//------------------------------// // Chapter Four // Story: The Corvus Prince // by Daemon McRae //------------------------------// Chapter Four One bright day in the middle of the night... “Why tell us this?” Luna demanded. “Why make yourself known after using so many proxies? What makes this… attempt so special?” She flinched as another bird hit the same window. The second in as many minutes. Corvus regarded the Princess with a sense of what would be considered curiosity on anypony else. “You know, it’s rare that someone asks me the right questions right away. Usually it’s ‘why me’ or ‘what do you want’. I would think such questions would be easy to answer. It’s never about the individual. They are merely present, nothing more. It is their own will and actions that lead them to believe they are… predestined… for something. Perhaps they are. I wouldn’t know. That is not my function. Although, I digress. You have asked me questions, and in the spirit of… shall I say sportsmanship, I will answer them. As best as I know how, of course. I am far from omniscient.” He paced around the room thoughtfully, taking in the décor for a moment. Everypony stepped back from him, giving him room to walk as he made a full circuit. He talked as he walked, explaining, “I share this information with you, because there is no reason for me to withhold it. It grants neither of us an advantage, me to stay silent, or you to know what I know. I make myself known, not because I have chosen too, but because you have called for it. Not on purpose, of course,” he added, seeing the protest form on Luna’s lips, “But because you read the words. Most of my tools, or substitutes, are much easier to operate. The passage you deciphered and read, thwarting Discord’s valiant attempt to prevent such a happenstance, happens to be one of only a very small hooffull of ways to grant me personal access to this world.” “Which is precisely why I crossed it out so thoroughly,” Discord grumbled. “Why didn’t you just destroy it entirely?” Twilight barked, incensed. Another bird hit, then another, and Twilight gave the slowly cracking glass a panicked look. “Because I would not let him,” Corvus explained. He climbed onto the foot of the bed in which Celestia lay, spreading himself out lazily like the half-cat he was, and stared evenly at the group. There were a few protests and threat to his current position, which he pointedly ignored. “The book, like most of my tools, is completely within my control. It cannot be destroyed, or altered. Simply crossing out ink with ink would serve him no purpose, for as you have seen, the ink on those pages is little more than a plaything to me. I find the written word quite entertaining, in fact. However, you,” he now addressed Discord himself, “Were rather clever, crossing out my works with charcoal instead. Shame you couldn’t do so with the entire script.” The draconequus scoffed. “Well, it’s not exactly like I had all the time in the world to do so.” “No, I suppose not. Also, somepony might want to do something bout that window, before-” he was interrupted as one last bird hit the glass, breaking through until its neck had become lodged in the shattered pane. “That happens,” he finished. It struggled furiously for a second, then froze, as if in a photograph. Wings extended, beak still open mid-caw, it began to melt, until its black form had melted into so much ink, and seeped through to this side of the glass. Once the last drop hit, the ink rose from the puddle, reforming the bird. Then, there was a scuffling sound, as if many tiny feet were moving across the carpet. All present looked at the floor, with varying levels of terror and interest, as the black liquid, presumably ink, had started to gather on the floor, pooling at the talons of the feathered invader. It leaped like living webbing onto the talons, creeping up its body, until it had formed a large, bird-like shell around the creature. Then, details began to form. Still keeping the general shape and form of the crow, the beak instead became a small, snarling muzzle, the talons grew, thick and sharp, and the wings expanded like a series of blades, displayed proudly and with much malice. It flapped once, lifting into the air, and made a circle around the room, until it landed loyally on Corvus’s shoulder. Rarity looked unimpressed. “Are we supposed to be worried about your pet… thing?” Corvus tilted his head curiously. “No. But the rest of the flock can prove very troublesome.” Everything happened very quickly, almost at once. Dozens, if not hundreds, of the mutated, oversized birds met the windows, creating cracks and holes at random intervals. Some succeeded in breaking through entirely, some caught themselves in the glass, opting to dissolve and reform like their vanguard, and a few merely bounced off, only to circle around and try again. The room was rapidly filled with a flock of malicious black avians, tearing and biting at anything they could reach, even each other. Feathers and ink drops rained on the ponies as they fought. In the process of fending of the teeth and talons of the invaders, the Elements and Luna burst through the door, retreating into the hallway and running from the advancing flock. As they ran, they passed maids, butlers, and guards, all of whom soon found themselves under siege from the seemingly endless flock. Guards fought valiantly, only to be beset by another two birds for each one they felled. The rest simply ran, hiding themselves in closets and pantries, locking themselves away in all kinds of rooms. Some hid away in bedrooms and parlors, only to reemerge, being pursued by another branch of the swarm that had found more windows to break through. Soon their were almost as many ponies running from the birds as there were birds to run from. Luna had taken the lead, vying to lead them somewhere productive, instead of in circles, like many of the ponies present seemed want to do. “WITH ME, MY SUBJECTS!” she bellowed, garnering the appreciative attention of the stampede, as they descended a series of staircases. Eventually, they found themselves in a peculiar dungeon, with a grand vault door as its only point of egress. Once the past pony had made their way in, Luna shielded the doorway, pushing back the enraged flock, until she could safely close the door. Applejack spoke first. “Anypony injured? Y’all need help?” The general consensus was, besides a few scratches and a collective lack of breath, the group was ok. “Good, good. Now maybe we can think of a way outta this mess.” “That should prove interesting,” rang Corvus’s voice. The crowd looked about them in a panic, then shied away from each other as the noticed that the droplets of ink and feathers that had collected on their fur from the mad flock had started to melt away, coalescing in the middle of the room. From the puddle, Corvus arose, nonplussed. “A panic room?” he asked curiously. He looked about him with a general sense of mild interest. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”