Ten paces, turn around, ten paces, turn around. That was all it took to go from one end of the inn to the other and back again. Facet was becoming very familiar with that.
She was on the verge of hyperventilating and her limbs were shaking. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong here. She could feel it in her bones. It was claiming everybody, one by one. It was only a matter of time before it got her. But if she left, she’d freeze to death in minutes.
Ten paces, turn around, ten paces, turn around…
Okay, she told herself, think. Maybe you can find a way out of this.
So, this place: what did she know? Dinky inn, middle of nowhere, punny name. Apparently, Clarity had worked here her whole life, but that was a lie. She was a crystal pony, and they-
Clarity was a crystal pony.
Clarity was a crystal pony, and crystal ponies could influence other ponies’ emotions.
Okay, that, that explained a lot. At least everybody wasn’t going crazy Just Because; somepony was getting into their head, pushing their buttons in just the right way to make them go crazy.
Maybe.
…And yet, the possibility that someone was fucking with her head didn’t cheer Facet up in the slightest.
Ten paces, turn around, ten paces, turn around…
One way or another, Facet kept thinking. Apparently, there’d been another group here before them. When? Who were they? Mistral had said something about it, but not how she’d found out. There was something in there. Something Mistral hadn’t mentioned, probably because it just hadn’t seemed important. Facet kept pacing. But she couldn’t come up with any more information. She’d only arrived here a few hours ago, hardly enough time to learn anything.
A few hours? It felt like weeks.
Think… Think… Think…
Some quiet scraping interrupted her thoughts. She looked up; Cassandra was pawing through the remains of the door, apparently looking for something. A board, maybe. Facet wasn’t sure she wanted to know what for, but… “What’re you doing?”
“Griselda’s crazy,” Cassandra said without looking up, “and if she’s the one that wins, I want a weapon. Like…” She pulled a particularly thick plank from the debris. “This.” Awkwardly clamping it between her hooves, she swung it a few times and nodded. “Yeah. This’ll do just fine.”
“She’s crazy? You’re crazy!” yelled Facet. “If you’re standing there, ready to smack her upside the head with a board, what do you think will happen? She’ll-”
“It’s better than nothing,” said Cassandra. She didn’t sound like she was convincing herself.
“Not really, no! You-”
“D-don’t listen to her,” Clarity spoke up. “You don’t want Griselda to k-kill you, do you? Defense against h-her is the right way to go.”
Facet almost ignored her, but then she realized what Clarity was doing. She needed to stop this. She ran up to Cassandra and whispered, “Listen, whatever you do, if Mistral comes out of there, don’t hurt her.”
“And I won’t,” Cassandra whispered back. “Mistral’s the sane one.”
“What- No, listen, I know you know that, I’m talking about Clarity. She’s a crystal pony, and she-”
The distinct sound of foot on stone echoed from out of the stairwell. Before she could think, Facet had scurried halfway across the room. One way or another, she didn’t want to be anywhere near that door. Cassandra shot her a dirty look and stepped to one side, awkwardly raising her board over her head with her front legs.
Clump. Clump. Clump…
Facet breathed a sigh of relief when Mistral stepped into the light. She dirty, limping, and bleeding, but she was alive. She looked dazed and blinked blearily around the room. “Hey,” she said to nopony in particular. She rubbed her head.
“Uh, hey,” said Facet. What was she supposed to say?
Cassandra dropped back onto all fours, releasing the board. “Hey. Good thing you’re alive.”
“It doesn’t feel like it,” Mistral said listlessly. She glanced at the board, then at Cassandra. “What was with the board? Why’d you look like you wanted to brain me with it?”
Cassandra blinked and looked down, at the board between her front hooves. “Oh, just, you know,” she said slowly, “looking for defense against crazy people.”
“Don’t bother,” Mistral said dully. “Griselda’s dead.”
“Ah. Okay. Ooookay.” Cassandra nodded.
Mistral moaned and ruffled her mane. “Now, look,” she said quietly, “I think I might know what’s going on. Kind of.” She looked at Clarity. “See, there was this packa-”
Cassandra lunged, scooping up the board and using it to pin Mistral to the wall by her throat. Mistral thrashed, striking out with her legs, trying to dislodge Cassandra, but between the latter’s leverage and earth pony strength, she had no chance.
“Yeah,” whispered Cassandra, grinning, “who said Griselda was the crazy one?”
Facet screamed; Mistral was her only hope at figuring out what was going on here. She jumped on Cassandra and pulled; she tried to weaken her footing, push her away, give Mistral some wiggle room, do something to get Mistral out. But Facet was weak, even for a crystal pony, and Cassandra was strong. She just shrugged Facet’s attempts off without even looking at her.
“You…” said Cassandra to Mistral, “you just go and kill someone you’d supposedly been friends with, and you expect me to trust you?” She giggled. “Yeah, no.”
Mistral kept trying to push the board away from her throat. Her eyes grew bloodshot. She flailed weakly at Cassandra. Her mouth was open in her fruitless struggle to breathe. Her good wing beat fitfully against the wall.
And all Facet could do was watch.
Finally, Mistral’s struggling slowed to a stop. Cassandra released her; the body slumped to the floor. “Serves you right,” Cassandra mumbled. She dropped to her rump alongside the body and stared at it, breathing deeply. Facet didn’t do anything, couldn’t do anything thanks to shock.
The only sound was the howling of the wind outside.
After what felt like an eternity, Facet found her voice. “What did you do?!” she screamed.
“Well, she- I-” Cassandra blinked and looked at Mistral’s body. She blinked twice and her eyes widened slightly, as if realization was suddenly growing on her. “I… I don’t…” Her voice was shaky. Her breathing was loud but shallow. “O-oh, Celestia, w-why?” Her legs gave out beneath her and she shuffled away from Mistral, blinking rapidly. “It’s… I didn’t…” She buried her head in her hooves, smothering the sound of quick, sobbing gasps.
Facet’s legs twitched; she was at a complete loss. Cassandra had just killed the one pony who had her head about her… but she’d been psychically pushed into doing so. Was she still dangerous? Was her regret genuine? How much of the killing had been Clarity’s fault and how much had been Cassandra’s? Crystal pony magic didn’t work without something to latch onto, which meant-
“Do you think we can trust her?”
Facet twitched; Clarity was right behind her, looking scared the way a bad actor looked scared. Don’t listen to her, Facet told herself. She started marshalling her thoughts, hoping to get a word in edgewise before-
“S-she’s just as crazy as the others,” whispered Clarity. “A-a complete nutjob. You don’t want to be a v-victim of her, do you?”
Facet blinked twice and rage began to well up inside her. What’d she been thinking, feeling sorry for Cassandra? Clarity was right.
No, wait, she’s-
Cassandra was a liar. She was faking it. She’d always been faking it.
Stop! Think! You’re listening to-
She spotted a small knife strapped to one of Mistral’s forelegs. A… dirk, maybe? Whatever it was called, it ought to work. Clarity was still sobbing; she wouldn’t notice a thing. Facet crept up to Mistral’s body, took off the dirk, and belted it to her own leg. It felt good.
And before she knew it, she was on top of Cassandra, stabbing the liar in her trunk again and again and again. Cassandra hadn’t seen it coming, didn’t even have time to scream before the blade pierced her. Facet knew she must’ve hit an artery; blood was gushing out in torrents, drenching the floor and soaking her fur. She kept at it. The liar needed to die.
She didn’t how much time she spent, driving the dirk into Cassandra’s body. The seconds all seemed to blur together. But eventually, from the amount of blood and the lack of movement, Facet figured Cassandra was dead, or close enough. She settled back onto the wet floor, grinning. She’d just killed a dangerous pony.
She blinked. She’d just killed a pony.
She’d just killed a pony.
Immediately, Facet felt sick. She’d known it was coming. She’d known Clarity was screwing with her head. And yet, she’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. She’d done it just as easily as breathing.
Now, she and Clarity were the only ones left.
Clarity sidled over and poked Cassandra’s body. She nodded. “Good!” she chirped. “That’s that.” She smiled at Facet. It was supposed to be sweet, but it looked more like a smirk. “D-don’t worry. Now that we’re safe, I’ll take care of you as long as you s-stay here.”
“Great,” said Facet dully.
Clarity nodded again and turned back for the bar. Facet watched her go, feeling burned out. Part of her wanted to just kill Clarity and be done with the whole damn affair. But if she did that, she’d never know what was going on here. Facet felt like, as the last mare standing and having gone through all that shit, she had a right to know. She knew it was silly. That didn’t stop her from wanting to know, wanting to question Clarity.
The main problem: how to question Clarity in the first place? She looked nice and strong; it’d be hard to hold her down without having a place where her hooves could hit her and knock her down. Facet needed a “dead zone” where Clarity couldn’t touch her. Somehow.
The vague impression of an idea, one that would give her that dead zone and let her question Clarity easily, attempted to make its presence known in Facet’s brain. Trying to jog her mind, she looked at Clarity’s back as she headed back for the bar. She looked at her still bloody knife. Her ears stood up as the idea crystallized.
Facet knew a thing or two about biology. The origin of the term “hamstrung”, for instance. She lunged out, slashing at the back of Clarity’s leg, hoping to hit a muscle.
Whatever else could be said about the blade, it was well-kept. It sliced through Clarity’s leg with minimal resistance, neatly severing the muscle. Blood gushed; Clarity screeched and fell to the floor, her leg crippled. Facet quickly jumped on top of her, flipped her onto her back, and pinned her to the floor with a hoof. The lack of movement from Clarity’s bad leg gave her plenty of space on that side. She pointed the dirk at Clarity’s neck. “Alright, listen,” she said. Her voice was full of all the tension that’d slowly been wound up in her over the past few hours. “I’ve got questions. You’re gonna answer them. And if I think you’re messing with my head, you’re dead. Got it?”
All composure had left Clarity; she didn’t even try to push Facet off. She lay there, a few licks short of blubbering. “It’s-” she whimpered. “I-I-” She moaned and clamped her eyes shut, as if in pain.
“Answer me!” yelled Facet. She pushed the blade’s edge against Clarity’s throat, coming dangerously close to breaking the skin.
Clarity’s eyes snapped open, her pupils shrunk to nothingness, her entire body shaking from head to hoof. “P-please,” she said, almost sobbed, “r-run. S-save y-yourself. I-it’s n-not t-too l-late.”
And immediately Facet hesitated. Clarity was responsible for this, she knew that. But this was something different. If Clarity had suddenly decided to be forthcoming- “Too late?” she asked quickly. “Too late for what?”
“H-he’s c-coming b-back,” whispered Clarity, “g-gathering m-magic t-to-” She clutched her head and screamed, spasming on the floor. Facet immediately backed away to avoid her hooves. What else was there to do? At this point, Facet felt like she was just along for the ride; all the could do was watch as Clarity twisted and writhed.
Eventually, Clarity stopped striking at the air and calmed down, her breathing slipping back into a normal rhythm. When she opened her eyes again, her sclerae had taken a sickly greenish tinge. “Apologies,” she said as she stood up. “But when stressed, it can be quite hard to keep control of myself.” She laughed. “But I’m better now. Well, except for…” She wiggled her rump, letting her bad leg flop out. “But that’s easily fixable.”
“Easily… fixable?” Facet said slowly. This was making less and less sense by the moment. And what was up with her sudden plea to leave? Where’d her stammer gone? What was wrong with her eyes?
“Yes. That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” Clarity rolled her eyes. “It’s not exactly a hard concept to grasp.”
Facet swallowed. Okay, Clarity hadn’t attacked her and couldn’t get to her, not with that broken leg. Maybe, Facet thought, she could get some answers. “Fine. It’s easily fixable. But…” She lifted her hoof and pointed the dirk at Clarity. The point was wavering a lot. “Why? Why are you doing this? Making ponies kill each other? What do you get?” Facet doubted she’d get a response from such a direct question, but she could at least try.
“Oh, you know.” Clarity waved a hoof nonchalantly. “Fear, strife, disharmony… Dark magic thrives on it, and I need all the help I can get.”
“What… what are you talking about?” asked Facet. But a cold weight had begun to settle in her stomach. She knew what Clarity was talking about.
“Why don’t I show you?” Clarity asked, almost sweetly. She began limping towards the fireplace. “You’ll be well acquainted with it, sooner or later.”
Then, still smiling, she jumped into the blaze.
The fire seized on her fur like a thousand wicks and doubled in size almost immediately. Heat pulsed through the room, so intense Facet took several steps back and had to shield her face. As the fire kept growing, so too did the light in the room. The fire shone like a second sun and threw sharp shadows against the walls; Facet couldn’t bear to look at it.
Then everything went dark.
Cautiously, Facet looked at the fireplace. It was still burning, and yet somehow muted. Thick black smoke was swirling from Clarity’s unmoving, charred body, blocking most of the light. It felt inky, oily, unclean. It clung to itself, refusing to disperse throughout the room, and it moved far too slowly for smoke. From the way it slowly, irregularly swirled, it almost felt alive.
Before Facet could react, the smoke moved and engulfed her, and her world turned cold and dark, inside-out. Her entire body went limp as something began assaulting her mind, as if it were adrift in an endless sea, being thrown to and fro by the currents and riptides, constantly under threat of being pulled under. She could feel it ripping away at her motivations, flaking off bits and pieces of her memories.
Facet fought, kept her head above the surface. She tried to hold onto herself. She tried to cling to what made her her. But as her will was smothered, no matter how tightly she held on, no matter how much she tried to stay afloat, the waves swamped her. It was only a matter of time before she went under completely.
Still she fought.
Finally, it was too much. The will engulfing her was vast and tireless, and her last reserves had been drained. She submerged-
-and wondered what she was so worried about. No, she didn’t really have anything to be concerned about, nothing that mattered. What did matter was the inn and the thing in the basement. Why wasn’t she taking care of them?
No! some distant corner of her mind screamed. This isn’t me! I’m a historian! I was up here to study small towns! I was going to-
I, I was going to…
Where was she going to?
Facet thought for a moment, but then decided it didn’t matter. She needed to take care of the inn. That was all that mattered.
Think! the corner screamed. It sounded quieter. Remember who you are! Fight it!
Why fight it? Giving in was so much easier.
You’re not his, you’re yours!
Yes, but being his was less painful.
This is not you!
So what if it wasn’t her? She was a useless pony anyway. Now, she had a purpose.
The corner didn’t respond.
Of course it didn’t. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that this was her inn. Facet let the current pull away her memories, her motivations, hurling them into oblivion bit by bit. They didn’t matter. They were just taking up valuable space. Finally, when it was all said and done, she was left with two facts.
She was Facet.
She took care of the inn.
Those two facts were all that mattered.
And since she took care of the inn, she needed to do some cleaning up in here. Wow the group was messy. There were bodies to dispose of, blood to clean up, a door to fix… It was quite a lot for one pony to handle. But Facet could handle it. She took care of the inn, after all. She knew that keeping it clean and tidy was her first responsibility.
Well, actually, no, not quite. Before she did anything else, she needed to check up on the furnace. That was the whole reason the inn was here, after all. That pegasus and griffon (what were their names? Oh, well, that didn’t matter) might’ve broken something down there. That wouldn’t do at all.
Facet moved stiffly to the cellar. Her body felt strange, like it wasn’t hers. She stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping and falling. But that didn’t matter. The furnace did.
When she got downstairs and peered into the gloom, although she’d never seen anything before, she knew everything was alright down here. None of the crates were disturbed, the griffon’s body was out in the open for easy access, and the furnace…
The furnace…
The fire produced enough light for Facet to examine it. Nothing had been touched, as far as she could tell. The furnace was safe. Then she looked up at the thing built into the furnace, the thing it sustained, the thing that bound him to life, the thing she was responsible for: a unicorn’s sanguine horn, long and thin, severed at the base, curving to a sharp point. It was safe.
Facet smiled. Everything was alright.