It’s not hard to realize that Plant Study must be talking about flower meanings, not the names of actual flowers. Those nerdy days of reading Flower Witch comics might actually pay off for once.
“You go to a patch of ferns, then follow a trail of yellow poppies, then tulips,” you tell Faithful Fellow. “You’ve got that?”
He nods.
“Now be careful. I’m going to go spy on the Court. If you hear anything from over there, don’t be a hero; just go help Fabric, and the three of you go back to Blackmoor and get help. Got it?”
He nods again.
“Good luck.”
The two of you slip inside the garden, ears pricked. You see several paths lined with flowers; Faithful Fellow heads down the one lined with ferns. You, meanwhile, follow the one lined with peonies, keeping an eye out for holly bushes for domestic happiness and monkshood for “a deadly foe is near.” You still can’t get over how prophetic that turned out to be.
The garden would obviously be very beautiful in the daylight. Flowers in neat geometric patterns, bordered by trim hedges and evenly spaced trees, are everywhere in sight. Several of the plants are ones you’ve never seen before and many come with labels, like Plant Study meant for this to be some kind of living museum of botanical knowledge.
As much as Swordplay Study was full of it, you’re wondering if Star Study secretly hated her mom; this garden was clearly a labor of love for Plant Study and now it’s only seen by one gardener and once by each Study, all for tradition’s sake.
Of course, the whole thing can’t help but put you on edge as you stealthily creep through the bushes, seeing enemies behind every tree and rock. Somehow there are too many places for your enemies to hide and not enough places for you.
Before too long, you find the purplish flowers of monkshood, also known as wolfsbane. It leads you along the bottom of a cliff to a small, shallow valley rimmed with rosebushes. Dodging thorns, you cautiously peek over the edge.
The cliffside continues, and at the bottom of the valley is a cave, dramatically sealed with a stone filled with carvings of intelligent-looking sages. Surrounding the cave is ring after ring of cloaked ponies. A few hold torches, but despite that, you can barely tell where one ends and another begins, All you’re sure of is that there’s dozens and dozens of members, all of the Court of Ravens.
You feel dizzy and your breathing accelerates. From the sheer number of victims they’d created you’d known the Court had to be larger than just Hawkdive and Turtledove, but you’d had no idea there’d be so many. You didn’t even know there were this many ponies in Raven Hollow.
At the entrance to the cave, a small orange mare is convulsing on the ground, her eyes nearly rolling into her head, looking like she’s possessed by a demon. She can’t be more than eighteen. She’s screaming wildly, her cries occasionally interjected with random numbers.
Pacing around the fallen mare is an ivory unicorn with a pretty pine green mane lightly dusted with gray. Short as she is, she somehow looks imposing. You recognize her immediately; Turtledove, granddaughter of the founder of the Court of Ravens, and it’s current leader.
“It’s no use,” she sighed. “This one never was much for math. The loss of Stellar Physics is even more deeply felt.” She glared at a Court member in the front row.
“I did my best, I swear!” His back is to you and his hood is up, but you can tell by the voice it’s probably a middle-aged stallion. “I grabbed him, but he pushed my hoof away. Poor nutty guy literally jumped towards that monster’s claws…”
“Mmm-hmm,” Turtledove said, apparently not convinced. “Save your excuses for later. Meanwhile, the rest of you keep working on the puzzle. Or, if we’re lucky, that silly Swordplay will bring that detective right into our hooves.” She turned to look up the path to the cave, which is far too close to your hiding place for comfort. You’re sure she can hear your heartbeat from how loud it is in your ears.
When she turns away, you start counting ponies, circling slowly so you can make out their faces. Twelve, thirteen…
Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. Where is Hawkdive?
You scan the faces of the Court members as quick as you dare. The few that match the unicorn’s bulk are clearly either the wrong race or the wrong color. Your mind is racing. Where could he be? You have to find him. What if Faithful runs into him?
You turn and start up the path as fast as you dare. You make it to the holly path, still travelling behind bushes, when you hear somepony coming the other direction. You crouch to the ground, trying to make yourself look as much like a decorative rock as possible. You hear… sobbing. Then Faithful’s voice. “Please. Please. Do whatever you want with us, just please let us heal Fabby.”
“My sister will die if we don’t get to her within the hour,” Swordplay says. His voice sounds strained.
“Don’t care. It’s Turtledove’s judgement you have to worry about now,” Hawkdive says.
You let yourself peek slightly through the bushes. Hawkdive has Faithful Fellow and Swordplay on either side of him, both of them with magically formed leashes around their necks; you recognize the spell that Turtledove once applied to you. Swordplay’s horn is badly cracked and sparking. Both his scabbards are empty.
Great. Just when you could really use an ally with lots of fancy sword spells.
Hawkdive suddenly freezes and pricks his ears your direction. You don’t know what, if anything, he heard and you don’t stop to find out; you just leap out of your hiding place and start running.
You make it about five yards when you feel your throat constrict and your breathing is cut off by something yanking you backwards. You stumble to the ground, thrashing, feeling a third magical leash tighten around your own neck.
“Well, look who’s here,” Hawkdive sneers, jerking you to your hooves. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”
You attempt to come up with some biting retort, but you’re too scared. Plus, the leash is too tight for you to talk. Hawkdive somehow takes offense at your silence and electrifies the leash. You collapse to the ground, the pain so great you can’t even scream.
“L-leave them out of this!” Swordplay says.
“Oh no. This one of all ponies we can’t leave alone.” Hawkdive yanks the leash again. “On your hooves, rookie. We have one last riddle for you.”
You somehow force yourself upward and stumble after him. All the abuse you’ve endured today has finally caught up to you, and you close your eyes to shut out the tears. This is it. There’ll be no coded message from Idea Spark, no surprise rescue from Fabric this time.
“I’m sorry,” Swordplay whispers to you as you walk back the way you came. “When Hawkdive found me and my injured sister he offered to take me to the healing plants and it would have been suspicious if I’d refused. I tried to warn Faithful by being as loud as possible, but I overdid it, and Hawkdive caught on…”
You push him in the shoulder to try and get him to stop talking; you have no patience for excuses right now.
Hawkdive drags you into the ring of cloaked ponies, who jeer and hiss at you. He stops to ‘tie’ Faithful and Swordplay’s leashes to a tree, then drags you over to Turtledove. “Look what we found.”
The small unicorn glares at you in the way that you remember from your nightmares: an icy, piercing gaze that seems to penetrate your soul. Then her horn lights up.
You don’t remember anything definitive about the next few minutes; only pain, stars dancing before your eyes, and the sound of Turtledove screaming that you’re a murderer. When it’s over you can’t even find which way is up, you’re bleeding in several places, and you can barely stand.
“I have so much more I want to make you suffer,” Turtledove hisses. “But sadly, it seems we need you for one more riddle.”
In a meager act of defiance, you say, “And why would I h-help you? Will you let me leave if I answer this puzzle for you?” You’re not in much of a position to bargain but anything’s worth trying.
“Oh, no,” Turtledove says. “Neither you nor Swordplay is leaving alive; you both know too much.”
“M-me!?” Swordplay cries, sounding like he only just started paying attention. “Why me? I don’t know anything!”
“But if you solve this diligently, honestly, and within the hour, I agree to let the other two live,” Turtledove says, ignoring Swordplay. “Of course, if they don’t matter to you, we’ve brought some sirenite with us.” She nods to the writhing filly. “It would be satisfying to finish what we started with you.”
You don’t buy that; if that was a viable option, Turtledove wouldn’t even be bargaining with you. You close your eyes; Faithful and Fabric didn’t ask for this and hardly knew what they were getting into, despite all your attempts to warn them. It’s hardly fair that they should die.
And yet, if it helps the Court….
“What do you even need in that crypt so badly, anyway?” you say, opening your eyes. “If it’s just that you’re so sirenited that you can’t bear to leave while a riddle’s still unsolved, I’m not doing it.”
“Oh no. Our goal is what it always was. The final defeat of death; nothing less.” Turtledove nods to Swordplay Study. “And the rock your ancestor so selfishly and childishly sealed away will make that happen.”
“It’s not sirenite, is it?” you ask, dreading the answer.
“Fool. We have plenty of that.” Turtledove sighed and shook her head. “The stone was created by Mathematical Study’s brother, an alchemist named Philosopher Stone. When a strange monster with metal claws tore apart Philosopher’s lab and killed him, his silly younger brother kept the rock out of mere sentiment and sold anything valuable. After much searching, one of our members found Philosopher’s old notebook, where he wrote about how the stone could grant immortality if its surface was scratched with a metal instrument, and he was looking forward to testing it the next day. This was the last entry he ever wrote before the monster attacked.”
“That monster with metal claws… was that the Blackmoor Beast?” you ask.
“It matched the description except for one important detail; the monster that killed Philosopher Stone was green,” Turtledove answered.
You stare at the ground thoughtfully, pieces falling into place. “Philosopher Stone… didn’t happen to have a green coat, did he?”
Pause. “Yes… What are you saying?” Turtledove asked.
A wild cry echoes through the air. Speak of the devil.
“Oh Celestia,” a court member says.
“It’s him again!” another cries.
“Run!”
“No, stay here!” Turtledove shouted. “We are many, and between us-”
A few cloaked ponies were already leaving; the remaining ones shuffled around uneasily.
“You saw that beast tear Stellar apart, didn’t you?” one shouted.
“It was killed before and we can kill it again,” Turtledove said. “Stay calm and get ready-”
The strange, shrieking cry sounds again, much closer now, and the grey beast leaps down the cliff and lands in front of Mathematical Study’s grave. Its metal claws flash in the dim light as the grey, gooey monster lunges at the thrashing mare, who is too far gone to see the danger she’s in.
The Court member who’d let Stellar die dashes toward her, trying to drag her out of the way, and the sharp metal claws slice through his side like paper. The cloaked stallion collapses in a puddle of dark blood.
Any control Turtledove may have had over her Court members is instantly lost as they scramble to get out of the way, screaming in terror. You try to join them only to fall flat when you reach the end of the leash.
“Come back now!” Turtledove shouts to her followers, even as she retreats herself under the apparent pretense of chasing them down.
The wild cry sounds again, and you lift your head from the ground. You find yourself staring straight into the beast’s glowing yellow eyes. Death grips your heart with an icy hoof; in your panic, a desperate idea latches onto your mind.
“I-I know who you are!” you shout, your voice shaking. “You were a Study once. That rock mutated you into this beast when you came to fulfill the family tradition. That’s the kind of ‘immortality’ Philosopher’s stone granted!”
The beast snarls at you, strands of bloody drool dripping from its black void of a mouth. It raises its claws again.
“You have to remember who you are!” you shout at it. “Remember-!”
And as the metal blades descend on you, you call out the beast’s real name.