//------------------------------// // Chapter 9: Complexity // Story: Once More, with Feeling // by Amaranthine Thought //------------------------------//             Blueblood fidgeted in the library, the lights off and nopony around at that hour.  It was silent, slightly dusty, and he had never personally gone to the library, which also gave it a kind of…             Exotic thrill.             But the waiting was the worst.  Being able to see a clock only firmed the sensation of the seconds slowing down more and more as three o clock neared.  He was nervous and eager and excited, and the clock was so slow!             He shook himself, trying to stay calm.  It was so hard though…             Then he heard it.  The gentle, soft sounds of somepony stepping softly.  Normally inaudible, but with Blueblood’s nervousness combined with the library’s absolute silence, they were almost uncomfortably loud.             He turned, and saw her.  Rest, standing tall, stepping with such care and grace, looking for him until she spotted him.             He melted a bit at her faint smile as she went to him.             “Princess.” he murmured, choking a little on his words.  Careful, he reminded himself.  Strong as she was, she was flighty, shy, delicate.  Don’t frighten her with swift romance; allow her to decide how fast or slow this would happen.             “Did anypony see you?” she whispered to him.  He shook his head and she nodded, just a little.  “Good.  I need to know more.”             “Anything…”             “…Try for the most important.  Anything that might concern me, or the princesses.”             Blueblood nodded.             “Out of all I know, all of the nobility wishes to benefit from you, Princess, be that willingly, indirectly, or in a more malicious manner.  As a fourth, unknown, Princess, you represent an unprecedented possibility for change in the system.  I would say that maybe half are wholly passive, only willing to imply or suggest their desires; the rest are more than willing to take active action.”             “And who should I be friends with, and who should I watch out for?” she asked, and Blueblood shivered.             Such perception; like she already knew everything.  Such wisdom, and now, trust:             He could, quite easily, tell her exactly what he wanted her to know, and take advantage of her.  And she would, almost certainly, never find out until it was far, far too late.             But not anymore.  Blueblood didn’t wish for a vapid, shallow relationship anymore.             He had never tried anything like it before, but he had lots of experience the other way around.  Love would never be gained in a relationship with lies, manipulations, or mistruths.  He should know.             Truth, solid truth.  His very best hoof forward.  Taking it her way, letting her lead, always.  Never threatening her power, never forcing her into anything.  And maybe…             Maybe one day he would truly have earned her.  A true love, a love that he had, and still did, considered silly, or even impossible.             But he wanted it.             “As I said, Gold Coin is the worst.” he whispered, smiling broadly, his eyes sparkling.  The interest in her own, the way she leaned a little forward to hear him…             Such thrills.             “I am afraid that he is my rival, and as such, he takes great care to insure I know little.  But I know that he hides much; what it is has so far evaded me, however.”             Rest nodded.             “Fluer De Lis might prove dangerous as well.  She is cunning and heartless at times, and this time might easily be another; she uses Fancy Pants the same as you or I might use a puppet to hide behind.  And in so doing, her own actions go unnoticed underneath his striking figure.”             “…What are they trying to gain?”             He shivered a little at her whisper, imagining her breath in his ear.  “It depends.  In Gold Coin’s case, I can only imagine, but Flue De Lis would use you as a ladder to bring herself and her husband ever higher.  Others practice the same, but she is a true master at the art.”             “Candid and his own group,”             “Group?”             “Not well known, my Princess.” Blueblood said, only to flinch a little.  ‘My Princess’ had slipped out.  But Rest gave no indication of anything wrong, and his heart near exploded from the hope and joy.             Such a simple way of nearly screaming ‘I trust you, at least a little’.  No action used so well to indicate something so very, very precious.             He recovered.  She wanted to know, and he would acquiesce.             “Candid uses scandal and blackmail to control others.  His ‘group’ are those ponies who, for some reason or another, support his endeavors; mostly to avoid being caught by his cameras.”             “…And if there is nothing to see?” Rest asked.             “There is always something.  It does not take much to take a picture that can convince others of a pony’s… irreputable nature.”             “How?”             Blueblood shivered again.  Rest was just so… so wise and powerful, and yet so naive and innocent.  He wanted to protect that.             “…Let us just say that he excels in gathering… sensitive photos.” he whispered.             Rest hesitated, and nodded.  He could tell she didn’t understand, but could also tell that he had dissuaded her from wanting to know more.             He had successfully defended her innocence.  He cheered internally, though he did feel a bit upset, having to manipulate her, even in a protective way.             “You should beware of that, Princess.  Tabloids and others need little more than somepony’s word to publish something untrue.”             “I will.  Is that all?”             “No.  There are many sects within the nobility, but two are very important.”             “You mean the High and Pure castes?” she asked, thoughtful.             “Yes and no.  High and Pure are important, but they are the public persona; the two I refer to are the Luminous and the Heavens.”             Rest blinked, slightly confused, but curious.  Blueblood lowered his voice, and felt another thrill as she leaned closer to hear him.             “The nobility have many ‘secret clubs’, of which, the Luminous and the Heavens are the greatest.”             “…Some kind of nightclubs then?”             “…Of a sort.  Not ones advertised, and well hidden; I doubt even Princess Celestia or Luna know of them.”             “Why not?”             “…Almost all of them practice… certain… degenerative acts.” Blueblood said, and Rest frowned a bit.  “Nothing anypony wishes to be known, but find the means and ways to acquire for themselves.  Privately.”             “…” Rest huffed faintly, obvious mildly distressed.  Blueblood gave a sigh of relief at that; he wouldn’t have to explain fur,             “Like what?” she asked, and he froze.  He gaped, staring at her faint glare, trying to think of something.  He felt suddenly trapped, and pressed against something… ugly.             …             He made a choice.             “I know from rumor alone.” he whispered rather swiftly.  “But they are not good rumors, and I would sooner not sully my lips nor your ears with their retelling.”             “…Can you put a stop to this?” she asked, less a question and more a statement.             Blueblood’s heart almost stopped.  This was bad.  Really bad.             On one hoof; he could, easily, do what she wanted.  It wouldn’t take much at all.             Mostly because he was the founder of the Heavens, and an active member of Luminosity and participated in everything on a fairly regular basis.  Heck, he instituted some of it, he had something named after him (not actually him, but rather, the alternative name everypony used, so as not to reveal who they actually were).  It was his money that funded the ‘Night Cloud’!  He organized events!             He found himself caught between his desires and his new found love.  Long habits, old pleasures, or a new, exciting, wonderful experience that he wasn't really sure would lead to?             …             He made another choice, rationalizing it.  Sort of.             He already hid his participation and knowledge.  Hiding a little more was nothing.  Rest already had no idea what or even where the clubs were, and only knew of their existence.  And what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.             Yes, it was a lie.  But it was a lie that would never come up.  A lie that would never, ever be found out.             Or so he told himself as he nodded and said, “I shall try, Princess.”             Rest nodded, and smiled at him, both giving him joy, and a faint, though sharp, pain.  “Good.  And I should worry about them, because…?”             “Well… to you, they represent alliances of nobility who would work together.  They are powerful forces, and ones that do not work where others can see them.”             “But I promise you, Princess.  I will never allow any such under hooved behavior to come close to you.”             Rest blinked, a touch surprised.  “…You would?”             He swelled up.  That was promise that he could, would, and wanted to, make.             “I swear on my name, my father’s name, and his father’s name: I will defend your honor to my very last breath Princess Rest.  Never will I allow anything to ever sully you, be that in word, deed, or anything else.”             Rest gave him a real smile.  A grateful grin and he soared high.  It was perfect.             One tiny little lie wouldn’t hurt anypony.  And he could give it up.  Eventually.  Maybe.  Give it some time, work out all the benefits… Something to think about later.  Much later.             “Thank you Blueblood.” she whispered to him, her voice heavy with real gratitude.             He grinned, unable to prevent himself, his entire body perking up and his tail flicking form side to side.  “I will always be there should you require me Princess.”             “I’ll be sure to remember that.” she said, standing back up and shaking herself faintly.  She took a glance at the nearest clock and nodded.             “…I’ll retire for the night.” she said, and Blueblood spent a moment in deep conflict before coughing faintly, drawing her attention.             She looked back, and asked, ”Yes?”             “…If I may… your hoof?” he asked, reaching his own out.             Rest smiled a little smile, and reached out.  He reached out as well, focusing extremely hard.             He gripper her hoof, and then darted forward to gently kiss it, releasing it at the same moment, not taking more than a few instants to complete the action.             For a second, he feared as she started slightly, eyes widening and blushing.             But she didn’t run.  Surprised, almost shocked, off-balance and unsure, but not running.  His fear turned on itself and he exalted as she stuttered, “G, go, good ni, night.” and left.             He had taken a little chance, and in so doing, really proven that he really was getting someplace!  His delicate Princess had not recoiled from him!             He nearly skipped back to his own home.  He felt…             He didn’t really know.  But it was good, and wonderful.  If only that pesky little voice would shut up about his little omission.  It would never be important.             Silent.  Dark.  A single rabbit still moving in the late hour, the animals of Canterlot having a slightly skewed normal lifestyle.             Soft.  Alert, but not as much as would its wild brethren be.  Its fears were not a normal rabbit’s fears.  It feared ponies, not for any real reason, save that ponies were the sole thing that it came across fairly often.  Not a fear based in fact, but a fear more born from a kind of knowledge that it was the ponies who were the true power over its life.             Ponies made the gardens where it lived.  Ponies drove away predators and set its food, and water.             And at any time, they could take it all away.             An ear jumped up.  What was that?             A rustle.  Like the wind moving, but…             Huge eyes scanned the area.  A tiny heart beat faster.  There!             Again!  From the other side!             It jumped and stared at the bushes nearby, only to jump again, starting to grow panicked.             Again, it came from behind it.  And again.  And again, until the rabbit felt that no way was safe.  Muscles tensed, a tiny heart thrummed in a tiny chest, fear both trapping it and giving it the ability to dart at the very first indication of danger.             Then a sudden light and sound made it leap, high and fast…             Right into the snapping jaws of Night.             It wasn't able to make a single sound as she bit it, instantly snapping the tiny thing’s spine.  A grimace passed over her and she sucked.             The blood of the creature came, slowly and disgustingly.  Not warm and liquid, but cold and thick.  Like blood left to clot, not quite there.  The difference between fresh and expired milk; one smooth and liquid, and the other disgusting and lumpy.             She tossed her head back and forth, trying to endure it before she finally threw it up, spitting the rabbit and its blood from her mouth and retching.             She, once again, regretted her overeager coming to Canterlot.  A trip of days, from a tiny place where ponies were stupid, to Canterlot, the capital.  So many ponies; too many ponies.  Too many lights, too many ways that everypony always knew what everypony else was doing.             Night knew her limits well.  She had lived long enough to know them very well.             She wasn't doing well.  She hadn’t been able to… ‘eat’ for the three days she had been in Canterlot, and excepting the extra meal she had nabbed before taking her trip, that meant she hadn’t eaten at all for about a week.             Sanguinerians could go for a surprising time without eating, but she was already testing those limits again.  For weak ones, a week was enough to starve.  For her, that was more like a month.  Which included a lot of pain and weakness as she slowly starved.             Given that was the third rabbit she had thrown up, not including the raccoon, animals were just… not viable.  And the stupid binding kept her from harming ponies, not that she even could without having to get a whole bunch at once, which would inevitably expose her…             She was in big, big trouble.  She was already weaker; slower, possibly even unable to take out an experienced guard.  Flying would be dangerous, trying to escape the city would be difficult, arduous, and since Rest had the ability to force her to return without warning, useless.             She hesitated, and felt it.  The binding on her tightened, and without her command, she took to the air.  And as she went, she let the spell drag her onward, and thought.             She had to get blood, and soon.  If she kept starving as she did, she would eventually need somepony to practically feed themselves to her, and that wasn't going to happen.             She had to get Rest to let her have some.  Just a bit, nothing too much.  She had the energy yet to fly off to Ponyville or someplace and drop on some unsuspecting pony and recover.  It would only take one.  They wouldn’t die, she could make sure they didn’t even recall the experience.  Like a big bug bite, nothing worse.             And if Rest said no, surely she could see her way clear to somehow finding a loophole in the ‘not hurting ponies’.  She had strength and cunning yet.  Not like she had to regenerate or anything.             She spotted herself heading toward Luna’s window, and blinked.  Then she panicked, and struggled against the spell.             And in so doing, crashed rather than landed, and was dragged along the floor to Rest’s hooves.  Over broken glass, which was present for some reason.             Rest gasped in shock, and Night lamented everything.  She was already healing, and had suffered worse, but that was yet more vitality used up.             “Are you alright?” Rest asked, having an actual note of worry in her tone as Night stood, and noted that the dreaded Luna was not present as she dusted/pulled glass out of her side.             She pondered that, and pushed back her first response.             “I’ve been better.” she told Rest.  “You called?”             “…Blood.” Rest murmured, staring at her.  Night glanced at her side and shrugged.             “I told you I bleed.”             “On your mouth… what is it?”             A command, not that it mattered.             “Rabbit.” Night said, wiping at her mouth.  “Disgusting too; I couldn’t swallow anything.”             Rest looked off put at that, and more than a little uncaring.  Not a good start.             “…It really is harm,”             “Stop.”             Night felt the spell silence her, and felt a mix of annoyance and mild worry.             Rest huffed, and regathered herself.  “I need you to tell me about any major undead threat I could face.”             “Sanguinerians at large.” Night said, but somehow managed to shift the words into something different than what she would have said.  “Very few if any would be willing to peacefully greet you.  They either want you dead or controlled, and that can happen in at least ten ways or more.  Beyond those are the Decayed,”             “The what?”             “The Decayed.  A group for intelligent, higher undead, such as wrights or ghouls.  They keep their unlife close, and hate the idea of a new reaper.  They want you dead.”             “Ghosts are a mixed bag, but I know a few that could prove difficult for you.  None of them would be active threats though; you would have to find them.  Beyond that, the worst kind of ghost is a banshee.”             “Aren’t wrights ghosts?”             “Not really.  Most would take that as an insult too.  Wrights are more physical and powerful than any ghost, though banshees are a little more… dangerous given circumstance.”             “Banshees can scream, which can and will kill any life that hears it too well.  Lesser effects include blind terror and sometimes unconsciousness.  A banshee can scream about once an hour, but given the potency, they generally don’t need to, and you will not know a banshee from a normal ghost until they scream.  As far as I know, there is no way to resist it or prevent one from screaming.”             Rest hummed and nodded.             “Another variation are possessors and the vital.”             “I know possession.  What’s a vital?”             “A vital is a ghost with a really strong physical presence.  Capable of resisting normal effects that would otherwise work on them, and even capable of harming anything that could try.”             Rest blinked, and seemed to recall something.             “And then some ghosts can whisper.”             Rest shook herself slightly.  “Can’t everypony?”             “Not like they can.  Whisperers are more… psychological attackers, breaking down confidence and willingness to capture them.  They are very good at it, and can easily manipulate things to their ends.”             Rest nodded as Night felt the compulsion leave her once more.  She had noted that she could, given she still obeyed, give her own flair and tilt to the words.  Saving herself and her secrets a few times form Rest’s general question.  She had some control, just not a lot.             She might be able to use that.             Rest fell silent, and Night mustered herself.  She had to get a chance soon.             She shifted, took on a more submissive stance.  Regretful, concerned, but also having a note of request.  ‘Please, I have to but I hate it’, and not ‘I want to never do so again’.  Her eyes enlarged slightly, and she softened her expression.  Slightly lowered, wings spread along her back.             “…Rest?” she whispered, breaking Rest form her thought.  Rest saw her and hesitated.             “Might I ask something?” she asked, the picture of humble and sad.             “…What is it?” Rest asked, and Night kept any indication of her grin form her face.  That was not suspicion.  That was worry.             “…I did try.” she murmured softer, casting her eyes down.  Upset.  Not regretful, upset.             She nearly heard Rest’s hesitation.             “…I didn’t want to be like this.” Night continued, lowering her voice farther.  A note of sadness creeping into her tone.  “I can’t eat normal food anymore.  I… I need to… drink.”             “…And animals won’t…?”             Night shook her head, managing to force out a tear.  She wondered how long it had been since she cried, actually cried, as she kept going.             “I can’t… they taste too… bad.” she said.  “And I really did try…”             She looked up again, and saw Rest unsure.             “…It isn’t worse than a bug bite.  I can be really quiet and quick.  I hate it just as much as you do, really, but… I have to.  It’s part of who I am…”             “…I…”             “I don’t want to die.” she whimpered at the last, crying, looking away.             A long hesitation behind her as she sniffled, staring at the bloody shards of glass on the floor.             “…Maybe I can cure you?”             She shook her head.  “Nopony can.”             “…Maybe it’s just rabbits that taste horrible.”             Ancestors, Rest was stubborn.  Other ponies gave way long before this point.  Night was already straining to keep the act up.             “All animals are the same like that.”             “…I could…flavor the blood?”             Night hesitated at that one, and heard Rest mutter something.  She bit her tongue, to keep silent.  Her patience was almost out.             “…Alright.” Rest said, sounding as if she was doubting herself.             “…Yes?” Night asked, still not looking, hope blossoming.             “I might be able to simply infuse you with something, no blood needed.  Like a healing spell, but more directed.”             Night snapped.             She whirred on Rest without really thinking, and yelled, “Just let me bite somepony already!”             Rest jumped a little, staring, and Night glared before recalling.             “…I mean, that might work.” she said, looking away slightly, aggression gone, replaced by a growing dread as Rest recovered, shifting from shock to anger.             “You…You…”             Night lowered herself slowly as Rest seemed to loom over her, glaring.  She swallowed, gave her hopes to the idea that Rest might not have it in her to kill her, and tensed.             “You horrible pony!” Rest yelled at last, spitting the words like it was some kind of epitaph.             Night, despite her mind saying it was a bad idea, smiled a little and chuckled at the thought of Rest being so… delicate.  Even Celestia had said far worse than that.             Rest yelled in response, stomping, cracking the stone faintly and reminding Night that she was upsetting an already upset alicorn.  She winced, and tried to calm her with, “I’m sorry!”             “No you’re not!”             “Yes I am!  Please don’t kill me!”             “You tried to manipulate me!”             “Because,”             “Rest!  What is…”             Night and Rest looked over, and both hesitated upon seeing a stunned Luna.  The pair were mostly unable to act, and Luna’s eye took in the scene.             Broken window, with bloody shards of glass.  Rest, upset, angry, worn.  Something about manipulation.             And then the bat pony frozen just in front of her.             Night shot from the floor faster than could be seen, and even then, Luna very nearly hit her with the first blast, roaring like some kind of dragon, shaking the whole of the castle and chasing after Night.             Rest blinked, stunned, only to flinch as another roar came, along with what she was fairly sure was Night screaming something.             Celestia simply appeared in the room, eyes wide, and glanced at Rest, saw the room and situation, and simply asked, “Where is my sister?”             Rest only pointed outside, where Luna screamed in frustration and the sound of something being destroyed came from.  Celestia nodded, and flew out, leaving Rest to herself.             “UNHOLY ABOMINATION!  CEASE THESE GAMES AND REVEAL THEYSELF, SO WE MAY END THEE!”             Night stayed silent in the burrow she had stuffed herself into.  Hiding.  Terrified.  That was way, way too close for her, and Luna, despite the centuries having passed, obviously still remembered how to fight.             She stayed perfectly still, even as she heard Luna decimating more garden.  Carving paths, trying to flush Night out of hiding.  Night hoped that she was deep enough to avoid it, and waited.             “Sister!”             Luna growled, not turning as Celestia flapped to her.             “Sister, what happened?”             “TWAS THE,”             Celestia cast, and Luna’s otherwise deafening bellow became far more normal speech.             “abomination!”             “…Which?” Celestia asked unhappy that the question even had to be asked.             “Twas the Night Mother!”             Celestia blinked.  “…But she would never,”             “She was attacking Rest!” Luna screamed, and Celestia hesitated.  Through the spell, Luna’s voice was easier to hear, but even that was somewhat painful.  “Trying to manipulate her!”             “…Luna?”             Luna glanced at Celestia, and slowed at the look on her.             “…First, if it was her, she is already gone.  You would know that.  So please, calm down.”             “…” Luna huffed, and glared down below at the partly destroyed gardens.             “…You were never this mad before.”             “She attacked Rest.” Luna muttered, practically spitting.             Celestia paused, thinking.  She looked back, and noticed the guards heading over and nodded.             “I think we should talk sister.”             Luna glanced at Celestia, with a mix of emotions.  But as Celestia gave her a supportive smile, and gesture for her to follow, she did so.             By the time a few guards came up to Twilight’s broken window, she was still a little speechless.             “Princess?”             “Yes!” she started, surprised.             “We’ll be here during the night, just in case.”             “Yes.  Thank you.”             They nodded, and both took up positions near the window as Twilight tried to calm herself.  It was hard.             Luna had been enraged beyond all possible anger at the sight of Night.  The floor had a hole in it, as did, should one look, the floor below that and the wall below that.  She had shattered what remained of the window and cracked stone with her roar, a sound that Twilight was fairly sure counted as a kind of attack.             And just before that, she had thought Night actually had a heart only for the vampony to reveal it was all an act she had put on!  That on top of the many different things she had to worry about and keep an eye open for was…             Twilight sighed heavily.  It was too late, she had been up too long.  Surely, this would all look better in the daylight.             Caution, Twilight.             She groaned faintly, flopping into the bed.             Take care.  You must be ever more cautious as powers take notice of you.             “Why?” she asked, almost totally lacking the patience or willingness to hear of yet another thing she had to worry about.             Their interaction might spur them to knowledge or insight that you would not wish them to have.  Especially Celestia and Luna.             Twilight nodded, before hesitating and glaring a little.             “Why didn’t you warn me about Night?” she nearly accused.             It was a good lesson.             “What!?”             “Princess!?”             Twilight glanced to the window, where one guard looked rather startled because of her outburst.             “You yelled, is something that matter?”             “No.  It’s fine.” she said, waving him off.  He hesitated before returning to his place outside.  “A good lesson?” she hissed, taking care to stay quiet.             Night is many things, but she cannot hide her true nature well.  Her manipulations are almost harmless, and you will grow used to them through her.  In so doing, other threats will find you difficult to manipulate or lie to.             “…So all dead things lie then?”             …If any of them wish to deny their rest, then yes.  A ghost will eagerly try to use you, and greater undead would see your power their own.  The older the being, the greater their ability to control the lives around them; undead must hide from the living, and yet depend upon them.             And if you wish for a permanent solution to Night…             Twilight perked up.  “A way to cure her?”             In a sense.  Those reliant upon blood are not truly dead; they live in a kind of stasis, where they steal life from others to sustain their own.  As such, Night does truly live, only in a way far removed from most things.  And should she not receive vitality after this event, it is likely that she will starve, as she told you.             I can feel her thread weakening even now.  Luna hurt her badly, and she has little strength to spare.             “…What can I do?”             If she was to take the blood of an immortal, she would be sustained.  Unable to starve, though lacking the power she once had.  It is not a cure; only an end to the hunger.             “The blood of… You mean… If she bites… me?”             She would never hunger again.  There might be other effects as well, the interaction of your blood in her might cause strong changes in her.             But beware Twilight:             Night Light is very old.  She has lived long enough that she has forgotten mortality.  By nature, she must harm, and due to her extended life, might have no empathy or kindness left in her.  Should you grant her this gift, there is no guarantee that she will change, and might become even worse as you remove her one need.             Twilight nodded, thoughtful.             Of course, you could always end her, no matter your choice.             “…What should I do?” she murmured.             ...             The choice is yours alone, Twilight Sparkle.  I suggest speaking with others.             But if you are to spare her, you must do so before her fangs are blunt.             “Blunt?”             As she weakens more and more, eventually she will lose the ability to pierce the skin.  Her fangs will blunt, her body failing her, to die soon after.             “…How long?”             She will die in four days.  Her fangs will blunt before then, but I do not know when.             Twilight sighed.  So much to worry about.  So much to think about.  So many…             She totally forgot to ask Night about Waker.             …             Twilight gave it up.  Later.  Preferably tomorrow.  After she got some actual rest, and some time to sit and think.  When she hadn’t been up for almost two days straight.             Twilight sighed, and at least tried to relax.  She couldn’t, but as she tossed and turned, she heard something.  A gentle sound, an almost inaudible sound.             She idly noted that it seemed to come from Death as it lulled her to sleep.  The tune relaxing, almost perfectly.  Taking her concerns from her and calming her.  Promising that all would be alright, and telling her to sleep; everything would be fine.             As she fell asleep, she was smiling.