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The Library
Zero hour + 5
As Twilight Sparkle found herself nodding off, she heard something - something that she couldn’t quite place, like a forgotten memory tucked away in a shadow. The sound was familiar, quite familiar in fact; of all things Twilight may have been modest about, her sharp memory wasn’t among them.
At any other given point in time, the young unicorn mare would have more than likely stalled the inevitable march of slumber, perplexed by a new conundrum to challenge her wit and deft powers of deduction. However - and understandably so - given the rather taxing (physically and emotionally) past few hours of her life, the conundrum could wait. More than once, she found herself fighting back vivid, horrible images that flashed before her mind’s eye like so many flittering, elusive mental photographs. She briefly considered casting a simple sleep spell on herself, but quickly thought against it - the spell guaranteed up to eight hours of uninterrupted rest, and she knew she couldn’t risk being magically incapacitated should an emergency arise.
Before slumber finally took her for the evening, though, she had a thought.
Where do we go from here?
Scrunching her nose ever so slightly, Twilight realised that she hadn’t quite lived up to her self-proclaimed skills of organization - a skill set that, by nature, involved thinking on the fly and organizing alternate plans as the situation developed. The mare resisted chastising herself for letting the raw reality of the evening overpowering her normally keen leadership senses. What point was there in beating herself up over what happened? At least her friends were safe. But Soarin’...
Sweet Celestia, she thought to herself. He died. He really, really died.
For being so well-studied, it was not as though the concept of death was entirely unknown to Twilight. Throughout her literary odyssey, she had often come across works of fiction - as well as non-fiction - which had delved into both the subtle nuances and the sometimes all-encompassing unreality that comes inherent with the passing of another living being. And even outside the world of books, Twilight was not entirely unfamiliar with death: as a young filly, she could recall distinct memories of attending her grandmother’s funeral. Though she expected the entire affair to be a solemn, quiet occasion, she found herself rather surprised when she found it to be quite the opposite. It was more a celebration of her grandmother’s long, full, happy life instead of a time for mourning; indeed, one of the last memories Twilight could recall of her grandmother while she was still alive involved her making a promise to not be sad when she passes, but rather be happy, and rest assured that they would meet again someday. It was a warm sentiment, one which Twilight found a great deal of solace within.
Despite herself, though, Twilight soon found herself shivering. Even fond memories of days gone by did little to quell the vivid images that still appeared in her mind every now and again. The shivers she encountered must have been audible enough to draw the attention of Pinkie, who had volunteered to wait out the remainder of their watch alone; trotting over as gently as her hooves would allow, she covered the half-conscious unicorn mare with a woolen blanket she had found on an item of furniture in the room.
“Th-...Thanks, Pinkie,” Twilight whispered.
“No problem, Twilight. Get some rest, ok?”
“I will. Good night, Pinkie.”
“Good night, Twilight.”
With the rather soft pegasus-down pillow to accompany her makeshift bedding, Twilight was finally able to truly get comfortable and relax a bit. Regardless of the thoughts that still swirled unabated through her mind, eventually, she drifted off to sleep.
And in her sleep, she dreamt.
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300m above Canterlot
Zero Hour + 20min
As Luna fled, she wept. She wept for her beloved sister, who must be suffering horribly at the blackened, dead hooves of the monstrosity that threatened to destroy all of Equestria. She wept for the hundreds, if not thousands of ponies that would perish and succumb to the Cantering Death. She wept for the scared, frightened foals all across the kingdom and beyond, having only known peace and love in their time in the world.
“Damnaret ad infernum! Quam potest hoc esse?!” She spat, wondering what cruel, cruel twist of fate could allow such infernal beings into this world again.
What little my little ponies know of true horror... she morbidly thought to herself.
Cursing the fate that had been wrought upon her, she knew that she had no choice but to bust a hole straight through the Canterlot barrier. Celestia’s gesture had only earned her so much distance, much to her chagrin.
An odd snippet of text popped into her mind, an excerpt from the very book which the massive, awesome spell that summons the massive barriers originates from.
For though an alicorn may breaketh the shield with their own might, they then must sacrifice a great amount of their magics for a time - all the while risking a concentrated full-level horde effect of the Cantering Death.
“Cantering Death,” Luna said aloud, albeit her voice cracked on the fourth syllable. “Oh Starswirl, what have you done to us?
The memories came like inklings and misremembered little things, a by-product of a multi-millennial lifespan. Luna had grown accustomed to it, learning that if she had a great need to recall a specific memory or point in time, she was usually able to do so with little difficulty. The only great exception to that rule were during the times the great magician Starswirl the Bearded still trotted the earth. It was a time of great magical discovery - brand new theories (known since the dawn of time to the alicorn sisters, of course, but they were so proud of their little ponies!), new spells, new revolutions in ways of abstract and linear thought. It gave reason to their lives, and the love only sprouted and grew forth from those times.
Luna knew what must follow, and she was not looking forward to it in the slightest. The last time she had to breach an arcane barrier had been well over seven hundred years ago in the Zebrican tribal lands, and...suffice it to say, it did not turn out well. The unfortunate side effect of a creature containing so much latent magical energy is that it causes a sort of magical discharge - a literal full-circle flash of light so intense that it absolutely vaporizes any living - or dead - being that happens to venture too close.
And that’s when Luna got an idea.
Though it might be risky, her elder sister had recently informed her of a method she had developed to attract those afflicted with the virus. It acted as a sort of pheromone, but on a magical level; it literally invaded the flow of the leylines surrounding the mountain-top capital and artificially “inoculating” the raw magics with a spell that attracted the dead.
“If it helps our little ponies...then there is really no choice in the matter, is there?” she mused to herself, finding confidence and strength through her desire to see her subjects safe and unharmed. She had little idea how many were already afflicted in the capital, but she knew what must follow.
With little more than a slight nod of her head, Luna focused all of her energies on the magic that coursed through the very reality before her, her keen immortal eyes picking up on the faintest of glows in the the ground so far below.
I am with you, sister.
“C-Celestia?!” Luna cried out, the voice in her head ringing as clear as the day her sister brought.
He has not bested me yet, but I fear it may be too late. Prepare thyself, sister.”
“N-No! Oh please, don’t, don’t you dare-” And then it hit her - a massive surge of raw power, so intense that her eyes snapped shut, with her wings threatening to follow suit. Her back stiffened, and her eyes shot wide open, glowing with a radiant, impossibly white light that lit up the skies.
“Celestia! Why?! You-you promised us! You promised!”
You know as well as I do that you will need all the magic you can get your hooves on in the coming hours - and days, if necessary. Find the elements. Avenge me. Avenge me, then run and hide. You know what must come next. I will be waiting for you in the other realm, sister.
“I...I didn’t want this, Celestia...not again...”
Weep not, little sister. I shall see you again soon.
With that, the energy coalesced, seemingly seeping into the younger alicorn’s very being. She practically thrummed with the immense power, knowing what must come next.
With an anguished cry of pain, of shock, of disbelief - of pure hatred for the undead abominations stalking her kingdom, she locked her wings and dove at an incredible, blistering speed, so fast that her dark-blue form would be nearly impossible to track in the unholy darkness that beset the land.
They stumbled toward her with malicious purpose, droves and droves of them, all clamoring for the head of the pack, eager to demolish the source of the newfound waves of energy tantalizingly drawing them closer. Snarling and snapping, they closed in for the kill.
Or so they thought. With another cry of outrage, Princess Luna channeled the massive amounts of magical energies through her slender horn, grunting as she brought to bear a massive spell. A deep, thready thrum began to shake the ground as a perfect sphere of lambent, blue-white light began to gather. It grew in size until it nearly reached the circumference of a small Canterlot residence, then suddenly flattened into a long cone of energy that lanced across her pursuers. The beam cut through the swath of them like a hot knife through butter, sending bloodied, severed extremities flying in every which direction, decapitating a good number almost instantly. Sleek with their own black ichor, the frenzied mob began to fall, one by one, dismembered bodies and parts and odd hunks of glistening flesh and sinew littering the blood-soaked earth. And yet, still they came - some missing forearms or forelegs, others showing exposed, gleaming white bone, teeth gnashing and voices sounding out as one in a wailing, screeching cry. As she brought the beam to bear again and again, the base of the arcane laser began to grow bulbous, then flattened again, but this time into a shape that swirled about Luna’s form - a sort of magical barrier of her very own, one which would momentarily allow her escape.
“Back! Back to the void with all of you!” she bellowed in a magically-amplified Royal Canterlot Voice, charged with so much power that those infected nearest to her simply liquified and fell apart, juices sloshing into the already slick earth below.
The images began to blur together, and soon, Luna found herself panting, literally aglow as she stood in the thick of a pile of fresh corpses. With little fanfare, Luna took to the skies.
That should keep the demons at bay for a while longer, she thought to herself. Knowing that it would take a while for more infected to gather, she seized the brief window of opportunity she had been afforded. Beating her wings quickly against the chill night air, she burst through the glowing arcane barrier that housed Canterlot, sending a rippling shockwave throughout the entire structure. Across the city, as one, every single pony that had succumbed to the Cantering Death cried out in unison, and that was when the city knew that they were doomed.
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Canterlot, ground level
Zero hour +36min
Fancy Pants stirred in his study, the heavy book falling from his hooves as the sound rang out clear in the night. Having found himself unable to sleep after the disturbing events that had already transpired this evening, the popular unicorn stallion decided to pick up a book or two, perhaps pour himself a stiff drink to calm his nerves. What he did not expect, however, was a massively loud, blood-curdling cry that set the hairs on his neck on end.
And furthermore, he hadn’t expected some of the cries to come from within his own home.
A sinking feeling gripped the pit of his gut as he realized the error of his plan; thinking that his respectably-sized home would be enough of a sort of safe-haven should any threats arise throughout the night, he elected to stay and barricade himself, his staff, and his marefriend Fleur de Lis within. Cursing his lack of foresight, he sprang to his hooves, casting off the velvet night-robe he was dressed in.
“Fleur? Fleur, where are you?!” he called out, panic seeping into his voice as his anxious hooves took him galloping down the long, wooden-floored hallways of his estate. Statues of famous ponies throughout history - some of his most prized collections, no less - were cast in a darkened shadow, usurping the kind faces that once graced the stones into a demonic, sneering array of horrid visages. The sight only spurred Fancy Pants onward.
His ears perked up as he passed one of the many guest rooms built into his estate; a sort of muffled shuffling of hooves, irregular thumps that set him instantly on edge. He skidded to a halt, his grey-blue hooves clacking against the slats in the wood. With little hesitation, he threw his shoulder into the door, cracking the frame with a well-placed blow that sent him sprawling into the lavishly-decorated room. In front of him, his slender, beautiful marefriend lay prostrate beneath some kind of monster, a cruel joke of what a pony is meant to look like. Its jaws practically unhinged as it snapped and nipped at the shrieking unicorn mare, her long legs flailing as she tried but failed to find purchase.
“Fleur!” the stallion cried as he dove forward. Spreading his front hooves wide, he launched himself airborne with his hind legs, wrapping his forelegs around the creature’s midsection in a diving tackle. The two figures, hopelessly ensnared with one another, tumbled to the floor in a mess of writhing extremities and sharp, loud growls and grunts. Somehow, Fancy Pants was able to gain the upper hoof, pouncing on the creature and throwing a frenzied forehoof across its face, drawing blood. Enraged, powered by an awesome anger that the normally well-mannered unicorn stallion had scarcely felt before, he set upon his love’s attacker, her would-be murderer, pummeling the monster again and again with glancing blows.
“Fancy! Be careful!” Fleur cried out, trying her best to come to her senses. She bled moderately from her left ear, sending trickles of red down her neck, staining her light pink fur. Fancy Pants kept hitting the twitching form over and over, and Fleur found herself wincing with every blow.
Before long, Fancy Pants found himself huddled over the twitching corpse of the monster, his hooves soaked with thick, black blood. He fought the urge to gag, determined to keep his composure in front of Fleur.
“I...I think that, that creature, it bit me...” True to her word, a bite mark seeped blood slowly, staining the fur on her neck.
damn it,” he spat. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t fast enough.”
“Fancy, it’s all right. I’ve had much worse, really. Besides, we cannot stay here - if they’re already inside of the estate, then...”
“Then we need to move. Come on!” With little more than that, the two unicorns started, their hooves clacking on the wood as they headed for the long, winding staircase. Already, a few living dead lingered on the stairs themselves, some stumbling over their own hooves or disabled by a gruesome litany of injuries. One undead earth pony mare lunged at Fleur, and Fancy Pants was quick to throw a shoulder into her, sending the creature sprawling over the side of the stair case, breaking its skull wide open like a gruesome pinata on the hard, hard floor below.
“Keep moving!” Fancy Pants cried, bobbing and weaving around various obstacles that littered their path.
“Where are we to go?” Fleur huffed in response, trying her best to keep up.
“There are far too many ponies in the city for us to remain here. We need to flee to the countryside, if we can - or is there no way through the barrier? At the very least, we need to get out of the middle of the city. Look out! Left!” A pegasus stallion, sans wings, lurched in the general direction of Fleur, and she was quick to duck out of his way. Fancy Pants gave him a solid buck to the jaw for his trouble. Saving their breath for the running, the two made their way down the stairs, reaching the front door in record time. Fancy Pants bucked the door wide open, sending a few infected ponies flying. He winced as one of them went to close its slobbering, mad jaws on one of his forelegs, darting out of the way at the last possible second.
“This is madness!” he cried, the insanity of the situation not doing well for his nerve.
Then, a sound - a cry in unison, louder than the first, that stopped the two of them dead in their tracks.
“We need to go,” Fancy Pants said softly. “Now. I promise I will do my absolute best to protect you, love, but we need to move. Follow me, and stay close!”
“I - I will. Lead on, love.”
With that, the two souls cast themselves amongst the soulless, as so many others were doing the same.
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Twilight saw this, and more, as Princess Luna finally entered her dreams.