//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Howard Fillip Lovecraft // by Hengf //------------------------------// Chapter 7 A combination sad, and slightly perturbed, faces met her as she halted, for, as with previous tellings, she required a moment to compose herself upon its retrospection, but neither did she wish for this to fade with time. Though the faces of the younglings were for the death of the story’s character, the expression on that of the pale gold mare at the edge of the crowd was of the loss of kin. Her emotionally tenuous nature allowed for the tears that she attempted to hide, and it is for this reason that at some points she did not attend the retelling. As is the way of memories, Princess Luna recalled without evocation the day she personally visited Fluttershy and told her of Lovecraft’s fate. His sister was unbelieving at first, but eventually her eyes became the fonts for her lacrimation. Her cries were for answers as to why Luna had not saved him, but that is not to say she ever became resentful of her brother’s correspondence. The Princess, however, did not divulge the reason behind their ease of communication, for it was only Lovecraft who had shared in those nightmares. Remaining with Fluttershy for a few days, she aided in the consolment her tumultuous emotions, and n the process shared in pleasant recollections of the one now torn from their lives, becoming as sisters in that short span. Knowing well his life and journeys, she traveled to the homes of those to which he spoke and entreated with them to never speak to another what, she knew, had led Lovecraft to discover his artisan mark, his purpose, and his doom. Nopony should have to go through what he must have; that was her reasoning, but so too was the belief that nopony should have to go through what she had. That is why those asked in the land of Equestria of ancient and elder things will blame loss of memory for the lack of information. “Princess Celestia, my sister, sent a platoon to investigate the shack the following day. On the outside all seemed well and perhaps they thought his escape to be a simple quirk of poniality [Personality]. But when they opened the door they were assaulted by a putrid, disgusting, and poignant odour unlike any malodour they had previously encountered. A few of the guards nearly passed out from the blow it struck upon their senses, and only after much hesitation, and from the use of magick from the unicorns brought along, the entered the place. The house was empty except for a few papers and scrolls strewn about the floor and tables. All of his books and writings, anything that had pertained to his research were gone, but in their place was a foul ichor of repulsive greens and blacks. It was from this that the smell seemed to originate, and all investigating did their best to avoid the egregious substance. Nothing found gave clue to his end, only the scream heard the day before. The pieces left were simple scribblings, and only one was brought back and given to me, but it did nothing to aid me in my pursuit of answers.” That paper, she recalled, though at which she only hinted, told of his visitation with the changelings, and upon it were written words describing subdivision of love. Upon the slightly mottled page were strange words wrote definitions to such written as well. Agápe: Love of the Soul, Éros: Love of the Body, Philia: Love of the Mind, and Storge: Love of Family. Underneath the first and third were written Princess Luna and the last Fluttershy. At the very end of the page was transcribed one question: Whom do I love? This had little effect in the mitigation of her sense of loss and sorrowful disposition. “He delved into abysses better left undisturbed, and the things that inhabited did not wish to see the light of day. He once told me in one of his letters that searchers after horror haunt strange, far places, and only serves further to shew just what it was he sought. He searched for answers to his fears, but it appears that those fears found him.” Finished after a good amount of time, she surveyed the crowd, and the small scared faces were huddled in small divisions, and she smiled warmly hoping to alleviate them of some of this fear. Oak, whose question of Lovecraft’s relationship with Luna had brought mirth, now shakily stood up as she said in a quivering voice, features worrisome: “D…d…did that really happen?” and, after sharing a look with a certain shy individual, she said reassuringly: “Lovecraft sought for horror, yes, but those horrors were once told through the ages in the form of legends, he even wrote a few himself, but they were simply that: legends. Though Lovecraft was real, you should not dwell on stories and phantasies, for they are notoriously false,” hoping, as she said this, that one day even she could believe that. “After his loss I had only the letters he wrote me to remember him by. Some detailed tales he had composed, and, I feel, the best way to honour his memory is with their telling.” Appearing to be slightly relieved, though a quaver still present in her step, she began to return to her parents, as did all the others present, ready to return home. The general humdrum was a mix of excitement by the younglings and reassurances that the stories were just that by some of the older ponies. A single piercing wail interrupted the idle palavering of the assemblage, its unexpectedness and reality petrifying most of the grouping. The pitch and sound of it were not strange to the ears of two who had not moved, and in unison they said in disbelief two titles of the same being. “Lovecraft!” “Howard!” With its sounds Captain Nacht, who had replaced Captain Rampart in the patrolling, ran to the side of his Princess, moving in front of her to act as buffer to whatever might be barreling towards them, Captain Rampart hastening towards them as well. One in the crowd had heard them exclaim his name and asked frightfully: “L...Lovecraft!? But he’s…” but was unable to finish and suggest to the rest the horrific implications of his presence, for the magickally amplified voice of the Princess interrupted. “ALL OF YOU TAKE UP SHELTER IN THE TOWN HALL. NOW!” Princess Luna’s elevated shouts were enough to take the attention of all and they ran from her towards the centre of town. Rampart now present and giving aid in her protection, she realized Fluttershy was also present at her side, but did not attempt to have her leave, knowing her remainder to be steadfast and hardy. The area now vacant, but for the four remaining, Twilight having left to oversee the sheltering in the town hall, they waited. Minutes passed and still nothing. The guards braced themselves as rustle of branches and the snapping of twigs betrayed the proximity of what was headed towards them. Above them flew some silhouetted figure as it crashed into the roof of an adjacent building and soon whatever it was rolled down the opposite and landed on the ground, a vocalization of pain heard. Captain Rampart, with a nodding of approval from his fellow, went to investigate, and, after disappearing around the corner of the house, called to the rest to come forward to see. Lying there, wings and horn now fully grown, was the thin and pale figure of Lovecraft, pain expressed in his face as he lay atop one of the feathered wings, as pale as his coat. His eyes were closed; his only focus the agony brought on by his plummet. Fluttershy was the first to reach him, and, having knelt by his side, held his head in her arms, she was crying as she whispered his name. “Howard?” Little time was spent before a reply was heard “They hunt for me,” his voicing, weak and tired, caused the guards to look out towards the line of trees, moving to defensive stances, ready to protect the Princess at all costs. “I have seen the symbols that they protect so dearly.” His eyes now open; sadness was reflected from the ecru depths. Though tumult was the word for the contortion of feelings in her face at these newly acquired appendages Fluttershy still stroked his mane as she had once done. “Shh, Howard, you’re safe now.” His voice was filled with anguish as said: “You are not safe, so long as I remain here. For so many years I’ve run, teleportation possible through my new found magick,” he placed his hoof on her face, “but my unfamiliarity with its nuances made the destination kaotic. For however many years I have escaped them, but each time they came closer and closer, but to-night I will give myself to them.” A strange, yet unsettling buzzing could now be heard from the forests edge. Though nothing could be seen, it raked on the nerves like the claws of some abominable beast. The guards became uneasy at this sound, its din not like that of bees or flies or anything to natural to Equestria, but remained stalwart. The effect it had upon Lovecraft was noticed through the horror in his face as he looked towards the forested outskirts. Luna, who had also knelt down beside him, stood up and turned her head from them, hurt shewing in her eyes. “If thou desirest to give up thy self to them, why arrive here to only be torn away from our sight again.” He painstakingly rose at this, his teeth gritted as a means to forgo the stiffness brought on by the fall. “I could not let them take me before I communicated to the both of you feelings it has taken the fear of capture by these horrors to realize. For you my sister,” he turned to look at her touching her face, “and for you my Princess,” he brought her face around to bear, “I have never expressed the love I feel for either of you despite the care you have given to me without question, nor without condition, and I could not be taken knowing I never told either of you.” The buzzing had swelled since then, yet still nothing could be seen. His voice became a whisper as he continued. “But most importantly, the two of thee are the only two who have shared in my dreams, one through my speaking and one through experiencing them, and can speak their words, and I tell you now to never speak of them to another, to spare any my fate.” His face grew remorseful as he smiled, more of a grimace, as the buzzing, that insistent droning, continued, him seeming to understand. “They will not risk shewing themselves to anypony, even as meager a group as this, so great is their desire for secrecy. I found my purpose, so I might die complete. Good-bye my belovéd sister and my belovéd Princess Luna,” and with that he moved from the softly crying face of Luna and the sorrow-stricken features of his sister, tears pouring to the point of near blindness. He walked betwixt the Captains, content with his fate, and looked back one last time at them both and gave a strained smile. “Restrain him,” came the voice of Luna as he looked back, the sincerity of her voice resulting in the quick response of the guards and Lovecraft’s struggle against their hold, pleading with them to let him go. He turned to Luna in question. “What are you doing?” “The day I let another fall to save others where I may replace them, is the day I am no longer fit to rule,” her face now a mask, “take him back to Canterlot with the orders that: until my return, he is best able to serve in my place, speak not of where I go. Bind him if thou must.” Lovecraft, not wanting to believe what he heard, shook his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ over and over again as what she planned began to dawn on him. She moved towards Lovecraft and leaned in close to him the magickal aura of her horn engulfing both hers and his, and in his mind he could hear her voice. “I love thee as well, Howard Fillip Lovecraft. If it is discovery they fear so, then that is what I shall bargain with; they cannot hold me forever” and with those words also came the knowledge that with her message was the binding of his magick and wings for the time it would take for them to return to the city. As she began to walk forward looking toward the eminence of the noise, Captain Rampart and Nacht shared a look while keeping still there struggling ward, and attempted to protest her action. “But Princess, we cannot…” her response was swift and vociferous, as she turned on them angrily. “THOU WOULDST DISOBEY A DIRECT ORDER!” Fear reflected in their eyes at this onslaught, but not at the anger she displayed, but fear for her safety. Captain Nacht, eyes beginning to tear, began to drag Lovecraft towards the chariot. Captain Rampart followed as well, Lovecraft becoming more animate in his attempts to escape their hold as he did so, but his habitual lack of food kept him powerless, especially against the grips of well-trained guards. His screams of protest plainly heard above the buzzing, Fluttershy trailed behind them as they dragged Lovecraft along. Turning away from them, she began to move towards the bombinating forest. She moved slowly, wings curled against her figure as she moved ever closer. The loss of Lovecraft had taught her strength and caring for all her subjects to the point sacrificing herself for their well-being. In those moments she fully accepted what she had attempted to deny for the years since his disappearance. She knew, also, why his night terrors had left him, for they had transgressed from their dream time haunts, to take form in the material world. The knowledge of what creatures it was she was to face were present with all the revelation of her final moments. With mane of starlight flowing, dark sapphire coat and wings masking her as she entered the shadow of the trees, she said their name aloud. “Mi-go,” and with a silence taking over the hidden things, Luna, Princess of the Moon, went to greet the whisperers in the darkness. ------------------------- Lovecraft’s protestations had reduced to whimpers as the guards pushed him into the seat, lacrimating all the while. He almost attempted to escape, but the tearful, yet austere look from the scarred Rampart quelled these thoughts. Looking Lovecraft with pain, Rampart tore his eyes from him, hitching himself to the chariot. The driver could not exchange glances, so great was their combined grief, and the glowing eyes moved to the sky as they took off, Fluttershy having joined her brother, that terrible buzzing still present behind them. He could only look to the forest as they sped towards the city, the swiftness of their flight the only thing holding back the pain felt by Luna’s guardians. When the silence came over the forest, Lovecraft gave a gasp of pain, knowing the loss of Princess Luna to be at hoof, and in between sobs, he whispered: “Thou dost not understand…The ones they take…do not return.” He curled in the seat as Luna had done, as the chariot moved ever closer towards the walls of Canterlot, her message on their lips, her loss on their minds.