//------------------------------// // 11 - Up to Speed // Story: Gloaming // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// I dreamed of vampires that night. Vampires that hunted as griffons did, with bows and arrows and flannel shirts and those stupid caps, but still mounted their kills’ heads over the fireplace in spite of those kills being ponies. Homeguard had River’s head on his door; decapitation didn’t stop the latter from complaining about the terrible view. Cascadia made up his face to look like a clown. Then Levanta and a smokey purple pony who had “Babbling Brook” flashing over her head in neon started doing the can-can in an off-key minor and things got weird. I woke up just before sunrise feeling drained and sore. I wasn’t sure how much was physical and how much was psychological. Vampires? Really? As a ranger, I saw some pretty strange things, but this seemed too far out there. Almost. I still remembered the time I scoffed at the existence of leshies, and a day later, had to bargain with one to stop it from overtaking a town. Yet… vampires? I recall reading an article on cryptids in some nature magazine when I was in college. Its subject had been that, given the nature of magic, some cryptids could be dismissed out of hoof, as they would go against the laws of magic. Vampires were one of them. Supposedly, vampirism would require a near-perpetual spell based on blood magic that could transfer itself to other individuals, which was as close to impossible as made no odds. But in the last four years or so, the apparently impossible had been happening in Equestria at a rather alarming rate. And just because something only had a one in a billion chance of happening didn’t mean that billionth chance would never come along. Maybe, somewhere out there, there was somepony smart enough to make a spell like that. That was assuming they came from a spell at all, of course. They could be a different species of monster altogether, something that merely looked like a pony but didn’t have any association with them at all. They might not reproduce by biting others. But last night, Homeguard had specifically asked me if I’d been bitten. I must’ve lain in my bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling while my mind chased itself in circles (good thing it was still the weekend). Eventually, I sort of accepted it in a skeptical “uh-huh, sure, whatever you say” sort of way. I’d learn more today. Right? Homeguard was showing up, right? I loped downstairs to find a bed-headed Levanta staring intently at a bowl of fruit and sketching it out. She had the pencil-bracelet thing wrapped around her fetlock. Even as I watched, she finished up, flicked her sketch away, put the pencil in her mouth, and started another sketch. The second one was much scratchier. “Morning,” I said to Levanta. She glanced at me and nodded. “Morning.” Back to sketching. “Did you leave a nailgun out last night? I came downstairs and the tablecloth was greasy.” Right. I’d forgotten to put that away. “Sorry. My fault. Don’t worry about cleaning the tablecloth, I’ll get it.” I looked at the first of Levanta’s sketches. I’ll admit it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t that bad, either. “Drawing practice?” I asked. “Yeah,” said Levanta. Skritch skritch. “I need to start somewhere, don’t I?” For the pencil in her mouth, I was surprised at how articulate she was. “You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you?” “Sure. I really want to learn to draw.” “Good.” I started making coffee. “Just so you know, I’m going out at noon today and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” “Alright. I was thinking of going over to Babbling Brook’s today, anyway. Back by dinner.” “Sounds good.” The whole morning, the ideas in my head kept going back and forth at each other, yet neither gained any ground. I’d seen too much to say that Homeguard wasn’t a vampire, yet didn’t know enough to say that he was a vampire. I kept trying to distract myself, but my mind always pulled me back. Levanta left around mid-morning. Once nopony was watching, I started pacing. I needed to do something. It didn’t help; my mind spat out wilder and wilder ideas. Eventually, all I could think was, Homeguard better have some answers for me. He wasn’t outside when I looked out the window at 12:58, but seconds after the hour hand settled on the 1, I heard a knock. I looked through the peephole: Homeguard. I pulled open the door. “Hey.” Homeguard nodded. “Hello. Do you mind where we go for lunch?” “Someplace fattening and expensive. I want comfort food on your bill.” He almost grinned. “Very well.” I didn’t say anything as he led me into Delta. Neither did he. He took us to some small Chineighse restaurant that was slowly emptying out thanks to this being post-lunch-rush. He convinced the seater to give us a table in the back corner of the room, far from anypony else. We were given menus, I ordered a water to drink, and we were left alone. We stared at each other across the table. I cleared my throat. “Well?” Homeguard raised an eyebrow, every inch innocent. “Well what?” “You know damn well what. I want some answers, okay?” “Yes, no, to get to the other side, 42-” “Thanks for the answers. That was all I wanted.” I stood up from the table and headed for the exit. “Wait!” Homeguard ran in front of me and lightly put a hoof on my chest. I stopped walking. “Please, I- I apologise. I am… in a difficult situation, and-” “So am I,” I said, looking him in the eye. “So you cooperate with me, and I’ll cooperate with you. Happy?” He stared unblinkingly back at me. His golden eyes were piercing, and mine began to water. I blinked freely, but didn’t look away. He lowered his hoof. “I am not,” he said slowly, “but my unhappiness has nothing to do with you. For the moment, I am satisfied.” I grunted and turned back around. When we took our seats again, Homeguard spread his hooves wide. “Here we are. Ask me anything.” “Are you really a vampire?” That was the only question I could possibly think of at the moment. “Right to the point, I see.” “I just want this settled. Yes or no?” If it were me, I probably would’ve looked around, just to be sure that nopony was watching us. Homeguard, however, simply said, “Yes. And to answer your next question, while I do need to drink blood, it does not necessarily need to be pony blood. I have found that animal blood works… acceptably. Although not all other vampires think the same way.” I waited for a reaction from myself. As with last night, it didn’t come. I just sort of accepted it. I was finding it slightly more plausible than I had while in the dark, but still. “So that was why River was hunting me, right? He wanted to drink my blood?” “He thought it smelled… sublime,” Homeguard said. “He arrived here several moons ago. Hailey and I attempted to convince him to abandon killing ponies in favor of animals, but he refused to hide the bodies he drained and perpetually expressed dissatisfaction with his diet. Yet I never truly believed that he would discard his progress so easily. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I…” He hung his head, his ears folded slightly. “I should have been more insistent with him.” Arrived a few moons ago: check. Didn’t hide the bodies: check. Pissed at what he had to do, probably leading him to take it out on animals: check. As if last night hadn’t been enough evidence, I was now completely convinced River was the monster killing Delta’s animals. Of course, how was I supposed to tell Cascadia that? “The monster was a vampire. But he’s dead now. Uh, no, I can’t show you the body, we burned it up. What are those nice mares with straitjackets doing?” And if Homeguard and Hailey were also feeding on animals but hiding the bodies, that’d explain the cave. No need in sending the town they’d moved to into a panic, now, was there? I clicked my tongue as I thought. I needed another question and settled on- “So how did you know where I was last night?” “Hailey,” said Homeguard. “She can see the future and distant events. She had a vision of you under attack, a-” “Wait, wait, hold up. The future? So she’s… what, a seer? A prophet?” “Seer, I think, would be the better term.” “That’s ridiculous.” “It is what she is.” “Look,” I said as I cracked open the menu, “you can see the future, but it takes a lot of effort. You can’t just… see it like you’re walking down the street.” I looked at the menu. Hmm, a special on cheese wontons. Sounded interest- “And, hey, Swan? After you brush aside my capability to walk down the street tomorrow, order the first thing you see, they’re great!” I shivered. “Cheese wontons it is,” I muttered. “I hope you enjoy them.” Homeguard hadn’t touched his menu. Folding mine up, I said, “So, since you drink blood, does that mean you can’t eat food at all?” “I can,” he said, his lip curling a little, “but pony food is… repulsive to me. It is like eating dirt.” “C’mon, geophagy’s not that bad.” Homeguard stared. One of his ears drooped. “Geo…” “Geophagy. Eating dirt. I mean, we- ponies get nutrients from plants, and plants get nutrients from the dirt, so to a certain extent, you’re cutting out the middlemare. Of course, if you keep it up, indigestible stuff like silica will eventually build up, and ew.” “…Ah. …And you’ve done it?” As the event in question happened when I was young, stupid, impulsive, and easily dared, I quickly changed the subject. “So how come Hailey can see the future? Are vampires naturally precognitive?” Homeguard gave me a suspicious look, but didn’t try to press his question. “They are not, but vampires have powers outside the abilities of normal ponies, each one unique. Not dissimilar to special talents and cutie marks, in actuality. Clairvoyance is one of them.” “And yours?” “Mind reading.” Almost immediately, I began imagining the dullest sections of my textbooks I could remember. Just the idea of mind reading creeped me out. It wasn’t fair. My mind was supposed to be private. Even if Homeguard didn’t do anything with whatever he found inside my head, I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Homeguard smirked and tilted his head slightly. “With the exception of you.” “Uh-huh,” I said, trying and failing to keep my thoughts on a blank piece of paper rather than smashing a toilet over his head, followed by the kitchen sink. “Sure.” “I mean that with the utmost sincerity. I cannot, I have never been able to, read your mind.” “And why should I believe that?” Homeguard groaned and kneaded his forehead. “Do you remember the day we first met?” he asked. I nodded. How could I not? He’d acted like I’d tried to put him in a full nelson when all I said was, “Hey.” “I could not feel you approaching. The sound of your voice shocked me for the first time in a long time. It was as if an invisible mare suddenly stabbed you in the ribs.” I almost didn’t want to believe him. It was too easy, too convenient, too… neat. Why should my mind just happen to be the one he couldn’t read? What made it so special? On the other hoof, if he was lying… why? He’d need to set it up almost a week in advance, before he knew our paths would cross. What purpose would lying even serve him? Couldn’t he just say he had some other power? Or even that not all vampires had powers? In the end, although the convenience of my mind being unreadable still felt suspicious, his lying required him to know too much too early. Carefully, I let my defenses down. They probably weren’t much good, anyway. Our waitress returned with my water, and before I could say anything, Homeguard had ordered cheese wontons (“We’re sharing.”) and sent her away again. Now that I was paying attention, his words seemed to come just a little bit too quickly, like he knew what he was going to say before the waitress had finished. That got me thinking. Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I asked, “So whose mind in here can you read?” “Everypony’s. Except yours.” I raised an eyebrow and pointed at a random pony, a mare sitting alone. “Money,” Homeguard said promptly. “She is deducing how much she needs to tip. She has a method; as the sales tax here is roughly six percent, she multiplies that by three for an eighteen percent tip. Slightly over the usual fifteen percent, but she does not mind.” “She does know she could just take ten percent from the total price, half of that, and add them together, right?” “Yes, but this reminds her of her grandfather. He taught it to her.” I shrugged and pointed at ano- “She just figured it out,” said Homeguard abruptly. “Counting the amount out…” (I checked; she was digging through a purse.) “Leaving in 3… 2… 1…” The mare dropped a small pile of bits on the table and walked away. Homeguard smirked at me. I pointed at another pony. “Sex. He’s caught onto his husband’s sly hints that he got something special for their anniversary, and he’s hoping it’s a-” I quickly pointed at another. “Money… Sex… Money… Sex… Cat…” “Are ponies’ minds really that uninteresting?” “It is a normal day for them. They are thinking normal things. And I prefer uninteresting thoughts, as uninteresting thoughts mean they are paying no attention to us.” Homeguard smiled. “Rest assured, I shall know if we are at risk of being overheard.” I looked around. Nopony seemed to be looking in our direction, but that could change. At least we’d have warning. I started examining the whorls in the table. Maybe it was his frankness, but vampirism was getting to be less and less of an issue. It was just kinda sorta there, the same way the princesses were just kinda sorta alicorns. Unusual, certainly, but not worth making a big fuss over. Considering I hadn’t heard any stories about mysterious disappearances over the past few years, I doubted he nommed on ponies. Of course, there was the issue of what a vampire was doing in this little corner of Equestria. “So why here? Why Delta?” “When I told you of Hailey’s and my reason for coming to Delta, I was completely true, albeit, perhaps not true completely. We avoid cities. Less ponies means less temptation for us, less chances to smell blood. And the wildlife are of sufficient number for us to feed without attracting undue attention.” Homeguard scowled, but I knew it wasn’t at me. “Provided we practice discretion.” I wasn’t too put out by Homeguard eating the animals I work with. Animals eat each other all the time, and one of the things drilled into you when you’re studying to become a ranger is that nature is not nice. For every picture of a smiling pony giving carrots to raccoons, there’s a dozen instances of those raccoons stealing and eating bird eggs. What I was more interested in was- “What put you onto animal blood in the first place? I’d think that pony blood would have to be satisfying in order for a vampire to keep drink it.” “I have never drunk pony blood.” I blinked. “Wha- Never? It’s just that easy?” Homeguard peeled his lips back into another not-smile. “Hardly. It was like walking over a bed of nails before I discovered animal blood worked sufficiently. It-” His voice dropped, and he looked down. “It has to do with my… turning.” Now that I was asking questions, the next logical one almost leapt out of my mouth. At the last moment, I was able to turn it to, “Ah. I won’t pry.” “I may tell you later. But not now.” Homeguard sat up a little straighter. “Our waitress is returning.” Less than a minute later, a plate of cheese wontons was deposited in front of me. I thanked the waitress and sniffed my food. Smelled good. I devoured a wonton. Tasted good. I licked off my hoof. “So,” I said, “sunlight and holy ground obviously don’t affect you. What about garlic?” Homeguard chuckled. “My attitude towards garlic is the same as that towards any other food. I suspect it was a rumor started by vampires themselves to fake a weakness.” “Reflections?” “No change from ponies.” “Rice arithmomania?” “None.” “Invitations?” “Technically, yes, but because I am polite, not because of supernatural rules.” “Stake to the heart?” “Ah-hah. Now there mythology is accurate, for that is one of the few reliable ways to kill a vampire. Should the body not be completely destroyed, it is possible for a vampire to be revived, even if a spell might be necessary. A wooden stake that punctures the heart, however, will cause the vampire to disintegrate into ash, killing them permanently.” I nodded. “Uh-huh. Fire?” I ate another wonton. “Also fairly reliable, assuming you burn every body part. You saw Hailey burning River last night.” I couldn’t hold back a shiver. “Yeah.” Those being the only vampiric weaknesses I knew of, I didn’t say anything else for another few wontons. If Homeguard was annoyed or impatient, he didn’t show it. Eventually, I said, “So does Cascadia know about this?” “No,” Homeguard said, twitching slightly. “She does not. It is better if she does not.” “Why? Call me crazy, but I think she’d want to know that there were vampires running around her town. If nothing else, she’d be aware that-” Homeguard suddenly flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying that I am incapable of controlling my instincts?” he hissed. I recoiled at how sudden it was. “N-no, I-” “Then I fail to see why Cascadia — why anypony — needs to know of my condition!” “Well, it’s just- I think it’s a good idea if she knows that vampires exist! She probably won’t care that you are one, bu-” “‘Probably’? Pray tell, what makes you assume that?” “I- I don’t care!” “Keep your voice down,” whispered Homeguard. “We are attracting attention.” He glanced shiftily at a couple several tables over. They weren’t looking our way, but I noticed that one of them had an ear turned towards us. I pulled myself a little tighter. “Listen to me,” said Homeguard. “If I am to remain in Delta, then its inhabitants must not know of my true identity. If they were to know that I depend on blood to survive, their reaction would be… unpleasant.” “Oh,” I said, nodding. “I see.” Then I noticed something strange about his wording. “How many times have you tried telling them?” “I- have experience in these matters,” said Homeguard. “I have heard stories from others, and it is always the same. We must. Not. Be known.” “Alright, alright,” I said quickly. I took a bite of wonton. “So now what?” “I do not know,” admitted Homeguard. “I have never done this before. You must not reveal my identity or Hailey’s-” “I won’t.” “-but beyond that…” Homeguard flicked his ears and shrugged. “I can think of nothing that must be done.” “So, what,” I said, “we’ll just- keep quiet about this? Not say anything about it unless something comes up? …That’s… not sarcasm, by the way. I’ve no clue.” “Depending on how the dice fall,” said Homeguard, “that might be necessary. I shall find you if it, as you put it, something comes up.” “Which would probably be bad.” I toasted with a cheese wonton. “So here’s to never saying a word about this day again.” Homeguard smiled. “Indeed.” I wolfed down the wonton. Once I’d swallowed, I said, “So now that I’ve said that, what do you bet that something’ll come up tomorrow?” “Quite a bit. Tempting fate never ends well.”