III: Fear
Something’s found me.
Twilight could not process any other thought besides that. It wasn’t the wind. No, it couldn’t have been. Somepony had taken the handle, and pulled the door open. The accompanying hoofsteps made her realize that there was somepony else there, right behind her. Friendly? Hostile? Perhaps neither?
Whatever the case, she had been discovered. If what was written in the note was true… then who could possibly be there, looking for her? And how is it that she couldn’t hear them coming beforehand?
…And what was that smell?
“Grrrrraaaaaagh…”
Oh no. No no no no no. Twilight stood rigid, her features frozen with fearful agony. There was an odd, all-encompassing sensation of weakness that swept over her body as she began to imagine what could have possibly made that horrid growl. Slowly, she turned her neck around to look at what was behind her.
An open door. And nothing more.
She stood there with bated breath, staring at the dark and empty entryway. Nothing was there. Nopony. But how could this be? She could see nothing, and yet, the door opened by some mysterious force. It couldn’t possibly be the wind again, could it? No, she distinctly heard hoofsteps! Something had to be there!
…And darn it, the stench was still present! Ugh, it smelled like somepony hadn’t showered in ages! It lingered in the air, mixing with the already damp and soggy climate of the room. It was almost as rank-smelling as that fleshy stuff (but not quite).
Twilight, bewildered as she was, didn’t budge from her spot. Since turning to look behind her, everything had become oddly silent. The odd snarl that she heard seemed to come from the door’s direction, but there was nopony that could have made that noise…
…Or at least, nopony that she could see.
I can’t see anything… but… can it see… me?
Another low growling was the reply to her thoughts, and she shuddered with apprehension. What kind of pony just growls like that?! Either he or she has a major attitude problem, or… something else is up…
…From her field of view, she could see a dark shape moving in the corridor beyond the doorway. The hoofsteps returned, as did more growling noises.
Hide.
The single thought occurred to Twilight almost as an afterthought. It wasn’t until the gravity of the situation fell upon her that she realized she was in deep trouble.
Hide! …HIDE! Quick!!
Her mind screamed at her to run and hide, but she could not. Dread filled her mind, and with it came images that self-predicted what fate awaited her. And none of them were very happy, to say the least. Her hooves almost seemed rooted to the floor, and her body was paralyzed with fear.
No, no! Move, darn you! HIDE!!
Twilight gave her head a fierce shake, and, with a slight stumble, she rushed to the darkest corner of the room, opposite the hole in the ceiling. Her hooves clattered on the stone floor, making a fair bit of noise, but she didn’t care. The unicorn almost crashed into something large and wooden on the way, and when she saw what it was—a closet—she had an idea.
Nopony ever checks the closet!
Pulling on one of the doors on the freestanding closet open (thank the goddesses that it wasn’t locked), Twilight leapt inside and was greeted by a face-full of unwashed linens. Shoving them aside to make room for herself, she grabbed the inside of the closet door and gently closed it shut.
The mare let out a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. Was she finally safe? She pressed her ear against the wall of the closet to try and listen to what was going on outside…
Clop… clop… clop…
Hoofsteps. Somepony was in the room now. If Twilight had stayed still much longer…
Clop… clop… …
Here, the steps seemed to stop. More of that guttural snarling and growling was audible for a minute. What could possibly be out there? Twilight dared not sneak a peek; it would be too dangerous.
CLANG!
Twilight nearly slammed her head on the roof of the closet, having jumped at the sudden, jarring racket. A cry of fear nearly escaped her mouth, but she was able to stifle it. It was something metal, as if it were being tossed to the floor… Ah! The lantern! She forgot about the lantern! And the note, too…!
“Bleeeearrrgh…”
Why did that groan sound so close by?
Clop… clop… clop…
Why were the hoofsteps getting louder?
Clop… clop… clop…
“No…” Twilight whispered to herself, her heart pounding faster and faster. It… it found her! It knew she was there!
Clop… clop… … … …
The hoofsteps suddenly stopped, and they were extremely close by when they did. Copious amounts of sweat started running down her forehead, but she made no motion to wipe it off. Twilight couldn’t move. The combined feeling of a racing pulse, horribly sick feeling in her gut, and the return of her headache all manifested in a single, primal sensation.
She was experiencing pure terror.
Please don’t find me… Please don’t find me…!
A creak. The door was starting to open. Twilight jerked back, pressing herself against the back wall of the closet. A tiny stream of the outside light was starting to peek in…
Dead. She was dead. Whatever was out there was looking for her, and it wanted her dead. Twilight tried to find solace in her ‘happy place’, but found that she could not as she possessed no memories of such a place. As the amnesiac unicorn came to realize, she was well and truly alone in this strange-yet-so-familiar castle.
The closet door opened wider, and Twilight held her breath. She could smell it again! And by the goddesses, it reeked! Sweat, grime, and bile, all rolled up into one! Clenching her eyes tightly, she prayed over and over again that it would stop and leave her alone…
“Urrraaaarghh…”
It was so close now. The growling was so close. It was almost right in her ear. And the smell was terrible. She just wanted it all to end. Why won’t it listen? Why did it want to find her? She couldn’t understand. Her head ached so much. Twilight waited for it all to end…
…and waited…
…and waited…
…and waited, and… hang on, why wasn’t she dead yet? Or rather, what the heck was taking so long? Twilight let one eye crack open to see what was going on. The closet door was open by almost a full half-hoof… but there was nopony there.
Twilight opened both eyes fully, and ventured a glance out into the room from the partially open closet. It was completely empty. The doorway leading outside was still open, and there was not a shadow to be seen in the corridor beyond. She strained her ears to try and pick up any sounds, but none reached them.
Still trembling with anxiety, she gently pushed the door of the closet open and stuck a hoof out onto the floor. Twilight paused, anticipating any sounds (for all she knew, it might have been trying to lure her out), and placed her other hoof out of the closet. Halfway there.
With agonizingly slow pace, Twilight abandoned the safety of her closet—her only hiding place that was nearly compromised—and found herself planting all four hooves on the stony floor. As she looked the room over again, the mare concluded that it was well and truly empty.
…And she then fell to the floor with her forelegs crossed over her face as she sobbed and cried.
“Why… is this happening… to me?” she asked herself pointlessly in-between choked sobs. “I… I’m so scared… I can’t remember any of my friends… or anything like that… What am I doing here? This… is so… stupid!”
Twilight continued to snivel and moan for many minutes. The thought of being backed into a corner by somepony—something—that she didn’t even see… it was just too terrifying to endure again. Why was she stuck here? Why can’t she just leave this horrible, horrible place?
She finally looked up, dried tears still staining her muzzle, and immediately noticed the still-lit lantern directly in front of her, on its side. Of course, the pony (she sure hoped it was just a pony) had apparently knocked it down earlier, though it certainly leads one to wonder why.
It was odd; as Twilight looked at the lantern, letting it casting its weak light over her, her fears seemed to… go away. She slowly got back on her hooves, and set the lantern back upright. The flame got a little brighter, and thus Twilight felt a little bit better as the horrors from earlier were gradually let loose from her mentality.
She bent over to pick the up lantern’s handle with her teeth, and hoisted it aloft as high as she could manage. The warm, green glow illuminated nearly a full circle around the unicorn, radiating its energy all around her. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the familiar glint of the crystals on the table, though a few of them were now scattered on the floor.
Twilight trotted back to the table to examine the crystals, and then realized that the note was still there. That note, her only real “connection” to her past self, at this point. She looked over the contents again, making sure to now fully take in the implications. As she reread the note over and over, she began to piece together some patterns.
In its most distilled form, the note was asking her to take a pony’s life, and at the same time, save other lives.
What this rather nasty-sounding individual, this "Alack Zander" had done... it seemed quite terrible. Capture and possibly torture her friends? Banish the princesses? Willingly bring harm to others? Just what kind of pony is this? Twilight could think of no other proper word to describe him except for “horrible”. Perhaps her “former self” was right. Maybe he did deserve to die.
And her friends, they… were in danger, it seemed. Zander may have already ‘dealt’ with them by now, however. But… was it really too late? Would she really put her own tail on the line to save them? Even though she still has no memory of whom they are? How close friends were they, anyhow? Would it be worth the effort it expends...?
“Never lose faith in your friends. They are an amazing source of strength, and can even help you overcome your greatest fears…”
Twilight caught herself, and blinked. Did she just say that? Where did that come from? It was rather peculiar; as soon as she thought about the prospect of her having friends, the words just…came out of nowhere. Was she remembering stuff again?
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. This was all so much to consider, so much to contemplate. What else could she do? Twilight remembered those words she spoke earlier, and spent a moment in deep thought. She absent-mindedly turned the note over… and found that there was something written on the back.
‘SHADOWS DON’T HAVE HEARTS’
…Huh? It looked as if somepony had scrawled down the message in ten seconds flat. That and they didn’t care much for penmareship. But what did it mean? The hoofwriting bore almost no resemblance to what was printed on the other side, so perhaps somepony else wrote it. But who? And for that matter, why?
Ugh, these constant questions are making my head hurt…
Twilight looked up from the table, turning an ear towards the door for any hoofsteps or other noises. She heard none, so she looked back down at the cryptic note. At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice what looked like a pair of leather bags attached to some kind of saddle under the table. It looked like somepony had just blindly shoved it under there; Twilight just didn't notice it until now. An idea materialized in her otherwise vacant mind. “Hey…”
She set down the lantern again, and made a grab for the saddlebags. Though it was tricky to throw the bags over her back and fasten them securely, Twilight soon wore a rather old and tattered pair of saddlebags atop her back. Oh well, these will have to do. At least I won’t need to carry everything in my mouth.
Figuring it would be handy to keep around, Twilight picked up the note with her mouth and gently slipped it inside one of the bags. At the same time, she noticed that the red crystals would likely serve some kind of use, recalling the minor detail of the lantern’s “fuel” in the earlier flashback she had, and stuffed those in the bag as well.
The unicorn also took note of a small blue bottle off to the edge of the table, filled with a viscous green fluid. Curious, Twilight stooped down to look at the label: 'Laurenum.' She wasn't sure what it was, honestly. She'd never seen or heard of such a chemical before. The universal sign of healing, the Red Cross, was present just below the name, so it had to have had medicinal properties. Into the bag it went.
Satisfied, she picked up the Dragonfire Lantern and turned to leave the room. Here, she hesitated. Was whatever that was in here still roaming about? Twilight listened, but heard nothing. It was still dark out in the hallway, but at least she had the lantern. It would keep everything nice and lit (even if the slightly odd green color of the light was a bit unusual compared to the normal orange/yellow light of a torch).
Whatever’s out there… well, at least I can see if something happens…
Twilight took a deep breath (through her nostrils, as her mouth was occupied with the lantern), and released it. Feeling slightly calmer, she trotted back outside into the dark corridor. The darkness was instantly cast aside by the vibrant green light of the dragonfire in the lantern, and the hall became brighter all around her.
As she was now back in the hallway, what was there to do? Should she go back to the Entrance Hall, and forget about this place? Or should she finish what she started, and explore the rest of the Old Archives? Every other room up until this point was empty, so maybe the same would be true for the rest of the area. But then again… there might be something of important value somewhere. Another clue to who she was, perhaps? Or who her friends were? Or to just figure what went on here?
Eventually, her curiosity won out. It didn’t seem like there was any sign of that growling thing from earlier, so Twilight decided to take the bravery approach. She turned to the left, and began slowly—carefully—trotting down the corridor, with the brass lantern gripped tightly by her teeth.
As she walked, Twilight pondered the emotions she felt as she was trapped in the closet. Just what is “fear”? Perhaps it involves but a simple dread of those things that bother you most? Others may debate that a fear of something requires a lot of running and screaming for when that ‘something’ decides to make an appearance. But what is true fear? Is it something primal? Is the need to feel afraid simply hard-wired into our minds, as a basic survival instinct?
Whatever the meaning and cause of fear may be, it is truly a powerful emotion. But for Twilight, what she felt was worse than fear. Loneliness. She felt so alone. There would be no one there to help her if something went wrong… and it already almost did. No one could comfort her, or even care what happened to her. It seemed at this point, that her greatest fear... was simply being alone. She shuddered with nervous energy, and bit down harder on the lantern’s handle. The metallic taste in her mouth suddenly seemed much less ignorable.
The unicorn pressed onwards, following the hallways after numerous turns and passing more doors (all of which were either sealed or led to empty rooms). When the hallway finally ended—at another doorway, no less—she discovered, to her frustration, that it was locked. Darn.
Feeling disappointed and a little bit cheated, Twilight turned to walk back the way she came… until she noticed that a doorway to her right was open slightly. Cautiously, she approached the door and gently pulled it open with a hoof.
Unlike the others, this room was full of stuff. As she brought the lantern to bear, the majority of contents in this somewhat small room were revealed to be: Bookcases. A lot of bookcases, all lined with extremely old-looking tomes and volumes. She spared them a passing glance, not really interested in a bunch of dusty old books. A peculiar longing to read and study them poked at her brain, but she shook it off.
Twilight focused her attention on the table off to the side of the room. An old-looking piece of parchment lay on it. Another note, of some kind. Maybe there was more information on her, or her friends? She walked over to the table, set down her lantern, and started to read it.
16th of May, 994
Celestia has been most humble in welcoming me into her castle. I must admit, I’ve been around Equestria and beyond, and I’ve never quite seen a castle like this. The elegantly-designed curves and shapes of the castle structure never cease to amaze me. She tells me that the very form of the castle is maintained by her magic, as it was what made it in the first place. I presume all the Earth Pony stonework, combined with Unicorn magic, can create structures more fantastic than any other. It would make sense, considering that Canterlot is built into a mountainside. Any other rudimentary construction would likely fail to gravity within days.
She has been a good host; showing me around the castle and its grounds, having her chefs prepare me meals of the finest quality, and even offering to let me stay in a guest bedroom nearly the size of a common pony’s house. I’m well aware of my high standing with the Canterlot Royal Court, but even this seems a little much. The Princess is extremely generous and kind… and I’m quite grateful.
Today, I took a walk through the castle archives. The amount of literature stored down here is simply amazing; every other room I enter is filled with books, tomes, scrolls, and countless more. I really could use a good studying break when I have the time. On that note, while I was down there, I happened to notice the princess speaking with a small unicorn filly in one of the storage rooms. I did not hear very much what it was they were talking about, but I presume from the context that the filly was the ‘prodigy’ I’ve heard Celestia go on about. Apparently, the princess took her in as a personal student. I’d really like to meet her someday.
Twilight read the note over once again, and scrunched her muzzle in confusion. What was this? It looked like a journal entry of some kind; the edge appeared as if it had been torn out of a book. And judging from all the dust, it was really old. That and the fact that the entry alludes to a “full” archive while there’s barely anything left in there besides this one room.
Sighing, the unicorn haphazardly picked up the parchment and stuffed it rather carelessly into one of her saddlebags. There was nothing else of interest besides the books, which Twilight cared not about, so she walked rather glumly out of the room.
There were many things on Twilight’s mind as she trotted back down the corridor, lantern hanging from her mouth and saddlebags mounted over her back. What was a mare to do? How would she save her friends? And how was she supposed to kill somepony? It’s not like she was fully capable of ponycide with her bare hooves… and she doubted a lantern is much use as a battering weapon…
…And what about that thing that she was nearly discovered by? She didn’t get to see it, but she could sure as hay smell it. A rank, putrid odor that stank of dirt, sweat… and bile. She nearly retched at the recall of the odor. Somepony would have to not have a shower since they were born to smell like that! Or at least, would have to be dragged through a sewage pipe! If the smell was terrible, just think of what he or she even looked like…
Regardless of whom or what that pony (or thing) was, Twilight had a job to do. She didn’t like it, but there was no other way out of the situation. Her friends would have put faith in her. And what good would it do if she let them down? Plus, whatever scheme that this ‘Zander’ pony had thought of sounded like it would be big trouble. She had to put a stop to it… whatever it was he had planned.
Even so, Twilight furtively hoped that she needn’t kill him.
After finally making it back to the door that she first entered the archives from, Twilight gave the door a push, to which it mercifully swung open. Before she knew it, she was back in the uneasy peace of the Entrance Hall. She slammed the door shut behind her with her hind hoof, and shut off the lantern since the light already present in the room rendered it unnecessary.
As Twilight placed the Dragonfire Lantern in the other, empty saddlebag (so as not to damage the papers stored in the other), she looked around the hall to see if anything was different. It was basically as she left it; the main exit door to castle was blocked off by that tangled mass of flesh, the other doors across the room were shut, as they should have been, and the staircase was empty and ominous as…
…Wait. Who is that coming down the stairs…?
“P-please… help… me…”