The library’s back room was deathly silent, save for the slow crawl of parchment over wood. The scroll was longer than I remembered—whether that be because of my nerves or just not giving it a good enough look back at Ivory’s hut, I couldn’t be certain. Not hovering was hard. Fighting back the urge to pace wasn’t any easier. Only repeatedly telling myself that doing either would be detrimental to Twilight’s concentration allowed me to barely remain still.
There was a little detail Ivory had mentioned that was boring itself deep into the back of my mind: that the spells were complicated enough that I might need multiple unicorns. Of course, I had confidence in Twilight, that she was the most powerful in her field. The caveat there was that even the best have an upper limit. One pegasus can’t very well quell a raging storm on her own. And being a non-unicorn, my ability to judge magical prowess versus spell requirements was more than a little limited. I had little doubt that Merri and Star would help as necessary, but there was one thought that sat high above the others. What if I’ve drastically misjudged the situation?
If we needed more unicorns, I had no idea where I could get more that I trusted. While there was Terra, I was very reluctant to put her directly in harm’s way. Even if we didn’t need anyone else, every bit of magic my friends had to put into the spells meant less magic they could draw on to protect themselves. If these spells were especially draining, they were at greater risk than I initially thought.
That was why I needed to know every little detail: if my plan got everyone killed again, I couldn’t bear it.
Twilight looked up and I met her gaze, hopeful.
“How’s it look?” I asked.
“Complicated. But some of that comes from the old style of spell composition. If I make adjustments to the flux of the planar binding, then I should be able to manage this on my own.” Twilight pondered a moment. “Who wrote this, anyway?”
I paused for a second, wondering how much I should say. The notion was a little ridiculous, for Twilight was probably one of the few people I could trust to be impartial in judging people for being non-mainstream. “My friend, Ivory. You probably haven’t heard of her, though. She lives far away and doesn’t really have access to modern academia.”
“I see.” Twilight looked at the scroll again for a moment. “I’m surprised. Some of this material is the kind I’d expect to see from a scholar with access to the restricted sections of the Canterlot Archives.”
“Yeah, um…” I scuffed a hoof. “Well, let’s just say she’s got a knack for that kind of thing.”
Tilting her head a little, concern spread across Twilight’s face. It disappeared as quickly as it came. “I trust your judgment Dusky. Which makes me even more curious.”
“When we have more time, I promise.”
My ears shot up as the creak of the library door opening reached me. Springing to my hooves, I slid over to the wall shared by this room and the main room. There was only one absent person who had a key at this point, but this was a situation where I couldn’t be too careful.
“I-I, um…” Night’s voice wavered in just the right way that I could hear the colour filling his cheeks. “... found a filly who fell upon a fuchsia futon.”
A small smirk formed on my lips. I felt a bit bad, but we’d needed something distinct fast and the foal’s section just happened to be closest at the time. Stepping out slowly, just to be certain, I waved a hoof at Night, Mint, Merri and Star. “Welcome back.”
Night turned a sheepish smile my way. “Thanks.”
“Now that we are in private,” Star glanced around, “what are we fighting?”
“Er, well, it’s something rather unusual: a banshee,” I said, fully aware that, were I not talking to my friends, I would have sounded insane.
Star blinked. “I… beg your pardon?”
“She said a banshee. Geez, Sis’, pay attention.” Merri poked a forehoof into Star’s side, eliciting a glare.
“I know that.” Star’s horn glowed, pushing Merri’s hoof away. “That is just not something I expected to hear in Equestria. Vengeful spirits are a very Ostfriesen problem. Are you sure your bloodline does not extend back to our people, Dusky?”
Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but smirk, if only a little. “I have no idea. I also have no idea if that would be more or less helpful. Perhaps I can ask my mom when this is all over, but for now, we should focus.”
“So, what’s the plan, then?” Mint eagerly stepped forward. I hesitated for a second, taken aback by her enthusiasm, despite my own—or perhaps because of it. With my friends here and the end in sight, I felt bold, like I could take on anything, and finally put an end to this. It was a dangerous thought, to be so ready to fight and snuff someone out. It unsettled me to the core, the remnants of my twisted safe house dream lingering at the back of my mind.
Just like me.
I shook it off, forcing myself to focus. “As far as tactics go, it’s pretty simple: we corner the banshee and defeat her. On the magical side, well, I’ll let Twilight explain that.”
“First, I’ll have to construct a parallel artificial plane, then apply a planar summoning to allow and the banshee to materialize in that realm. Following that, I’ll have to apply several essence-binding enchantments to the plane, which will bind you and the banshee.” Twilight’s gestures became less and less coherent as she tried to illustrate the links and layers and… whatever else she was talking about.
Star nodded along the entire time, but the others were left staring dumbly ahead—Merri less so than Night or Mint, but I still had a feeling this stuff wasn’t exactly her field of expertise. I tapped Twilight on the shoulder. “Uh, Twilight, as much as I enjoy hearing the details, perhaps they could wait until we’re in a less dangerous situation?”
“Oh! Right, of course!” Twilight cleared her throat. “The short version is I’m building a small, temporary area for me to trap the banshee. The rest will be up to you, since maintaining so many spells at once will take all my concentration.”
“Clever.” Star gave Twilight a look of unusual excitement. “How will we signal you when we are finished?”
“I’ll be able to monitor the battle, since I’ll need to bind myself to it in order to do all this. However, my binding will only be partial, so I won’t be able to interact with anything.” Twilight’s hooves were picking up momentum again, but abruptly stopped as something hit her. “Oh, and I’ll need someone to keep any distractions away. If the spells break and the bindings come undone incorrectly, it could cause catastrophic damage to our spirits. This includes the banshee, but given what you’ve told me, I don’t think she’ll be too concerned about that.”
My blood froze. “I… this is really dangerous. Is everyone sure about this?”
Merri was the first to move, letting out a short laugh as she wrapped a hoof around my withers. “You’re really asking this after what happened in The Forge?”
I mustered the barest bit of a smile. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“I agree,” Star said. “Aside from the fact that we owe you, it would not be right to abandon a friend.”
“And I knew what I was getting into when I proposed,” added Night. “I’m staying.”
“Proposed already~?” Merri’s grin threatened to consume her ears. “Night, you casanova~.”
“Sister, not right now.”
Mint cleared her throat. “If my baby brother decided you’re family, then guess what? I’m protecting my family.”
Twilight flashed me a grin. “Now this feels more than a little familiar. As Dash would say, no way am I going to leave you hanging.”
“Thanks, everyone.” I felt a bit of dampness forming at the corners of my eyes. “I guess we should get back to the plan. This won’t be an easy fight, but I think our best bet is to end things as quickly as possible. To that end, I want to outnumber her as much as we dare without putting Twilight in undue danger.”
“I shall stay, then,” Star said. “The rest of you go to the parallel plane.”
“By yourself? Are you sure?” I glanced between Star and Twilight.
“Do not worry about me. We are in the heart of the most guarded part of Equestria, with a plan the enemy will have little time to react to.” A wicked grin spread across Star’s face. “Plus, I know a glyph or two that such hooligans will find to be a rather nasty surprise, should they think they can overwhelm me.”
Twilight nodded. “If that’s the case, I have no objections.”
“Right.” I took a deep breath. “What’s our first step?”
“Come to the back. I’ll need about an hour for the first component, but you’ll have to stand in the circle.”
---
My entire world was white—not that I had eyes to see it with. The whole experience was bizarre, like I’d been disassembled and packed into a box. But there was no pain. In fact, there was no feeling at all, not even numbness. I just wasn’t. And then I was again.
As my existence resumed, I found myself standing on a shimmering purple floor. It extended in all directions as far as I could see, motes of purple bleeding off the surface, seemingly at random. Above was a dome of a similar colour, its clouded walls slowly swirling like a brewing storm.
Night winked into existence beside me. For a moment, he looked startled, almost frantic, but as our eyes met, his stance grew firmer. “Th-that was…”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to describe it, either.”
“Whoa!” Mint was suddenly standing in front of us. She gave her whole body a shake. “Okay! Everything’s still there. That’s good.”
Finally, Merri appeared, a contemplative look on her face, though one that seemed almost entirely unconcerned with her journey. “Huh. So, that’s what Sis’ meant.”
“Meant about what?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, just some of Sis’s magic theory mumbo jumbo.” Merri grinned. “I’ve always been more of a hooves on learner~.”
“If you say so.” I felt a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. “Now that we’re all here, we’ve got a job to do.”
“How?” Night glanced all around us. “There’s nothing for miles.”
Mint shrugged. “I bet if we start walking, make a little noise, Summer Leaf’s bound to find us.”
I followed Night’s gaze. “Yeah, that’s probably our best—maybe even only—option. Stay on your guard.”
And so we began, four little blots intermingled with some kind of unending light show. After a few minutes, something appeared on the horizon. It was another purple light, though much bigger than any of the errant motes. Though there was no breeze, it swayed and flickered like a flame on a windy day.
Exchanging a couple glances, we pushed ahead. Time passed more slowly, getting bogged down in nerves, but we soon found the source of the flame: a low brazier, made of the same purple light shards as the floor. Another minute and we could see a figure within the flame: Twilight. She floated right in the middle, as though it were the most natural thing to do, eyes closed in concentration.
“That’s… weird.” I said. “Though, I suppose not much weirder than the whole concept of wandering off into an alternate dimension to kill a ghost.”
“I think she’s trying to keep things simple.” Merri let out a chuckle. “This whole place is imaginary. It could look like whatever she wanted. Fancier means more places to hide. But, looks like she couldn’t resist a little symbolism~.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but a glint up in the sky caught my attention. It approached with meteoric speed, reaching Twilight almost before I realized it was there. The cold steel of a blade, led the way for a green blur as it sought to cleave Twilight in two. In a way, she succeeded: both flame and unicorn parting like water, returning to exact position once her assailant had passed. As Summer Leaf turned her gaze toward us, she flipped her head, impaling her long machete into the floor, cutting through the hardened light as though it were paper.
“So she’s not as stupid as she looks.” The large earth pony spat before turning a deathly glare upon me. “But she’ll get hers once I’m done with you.”
I shook my head. “Aren’t you tired of this?”
Her expression didn’t change. “No shit. Which is why this is the day I end you.”
“And then what? Keep killing until the world drowns in blood?”
“If that’s what it takes to put our enemies in their place.” After a moment, she started laughing. It was hollow, bitter, almost insane. “Don’t give me that look. You know what it’s like to leave bodies in your wake to get what you want.”
I gritted my teeth. “It’s not because I want to. I only do it to protect those closest to me.”
“Just like we help ours.” Summer Leaf grinned wickedly. “Only difference is we’re on opposing sides.”
Merri let out a loud, echoing snort—half laughter, half derision. “As if. Last I checked, Dusky doesn’t go out and terrorize ponies for fun and profit.”
“Yeah! You’re nothing but a common bully!” Mint almost growled, cracking her forehooves. “And I hate bullies.”
“Comparing Dusky to a monster like you?” There was a seething edge to Night’s voice, giving me the odd impression he might be even more offended than me. “Could you be any more wrong?”
“Bully? Monster? Get out of your ivory tower, you judgmental little shits.” Summer Leaf tossed her head. “You think you’re the only ones who care about anything?”
“I understand if you hate me.” I tilted my head. “But I wonder, what about those you’ve wronged in turn?”
Summer Leaf waved her hoof as though she were batting a fly away. “Bah, too bad for them. If they were smart, they would have chosen the winning team.”
Casting a sideways glance at my allies, I narrow my eyes. “Then I could say the same about Autumn Leaf.”
“You!” Summer Leaf was already flying through the air, machete glinting in her mouth. For just a moment, I worried that I’d miscalculated, but I backstepped just in time to avoid having my skull split in two.
I brought my wingblade up, aimed straight at her throat. But she already had her own blade in the way, parrying each of my strikes. My friends moved in to surround her, but as they did, she became a blur, a paradoxical barrier of herself that never let a hoof in. I pressed her again—this kind of defense should be impossible to keep up, if only we could pressure her a little more.
But again and again, she repelled her assault. And I began to worry that it would be us who tired first.
“Dusky! Now!” Mint shouted as she threw her whole body into what had become an ethereal green ball. Even though Mint seemed to merely deflect off of it, I lunged, slashing at my best guess of where Summer Leaf’s neck would be—to no avail. Opposite to me, Night found about as much success.
That was when I realized that Merri was no longer part of our assault: she’d taken a couple steps back, and turned as though she were ready to circle. There was just a brief moment where Summer Leaf, finding nothing to block, became a coherent shape again.
Merri’s crossbow hovered up from behind her flank. Twang!
The screech that followed was utterly alien, a chill howl that passed under my skin and rattled my innards. But the bolt had found Summer Leaf’s chest. I couldn’t waste the opportunity. Still shaking from the banshee’s cry, I leapt forward, my blade pointed straight at her throat. But by the time I’d reached her, she was, what I can only describe as, melting. Steel passed straight through. And as Merri’s bolt clattered to the ground, Summer Leaf was gone.
“Don’t let your guard down!” I spun, keeping an eye on the air above us.
“Call her out if you see her!” Mint added.
“R-right!” Night answered.
When Merri didn’t reply, I turned back to her. She seemed off-balance, like she’d been hit. But there was no blood and no Summer Leaf in sight. “Merri! You okay?”
“Yeah. Something just threw me. That’s all.” Merri shook her head. “I’m fine now.”
“What’s wrong?” Summer Leaf’s voice echoed, coming from every direction at once. “Afraid of the dark?”
“Seems to me you’re the one who’s afraid!” Mint retorted.
“Really? When you’re always worrying about losing me?” a deep stallion’s voice called out. Mint’s eyes widened a little as she took a step back. But her stance quickly became resolute again.
“Even you, Merriweather.” Star’s voice was next. “You hide behind ridiculousness because you can’t bear to think about it.”
Before Star’s voice could finish echoing, Night’s added, “It’s why you told me not to be a hero. You’re afraid of everyone dying around you.”
“That’s why you’ll throw yourself away,” said a voice that sounded far too much like mine. “Everypony is worth more than you!”
“Trying a little too hard, are we?” Merri called back.
“Get on with it!” Mint deepened her stance, beckoning to the empty air.
“Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.” “Fine.”
I whirled, just in time to deflect Night’s blow. I gritted my teeth. It’s not Night. This is not Night. This is not Night.
Even so, I found myself instinctively pulling my strikes. Thankfully, the training worked both ways and I had no issues deflecting his seemingly endless stream of wing and hoove blows.
I waited patiently, looking for an opening. And when he raised his wing, I came in fast, ramming my head into his ribs, then backstepping before he could clip me. Or so I thought. I reeled, pain spreading up my own side from his traded blow.
Falling back a little, I chastised myself for getting sloppy. I began to push his blows aside more forcefully, looking for a chance to throw him completely off balance.
“Ah!” Merri’s voice echoed. I wanted to look, but knew better than to let my eyes wander from my opponent. I needed to find a decisive blow more than ever. But before I could do anything rash, Merri called out again, “Pace yourself! She has some kind of thorn magic!”
Thorn? It took a moment before the implications fully hit me. Suddenly, everything became that much clearer. This was surely a way to prevent fatal blows, whether a follow up or disrupting the final stroke itself. If we couldn’t kill her, then our loss through attrition was inevitable.
Think, Dusky! You can’t block forever!
Falling back more and more didn’t seem to be working. Despite the gratuitous amount of energy involved in closing the distance and raining down blows, he didn’t seem to be slowing down. There was no outpacing him.
Retreating one more time, I just about tripped over myself, instead sloppily rolling away from the barrage. Then it hit me: perhaps there was a loophole I could abuse.
As Not Night came in again, I stepped in close, slipping a rear hoof behind his and ramming into his side. A dull pain rolled across my own ribs and I staggered away, bracing myself. But as Not Night crashed to the ground, tumbling across the purple light, I felt nothing.
I had a goal now as I closed in. He leapt to his hooves, charging at me once more. The opportunity came sooner than expected: the third of a barrage went high, overextending. Stepping right up against him, I got as low as possible, then threw my body up, taking care not to push against any tender spots.
With a loud cry, Not Night tumbled over my back, crashing face first into the ground behind me. Seizing the moment, I darted forward, pinning him with my forehooves and bringing my wingblade down across his throat. I almost hesitated. That look of fear. On his face. Not his face!
“Dus… ky… wh…”
“You’re not him. You’re not him!” I screamed. “You’re an insult to him!”
Even as Not Night faded into a ghost-like mist that quickly vanished entirely, the visage stuck with me. I felt sick. Between the pain in my own throat and the reflexive boulder in my stomach, I could have puked for a week. This whole thing was sick.
But I didn’t have time for that. My friends were still at risk. Clenching my teeth, I pushed through, letting some of my anger drive me, focus me on finishing off Summer Leaf.
Merri was also already alone, and looking a bit better than me. I suspected it might have had something to do with the pale silver orb that encased her. She was headed to my left, where Mint was battling a stallion whose green coat was just a touch lighter than hers. I almost wanted to join her, to charge in, but there was still someone missing.
I turned, looking for Night—for the real Night. Instead, I came face to face with myself, before she crashed straight into me. We tumbled end over end, half-flailed punches coming out each time one of us found solid ground. Most of them missed, which was probably for the best.
We were an inelegant tangle that I’m certain must have looked like some kind of abomination with two sets of the same mare protruding from all the wrong places. This also presented the problem of our range. I couldn’t keep her at hoof’s length, but I couldn’t completely stop defending myself, which quickly devolved into feeling sore in every inch of my body. Thankfully, she seemed intent on rather roughly matching my intensity. Otherwise, I might have just passed out then and there.
As we spun again, I caught Night, out of the corner of my eye, standing there, lost as he stared at us. “W-who... who do I help?”
“It’s… me, Night!” called the fake Dusky.
“She’s lying!” I didn’t know why I tried to gainsay it. It was a waste of energy when they couldn’t tell us apart. I suppose by that point, the adrenaline, the instinct, it was too much to resist.
Fake me’s wingblade came half an inch away from taking a chunk out of my muzzle.
“Hit her, Night!” Mint shouted.
“Which?” Night's voice shook, with him on the verge of tears.
“Both!”
“What?! Are you crazy?!” Those were definitely tears.
“Damnit, Night! Merri, follow my lead!”
A burst of red sent me and the fake Dusky flying apart, with the aura barely holding her at bay. At the same time, Mint hit me, tossing me over her much like I’d done to Not Night. I gasped as I slammed into the floor, all air escaping.
Unceremoniously, Mint wound up her foreleg, laying a hard kick straight into my flank.
“G-gah! M… Mint!” I screamed.
And with that, she was barreling off. The fake me had nearly wriggled free of Merri’s magic when Mint slammed straight into her. I knew I had to seize the opportunity, but damn if I didn’t feel like I’d just been picked up and shaken out like a throw rug. As I tried to steady my vision long enough to get upright, Night appeared over me.
“S-sorry…” he said.
“For what? Know what, never mind. We’ll worry about it after,” I said as I got my hooves underneath me. I stood quickly—perhaps a bit too quickly. My legs wobbled as I tried to make my way over to the other me, where Mint had her pinned. Thankfully, Night obliged by helping brace me, though I thought I caught a bit of red streaming down his leg.
At last, our limping got us over to what was presumably Summer Leaf. Standing there, looking down at the me who was not me, I realized, darkly, that I was about to slit my own throat and live to tell the tale.
Under all the blood and gurgling, the form shifted, becoming Summer Leaf, eyes filled with hate even then. Like with Not Night, she began to disintegrate, though this mist was thicker, tinted a greenish grey. It fled toward the ceiling, shedding bits of fading mist as it went, until there was nothing left.
I turned away and promptly lost my lunch. It was all I could do to stagger back to collapse in a place that was not sticky and gross.
“Did we… did we get it?” Mint limped over, keeping an eye out as she glanced down at me. Now that things weren’t so frantic, I could see that her left cheek had a nice, big, swollen bump in the middle of it.
“Its magic is gone now,” Merri said as she appeared beside Mint. Aside from a mane that looked like it had had a couple dozen balloons rubbed against, she didn’t look too bad off. “It’d be pretty hard to come back from that.”
“Then… we did it. We did it, Dusky.” Night collapsed beside me, feebly reaching up a forehoof to give me as much of a hug as he could muster.
“So it seems.” I smiled weakly, leaning against him with little more energy. “Let’s go home.”