//------------------------------// // Part Six // Story: Tavern Tactics // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// “Hollow Shades,” Stygian repeated. No one noticed that time either, not even Mistmane. Grunting, he moved right up to the edge of the table and stretched a hoof over to the spot. “Hollow Shades,” he said again, louder. “Oh! Your hometown?” said Somnambula, and Stygian for once thanked someone for fretting on his behalf. His hometown. Yes. He hadn’t said it. Someone else had. Mouth too tight to talk, he nodded, slowed by the weight of realization. “What makes you so sure?” said Star Swirl. “There’s a famous musical instrument there, sir!” Stygian blurted out. “One of the most famous of all! Goes back for thousands of years, sir!” “Needs a tune-up, then,” rumbled Rockhoof. Flash Magnus joined in when he guffawed. “No, sir,” insisted Stygian in his tired voice. “If it’s magical you want, then magical you’ll get.” Mistmane summoned the inkstand and other writing tools to drop them into the saddlebag, which flashed out of existence. “What do you mean, Stygian?” “The Organ of Light,” he said. He ignored the new wave of guffaws from the two stallions. The Organ of Light was above such pettiness. That story! Stygian had learned this one early, locked away in his tower with tutors. Occasionally, he’d left the tower long enough to blink out the sunlight, and then one day his evening walk had taken him a little way out of town, to an old well, and down the hidden tunnel – only the most esteemed unicorns were allowed inside – to see the Well of Shadows. Closing his eyes, he saw the endless rows of columns, the cavernous space where darkness itself pooled and flooded. The Equestrians had found it as a ruin, left over by whoever had lived in Hollow Shades long ago. No one ever had a good dream near the Well, though, so the town had been built some way away from it, leaving it as an eye in the middle of a circle of cottages. Even being there, Stygian had quailed at the carvings on the wall, and heard whispers trying to reach him from thousands of years ago. Everyone in Hollow Shades believed it was built to keep darkness contained. Not destroy it: darkness couldn’t be destroyed. But it could be safely put away where it would do no harm. And nopony was dumb enough to mess with it. Nopony could go in, unless they were trusted. What frightened Stygian most, however, was the gigantic organ kept inside. At first, it made no sense. The Well of Shadows was a cistern, meant for darkness to seep in and pool. Why would an organ be kept inside one? After many studies, though, and after examining its glowing pipes and its aural radiance and the mysterious carvings on the wall, Stygian went back to his tower and wrote a long treatise on the nature of darkness and light. The Organ of Light guarded the place. Darkness and shadows: they sent nightmares up to the surface. They’d send much worse misery, he concluded, if it wasn’t for the organ. Whether it was played or not, its sacred music overpowered the shadows, kept hearts glad, reminded ponies of good dreams and happy memories and art and love and the majesty of this world. It should never be removed, or destroyed, or drained of its power. To do so would be to unleash chaos. “If the sirens broke the Organ of Light…” he breathed, and his imagination smashed the rest over his head, and he fell silent. Star Swirl nodded, pulling his own beard as though to rip it off slowly and painfully. “The Organ of Light is one of a kind. I heard the citizens of Everfree built a replica for their own castle, but it didn’t work. Who knows what kind of power it contains?” After gulping her brandy, Meadowbrook hummed, worry creasing along her face. “What kinda power does it pack?” “Enough to control shadows and darkness,” quavered Mistmane. “Some say the Organ of Light holds back all the powers of Tartarus itself!” “Yes,” said Star Swirl, letting his beard go. “Canterlot and Everfree would stand no chance…” In the silence, the light outside dimmed. Stools shuffled back and the door squeaked and slammed. When Stygian checked, the bar was empty save for Ironsmith, who noticed him staring and slipped out. The bar-stallion got out and turned chairs upside-down, the clear but unspoken request for certain ponies to start making their way home, if they had any. He shuddered. “We’re sure?” said Flash Magnus. “I don’t want to go to this Hollow Shades place and find no one there.” “Where else can they go, Captain Magnus?” said Star Swirl. “They might be strong, but the sirens still need to stop and feed as they travel. So long as we eat on the hoof, we might be able to beat them in time. In addition, they remain vulnerable to magical attacks. It’s merely… luck, and speed, and second-guessing that’s kept us from taking them down. Now that the army’s converging on the capital cities… No, it makes sense now. The siren leader, she’s an adaptable one… She’s always had a fascination with music…” “Sir?” said Stygian. The sorcerer had a faraway look, and he himself knew that it could see for centuries. At least he’s listening to my ideas now, thought Stygian. However long it took to get the old windbag there. Now for the coup de grace. “But there is good news, sir…” he said again, having waited so long already. “I believe the sirens are not the only ones who can use the Organ of Light. We could harness its power too. If we stick together and use their own magic against them, and if we stand strong and united as one force, just like we did for the Jitterbug, sir, I believe we could feel its power. We could overpower the sirens long enough to smash their gemstones and destroy their… power… source…” No one was listening. They were all staring at the sorcerer. Stygian was too shocked to move. This was supposed to be his moment! He’d done what Somnambula would have done and thought things through! He’d used his learning like Mistmane, and planned tactics like Flash, and valued their strength like Rockhoof! He’d even been inspired by Meadowbrook! It was the perfect moment! He knew it was! The moment died. As did his outrage. As did his courage. A flash later, the map vanished from the table. Star Swirl rose from his chair like a rocket. “I say we go to the Well of Shadows!” he boomed. “At daybreak! Perhaps the sirens will attack the cities, but it’s possible we could double back and join the army soon enough to turn the tide. It would be risky, I will not lie, but an army is something that’ll slow down the sirens, especially now the regiments have learned their tricks.” Stygian watched as his perfect moment got commandeered by someone else. He didn’t even feel angry. Anger was too small for this. “But…?” prompted Mistmane gently. Star Swirl rolled his eyes as though an idiot had heckled him. “But, if they’re heading for this Organ of Light, then that changes things. They’d be free to suck dry one of the most powerful artefacts imaginable. After that, no force in Equestria could oppose them.” “It’s still a gamble, sah,” said Flash Magnus, who exchanged a worried glance with Somnambula. “And even if we did go there,” she added, “what would we do? Magical attacks have only achieved so much.” Star Swirl glared at the table; Stygian saw the struggle behind that glare, breaking through the surface as the muscles twitched and winced. Desperation worried that mouth, and anger fought its way through the eyes, and cold steel cut all expression out. The cold steel won. “It’s time,” Star Swirl said, and there was no feeling in his voice, no trace of the pony, and every trace of the sorcerer. “Nothing in this world can outmatch them. So why keep them here?” Mistmane rose off her stool so fast it clattered and hit Stygian in the hocks. “No,” she snapped. This time, Star Swirl did not back down. “Why not? The spell would rid Equestria of these monsters forever. They’d be locked away in the cursed place where no one would suffer on their account ever again.” “That spell has never been tried.” “The theory – my theory, Mistmane – is sound.” “It would tear through nature’s borders like a sword through flesh! Think of the damage it would do, to open up a wound like that!” “What damage!?” spat Star Swirl. “The damage that sends ponies mad with fear and hatred, the damage that flattens towns with rioting? That damage?” Meadowbrook shuddered. “Mistmane’s barkin’ up the right tree, Star Swirl. It’s unnatural.” Even Stygian leaned back to avoid the blade of that glare. Star Swirl rounded on Meadowbrook as though he’d drawn a sword on her. “Everything we do is unnatural!” he roared. “Look around you! If it wasn’t for Stygian, would a motley circus like you five have had anything to do with each other?” “All right, all right, but all the same…” Meadowbrook waved a hoof to calm him down. “Magic-crafters have always tampered with nature, simply to learn more natural philosophy. A national emergency surpasses that motive in terms of urgency. How many ponies have you saved with knowledge that was once condemned as ‘unnatural’?” Somnambula stood up to match him, as did Flash Magnus. “We know,” she said, “how dangerous it is to tamper with otherworldly affairs! Every one of us has heard stories about those heroes or villains who cross over to other worlds so foolishly. It could upset the balance of our own world, bringing chaos in its wake.” “I think we should use a tried and tested method, sah,” agreed Flash Magnus. “As my old sergeant used to say, better the kick you know than the cannon you don’t.” Stygian kept his mouth shut. When Star Swirl glared at him for support, he looked down at his hooves. Stygian didn’t trust himself not to glare back. They were breaking apart. All of them needed him to keep them together. They would have lost this war without him already. If only they’d shown the spirit he felt when he’d danced just then, the love and camaraderie and joy of their stamping and smiling. Why!? He knew he was right! If only they had listened to him! “Rockhoof?” snapped Star Swirl. “What say you to this?” Nearby, the bar-stallion thumped more stools down on tables. How could he ignore such an obvious argument breaking out in his own tavern? Despite his own inner rage, Stygian almost admired the pony his perseverance. A rumble announced that Rockhoof had caught a decision in his patient head. “I doubt it’s a good first move, Beardy, but I nae back away from a fight neither. We face chaos whatever we do. So if it comes to that, I say do it. Only if.” Still not satisfied, Star Swirl grunted and his bells jangled. “Captain Magnus, tried and tested methods have failed us so far. Do you not talk of the Whale Threshold in the pegasus army?” Stygian heard the armour clank and guessed the soldier had saluted. “Yes, sah! Old rule on the books, sah! Any threat serious enough to put the realm in the cra– in the toilet, sah – pardon my Minotaurean, sah – is beyond normal M.O. and anything used against it is justified, sah!” “And now, Captain Magnus?” The pause wobbled. Then he said: “Sah! I’d say the realm is well and truly in the… toilet, sah!” “Hm. As for you, Somnambula, wouldn’t you seize any chance, however slim, of winning this war? I recall you weren’t so reticent in the teeth of that sphinx, what.” Her voice was a sickle. “I trust there is a better way, Star Swirl the Bearded.” “Indeed. And Meadowbrook, ponies are dying.” Stygian held his breath. Regardless of the dusk light – itself dying outside the window – the room darkened far faster than it should’ve. Was that old sorcerer bullying a consensus out of them? What gave him the right to act like a king among subjects? Who does he think he is, bullying my team? Yet slowly, hesitantly, the other ponies shuffled their hooves where they sat or stood. Beside him, Stygian heard the bar-stallion quietly remove the stool Mistmane had knocked over. Stygian watched them out of the corner of his eye. It was Mistmane who stepped forwards. “I cannot condone this course of action, Star Swirl.” “You want to see them stopped,” said Star Swirl. “I can stop them permanently.” “The limbo relocator spell is still experimental! Supposing you simply sent those monsters to another part of Equestria? They would return, and we would be lulled into a false sense of security.” Another thunderclap smacked Stygian around the head. He threw it back and gripped his ears tightly between his hooves, gritting his teeth against the pain hitting him over and over. Through eyes narrowed and hot, he saw the others groan and clutch their heads. Even Mistmane flinched. By the time the echoes stopped stinging, Star Swirl thumped the table. “This is no longer just another war!” he bellowed, spittle flying. “Do or die!” “Star Swirl!” Mistmane reared up. “This is getting out of hand.” “Exactly! The sirens are tearing our beloved country into pieces, and you want to show them mercy? You want me to stand back and let them? Because that’s all we will accomplish if we do not aim higher than they do. Much higher.” “But limbo! Star Swirl! I’m surprised at you. The place has too many terrible stories. Ponies who meddle in the affairs of other worlds all meet grisly fates –” “Open your eyes, Mistmane! We are in a terrible story right now! We face a grisly fate even as we speak! But as soon as we send those brutes to limbo, the last seven years of our lives will all become a shadow of a nightmare. All our fighting will have been worthwhile.” Meadowbrook opened her mouth to speak. “No, Meadowbrook! Think!” Star Swirl pointed at each of them, leg stiff as a cane. “Think, everyone! Think of the lives we’d save, if we sent those monsters to the depths of limbo for all eternity, where they could no longer hurt our fellow ponies. No, I have decided. This is too grave a situation for us to be timid any longer.” The silence fell like an axe. Flash Magnus was the first to cough. “Steady on, sah,” he said, half-chuckling. “We’re all on the same side here. Aut simul stabunt aut simul cadent.” Rumbling, Rockhoof cast a sidelong glance at the long beard. “You wanna sleep on it, Beardy? Could be worth dreein’ over a wee slumber.” Just as Somnambula opened her mouth too, Meadowbrook raised her hoof to bar her. The healer’s face fixed on Star Swirl, giving him none of the warmth that had seeped through before now. Her other forelimb picked up the tankard, which sloshed a little. All ears listened as she gulped the last of the brandy down. Then the tankard hit the table. Meadowbrook belched. It was a heck of a belch. Stygian felt it through his legs. The rafters groaned and one of them slid out of place. “Let’s sleep on it, everypony,” said Meadowbrook. “Tomorrow’s gonna be the mama and papa of battles, either way. I sure hope you’re right, Star Swirl.” But she glanced at Stygian when she spoke next. “For your sake, sweetheart, I honestly wish you are right as rain.” Was there concern in those parting words? Stygian might have imagined it. In any case, she didn’t stick around after that, but simply bustled towards the exit. Rockhoof shrugged and bent his head low to follow her out. Flash Magnus shrugged and flew out after them. And that left four. Somnambula nodded to each of them in turn, her mask of concern cutting through the dark outlines of her eyes. She flew out too, just not with the same vim and vigour Flash Magnus had. Then again, he hadn’t looked so confident either. Behind the bar, the bar-stallion watched the three remaining unicorns warily. Whatever goodwill he’d had obviously hadn’t lasted, not now Meadowbrook was out the door. A gentle hoof met Stygian’s shoulder; Mistmane patted him, not unkindly, but definitely stiffer than usual. At least her wrinkled smile shone through, like a shine on an apple, before she looked back at Star Swirl. Stygian didn’t see her expression, fortunately or unfortunately. There was no clue from Star Swirl, either. His face remained inscrutable. The door creaked shut, leaving just the two unicorns. Oh, and… “Last orders, gents?” said the bar-stallion. “Leave us, bartender,” was Star Swirl’s dismissive reply. “Only I’m closing up the tavern now.” Too late, Stygian closed his eyes. The flare forced him to blink out the afterimages. He’d almost leapt in panic. Bang! Stygian looked at the bar. The back of the tavern smoked heavily. Broken glass tinkled. Nervous eyes peered over the counter. The bar-stallion had ducked. “I said leave us,” said Star Swirl. “I am asking politely.“ “He really is, sir,” said Stygian to the nervous eyes. They darted off quick. Hoofsteps hurried out the back. Whimpering. Stygian had never heard a big stallion whimper. It was quite an education. And then there were two.