Twilight reappeared within her room at the library, shaken by what she had found in the field, and Death’s warning, still. Back in the comforting, familiar place though, she started to relax.
At least, she did until Death snapped Beware!, making her startle suddenly.
“Wh,” she began, before she noted something.
There was somepony with her in the room, lingering in the darker shadows in the corner. They had a heavy cloak that covered most of them, preventing any real identification.
Yet, she somehow noticed something she shouldn’t have: she knew him to be dead.
Caution, Twilight. Death warned as her horn lit, Twilight preparing to catch him. He is no simple undead. She noted a few things more or less the instant she grabbed hold of him, and heaved to bring him out of the dark corner so she could get a better look at him.
The first was that he resisted her tugs, much like Night had. Though, where Night hadn’t shown any response, he did, visibly struggling against her. He also felt oddly difficult to grab, as though he was slipping from her grip somehow; something she hadn’t felt before. It took a moment or two before she realized how he was:
He was using deathly magic against her own, trying to ward off or possibly sever her grip on him.
An anger not her own momentarily overtook her when she noticed that, and she glared. Her grip firmed around him, almost crushing him a little, and she heaved suddenly.
He yelled as he was actually picked up and more or less thrown toward her, only just managing to land on his hooves instead of his head. She heard his hooves skid on the floor as he adopted a more desperate stance of resistance, and heard an odd scraping sound as well, as though something metal was dragging on the floor with him.
“Wait, wait!” he yelped suddenly, in a more or less normal voice. “I just want to talk! Please, stop!”
Twilight hesitated, the odd anger fading away at the slight surprise at finding his voice so normal sounding; she had not expected him to say anything. She watched him, suddenly unsure, as he kept struggling in her grip, and she noted his fear and mild panic. Recalling his command of deathly magic, however, she retained a strong grip on him, and ensured she remained on guard:
She didn’t want another surprise like the specter.
“You want to talk?” she asked him.
“Y, yes.” he managed, still struggling, but slowing his attempts as it became clear she wasn't pulling him more so than just holding him. “Just talking, nothing more, I promise.”
Twilight watched him slowly relax, and noted that he wasn't panting, despite exertion. His cloak hid most of him, but she spotted that one of his hooves glinted oddly when he shifted it; likely the source of the odd scraping sounds.
“Who are you?” she asked him.
“I, I’m Icy Winds, Princess.” he told her, finally ceasing to struggle against her.
“And what did you want to talk to me about, Icy Winds?”
“…An understanding.” Icy said.
“An understanding?” Twilight asked. “You try to lurk in the shadows and fight against me and you want to talk about understandings?”
“Yes.” he said rather bluntly for Twilight’s tastes.
She frowned at him. “Well, understand this: I don’t trust you and if you try anything funny, I won’t listen again.”
“I understand.” Icy said, giving a brief nod.
“What did you want me to understand?”
“It’s not that sort of understanding.” Icy clarified. “Far more of a sort of deal, in fact.”
“A deal with you?”
“No, a deal with what I represent.”
“And what do you represent?”
“…I’d feel a lot better telling you that if you were to let go of me.” Icy said.
Twilight frowned again. Several thoughts occurred to her.
She was pretty sure she couldn’t trust him. Death itself had warned her against him, and he had shown an ability to resist her pull. As well as a command of deathly magic; what that meant, she wasn’t sure, but she was certain it wasn't good. And, oddly, she felt angry at him as well. A not normal angry.
A hot anger raged at his evasive answers, and wanted to make him answer clearly.
A cold anger that he would dare to resist her at all, that wanted to dominate him, force him to bend to her will in all ways.
They both felt somehow natural, despite her being aware that they were not really a part of her. She worried about them both; the heat she so recently felt, and the new cold so unfamiliar, yet much the same as the heat…
Twilight rejected them both with all the will she could bring to bear. Though she could not silence them, she forced them away, and, as they both wanted her to act against Icy, she made a sudden choice, and let him free from her grip before she really thought any more about it.
Icy relaxed more as she did so, and gained a small smile. “That’s better.” he sighed, to Twilight’s faint concern; she still didn’t trust him, but she was trusting herself a bit less right then.
“You had me worried for a moment there, Princess.” Icy told her. “I almost thought you were just going to end me right then and there.”
“You didn’t speak at first.” Twilight told him, trying to relax herself, but finding it hard to. “I didn’t know what you wanted.”
“I wanted to make an entrance.” Icy said. “I guess that wasn't the best idea, huh?”
“No.” Twilight bluntly stated. “If you wanted to talk, you should have said so the moment I arrived. The only thing your ‘entrance’ did was make me think you were some horrible thing waiting to try and ambush me.”
“I didn’t mean to have that effect.” Icy said.
“Well, you did. Now, let’s try again: what do you represent?”
“I am an envoy from the Hidden Grotto, Princess Rest.” Icy told her, his voice a touch grandiose. “We are a group of differently alive ponies, and I was sent to,”
“Differently alive?” Twilight interrupted, confused. “You mean undead?”
“No, definitely not.” Icy said, his tone a fair bit more serious.
“And how not?” she asked him. “You’re not even breathing.”
Icy huffed. “We, Princess are ‘differently alive’. We might not be actually alive, but we’re all ponies still. To be undead is to not be a pony, and instead become something else. To forget who you once were, which we have not.”
“…I see.” Twilight murmured, thoughtful. The term suggested something interesting, as well as something more:
First, that there were undead that considered themselves ponies, despite their undead natures. A term like ‘differently alive’ seemed to imply that undead who called themselves that sort of denied their own undeath and at least tried to be as near to ‘alive’ as possible. A thought very interesting.
The second was the slight implication that undead segregated themselves based on several unknown criteria. Twilight had always just sort of grouped them all together under ‘undead’, but then again…
She had met ghosts that were ponies through and through, ghosts that were almost nothing, and ghosts that were barely more than monsters. Night was a vampony that could feel pain and fear; perhaps something like Icy, but obviously different still. And to consider either to be similar to a ghoul seemed cruel on her part, and a gross misunderstanding of their actual beings.
It was always true and known that undead came in different varieties; different names, different forms.
But then, Twilight wondered if those differences had more meaning than she, or anypony else, had ever imagined them to have.
“As I was saying,” Icy continued, “I was sent to try and bargain with you, Princess.”
“To what end?” she asked, still musing over the ideas.
“To see you pass over us.” Icy told her, and noting her slight confusion, clarified, “To ensure that you spare us your rest and leave us be. In return, we of the Hidden Grotto are willing to offer you anything we might to ensure your cooperation: we have much to give, much we can do, and much we can share.”
Twilight hesitated, refocusing. That was…
She wasn’t even sure if she was allowed to make such a broad decision; to allow an unknown number of ponies, assuming that the whole of the Hidden Grotto was, in fact, ponies, to exist outside life. Beyond that, she wasn't even sure if she should, or even if it was right for her to do so:
As Death had shown her, souls left unguided slowly forgot. Turning into wisps who knew nothing but unrest, to be regulated to Death’s boneyard, their sole rest their own bones.
She wondered if the same happened to souls with bodies; greater undead, she supposed. If it did, was it right for her to allow it to happen? Was it right for her to allow them to even begin to forget? To let them suffer on, even if they themselves asked her to let them do so?
And if it didn’t happen to them, how should she treat them? She knew, automatically, that Death would see them reaped along with all the rest without distinction; no soul mattered more than any other, after all. But was that the right choice to make?
Or should she wait until, presumably, their bodies finally failed them and they technically ‘die’ again? And how long would that take?
She was fairly sure Night was functionally immortal. It was an easy assumption to presume that other undead could retain bodies for basically forever until something ‘killed’ them. Death had suggested that long lives of undeath would rob one of empathy and kindness; rendering them unable to care for others.
She, as well as the other alicorns, were immortal. But she, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, had all been… taught, she supposed. Taught to become themselves, guided by a greater hoof: Lux. She herself even had Death teaching her and keeping her safely within Lux’s rules.
But others didn’t have that. They just had themselves, whatever that mattered, and the undeath that lived in them.
She had felt Night’s own addiction. The dark mind that commanded and lulled and raged within the vampony. The dark power that no will could stand against, the dark urges that none could resist.
She knew undeath. The crawling cold that lurked in the undead. The cold hate that fought to take control. She knew that it was strong, and insidious; it had her before she even knew it was there, and had turned her into a terrible thing, twisting her pain into rage and lashing out at those she had cared for.
Icy and more might be ‘differently alive’, but for how long? Could they fight against the undeath and truly live on, or was it a battle against the inevitable?
…
Did things like specters and ghouls come from ponies who fell prey like she had?
She didn’t know, and wasn't sure.
“…Princess?” Icy asked, finally jarring her from her thoughts. She looked back to him, and she had no answers to any of her questions, and no sure way of gaining them.
She looked at Icy, and saw him as three things then.
He was a pony that stood in front of her, waiting for her response.
He was a monster waiting to be born, an evil not yet freed; maybe even an evil pretending to be something it wasn't.
He was an undead, a lost soul, in need of guidance, in need of rest.
“…I… don’t know.” she whispered, lowering her head, trying to pick a choice, but finding it impossible to decide upon one.
“What?” Icy asked, not having really heard her, and confused at her current state.
“I… can’t decide now.” she told him, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“…You could just agree.” Icy suggested.
“No, I shall not.” Twilight said firmly, giving him a glare. Icy took a step back, and gave her a nervous grin in response. Then she huffed, and looked away for a few moments. “…I will think about it.” she told him. “But it might be days before I can even begin making a decision.”
“…Is there any way we might aid you in deciding?” Icy asked her.
“…Show me I can trust you.” Twilight told him. “Prove to me that you really are ‘differently alive’. Prove to me that you really do deny undeath, and try to live up to that title you hold onto. Prove to me that the Hidden Grotto is something I want to keep being, and not something that I should end.”
“…I understand.” Icy told her. “Is that what I should tell them?”
“Yes.” Twilight told him, turning toward her bed, before she hesitated, a final thought occurring to her. “And one thing more.” she said, looking back as Icy stood. “A sort of guarantee:”
“If I do decide to send you all to rest, know that I will make it as peaceful and good as I can. If I can, I’ll finish any regrets and see your final wish completed. Then, once I have set you at ease, and you no longer fear the sleep, I’ll guide you to your rests and gently as a mother might lay their foal to bed.”
“…I don’t know if that’s possible.” Icy said as she turned away. “We all fear our end.”
“There is no need to fear Death.” Twilight told him. “There is no need to fear the rest. There is no need to fear me.” Icy didn’t respond as Twilight stopped by the edge of her bed, and gave a final sigh. “Go, Icy Winds, and tell the grotto what I have told you.”
“I shall, Princess.”
“May the stars guide your way this night.” she said as she climbed into her bed. After a moment, she heard the gentle sound of the door opening and closing, Icy taking care to make very little noise, and she relaxed.
“Death?” she called softly.
Yes, Twilight?
“Do undead like Icy forget?”
Undead that retain their physical forms are resistant to the cold, Twilight. Death whispered to her. It is hard to forget oneself when a physical form is still possessed. However, they too forget, but they do so differently than a soul might.
Undead such as Icy might feign at life, but if they are not constantly reminded of it, they soon forget it. If they do not somehow manage to find something to grip onto, some way to keep reminding themselves that they are ponies, they swiftly turn into different beings, depending on exact circumstance.
Twilight nodded, and asked, “Do you know anything about the Hidden Grotto?”
I do not.
Twilight nodded again. For several long moments, it was silent, Twilight trying to relax, but something was bugging her. After trying and failing to dispel the feeling, she once more softly called, “Death?”
Yes, Twilight?
“Am I doing well?” she softly asked him.
For several moments, Death did not answer her. Then, he finally spoke.
You are still learning, Twilight, and far more than my duty lies within your responsibilities. Outside my domain, I cannot say how well you have been doing. Within my domain, however… you have not been doing well.
There is no need to show the kindness you do to those in need of rest. While it may appear harmless and good to sooth those past on, with each word you waste time and worse, many a soul can and will use that mercy against you. Every time you chose to allow a soul to persist, such as Zecora or Buttercup, you are taking the chance that they will use what you have given them against the living, or worse, allow them to forget a little more, and thus near closer to the final fate of the unguided soul.
While I accept this as a consequence of your life and learning, know that your sparing Icy is not so easily accepted. He is no simple undead. He has a portion of my power; power he should not have.
You should not have allowed him to persist. Death told her, his voice growing cold and harsh, Twilight quailing at hearing his anger. Just as you should not allow any who retain even a tiny portion of my power. For an undead to have a single mote is enough that I would sooner you destroy its physical form outright, thus freeing my power from it, than to have you allow them to continue being a single instant longer than that action would require.
This time, and this time alone, I will turn a blind eye to that failure.
Death’s voice calmed as he continued, However, if you wish for him, or any like him, to persist, Twilight, I will demand compensation in return. The coins you earn in enacting your duty are the currency I will accept: fail to have enough, and you will guide the undead you face no matter your will on the matter. Am I understood?
“Yes.” Twilight weakly answered, greatly cowed by the faint anger in Death’s voice. It carried hints of disappointment as well.
A faint sigh came from Death. You need not be so affected, Twilight. As I first said; you are learning yet, and your responsibilities are far more than the duty. I am not angry with you.
That helped Twilight feel a touch better, and she calmed a bit.
Sleep, Twilight. Rest, and recover. There is much for you to attend to come the morning.
Twilight sighed softly, and once more she heard Death’s soundless song. She smiled, even as it soother her tired mind and blanketed her will. In some way, the song proved that Death was not upset with her to her; something she greatly enjoyed knowing.
Under the song’s lulling nothingness, Twilight soon slept dreamlessly.
Fluttershy entered her home and shut the door behind her, giving a mildly relieved sigh before she sadly shook her head. The bearers had gone their separate ways after Princess Rest had failed to immediately follow them. They had presumed that she was doing something important, and they all had something to check:
To ensure that their own homes had not been compromised.
Not a thing Fluttershy liked to even think about, but, she, thankfully, felt secure still. If anything had tried to dig its way in, the animals would have found it and told her about it already, thus leaving her mostly free of anxiety on the return home.
“Night?” she called, shaking herself faintly; still effected by the night’s events. “It’s alright to come out now.”
She waited for a response and, failing to hear one, grew nervous, swiftly.
“Night?” she called again, gaining a note of worry. “Night are you there?” She moved forward; what would have been simply worrying was now frightening after finding Trixie also unresponsive. Fluttershy found it very easy to imagine something terrible happening to Night as well.
“Ni,” Fluttershy stopped with a sudden gasp, and stared, wide-eyed at the scene she had just stumbled into. Angel was sitting atop a pile of dust, stomping on it in anger, before he noticed her and stopped doing that.
“No…” Fluttershy breathed, hurrying forward, Angel giving her a confused look as she shooed him off the dust. “N, Night?” she quavered, looking at it. A hoof reached out, shaking, and touched it. Fluttershy shook faintly, caught between abrupt and sudden grief, and sudden anger.
“Angel,” she began, before she stopped, noticing.
There was another dust pile.
Which didn’t make any sense.
Vamponies turned to dust when they died, she knew that. But two piles? That wasn't possible… unless there had been another vampony in her home.
And, calmer, she felt it impossible that Angel had managed to kill Night, despite the position she had caught him in and his rather pointed hatred for the vampony. So, that left her with only one real possibility:
Night had been ponynapped by vamponies. She fought two of them off, but was overpowered and dragged away, to… um… actually…
What would a bunch of vamponies want with Night? It didn’t make any sense.
And the first idea implied that there had been more than two vamponies in her home so as to allow Night to kill two and yet be taken away. Which also didn’t make any sense because nopony knew Night was at her home besides herself and Princess Rest.
Fluttershy pondered it for a moment before the truth of it came to her, and she froze in abrupt fear.
They hadn’t come for Night.
They had come for her.
Night must have fought them, killing two of them before pursuing a third or more out of her home. And Fluttershy really, really hoped it was only three.
If it had been four, she was certain that Night would only be able to chase the one and the fourth or more was either coming back right now.
Unless they were already here, hiding someplace, waiting for her to return.
“A, Angel.” she quavered, moving over to the rabbit. Angel gave her a confused look before she scooped him up, using him as both security blanket and safeguarding protector. “W, we, we’re going to, to go an, and find Night.” she managed, shaking a little. She didn’t feel safe in her own home.
She had barely managed to take a single step before a sudden thud from outside had her shriek and hide under the couch, taking Angel with her. Angel, for his part, wasn't appreciating being unable to breath as she quivered in terror under the furniture, and swiftly managed to wiggle free, gasping for breath once he was free.
“Angel!” Fluttershy squeaked as he did so, and the rabbit looked back to see her staring at him in terror; she dearly wanted to grab him again, but didn’t dare to get out from under the couch. “A, Angel, come back!”
Angel huffed and looked away; yes, she was afraid, but he knew that the threats were gone. Now, as for that thud.
Angel hopped away from her to then leap up and land on a nearby window edge. He then squinted, trying to peer out into the dark night outside.
Fluttershy watched him do so, and imagined all sorts of dark things reaching for the poor bunny. She kept quivering, was still terrified of the monsters she was certain were there, but she had to do something!
With great force of will, she got herself to start wiggling out from under the couch, casting fearful glances left and right to assure herself that nothing was there before she kept going. Once freed, she darted to Angel with speed she didn’t normally possess.
“Angel, it isn’t safe.” she whispered urgently as she tried to grab him, though Angel hopped over her hoof and evaded her attempts. He pointed out the window several times over as she tried to focus on grabbing him, eventually becoming a bit too animate and allowing Fluttershy to snag onto him.
“Angel, stop!” Fluttershy hissed as the rabbit wiggled in her grip, the mare worried that the little sounds he was making was sure to lure some terrible thing. She finally hesitated as Angle managed to get her gaze directed towards the window.
She hesitated, for an instant terrified, seeing something outside. But then she realized that it was a glowing thing, and hesitated before she peered outside.
Then she gaped, fear mostly gone.
There was a tiny, dim light outside. A weak light that came from a blue horn that gave off just enough light to allow Fluttershy to see a little of what was near it, and to notice the dark shape of a collapsed vampony nearby. A horn attached to a pony that she had been certain was dead and gone.
That was Trixie! That was her out there, unable to stand up for some reason and trying to do something! When there were strange vamponies running around!
She had to do something!
Angel squeaked as he was abruptly dropped, Fluttershy darting around, momentarily forgetting where her first aid kit was and muttering to herself as she tried to find it before she finally did so. Then rushed out of the house.
“Trixie!” Fluttershy yelled, rushing to the fallen unicorn and the collapsed vampony. She skidded to a halt nearby, Trixie’s glow enough to find the pair, but looking closer, she noted how weak that light was. It was barely enough to identify Trixie, and not nearly enough for anything else.
“H, hang on, I, I just need,” Fluttershy tried to say, greatly flustered, leaving the first aid kit behind and running back to her home, to burst inside, knocking Angel with the door in the process.
“Angel!” she yelped, grabbing onto the dazed bunny. “I’m so sorry, but I need a light!” she told him, getting him atop her back and running through the house, trying to find something to allow her to see out there.
Angel slowly recovered, gave her a mild glare for hitting him with the door, and then leapt from her back.
“Angel!” she yelped, looking to see him land atop a nearby desk; the same desk she had gotten the first aid kit out of. “Angle, you…”
Fluttershy trailed off, seeing Angle reached in and grab hold of the small magical lantern that had been there the entire time. He kicked it, getting it to light up, and then gave her an irritated, questioning look, one foot tapping.
Fluttershy gave him a nervous grin and faint blush in response as she walked to him, gently taking the lantern. “Sorry.” she whispered to him.
Angel huffed and gave a great sigh before he hopped atop her back. Fluttershy glanced at him, to which Angel gave a firm point toward the window once more, making her stare at him before it came back to her and she gasped and ran outside once more.
Outside, armed with the lantern, she once more skidded to a halt next to Trixie and the vampony that she was then fairly sure was Night. “Sorry,” she began, before she stopped, seeing better.
Trixie was breathing a little hard, as if she had just exerted herself, and seemed pained. Her side bore a large gash that bled, though thankfully not profusely. She had that side almost touching Night’s head.
Night’s eyes remained closed, but she was licking at Trixie’s side in an almost desperate manner, like a pony dying of thirst might lick the morning dew off something. Her tongue would occasionally hit the wound, making Trixie’s breathing hitch. Night herself seem pained as well; Fluttershy noted that she had an ugly scab on her chest. Fluttershy was fairly sure that it not healing was a very bad sign for the vampony.
Trixie looked at Fluttershy, one eye wincing heavily as the other remained firmly shut; she was obviously in pain and struggling still.
“Just, just hang on Trixie.” Fluttershy said, looking a bit closer. The gash was large, but not deep; fresh yet. She should be able to bandage it without any problem: she could wash the wound later, after she had gotten the pair inside.
She got the bandages, and went to Trixie, only to stop as the unicorn managed to jerk her head. Fluttershy hesitated and Trixie attempted to speak:
“O!”
“…No?” Fluttershy asked, to which Trixie’s head managed something that looked a lot like a nod.
“El e ee er!”
“…What?”
“El e ee er!” Trixie tried again, struggling mightily to be understood.
Fluttershy just stared, not understanding her at all. Trixie closed her eye and focused; a tiny light flicked from her horn, catching Fluttershy’s attention. She watched it descend, pass over Trixie’s wound, floating down a blood trail to then be intercepted by Night’s tongue, when it vanished.
Fluttershy blinked, confused, looked back at Trixie, wondering what on Equestria the unicorn was trying to tell her.
“Ood!” Trixie tried. “E ees ood!”
“…he knees good?” Fluttershy guessed, to which Trixie managed to jerkily shake her head. “I don’t understand…”
Trixie gasped suddenly, making Fluttershy startle. She noted Night shift faintly, her tongue lapping at Trixie’s wound; rather forcefully pressing against it, to the unicorn’s obvious pain.
Fluttershy frowned and moved to Night, intent on stopping her. Why was she even licking Trixie anyway? That couldn’t be healthy, and it was hurting her.
She grabbed hold of Night’s head, and managed to pull it back.
“O!”
“What?” Fluttershy asked, looking to Trixie only to stare as Trixie heaved, pushing herself closer to Night and once more getting her wound in licking range. Fluttershy let go, and stared as Night resumed licking, Trixie giving faint gasps and winces again, utterly lost. “What are you doing?” she asked, baffled; it was almost as if Trixie wanted Night to lick her wound.
“There you are.” a dark and dull voice said.
Fluttershy gasped hugely and whirled, to see a strange pony standing on the edge of the light from her lantern. He was covered in a heavy cloak, one that hung heavy with a black substance, his face totally covered in a heavy hood. He stood taller than she was and radiated menace; his gaze seemed locked on Trixie, and then moved slightly down to look at Night.
“I knew she wouldn’t be able to fly too far.” he, Fluttershy guessed, said, his voice all too dark and emotionless for her liking. She backed a little away from him glancing at Trixie and Night as she did so.
Trixie was staring at the pony with wide, terrified eyes.
Fluttershy looked back at the dark pony, her fear abated slightly.
“I’m surprised you survived at all.” he seemed to say to Night before looking back up at Trixie. “Trying to have your accidental savior wake back up?” he asked. “Don’t bother. The blood she needs to recover is far more than what you can give her.”
Fluttershy blinked, suddenly realizing what Trixie had been trying to tell her: she wanted her to help feed Night.
“O ay!” Trixie managed, wiggling just a bit closer to Night, her horn’s light growing just a bit.
“No.” the dark pony intoned. “I worked for far too long, and fought too many things this night to fail now.” He began advancing on Trixie, Trixie leaning back, terrified.
Then he stopped as Fluttershy got in his path, glaring at him. His gaze slightly shifted down to see her. “Move.”
“No.” Fluttershy said, glaring at him. Terrifying as he was, she wasn't about to let him near her friends, much less her obviously hurt and afraid friends. Atop her back, Angle looked incredibly worried.
“This is your final warning.”
“You are not going to hurt my friends!” Fluttershy declared, glaring at him all the stronger.
The two stared at one another for several moments, the impassive pony and the angry yellow pegasus.
Then Fluttershy darted, feinting left before going right, going for his hood.
Angle Bunny slammed into the back of her head, knocking her off course, and thus making the blow miss her head and only slice free a part of her mane instead. Angle jumped up and was swatted away like a fly as Fluttershy recovered. She looked that way, gaping, before she growled at the pony in front of her.
She darted again, and he barely appeared to move before he threw her, screaming, into the wall of her own house, where she impacted heavily and landed with a thud, not getting up immediately.
“Be thankful, kindness, for I would not normally,” the pony began, taking a step toward Fluttershy’s fallen form before a roar interrupted him. He looked up as Bruno appeared, standing huge, raging. One hoof snapped out to catch the paw that went to hit him, skidding a little on the dirt below him.
Even as his other hoof moved, a swarm of smaller animals charged him.
Fluttershy weakly got up, Angel tugging at her as her animals swarmed him. It wasn't going well for the animals. Combined, they seemed to put him off balance and confuse him, but it was very, very obvious that that was all they could do.
She glared, and ran, but not to join them.
She ran to Trixie and Night. At first, she grabbed onto Night and more or less stuffed her hoof in the vampony’s jaws.
“oo ee!” Trixie tried, and Fluttershy hesitated, feeling Night biting, yes, but failing to feel the familiar sting. A brief check found her fangs missing, and in a sudden flash of understanding, she suddenly realized why Trixie wanted Night to lick her wound so much; because she couldn’t bite anymore. She had the terrible thought that that was a very, very bad sign for Night’s health.
Bruno roared in pain, and Fluttershy firmed herself, darting to grab the first aid kit. She pulled the small pair of scissors free from it, and barely hesitated before she slashed her front left leg. Bleeding heavily, she went back to Night, and began bleeding into her open mouth; freely giving herself to the fallen vampony, her heart beating in concern for her.
“ENOUGH!” the pony roared, and screamed a terrible, unholy scream that saw the animals around him scatter in unthinking fear. Even mighty Bruno drew away from him, a few daggers stuck in his shoulder.
“Enough.” he repeated, his voice twisted and rasping, far from the dark monotone from before. “I’ve never been… so angry before.” he rasped, turning to look at the group. “It seems… everything is… trying to… upset me tonight…”
He took a step towards them, shaking slightly. “First… that insipid… vampony… making me… have to fight… then the other… the thief… flying away with… my master’s desire…” Another step, his breathing heavy and harsh, his body seeming to shiver.
Trixie watched him approach so slowly in outright terror. Fluttershy remained fixed on Night, waiting.
“And now this… mockery…” he continued, his voice rasping and shaking in rage. “Where… kindness… thinks she can… prevent me… from doing… my master’s will…” He took two swift steps, and shuddered. “With mere… animals…”
Trixie looked back to Fluttershy, and saw her calm and focused totally on Night, despite the terrible thing approaching them. She looked at Night, and hearing the pony take another faltering step, looked back, panic growing, but the paralysis still strong in her.
“I… was… hurt…” he rasped, his voice growing more and more monstrous. He was panting, seeming to struggle to even stand, shaking with each motion. “I… bled… because of… animals…. Because of… kindness.” He took another step; perhaps only a scant ten more before he could reach them.
Trixie looked back to Fluttershy, and again, saw her perfectly calm yet. She remained focused on Fluttershy, unwilling to look at the approaching pony anymore, even after hearing him take another unsteady step.
“I… will make… you suffer… like nothing… ever had… ever will…kindness…”
Another step.
“I will… rip you… apart… piece by piece… bit… by bit…”
Another step.
“I will… devour… your precious… animals… before your… eyes…”
Two swift steps.
“And then… I will… I will…”
Another step.
“…I will… do my master’s… will…”
Another step. His voice slowly gained in normalcy.
“I will… do what… he asked of me… I will not… I will not fail him…”
Another step, one steadier than the rest.
“…But my vengeance… will be long… and satisfying indeed… Are you ready, Kindness? Hoping that… your blood will wake her before I… can reach you..? Useless… She is too far gone to come back…”
Another step.
“I have you now, kindness.”
He took the last step, and Trixie saw his hoof reaching for Fluttershy.
Night’s eyes suddenly opened. The next thing either pony knew, Fluttershy was abruptly behind Night, and the pony screamed a terrible scream as Night snapped her jaws on his outstretched hoof.
Fluttershy recovered, holding her bleeding hoof, and watched with Trixie. Neither could see the battle too well, it was happening so swiftly.
Night seemed to barely move at all, dodging the other’s wild swings with as little motion as possible, nearing closer and closer until she could dart and sink her fangs into him, producing a scream each time before he ripped her off of him, and she leapt back away to begin the pattern anew. The other grew faster and more erratic with each bite, and Night somehow always found a way to again reach him, to again bite him.
“How!?” he screamed after barely any time at all. “How are you still alive!?”
“I am the first!” she boasted back, her soft voice set against his rasping screams. “I am the mother of them all!”
“You should be dead! You were weak and I hit your heart! That tiny bit of blood cannot have revived,” his scream cut off as Night bit him again, and he threw her off with more force than before.
Night smirked as she flawlessly recovered, and watched him, panting heavily. “If that was blood taken, then yes, you’re right.” she told him. “But that blood was blood given. Blood offered in kindness and with good in her heart. Such a precious gift is worth the blood of ten ponies.”
“Impossible.” he rasped again.
“Impossible is what the losers say.” Night retorted, making him growl like some nightmare. “Ready to die, abomination?”
A few moments passed in silence. Then he screamed that terrible scream again, and charged, still screaming. Night dropped low, gave off her own shrill shriek, and shot towards him.
Neither pony saw what did happen. They only saw the immediate aftermath.
The cloaked pony collapsed, his rasping breath dying in his throat, mere feet from them. A dark substance began pooling underneath him, a putrid scent emanating from it.
Night was beyond him, wincing; one wing was gone, and the pair saw it on the ground before it disintegrated into so much dust. “Faster than I thought he was.” she said weakly. “That… hurt…”
Fluttershy hurried to her, and offered her bleeding hoof again, only for Night to shake her head.
“No, no, I already drank too much out of you; you’re going to regret giving me so much when the adrenaline wears off, Fluttershy.” Night said. “I’ve been hurt worse anyway.” At Fluttershy’s concern look, she sighed again, and smiled at her. “If you want to help so bad get the bandages and stop your bleeding and my own.” Night said.
Fluttershy went towards the first aid kit once more, and Night walked over to Trixie, eyeing her. Trixie watched her back, still stuck in place but growing more and more able to move; though after the long night, she was tired too, mostly only up still because of the adrenaline in her own system.
“…I didn’t intend on saving you.” Night told her as Fluttershy returned with the bandages and began bandaging her wing stump. “That was actually an accident.”
Trixie didn’t respond, looking at Fluttershy. After a moment, Fluttershy looked back, and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Everypony is going to be so happy.” the timid mare whispered, her voice a bit hoarse, drawing concerned looks from both Trixie and Night.
“…Ancestors.” Night sighed, watching Fluttershy a bit more closely, noting a few telling indications. “She’s running on droplets.” she muttered, before she said, “Fluttershy, get inside before you collapse.”
“But,” Fluttershy tried, her voice faltering. After a moment, she just gestured at Trixie.
Night eyed her for a moment before she sighed, and looked at Trixie. “…You might still be numb, but you have my future apologies.”
Trixie looked to her, and attempted to startle as Night grabbed her, though she couldn’t do much more than jerk suddenly. With that, Night just began dragging Trixie off towards the house, intent on getting inside before Fluttershy fell over.
Fluttershy wordlessly gaped as she did so and then followed after the pair as Night knew she would, Trixie first giving little exclamations of protest before she quieted, noticing how Fluttershy, despite the obvious want to keep helping, was wobbling as she followed after them.
Night made it into the house, simply left Trixie on the carpet, pushed Fluttershy over onto the couch, and then managed to crawl atop it as well before settling into a resting position. That finally done, Fluttershy finally running out of adrenaline, Trixie reaching her own end, the three of them soon found sleep.