Moon 8986,
The moon was stronger tonight, paler in a way only I would know. It seems that I am being welcomed to this new land I’m arriving in. It’s a lovely little portion of the Equus plain, called by the locals Equestria. Until recently, it was a sparsely populated section of grassland and untamed forest. The change was brought through two sisters, alicorns, and not by chance. It seems the race may be on a recovery stasis. They built a lovely castle, rich in culture and wonder. I wonder how long this idealistic society will last before it falls to a foreign power they don’t understand. I’ve had eons to learn of such things, see such things as this. I can already see the seeds building for a war here. But it is not for feeding that I am here. Surely by now you know that.
The loneliness struck harder than ever tonight, enough to make tears flow. I know not as to why it seems to be worsening, although I have a hunch. It seems that with the passing of moons, I delve into deeper recesses of depression. No, not the usual kind that brings self-malice and self-hate, moreso the kind that makes you yearn to leave your seat and take a wagon to a new land. Ironically, that is what I have done.
The coven once again insisted on following where I go. Indeed, the notion is kind, but unfortunately, this old cuck has no heart left to warm. I was thinking that this would be the last time I make such a move, seeing as how my damnation is coming to an end soon. Well, relatively, that is. The past three moons have felt longer, dragged out, shaving away my stamina. Yes, I admit, I’m getting weaker. I find that hunting brings less thrill and more wear, leaving my coven to begin taking over.
We’ve started out in a lovely little area called Tramplevania. The woods are rife with life, and walking through the strong moon light, I feel more peace than I have in moons. Now, don’t mistake this as a declaration of finding true peace, just that instead of having a neighbor nailing envoys to my head, it is merely a woodpecker. I have a fond connection with one of the trees in this area, a large oak that may be older than I. The poor thing is gnarled and rough, a black patch on its leftward side, the result of a lightning strike most likely, as there are hardly two dozen ponies in these parts.
Ah, but Nightseer is now telling me that she must go out now on some business with a pony a scant three miles away, and may be gone for a few days. The members of my coven are trying to connect the local means of economics to our network so we have a certain amount of bits to our name. I sometimes forget that for most mortals, money is food, while for others food is money. It is a strange world we live in, however, and I don’t think I would very much like to see the day when greed isn’t one of the most terrible of sins.
I must be off now, as the moon is setting and my window would allow a certain amount of sunlight into the room. Seeing as how this is so, I must leave something in here to remind me next moonrise if I indeed do forget to look for it here, or elsewhere, if it may be. I would like to read a book labeled The Titles of Abashment. It is an intricate work by one of my dear friends from a past life, and seeing as how my quest seems to be pushing me to new affairs, I would very much like to put my charismatic attitude to work (Ailade says I must find a “mistress of the house”).
Until I am no longer Damned,
Hemorrhage
The solid blue unicorn gently set down his quill, staring over the dry brown parchment before him. He had forgotten to write last moon, seeing as the continual rocking of the boat had meant other distractions of a more physical kind. The journey had been a more entertaining venture than his last trip, as it was Leper’s first time across water. He had been as shaky as a windblown leaf upon entering the boat, and it had only worsened when the sails had unfurled and caught the wind. Ailade had tried to help the younger member as much as she could with her motherly attitude, but the seasick lycan had been no match for the sea’s might. In the end, he was holed up in the lower portside cabin for the whole thirteen day trip to this Equestria.
They had arrived from further down south, a dreadful chain of islands known as the Placid Isles. The name had been misleading, as hurricanes bombarded the islands every summer, and frigid winters left the fires roaring all moon long. The worst part was the food they had. The land creatures were only small rodents or birds, neither of which were tasteful or filling. There were also the sea creatures, but their salty blood had quickly become a more sharp taste than a slight one. In the end, the coven only endured two hundred and thirty moons of the terrible place. Now, they were here.
This land was as nice as he had heard it described; well wooded, evergreen, and lively. The perfect place to call home for the remainder of his life. Eventually, he would force the members of his coven out, even if it meant tying them up and shipping them across the sea. He loved them, as a father would his children, but this father was growing to be a grandfather. Even now, streaks of silver had begun to taint his ruby red mane. He could feel the bags under his eyes, the works of hundreds of years slowly taking its toll on him. Despite his supernatural body, he was aging and dying, and in only a couple dozen long years, he would fall to dust. Unless.
That word that haunted him, unless. In the hundreds of years he had lived, he had taken plenty of time to learn his limits and species. The full might he had, not to mention the power his unicorn magic gave him, made him stronger than any other being he had come across. That would change if he came across either of the two alicorns, but he doubted that despite their good intentions, they would check this tiny backwater corner of their land. Like the rest of society, they would claim virtue, but...
He trotted along the castle corridors from the large chamber he had dubbed his writing chamber. They had managed to construct part of the castle in the short time since they had arrived yesterday. They had decided that a castle would be most fitting in this land, as the ponies in these parts seemed to understand the implications the large structure made. It sent a clear message that with its immense size, it could swallow them, but as long as it was respected and given space, it wouldn’t. The weaker, uneducated minds of these farmers and herdsponies held bent to this ideal, as perception, not spear, held them in their position.
The building was moving along quickly, seeing as having four vampires, a lycan, and a mordigan working made work quick. They had established a greeting hall, main hall, and dining room, along with corridors throughout and four bedrooms, one for each of the vampires. Argon had taken one of the rooms for himself, claiming that while he was married, his wife needed separation too. The only male vampire, he was probably also the oldest of his coven, besides him. He was also his dearest friend, and knew more of his past than any of the other covenmates.
Hemorrhage grunted as he pushed through the doors to the common room. Ailade was there, her shiny teal eyes darting up to him as he entered. She smiled brightly as he moved across the room, her thin frame shifting so she was staring at him. She had a sleek turquoise body that shimmered in the low torchlight. Her violet mane was shorter and pulled up into a bun so as to not interfere with her self proposed work. She had claimed, when she first arrived, that she was indebted to him, and had taken upon herself not only keeping their living quarters clean, but also the health of the coven. She had been a nurse in her past life, as evidenced by a faded cutie mark in the form of a pink heart with a bandage wrapped up around it. How old was she now? Fifteen hundred moons?
“Good morning, Master,” she called brightly, lighting another torch. It briefly caught her hoof alight, which made her simply smile as she stomped it out. Moving on to another torch, she asked, “Do you have any plans to sleep this day, or are you going to spend another day ‘studying’? Oh don’t give me that look! I’m only looking out for your health, Master.”
“You shouldn’t worry about an old stallion's health, Ailade,” Hemorrhage said wearily. They had gone through this routine a hundred times, and would go through it a hundred more times. “And how many times have I told you not to call me master. One day, you’ll have to live without me. I don’t want you to be some crazy old hag when I’m gone, kneeling at my grave and calling it ‘Master’.”
“Ah, but that time won’t come if you find her,” the werewolf protested wistfully. The old mordigan quirked an eyebrow at his friend and self appointed maid, making her giggle.
“You first,” he responded, turning and pushing through another set of doors into the main hall. As he left, he heard her call back, “Fine, I will find her first!”
He chuckled as he moved through the main hall, stepping up the steps to where two thrones sat. He sighed, knowing exactly who had placed those. The roof was barely finished, a sheet of tinted black glass. They had brought it with them, as it was the only type of glass that allowed some semblance of sunlight through without killing the vampires. It let a dreary stream of light through that gave the room an ominous feeling. He chuckled at the irony that the place that they lived in was what most ponies would consider a supernatural’s home to actually be.
There was a loud clatter from behind him, followed by some shouting. He turned on his back legs hastily as another shout emanated through the chambers. Before he could even get to the doors, they swung open, a familiar lycan stumbling through the doors. He was looking panicked, but other than his wide silver eyes, he seemed completely uninjured. His gray-green fur was turning back to its usual emerald, evidence that he had rushed back to the castle in his lycan form. His teeth were already returning to their flat, equine regular form. No blood.
Several seconds passed as Leper returned to his pony form, panting as sweat glistened in his fur and gray mane. The younger stallion was the newest addition to the coven, barely six hundred moons into his new life. He had adapted well enough to the changes, considering he had been the son of a shepherd before he had been attacked. Now, it seemed that he was so well adapted to his newer form that he had mastered minute transfiguration, a powerful tool in every case. When the young lycan had caught his breath, he stared at the ground, waiting for questions before he spoke. It was a terrible trait the nervous lad had given himself, one that Hemorrhage had never taken from him.
“What is it, Leper,” he asked, putting a hoof on the larger pony’s shoulder. A brief moment of silence passed in which two things were made clear. One, that whatever had happened to the poor boy was dark, and two, it was something that was familiar beyond primal denial.
“A colt,” he muttered, still staring at the smooth stone floor. “I saw him not far from here. He was alone on a path in the bogs. Except, there was a pile of something. Bones, I think. I could smell blood, from both the colt and the pile. I think they were equine, at least, the colt treated them as such. He had a large gash on his neck, and part of his side seemed to be caved in.”
Behind Leper, he could see Ailade, press a hoof to her mouth, a horrified expression etched on her face. Behind her, Argon was holding Nightseer’s hoof, trying to calm his younger wife. This was almost the exact same condition they had found her, save this sounded much different from a vampire attack. Still, the mare had a haunted look on her face, a singular tear sliding down her sleek purple fur.
“The colt was crying when I found him,” Leper continued. “standing beside the pile. He was like that for a while, before he got a very strange expression on his face. He turned away from the pile and went to the water, lying down in it. I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but I know well enough that he was stirring the water. After a few minutes, he jerked his head out of the water, fish in his muzzle. He threw it to the middle of the path before crushing its head in with his bare hooves. Then… he ate it.”
Despite knowing where this was all inevitably going, Hemorrhage clenched his jaw at the prospect. Colts didn’t just eat a fish, or any other form of meat out of mere hunger. The thought of eating a living creature wasn’t in a pony’s nature. It was unnatural. This, in turn meant one of two things. Either the colt was insane, lost in the depths of his mind as an aftereffect of whatever happened, or he was no longer simply a colt. He felt that the latter was more likely, considering the manner of his situation.
“The colt ate almost everything, save for some bones and skin.” Leper shivered. “It was terrible. I left after that. The poor guy, he was probably just out there with somepony when whatever happened to him happened. His eyes: they were silver like mine. His teeth looked sharper. No, they had to be with how easily he ate that thing. I ran as fast as I could, back here. What does this mean, Hemorrhage?”
Taking a deep breath, Hemorrhage got the feeling that something was different about their new home. They had come here for peace, for him to have a worriless last thousand moons. Now it seemed that things were going to be very different from the life they had hoped for and imagined. Letting the breath out, he began speaking.
“It means that there is a young colt out there, one that must never return to its home lest it endangers ponies there. It means that we are going to be adding another member to the coven, the youngest by far. It means that we will have to train him, to raise him as one of our own, to help him understand his new life. It means that there will be a second lycan added to our coven. It also means that there is another lycan out there, one with less morality than us. It also means that this area is contested, which promptly means, we are locked in a territorial war.”