The Hollow Pony

by Type_Writer


24 - The Weather Factory

The rickety chamber turned pitch-black as we began to ascend into the ancient ruin of the dam. The lights within the lift had all burned out long ago, and no pony had bothered, or perhaps cared, to replace them. It made no difference whether our eyes were open or closed, and the only indication we had that the elevator was even moving at all was that we could hear the cables groaning above us, and a metallic scraping sound against the sides of the shaft. Even the song of the Gravewardens, that low hum that had permeated the valley, faded as we slowly climbed upwards.

It was terrifying. I didn’t realize how claustrophobic I was until this moment, where I could no longer see my own hoof in front of my face, where the floor shook and rattled. All of a sudden, the brown robes, the barding underneath, they were both too tight. It was choking me, and I had to get them off!

I started to grab wildly at the robes to pull them off as quick as I could while we were blinded, and Trixie was startled at how much I was suddenly moving. I could feel the elevator rock under me, and I heard it scrape more against the sides of the shaft, and it only made me more nervous.

“What the hay are you doing? Watch it!”

“S-sorry! I j-just...this...I d-don’t like this! Too dark, t-too tight!” I managed to rip the robe off, and tossed it against the back of the elevator, then started work on undoing the barding, at least around my wings.

I could hear Trixie growl in exasperation. “Rutting- Pegasus, right. Forgot you birdbrains hate being underground like this. Why didn’t you just fly up to the top, then?”

I shook my head, until I realized that the motion was completely lost in the darkness. “I t-told you, my wings don’t w-work! Not since I w-woke up.”

“Great, so you’re a cripple, too.”

Finally, I loosened the barding and pulled it down around my flanks, and my wings limply flopped free. One thumped against the wall, while the wing on the other side smacked against Trixie inside the tiny, confined space. Absolutely, positively, totally not on purpose.

“Ow! I said watch it!” Her continued protestations cried out shrilly in the gloom.

“S-sorry,” I mumbled, though I kept my wings somewhat extended. It made my muscles ache to keep them out like this, but being able to feel the air ruffle through my feathers as the elevator ascended did help me calm down a little. I could feel the air growing colder, even just by a minute amount. We really were high up in the mountains already, but gaining altitude by hoof, or by wing or elevator, were very different.

Fresh air washed in from above, and suddenly we were blinded when the elevator emerged back into the dim sunlight. We both groaned and covered our eyes, but the elevator started to groan ominously again as it came to a halt. The gates shuddered and rattled in front of us, and whether we could see or not, both Trixie and I leapt forward to grab onto the accordion-style metal door to try and pull it open.

After a few terrifying moments, we heard the metal shriek as we shoved it back into the frame of the elevator, and we pushed out of the tiny chamber. Trixie was faster and leapt out ahead of me, while I found my hooves entangled in my discarded robe, and I yelped as I tripped over them, and fell to the floor at her hooves. After a moment, I kicked the cloth free, and shook my head to clear my eyes, now that we were both safely out of the tiny deathtrap of a lift.

This office was nearly a twin of the one at the bottom of the shaft, in that it seemed to double as a supply or maintenance closet. However, this one was thankfully unchanged from how it originally appeared; there wasn’t a single skull to be seen, and only a few unlit candles, placed as guides to and from the exit. Cracked, grimy windows on both sides allowed sunlight through and lit up the room. Trixie went to peer through them, while I looked down at myself.

I had left my quilted barding hanging loosely around my rump, while my wings still hung open. Occasionally they twitched, as the muscles that held them up began to tire or itch, and it took a great force of will to pull them back against my body. It was as if they had a mind of their own, and clearly they no longer wanted to be trapped within my barding. The dark, cramped elevator shaft had been where my resolve in keeping them safely covered had shattered.

At the very least, my armor wasn’t shredded, or even terribly torn; it had a decent amount of battle damage from the journey here, and it was somewhat burnt, on the sections closer to my head. But it was still fine as far as armor went, unless I found something better. In fact, the armor’s only major flaw was that it was clearly designed for an earth pony, or a unicorn; it sat a little loosely on my thin frame, and had no allowance for my wings, though pulling it over them tightened it a bit.

“Euuugh. I’m not looking forward to moving across this dam, Assistant. There’s a lot of dead moving around out there- What are you doing now?” Trixie had turned back to talk to me, only to notice how I was staring at the barrel portion of my barding.

“Um.” A thought had suddenly occurred to me, and I reached for my bottomless bag. “I th-think I can cut wingholes into my arm-armor.”

“And why would you want to?” Trixie rolled her eyes at me. To be fair, I was considering damaging the armor that had kept me...relatively safe so far.

“It’s making me r-really uncomfortable…” I sort of trailed off, as I realized how weak that sounded as an explanation.

But it seemed to be enough for Trixie. “Ugh, whatever. Just make it quick; I don’t think the skeletons can see us in here, but I don’t want to find out for sure.”

She started to peer out the windows again, while I looked down at the sword I had drawn from my bag. What was I doing? I was no tailor, and the best I could do was stab a slit through the armor to poke my wing through. Would that be any better than keeping them safe, underneath it? I couldn’t even use them to fly.

Although…I hadn’t exactly been in much of a position to try, had I? So far I’d mostly been walking through dense forests, tight village streets, trenches, and lowlands in general. We were up in the mountains now, where I had plenty of altitude at my disposal. Maybe if I could figure out a way to practice gliding, at least, I would be able to re-learn how to fly properly?

The memory of Magnus flying up through the canopy, or swooping away into the fog, made my decision for me. I wanted to at least try and do that again, even if I couldn’t remember how. I wanted to reclaim the sky, instead of being bound to the hard earth. I drew my sword from its sheath, and spent a little while working out where I’d need to stab a slit through.

After a short process of measuring, curses, a few grunts of effort, and more measuring, I eventually started to pull the armor back on. I pushed my wings through the new slits that I’d cut, and while the one on my left side was much too short, and the one on my right far too long, it wasn’t a bad start. I tried to widen the slit on my left a bit more, but accidentally stabbed myself under the wing joint, which resulted in more cursing. It was serviceable, though, and as I put away the sword, it reminded me of something else I hadn’t checked in a while.

When I pulled my hoof from the bag, it brought the bottle of sunlight with it, and I was stunned with how heavy it was now. Nearly the whole bottle was full, and it made the room glow brightly as I peered at the fluid within. I sloshed it around a little, before my new stab wound ached a bit, and I decided to see how well it worked for myself.

I uncorked the flask and took only a sip, and my tongue crackled as though liquid lightning had rolled across the surface. The fluid never quite seemed to make it down my throat; instead it evaporated within my mouth. I could feel the warmth as it spread through me, however, and it crawled down to my side. In moments, the wound dried, clotted, and began to heal, and soon, the only sign that I had ever injured myself was the fresh bloodstain in the cloth.

The warmth faded not long after, though I felt it roll upwards, through my wings. I think it was helping me regenerate the feathers that Trixie had plucked so long ago, and maybe if I’d had more than it would have healed further, but I wanted to conserve the slowly-replenishing fluid. I could experiment with it more when I was somewhere more safe.

“Are you finished?” Trixie asked, with a hint of impatience in her voice. “I think it’s a good time to move, none of them are looking this way.”

I nodded, and drew the enchanted mace that Mistmane had given me. The weight was heavy in my hoof, and it reminded me of Zecora’s axe, though the head was even heavier. This was a weapon that was meant to be swung with the head being the center of balance, and I knew I’d get plenty of chances to practice with it.

As we emerged into the sunlight, I was slightly overcome with a sort of happiness. We were high above the fog of the dead city below, and breathing in the fresh mountain air instead. The liquid sunlight had perked me up, and I could feel the breeze through my exposed wings, while I casually swung the glowing, enchanted mace a few times for practice.

For the first time—in a long time, maybe since I had woken up—I actually felt alright. Not good; I was still riddled with aches and pains, and my throat still hurt, and I still wasn’t entirely sure what Trixie was leading me into. But for once, I didn’t feel actively terrible, and that felt like such an immense improvement that I couldn’t help but smile a bit.

It couldn’t last forever, however, as we looked over the top of the dam. A road crossed from one end to the other, and a few abandoned carts had been left along the path in terrible condition. Several of them were missing wheels, all of them were damaged by the damp air, and their contents, save for a rug or a mouldering box, had all been lost or salvaged over the years. Standing around the carts were a half-dozen skeletons, and they noticed us at just about the same time we spotted them. I could see more movement further down the length of the dam, yet more sentinels waiting in the wings; we’d have to deal with the skeletons quickly once they crossed the short distance between us, unless we wanted to be vastly overwhelmed..

As they staggered towards us, teeth chattering wildly, I noticed something unusual. The skeletons that the Necromancers had been controlling below had burning red embers, while these skeletons had embers of gold. I had no idea what that actually meant, though; perhaps it was as Mistmane had said, that these skeletons were more autonomous, to guard the dam? Hopefully that meant that whoever had enchanted their bones wouldn’t notice when we attacked them, or hadn’t noticed us already through their skeletal proxies. That was all the time I’d had to speculate, before the skeletons got within reach.

The first time that I swung the mace, I threw myself horrifically off-balance; I wasn’t used to swinging around so much weight so far from my center of mass. But the horizontal blow did exactly what it needed to, as when the glowing head of the weapon struck the leading skeleton, they died—and in spectacular fashion. Instead of simply falling apart when struck, the mace caused the dead pony to explode into a shower of bones. They scattered across the dam as glowing magic ignited across their surface, burning away the enchantments that had animated them until now.

Everything paused around me, skeleton and pony alike. I think the skeletons were re-evaluating how dangerous I was, and Trixie seemed suddenly very happy to be behind me. I looked at the mace held in my hoof once more, in shock and surprise, and found there wasn’t a scratch upon it. In fact, this was most likely the single highest-quality weapon I had ever used since my awakening.

With a hungry chatter of bones, the skeletons leapt at us once more; and more specifically at me, since they had decided that Trixie was not nearly as dangerous as I. And the thought of that power gave me a distinct, dark thrill. I was eager to meet them in combat, now.

I recalled the weight of the axe again, and how I’d needed my own body to act as a counterweight when swinging it, and that helped me keep my balance as they fell upon me. Two more skeletons fell with my second strike, as the mace cleaved through them both and reduced them merely to inert bones.

But that left me open, and the other three happily took their chance to stab at me. I felt the blade of a knife stab into my breast, and a set of teeth clamp down around my leg, while a wooden club slammed against my side.

The wounds stung, especially the knife, but I barely had to swing the mace up into the one biting my arm for their grip to loosen. They fell to pieces, as I swung the mace down into the one with the knife, and their skull shattered before it even hit the surface of the road. My mace finished the journey for them, as it banged against the stone road with a shower of sparks, and I eagerly swung it back up one last time into the ribcage of the skeleton with the club.

I dropped onto my rump, and forced myself to pant; I was getting light-headed from the exertion, unless I reminded myself to breathe. I had just slain six skeletons in the blink of an eye! I fumbled for my bag and the flask of sunlight within, but I did turn back to Trixie with an actual, manic grin on my face, as I giggled, “I r-really like this m-mace!”

“Trixie can tell, Assistant.” She said, as she eyed me warily. “Be careful where you swing that, so you don’t bash my skull in as well!”

I took a swig from the flask, which tempered my excitement slightly. Healing even the minor stab wound had depleted the bottle by almost halfway already, and anything more grievous would likely require the rest all at once. I was fine for now, but it still would be best to avoid combat, whenever possible. I stowed the bottle back in my bag, and stood up to join Trixie, who had already begun to walk down the length of the dam.

To our surprise, the rest of the dam seemed relatively clear of bones, aside from those I had most recently scattered. There were a few skeletons still stumbling around dumbly in the distance, but we wouldn’t have to worry about them for a short while. That gave me a chance to look around the top of the dam in detail, particularly our destination.

The weather factory had fallen closer to the other end of the dam, and I could see from here that it was only the uppermost section of the structure; it had been a fairly vertical building, and yet, only the top floor was above the waterline. The rest must have been submerged, and I suspected it was actually resting on the bottom of the lake entirely. That meant the prismapetrol refinery was underwater, and whatever we were searching for must have been in that uppermost section, which was where the main mixing vats were operated from. That was where clean water from Equestria below was stored, mixed, and refined into cloudbanks for use in weatherwork, before being sent to other sections of the factory—which had now broken away.

We could see a ramshackle bridge built from sheet metal and salvaged wood that connected the factory to the dam, presumably built by the Gravewardens to explore the fallen building. It looked stable enough from here, but the water below was actually of much greater interest. I walked over to the inner edge of the dam just to make sure the lighting wasn’t playing tricks on my eyes.

The entire lake was filled with that same deep, dark water that we’d seen leaking from the cracks in the dam, and heard rushing through the bottomless crevasses throughout the ruins. This was the source, or at least something within the lake was the source. I peered at it closely, but I could barely tell that there was even water there to see; it seemed almost as though the entire lake was a void in the world. It had no bottom, it had no surface, and I couldn’t see even a thin film of water atop it.

I shivered as I forced myself to pull away from it. The lake, the river, my bag, even all of our cutie marks—it was something impossible to explain, but it felt as though they were all the same all-consuming darkness. They were all the same material, the same substance, or maybe they were portals to somewhere else. Someplace deep, dark, and inky-black. They were all connected.

As I looked back, and forced myself to look beyond the bottomless lake, I could see the distant shores, a small town at the far end of the lake, and a forest that filled the rest of the valley behind. The light of the sunset just barely shined over the mountains here, leaving what must have been a small lakeside resort in a permanent shadow. The direct sunlight came to a stop on the shore opposite, almost exactly where the water lapped against the unnatrually-white beach. Aside from the terrifying lake, it looked almost like a postcard, and I imagined this valley must have been beautiful before Cloudsdale flattened it.

Trixie suddenly swore loudly, and it brought my sightseeing to a sudden end. “Oh, rut me.”

We were now much closer to the bridge, which the skeletons almost seemed to be guarding. Of those undead sentries, two had broken away and were moving towards us, or rather, rolling towards us. Two more skeletons—entangled in carriage-wheels like the one from the Exotic Weather Wing before—intended to intercept us.

While fighting or even evading the first one had been a challenge within the tilted hallways of the building before, the wide open spaces of the damtop was an entirely different environment. The two wheel skeletons rolled in parallel towards us, and both Trixie and I split up as the bonewheels sped between us. Then, we both broke into a gallop, as we tried to make it to the bridge and the factory beyond, where we wouldn't be such easy prey for the bizarre undead.

I glanced back to look at them, and immediately wished I hadn’t. The bonewheels had split up like Trixie and I had, to roll along the edges of the dam, before they turned back towards the center. Then their paths intersected, and they rolled past each other like a pair of hawks swooping after prey. In seconds, they were bearing down on us again, without ever having needed to pause and reorient themselves.

Trixie’s horn was already aglow, and phantom images were thrown backwards as diversions, or at least distractions. But for some reason, the one-way illusions didn’t seem to work on the rolling bonewheels, and they changed direction to bear down on us as if they couldn’t even see the illusions at all.

Trixie was understandably frustrated by how difficult they were to fool. “Why?! Stupid wheel skeletons, why aren’t you taking the bait?!”

There were more “normal” skeletons that had stayed to guard the bridge, but our focus was purely on the bonewheels behind us. It barely took an effort to swing the glowing mace through one that got in our way, and we simply galloped past the rest, as we leapt onto the scrap wood-and-metal construction. The whole thing creaked and groaned ominously as our hooves rang out on the metal, and the weight shifted as waves on the lake lapped against the factory.

One normal skeleton tried to give chase after us, by following us onto the bridge, but one of the bonewheels bounced and landed on them with a crunch. The other bonewheel tried the same trick, but landed wrong, and it bounced again off the bridge before it plummeted into the lake with a muted splash. Still, even the singular bonewheel was a problem, and it rolled down the bridge right behind us as we galloped for the broken balcony that would allow us access to the fallen building.

We weren’t going to make it; there simply wasn’t enough time to get to the door and slam it closed before the bonewheel would be upon us. So I turned and drew my mace, and tried to wait for a good moment to swing, but it was already too late.

The hard edge of the ancient wooden carriage-wheel slammed into my shoulder, and two skeletal hooves followed it, battering me as I sprawled backwards. The wheel never rolled over me entirely, because it didn’t have the grip, so I was subjected to being rolled on in place as it tried to grind me into dust against the ramshackle bridge.

I instantly lost my grip on the mace, but Trixie’s magical grip grabbed it before it fell into the lake, and the weapon was whipped into the side of the bonewheel a second later. My assailant exploded into a shower of bones, and the now-freed wheel bounced against the railing before it rattled to a stop.

I was left dazed on my back, as my eyes spun and my barrel burned. Again, I forced myself to inhale and exhale, but the process was so painful that I nearly gave up on it. It felt like I’d been lit on fire again, and my ribs in particular stung from the battering of abuse they had sustained in a matter of moments. No amount of cushioning provided by my armor could soften being run over like that.

More skeletal hooves clattered onto the bridge behind us, and Trixie yelled, “Get up, assistant! We don’t have time for this!”

I groaned again as I tried to roll onto my hooves, and immediately slipped on the mace, which Trixie had dropped after using it to dispose of the bonewheel. I stumbled, but stabilized after a moment, and grabbed the grip of the weapon in my teeth. Evidently, I was still being too slow for Trixie; the collar of my armor glowed, and I felt myself being dragged down the bridge after her. I flailed my hooves to try and help, but I could never quite catch my balance, and so she pulled me into the doorway mostly out of sheer panic.

The steel factory doors were slammed shut behind us, and Trixie let me fall with a clang onto the catwalk as she threw herself back against the doors, to keep them shut. A moment later, a cacophony of clanks and clatters rang out against their surface, but Trixie clearly didn’t need to strain terribly much to hold the door closed. The skeletons were many things, but they were entirely lacking in the kind of strength required to push open a barred door.

With Trixie and the skeletons occupied with fighting over their respective sides of the door, I finally had a moment to recover. While my hooves felt alright, the body they were connected to still burned, and that made me very reluctant to move them. Eventually, I was able to push them under myself as I struggled to stand, and at least managed to get myself back into a sitting position against the railing, where I could look around the interior of the factory while I waited for my body to not hurt quite as much.

The cavernous building was more akin to a subterranean grotto than anything pony-made. Light didn’t quite pierce the broken and grimy windows, but it made them glow brightly enough to make out the interior. There was no floor; only the void-black of the lake as it lapped against the interior walls of the room. The water could have been inches or miles deep, below the catwalk, but I couldn’t tell the difference when I looked down at it. Long-broken and deeply rusted machinery broke the surface, all around the room, and protruded upwards from the water like steel icebergs. The industrial catwalk ran around the edge of the room, but it seemed the only way accessible from up here was an open doorway on our left. The rest of the catwalk had fallen, or had been sheared off from the impact.

When I’d seen everything there was to be seen, I fumbled for the mace once more, and managed to shove it back into a loop of my armor to keep it safe and secure. I considered pulling out the flask of sunlight once more, but I decided it would be better to save it for a major injury while my discomfort faded. I could live with the bruising and aching for now.

After a short while, the hammering faded, although Trixie kept her back pressed against the door for quite a lot longer, before we determined that the skeletons had lost interest. She slumped against the floor, breathing heavily as she finally relaxed, and I nodded at her. “Th-thank you for p-pulling me in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved her hoof dismissively. “You’re welcome. And also heavy, for a pegasus. That fraud had the right idea, giving you the mace instead of me.”

I smiled, just a bit. It wasn’t a compliment, but it showed that Trixie still thought I was worth the effort to haul to safety. It was better than nothing. “L-looks like that d-doorway is our way f-forward,” I muttered.

Trixie nodded, though she didn’t get up. Wordlessly, we both agreed to rest for a little while longer in what seemed to be relative safety. Eventually, my pain faded, and I was the first one to stand. Trixie followed afterward a few moments later, and let out a tired groan as she checked that her hat was still secure enough on her head.

Outside, the catwalk continued, and it seemed like it had been used to connect two parts of the building via an exterior walkway. Either this was some sort of fire escape for non-pegasi, or the two rooms needed to be isolated from spills from one into the other in some way. I didn’t have any memories of walking through this building before it fell, and I suspected I hadn’t worked here. I likely knew the machines from weatherwork, as opposed to personal experience with them.

As we reached the end, another doorway loomed before us, filled with fog. I paused before we moved towards it, and looked back along the catwalk. An immense sense of deja vu came over me, and Trixie noticed the look on my face. “What?”

“Th-this is the sp-spot. This is w-where they were talking, Ap-Apple Bloom and Sweetie B-Belle.” I looked out over the lake, and it was all just like I’d seen in her memories. I could see the trees, the water, the building—it all looked exactly the same, just older and more worn away. And the colors were all long faded, a far cry from the vibrant hues that Apple Bloom had seen.

I lost myself in the stolen memories for a few moments, before I forced my mind back to the here and now. We both turned to the fog wall before us, and Trixie took the lead in pushing through into the room beyond. I followed after her, and wondered just what we’d find within, after the journey to get here.

The wall of fog in the doorway didn’t want to let us through. It fought and strained, as though we were trying to push our way through mud, and it only relented when I drew Mistmane’s glowing mace. The light from the weapon seemed to soften the fog somewhat, and allow us passage within. Our hooves crunched on the floor within, and as we walked further into the great, fallen weather factory, I held the glowing mace high for a better look at our surroundings.

This section of the building consisted of only a single, massive room, and I was fairly confident that this must have been the oldest part of the ancient factory. The rest of the complex had been built out from this central hub, downwards, upwards, and sprawling to the sides, until it had fallen from the sky. In here, I should have seen the largest industrial cloudwinder ever built, a high-power aetheric autoclave to produce the clouds, and a massive mixing vat to feed them both, not to mention the various reserve and storage vats for water input, cloud output, and aether bleed-off from the industrial process.

Instead, I saw only a sea of bones, stretching from the walls into the deep, black abyssal shadows of the dead hall.

There must have been hundreds of thousands of bones filling the room, from thousands of dead, and they rose and fell in great hills as though they had fallen like snow. The greatest slopes reached up to the steel rafters, and they blocked the tall windows on the side that should have let faded sunlight illuminate the room. Even as I watched, the building shifted from the rhythm of the lake’s waves outside, and a scattering of bones rolled from the top of one of those slopes. They rolled all the way down, knocking skulls and femurs and bits of spine loose, like a landslide of hollow bones, until they slid to a stop a few leg-lengths from our light.

Trixie took the lead, with her horn coming alight in a projected beam that she swept across the room, and I followed her, mind dull from shock. I had already seen so many bones, so many dead, in the broken valley below. How many more were here? There were so many bones that we were only walking across the top layer. I felt them shift and compact and splinter as we struggled across the sharp, dusty surface. How deep had this room been originally? How much was now filled with the discarded bones of the dead?

Where had they come from? They couldn’t have all died in here, there simply wasn’t enough room. They had to have come after Cloudsdale had fallen. Was this where the Gravewardens interred their dead, to be thrown atop the pile? But nothing could decay now, and the dead were restless, so all that would accomplish would be to trap the Hollows in this room. And we were the only living creatures in the room that we could find—or as least as alive as an Undead could be. Maybe they simply stored all of the skeletons they cleaned off the streets in here? But then, they would keep coming up here for replacements, surely. That elevator was meant for ponies, not cargo.

Trixie’s light wavered, and I felt her shiver. I think she was just as unsettled as I was by the sheer amount of dead, but she did a much better job of hiding it. Perhaps she could ignore the surface we walked across, or pretend that it was just broken stone and gravel. But I couldn’t keep myself from shuddering in disgust and fear every time my hoof cracked a rib, or crushed a skull under my weight. So many dead, left in this great hall until they were ground into dust by their own weight. What a horrible thing to let happen to a single pony’s corpse, let alone a thousand.

“It has to be in here,” Trixie muttered to herself. “It has to be out in the open, and obvious. Because I am not going to start digging in here…”

I turned back to the door, but we had left it behind. The fog was too thick to allow the sunlight through, and so it had been lost to the shadows as we moved deeper into the room. Without that, we were only two points of light in a room so huge that we couldn’t see the walls from where we were. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness was pushing inwards, crushing our light down into a smaller and smaller pool of safety, the deeper we went.

It felt oppressive. Like we were drowning in it. I swore I saw things moving in the dark, black on black in the shadows, and I held the mace up to force the light just a little bit further out. All I revealed were bones and deeper darkness that the light had not the strength to penetrate.

We had been walking too long. We should have seen the opposite wall by now—we should be beyond it, over the lake. But the room continued, and so did the valleys of bone. Only the rafters above served as reminders that we were still in a pony-made structure, and even those were getting harder to see as our lights dimmed. Were those supports made of steel, or were they made of bone as well, masquerading as metal? Had we descended under the surface of the lake? What lurked within, and were we about to rouse it from its abyssal slumber?

At the edge of my hearing came a noise, but the sound was...wrong. Twisted, in some way. It was more akin to silence than a real noise, like some form of anti-sound. It was the rocking of the waves against the hull of a ship; it was the slow, incessant patter of the rain against the ground. It was the hum of distant, unseen machinery; it was a conversation where you couldn’t make out the words, but heard the indistinct voices.

It was the heartsong of the Gravewardens. Here, in this place, I could hear it. And I knew that what they sang was not the true song, but a pale imitation of what they had heard here, for no pony, living or undead, could recreate this song. Only the slow groan of the formless, numberless dead could sing what we now heard. The song of empty void, of loss and death and decay, of cold infinity, and the spaces between spaces.

I wish it wasn’t so damnably comforting. I wish it horrified me, made me panic and flee. But it was almost hypnotizing, and the crunching of our hooves as we continued onward faded as the song drowned it all out.

It was so tempting to join them. To lay down and bury myself in the bones of the dead, until I joined them, and we were one.

“Hey. Up ahead.”

Trixie’s voice pierced my reverie, and I shook myself awake. ”Wh-wha?”

She pointed with the light from her horn, and it focused on a pile of bones that stood out from the rest. It was too sharp a form to have formed naturally, and I knew it could have been no normal pile of bones. Even as we watched, it seemed to shiver slightly, as Trixie’s light shined across it. Surrounding it were dozens of skeletons, all bowed to the mass of bone, as if they had been frozen in time and died in that pose—but as Trixie’s light shined across them, they started to crumble and collapse, until their bones crumbled and collapsed to join the carpet below.

As the smaller masses of bones dispersed, the central pile of bones shifted. They seemed to be a single creature, and I stared at it for longer than I care to admit, as I tried to see patterns and shapes in the form. It was only when the eyes ignited—two golden embers that pierced through the darkness—that I could start to understand the creature’s anatomy.

Those golden eyes were housed in sockets made of bone, but the bones they were made of were not the skull of a pony. They seemed to reside within a skull made from skulls, as though the bones themselves had been sculpted into a face for the embers to occupy. Above the eyes, there protruded a horn, but instead of being smooth, it was formed from splinters of bone, packed and compressed into the conical mass that would have signified a unicorn. The body ground and shifted, and the bone dust that had sealed the empty spaces within fell like powder back into the carpet of dead below. More bones shifted, and I realized I was looking at a shoulder, which extended down a leg, into...a claw? And grasped within that claw, a bright little glimmer of light. The claw closed around the light as the creature clutched the glimmer to its breast protectively, but I could still see the glow through the bones of its fingers.

The jaw shifted and ground against the bones from which it had formed, and it twitched and chattered in a hollow mockery of speech. The song of the Gravewardens continued, but now there was a new tone, a new addition to the unseen chorus. I strained to listen to the noise, to understand what was said, as sound rolled through the air like the distant rumble of thunder.

There were words. It was speaking, and I could only just barely understand. Like an unending death rattle, it wasn’t formed by tongues and lungs, but air involuntarily forced through a throat, or a thousand throats, where it rumbled against bone and teeth. It was disturbingly similar to how I’d spoken my first words, all the way back in that bookstore, so long ago.

“Kkk-kkk-kkk-kinnn?”

Trixie’s ears perked up, as we both strained to listen, strained to understand.

“B-beee yyyooouuu kkk-kinnn? Sssiiisss-terrr orrr sssuuuppli-cant...?”

The syllables were too long, too drawn-out; they were barely more than a susurrus of wind passing through the room, and whistling through the bones within. The words of a ghost, or a legion of ghosts. But if I joined the song, and spoke with the voice as well, then they shortened. If the voice came through my own lips, then I could understand. And so we spoke as one, so that I could learn the meaning in what I said.

“The ch-children have been r-restless...in my s-sister’s absence...”

Trixie looked at me like I was insane, as my mouth spoke for the great dead one. Maybe I was.

“Is that you, s-sister? Or another s-supplicant child, come to s-see their so-called Gravelord?”

“Gravelord?” Trixie repeated, no louder than a faint whisper. I still saw the creature’s ears, formed from bonedust, shift towards her to listen. It had heard even that. “Is that what this thing is?”

“You r-recognize me not…” I groaned in curiosity and interest. “Then I d-doubt you be k-kin…why have you c-come?”

Trixie shook her head with a whinny of confusion. “Enough games! I don’t know what you’ve done to my assistant, but I am the Great and Powerful Trixie, and Trixie shall not be bewitched!”

“Tr-tr-tr-Trixie…” I repeated, and the name seemed to roll over my tongue, as if I were tasting it. “I r-recognize that n-name...I remember you…”

“Then you know why Trixie has come!” She declared, and focused her light on the Gravelord’s face. It turned from the light, as though pained by it, and Trixie grinned. “Whatever power animates your undead legions, and earns the worship of the necromancers below—Trixie has come to take it for herself!”

“Tr-Trixie…Lulamoon...” I muttered, and I felt the words grow more intense as I spoke. “Showmare...braggart...fool...madmare...thief...”

The Gravelord leaned forward, and began to grow in size. The claw that clutched the glowing light continued to do so as the creature stood, and more legs seemed to emerge from under the carpet of bones—or perhaps they were created in that moment, pulled from the piles and molded into the legs the beast needed. It slowly stood, and loomed over us as though the light from my mace was just enough to keep it from falling upon us and crushing us under its weight, in a tide of bone. From the Gravelord’s back came two more skeletal protuberances, that peeled away like the wings of an insect—an apt comparison, because as they began to split and separate into two parallel sets of humerus, radius, ulna, then further. They split apart into thin webbings of bone, and I began to see primaries and secondaries; feathers, molded from the formless dead that the creature had been formed from.

This was no beast, no creature, not even a ghost or pony—what had emerged before us was nothing less than a massive goddess created from bone and dust. An Alicorn of the dead. I knew now why my lips had named it “Gravelord,” and why the necromancers below worshipped this place, and the devastation that had occurred within this valley.

Trixie faltered as the Gravelord began to tower over her. “Err, although Trixie is, perhaps, willing to haggle instead-”

“This is no tomb for you to plunder, foal,” my lips growled. “This is a resting place...cold, dark, and gentle, for my children...those for whom their rest has been stolen...but if you will not let them rest...then I must teach you how.”

A massive hoof made of a thousand bones lifted above us, and I could see that the Gravelord intended to crush us flat. The time for talk was over, but I could still feel the rumble of the Gravelord’s song burbling through my throat, even as we readied for battle. Trixie canceled her light spell to charge up offensive magic instead, and we scattered to the sides as the Gravelord’s hoof slammed down into the carpet of bones where we had stood only moments before.

“Hit it!” Trixie shrieked from the other side of the alicorn’s limb. “Hit it until it dies!”

Flashes of light pushed back the darkness around us for a split-second at a time, as Trixie began firing magic wildly at the Gravelord. I joined her, and grabbed my mace in both hooves before I slammed it into the side of the massive leg as hard as I could.

I knew it would do some damage, judging by how it scattered the skeletons outside like matchsticks, but the mace’s enchantment was somewhat underwhelming in comparison to that. While it did seem to make the point of contact explode into a shower of powder, it only served to blast a crater into the side of the limb a little larger than my head. It did damage, and no small amount, but it would take a great many more hits just like that to fell this dead god.

But it did do one thing; it hurt the Gravelord. It howled like wind rushing through the skulls of the dead, and my own throat burned as I let out an involuntary screech. The giant hoof jerked back in pain, and I saw those massive, burning gold eyes turn on me. I was now the higher priority, while Trixie’s fireworks were little more than an annoyance. That massive bone-white horn burned with black fire, which completely failed to illuminate the dark room, and I turned tail to flee.

I didn’t see the spells as they were launched at me, but I could feel the cold magic as it blew apart the carpet of bones just behind my hooves. Broken fragments flew like shrapnel around me as I was showered with deadly magic, and It was only a combination of my own clumsiness on the sharp, uneven terrain and a decent amount of luck that kept me from getting blasted to pieces. I managed to find cover behind a low embankment of bone, and I clutched the glowing mace to my chest as I wheezed through my aching throat.

Suddenly, the bones under me shifted. The embankment flexed like the waves of an ocean, and they forced themselves under me. I was flung high into the air, and the world spun as my wings snapped open on instinct. That stabilized my tumble, and while I knew I didn’t have enough room to fly, or even glide, I could direct my fall a little bit. My wings burned with strain, unused to such exercise after being left to atrophy for so long, but I tilted towards the Gravelord in hopes of ending up behind it.

Even that was unattainable; I slammed into the sharp, dusty surface of bones just to the side of our opponent, and my wing exploded in pain. I shrieked again, but this time the pain was my own, and I lost my grip on the mace. It tumbled away and bounced out of reach, and I couldn’t focus enough to grab for it before it was gone.

My wing was broken, I knew in an instant. It hurt to even think about moving it, and it had been fully extended when I slammed into the ground. That thought dominated my mind and kept me from trying to move, because some deep memory screamed at me that I needed to keep as still as I could until somepony came to help me first aid. But I knew that we didn’t have time for that, not during this fight, and even if we did, then nopony would be coming to tend to our wounds. So I laid there, and made pained noises and whimpers, and waited for the Gravelord to stomp me flat and finish me off.

But it never happened; I could hear the grinding of bones and the detonations of Trixie’s fireworks, and my own throat continued to snarl and clatter in anger, but it seemed that the Gravelord was satisfied with my incapacitation. I was left alone, to whimper and bleed into the dust. And when I managed to open my eyes, I saw the glowing mace, where it laid in a pool of light and a crater in the floor.

I had to get it, and I had to help Trixie. She was holding it off, but I was pretty sure that she couldn’t do any real damage to the Gravelord with her spells. Maybe she could stun it, but nothing that would end this fight. I groaned sharply in pain again, as I forced my limbs to move, and agony pierced my side as my broken wing dragged across the carpet of bones.

It took more than I thought I had to crawl only a few leg-lengths to the shallow crater. I could hear Trixie shouting, sometimes obscenities at the Gravelord or at me, and sometimes asking where I was in an increasingly-panicked tone. I could hear the Gravelord responding, using my tongue and throat, forcing air out of my lungs, but I didn’t understand the words. When I reached the crater and pulled the mace back towards myself, I hugged it to my barrel protectively, and felt the bones under me rumble.

Gold eyes turned to face me, and I knew I didn’t have the strength to stand, to dodge the blow that was coming. Everything was pain, whether wet and hot from my broken wing, or cold and dull from the ends of my limbs. I fought against that feeling as hard as I could, and grasped for my fire. I didn’t want to die again, because I was so afraid that if I died here, I wouldn’t be coming back.

That fear charged my fire, and I felt warmth at the end of my hoof. My pyromancy swelled, and I threw the impossibly-heavy ball of flame at the Gravelord as it bore down on me. It wasn’t far, and it barely left my hoof, but as two massive skeletal legs slammed down on either side of me to pin me in, it was as far as it needed to go.

The fire flared, and heat erupted around me in a series of booming detonations. I saw the flashes of magma, and closed my eyes lest I be blinded, but I could still feel the bones rumble around with every blast. They slammed into the hooves of the Gravelord, and the explosions stunned it over and over as the fire burned it. The Gravelord howled through my lungs, and the ground rumbled one final time as it staggered backwards, blasted and burned from my desperate defence.

“Yes! Nice strike, Assistant!” I felt Trixie yank me to my hooves, and I felt nauseous as the world spun around me. My wing limply swung back and forth, and I felt the broken bones within all grind against each other, but I was standing now, with Mistmane’s mace clutched to my breast. For a moment, I looked up at the wounded Gravelord, and couldn’t shake the thought that it was doing the same with that strange little light.

The dead god didn’t stay stunned for long. I was leaning heavily against Trixie, and had only just regained my balance, by the time the Gravelord pulled itself back up into a standing position. Before, it had held itself in a regal manner, in a way that had commanded worship and respect. But now that I had wounded it with my fire—blackened the bones it was formed from, with the heat of my fear—it seemed all pretense of nobility or elegance had been discarded. Its legs twitched like those of an angry spider, and the Gravelord’s massive skull twitched madly as those giant golden embers focused on us.

It wasted no time trying to smash us with its skeletal hooves—instead, it spread its wings wide,  and they stabbed at us like fans of bone. We barely dodged away from the razor-sharp tips, and the false feathers between were pulverized as they slammed into the carpet. They erupted into clouds of dust, while the limb moved much faster, now that it had shed the unnecessary weight. Now, all that remained was a wickedly sharp broken phalanx at the end of the wing, which stabbed at us like the legs of a spider. But with two of them, they were even harder to dodge, and I shoved Trixie away when both of them came down where we had stood only a moment ago. They were uncannily similar to knitting needles made of bone, as they clicked and stabbed and tried to catch us between them for an easy kill.

I was already beginning to tire, and my broken wing burned like no pain I’d felt before. I couldn’t rest and let it heal, not until we had killed the Gravelord and escaped. Thankfully, Trixie took its attention once more, when a lucky bolt of magic lanced into the dead god’s eye.

There was a loud bang and a shower of dust, and Trixie crowed happily as the Gravelord staggered. “Yes! And Trixie has as many more as it will take to-”

I screeched, and the razor-sharp tip stabbed down out of the darkness. It was aimed for Trixie’s head, to stab through her skull and end her in a single blow, but lacking an eye made the strike go wide. Trixie was still struck, and it pierced through her armor and pinned her to the floor. But it went through her torso instead of her head, and so it only brought her to the brink of death, instead of ending her outright. Trixie gasped as blood gushed from her mouth, and her belly slammed against the floor with a crunch.

That got me moving. I galloped past the other wing as it stabbed wildly for me, and only stopped when it came down a hoof-length from my muzzle. That was too good an opportunity to pass up, and so I slammed the head of the enchanted mace into the side of the thin limb.

Just like before, it exploded into bone dust on contact, and the weight of the Gravelord was suddenly thrown off balance as the remaining length of the broken limb slammed into the carpet instead. My lips let out another howl of pain as we shared the pain of a shattered wing, and I broke back into a gallop as the Gravelord reeled and fell on it’s side, then began to flail in panic and pain.

Trixie was yanked back up and out of the floor, before she slipped from the end of the blood-spattered wing. She flopped onto the floor, and I tumbled to a stop before her, already reaching into my bottomless bag. The flask of sunlight leapt to my hooves, and while I considered downing the rest to heal my wing, Trixie was in much more danger. I uncorked the stopper and poured the glowing liquid across her body, and she let out a gasp, then started to cough out more blood as her wounds sealed.

There was more left, but I didn’t have time to use it, and so I had to drop the bottle into Trixie’s hooves so that I could draw my mace and face the enemy once more. Only...the Gravelord seemed just as confused as I was, and we stared at each other for a moment, with neither moving. For some reason, it seemed fixated on the flask of sunlight, and Trixie lying on the ground under me, while I stood over the wounded mare protectively.

But it only lasted a moment. My lips moved to let out a snarl, and this time, both the Gravelord and I were in agreement. I galloped directly at its head while it struggled to stand, and I tossed the mace into my mouth so that I could move at full speed. It was still lying on its side, and it seemed like its head was too heavy to lift. Instead, it seemed to be focused on using its horn to fire magic at me, but with one eye, the Gravelord’s aim was even worse than before. That glowing horn made a decent target, and so I swung the mace in my teeth as I bore down on my foe, and brought the glowing head to bear at the base, where it was connected to the Gravelord’s skull.

There was an incredibly loud bang, and I was thrown backwards as a wave of black fire exploded outwards. I expected to feel my thin fur ignite, and I expected pain, but it wasn’t more than a wave of heat. It was more force than anything else, a last-second desperate effort to push me back. I felt my lips open as if to cry out, but no sound emerged, and I heard the song of the Gravelord grow quiet, though it didn’t fade out entirely. My tongue was wholly my own, once more.

When I stood again, the Gravelord had not moved. One leg still clutched the glimmer of light to its breast, and the other was held between us as if to protect its face. But I’d come too far to stop now. I staggered closer, and a forceful smack from the mace caused the hoof to go limp, exposing the Gravelord’s massive head. The lone, burning golden ember focused on me, and I stumbled towards it as a feral growl rumbled out around the grip of the mace. The dead god’s jaw worked as if talking, but no sound emerged, and it had nowhere to run as I slammed the mace into the remaining eye socket.

The remaining ember winked out as dust exploded out around me, and I could taste the dried marrow on my tongue. But I was not deterred, and swung the mace again at the same spot. I’d stand here and smash the entire thing’s body to powder if I had to, all by myself.

The Gravelord’s body convulsed as it tried to fight, tried to escape, but it was blind, and crippled. The remaining wing flailed like a dying spider, and as I smashed the enchanted mace and dug deeper into the giant alicorn’s skull, it fell to the ground and grew still.

A few more strikes was all that was needed to truly kill the Gravelord, and the rest of the skull began to collapse back into loose bones and the dust that had glued the massive body together a few moments later. I stepped back to watch as the creature crumbled, and a satisfied feeling of victory swept over me.

We had won. Trixie and I, we had fought this massive monster with nothing but her magic and Mistmane’s enchanted mace, and we had won. We were going to survive this day.

As I reveled in the feeling, I noticed the leg that clutched whatever glowed within that strange claw, and how it was trembling once more. I staggered over to inspect it, but the breast it was pressed against collapsed first, and fell away. At first, I thought it was just revealing one of the ribcages or bones that had formed the Gravelord’s internal skeleton, but something within the breast moved. I held the mace up, just in case, but it wasn’t necessary. The light helped me see, however.

Within the Gravelord’s breast, there seemed to be a mare, but she was made out of the same crumbling bonedust as the rest of the dead god. She had been a unicorn, and while she looked as though she’d been pretty once, this imitation of how she must have looked before was desiccated, as though starved. Just like a Hollow, but one made of dust instead of flesh. She had no embers for eyes, only empty sockets, and her mouth trembled as lips made of dust peeled apart. Her form shook and shed more dust as she slowly extended her hoof towards the crumbling claw before her, and took the glowing light from within. Then she clutched it to her own breast, and I had to lean in to hear her as she spoke.

“Sw-Sweetie B-Belle? Is th-that you?”

I tried to talk, but I couldn’t find the words, and the bone dust from the crumbling corpse around us lined my mouth with chalk.

“I’m s-sorry you had to s-see me l-like this…” She murmured. “It’s b-been a v-very long t-time, has-hasn’t it?”

I nodded, and somehow, the mare knew. “I th-thought so...b-but that’s g-good...that m-means that it w-worked...that you r-received my g-gift...that ev-everypony received my g-gift...”

“G-gift?” I croaked.

The mare smiled, and more dust rolled down her form. “I c-couldn’t keep it all t-to myself, d-darling...Y-you know m-me...I had to sh-share it…”

She gently reached forward with one hoof, and I let her gently touch my jaw, then slowly pull me in. She tilted her head forward, until our foreheads touched. She felt cold and dusty to the touch, and a layer of her stained my brow. But feeling me gave the dead, blind mare comfort. “I’m s-sorry for l-leaving you all al-alone, Sweetie B-Belle...b-but it’s g-good you f-found me...I’ve one l-last gift to g-give...just f-for you…”

Her hoof took my own, and she pulled it into her other hoof, as I felt something metal pressed against it. Whatever it was, I took it in my own hooves, and felt hers grow limp. “L-live for me, Sw-Sweetie B-Belle...s-so pr-proud of you...and s-so happy...th-that all of our l-little ponies g-get to l-live f-forever…”

“W-what…?” I managed to croak.

The mare smiled, and leaned back in the crumbling cavity of the Gravelord. Her hooves trembled and grew still, before they began to crumble into dust that glowed like my mace, like the flask of sunlight, like the sunset over Equestria. “I l-love...love you...Sw-Sweetie B…”

She didn’t have the strength to finish her goodbye. Instead, she trailed off as the last remnants of the mysterious mare dissolved. For just a moment, she grew so bright that I couldn’t look at her, and I had to avert my eyes; when I looked back, she was gone, and the glowing dust was fading away, to join the rest of the dust and bones that carpeted this great, empty room.

After a few moments, I looked down at my hoof—at the gift she’d given me, intended for somepony else that I’d never even met. It was a scratched and tarnished golden necklace, old and worn. It looked like it had been intricately carved once, but those carvings were obscured now by all the scratches and damage on the surface. But the centerpiece still remained: a beautiful purple jewel, set into the necklace, which faintly glowed. When I closed my eyes, I could feel it, which meant that it was no magic, but the fire of a soul, trapped within the gem.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a horrific mistake.

I stood there for a while, as I stared at the necklace and thought about everything I’d seen on the way here. I was still thinking about it when Trixie approached from behind, and thrust the empty flask into my face. “Here, you can have this back. Whatcha got there?”

I blinked at Trixie as she plucked the golden necklace from my hoof, and looked at it in the light of her horn. With shaking hooves, I took the now-empty sunlight flask, and slid it safely back into my bottomless bag. “I...I th-think-”

“That this is what we came here for? It certainly fits the bill, though it doesn’t feel as powerful as I thought it would. Hm.” Trixie closed her eyes as she felt at it with her pyromancy, before she raised her eyebrows. “Oh, wait, this is...huh...there’s a soul in here…did you find this inside the big bastard?”

“Y-yes, but there w-was-” Trixie’s hooves took on a bright glow, and I realized what she was doing moments too late. “Wait, d-don’t-!”

A trickle of pink smoke curled upwards out of the jewel, and Trixie absorbed it before I could stop her. She froze suddenly, and went stock-still for a moment as the soul within the jewel washed over her.

When I grabbed Trixie, she seemed to snap out of it, and looked back down at the necklace, before she made a quiet “Oh.” Then again, a bit louder. “Oh! Ohhhhh. Hm.”

I wanted to cry, but I pushed it down. It was too late now. The jewel was cold and inert, drained of the soul that had remained within until we’d stolen it. “W-what did you s-see?”

“I saw…” Trixie trailed off, and looked down at the necklace again. Then she glanced around the dark interior of the building. “I saw…I see now…”

I shook her again. “W-what did you see, Trixie? P-please…”

She smirked, and when she looked at me, she seemed slightly unfocused. As if she were looking through me, instead. “I see how powerful this is now...where this power came from. And if it only took this little smidgen to do everything here…”

Suddenly, she shook me off of her, and stuffed the necklace into her hat. As she slapped the hat back onto her head, she waved a hoof. “Come along! Trixie has a real show to put on, and you’re going to help her, Assistant!”

She galloped off into the darkness, and didn’t even bother to light up the way before her. I nearly lost her as she disappeared into the dark, but I gave chase a moment later, and managed to follow the crunches of her hooves as her hooves hammered against the carpet of bones. I finally caught up to her, and we were both panting and wheezing in exhaustion as we reached the dark wall of fog that insulated this room from the world outside.

Trixie was already pushing through it, and I had to struggle after her. “Tr-Trixie, wait!”

“There’s no time to wait, Assistant!” Trixie said, with a manic giggle from the other side of the fog wall.

I forced my head through just as Trixie pulled her hinds loose. “Tr-Trixie, what are you t-talking about? Pl-please! Tell me w-what you saw, w-where you’re g-going!”

“We have a new goal, assistant. The bumpkin is a small fry by comparison!” Trixie grinned eagerly, as her hooves beat out an excited rhythm on the catwalk. “With this sort of power, Trixie can finally do something that has been a very long time coming!”

The rest of my body followed through the fog wall, and my broken wing ached as I dragged it out. “W-what’s that?”

Trixie cackled to herself madly. “Trixie can finally take her revenge, Assistant. She can find that foalish Twilight Sparkle, and make her pay for everything she has done to the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

I gaped at her like a fish. “Wha...who?”

Trixie was already beginning to eagerly pace down the catwalk towards the main building. “Then what…then Starlight! Starlight must see this too, that will finally impress her. She will finally see how Great and Powerful Trixie is, and she will beg to join her and abandon this stupid wild goose chase that Twilight sent her on-”

“W-what are you talking about?” I whinnied in confusion as I galloped along the catwalk to catch up to her. “I don’t w-want revenge? I d-didn’t want to do any of...this! W-we did s-something really b-bad in there, I th-think, and I wanted to help D-Dinky get free, and h-help you get your w-wagon! You k-keep changing your mind-”

“Neighsayer!” Trixie barked suddenly, and I stumbled back against the railing in shock. “That’s all you are! Another neighsayer, and you’ve come to humiliate Trixie! That’s all you’ve ever been! I should have known from the start, you’ve only ever cared about yourself!”

“W-what-” I didn’t understand any of this—Trixie’s personality had changed in a second! I’d gone from being her best friend to her worst enemy, just by asking her to slow down and explain things!

“Well, Trixie knows what to do with Neighsayers!” She let out a snarl, as she ducked her head low, and bared her teeth at me. I tried to move away, but I bumped into the railing again—which Trixie took advantage of. She spun around on her fores, and I saw a flash of her hinds as she whipped them towards my breast.

Trixie kicked me, and I felt the air leave my lungs as the impact slammed me off-balance, over the railing. The world spun as I tumbled, and I saw a flash of Trixie, grinning over the edge at me as I fell. Then my back slammed into the abyssal water of the lake with a teeth-shattering splash, and all went black as I sunk below the surface.