//------------------------------// // 44. Paisley, stripes, and polka dots… // Story: The Tale of Lord Barleycorn // by Blue Cultist //------------------------------// The Tale of Lord Barleycorn - - - - - - Chapter 44: Paisley, stripes, and polka dots… --- As far as Harvest Moon was concerned, clearing the fields was much easier than sowing them. A simple yank and an entire dead, dry plant was uprooted and tossed in a pile, ready to be discarded. It was just the distraction that Harvest Moon needed right now. Ever since her darling daughter had started feeling sick she had been worried as any good mother would. She had simply expected this to be just another cold, something that could pass with her usual remedies and perhaps something from the doctor. Cherry said he needed a little time to confirm his suspicions about Corn Crib. Even the few minutes Harvest Moon had patiently waited had been too much for her. Every moment that passed in the hallway outside her daughter’s room had spawned a dozen horrible scenarios that all resulted in her daughter being bedridden for life, or worse. So it was that the mother of two was in the field, occupying her mind with the long list of things that needed to be done. Right now dead plants were a perfect target for her unsteady nerves. She had filled and emptied her cart several times, dumping the remnants of the crops she had cared for all summer near the edge of the forest. Harvest Moon ignored the weariness in her muscles as she looked out across the fields. She wasn’t sure how long it had been but she had somehow managed to achieve something akin to peace of mind. The stream had surged in the night, washing away part of the embankment. More clay would be needed to prevent it from flooding the southern corner of the field in the spring. The barn had a few loose boards that were starting to warp from being exposed to the elements and would need replacing.  More disturbingly, something had clearly been digging in the field while the family had been focused on selling their wares. Deep holes had been dug in the soil, which Leadfoot was currently filling in with a shovel as his mother had asked. It was likely groundhogs which was some cause for concern. The pests were infamous for digging under the foundations of houses and barns, and given enough time could be responsible for incredible structural damage. One neglected farmhouse on the other side of town, long abandoned was leaning heavily, having slipped off its foundation and sitting directly on the mud, causing one whole wall to warp and buckle. The last thing Harvest Moon needed was the idea that her home could have such vermin seeking to move in. The sound of the screen door clattering shut was like a splash of cold water, and all at once, Harvest Moon’s hastily constructed web of distractions fell away. Her eyes were quickly drawn to the farmhouse, and all other sounds seemed to drop away as she strained to listen for what may be happening on her front porch. Upon hearing the sound of hooves on the wooden steps, she left her cart where it stood and began a fast trot to the house. Already she could hear the sounds of a conversation-- her husband and the doctor. The words were too soft to hear clearly at this distance, but something in the way her husband was speaking made her hasten to a light gallop. The doctor had already started down the road by the time Harvest Moon arrived at her front porch. Her husband was sitting on the steps, slowly rubbing his face with both forehooves as if he was soothing a terrible headache. He was so distracted that Summer hadn’t noticed her approach. All the worst possible outcomes, all the worrying that Harvest Moon had been staving off with her work in the fields came rushing back to her. A part of her didn’t want to know what had been said, but at the same time, she had no choice for the sake of her youngest child. The sound of her hooves on the stone walkway got Summer Harvest to drop his forelegs, but he only glanced at her before he looked away. He said nothing, even as Harvest Moon climbed up to sit by his side. There was none of his usual intensity--just a sense of defeated frustration that only a long-time spouse would notice in the way Summer carried his withers and hung his head. He wasn’t an easy stallion to love, but she had never known one that tried harder to make something work than Summer Harvest. She matched his silence, giving him time to find his voice. She didn’t patronize him by fawning over him or nuzzling him to cheer him up. She patiently waited, knowing that just being near him was one of Summer’s greatest comforts. Finally, after he’d relaxed Summer broke the silence, “You don’t need to clear the fields, there’s no need.” “What?” Harvest Moon turned her head, shocked to hear her workaholic husband say a task didn’t need to be done. “I saw you were out clearing the fields while the doc explained everything.” Said Summer, “There’s no pill or shot that’ll fix this. Gotta be surgery, and soon.” The way Summer spoke was a statement of fact, but there was a distinct warble in his voice that told Harvest Moon that his stoicism was just a facade. The news about her daughter’s needs wasn’t a surprise. If anything she was mildly relieved that there was a path to recovery for Corn Crib, and that it wasn’t as hopeless as her overactive mind liked to imagine. “How… how bad is it?” She asked, fully knowing her husband’s lack of knowledge of medicine but as a mother it was a question that had to be asked. “Bad. Something wrong in her gut.” Was her husband’s quiet explanation. “Did he say how this could have happened?” Harvest Moon asked. Summer glanced over at his wife. He and the doctor had discussed the matter long at hoof, and although he hadn’t grasped all that medical jargon, one detail had lept out at the farmer. When Summer had asked how his youngest foal could have come down with this illness, Cherry gave an extensive list of what could have been this malady’s genesis. It was just another ‘what if’ to Cherry, but it dreadfully clicked in Summer’s mind. How poor nutrition, certain plants, and fungus, or even just rapid shifts in diet could upset a pony’s supposedly delicate stomach.  The family had been dining on very meager meals for a year now, and nearly all the money had been going toward meeting the bank’s deadline. They’d all been avoiding the restaurants, thinking they could finally celebrate when the family was out of the red. Except for Corn Crib. She’d been allowed to get a few things from Tablecloth’s several times. It wasn’t necessarily the cause, Summer knew he’d never be able to prove it one way or another but it was very likely that his wife’s foraging or allowing the filly to eat so much pie could have made their daughter so gravely ill.  Regardless of if this being the case or not, he knew Harvest Moon would attempt to shoulder all the blame. Therefore Summer Harvest resolved to take this information to his grave. Summer shook his head, “He said a lotta things could have caused it, but it doesn't matter how it happened. Corn Crib’s sick, and she’s gonna get the help she needs. I already told the doc to arrange transport to Ponyville hospital in the morning.” The umber-brown mare was surprised, “Cherry can’t do it himself?” “He said something about how he’d need another trained pony to help do it.” Summer raised an eyebrow, “But, would you really want him to do it?” Harvest Moon’s answer was as immediate as it was blunt, “No.” The sentiment was shared by Summer, who glanced down at the new scar that ran down his leg. The doctor had done a good job stitching the wound closed and the fur was growing back to cover it up, but he shuddered to think of how it would have gone if the doctor had been called in the middle of one of his drinking sessions. Few talked about it, but there were a few horror stories about how Cherry was less gentle than usual after he’d had a nip or two. If the matter had been life or death… Cherry didn’t inspire confidence in his abilities. “But, frankly I wish he would.” Summer said. This surprised his wife, who turned her head to look at Summer, “What?” Summer sighed, wishing he hadn’t said that out loud. “I’m not comfortable with him operating on our baby girl, but from the way he explained it, this has gotta be done as soon as possible, and jostling her around on a long cart ride ain’t good for her.” Summer didn’t want to tell her that one hard shake could rupture his youngest foal’s inflamed innards. To even say something like that out loud was like inviting it to happen. “No, I can’t imagine it would.” Harvest Moon let out a worried snort, “Did… he happen to say how much this procedure might cost?” The color in Summer’s face faded a little as he fixed his gaze on the ground, and when he spoke his voice was as hollow as a drum. “Enough that you don’t have to worry about the fields.” For Harvest Moon, it was like the bottom had dropped out from under her. The threat of losing either of her children was as frightful as it could get, but she had believed that their home was safe and secure. She’d believed that the spirits had risen to aid her family in a time of need like the old stories and yet…  “What… what are we going to do?” Harvest Moon shuddered, beginning to imagine wholly new potential calamities. “Corn Crib is going to get what she needs.” Summer said simply, his confidence in the matter caused his wife to cease her fretting and look up at him, “I’ve tried to keep this place, but if the choice is between our home and our foal’s life then there’s no contest.” Harvest Moon knew that could not have been an easy thing for Summer to say. He loved this farm, warts and all. He had once told her he could tell her a story from his colthood days about any square yard of the farm and she believed him. This farm wasn’t just a livelihood, it was a temple to every happy memory he had. Yet even with the certainty, he projected Harvest Moon knew he was just as torn up as she was. He’d been just as optimistic about paying off their debt and getting out of this financial limbo. Now she nuzzled him, allowing him to pull her into a hug as they sat on the porch. They would need a few minutes to find the strength to pull away. --- Carrot Top pulled her ear away from the door and let out the breath she’d been holding. It felt like she was making a habit of eavesdropping. Earlier she had been in the house when the doctor arrived to discuss Corn Crib’s condition and had chosen to just stand quietly in the kitchen while the two stallions talked. She had reasoned it would have been awkward to just walk out and reveal that she’d heard everything, so she had stayed silent. Something in the conversation between Summer and Harvest Moon had caused the old farmhouse to go incredibly silent like it too was listening intently to the foal’s life-concerning condition. A shiver went up Carrot Top’s back and she looked around the empty foyer. She found nothing but the same eerie silence and she didn’t like it. It made her feel like maybe one of the spooks that had threatened Jack was lurking about the house, watching her. The click of the door made the carrot farmer jump and back away, hastily feigning surprise as if she had just entered the room. Harvest Moon stepped inside and noticed her, but didn’t seem particularly interested in her cousin-by-marriage. “I was just going back out, Leadfoot still filling those holes?” It was a quick lie, but Carrot Top hoped it would be buried under the prospect of yet more manual labor. “He should be done by now.” Harvest Moon said simply before fixing her attention on Carrot Top, “And you should know that floorboard near the door extends out onto the porch. It’s got this unique squeak to it that you only really notice when you’re on the other side of the door.” Carrot Top grimaced, thinking she was caught but saw the grin on Harvest Moon’s face. There was no squeaking floorboard. “I can’t believe I fell for that.” Groaned Carrot Top. “Don’t feel bad, I got both of my children with that same trick many times. I’ve had practice.” Harvest Moon’s smile slowly faded away, “And with all that’s going on I’m actually glad you gave me and Summer space.” “I just wanted to stay clued in,” Carrot Top let her withers relax, now knowing she wasn’t adding to an already tense situation, “Is it really that bad?” Harvest Moon gave a slow nod, “Both for the farm and Corn Crib.” Carrot Top was at a loss for words. How could she possibly say anything to this mare that wouldn’t sound hollow as an empty kettle? She knew Jack was many things but he couldn’t possibly tell a lie that could make a sick filly better. Finally, out of desperation, she asked the only question that seemed remotely appropriate; “How well are you taking this?” A glance back at the door and the stallion still sitting on the porch, “I’m… choosing to be optimistic. Ponyville hospital has a good reputation, from what I understand so Corn Crib should be in good hooves there. I’m worried about her, of course, and I’m disappointed we may be losing our home but I know this is eating Summer alive.” Carrot Top nodded, she could certainly believe that. Summer was a blowhard and a plothead but he genuinely loved this farm. For him, losing it would be like losing a leg. Harvest Moon continued, “And truth be told… I’m about to go ask Applejack about that offer of hers.” Carrot Top didn’t think it was possible, but the farmhouse somehow got even quieter, “You what?” “You heard me. Summer’s putting on a brave face and he’d always do the right thing by putting our foals first, but I know this is killing my husband. If he gets mad then he’ll get mad, but I don’t want to see him lose this farm.” Harvest Moon stopped, suddenly realizing she’d been speaking louder than she meant to. Nothing came from the porch, either Summer hadn’t heard it or wasn’t there anymore. “That… doesn’t have to be your first choice.” Carrot Top suggested, “What about everypony else in town? You’re close with all your neighbors, and a lot of money’s come into town.” Harvest Moon tore her eyes away from the door and shook her head, “That’d take too long to organize. Besides, all the money that trickled in from Ponyville would go right back there and everypony would be just as broke as before Lord Barleycorn came. I can’t ask everypony to waste a gift he gave them.” Carrot Top rubbed her temple, trying to think of something else that could help. “... but we can always try.” It was faint, but Harvest Moon’s tired voice carried a note of hope, “If you’ll watch Corn Crib a little longer, I’d like to town in a little bit to see if I can find Applejack. If for some reason she says no then I can then try asking around for a little help.” Carrot Top nodded, “Alright, and I can donate a little. And don’t say no, if you’re going to ask Applejack then there’s no reason why my bits aren’t any good.” Harvest Moon let out a sigh knowing she didn’t have room to argue, “Fine. Just don’t put yourself in dire straits.” “Even if I do, that’s entirely my choice.” Carrot Top said, “But I think right now we could both do with some time to clear our heads. Have you eaten lunch?” The umber mare again frowned, she was usually very meticulous about having three meals a day, and yet in all the stress laid at her hooves she’d completely missed her usual lunchtime. The ache in the pit of her stomach that had been quiet until now confirmed this. “I guess I haven’t.” Harvest Moon admitted. “Then you can find something to nibble on in the kitchen and try to relax.” Carrot Top smiled, “Assuming nopony’s had it, there should still be half a Lumberjack Special from Tablecloth’s in the fridge.” “Now that sounds nice.” Harvest Moon paused to glance toward the window, “If you’re going outside, would you mind putting my cart away for me? I left it out in the field. You may have to dump it.” Carrot Top shrugged, “I guess that’s fair, you did catch me snooping on your conversation after all.” A tired smile came to Harvest Moon’s face, but it was quickly replaced with a more serious look, “How is Corn Crib?” “About the same as when you went out to the field.” Said Carrot Top, “I just checked in on her before I noticed you two. She’s a bit cranky, but that’s mostly from her Canterlot-sized bellyache and being tired.” Harvest Moon rubbed her forehead, all this worry was contributing to the population of gray hairs in her mane, she knew it. “Thank you, for all this Golden. I mean it. You’ve done more for us than I think anypony else would.” Said Harvest Moon. The carrot farmer just smiled and shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. Go get something to eat.” With that, the two mares parted ways. Summer was indeed gone when Carrot Top left the farmhouse, and Harvest Moon’s cart was summarily found and its contents disposed of in a now-familiar spot. With her favor to Harvest Moon completed, Carrot top decided now was a good opportunity to enter the barn without suspicion. Up in the hay mount was jack, in his usual spot. As Carrot Top poked her head through the hatch door he sat up to greet her. He looked like he’d just been woken up, and in fact, he had. Hooves on an old wooden staircase were not a stealthy means of approach by any stretch of the imagination. “What time is it?” Jack grumbled upon seeing her. “For you, early.” Carrot Top said, “Got some news from the house you might want to hear, it’s not good.” Jack gave a quick stretch, but before he could speak a yawn forced him into silence. Still, through this involuntary action, his attention remained firmly locked on Carrot Top. “It’s about the kid, isn’t it?” He asked. Carrot Top simply nodded her head, “If she’s not treated quickly she might not… you know...” Jack sat up as if he was ready to come down to venture to the farmhouse this very instant, but the mare stopped him with a raise of her foreleg, “Before you charge over there like a buffalo, let me fill you in on all the details...” It didn’t take very long for Carrot Top to relay all that she had learned from Harvest Moon. She preempted any question the human might have had; already anticipating that he would want to know more about Ponyville’s hospital but Carrot Top assured him it had a spotless reputation and could easily perform this procedure. What did surprise him was that Harvest Moon would go so far as to ask Applejack for financial aid. “Well, if she lays out why she needs the money, Applejack would give up the money without a second thought.” Said Jack. Carrot Top nodded, “Absolutely. Even if there was no family tie, I could name four of her friends that would just as easily toss in money to help.” “With Applejack that only makes five.” Jack pointed out. Carrot Top let out a tired sigh, “Rainbow is a lot of things, but she’s not exactly conservative with her money. If she can contribute anything, I’d be very surprised.” This was not the ideal outcome he’d been hoping for. The Harvests hadn’t lost the farm just yet, but he could feel the noose tightening. Only a few days remained until their debts were called in and there was very little left in his bag of tricks. However, Jack chose to focus on the important issue. Even if he screwed up and the Harvests lost their farm, even if the ghosts in the woods decided to punish him, even if the doctor blabbed his secret around town… as long as that little girl got the proper treatment. That’s what mattered most. “How is she doing?” Jack asked, “Emotionally, I mean.” Carrot Top glanced toward the hay mount door and the farmhouse that could barely be glimpsed through the thin gap between the door and the barn wall.  “Well, right now she reminds me of myself last time I battled the flu.” Carrot Top said, “She’s tired and cranky from going back and forth from the bed to the toilet, but I can tell she’s pretty bored too.” “Makes sense, since there’s no TV or internet here to kill time there’s not much to occupy her mind, and no one picks up a book to read when they’re doubled over on the toilet.” Jack thought, “I should step in and see if I can cheer her up a little.” Carrot Top smiled, “She’d like that.” “I’m sure she would,” The smile that had just found its way to Jack’s face gave way to a tired frown. He rubbed his face as he felt another yawn coming on. “But as for the two of us, this whole situation… it’s really gotten all out of hand, hasn’t it?” Semantics aside, Carrot Top simply nodded in agreement. She had been a spectator to a lot of Ponyville’s absurdities, but this was the first time she’d ever been so in over her head. It made her wonder how Twilight and her friends had the energy to deal with it every other week.  As for their present situation, Carrot Top felt like she and Jack were nearly out of options. “Could we maybe twist the doctor’s leg into doing the surgery here?” Carrot Top asked, “Surely seeing some ghosts might have put him off the bottle for a while.” Jack answered with firm denial, “Not gonna happen. The crank was passed out drunk in his office when everyone in town saw them. The last time I spoke to him he was still correctly guessing I’m just a guy in a costume.” Carrot Top groaned into her hooves, “How could anypony have slept through that!?” “High octane alcohol, and lots of it.” Jack snorted, “But that’s not the worst thing that happened on my last visit to his clinic.” Carrot Top let out a groan, “Dare I ask how it could be worse?” Jack braced himself for her imminent, devastating reaction, “I may have… let it slide that this is indeed just a sham.” The air in the barn seemed to grow colder the more Carrot Top narrowed her eyes.  “... come again?” She asked as she stared at him, the lack of a threat in her tone somehow making the danger feel all the more intense. “I ain’t going to sugar coat it.” Jack began, “I poured on all the charm I had, he dismissed it. I tried to pin him with logic, he didn’t care. I used my medical training to make him second guess his belief that I’m a fraud… and he laid a trap I walked into. He said he could perform Corn Crib’s operation here and I did everything but take off my mask to try to convince him to do it.” To say Carrot Top looked displeased by this information would be an understatement, “You mean to tell me you blurted everything out after all this secrecy?” “I know it was a stupid idea...” Groaned Jack as he rubbed his face, “I was only thinking of Corn Crib’s wellbeing.” “You’re lucky everypony thinks he’s a belligerent drunk and nopony’s going to listen to him if he decides to blab our little secret all around town.” Carrot Top rubbed her face with both hooves to soothe her brand new headache, “You didn’t let him know about me, did you?” “No, he might assume you’re somepony in town but I think that’s about as close as he is to knowing you’re my number one rag pony.” “Thank goodness you had some forethought there.” Carrot Top snorted, still looking disappointed with his choice, “But I think he’s too bullheaded to keep this information to himself.” “Maybe, maybe not.”Jack said, “Like you said no one in town is going to believe him if he says Lord Barleycorn is fake. But I think he’ll try to expose me the next time I come to town,” Carrot Top nodded at his logic, it did sound like something Cherry Nova would try. “But it doesn’t matter if he tries or not, I gotta go back to town anyway. The town doesn’t believe I’m fake, and I think I can help drum up some more support for the family.” Jack sighed, “And I didn’t walk away totally empty-handed. I did learn that he can perform the procedure here if he had some assistance.” Carrot Top’s ears perked up, “So… you offered to help and that’s how he pieced it together?” Jack nodded, “Yup.” “And… you can assist in the surgery?” Carrot Top said slowly, still trying to process this new information. “Assisting is the easy part, but yeah.” The human said, “Presumably Corn Crib could have it here without the risk of her cecum rupturing.” Carrot Top scoffed, “That’s still sounding like a gamble with Cherry performing it.” “He might be a lush, but honestly I got the impression he’s taking this seriously.” Jack retorted, “But are we good? I know this can’t have been good news?” Carrot Top sighed, “I want to be angry, but I know your heart is in the right place. And I can’t rightly be mad at somepony for trying to help my family.” Jack grinned and slowly got to his feet, “Good to hear, because I can’t do this next show without you. I need you to meet me later for a quick rehearsal where the others won’t be able to hear me. Preferably, get me some paper and I can write down the lyrics.” “You want me to sing?” Carrot Top asked dumbly. “Mmhm, you’re the only one who can do this. If it works, then it should do exactly what I think it will.” Jack chuckled knowingly to himself. Carrot Top placed a hoof on her chest. “If it’ll help Corn Crib, I’ll do anything.” Jack gave his co-conspirator a pat between her ears, “Excellent because for this show you’re going to smell like walnuts one more time.” --- Applejack did not want to be here. Even in the middle of the day, she felt no sense of security in the vicinity of this ancient stone circle. She hadn’t wanted to return after seeing the specter, which Twilight had described as a guardian for this forgotten site. Despite the sunshine making the area as bright as could be, she still felt like she was still in potential danger. Her friends were with her, and they were of course sympathetic to her anxiety. It was why all of them were present. The pillars were each looking clean and as pristine as they could, for large blocks of raw stone could be. The forest hadn’t seen fit to have the moss and vines regrow in the days since Applejack and Twilight were sent running for their lives. In fact, the circle was calm and shockingly tranquil, with a few birds twittering in the branches above their heads as if to say all was normal in this unnatural place. That didn’t stop Applejack from expecting something weird to pop out of the thick undergrowth and scare her, but the company of her friends was helping to settle her nerves. “Are you absolutely certain you want to go out in that?” Rarity asked, gesturing to what Twilight was wearing, “I know you have to perform a dance but it seems very impractical.” Applejack wasn’t the best pony to judge fashion. In fact, she was probably the last pony in their circle who should be judging what Twilight had on, but even she knew this looked ridiculous. The alicorn’s head was covered in a yellow cowl, hiding all but her eyes and horn. Colored feathers from some ancient items from the antique shop were attached at the sides, creating a strange and gaudy headdress. To Rarity’s horror, Twilight had insisted on only the oldest and most mismatched scraps of cloth from Cross Stitch’s tailor shop to be used to create layered robes of wildly random color and pattern which now hung heavy on her back and withers. Bells, feathers, and tassels hung in random places, ribbons and strings of beads and other baubles were strung here and there. Lastly, on her feet were slippers made from whatever Cross Stitch was going to throw away. In every respect, Twilight looked like the gaudiest clown to ever walk Equestria. “I know it may seem silly...” Twilight said defensively, already anticipating her friend’s reactions. “Twi, you look like one of them jesters Ah heard used to entertain the princesses in the olden days.” Applejack said flatly, “Ah can’t believe ya got Rarity to make this.” “I never made this.” Rarity stated firmly, “No pony must ever know I made this… grotesque monstrosity!” Twilight rolled her eyes, “I told you, there’s a reason I wanted you to use all that old cloth you wanted the tailor to toss out.” Rarity shuddered, “Paisley, stripes, and polka dots…” Choosing to ignore Rarity’s mumbling, Twilight continued, “The entire purpose of this ritual is to honor what’s old. You said it yourself, Rarity that all of that old fabric had to have been in this town for the better part of forty years. It has some connection to Hollow Shades.” “But darling much of that was sitting in an old barn so long that it was growing mold.” Rarity groused, “Even though I cleaned it, it can’t possibly be pleasant to wear that over your face.” It wasn’t. It reminded Twilight of an old trunk in the basement in her parent’s house that she hid in during occasional games of Hide-and-Seek with Shining Armor, and the odor had been so strong as to make her woozy. “It is a bit musty, but it’s fine. It’s only for one night.” Twilight said, “One night and you can forget all about it.” Applejack let out a tired sigh, “Alright then Twi, explain why yer wearin’ somethin’ that looks like somepony gave hard cider to a quiltin’ circle?” Rarity felt unsure if she should agree or feel offended by that remark. “I read that some cultures, especially in Neighpon believe when objects achieve a certain age they begin to have a spirit all their own. The cloth, feathers, and everything else you made this from are meant to be a bit of a… conduit of sorts. “ Rarity gave her friend an incredulous look, “That ridiculous thing is supposed to be a connection to the spirit world?” “… Maybe?” Twilight didn’t sound like she had a lot of confidence, but continued to speak, “I’m just winging this, using all the information I gathered from locals and some of the books I brought to make this as meaningful to me as possible. If I can find symbolism in this and the other steps I prepared then supposedly that’ll do the job.” Applejack sighed, “Alright, so ya gotta wear that quilted nightmare. What else didja decide ya gotta do?” “Don’t worry, the rest of the ritual is pretty straightforward and won’t need a lot of input from you two.” Twilight explained as she levitated a large and antiquated bell to Applejack. Inferring from Twilight that she was supposed to take the instrument, Applejack sat and took the hoof-sized bell in her hooves. It was heavier than it looked and appeared to be made of iron. As she was getting a grip on it, the ringer struck the side and the bell rang low and heavy. This one note felt amplified by the silence of the forest, almost as if it echoed off the trees themselves. Applejack nearly dropped the bell in her rush to silence the ringing and quickly glanced around at the undergrowth, her breath held as she feared something could come out from behind the trees at any second. Rarity and Twilight seemed on edge by Applejack’s rapt attention to the trees and tried to find anything that the farm pony might have seen to cause such a reaction. Several minutes passed, and when no spectral creature made its presence known, Applejack, at last, calmed down. “Uh, Twi, where did you get this?” Applejack asked as she now had her hoof in the bell, holding the ringer firm to the side to keep the bell silent. “It was on the back of one of the abandoned houses. One of the farmers had taken it off and meant to use it as a dinner bell but when I mentioned I was going to use it here they let me have it.” Applejack felt a shudder. This was off one of those crumbling farmhouses? She should have guessed. If Twilight wanted to have old cloth she’d also want something that could very well be off a haunted house. “And don’t tell me you took something from the cemetery too?” Rarity deadpanned. “I’m not a ghoul, Rarity.” Twilight huffed, “All you have to do is ring the bell four times to symbolize the four seasons and to clear the air. It grabs the attention of spirits.” Applejack winced because after that one note she believed this bell could wake the dead. “And then what?” Applejack dared to ask. “I perform a dance in the circle here, lighting the candles that we’ll be setting up while also singing a short song in the language of the Isle of Welsh, since most of the ponies trace their ancestry to there. When I’m done you ring the bell four more times, and I put out the candles with this candle snuffer.” Rarity gave the brass snuffer a skeptical look, “You didn’t find this one in another abandoned house did you?” If there was one benefit to wearing this costume, Twilight believed it was keeping Rarity from seeing her sneer in annoyance. “No…” Said Twilight, trying to sound patient, “I found it in the antique store.” Rarity looked around at the old stones that stood in a ring around them like ancient sentries, and then back at Twilight. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being unfair. I know you and Applejack suffered quite a sight at this place but I admit I’m… a bit on edge too.” Rarity said, “What do you need me to do?” “Apology accepted,” Twilight said, her irritation now forgotten, “You making the costume was the big thing I needed you to do, but I wanted you here to watch how I move in the costume. Walking here was easy, but this is a pretty… elaborate dance and I need to make sure I have full freedom of movement come time for the real ritual.” Rarity secretly saw the only means of improving this crime against fashion was with a liberal application of fire but for the potential sake of her friend’s eternal soul, she nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll… be observant.” Rarity acquiesced. With that settled, Applejack and Rarity watched as Twilight turned to the candles resting on the ground. They were normal beeswax candles anypony could buy, standing in what looked like unglazed clay candle holders. The purple aura of Twilight’s magic gripped each of them and soon the four were set in the dry dirt in the center of the stone circle. When this was done, Twilight took a compass and began to align the candles as best she could to the four cardinal directions. It was just another part of the ritual, something that appealed to her sense of exactness. “I made the candle holders from clay I got from the river. I’m not the best sculptor, even with magic but this is all about emotional connection.” Twilight explained as she nudged the candles here and there, trying to get it just right, “Aaand there. Done. Ready to start this rehearsal?” “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” Applejack said, letting the ringer of the bell go, “Lemme know when to ring this thing.” Twilight let out a breath and relaxed, closing her eyes as she stepped away from the tight ring of unlit candles. “Ready.” Applejack shared a glance at Rarity before she rang the bell. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. The echo of the iron bell seemed to reverberate in the small clearing, each loud collision of the ringer chiming loud, clear, and heavy. Despite its size, Applejack could swear it seemed unusually loud. The final ringing seemed to die away slowly, leaving behind it a strange silence that felt to Applejack like a busy room of ponies had stopped their conversations to stare at her. She guessed that was sort of the point. With the bell rung, Twilight began her dance. The princess of friendship was hardly what anypony would call a good dancer, but the ritualized nature of her movements seemed an improvement to her usual wild flailing about. She moved in a circle, the candle snuffer delicately swaying above her head as she moved.  It was a simple dance, all things considered. Twilight took three steps, rose to her hind legs, twirled, made some motions with her front legs, came down on all fours, tossed her head, and repeated the process. Slowly she began to make her way around the circle, the small bells and trinkets attached to her costume jingling as she moved. The feathers, tassels, and ribbons swayed. As awkward as it was to watch her dance, the movement of her costume seemed to captivate her two observers. A flick of light from Twilight's horn sparked the first candle to light as she passed it. Barely a step had passed before she sang; “Wel dyma ni'n dwad, Gyfeillion diniwad, I ofyn am gennod i ganu~” Applejack had never heard ‘Welsh’ before, but she wondered how long it had taken Twilight to be able to pronounce half of it as well as she had. There was no doubt that the apple farmer couldn’t have repeated any of those words half as well as Twilight, had spoken them just now. “Os na chawn ni gennad, Rhowch wybod ar ganiad, Pa fodd mae'r 'madawiad, nos heno~” Two more candles were lit, and soon they were all standing, burning brightly in the center of the circle. Twilight rose up on her hind legs and bowed in all four directions, her costume fluttering and jingling as she did so. “'Does genni ddim cinio, Nac arian iw gwario, I wneud i chwi roeso, nos heno!” Starting with the northward candle, Twilight began to snuff out the flames. Each one creating a gentle curl of smoke that rose up into the air before joining the wind and disappearing. A look from Twilight told Applejack to finish the ritual. Four motions of the bell again filled the area with those heavy clangs. The candles had ceased smoking before Applejack was even finished. The entire ritual had taken less than two minutes to complete. Applejack couldn’t help but feel it was very barebones for a magical ceremony, but she reasoned that this was Twilight’s first try. Maybe there was time to try and make it a bit more interesting. “Well, what did you think?” Twilight asked, sounding out of breath, “The costume’s a bit heavy but I think it moved well.” “You did want all that stuff attached to it, darling.” Rarity gently reminded her. Twilight nodded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What about the dance? The song?” Applejack scratched the back of her head, “I can’t tell ya nothin’ about the song, but the dance was kinda weird.” “It was, what it was, darling. I’m afraid I can’t comment beyond that it seemed to be what you wanted.” Rarity said. Twilight considered her friend’s words, “I guess it was a bit over everypony’s heads. I’ll tinker with it a little and… girls, did it just get colder?” Rarity raised an eyebrow, “Twilight, you’re wearing three layers and were engaged in some… unorthodox aerobics. Cold is the last thing you should be.” “Well, considering how late it is in the year and the wild weather here in the forest I just assumed-” “Twi...” Applejack breathed in a low whisper, “Dun move… fer the love of Celestia, dun move...” The unexpected fear in Applejack’s voice told Twilight to take her warning seriously, and so she stood still. The silence in the small grove was greater than Twilight remembered it being. Nothing seemed to move, even the air seemed to have become thicker as she struggled to keep her breathing regulated as anxiety began to build within her. Against all her hope, Twilight had a good idea of what was behind her. A glance over at her friends did not reassure her at all. Applejack was a portrait of barely restrained panic. She was shaking uncontrollably while her eyes had shrunk down to pinpricks as she stared, mouth agape at something behind Twilight; behind and above her. While Applejack was all a quake with fear, Rarity on the otherhoof was stiff as a statue. Like Twilight she seemed too afraid to move, and like Applejack her eyes were focused above the alicorn. There came a snort, from over Twilight’s withers, a deep and heavy sound like that of a displeased grandparent having discovered its grandfoal doing something it ought not be doing. Twilight swallowed the nervous lump that had been growing in the back of her throat, but still she did not move. A low growl like the sound of a distant avalanche rumbled in her ear, sending newfound tremors of fear through Twilight’s body. It wanted her to turn around. Instead, she stole another glance at her friends. Had she messed up? Had she instead angered the guardian more? Thoughts of spells ran through her mind. She could teleport away, far from this horrible place, but what about her friends? If they were just a few yards closer she could teleport all three of them all the way to Ponyville. Could she risk jumping just a few feet closer... Another growl, this time the earth beneath Twilight’s hooves seemed to shake from it. She wasn’t sure why, but Twilight turned her head. Just slightly. Just enough to see that same disembodied head staring her in the eye. All the world seemed to fall away as she stared into the dark pits where the eyes should be. Despite the sun shining in the grove, the sockets of that spectre’s face were black as a moonless night. In that instant, the Princess of Friendship felt like she was utterly powerless. Yet, no echoing roar came from that shadowy head. Nor did its face shift to become the stuff of nightmare made manifest. Instead, it simply hovered there like some gruesome balloon. Without a word, the head of the Black Goat glided silently around Twilight. If Twilight was not going to turn around, it was going to move until she could not ignore it. Just the memory of what this spirit could do, the way it could change its shape to excite fear drove Twilight back a step as the head now floated at eye level with her. Those empty sockets now seemed illuminated by narrow pinpricks, like starlight trying to pierce cloud cover. Twilight wasn’t sure how long she stared into those eyes, but when she finally did she noted the head was no longer simply that. It was attached to a body, that of a great and hoary old goat with a coat and beard that billowed like smoke from a campfire. Motion from the thing caught Twilight's attention, it was raising one of its forelegs, and out of reflex she flinched, her mind leaping at the idea of reprisal worse than an ear-splitting howl this time. Her eyes were closed when the hoof made contact. A gentle poke on her nose. Twilight’s eyes snapped open, that black hoof was gently resting on the tip of her snout. She had barely enough time to see the faintest hint of a smile on the spectral goat before it began to lose its form, quickly dissipating like smoke in the wind despite the continued stillness in the air. And just like that, it was gone. The sounds of life seemed to return as if the world had been turned back on, with the wind in the trees and far off birds chirping. Applejack and Rarity stood on the verge of collapse from sheer relief. Twilight’s knees wobbled, suddenly realizing she was just as weary as her friends. With wobbly knees she seated herself on the group, trying to settle her racing heart. But despite all that the Black Goat had put her through, the message was clear. The ritual was a resounding success. --- To be continued... ---