Some ponies kept clothes in their wardrobe. Frilly princess dresses, gowns, big poofy outfits that looked an awful lot like curtains stitched together in such a way that they could be draped off of a body in a manner most ridiculous. But not the Princess of the Night, no. Luna kept no clothes in her wardrobe; she kept WAR in her wardrobe, and plenty of it. Enough to spare, enough to go around. Princess Luna had the most terrifying closet space in all of Equestria, and perhaps all of the world.
She had gone to find her friends, but could sense only that they were somehow below her. Which meant that only one thing could be true: their enemies had struck, they were dead, and the quirky quartet were now buried somewhere on the school grounds. Luna would avenge them, but first, she needed the right tool for the job. Something suitable to inspire and sow terror. A weapon to be her herald—and she had just the thing.
Tucked in the wardrobe among the swords, maces, flails, flagellant cat-o'-nine-tails, axes, nunchaku, elastration applicators, sais, pliers, extractors, a collection of dental tools wrapped in a canvas carry-all, pincers, snips, chokers, hoof clamps, dock pressers, ear clips, and one curiously sharp pizza cutter, Luna had just the right tool for the job. There, in the middle of it all, was a chainsaw. Ponies had tried to tell her that it was a gardening tool, but Luna was no fool, no foal born yesterday. Clearly, war had changed during her long absence and mechanical meat mulcher technology had progressed to include such nightmarish implements.
Safety demanded that a chainsaw be wielded while wearing something called a hockey mask, and as luck would have it, Luna just so happened to keep one of those in her wardrobe as well. Not that she needed a mask to be safe, but it couldn't hurt to set a responsible example for the little ponies, all of whom were notoriously unsafe in their day to day practices.
One of her many duties was to craft scary dreams about workplace safety and industrial accidents, because little ponies were careless creatures with fragile, squishy bodies that stood no chance against remorseless mechanisation. Red was a bold, vivid primary colour and did not go well with soft, muted pastels. Why, the outcome could be quite garish as the contrasting colour palettes refused to harmonise with one another. Workplace safety was a requirement not only for reasons of health and well-being, but also for the sake of the artistically sensitive.
Luna was well-prepared for exuberant casual dismemberment.
What are you doing?
The voice came from the space between her ears, on the inside, a place where strangeness lived.
"We are… I am… I do not know what I am doing."
You are about to run amuck through the school with a chainsaw. Why?
It wasn't crazy when one spoke to themselves; rather, madness was choosing to answer. But this… this felt like something else. This was her voice, but it was somewhat unfamiliar. This voice seemed reasonable—dangerously so. It was a voice that wanted to be heard. Hesitating, Luna stared into her wardrobe and tried to make sense of this peculiar entirely nonsensical moment.
"What are you?" she asked.
A bit of dream magic, the spectres of old dead imaginary friends, a wisp of reality, residue of old nightmares, and your chronic fear of loneliness. If you do what you're about to do right now, you will be alone. Again.
A cold prickle danced along the length of Luna's spine.
Unlike the other voices within your mind, I want what is best for you. You go to avenge your friends, but I ask, do they need your revengeance? Think about what was said, Luna.
Pausing, ears twitching, Luna tried to recall anything that might be important. After a few seconds of sweaty contemplation, her mind presented a useful, relevant fact: Overcast mentioned the service tunnels beneath the school. Which would mean… they were underground. No doubt in a secure location where it would be difficult, if not downright impossible for somepony to sense them. Only Luna's alicorn senses could register that they were somewhere below. As everything clicked into place, Luna could not help but wonder what new and helpful madness had overtaken her.
I'll be around, Luna. Do nothing rash. Go and be with your new friends.
"This… you… acknowledging you has made you real, hasn't it?" she asked.
No response; nothing happened between her ears.
Probing her mind, she attempted to touch whatever had been there—but there was nothing to touch. As the seconds passed, even the memory became more and more dreamlike, to such a degree that Luna began to doubt that she'd heard anything at all. Maybe she hadn't actually heard anything. Perhaps this was one of her turns. But this had been a helpful turn and as she stared into her wardrobe, she clearly saw the mistake she was about to make.
Somewhat stunned, Luna closed the wardrobe, took a step back, and then tried to process exactly what had just happened. She couldn't. Confusion settled in and she wondered just what it was that she was thinking, coming here to arm herself. There were times when she could not understand herself, and this was one of them. What motivated her to such rash action?
"I think I'm getting better," she said to herself.
Nothing answered—which left her a bit disappointed.
"I should go find Overcast. He's a clever colt, hiding where it is difficult to use divination to determine his location. So begins the search. Hide and go seek!"
It was dark and cobwebby down here. Which didn't bother Luna in the slightest—she rather liked the atmospheric ambiance of cobwebs—but this would be spooky to most foals and even quite a few adults. The service tunnels, though intended for the staff and the groundskeepers, didn't see much use it seemed. Looking down, Luna could see that the floor was a bit dusty. When she didn't see any tracks, she scowled. She expected to see something, at least, but there was nothing.
She had never been down here. After all, what business did a Princess of Equestria have prowling the pathways intended for the help? To make matters worse, the ceiling was low—too low—and she had to keep her head ducked to prevent her horn from scraping. A fat spider nonchalantly strolled past and she watched as it went off to do its spider errands. Perhaps it was out for a bit of shopping or maybe sought out a somewhat more upscale neighborhood, a place more suitable to raise a brood of spiderlings.
Overcast was somewhere… somewhere below her. How far was unknown. His exact location? Unknown. The way down? Unknown. It occurred to Luna that Overcast's rapscallionry knew no bounds and there was no telling what deviousness he got up to in whatever dark places he secured himself away in. But… down here in the depths, he couldn't listen. He couldn't eavesdrop. So if he came down here, it was obviously to seek out some quiet. A place where the careless words of others could not trouble him.
He was a little dark dweller.
There were no lights down here, but there were enchanted bejeweled sconces that could be lit as one passed. Just a faint touch of magic, any magic, and the sconces would glow for a time. Only a unicorn could navigate these passages with ease; an earth pony or a pegasus would have to bring their own lantern. All of the sconces were dark though—which meant that Overcast did not light them, no doubt so he couldn't be tracked as easily.
She began her way down the hall, took maybe a dozen steps, and then stopped when she came to a five-way intersection. There was a small alcove, something just big enough to turn a cart or a trolley around, and a wooden bench against the wall. A nice little spot to rest one's hooves, down here in the tenebrous depths beneath the school. Of the five options, she could rule out one—the one she'd just traversed. That left four. Try as she might, she could not get a good read on Overcast's location and this frustrated her a great deal.
Just what sort of fool built a maze of passageways beneath a school?
Luna suspected that her sister was that fool.
The fact that Overcast was below her indicated that there were layers to this maze. She would have to find some stairs, or more likely a ramp. A way down would have to be found. Perhaps several ways down, because she had no idea how far down Overcast might be. Why the school needed tunnels down this deep baffled Luna—briefly—but then she thought of invading armies, flights of rampaging dragons, and other such threats. Which made her hate the maze all the more, because now it had purpose.
"Oh, bother and blast!" she swore and the sound of her voice echoed off of the ancient stone blocks.
Turning about, Luna chose the most sinister path, which is to say she went left.
After some time wandering around in the dark, Luna found herself at a lift. She had found herself at several lifts; cogwheel contraptions that were inelegant but suitable for lifting or lowering a cart or trolley. All the other lifts she'd encountered went up to the school above. This lift, the one she stood on at the moment, not only went up, but it also went down. Which meant that she could gain access to whatever was below her in the delightful dungeons below the school.
This lift felt as though it had to be near the center of the school, the very heart of it, and she could sense the oppressive weight and mass above her. At any second, it could crumble—it could give away in a spectacular instant of disaster—and she would be buried alive in the school's endless maze of innards. The real tragedy of course was that the ancient stone would hold. It was unyielding in the way that stone was and the school was in no danger of crumbling any time soon. Life would go on and classes would be called to session with the tolling of a bell.
Down here in the bowels of the school, Luna had found storerooms full of things that made the school what it was. She found Hearth's Warming decorations aplenty. There were gaudy things for Hearts & Hooves Day. All manner of knick-knacks for dances, balls, and galas. Quite by accident, Luna had found a location that she rather liked, and she intended to return when given the chance. Ponies threw away the things that made them happy; they cast them into dark and forgot about them when they were no longer of any use, only to return and find them when they were in need of them once more.
Luna sympathised with all things cast into the dark and forgotten.
Overcast was down here somewhere. One more thing carelessly thrown away and left forgotten amongst the other detritus. That he knew about this place and was familiar with it spoke volumes about him. A little conflicted, or perhaps a whole lot conflicted, Luna stood on the lift and thought about life. Like Overcast, she was down here too, among the temporary things not good enough for permanence. A consolatory melancholy overtook her; it was something warm and familiar, a thing she could not bear to part with because it was comforting in some confusing way that made no sense.
Throwing the lever, Luna resigned herself to the darkness below.
From the lift landing, there was only one passage, which sloped downwards. The walls were irregular and lumpy; no stone blocks, just shaped earth. It was cold down here and so very dark. There were no sconces, no light sources, so the darkness ruled supreme. Luna's horn lit the way, not that she needed it. She could see just fine even down here where no natural light existed.
The fact that Overcast braved these depths said much about his character.
She had no choice but to walk with her head bowed because of the low irregular ceiling. The walls were exactly as wide as the many carts and trolleys found around the school, and not an inch wider. While the incline would be taxing, it was not oppressive nor was it dangerous. Anypony that came down here for whatever reason would be safe enough when moving goods.
What was this place so far beneath the school and why did it exist?
Surely, it had a purpose; Celestia, while somewhat silly, was practical enough. All of this difficult construction required a reason to exist. While Luna was very much enamoured with the idea of a vast, sprawling dungeon beneath the school—she was the Princess of Detention after all—the sheer impracticality of it all suggested it had to be something else. Somewhere in the blackness up ahead Overcast would be found. She could feel him now. He was a king in these stygian pits and she was little more than a guest, or a tourist.
With every step taken, her respect for the little colt grew.
Double doors made of ancient wood blocked her way. These doors were too large, too impractical. The passage leading to them was too small, too narrow. So having such large doors was foolish in the extreme. Yet, the doors existed. More than three times as tall as Luna herself was. A high sloping arch gave them beautiful form. There was an alcove here best left in the dark, because to turn on the light was to know horror. The walls here were elaborately sculpted from floor to ceiling with a countless number of pony skeletons. Skulls winked and grinned in the faint light cast from Luna's horn.
Was this an ossuary?
A crypt?
Catacombs?
A mystery.
Luna could sense Celestia's magic here; she had shaped the stone. The skeletons were her work. Little Miss Sunshine had a thing for the grotesque, the morbid, and the macabre, but she hid it away where few might find it. What the little ponies failed to realise was that Celestia was the Sun. While a dawn might be a new beginning, a setting sun was the end. Celestia was bound to cycles, one of which was life. Which began—and ended. Few knew that Celestia was Death Incarnate.
And for whatever reason, the little ponies were scared of Luna.
Ignorant, foolish little creatures, the lot of them.
How had Overcast ventured past these doors? To come upon this place and to see it in all of its grisly glory; how had he not run off screaming? How had he not died of fright? For that matter, how did the school staff come down here? Surely they came down here. There was a lift and everything. This place served a purpose. But to come out of the narrow passage and to see this place surely was a shock to the senses.
A closer inspection revealed more detail. The skeletons were going through the motions of life. Some were gathered around a small cosy table for tea. Others danced together. One scene depicted a skeletal teacher teaching a group of skeletal foals, pointing to a skeleton drawn on a blackboard. A skeletal mother cradled her skeletal newborn. Near to that one, a skeletal pegasus bowed their head next to a coffin, which contained a skeletal earth pony laid to rest.
Yes, this was most definitely Celestia's work; it bore her signature upon every bony inch.
"Sister, why would you create such a place beneath your school?"
The answer, Luna knew, was beyond the doors, which she moved to open.
Beyond the door was an alcove and in the middle of this entryway was Celestia's skeleton. Luna knew it well. So well, in fact, that she was relieved to see it. These bones were conspicuously absent from the modern era. Gone. Nowhere to be found. Once, a long time ago, this skeletal representation of Celestia could be seen everywhere. A reminder of the end. The Great Harvester. Farmers would leave gifts of grain near the base of these sculptures.
The skeletal alicorn seemed to beckon with her bony wing, as if inviting Luna to come in.
What was this doing down here?
This depiction of Celestia was dead. Which was to say that the depiction of a dead Celestia had fallen out of favour. But for Luna, who stood there staring, this was reassuring. Comforting. It was something from the past that had retreated from the memory of many. Little ponies did not like grim reminders of their inevitable demise no more so than they liked having nightmares. Reaching out with one wing, Luna lovingly brushed some dust from her sister's bony muzzle.
It felt very much like coming home after a long absence. Only this wasn't home. She didn't know what this place was. While some might consider it a place of nightmarish horror, Luna found it a peaceful place of refuge—and so too did Overcast if he came here to seclude himself away from the world. Which meant that he had to be aware of a forgotten aspect of Celestia.
With one final loving touch of the stone bones of her sister, Luna moved past so that she might see what awaited beyond. There were lights up ahead, faint voices, there was life down here in this dark sanctum. She heard laughter as she approached the arch. Laughter seemed out of place, but it was a welcome sound. A warm sound that drove the chill from Luna's ears.
Luna found herself in some sort of library. Or an archive. It was a place that smelt of old paper. This wasn't some musty, damp, mildewy place. It was dry. Cold. A place of storage. Meaningful things were kept here, things with value that rot and decay could not be allowed to touch. What appeared to be endless rows of shelves could be seen and darkness consumed most of them. There was an island of light around a nearby table, and around this table were four foals that Luna was extremely happy to see.
They were no worse for wear, the four of them. There were bottles of soda pop on the table, snacks, bookbags, and what appeared to be some sort of game of some kind. Luna saw a map of some sort, paper dolls, and various types of dice. The four had their horns lit and this light held back the inky nothingness. Luna stared at them and the four stared right back at her.
"Welcome to the Dead Archives," Overcast said with a wave of his foreleg.
"What is this place?" asked Luna.
"School records are kept here," Almanac said before Overcast had a chance to respond. "But not the living. The records of every teacher and student are brought here after death and preserved for prosperity. It's neat! After I die, my permanent record will be brought here and kept in perpetuity. I'll be remembered! All my accomplishments, all of my failures, everything will be kept."
"All my detentions," muttered Overcast.
"Our lives will be noted," Top Notch said, "and these are records of how Princess Celestia's students changed the world. The progress we've brought about. All the good things we do. Stuff we've invented. How we've advanced society. This is all a testament to progress. Overcast seems to know a lot about it. He had a whole speech prepared when we arrived."
"And no matter what anypony tells you, I most certainly did not widdle when I saw the spooky skeleton in the entryway," Almanac said to Luna. "Overcast says that's Princess Celestia. Is that true? Is that really her? Why would Princess Celestia be a skeleton? How come this is the first time I've heard about this?"
Overwhelmed somewhat, Luna did manage to say, "It is."
"I told you so," Overcast said to his friends. "And there is no evidence of widdle. Not at all. Not a drop."
"Yeah"—Almanac bowed her head a bit—"not a drop."
"This place is fantastic," Wednesday said. "But I do worry what will happen if my light fizzles out. I mean, it is dark down here. I'm just a bit terrified that I'll get lost and won't be able to find my way out… which is a bit silly, considering that Overcast comes down here all the time and he's, well, I don't want to say that Overcast is fine, because he's not. He's not fine at all. But he hasn't vanished and become a missing pony. I'm very, very worried though about the lights going out."
"The creaking of your leg braces in the darkness will surely attract the attention of the resident grue—"
"Shut it, Overcast! You promised! No scary stuff! Keep your promise!"
Scolded, and rightfully so, Overcast sighed. "Very well. Sorry, Whinny."
"Grues aren't real," Almanac said to Wednesday. "I've never read a credible mention of them, so they cannot possibly be real. No grues. None."
Saying nothing, Luna wondered what the grues lurking in the dark thought of this information.
She moved closer to the table so that she might have a better look, Curious about whatever it was that the four were doing. A game of some sort. These were mindful foals; while the space was occupied, a huge mess had not been made. Then again, Overcast came here regularly, and he no-doubt cleaned up after himself. She wondered how he occupied himself down here in the dark, cut off from his eavesdropping. Study perhaps. No distractions. He seemed to be that sort.
"What are you doing?" asked Luna.
"We're playing Ogres & Oubliettes!" was Almanac's excited squeak of response.
"Overcast was going to teach us magic," Top Notch said to Luna. "But Alma, she kept all this stuff in her bag. No friends. None. At all. But she kept everything in her bag in the off chance she might make friends and then have somepony to play with. She made a sad face. How could we say no? Felt a bit… heartless, saying no."
"Ogres & Oubliettes?" Standing right next to the table now, Luna looked down at the game.
"She had everything needed for a quick session," Wednesday said. "A mini-manual, a deck full of monster cards, the cardboard figures, dice, and some pre-made character sheets. It wasn't hard to start. At all. I'm playing a bard."
"And I'm a foul-mouthed barbarian… who sometimes has anger issues and hurls poo." The expression on Top Notch's face as he said these words was one of confused guilt. "Being angry is… rather… cathartic."
"I'm an alchemist," Almanac said to Luna and she drummed her front hooves against the table in her excited state. "I think Overcast is playing himself though. Which isn't very sporting. He's an arcanist and—"
"I am an arcanist," Overcast said, interrupting. "In real life."
Smiling sweetly, Almanac leaned over in Overcast's direction and said, "I think I'm a better caster than you."
"Doubtful," he replied, and then he looked away with an expression of irked annoyance.
"Anything you can do, I can do better—"
"No, you can't."
"—I can do anything better than you."
"Stop that at once!" Luna commanded. "You'll start a musical moment. Just stop."
"Aww… I wanted to sing." Folding her thin forelegs over her barrel, Almanac let out a frustrated huff.
"It's like a contagion," Luna remarked whilst she rolled her eyes. "One little pony starts to sing and then all of you do."
There was a hot snort of contempt from Overcast, but not a word was spoken.
Unfolding her legs, Almanac cast a sly sidelong glance in Overcast's direction—and then in an act of direct targeted defiance, she let rip an even louder snort. Amazingly, no boogers were blasted from her hairy little nostrils and little Almanac preserved her feminine dignity. In response, Overcast's head swiveled around so that he could stare at her with his unswollen eye. Then, very deliberately, with painstaking contemptible slowness, he heaved out a derisive snort—something so perfect that it just had to be practiced in a mirror on a daily basis. Which was a thing that young aristocrats were prone to do when seeing their own reflection just after waking up.
When Almanac drew in a deep breath, Luna said, "Don't you dare start singing."
Everything slipped out in a heated huff with Almanac saying, "Aww, why not?"
"Because, Overcast and I have much to discuss. Which means that the rest of you need to go. It's getting late. Things are safe… enough. Though I daresay that school might be a bit strange in the coming days. If school is even kept in session."
"That sounds serious," Almanac said and her words were spoken on the verge of a sing-song voice.
Now, Luna had the dreadful urge to break out into song and it was all Almanac Avocado's fault. She couldn't talk; because the compulsion to sing was there, she had to almost hold her breath and wait for it to pass. It was every bit as awful as it was annoying and she had no desire whatsoever to perform a concert for the grues lurking where the light ended. The way that Overcast stared at her suggested that he knew of her struggle, and she resented him more than a little for being so perceptive. He would suffer; oh yes, he would be made aware of the length, breadth, and depth of misery.
She very much wanted to tell him that in song.
"I don't want this to end," Almanac said to Luna. "This has been the weirdest best day of my life. Well, second best day of my life. It's tied. It's tied with the day I got accepted into this school." Her face saddened. "It all went downhill from there. But I made friends. My glasses got fixed. I found out there is school intrigue. I got to play Ogres & Oubliettes. And Overcast promised that he'd teach me how to be a unicorn."
Luna was so surprised by this that all thoughts of song fled from her. "He did?"
"Yep. He said that I'd be the most unicorniest unicorn that ever farted glitter!"
"Did he now…" As Luna spoke, Overcast squirmed and then found something fascinating to look at in the darkness beyond the light.
"He did." Oblivious to the silent exchange, Almanac's owlish gaze remained fixated upon Luna.
"He'll be made to keep his word. That's a very important part of being a unicorn." After a deep breath, amusement set in and Luna found it increasingly difficult to keep a straight face. Almanac would be fine. She had a rough go of things, but she would recover. But Overcast couldn't be allowed to poison her mind. Something would have to be done about that, and whatever damage was already done would need to be sorted out.
It would be fine though. Wednesday and Topper would get Overcast sorted out soon enough. Wednesday especially, but Topper was a good enough sort. Luna knew she had to play her part, and that was hard because she didn't know how to begin. Having friends helped. Yes, they were young, but they would grow. In an eyeblink, they would grow. In no time at all, they would be adults. Eventually, she would mourn them. Given enough time, Luna would remember them in ways that distant great-grandfoals would not, for such was the way of things.
But for now, they were young—and were good company.
"Over half of your teachers have vanished and are nowhere to be found."
"Say again?" Blinking, the light of his horn flickering somewhat, Top Notch shook his head. "Excuse me, but would you mind repeating that?"
"About half of the teachers have vanished," Luna said. "Overcast, you were somewhat correct. Something is off with the teachers. It wasn't always this way. Discord escaped recently and he's probably to blame. Some type of hex or maybe a curse on the school. An attempt to damage Equestria's future. Or maybe just a petty attack to hurt my sister. All of this will be investigated, of course. My sister, Celestia, said that the teachers grew cold and strange to her over time.
"The guard went to collect Mister Burr, but he was gone. More than that, his home was searched, and the guard found that nopony has lived there for months. The homes of the other teachers are similarly deserted." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "I am trusting you with this information. Please, keep it to yourselves."
"How do that many ponies just vanish? And why would they stop living at home?" Perplexed, Wednesday scowled and shook her head. "Where else would they be living?"
"The most likely answer," Overcast said whilst rubbing his two front hooves together, "is that they are underground somewhere. I mean, if they are anywhere at all. I come down here to hide and to give my mind a rest. If a pony does not wish to be found, dozens of yards of solid rock will hide them. This"—he gestured all around him—"is my sanctum. But probably not for much longer, considering that I've been caught."
Realising that she had a bargaining chip, Luna made a mental note.
"Why does rock do that though?" asked Top Notch.
"Magic requires some kind of connection between the two points," Overcast replied. "It's like how the glass interfered with my teleportation of frogs into the water coolers. The line of sight became impeded. A simple wall can be enough to block some magic, but if you can perceive beyond the wall, then your magic can reach beyond it as well. I suspect that, given enough time, I'll be able to zap something by using my remote listening to get a lock on it. Won't need to see it."
Almanac nodded to show she understood. "Sort of like how you were able to get around that bag over your head. But why though? I mean, why learn all of this?"
"Because"—the colt paused, either for dramatic effect or to collect his thoughts—"we live in dangerous times. Because I don't want to ever get into a fair fight. Because, I crave power and understanding. Because I want to understand the how and why of magic, and not just cast spells. Any fool can cast a spell, but to understand that spell, to know how and why it works… that is why I do what I do. I don't have a talent for magic. I don't even have my mark. So I have to work for every bit of understanding that I have. It doesn't come to me naturally. But… it is what I crave more than anything else."
"You know, Overcast, that might just be the most honest thing you've ever said. Or perhaps it would be better to say the most revealing."
The young colt peered at Wednesday, but did not respond.
"I feel the same way about my trumpet," she said to him. "Sincerely, I do. It started to consume my life there for a time. But I might've just been escaping. I want to understand music. Not just make music, I want to know why it does what it does. Why it makes ponies feel things. Why some notes make a pony feel blue, while a different collection of notes makes them feel happy. I want to understand why music causes feeling and emotion."
"Then you are not stupid," Overcast said in return.
"That's a bit rude, don't you think? I mean, I'm flattered to hear you say that, but I'm also bothered by how you think so little of others."
He shrugged, but had nothing to say.
"I probably should get going," Top Notch said and he cast a regretful glance around him. "It's probably later than I realise, and I don't live here at the school. I must get home, otherwise, my parents will worry."
"Me too." Sighing, Almanac shook her head and then her lower lip protruded.
"Topper…"
"Yes, Princess Luna?" He peered up at her, his eyes bright with the need to please.
"Please, walk Miss Avocado home and see to her safety. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, of course I can, Princess Luna!"
"Now, can you find your way out of here?" asked Luna.
"I have a map," Almanac said to Luna and she flashed a toothy grin.
"Of course you do." A complete lack of surprise showed on Luna's amused face.
"You should show Princess Luna your map." Reaching over, Wednesday prodded Almanac with her hoof. "Show her. Go on."
"Um, I don't want to be boastful."
"Having a superiour talent or skill does not make one boastful."
Throwing an imperious stare across the table, Wednesday glared daggers at the smug little unicorn colt. "Shut it, Overcast."
Moving closer, Luna asked, "May I please see your map?"
In response, little Almanac pulled out a sheet of paper and held it in a glittering dweomer of telekinesis. On the paper was strange markings that Luna did not recognise, but they had a wibble of magic about them. Concentrating, Almanac's tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth, and after a few seconds, she touched the sheet of paper to her horn. There was a rustling sound, the crinkle-crackle of paper, and then it came to life.
As Luna stood watching, the markings on the paper shifted, moved, and then jumped off of the page. At first it was as if penciled lines just appeared, but then the spaces between the lines began to fill in with slightly less than real paper. It was semi-transparent, more illusion than anything else, and a three dimensional projection constructed itself. Luna could quite clearly see the passages, the tunnels, the lifts, everything. A three dimensional map was quite a trick, and Luna was impressed by what she saw.
"This is what got me into this school for gifted unicorns," Almanac said, almost whispering these words to Luna. "I'm not better than anypony else. I've just got a way with magic. Princess Celestia said she's never seen anything like it in all of her days. And then I asked her how many days she had and my mother almost fainted. Whoops."
When Almanac pulled the paper away from her horn, the projected image persisted. She smiled down at her creation with wide, proud eyes. She turned it this-a-way, and that-a-way, all so Luna could have a better look at it from every possible angle. It was wondrous magic, rare, unique, and precious. Just like her sister, Luna had never seen anything quite like this, and had no frame of reference for what to call it. Illusionary cartography?
"What's in my head goes onto the paper," Almanac explained without actually explaining much of anything. "Not even Princess Celestia knows how it works. But I'm supposed to figure it out before I graduate."
That was a daunting project and Luna regretted that she did not have the time to discuss it. There was much to do and she very much wanted to speak with Overcast. Alone. As she stood there watching, the magic faded away, becoming a little less real with each passing second, until it was nothing at all. The pencil lines were the last things to fade away and Almanac was left holding a sheet of paper with strange markings on it. Luna realised that she was looking at raw magic glyphs, random occurrences that sometimes happened, such as when magically charged lightning struck a stone and left behind curious markings.
She would have to have a talk with Almanac later.
"Come on," said Luna, and she gestured with both wings. "Clean up. Leave nothing behind. Almanac, when there is time, you and I shall discuss at length your map and perhaps we can all work together to sort out its workings."
"Really? All of us?" Almanac practically beamed. "Like, friends working together to solve a mystery?" Her voice changed, becoming a mock-baritone and her eyebrows furrowed in an evil way. "And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for you meddlesome foals!"
Rather confused, Wednesday reacted, asking, "What?"
"I read a lot of mystery books," Almanac said. "A whole lotta murder-mystery books."
"And do you learn anything from those?" asked Top Notch. "My mom, she says I should only read books I can learn from."
"I've learnt how to hide a body," Almanac replied.
"Say, that's useful, don't you—"
"Overcast!" both Wednesday and Luna said together in unison.
"Sometimes the talent picks the pony," he said as he crouched into a defensive position. "What do you think a mark for hiding bodies might look like?"
"Something lumpy rolled up in a rug or maybe—"
"Alma… we want to discourage Overcast's villainy."
"Maybe you, Whinny," Almanac replied. "But if he becomes a villain, I'll have a real-life murder-mystery to solve and that'd be absolutely capital."
"Please"—gesturing with her wings once more, Luna tried to redirect the foals' attention to a more pressing issue—"clean up after yourselves."
"Wait." Raising a hoof, Overcast repeated himself. "Wait. If I became a villain… a murdering villain as you're suggesting, you'd hunt me down and bring me to justice?"
Almanac paused, thoughtful, and then she became quite animated. "As foals, they were friends. Companions. Besties. But he turned to evil. And she turned to fudge sundaes which made her bottom big, just as her mother said they would. When he did the unthinkable, she did the only thing that could be done: she hunted down her former friend, who somehow always stayed one step ahead of her. Drama! Intrigue! Sexual tension! Betrayal—"
"Wait, sexual tension?"
"I have no idea what it is, but I've read it sells books," Almanac said to Overcast. "Seems smart to include it."
"Well, if I am going to have a successful turn to villainy, somepony is going to have an accident and fall down some stairs—"
"Overcast!" Wednesday hollered, and this seemed to be her new hobby, considering the passion poured into her outburst.
But Almanac responded well; she turned to Overcast, mouth opened, eyes wide, and she dramatically reacted to his villainous treachery with a melodramatic gasp of surprise. "The young ingénue, caught completely unawares, fell down the stairs but was saved by her plush bottom, which was entirely too big already, big enough to be a target for teasing. Saved by her plump rump, the young ingénue had to learn to love herself. All of herself. Even the parts she wasn't fond of."
Then, before anypony could respond, in a moment of bashful sincerity, Almanac leaned close to Overcast and said, "Thanks for playing along. Nopony really does that. They just think I'm weird. You're very sweet. Thank you."
His face darkened a bit, his ears pinned back, and Overcast replied, "Don't mention it."
"Also"—still she whispered, and her eyes gleamed with a mischievous light—"yes I caa-aa-aan."
"No singing!" Luna snapped. "Just cleaning! Otherwise, we'll be here all night!"
"Aw!" Huffing, Almanac fell over onto her back and then flailing her limbs about, she laid there. "Singing is all I have. It's free and doesn't cost anything. Just… kill me now. Wrap me up in a nice rug, if one can be spared, and dump me into a river someplace."
"What a waste of a perfectly good rug," Overcast remarked.
"I'm very confused right now and I don't know who to scold," Wednesday confessed. As she spoke, she carefully packed up the various paper and cardboard bits of the Ogres & Oubliettes game strewn across the table. "If I didn't know better, I'd say I was having a middle-sister moment."
Feeling bad, and perhaps a little guilty, Luna lifted Almanac from the floor. She righted the filly, got her legs beneath her, and made certain that the foal had her balance before letting go. Almanac was the odd one of this group in more ways than one. Still of single-digit age, while the rest of the group were called 'tweens' in the modern parlance. Not quite teenagers, but neither were they young foals. That awkward place in between. But Almanac had to be the most awkward of all, because it was clear that she didn't quite belong to either age group. She was far too mature for her younger peers, but not quite old enough to fit in elsewhere.
It had to be hard on her.
And that was just the surface stuff. Down deeper, there were other issues, other troubles, other difficulties that contributed and made her life complicated. Being poor in Canterlot was practically a crime, or at least treated as one by the well-to-do. The school had callous social cliques, from the sounds of things, and when Luna turned a critical eye upon Almanac, she could see all of the symptoms of crippling loneliness—including the tremendous effort made to hide it.
"This parting is only temporary, I assure you. Overcast and I have much to discuss about his future. I am sorry that playtime came in such a small portion, and I will do whatever I can to make it up to you. This I promise."
"I'm sorry about saying what I did about beanstalks," Almanac said to Luna. "You're really nice. Really, really nice. Even if you won't let me sing. My parents aren't going to believe me when I tell them about everything that's happened today. They'll think I'm telling stories again." She blinked several times, pawed the ground with her small hooves, and scooted closer to Luna.
"Do you think you could do me a solid and stop by for din-din sometime and make sure my parents know I'm not telling stories? That all of this is not my overactive imagination? That'd be great if you could. But if you can't, I understand."
"We shall schedule a time," Luna replied. "But for now, everything must be cleaned up and we must bid each other farewell."
Barrel hitching, Almanac gasped a few times before she could say, "Why is this so hard?" Just before the first tear could fall, her glasses fogged over from her panting and heavy breathing. "I'm so afraid right now."
Reaching down, Luna placed a wing upon Almanac's neck, and then in silence, she tried to console the distraught filly. For some unknown reason, Luna thought of Twilight Sparkle, and how difficult it was to say goodnight after having such a lovely time together. The fear of everything ending, never to begin again. Stricken in a curious way, Luna felt her emotions threatening to overwhelm her with every sniffle that came from Almanac's twitching, somewhat snotty nose.
"And now I am gonna lose my friends because I'm acting like a baby!"
Quite suddenly, Overcast was there, right beside Luna and Almanac. She hadn't heard him approach; she had completely failed to notice that he'd moved from his spot. He moved with far too much quiet in a manner far too familiar. Then, Wednesday came into focus just behind him, her leg braces creaking and squeaking with her every movement. Just behind Wednesday was Top Notch, and when he bumped into her, there was a clatter of metal from her leg braces.
"Sorry, Whinny."
"Don't worry about it, Topper. I like it when you touch me."
"I meant what I said," Overcast said to Almanac. "I'll teach you unicorn stuff. We all will. In spite of myself, I've learned something from all of this. Not sure what it is just yet, but I'll sort it out with time. I wish that we'd met sooner and under better circumstances. You've found me during a really weird moment in my life."
Sniffling, almost snotting, Almanac asked, "You don't think I'm a crybaby spaz?"
Overcast's response was one of considerable kindness: "No."
"I'm so insecure and thin-skinned." These words came out in something between a whisper and a murmur, and little Almanac closed her eyes whilst she sniffled. "All my emotions get the best of me at the worst moments. It's so embarrassing. I'm such a dork."
A massive snot bubble emerged from Almanac's nose, expanded greatly, and then burst in the way that all bubbles do, leaving behind droplets on her spectacles. She sighed, shook her head, and then squeaked when Overcast pulled her glasses off. In silence, he cleaned them for her, and when he was done, he slipped them back onto her face without stabbing her in the eye, or any other unfortunate mishap that would have ruined the moment.
Then, leaning in so close that his lips almost touched Almanac's ear, he whispered to her, "No, you can't, can't, can't…"
She sobbed; just once—a heart rending sound—and then responded in such a way that could only be described as being earth ponyish in nature: she glomped Overcast in the most savagely gentle manner possible, a high speed collision of exquisite softness. With her forelegs wrapped around his neck, she clung to him, and together, they waited for the storm to pass.
Standing over the pair, Luna watched them. This made what came next easier, though she could not say how or why. Perhaps because there was still enough of Overcast to save. He was misguided—to the point of brokenness, no less—but parts of him had survived the events that had caused him to wither on the vine. She would trim away the dead things and save whatever was left.
In doing so, Luna knew that she would save herself.