An Untitled Story about Bats

by ScarletSet

Old Magic

“I couldn’t help but notice that the Everfree Forest isn’t listed in your brochure.” The reddish unicorn paused to adjust his glasses as he magically paged through the pamphlet. He kept his head perfectly still lest the barber shave off more than he ought. His dark mane, once a wild, dark mess like a gorgon or perhaps a vampire’s bride, now ended neatly above his shoulders as the trimmings fell unto the white sheet around his shoulders like black, heavy feathers.

“To tell you the truth,” the barber said around a comb in his teeth. He was a minty-greenish pegasus with a bright head of hair tied into a bun. At first glance the unicorn would have never let a pony with a fashion-sense like him touch his head, but he was doing well enough. “Most of the ponies around here like to forget it exists.” He doused the unicorn’s mane with his spray bottle before he carried on combing. “What’s got you interested? You a reporter or something?”

“Writer,” the unicorn said.

“Neat. Fiction or nonfiction?”

“I do both, but for my next piece I prefer something more personal. Raw. Untamed, untapped, …”

“And your first choice is the Everfree Forest?”

“I know of no other place where magic runs quite so wild. I’ve visited the tombs of the surrounding territories, the cliff-faces where the gryphons live and the bones of monsters lie, and yet all of their mysteries feel so… mundane. None of them have the magic I seek.”

The barber snipped a piece of the unicorn’s mane off, and he snorted to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. You’re just obviously not from around here.”

“Have I invoked some sort of taboo? Is it some unspoken rule that the forest not be mentioned, is that why it’s missing from your pamphlet?”

The pegasus laughed again. “Nah, it’s just… Nopony’s scared of it the way they used to be, but at the same time they’re happy to just leave it be, ya dig?”

“I’m not sure I do.”

“Simply put—” The pegasus measured out a length of mane with his comb and made sawing, sweeping cuts with his scissors. “—the mystery’s gone.” The unicorn couldn’t feel a thing. Then again, horses tend not to.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Everyone here used to be scared of it. Nobody knew what kinds of monsters lived in there, why the plants and the animals grow the way they do, or why anypony would be crazy enough to try and live in there… But they’ve lived through too much, and now they know all the forest’s tricks. They even know it can be controlled, thanks in no small part to—”

“Let me guess.” The resignation dripped from the unicorn’s voice like a molten liquid. “The new princess?”

“You catch on quick!” The pegasus fussed with the back of the unicorn’s mane. “Er, do you want to keep the pony tail or should I just take it all off?”

“Just take an inch or two off, if you’d please.”

“Gotcha.” And the barber continued his work quietly for a minute or two. “Not a fan, I take it? Of the new princess I mean?”

The unicorn stewed quietly and snorted a stray strand of hair from his face. “I can respect her power and wisdom,” he said. “But in my experience, princesses have a way of… how do I put this kindly… They take the myth out of the magic. Or the magic out of the myth, one of the two.” The barber hmmed to himself, and the unicorn continued. “I’m not saying the Crystal Empire should have remained frozen, I’m not saying that Equestria should have let the cold and chaos divide it again, and I’m certainly not saying that the Mare in the Moon should have stayed where she was. I just can’t help but wonder how Equestrian mythology would have developed if these legends remained so for just a while longer.”

“Never got a chance to see them up close for yourself, didja?” the barber asked.

“No, I didn’t,” the unicorn said. “And I would have settled for at least being there when they were resolved, but alas…”

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” the barber said. “My big-baby-sister was off doing all kinds of crazy things, and the moment I realized how much I was missing out, she was all done having adventures. She works at the School now, if you can believe it. Maybe I could introduce you to her. Maybe she’d know a thing or two about where you could find what you’re looking for.”

“Pass,” the unicorn said. “I’m sure she’s a nice mare, but she’s probably busy, and if she works with the school, she’s likely familiar if not close to the princess, yes?”

“...Maybe?”

“Indeed. If I ever got help, I’d prefer something more ground-level. Besides, this is something I’d rather do alone. There are some things you can’t feel or understand when you’re in company.”

““If you say so,” the pegasus held up a mirror. “Howzit look? A little more? Too uneven?”

The unicorn lightly shook his mane. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The barber removed the heavy sheet and shook it out on the floor and swept away the small pieces of hairs with the very tips of his wings. “No problemo, my good sir…?”

“Scarlet Script.” The unicorn shook the last shavings of hair from the shoulders of his dark coat and straightened his white tie.

“Sir Scarlet Script, you have a good day, and enjoy your stay in Ponyville!”

Ponyville was a tiny world in itself, a world of paradoxes and contrasts - but that was the reason Scarlet Script arrived in the first place. What started as one of the most ho-hum, backwater settlements this side of Canterlot had grown into a dense, constantly expanding center for travel and commerce. Thanks in no small part, of course, to the newest reigning monarch and her massive castle that now dominated the skyline, and her new school nearby.

The whole town was filled with new buildings that stood hard against the dirt roads and thatch-roofed houses of Ponyville-prior. A classical marketplace for merchants and their stalls; a small supermarket with air-conditioning and frozen goods just around the corner, across from the new library. Small, red single-roomed schoolhouse on one side of town; massive community center on the other. Two clashing identities, though perhaps not for much longer. The old Ponyville may very well be swallowed up by the newer, shinier Ponyville in a matter of years.

And then there was the forest: the original contrasting force, the original paradox. The lively, if quiet, homely establishment always lived in fear of the dark, shifting and unknown forest that sat to the south, daring creatures to enter its folds and learn its secrets; exit not guaranteed. It was the only speck in all of Equestria that the new princess and her adventures had not entirely changed, and that was why Scarlet Script sought it out.

Creatures of every shape and size walked the streets, but not as much as usual he was told. School was out for the next several days and most of the students had gone home to be with their families. Anycreature in town was likely a tourist like him.

The guesthouse where Scarlet stayed was across from an old, open-air restaurant. He stopped for an early dinner and popped into his room to go through his supplies one last time. He found his bag, notes and camera, and departed for the edge of town where he’d find the Everfree forest.

“Are you lost, son?” an old mare asked as he passed the last house. She sat at a bench and sipped from a cup. Tea, presumably.

“I was heading south,” Scarlet told her. “I’m sightseeing.”

“You’d best be careful, son! Go too far that way and you’ll wind up in the Forest!”

“Nothing to worry about, I’ll be right in and out.”

“Wouldn’t you rather visit the school or the palace?” the mare asked. “That’s where all of the other tourists go.”

“If I wanted to see princesses, professors, or academia, I would have gone to Canterlot,” Scarlet said. “I came to Ponyville for the one thing it has that the other cities and towns don’t.”

“And what’s that?”

“Old magic.”

“Be careful, son.”

But Scarlet didn’t hear her because he had already started walking. Even from here he could see the dark cluster of trees on the horizon and the soft sheet of fog that covered it. The sun dipped lower.

Scarlet Script did not find the Everfree Forest. It found him. The sun had set a long time ago, but the thick canopy would have blocked out the sky even before that. It was hard to see where the gentle, pony-tended plants ended and the wild, gnarled plants of the forest began. He could have cast a spell for light, but that would only work if he wanted to keep the dim and the dark away. He wanted to walk in the dark for a while longer to let the delicious dread wash him over him.

He always considered himself a horror writer. Not the gruesome kind, just the kind that enjoyed giving and feeling a good scare. A taste of the unknown. A gentle whisper of doubt that when hissed at the right time could send cold shivers from your tail to the tips of your hooves. These were what Scarlet wanted and the forest seemed to be the only place where these sorts of feelings still lived and breathed outside the pages of dusty old books. Or whatever schlock he managed to write.

If it weren’t for the princesses and their battles with the forces of evil, the forest might have swallowed the town a long time ago, and for some reason the fact that it didn’t happen made Scarlet disappointed. How would the forces of the forest affect ponies? Why did everypony have to be so sensible and keep their distance? Nothing would ever be found out that way.

It was less than a twenty minute walk, but with each passing second the sky grew darker and the noises of the forest grew louder. Mushrooms and flowers lit up certain paths. Other lights drifted and floated about in the shadows. Some of these came in pairs, and some of them blinked at him. A coiling vine caught Scarlet’s heel and nearly made him trip, and the forest hooted with laughter. Every step he took there seemed to be an incredible echo, as if something were following him or vice versa. Sometimes a distant howl or roar shook the trees and his bones and made him freeze in his path.

It made him incredibly happy. This was the old magic he was seeking.

A massive organism in and of itself. Its members groping the ground, clawing the clammy air, peering at me through the veil. Old forces whispering, wondering, waring. The forest itself knows not its own secrets. It invites the living to come and see, though some are permitted not to leave and---

“I should be writing this down…” Scarlet stopped against a tree and pulled out his pen and paper. He flashed his horn ever so dimly and hastily wrote as his magic held both the paper and the pen still. A shadow streaked across the forest floor. A gust of wind blew at his newly groomed mane. His magic faltered, and his paper and quill found themselves in a puddle. Scarlet grumbled to himself and fished his notes free.

A screech. Not a cry of an animal or even a pony. It rattled his bones and made his blood run cold. It had to be a monster, and it was dangerously close. He could barely contain his excitement or keep the smile from his face.

He readied his camera and his flashlight and circled around the clearing. He checked for glowing eyes, claw marks, torn leaves and branches, the usual. He found nothing. This creature was incredibly stealthy. Despite his best efforts to appear as indefensive and vulnerable as possible, the creature didn’t return just yet.

“Hello?” he cried out. “Could you do that thing again? I promise I’ll pay attention this time!” Very close attention, indeed, he thought as he readied his camera.

And yet still nothing.

“Hello?”

A pair of red eyes in the dark. Without even thinking, Scarlet aimed his light and took a picture. The creature bashed into him and flew away. His light went flying and his camera lay crushed in the mud. He almost reached for his camera to retrieve the film, but he thought better and ran to retrieve his light. It cast shadows on the bushes and grass and made the forest around him seem taller and even more encircling.

He’d be lying if he wasn’t finally a little unsettled. Scarlet shone the light on his broken camera. The outer shell and mechanism was completely cracked, but he couldn’t make out the film roll from where he stood. Perhaps the rest of the camera had protected it.

When he reached down to retrieve it, Scarlet heard a twig break behind him. He slowly turned around and met the glowing green eyes, the jagged teeth, and the musty breath of a Timberwolf. It stood perfectly still. It was a mere pony-length away from him.

“Rats, my camera had to break just before you came along.”

The Timberwolf snarled and lunged at the unicorn. He dove out of the way and scampered to the edge of the clearing. The Timberwolf gripped the earth and spun around, and with no beat missed it launched into another pounce. It missed Scarlet’s tail by mere inches. Now he was quite happy to run back towards the town.

He ran kicking up chunks of dense dark dirt, the Timberwolf soundless behind him. His back legs felt its breath wafting after him. The edge of the forest was barely in view before Scarlet felt a swipe. It unsteadied him enough to lose his footing. He rolled through the mud and grass and came to a stop at the base of a tree. His light landed with its glow nearly in his face.

For an instant the green eyes of the Timberwolf regarded him as it stalked closer. And then another shadow, smaller, faster, dove from out of nowhere and pulled the wolf away into the dark. The flashlight blinded him and he could make none of it out. There were indignant howls, screeches, the sounds of a struggle, and then silence.

Scarlet waited until he was sure nothing else would emerge from the dark before he pulled himself to his feet. That was enough for one night, he decided. He slowly and painfully made for his light. A floating face greeted him when he shone his light in the other direction.

He yelped and jumped back. The light rolled on the ground and lit up the auburn hooves of the earth pony stallion. He was past middle age; his mane was short and dark, where it wasn’t turning grey. He looked wary but resigned at the same time.

“On yer feet, son,” he said. Scarlet obeyed. “The exit’s this way,” the stallion gestured with his chin and bade Scarlet follow. He retrieved his flashlight and obeyed.

The two walked in silence. The forest hooted, cawed, and hissed around them as they walked. In only ten minutes the trees began to thin out and the wild grass made way for the neatly trimmed, mundane stuff he was so used to. The whole hike he could have sworn he heard scratching noises in the trees, but he told himself it was just nerves.

Scarlet decided it was safe to ask a question or two now that they were out of the woods, so to speak. “You know this place pretty well?” he asked.

“Better than anypony should,” the stallion said briskly without turning his head.

“I see…” Scarlet searched behind for any sign of being followed and thankfully found none. “And why would that be if you don’t me asking?”

“I do mind son. If I were you, I’d forget all about those woods. Nothing but trouble for a pony on his lonesome, lest you got a Princess or one of her heroes to escort you.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not. Princesses tend to make everything shiny, new and boring wherever they go. No appreciation for the old haunts.”

“You listen well, boy,” The stallion’s face was hard and set when he finally turned around and glared at Scarlet. “You were lucky. These woods… it likes to take young ones like you and just gobble ‘em up. It’ll spit you back out if you’re lucky. Most aren’t.”

“Okay then…” He couldn’t help but feel like that was an exaggeration, but he decided not to argue. The two didn’t share a word until they were safely back in town, and Scarlet heard noises the entire way.

“Does that description ring a bell?” Scarlet found himself asking about the stallion once he was back at the guesthouse. The old mare from earlier was checked in and enjoying a treat in the lobby.

“Out this late? That’s unusual for him.”

“But you have heard of him?”

“That’s Pivot. He used to live in town, but he moved away a long time ago. He visits sometimes…”

“He was the only pony I’ve talked to who seemed to actually know the woods. Why is that?”

The mare was hesitant. She could barely finish her biscuit. She shared an uneasy glance with the unicorn before she got up to go to her room. “It’s not the sort of thing to talk about,” she said.

“Why though?”

“Son, have pity on those who go through the unimaginable.” And that was all she told him.

The old mare’s words stuck with Scarlet Script as he took off his collar, coat, and glasses and got ready for a much-needed bath. He set his bag by the window opposite the door, but he found himself hesitant to prop the window open and air out the room. He snuck a peek at the sleepy, dimly lit street below. The fringes of the forest were visible from here, just how he wanted when he got the room. After the experience he had, it wasn’t quite the same. He closed the curtain and went to bathe.

The entire time he thought of Pivot, the old fellow who hated the forest so much. He almost felt guilty for receiving his help seeing how much the stallion hated the place. At the same time he remembered his broken camera that lay crushed in a drying pile of mud. He hardly cared then, but now he couldn’t get over the thought of that precious film roll perishing in the forest.

He’d have to find some way to retrieve it before he went home.

A thump from outside the bathroom got him out of the bath early. Scarlet usually welcomed unease, or doubt, or dread, but creating it as a writer or feeling it as a reader was very different from what was happening now. He thought of the scraping noises that never seemed to stop following him, that he was sure was just his imagination until now. He paused at the bathroom door and waited for the noise to die down. He slipped into the cool, drafty room and looked around.

The bed against the wall was untouched, the door was closed, but his bag was tipped over and some its contents touched the floor right beneath the window. He sighed to himself and sorted everything back together with his magic. The billowing curtains tickled his coat as he went about, kicked by the wind outside.

Outside, from the open window.

He closed the window and reached for his quill, the sharpest thing he owned, and checked the floor. From his toppled bag a trail of dirt led to the closet. The slightly open closet.

Scarlet saw the closet shudder. It opened slightly, and he saw movement behind the door. Ice ran through his veins, and he cautiously drew near. Breathing. He could definitely hear breathing. Something must have made its way through the window and into his room, where it now lay hiding, waiting for him to fall asleep.

Mustering what little bravery the night had left him, Scarlet pulled the sliding door of the closet aside and leapt back, quill at the ready. Red eyes flashed at him from the darkness of the closet. They sparkled and blinked curiously at him. Scarlet stepped closer. The eyes shut themselves, and he heard a soft yawn. He cast a tiny spell to illuminate the closet with a soft light, and saw what he had not expected to see.

The creature did not have claws or many limbs or two heads, it was merely a pony. A gray filly. Her tail was slung around the pole inside and she rested upside down. Her legs were tucked tight against her body. If she had a cutie mark, he couldn’t see one. She swayed lightly and breathed softly. All a far cry from the nebulous danger he had predicted, and yet he found himself mildly disappointed. Old habit of his, perhaps.

She didn’t look at him again, she seemed fast asleep.

“What in Celestia's name… how did you get in here?” he hesitantly reached out a hoof and prodded her shoulder. “Hey you, up! You can’t just go around sleeping in pony’s closets! Imagine what would happen if somepony found you.”

Finally the filly looked at him again blinked her wide, red eyes at him. He glared at her and waited for his response.

“Roo?”

“That’s not a word. Speak ponish, please.”

“Roo.” Her eyes drooped and she yawned. Her mouth was full of tiny, needly fangs. She shuffled her limbs and tucked herself in to sleep again. She flapped her wings. Her gray, leathery wings.

Scarlet’s quill dropped to the floor. He was pretty sure he screamed but part of it got caught in his throat. His spell fizzled and he backed away into his bed. He tripped and hit his head hard against the bedknob and found himself sprawled on the floor.

With a soft rustling sound, the creature slipped down and out from the closet. He heard its hoofs plod along the floor towards him. Scarlet dared peek up from the floor and watch as it drew closer. It looked only slightly frightful, and he realized that as it sniffed at his hoof, his shoulder and his mane that it meant no harm. He heard a grunt, a deep growl in the creature’s throat, but then an inquisitive chirp. It nudged him, and he found himself carefully rising to his hooves.

“Why… you’re a bat pony,” he said.

“Roo,” the filly cooed at him.

“I’d assumed bat ponies were only a myth. Well… evidently not if you’re anything to go by. Where did you come from?” he asked. The filly sat on her haunches and tilted her head at him. “Where is your home?” he asked slightly slower. "Where do you belong?"

“Roo,” she said. She walked up to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Well, I guess I asked. ...Hold on, one moment.” Scarlet walked away, and the filly flopped unto the floor without his support. He heard her coo indignantly as he opened the door and peaked outside.

“Hello?” he called out weakly. “Did somebody lose their filly?” He called that again once or twice in incrementally louder tones, but each time he was met with no answer. When he turned around, the bat filly was already right behind him waiting, sitting on her haunches.

“Look, sneaking into stranger’s rooms to sleep is very… well, it’s dangerous. Not that you seem to know any better.” Scarlet opened the door completely and stepped behind the filly. She looked back and forth between him and the dimly lit hallway. “Go on,” he gave her a nudge. “Go find your parents, or go back home.” The filly remained absolutely still. She gave him another look and cooed. “Don’t be obstinate! It’s late and I’m tired and I really don’t have the time for this!”

This time he gave the filly a shove that nearly sent her toppling over her front hooves. She cried out and held the doorframe. She looked back at him with pleading eyes. The moment he let up, she slunk away and hid behind him, trembling. “What, you’re afraid to go outside?” The filly didn’t answer. She just looked up at him with her bright red eyes.

The temptation to wash his hooves of the entire encounter was tantalizing. What business was this of his? Nobody could blame him for sending a strange child away. After all, what guarantee did he have that his company would do the filly any good? 

At the same time, he thought of how scared she looked, and how her small body trembled.

Her ears perked up when he closed the door and locked it with a sigh. He gave her a look. He was about to say something when the filly’s eyes turned to slits and the muscles in her back tightened up. For a second he assumed it was ready to pounce and attack him. Somebody would have to come to his rescue by then, what with all the noise, right? Instead, the filly all-but disappeared over the sound of fluttering wings, and suddenly his head was very heavy.

Scarlet groaned and took a step forward, and almost immediately he had to lunge and grip the bedframe for support. He nearly tipped over backwards. His gaze focused on the closed window and the reflection it offered. He saw the scarcely dried, messy-maned unicorn blinking tiredly back him -- with the small gray filly comfortably perched upon his head, smiling almost. She made tiny breathing noises in her chest and in her throat, almost like a cat. 

Pity threatened to take hold of him regarding the poor, lost freak-of-nature filly that had simply sought shelter in his room and surely meant him no harm. It was almost like happening upon a friendly stray animal or being met in bed by the pet of the house and not having the heart to gently shoo it away.

Scarlet Script, however, was full of heart and very tired.

With a simple tilt of his head, the filly dropped to the floor with a thump. She scurried unto her haunches and looked up at him, no indignance, no understanding, just looked at him.

“Roo,” she said.

“That’s all well and good but I don’t have time for this,” Scarlet squeezed his eyes shut. “You are going back to where you came from, but that is going to have to wait for tomorrow. If you’d excuse me, I’d like to go to bed.”

The filly didn’t say anything. When Scarlet stepped away to turn off the lights, the filly followed. He tried to ignore her. He clicked the light, and instantly the filly was at his legs. He felt her trembling again.

“A bat that’s afraid of the dark?” he asked. He clicked the light back on. The filly’s wide red eyes gazed up at him. “...Look, go back into the closet in the dark, the way you were before, and once you’ve fallen asleep, I’ll hit the lights, deal?”

Beat.

“Roo.”

“The closet, I said! Can you even understand me?” The filly tilted her head. It took her a moment until she stepped away. She kept her eyes trained on Scarlet. She looked over her shoulder as she made her way across the room in thoughtful ginger steps. He watched as she slung herself upside down on the bar, tucked her limbs in, and politely slid the closet door shut behind her.

Less than a minute later he heard her soft breathing, and he turned the lights off.

“Hello! Yes, can you connect me to the school of friendship, please?” Scarlet nervously fussed the pamphlet as he held the receiver in between his ear and his shoulder. He spent this first thirty minutes awake weighing his options and settled on turning her over to what counted as the authorities. “Yes, School of Friendship? ...No I don’t have an appointment, but I do think this counts as an emergency. ...A friendship problem? I mean, it could be? Look, I’m not in town often and I need advice how to--”

“Roo?”

“Aw great, hold on one second,” Scarlet held his hoof to the receiver and peeked over his shoulder. The bat-filly sat behind him on her haunches, swishing her tail. “I told you to stay inside the room!”

Her answer was to shake out her fur and wings and reorder her hooves on the floor. She licked the last of what seemed to be biscuit crumbs from her cheek.

“Just stay where I can see you, alright?” Scarlet reoriented himself so he had a view of the entire lobby. It was very busy this morning, many ponies coming and going. There were a few weird looks from the guests, but evidently a unicorn with a bat-filly following him around was hardly the strangest thing they’d seen.

“Sorry about that,” he uncovered the phone. “Yes, I believe there’s a problem. This young filly, she won’t tell me who her parents are, and there’s something deeply wrong with her. ...Sick? No, I don’t think so. ...I already talked to the clinic and they thought I was making a great joke! ...Yes I’m sure of it. She’s… I don’t know, disturbed or something! She won’t speak and she seems to rely on base instincts and urges and -- NO!”

The bat-filly barely had time to steal another biscuit from a waiter-pony’s tray.

“Don’t you dare!” Scarlet said. “Over here, this instant!” He pointed at the floor. The filly looked between him and the waiter. She took one step forward, nabbed a treat, and then trotted off. 

“Sir, if you don’t want any extra charges you might want to keep track of your daughter.”

“She’s not mine, thank you very much! …Hello?! Yes I’m still here, don’t hang up! Look, it’s hard to convey over the phone but I really need to talk to the princess! ...Appointment? No, I don’t have one! When is she next available? ...Oh. For how long? ...Three days?! I’ll be gone by then and I need help now! Isn’t there some faculty or a headmare I could talk to? ...Her too?! Augh…”

Scarlet ran a hoof down his face. The bat-filly offered his shoulder a sympathetic, crumb-encrusted nuzzle. He idly wiped his shoulder as he spoke back into the phone.

“Yes miss, that was short of me, I’m sorry. ...No, that’s fine. You’ve been very helpful, thank you for your time.” He hung up the phone and looked at the filly. She tilted her head at him curiously. “...I guess we’re going for a walk.”

The mane salon was a small, single-story building that sat at the corner of a large park. Visitors admired the beautiful trees and flowers and the benches were occupied by couples enjoying the scenery and each other. It was much less crowded than the main street and Scarlet cut through quickly to avoid any chance of somepony noticing the bat-filly. He had tied her wings down with his coat, just to be safe

“Now, stay outside this time,” he said. “I don’t want you making a ruckus inside.”

“Roo,” the bat-filly shook about her coat once and cooed indignantly.

“I’ll take that off as soon as we can do so without scaring anypony! Now be a good girl and stay put.” The bat filly sat down. Scarlet took a step forward and she didn’t follow. He watched her as he took another, and she didn’t move. Satisfied, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Welcome!” the mare at the desk called. “How can we help you?”

“I’m just looking for a stallion who works here. He’s a pegasus, now… what was his name? He has a greenish coat and a yellow mane, a perpetual five-o-clock shadow?”

The clerk bit her hoof as she thought. “That sounds a lot like…”

“Hoy over there!” a shrill voice called from the other side of the salon. Scarlet glanced over to see Zephyr Breeze knocking the bits of hair off of a sheet as his client stepped away from the chair. “Nice buzz, cus! Who’s the handsome devil that did your do? Don’t tell me, I think I know. Come on over, I’m just finishing up. Thanks again for the good word, Sir…?”

“Scarlet Script.”

“Sir Scarlet Script, that was it! I knew it was a reddish-sounding name. Anyway, your little review made the boss very happy, and she’s finally letting me tackle real mane-styling! The man can finally spread his wings, so to speak.”

Scarlet Script offered a glance at Zephyr’s departing customer. Their hairdo was a little garish for his taste, but they seemed happy enough. “Indeed.”

“So, what brings you back so soon? If I didn’t take enough off we have a special pricing option for redoes. If I took too much off, unfortunately, I can’t help you there. Heh, manes and manestyling don’t work like that, not without magical-mane-spray, which we’re out of, so--”

“Mister Breeze, I actually need to ask you something,” Scarlet cut in. “If I had a problem that the Princess was unable to deal with, would it be inappropriate to seek the help of her staff instead, and if not how would I get in contact with them?”

The pegasus blinked. “You’re asking me because…?”

“Didn’t you say your sister works there? I remember reading the brochure when you said so.”

“Oh! I guess I did kinda blab about that, didn’t I?” Zephyr awkwardly scratched the back of his head and bobbed his man-bun up and down. When he looked behind Scarlet and his eyes lit up, the unicorn assumed he must have been standing in the way of a customer. “Tell you what, I’ll tell you all about it as I give your friend a little makeover.”

Scarlet blinked. “My friend? Who…” He already knew who he would see before he turned around. The bat-filly sat beside him, her coat still on tight, her tail swishing happily as she smiled at him. “...Great.”

“Roo!”

“Hey, boss! I’ll be taking my break a little later,” Zephyr called to the pony at the counter, who nodded her head as she paged through a magazine.

“Come on up, have a seat!” The bat-filly obeyed Zephyr and hopped unto the spinning chair. She let out thin, raspy giggles as she pushed against a desk with her hoof to turn the chair even more. Zephyr took the whole thing in stride. He neatly tucked a sheet around the filly’s shoulders mid-rotation without missing a beat. He stopped the chair with his hoof and got to work dousing her hair with a spray-bottle. She snorted and gasped like a punished kitten. Her ragged mane fought hard against the comb.

“When was the last time you had a bath?” Zephyr asked with a chuckle. “Not that it matters too much… Yer mane’s fine, just a little knotted, a little frazzled… you’re a lot like my sister. Barely touches her mane but it looks perfect all the time. You an adventurish filly? Like playing in the woods?”

Question after question and the filly said nothing. She just beamed and tapped her hooves happily. “Not much of a talker, huh? You’re a lot like my sister.”

“Mister Breeze--” Scarlet said.

“Please, just call me Zeph, and don’t worry. Shy, quiet ponies are kind of my specialty. Kids too!” He switched to a wider brush and started pulling the filly’s mane back behind her head. The bat-filly cooed happily.

“...Zeph, I need to speak with someone from the School. This pony I’ve met has this dreadful condition and I don’t feel confident in merely dropping her off at a clinic. Could you help me get in contact with the school?”

Zephyr made a strange, gulping, chuckling noise. “Well, see here. I do have a relative on staff… but as of two months ago I’m legally not allowed within one hundred feet of her students.”

“How’s that?”

“Don’t ask.” Zephyr held up the filly’s mane and scrutinized his hoof work with an artist’s eye. “This calls for a hairband. You sit tight, I’ll be right back.” The bat-filly gave a confused coo as she watched the pegasus step away. The filly set her attention on something else and idly struggled in her coat. She spied another young pegasus patron seated on the other side of the parlor as her mother sat beside her with a magazine. The two locked eyes and began a sort of staring contest.

“But you can help me talk to someone? You said you could introduce us.” Scarlet pressed. “I don’t mean to impose but…”

“Well, I’m not sure I could fly either of you there and back over my break. Plus they’d wanna know who you are and who I am and I’d have to explain everything... Not sure who’d really be there, though. All the students and half the faculty are off on that holiday. There is one other creature but she’s… well…  Ah-ha!” Zephyr produced a small rosy-red hairband and brought it over to the filly. “This should go perfectly with your eyes.”

“Zeph!”

Zephyr tied her hair into a high, scraggly ponytail. “Dude, chill. How serious is this problem of yours, anyway?”

The filly’s eyes were presently trained on her rival across the parlor. The pegasus on the other side of the room subtly made movements with her wings as the dresser fussed with her own mane. The bat-filly followed every movement, mesmerized as Zephyr added some finishing touches to her ponytail. Still she wouldn’t blink.

That was until the pegasus made a face and yelled at her. The filly nearly leapt unto the ceiling in fright and came back down hard unto the chair. The pegasus thought it was very funny and held her tummy in a fit of giggles. Even Zephyr had a chuckle. The filly did not think it was funny. The color in her face rose and her narrow eyes grew even smaller. What fur on her back that wasn’t covered by the coat and sheet rose up in spikes as a low hiss rumbled in her throat.

Before Scarlet could begin to raise a hoof, the filly shot from her seat like a viper. The sheet floated away and draped itself over Zephyr’s head. An instant later she had the young pegasus pinned to the ground. Scarlet’s coat fell to the floor.

The poor pegasus just watched as the larger filly bared her teeth and screeched at her, wings raised in a powerful display as her coat bristled and spiked. The pegasus was so taken by her strange wings that she forgot to be scared. She gawked wide-eyed at the filly, oblivious to her wordless threats.

The pegasus’s mom did not forget to be scared. She was up from her chair in a frenzy and the dresser and her tried to pull the surprisingly strong filly away. She hardly noticed. She stopped screeching and just watched as the pegasus absentmindedly reached out and touched her wings with her hoofs. The pegasus’ wings fluttered absentmindedly and the filly was once more mesmerized.

“Off of her, you… you… thing!” the mother cried.

“She’s not a thing!” Scarlet Script shot back as he hurried over. “She’s just confused!”

By now the whole salon was in a bit of an uproar. The noise made the filly back away from her quarry. She flapped her wings and attached herself to the ceiling, where she glowered at the other ponies in contempt. “Zephyr Breeze!” the pony from the desk called over. “Control your client!”

The pegasus did not seem scared or surprised at all, at least not as surprised as he should be. The whole time he just stood there, blinking.

“On it boss!” And he dashed over to where the filly clung to the ceiling. “Er… nice bat...pony…? You come on down from there! Please?” He reached up with his brush. It didn’t even reach the top, and the filly batted it away with her tail. “Come on, pretty please?” So much for working with children.

“Rooby!”

The bat filly’s eyes widened. She looked over at Scarlet.

“Rooby, down from there this instant!”  Scarlet said. “You’re upsetting everypony.” She had never heard the name before, but nonetheless complied. Her wings spread out and gently carried her to the floor again. The mother scurried to hold her daughter back, but the filly, that is Rooby, ignored her. She walked back to Scarlet and sat down.

“Roo?”

Scarlet anxiously glanced around at their small audience as he yanked his coat over with his magic. “You, miss, are in very big trouble,” he tied it around her back again.

“But I still have the shift for tomorrow, right?” Zephyr Breeze pleaded. “Can I call later to make sure?”

His boss smiled sweetly at him as she closed the door. “We’ll call you,” she said as the doors were slowly pulled shut.

“It’s a promise, then!” Zephyr called after her and followed her face as it disappeared behind the glass and wood. “Which is nice, because I really need the money!” He wasn’t answered. The doors clicked shut and were locked.

The hairdresser held his head and sighed. Scarlet Script had just finished spending the better part of half an hour apologizing to the mother of the pegasus foal from earlier. Rooby and the foal had spent the entire time comparing wingspans and manes as if they had been friends their entire lives, until the mother pulled her away. The pegasus was still jabbering to her mom about it as they left. 

“It wasn’t my idea to bring her along,” Scarlet said. 

Zephyr didn’t say anything. He just set his jaw and walked away, headed south. Scarlet glanced at Rooby before following, and she did the same. “So… if you’re free...?”

“Seeing how my schedule has miraculously opened up,” Zephyr mumbled. 

“Isn’t the school that way?” Scarlet pointed behind him.

“They won’t let me in, remember?” Zephyr said. “Besides, everyone’s away on holiday, even the princess.”

“Even your sister?”

“Dude!” Zephyr offered the unicorn another look. “She’s one of the teachers, hello?”

“Yes…? And?”

“The teachers are all friends of the princess. They all took their holiday together!”

“...I guess I just never heard of them.”

“How?! Have you been living under a rock for the last three years?”

“...” Scarlet was quiet.

“Roo!” Rooby raised her hoof as if to confess to that very thing.

“You know what, forget I asked.”

Zephyr Breeze kept stealing glances at Rooby as she walked behind Scarlet Script. They had been walking together for about twenty minutes. “She’s a little young for that,” Scarlet said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m not that kinda stallion,” Zephyr looked deep in thought, which appeared extremely paradoxical for some reason. “I just never thought I’d see a bat pony face-to-face.”

“Ditto. Where are we going exactly?”

“With school out, there’s only one creature who can help you,” Zephyr said. “Unfortunately for us she lives out of town.”

Scarlet checked the path ahead of them. “If we go any further, we’re sure to pass through the Everfree Forest!”

That got Rooby’s attention. She made a curious sound and trotted between the two stallions to listen better.

“Exactly,” Zephyr said. “That’s where she lives.”

“A creature lives in the Everfree Forest?!” Scarlet cried. “Are they mad?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Rooby didn’t seem to quite understand what they were talking about until they crossed the town limits. The wild plants of the forest loomed ahead and Rooby’s eyes turned wide with terror as an unbelieving gasp left her lips. Scarlet felt the filly bite at the end of his shirt. Her tiny body held him back surprisingly well. Her eyes were wide and worried and pleading. He took another step and managed to pull her forward, which only encouraged her to take several steps back. 

“What has gotten into you?” he muttered. 

“Rmm-ff!”

“She’s upset, isn’t it obvious?” Zephyr walked up to Rooby. “What’s on yer mind? Go on, you can tell us.”

Rooby spat out Scarlet’s shirt and made pleading, earnest noises as she shook her head.

“She can’t speak, remember?” Scarlet said. “I guess no bat pony does. Unless you happen to speak bat?”

“Yeah, no, not my thing.” Zephyr knelt down. “Now there,” he held out a hoof and set it on Rooby’s shoulder. She flinched and looked up at him. “You just have to trust me, okay? I know the forest sounds scary, but once I take you to my friend you’ll feel a whole lot better!”

Rooby must have decided then and there that she was going into the woods whether she wanted to or not. And so she fled. With a flex of her wings, Scarlet’s coat came free and she took off  towards Ponyville.

“What did you do that for?!” Scarlet grabbed his coat and took off at a gallop after her.

“I don’t know! I just said what you’re supposed to say to kids!” Zephyr took to the sky and followed.

They did not have to go far. Two blocks away, a huge cloud of smoke manifested with an ear-splitting pop. A smell like earthy plants and strong herbs filled the air.

A voice cried out. “Aha! So we meet again, my leather-winged friend!” 

As the smoke wafted away two figures appeared, the first appeared to be a floating pair of eyes situated atop several floating black bars, or ribs. This creature had stunned Rooby with a smoke bomb and now firmly pushed her to the ground with hooves set hard against her wings. “Everypony should stand back!” the creature said. “I know how to deal with this creatures like this bat.” And then the smoke cleared.

A zebra. Scarlet Script had never seen a zebra before. He shouldered his way through the crowd and made for Rooby. The poor filly struggled and coughed on the smoke. She looked up at Scarlet and held out a hoof as she cried for help. He adjusted his glasses and made for the strange creature. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when Zephyr Breeze called out.

“Zecora, over here!” The zebra’s chilling blue eyes cast a glance at Scarlet, then behind him as Zephyr flew over. Rooby struggled one last time before dropping to the ground. “Zecora listen, you probably don’t remember me but--”

“But of course,” the zebra said briskly. “Though hardly met you and I, remiss would I be not to know friends and kin of dear Fluttershy.”

“Then could you please let Rooby go? We need to take her to the school, this gentlecolt just wants to find her family.”

The zebra offered a curious glance. “So Rooby is her name? She had no such thing when last to my house she came.”

“You’ve seen her before?”

“Indeed, this is not the first we meet,” Zecora said. “Often these past few nights have I seen this rascal’s shadow, flitting and fleeing through forest Everfree.” When Zecora reached over to hold her more firmly down, the bat-filly snapped her jaws at her. Zecora tsked and shook her head. “Never so close to town has this one dared intrude. Before she seemed content to discreetly rob me of valuable herbs and fruit.” Zecora grunted as she struggled to restrain the fallen bat further. “Alas, she was absent last night. That is why I came to town expecting a fight.”

“At least let her back up!” Scarlet said. “She’s just a kid.”

There was a pause. “As you say,” Zecora loosened her grip. “...If you can promise that she won’t fly away.”

“I can,” Scarlet leaned over to Rooby. “It’s okay, she won’t hurt you.”

Rooby’s bright red eyes darted between the zebra and the unicorn. When the zebra let her up, the bat filly carefully approached Scarlet with her belly to the ground and her head down. She hopped onto his back and tiredly slunk her head over his shoulder. Zecora’s eyes were cool and discerning as she watched. She smiled. “Apologies for the scare. I was heading to the school myself, would you like me to take you there?”

Apparently Zecora was an assistant teacher of sorts. She need only nod to the security and they slipped inside the empty school. Rooby rolled her head about as she looked at the architecture as they passed through the lobby.

Scarlet Script cleared his throat and leaned over to whisper. “So… the way she talks--”

“Yeah that’s just something she does,” Zephyr Breeze said. “She doesn’t turn it off, and I wouldn’t ask her about it.”

“Pardon?” Zecora suddenly asked.

“So... how long have you two known each other…?” Scarlet asked.

The zebra had a soft, warm laugh. “As I said, friends we are not. Though we both share the letter Z, mere friends of friends are we.”

“I always saw it as more like, friends of friends of friends,” Zephyr said. 

Zecora led them to a small room filled with cabinets and a large desk. It looked cozy and clean to Scarlet, but Rooby glanced about anxiously, like an animal visiting the vet.

“What exactly are we going to do here?” Zephyr asked. “Nobody’s home.”

“The princess was kind enough to let me keep my things in one of the labs,” Zecora said. “I should have the necessary materials to study this bat.”

The bat-filly resigned herself to her fate and allowed herself to be herded inside the room. Her wings and pointed ears drooped the whole way. 

“I’ll just guard the door,” Zephyr said. 

Scarlet watched as Zecora set Rooby atop a small desk. She snorted or groaned whenever the zebra drew near. Zecora checked the bat-filly’s coat and ran her hoof across her forehead. Rooby visibly resisted the urge to take another bite at her. “What exactly is she doing?” Zephyr asked.

“You’re welcome to come inside and take a look,” Scarlet didn’t take his eyes off the bat-filly for a minute. She flattened her ears and ducked her head as the zebra drew close to study her ears, her hooves, and her wings. Reaching out to touch the filly’s tail elicited a sharp hiss. 

“I’m good, thanks,” Zephyr said.

“And for how long have you been acquainted with this particular filly?” Zecora asked as she knit her brow.

“Less than a day,” Scarlet said. “I found her sleeping in my closet last night. She’s tried to follow me everywhere I go.”

“Ah,” Zecora peered closer, and the filly shrank threateningly. “She is so taken with you, I assumed you’d been together much longer. How silly.” The filly bared her fangs at Zecora and the small muscles on her shoulders bunched up. Her red eyes were narrow and wild.

“Rooby, cut it out!” Scarlet said. “She’s just trying to help.” Rooby snorted and made a pleading noise at him.

Zecora slipped away and dug in her desk. “I see you’re taken to her as well,” she said. Zecora prodded Rooby and she immediately lunged. The zebra swiftly held out a strange object, and Rooby bit into it. It must have been some sort of mould or putty, because when Rooby drew back from her bite Zecora was left with a perfect impression of her teeth. Zecora walked over to a jar of clear liquid and dropped the impression inside. The liquid bubbled and changed colors, and the mould dissolved.

Rooby spat and sputtered and hung out her tongue.

“Ah-ha!” Zecora had consulted a book of hers. “Our winged mystery finally has a little direction, though I’m afraid now we have even less answers than questions.”

“What did you find?” Scarlet trotted over and peered over her shoulder. The pages of the book were covered in scrawlings of some other language, but annotations in Ponish were scribbled into the margins.

“Once a sample is placed in the resin and mixed with the solution,” Zecora pointed a hoof to the jar of now green liquid. “I am able to discern a pony’s heritage and constitution.”

“A dee-and-ay test?” Zephyr asked. “Shucks, if I knew you were gonna do that I just woulda taken them to the clinic.” Rooby stood up on her desk and carefully stepped over to study the jar of liquid. She sniffed it only to draw back and scrunch her nose.

“Just as I predicted, this one was not a bat-creature at birth,” Zecora pointed to a page that Scarlet couldn’t read, but he nodded along anyway. It had pictures of ponies with pointed ears and leathery wings. “Rather she was born a pony of the earth!”

“You mean she was changed into this?” Scarlet looked over to Rooby and back at the picture. “How does that even happen?”

“I cannot say. Bat ponies and everything about them is a secret snugly stashed away,” Zecora approached Rooby, who was much too distracted with the recent onslaught of scent and taste to really be bothered by her. “Some acquire bat wings willingly from a sort of spell. The Princess of Night keeps some of these on her payroll. As for such things appearing in the wild, I cannot tell.”

“Maybe if it’s just a spell, we should leave her alone and just… dunno, put out a PSA about a missing filly,” Zephyr said.

Zecora shook her head. “A mere spell in no good conscience can I diagnose it. For she relies heavily on instinct and is robbed of speech; a curse as good as any, I know this.”

“But she’s not completely savage,” Scarlet said. “She’s rational… somewhat. It’s only when she’s excited when she acts so bat-like.” 

“Indeed, so long as she remains with you her instincts are curbed,” Zecora said.

“What do you mean?”

“She has imprinted on you, that much I have learned. Perhaps you remind her of somepony from her previous life; a face like one in which she used to delight.”

“She thinks he’s her parent?” Zephyr asked.

“Or something close,” Zecora gave Rooby an affectionate pat on the head, which she hardly noticed. “Unfortunately, there is not much I can do for her now. I will consult my texts, but her cure will not be a matter of when so much as how.”

“You mean you can’t help her?”

“I merely need time to identify the cause of her condition. The sooner I do so, the sooner we can ease her affliction. I have learned all I can from this one. All that remains is research on my lonesome.”

“Are we talking hours or days?” Scarlet asked. “People are expecting me out of town next week.”

“A day at most, certainly no more,” Zecora said. “Do not worry about your return. I shall come find you when I learn more.”

“You know, that last bit didn’t really rhyme.” Nobody seemed to hear Zephyr.

Zecora gently closed the door and the three were left alone in the hall. Scarlet Script sighed. 

“So, you take her back to the inn with you?” Zephyr Breeze asked.

“What else can I do?” Scarlet said. “I can’t just leave Ponyville and let her fend for herself. Not unless you knew somebody who was good with animals.”

“Or had previous experience as a bat,” Zephyr mumbled.

“Or both.”

“Yeah, that’d be crazy, huh?”

“...”

“...”

“Would you happen to know somepony like that, Zeph--?”

“Can’t say I do.”

Zephyr Breeze was quick to bolt at the edge of town and Scarlet Script couldn’t blame him. This was all very strange, even for him. He lingered with his companion for a little while at the school grounds, he stopped and wiped his glasses and shook his head.

“I wonder if I’ll ever get any time to find my muse in the midst of this,” Scarlet said. “...If we managed to cure you however, that would make for quite a story…”

“Roo?” Rooby didn’t seem to understand.

“Boy!” a different voice startled Scarlet Script. He looked to the side and saw the older stallion from the previous night, Pivot. He’d been too busy wondering about Rooby to notice his approach.

Rooby! What would happen if Pivot saw her? But when Scarlet Script looked behind him, he was all alone as the older stallion walked up.

“I suspect you know who this belongs to,” the stallion reached into his bag and produced a bundle of dirty cloth. Scarlet Script hesitantly received and unwrapped it. It was none other than his camera from the previous night. The film was not as badly exposed as he feared. It may be feasible to salvage a picture.

“This is mine. Thank you, how did you happen to stumble across this?”

Pivot studied the young writer carefully. His eyes wandered to the town behind him. “I spied you and another near the forest. I thought to make sure you didn’t try anything foolish again,” he mumbled. “I found the camera along the way.”

“I was nowhere near there when I dropped that,” Scarlet said. “What were you doing so deep in the forest? Surely you didn’t travel that far just to look for me?”

Pivot didn’t answer. “What will you do now, boy?” he asked.

“I will try again,” Scarlet Script said. The old stallion scoffed and shook his head. “I intend to find what I’m looking for. What about you?”

Pivot cast one glance in the direction of the woods before he turned around to head back into town. “I leave tomorrow,” he said. “I have enough to worry about without ponies like you weighing on my conscience.”

And he was gone, and Scarlet Script was left alone again. He thought briefly of Pivot’s graying mane and his dull, reddish coat. He couldn’t be that much older than middle age, and yet he looked ten years older. He wondered what sort of unimaginable thing it takes to age a pony so. He wondered how his own red coat and dark mane would look if something unimaginable happened to him.

Rooby was sitting in a tree branch when Scarlet found her. She watched Pivot leave with careful, discerning eyes. He called her down and led her back to the guesthouse.

The instant the door to Scarlet Script’s room clicked shut, Rooby crawled through the open window. She shook Scarlet’s coat off and happily flopped unto the floor. She napped again, and Scarlet Script started getting his film developed. 

Developing the film the old fashioned way was still viable, and would make for a better picture, but Scarlet was in a hurry. A few quick baths in the proper magical liquids was all it took to produce a roll of developed film. A magical transfer spell applied the film to sheets of paper, which were soaked in the same liquids and hung up to dry. He watched and waited, and slowly the lines and shapes manifested.

“Now we’ll have indubitable proof of our first meeting. Just think,” he said, ”once you’re cured and your story is told, you could be famous.” Rooby blinked at him and made a noise. “The pony that was once a bat and a pony again! It may seem callous to take your plight and turn it over to the masses for profit, but it increases our chances of finding your family. It may also help us find out what did this to you. One of these may be the cover image to such a tale.”

No sooner had Scarlet finished speaking when Rooby’s eyes shrunk and she gasped. She backpedaled away, her coat prickling as she clamped her wings down and lowered her head. She let out a low hiss, and for a split second it seemed like she might have been ready to pounce him.

“Rooby, what’s wrong?” Scarlet got to his hooves. Her eyes were locked on the photograph. “Oh, don’t be afraid, it’s just a photo, it’s not real. It’s just a picture of…” and then Scarlet finally glanced at the finished photo. “...You?”

The creature in the picture was not Rooby, or any other bat pony for that matter. It was something else entirely. Its shape was obscured by streaks and smears of motion, but it had claws-tipped wings, narrow red eyes, and a gaping maw lined with rows and rows of silver teeth. If it weren’t for the sharp ears and the shape of its nose, Scarlet would have never thought it was a bat.

Whatever it was, the sight of it was making Rooby very anxious, and angry. Scarlet plucked the picture free. Rooby’s eyes followed every movement of the photo as he stashed it inside his collar. “Zecora should see this,” he said. 

He didn’t have to go far to find her. Zephyr Breeze was a short trot from the guesthouse, and Zecora was beside him. The two were talking, and the zebra looked exasperated. 

“The very fate of the filly is in our hooves!” Zecora cried. “We have no time for any doubts, fears, or behooves!”

“Look, let me go find my sister, or her friend, or her friend’s friend, or literally anypony more qualified than me. There’s no reason we shouldn’t leave this to the professionals.”

“No! Between the three of us this must stay!” Zecora said. “I had already tried asking for help, but alas there is no other way.” She was relieved when she saw Scarlet and Rooby approach. “Thank the earth and stars! We must find a place to discuss this current affair of ours.”

“Would it have anything to do with this?” Scarlet produced the strange photograph. Zecora examined it with wide, worried eyes.

“My worst suspicions are true! Take me somewhere safe l can explain to you…” Zephyr smiled at Scarlet and Rooby, and began stepping away. “...And Zephyr Breeze must come too!” 

“But the salon needs help unloading mane-spray.”

“It will have to wait. We need all hooves until the situation abates.”

“It looks like some kind of bat monster,” Scarlet Script said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The creature in this picture is no mere flying rodent, it is something more sinister and dangerous and potent!”

“Bats aren’t rodents,” Zephyr Breeze muttered as they entered Scarlet’s room. They gained odd looks in the lobby, but thankfully Rooby was hardly given a second glance.

Zecora dropped her large, hoofwritten book on to a desk and paged through it rapidly. “I saw accounts and warnings of this creature in my book the other day. At first I thought nothing of it, but now I am glad I did not look the other way! And now my theory is wholly fact, it is the enthrall of this creature that has turned a filly into a bat.” 

“Again with the fake rhyming.”

“What do you mean by thrall?” Scarlet asked. “And what is this thing?”

“It goes by many names, but sightings are rare.” Zecora found her page and beckoned Scarlet over. “It is dangerous and cunning, and far from standard monster fare.” The picture she showed closely matched the photographed creature. It was sketchy, abstract and archaic, yet it filled in the blanks left by the photograph. Its body was hardly more than a giant, toothy mouth with arms, legs, and wings. Its pointed ears were like daggers, and its teeth were jagged and many in its maw. Its tail ended in a strange, hook. 

Rooby cooed worriedly as she looked on over Scarlet’s shoulder.

“It is called Nox Ferrous Deu,” Zecora said.

Scarlet narrowed his eyes and racked his brain for what little middle, old, or ancient Ponish he could remember. “Nox… Night-Iron-Fang? Foul-Glowing-Lord? Which is it?”

“I’m sure all of the above apply.” Zecora pointed to a page. “So old is this creature, so unknown and feared, it likely lives beyond Equestria and only recently reappeared. It travels year to year, always on the run. It cannot stand light from the sun, and so it takes other creatures and changes their shape to closely match its own, that they may help it hunt. It may twist them slightly like poor Rooby, or it may change them completely! From its sightings were horror and fear was inspired! This creature spawned the stories...”

“Don’t say it,” Zephyr whined.

“...Of vampires,” Zecora finished.

“Now I know why she was scared of going back to the woods,” Scarlet Script said. “She must have been running from this thing for a long time. The only reason it found me was because it was looking for her.”

Zecora nodded. “Our scarlet friend was almost added to this creature’s list, and so long as it prowls the forest, all of Ponyville is at risk! And with no princesses to help me, the only ones who can be trusted to stop it and trap it is this group of us three.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Zephyr said.

“Are you busy?” Scarlet Script asked him.

“Against all odds, the salon still wants my help, we’re unloading a new order of manespray so if I’m not able to make it…”

“But you will! Even if it gains you ire, you must make it still!” Zecora said firmly. “We meet tonight. The ponies here know my name. Tell your boss that Zecora has called for you, and I will shoulder the blame.”

Rooby hung tight to Scarlet Script as Zecora led them back into the Everfree Forest. It took some convincing on the two stallion’s part to just get her over the threshold. It was already close to dusk. The forest was as foggy and foreboding as it was before. They came to Zecora’s tree-hut which couldn’t have been far from where Scarlet first walked the night before. 

“I didn’t know anypony was brave enough to live out here,” Scarlet said.

“Not brave, tradition and practice keeps Zecora here,” the zebra said. “Much safer to practice my craft where other creatures are not near. Wait for me out here.” She ducked inside, and the two heard her rummaging. She emerged with several ropes and pulleys slung over her back. “Zephyr Breeze,” she said. “With your wings and eye for detail, creating the trap will be done with ease. While you and I prepare, Scarlet Script and the filly must remain here if they’d please.”

“...If you say so,” Zephyr followed after Zecora.

Scarlet Script sat in the grass. “Not much to do now but wait,” he said. He felt a nudge. Rooby had gotten to her hooves and muzzled his shoulder. His eyes wandered to his bag. He drew it closer and looked at the few books he had brought along. “...Are you the type that likes to be read to?” Rooby happily sidled closer to him and cooed. “Alright, alright. Let’s see what I have.” He kept a few of his favorites around for light reading, but he figured that ‘The Shadow over Whinnysmouth’ or ‘The bats in the walls’ weren’t appropriate for young readers. He did have a book on myths and legends for young ponies. It had Gusty the Great, the Crystal Empire, the Two Sisters, the classic myths. Scarlet Script realized something as he paged through the tale of the Two Sisters.

This was no myth. Everypony has a moment in their lives when they realize that the older sister in the story and their own Princess of the Sun are one in the same, and therefore Nightmare Moon must have been real too.

Scarlet Script recalled the rejoicing and the relief when the two princesses took the thrones at Canterlot again, but he was disappointed. Annoyed even. What good was a legend fulfilled before normal ponies like himself had gotten their worth from the story? Of all the ponies to witness history-turned-legend become truth again, why did he have to be one of them? Couldn’t such a thing remain a legend a little longer?

That was why he sought out the forest. It wasn’t a person with a story. Throughout Equestria’s history, while villains were vanquished and kingdoms came and went, the forest simply was. He wanted a taste of the world that so few ponies understood, or ever would perhaps. He had a taste of it sitting right next to him, waiting for her story.

Her story.

Scarlet looked up at the moon, full and empty. “I shut myself away, after the Mare in the Moon disappeared,” he mumbled. “If the legend ever ended, I wanted to be old and gray and wise enough to draw my own conclusions, but fate concluded it for me. I thought perhaps ignorance was the only way to keep legends alive at the rate they were being fulfilled, so for a few years I let myself hear nothing. And then I returned to the world with so much changing. Everypony was talking about how magical Equestria had become, but in my mind the magic was all gone.

“And yet for the Princess of the Sun I’m sure the world has become so much brighter. And here I am complaining that their suffering didn’t last long enough for me. ...Your story needs to be solved before I return home. I may never find my muse or write my book of old magic, but your story ought to be special enough. I may even publish it, if you or your parents consent. ...You must miss them.”

“Roo.”

Rooby was not read to. The two merely waited as the moon climbed higher and higher into the sky.

Several hours later Scarlet Script awoke. It couldn’t have been two hours until sunrise. Shouting had gotten his attention away from the hut. Rooby remained asleep, and she leaned against him as her back rose and fell. He propped his book under her head like a pillow and carefully stole away.

He found Zecora’s trap. It was nothing more than a net slung by several ropes and pulleys. It was not baited as far as he could tell.

The shouting came from Zecora and Zephyr Breeze, who stood near the edge of the clearing.

“Oh! Ornery oak and stubborn stalk! What issue have you with the way I talk?!”

“I’m just sayin’,” Zephyr Breeze said calmly, slowly, a little smugly. “If you were actually worried about the filly you might try speaking more plainly. If this is important, why do I have to keep guessing at everything you say? Why can’t you talk to me like a normal pony?”

“I am under sacred oath to keep the ways of the magics of the wood. And besides…” Zecora’s eye twitched. “Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure I could!”

Zephyr was the first to notice Scarlet Script. “You’re up, good. Maybe you can explain to the zebra why we won’t be using the girl as bait. Unless I heard her wrong, of course.”

“But we must!” Zecora said. “He did not mishear. The creature and its thrall can surely sense when the other is near.”

The words had barely left Zecora’s mouth when a shadow passed over the moon. The grass and branches swerved violently as a gust of wind blew over them. Zephyr dove to the ground.

“What now?!” Scarlet cried. “Was that the thing?”

“Roo…?” Scarlet whipped his head around. Rooby tiredly walked into the clearing. One wing reached up and rubbed her eyes. She blinked tiredly at the three adults and cooed again.

A pair of red eyes manifested behind her in the shadows. And then the screech, the same screech from the previous night.

“Rooby, run!!”

Teeth like nails and daggers clamped down on empty air as Rooby fled straight for the trap. She flew over the pulleys and ropes. The shape lunged from cover and rumbled across the forest floor after her. It struck every single rope and in a matter of seconds it was strung up in the net. Rooby dove into the branches of a nearby tree.

Scarlet cautiously drew near. The creature struggled and growled. It was exactly what his camera had failed to capture the night before. It was just like Zecora’s picture, only much worse. It wasn’t so much a mouth with wings as it was a mass of teeth with legs and eyes. Its dark fur was barely visible under the unreadable cluster of teeth, claws, and other bodyparts with sharp appendages not typical of a bat. It might have had well over four limbs aside its wings.

Scarlet, begrudgingly, was very impressed.

“Fool, stay away from the Nox Ferrous Deu!” Zecora said. “Its crimson gaze is precisely how it takes control of you!”

And then the creature laid its eyes on Scarlet. Its red eyes flashed, and the unicorn was paralyzed. It was only a few seconds, but it seemed an eternity that he could not think, move or breathe.

“Boy! What in Celestia’s name?!”

The voice did not belong to Zecora or Zephyr Breeze. The creature looked away, and Scarlet was released. Right behind the sprung trap stood Pivot, eyes wide, jaw agape. “What in Celestia’s name…?” He looked at the creature, at Scarlet, at Zecora, and at the strange bat filly hiding in the branches of a nearby tree.

The creature sliced a rope free with its claw. The trap was undone, and the squirming mass of teeth, wings and fur struck the forest floor. It rose to its full height and it cast a shadow that blanketed Scarlet and Pivot both.

The thing set its eyes on the elder stallion and screeched. Scarlet barely pushed him out of the way in time. He dove into Pivot and they both skidded against the mud and grass as the creature raged past them with teeth and claws aflurry.

Zecora was running over, and Zephyr Breeze was paralyzed. Scarlet looked up at Rooby, who was frozen in place, eyes darting about, never daring to look at the Nox Ferrous Deu for more than an instant.

“Fly away, Rooby! Far away, get out of here!” The bat-filly offered him one pleading glance before her wings carried her away back towards town. 

The thing screeched again and lunged for Scarlet. An ear-splitting pop and a puff of smoke later it was completely disorientated, just in time for Zecora to pull the two of them away. “So much has gone wrong, but we’ve come too far! If we let it get away now… it truly will be fubar!”

A slashing claw just missed Scarlet’s head, but it lopped off a good chunk of his mane. Zecora pounded her head into the creature’s legs to drive it back, but it pushed her away.

Scarlet struggled to keep his wits about him and avoid the creature’s flashing red eyes at the same time. Just then Zephyr Breeze let loose an entire can of mane-spray into the creature’s face. It gagged and spewed and crumpled to the ground.

“Yeah, take that you overgrown rodent!” Zephyr Breeze twirled the can and stashed it away like a sidearm. “I ain’t afraid of you!”

Shnk!

With a swipe of its claws, the pegasus’ man-bun was reduced to a crewcut. “A-alright, I’m a little afraid of you…”

Too fast for the eye to track, the creature knocked away Zephyr Breeze’s weapon and pinned him to the ground. It gripped the pegasus’ face with its hand as its eyes flashed and glowed brighter and brighter. Zephyr Breeze cried out and struggled. “No no NO! You gotta help me, man! I don’t wanna be a bat! I don’t wanna be a bat!”

Without thinking, Scarlet’s hooves carried him to the creature. He aimed with his horn and plowed past the teeth and claws and came out the other end with something in his arms. He expected to pluck a pegasus free, but that wasn’t what he was carrying.

“...Zeph?!” He held up the small, green winged puffball with a wisp of yellow fur between its pointed ears.

“You know what?” a tiny, squeaky voice asked. It yawned. “Being a bat is fine, I don’t care, really.”

The creature’s screech made Scarlet turn around. Zecora was standing between Pivot and the creature with another smoke-bomb ready to go. She ducked and weaved through its swipes. She let the bomb fly. The puff of smoke did not deter the creature. A powerful swing of its limbs knocked Zecora into a tree trunk. It ignored Pivot and waded through the wisps of smoke back towards Scarlet.

Scarlet perched the former pegasus on his shoulder and backed away. The creature opened wide its awful, teeth-lined mouth. He readied his quill, the sharpest thing he owned, and held it out. It was snatched away from him and cast to the side. Before he could be pinned against a tree, a shape dashed from the trees and bashed the creature into the ground.

Rooby snarled as she hung on to its neck with her teeth. The creature screamed. It thrashed and threw her off. She rolled onto her hooves and hissed. Claws slashed. She dug her fangs into its wrist. It yowled and threw her off again. It lunged for her, but she slipped onto its back. She yanked its ear with her teeth as she beat its body over and over with her hooves.

Scarlet ran for Zecora. He eased her to her feet as she shook away the daze. Pivot ran over and helped steady her. “It won’t stay down, what do we do?”

Zecora winced up at the sky. Her eyes lit up. “The stars are fading… it will soon be dawn! We must delay it and keep it still, it won’t be long!”

Rooby cried out and was tossed away from the creature. She was sent rolling. Her gray coat was mottled with dust and dirt, and her beautiful ponytail was ruined, her red hairband slipped to the ground. She weakly looked up at Scarlet Script and cooed.

“Hold this,” Scarlet Script handed Zephyr Breeze to Pivot and ran for Rooby. He stood in front of her and dared the creature to draw closer. He flashed his horn at it, which only served to anger it. When it lunged for him, he tore off his coat and draped it over its eyes. It struggled and groaned, but when Scarlet Script tried to yank it down with his magic, it reached for him instead and drove him into the ground. Just like with Zephyr Breeze, it held his face still and flashed its red eyes. Scarlet Script squeezed his eyes shut and shot magic in every direction he could think of. He could feel something small and heavy nearby, but he couldn’t concentrate hard enough to reach it.

He felt the creature’s claws gingerly grip his eyelids, and slowly they were pulled open. He tried to look away, look at anything but the creature’s eyes, but it was now so close to him that it dominated his vision. He could feel its sickly sweet breath on his face, the sound of ugly clicking of every little tooth and claw rubbing together as it leaned in closer and closer. The red flooded his eyes.

And then his magic smashed Zephyr Breeze’s can over its head. The pressurized contents blew out and the torn can shredded fur. The glow left its eyes. It groaned and fell. Scarlet crawled out and ran to check on Rooby. She was out cold, but she was breathing. She was okay, and so were Pivot, Zecora and Zephyr Breeze, kind of. Rooby made a sound in her sleep and nuzzled Scarlet Script’s leg.

The first streaks of dawn painted the sky with shades of purple and blue. Zecora’s ropes were enough to tie the monster down and hold it still. It struggled and growled and kept worriedly looking skyward as it tried to free itself. Its claws were tied up behind its back, and its teeth were facefirst in the dirt; no sharp object could reach the rope.

The three of them were much too tired to feel anything more than a passing semblance of pity. Pivot stood the farthest away. He kept the former pegasus with him, and he continually glanced at Rooby when nobody was looking. Scarlet Script was always looking though. “So… now what?” he asked. Rooby was awake now, and she watched the creature struggle with disdain.

“A very simple matter I believe,” Zecora said. Her voice was hoarse after the shouting and the fighting. “It must do as we say before it goes free. This creature will obey to the letter, and then it must leave Equestria forever!” Zecora retrieved the former pegasus from Pivot and brought it before the creature.

“I know your name, Nox Ferrous Deu!” she said. “I know not how you came to these woods, but if you do not honor our request, it will surely not go well for you!” The dawn was becoming brighter and the creature squeezed its eye shut. Zecora held the wistful and unmoving former pegasus before the creature. “Your spell, though powerful, is not permanent. Return this poor creature to its original predicament.”

With a wince and a lunge as hateful as drinking a spoonful of medicine, the creature shone its glowing eyes at the former pegasus, and instantly Zephyr Breeze was restored, man-bun and all. He shook out his wings and stretched his legs. “I’m uh…” he checked his ears and his belly and his back. “I won’t be getting no urges or nothing every full moon, am I? No bouts of mania? No gaps in memory?” He checked his teeth, and as far as Scarlet Script could tell, they were all perfectly blunt and horse-like.

“Maybe, were you enthralled for an entire night. But your tenure barely lasted an hour; you’ll be alright.”

“Oh thank goodness,” And Zephyr Breeze let out a sigh of relief. “Because see, I may or may not have this family history--”

“More importantly…” Zecora beckoned for Rooby. Scarlet Script had to gently lead her over. “Return this filly to her original shape! You will do so to the fullest of your abilities, lest you want to take your chances in the light of day!”

The first glow of the sun peaked over the horizon, and the creature cried out. Rooby backed away, but Scarlet held her shoulder. The creature looked at Rooby, their eyes met, and its eyes flashed. There was a blinding light, the sound of a body growing and changing, of ropes snapping and tree branches breaking underway. When their vision returned, the creature was nowhere to be seen, and Rooby was gone. In her place; a white filly with a pink mane.

The filly groggily struggled to her hooves. Her back muscles tensed and untensed, and she had to check behind her for what was missing. The sight made her eyes light up. She happily checked her tail, her hooves, her coat, and her ears as much as she was able. She tapped her hooves as she let out a voiceless cry of joy. She raced circles around until she toppled over in the the grass, and then she stood up and did it all over gain.

“Rooby?” Scarlet asked. The filly stopped and looked in his direction. And then she froze, eyes widened. She took one step forward before she broke out in a run. She gasped and choked and cried. She ran right past Scarlet Script and into Pivot’s arms. He flopped over to the ground under her weight as she showered him with nuzzles and kisses.

The old stallion completely fell apart. Scarlet Script could only stand and watch as the two embraced each other.

“Oh, my little girl,” he heard Pivot choke. “I don’t believe it, my little girl.”

Approximately three years ago, a family of three took a trip to the infamous Everfree Forest under innocent if misguided intentions. They were unfortunate enough to cross the Nox Ferrous Deu as it migrated to some unknown feeding ground, and it took their daughter with it. The couple moved away, as far from the Forest as they could manage, but every year, somehow, the forest would always be visited by Pivot, who would stalk the familiar trails for days and return home daughterless still. 

It was in the company of total strangers that his daughter was restored and returned to him. She was aged three years, long overdue for her mark, but she was the same loving filly he lost so long ago. He would take her back to his wife and make up for lost time. The two of them may never set hoof in Ponyville again.

That was the story of the filly named Vesper, and once her voice returned and she re-learned to speak and write, she may be able to tell the entire thing herself.

The train would leave soon, and it would carry Pivot and his daughter away while Scarlet Script remained. Zecora and Zephyr Breeze accompanied him as he saw them off. With the Forest free from the father’s mind, he was much more friendly and talkative. Vesper watched Scarlet shyly from behind her father as they spoke and said nothing the entire time, no matter how often he looked her way.

Zephyr brought a gift of hairbands, brushes, and mane-spray for the little filly, and restored her ponytail free of charge, which she loved. Zecora had her bite into another mould and ran a quick test with her potions, which she hated.

“Will she ever completely return to normal?” Pivot asked as he held his daughter.

Zecora smiled. “Fear not, for though the circumstances were fantastic, her road for recovery will be nowhere near as drastic.” Zecora pulled back Vesper’s lips and exposed the single sharp fang on either side of her mouth. “Some changes will remain, perhaps for the rest of her life. Changes are almost never happy, but one can always overcome and certainly survive. Like any heart’s wounds, which threaten to surround it, so long as she is loved I have faith her blemish will not grow around her, rather she around it.”

Zephyr Breeze offered to show Vesper how her new brushes and bands worked. She listened and watched happily. He was good with shy fillies, after all. The train was very close to departing. Pivot pulled Scarlet Script aside.

“If you’re going to thank me, I won’t have it,” Scarlet said. “There was nothing selfless about what I did. I didn’t come to save a filly, I came to write a book. If anything, Zecora deserves the most praise.”

“Son,” Pivot said firmly. “I kept going back to those woods, but the truth was I never wanted to find anything. I had already given up, long ago. You went where I wouldn’t, not out there, but in here,” and he lightly tapped Scarlet Script’s head with his hoof. “It doesn’t matter to me whether you found her, she found you, or how she was saved. It never would have happened if you didn’t come here and I thank you for it.” Scarlet didn’t say anything. “I happen to be an editor, you know,” Pivot said. “Come find me if you need somepony to look at your material.”

“...If you insist.”

The train whistle blew, and it was time to say goodbye. Pivot took his bag and his daughter’s gift with him into the cart and shepherded her along. Vesper took one last glance back at her strange crew of rescuers. Scarlet Script smiled at her and waved his hoof. The filly’s lip trembled, and she left the cart and hurried over to him. She hugged him and buried her face in his shoulder and spoke in a voice that hadn’t been used in three years.

“Thank you.” 

She slipped something into his hooves and joined her father, the conductor called out, and the train pulled away. Scarlet Script did not look away until the last cart disappeared down the tracks. Zecora bid them farewell and hurried back to the school to prepare for the returning students, and the other two walked back to town, which didn’t seem as new, shiny and boring to Scarlet anymore.

“So…” Zephyr Breeze asked as they stepped off the platform. “Think you got yourself some inspiration? Something more personal? You could preface it with ‘based on a true story.’ ”

Scarlet tied a small red hairband around his wrist and kept walking. “I think this story belongs to Rooby and her father. Vesper I mean. If such a thing happened to me, I’d want it as far from the presses as possible. Besides, nopony cares if a story came from real life here in Equestria. There’s just too much magic, beasts, and legends for a pony to care. Honestly, if you can conjure such a thing completely from your own mind, that takes talent. I think I’ll keep looking in places like the forest until I can find a story wholly my own. One that is fulfilled when I say so, one that is mine to keep… maybe mine to share once she learns how to read.”