//------------------------------// // Chapter 35 - His Madness 1/2 // Story: The Stereotypical Necromancer // by JinxTJL //------------------------------// Sweetie Drops, Special Operative of the Crown, was feeling very conflicted. On the other hoof, Bon Bon, average Ponyville resident, knew very well how she felt. The sweetly familiar taste of muted homemade grape punch lingered in her mouth for just a second before she quickly tossed her head back and swallowed. The rising burn of something store bought that she had not so discretely spiked her punch with brought a momentary blur to her vision, but it was gone with a few blinks. Berry Punch would have approved, had she not recently gone into rehab for the... however many times she had already. That was probably why the punch didn't come pre-spiked, actually. Bon Bon groaned as she set the comically oversized wooden goblet down next to the punch bowl on the table in front of her. The cheap whisky she had 'smuggled' into the party in her saddlebag was enough to take the edge off the nerves that really hadn't ever gone away, though she was already regretting the promise of future head pain. The thought of tomorrow's morning brought a grimace to her face, and she closed her eyes for a moment as her hoof holding the goblet began to shake in a way that she had been trying to suppress all day. The shaking appendage slipped slowly away from what was left of her tainted drink, and she clamped it heavily to her chest as she did her best to run through calming breathing exercises. She was able to keep a cool head in nearly every scenario that mattered, but the day's events were weighing heavily on her like nothing ever had before. Action was one thing, but sitting around and just watching was... She gnashed her teeth as she frowned into her reflection staring back at her from the smooth surface of an undisturbed punch bowl. The hard creases of her face had worn themselves heavily from a lifetime spent making similar faces, and the well used expression almost felt mocking. A short breath of disdain blew out from her lips, and she raised a hoof to the ladle to pour herself more punch. Dulling her nerves even more was definitely a good enough reason to stop looking at herself for the moment. Focusing her panic on beating herself up wasn't constructive, and she needed to cut it out. Purple liquid filled partway up to the side of the wooden cup, low enough for enough room to add more than was probably needed to spike punch. She wasn't aiming to get drunk at this party, especially not with everything she still had to do, but getting well enough tipsy wasn't against the rules. With the ladle set back in the bowl, she turned her head to reach into her plain saddlebags. Her eyes momentarily roved over the sparse trappings of decorations still being set up in the library, and her gaze inevitably came to the window at the other side of the room where she could see the orange highlights of the beginnings of the sunset. She lingered there for far longer than she ever should've, before her eyes hastily dropped to the latch on her pack. The metal scratched at her teeth almost unnoticeably as her head lowered to undo it, and the tip of her muzzle deftly raised to flip the strip of cloth over her back. The fading glimpse of the sun had spun her thoughts back around to the place she was trying to escape for however few moments she could, and it drove her to mouth find the reflective surface of her flask quickly. She tugged it out, and swung her head back around to her waiting drink. The flask dropped into the crook of her hoof, and the top found itself unscrewed with little ceremony. She took another deep breath as she haphazardly twisted her hoof to pour the unappetizing, cloudy brown liquid into the half-filled cup. A quick moment with her eyes closed turned into more than she'd meant, and she opened them again to the sight of her blueish concoction running over the rim of the wood and onto the table. "Bucking incredible.. Way to go super spy..." She muttered through clenched teeth as she jerked her hoof away. What was left in the bottle swished noisily to her ears as she glared down at her mistake, and she seethed through her frown as she bent to pick up the cap of her contraband. "Party emergency!" The familiar voice in her ear filled with perk and joy set her heart racing, and her buzzed mind nearly sent her hoof swinging at her would-be assailant. Delicately lowered inhibitions thankfully weren't enough to offset years of training and restraint, though; and she managed to simply turn her head to the intruding voice. It was Pinkie Pie, of course. It was her party, it was her voice, and it was also her uncanny knack for knowing things she shouldn't. The pink pony gently pushing her out of the way with a rag in her mouth had been the focus of many different undercover operations and reports to Her Highness, to almost constant failure. She was a constant oddity that was almost certainly a serious threat to the public's safety and the Crown's privacy; though Her Highness had never taken her warnings very seriously for whatever reason only She knew. Bon Bon had stubbornly continued to keep various kinds of tabs on her out of admittedly misplaced spite, but she was forced to reconsider when Pinkie eventually offered to throw a 'secret agent party' for her. Labeling her a security threat wasn't acceptable to Her Highness, which meant Pinkie Pie was officially given free reign to be as strange as she wanted. Either way, a hyperactive mare with some kind of precognition wasn't high on anypony's list of worries at the moment. As she watched Pinkie helpfully clean her spill, she discreetly bent again to pick up the cap of her alcohol, and quietly screwed it back on. The small bit of spirit was safely stowed into her saddlebags by the time the table was clean and Pinkie was turning to face her, none the wiser. She kept a guarded expression of weariness as Pinkie's face scrunched into itself around the rag in her mouth, and she spat it out onto her hoof with an exaggerated noise of disgust. An accusatory yet still very soft glare grew over the normally smiling pink face, and she met the weak expression with easy indifference. "Bon Bon!" Pinkie waved the stained cloth in front of her face, and her nostrils flared of their own accord as the ripe smell of terrible alcohol wafted in its path. "This isn't that kind of party!" She tongued her cheek as her face kept its regular air of disdain, and mentally admonished herself. Pinkie Pie may have been a complete wildcard in every situation, but she still should've been more careful. Sure, she hadn't made literally any noise in appearing at her side, but she still could have planned around her from that point to prevent detection. She should've been prepared for any situation. "I don't know what you're talking about." A classic deflection was probably the best way to go here. It was best to make sure of what Pinkie was asking, because she could often throw strange curveballs; and getting Pinkie to back off was mostly impossible short of bodily harm, so the edge of hostility was less of an act and more real emotion that it would otherwise be. She had established her small town persona as chiefly grumpy for a reason. Her fears were confirmed when Pinkie shoved the sodden rag insistently into her face again, making the off-putting scent of sour grapes quite obvious. "Drinking, Bon Bon! What if Berry Punch saw? You know she's recovering!" Pinkie's hoof shot out into a random direction into the room behind them, somehow without taking her eyes off of her own. Turning her head to the sparse few ponies that had come to help Pinkie set up the party treated her to a view of a mare with light purple fur standing on her hindlegs to attach a streamer to the wall next to an indent filled with books. Berry was looking good, for once. Her normally messy and stained reddish hair was brushed and neat, with no evidence of any sort of spilled alcohol or anything. A wide smile was half-visible on her face as she turned to laugh at something her decorating partner said; a mare she also recognized as Carrot Top. A tiny spark of pride slipped through the fear threatening to break at all times, and a small smile wormed its way onto her face. Not all of Berry's attempts at sobriety could get to the point of cleanliness and simple joy. Still, she wouldn't make any real apology for drinking. With her day, she deserved it; and besides, with any luck, Berry's struggles with alcoholism would continue for a long time after this. A long, long time. Her smile slipped from her face as quietly as it had come, and she turned back to Pinkie's unchanging glare; though her cheeks were slowly puffing with mostly mock anger. "Sorry, Pinkie." Her painful apology was accentuated with a roll of her eyes, and she could feel the light haze over her mind slowly roll off a little. Pinkie enjoyed it when ponies acted out with her, so hopefully she would just let her get back to drinking if she played along. Any hope lingering in her chest of an easy out to her harsher emotions quickly fizzled as Pinkie made several audible 'tsk' noises. "And I'm sorry, toots. I hate to be a party-pooper, but I'm gonna have to confiscate your drink!" The comically hard affectation in Pinkie's voice did little to sooth her fraying nerves, especially as the pony turned to her drink on the table. Her muscles itched to jump forward to sweep Pinkie's hooves out from under her and grab her brew away; while the pink buzzkill turned, drink in hoof, to the nearby front door. She turned her face to the ceiling and sent a silent prayer to the Princess for strength as she listened to the sound of the front door opening, followed by a very telling splash. She didn't quite flinch, but the growing tension and disappointment did drop her shoulders a little. It was a moment later that Pinkie returned, empty goblet in hoof, with smug satisfaction written clearly on her face. Bon Bon's own face had long since crossed the threshold for her regular kind of disgust, and now she was trying to see just how much pain could be directed through a look. She had never really tested before, since bodily harm worked best in pretty much every situation as a special operative. Never had she been so betrayed in such a dire time as this. She nearly had half a mind to breach several protocols just to persuade Pinkie to let her get alcohol in her system. She might not be so difficult if she knew the end of the world was upon them. Unfortunately, she couldn't make up her mind fast enough, and Pinkie was already hoofing her cup back to her. Her eyes focused immediately on the object, before she dragged them painfully back up to Pinkie's smiling face. "Gee, thanks friend." Pinkie was well known not to understand or care about subtext or sarcasm, at least when it was rude, so she simply giggled infuriatingly. The peaking high notes of the pink pony who knew nothing about volume control plucked the strings of her nerves in a way that would make her marefriend vomit. "You're welcome, Bon Bon! Let's keep the party safe for everypony, okay?" Her face creaked as she forced a rictus smile under her still-stormy eyes, and she raised her hoof to grab the cup from Pinkie's grasp as roughly as possible. It was all she could do not to audibly growl as Pinkie bounced off to the other corner of the room. With Pinkie gone, she was allowed to relax; though she didn't feel much like it. She glared down at the muddy blue residue left in a puddle at the bottom of her cup. Her drink, her ticket out of caring: gone. Her day had gone from terrible to unbearable with the simple addition of pink. "Oh, hey! Look who it is, Bon Bon!" Pinkie's excited call from the center of the room set into her ear like tiny pins, and she swung her head around to see whether Pinkie had devised some sort of advanced plan to ruin what little life she might've had ahead of her. And... she barely saw the bouncing pink pony, as her eyes zeroed in on the most welcoming sight in the entire world. A minty green coat, a nearly aqua colored mane, accented by a green so light it almost seemed white. Green on green on green like Equus' most wonderful meadow, and she suddenly didn't care much about her lost drink. A nervous kind of heat that set an itch into her hooves blossomed in her chest, and a lopsided grin quirked her mouth drunkenly upward despite a feeble attempt to stop it. A pair of endlessly excited eyes met hers, and an unabashed smile rose to meet the world; completely uncaring about how dorky it might've looked. Lyra. Her hooves were already carrying her forward; away from the cup she had discarded, and away from the siren call of liquor. She could get however drunk she wanted to later if she needed; right now, she only wanted what was right in front of her. Lyra had barely moved from her place in the entryway, the fool. She probably wasn't even thinking about how the door was still open behind her. She was so careless, so single-minded. She was still just standing around with her eyes on hers and that doofy smile on her face. That smile vanished for just a moment when they met, as their mouths came together in a chaste kiss. Just a simple touch, only a few seconds; but the intimate contact still sent warm butterflies tickling up into her face. She hadn't seen her in.. how many days? Their mouths drifted apart, and the smile returned as she leaned her head forward to rest softly against her marefriend's, just underneath her horn. The edge of a green mane brushed against her forehead, tickling ever so gently. "I missed you.." She murmured quietly as she relished the soft feeling of her partner's fur against hers. It was the kind of touch she never really got tired of, always just as comforting as it'd been since they had been just friends. A breathy, almost lilting laugh rose to rest in her ears, and she could feel her surroundings bleed away as she gave the almost musical tone her full attention. "Can't imagine why." A foalish giggle escaped her lips unbidden, and she could feel her cheeks reddening from the brazen show of emotion. She had gotten into so many bad habits since they had started dating. Zoning out, breaking character, letting her guard down; it was all so unlike who she had been before. Suddenly, the warm contact against her head was shifting away, moving out of reach as Lyra tilted her head back to look at her. The spot where they had been touching felt cold in extreme contrast, and she whined in protest; though she rose her head to meet Lyra's gaze anyway. Lyra was looking so pretty today, with her usual messy explosion of hair outward into uneven bangs; and her fur brushed to a glossy sheen. Lyra didn't like to spend so long on her mane, but it never bothered her very much to see. It was still so perfect the way it was. "Bonnie?" She barely caught the end of Lyra's question, and she had to blink to clear the gloss from her eyes as she tried to focus back into reality. She had really gone into it that time. Appreciating her marefriend's beauty could come later, after they caught up. Well, maybe here and there in the interim wouldn't be so bad. Nevertheless, that wasn't the priority. Another blink focused her eyes fully onto Lyra's face, and a moment gave her the chance to frown. Only to match the one on the minty face in front of her, though. Some kind of concern was clearly written over her expression, though there could be any number of causes. "Is there something wrong?" Lyra's head shifted to the right slightly as her frowning stare turned into a squint, before she righted herself with a quirk in her eyebrow. "Uh.. Nothing much, really; just your face, I guess." Rising concern took a nosedive into exasperation, and her expression turned down with her head. Her ears fell flat, and her hooded eyes trained themselves on the face of her wonderful marefriend. "Gee, thanks Lyra. I love you too." Insincerity dripped from her words as heavily as she could coat it, and an uneasy grin formed on her partner's face in response. Lyra could be so... backwards, sometimes; and leading with an insult into eventually making her point wasn't odd behavior. Though, she was better than she used to be. She used to not notice. Lyra's hoof came up to scratch at the back of her neck, shaking her hair as she laughed falteringly. "Well, uh, that's not quite what I meant! Heh." Her nose tilted towards the floor as she stared out from under her bangs, with a subtle frown overtaking her embarrassed grin. Bon Bon nearly felt the need to retreat as Lyra took a small step towards her, and she watched, unblinkingly, as her hoof came to rest under her cheek. Whatever her intentions, the cool, soothing touch brought long-needed comfort, and she found herself leaning into it heavily as her eyes softly fluttered closed. Lyra's voice came again through the subtle blur, full of concern and lacking usual fervor. Quiet and subdued, nothing at all like the mare it came from. "...You look.. tired, hun." Opening her eyes to Lyra's concerned face was harder than it should've been, and it took a blink to clear the blurs from the edges of her outline. Her face felt tighter than she'd realized, and her head was leaning into the hoof on her cheek harder than she'd meant. Her hooves were heavier than they had been a moment ago, and bringing one up to lay over Lyra's hoof took energy that she was suddenly sorely lacking. In sobering contrast, her head felt light; and her body felt frail. How long had she been running on empty..? The edge of Lyra's frog brushed against her fur gently from the added pressure, and she couldn't suppress the quiet shudder and sigh that instinctually rose. Her mouth still tasted like spoiled fruit, and a labored swallow didn't do much to clear it, but she did her best to clear the air anyway. "It's been... a long few days.." The hoof on her cheek began to rub small circles in her fur, and another tired sighed slipped form her lips as her eyes drifted shut again. A gentle whisper tickled the edge of her hearing, and she leaned into the sound as a relieved warmth spread across the aches she hadn't realized were there. "You wanna talk about it?" A short breath blew from her nose as a small smile grew over the frown. So considerate, so simple.. She would. She really would like to talk about it... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Summer Sun Celebration Morning The cool weight of her usual pair of binoculars felt heavier than usual in her hooves, and the subtle click of changing lens didn't help to douse the fire in her head. Another click, another level of focus; still nothing. Bon Bon lowered the binoculars to rest on the smoothened branch under her, and she took an unassisted squint at her target ahead of her. It was just as unassuming as it had been since she had taken her post, but if the intelligence was right... She bit her lip as she ground the hard edge of her hoof into a worn spot on a branch leading just off of her own. Frustration and anticipation were building against each other in some strange kind of race, and the urge to chuck her binoculars at the ground below her was rising. Light's cottage looked just as normal as ever. Small, brown, covered in green detritus that the lazy owner would never be enterprising enough to clean. There was absolutely no sign at all that there was anything amiss, and doubt was clawing at the back of her neck. Appearances were deceiving, but... Light Flow? She had been stalking that dork for nearly ten years, and the closest he had ever come to owning up on his promises of evil and conquest was when his mother had died. As harrowing as that time had been for his potential mental state, there still hadn't been as much potential for disaster as there apparently was now. There had been... one other time, but she had been completely shut out of that investigation. Whatever had happened with Zecora, she wasn't allowed to know. She raised her binoculars to her eyes again, and refocused them to their highest magnification. Light's windows hadn't ever been cleared of the multiple kinds of vines and ivy that blocked them, so there wasn't any chance to see inside there. The door was still exactly as shut as it had been all morning, and the fake letter from the local bookstore she had taped to it was still there and unopened. She wasn't going to be seeing anything with the binoculars, it looked like. She lowered the useless equipment away from her face, and turned her head to her saddlebags. She dropped the tool into the open pack, and fished her hoof past them for her next trick. The edge of a cord slipped against her frog, and she quickly looped her hoof through the string. She twisted once, twice, and raised her hoof with a long piece of thin, white rope wrapped around it. Her eyes dropped the the end of the loop, where a small, roughly cut blue gem was tightly tied. It glimmered slightly in the shadow, despite the lack of reflecting light; and she took a familiar moment to admire the construction that had gone into the unassuming piece of surveillance equipment. Not too long ago, about a year or so, she had witnessed Light's friend and high-profile pony of interest Applejack knock on his door several times throughout a day, to absolutely no answer. An investigation she had carried out while he was away had shown a strange amount of his hoofprints on his bedroom window, and temporarily moving her vantage point into the Everfree had revealed that he had been sneaking through the window to get to his cellar door. An obvious breach in their perimeter, in retrospect. A report to Her Highness had afforded her the resources to expand her repertoire, and to call in a specialist. She didn't know the ponies in the Magical Studies department, but it was apparently very easy for the unicorn who came by to install the wards. Any time Light or any other creature passed through his door, his cellar, or his windows, the wards would send a magical ping to the gem tied to her hoof. The gem would turn red and shake softly until its owner or somepony of sufficient authority checked it. The gem tied to her hoof was still blue, but it wouldn't hurt to check it anyway. She raised her hoof to her head, and her focus instinctively settled on the small glowing rock swinging softly in front of her eyes. As she understood it, the magical weave set through the tiny, magically receptive crystals that made up the gem was what gave it the eerie, ever-present glow. She didn't really care to learn the delicate intricacies of ward making and casting, but she didn't need to. She didn't make the tools, she just used them. If it worked, it worked. She took a deep breath through her nose, and slowly closed her eyes. Focusing entirely on her breathing was a good way to clear her mind, which was required for the spell. The entire thing was always pretty off-putting, but at least it was easy to put into practice. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Touch the gem to her forehead. Activity exploded into clarity before her mind's eye as the unmistakable feeling of blue filled her senses. Warmth spread upwards from her stomach as her innate magic flowed from her fount, receiving and receipting the information as it naturalized itself from one location to another. It surrounded her, whispering to her softly as the record of recent logged events filled her head. Nothing today. The last entry had been late last night, when Light had left his cellar. She sighed in sudden disappointment as she lowered the gem away from her forehead and the overflow of sensation left her. It would have been really convenient if Light had run away or something; at least there would be some action, then. Opening her eyes to the sight of Light's cottage on the horizon was the exact same scene as she'd left it. Everything was in order, which meant that Light was just sitting around in his house, doing who knew what. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed on it restlessly as she squinted to try to somehow see through the walls blocking her view. When the report came down from Canterlot that Her Highness had personally taken notice of something wrong with her charge, her first instinct had been to panic. Light had been acting even more erratic than usual lately, and if he had finally done something crazy, especially right after she had delivered another box to him, then it would be her fault for not subduing him. She had hightailed it to Light's shack as soon as the report had left her hooves, fully decked out with anti-unicorn equipment; ready to incapacitate the threat to her nation. She had found Light passed out in his cellar over a book, ink splashed messily on his face, smelling rather of something indecent. Getting a letter to Her Highness was her next impulse, and that had luckily turned back greater results. In the response she had received not long after, Her Highness had explained something that, until a few days ago, was something that She hadn't even known. Apparently, every box that was set to be delivered to Light Flow was tripped with a very hidden little spell. If Light was compromised in any way, physically or mentally, opening the box would trigger the spell to send a warning to a proxy that had been inexplicably tied to something personal that Her Highness owned. The thread of magic connecting the spell was so tiny and harmless, it had somehow managed to escape anypony's notice for however long it had been there. A major security breach, but her Highness didn't seem concerned. What did arouse Her attention was the very fact that the spell had gone off, which meant that there was something seriously wrong with Light. Something or someone had taken some kind of control of him, which was made all the more upsetting considering the upcoming event. The Summer Sun Celebration; or, as it was known to those few trusted ponies: the approximate time for the return of Nightmare Moon. Conclusions were leapt to, and Her Highness was now planning to make an unscheduled visit to personally check on the situation. A huge honor, and also hugely terrifying. She hadn't been able to come right away, since She was reportedly making arrangements for... the hopefully evitable; so the current assignment was to keep a constant watch on Light until She could make the trip. Hopefully soon, since there was very little time left before her assignment was.. over. An assignment that was somehow simultaneously nerve-destroying and mind numbing. Normally, she took sparse days and nights off to switch watch on Light with another local operative; but this was extremely high-priority, and the senior officer had orders to take complete control of the watch. Unfortunately for her, Junior Agent Rose wasn't so great at this kind of extreme surveillance. Long form surveillance was never fun, especially on top of a coming apocalypse. She had spent the lion's share of the time sitting in this tree, waiting and watching to ensure that Light didn't step out of line. Exercise came in the form of pull-ups and sit-ups on a higher branch to prevent potential atrophy, and sleep was supplemented with specially created energy pills. They were extremely harmful to a body in the long-term, but they provided nearly all the benefits of sleep while still allowing her to keep constant vigil. Five days, it had been. Five days sitting around and staring at the plain, brown walls of Light's cottage. He had gone out to town a couple of times, which had thankfully broken up the monotony and had also given her a few small chances to evaluate his condition. And wow, it wasn't great. Watching him stumble drunkenly around to various stores and other random places was creepy enough, but his appearance was even worse. He didn't seem to be showering, and his fur and mane were ruffled and stained in many spots. His favorite cloak clung unevenly to his body with what she guessed was sweat, and it caught on his limbs multiple times as he tripped and fell in broad daylight. What few glimpses she had caught of his face were never very reassuring. His eyes had been hooded and glassy; completely empty of life and light, as if he wasn't really awake. They also weren't the color they should've been, so there was another red flag. Intercepting reports to the police cost her precious time, and she had lost sight of him multiple times; though never for very long. The magical lure that had been drawn between his cloak and a compass in her saddlebags always let her know where he was, thankfully. All in all, he would usually leave for home not long after buying something and freaking out a large portion of Ponyville's shopkeepers. A clock, a notebook, some ink; nothing incredibly out of character. No reason to lower her guard, though. For as many 'quirks' as Light had, none of them should have resulted in... anything that he was doing. So, she had continued to watch. And watch, and watch. She had been trained for this kind of heavy stakeout, of course, but it still wasn't fun. "Excuse me!" A yelp nearly tore through her teeth as surprise sent her momentarily fumbling for purchase on the branch she lay on. Her hooves managed to wrap securely around the thick slab of wood, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief when she realized she wouldn't fall off. Her heart pounding, she turned a wide expression to the source of the cheery voice that had called out and broken the quiet. It couldn't have been addressing her, could it? But looking down beneath the tree revealed a sobering fear, as her eyes came to rest on a pegasus staring up at her with a wide smile on her face. The creamy white fur and wild multicolored mane set into a braid were wholly unfamiliar; and her mind raced to place the stranger. No, what was she thinking?! It didn't matter who the pony was, she was breaking her cover! What if somepony saw? What if she blabbed? How did she even find her?! Nothing mattered. She needed to act, now! She kept her wide stare on the intruding pegasus and her widening smile as her hoof dropped into her saddlebag. The crystal on a string fell away from her hoof with a careful flick, and she instead found the hard edge of blunt metal. Nothing special, just a retractable baton laced with a concussive trigger for a shock spell. Nothing special, but incredibly effective against unassuming close quarters combatants. She was jumping the gun, she knew that... But what was she supposed to do?! There was no rational explanation for creepily stalking some subjectively random pony, and there was no way that this pony wouldn't tell somepony! Consequences later; now, she would act for the Crown. Her heart was beginning to fall into a steady rhythm as the threat of confrontation loomed, and her breathing gradually steadied as- Her eyes found the pony's chest, and every plan that had begun to form instantly fell apart. The pony was wearing an amulet around her neck, secured by a simple golden chain. She was close enough to make out details even through the blur of rising panic, and she could see the distinctive shape of a jagged horn rising from a carving of an acorn on the metal. There was no high ranking officer in the entire government that couldn't recognize that very distinctive amulet. Her hoof flew away from her pack as quickly as it had gone, and she bit back a curse as she gathered her hooves under her. How could she be so stupid?! She had almost... A careful shove sent her falling from the branch, and the hard impact against the ground rattled her teeth. She ignored the miniscule pain, though; as her eyes dropped heavily to the ground in front of her. Her hooves found clumsy position on either side of her head as it lowered to nearly touch the dirt in a messy bow. "Your-" She choked for a moment as she swallowed haphazardly; and she gasped quietly as her eyes pointedly focused away from the white hooves on the edge of her vision. "Your Highness..!" Her words bled into the silence for more than a few moments as sweat began to run off her forehead. The complete lack of sound was deafening in the wake of her near actions, and she had to fight to keep a shake out of her legs. She had nearly attacked Princess Celestia. Her Royal Highness had personally come to meet her, and she had the gall to even consider harming Her...! She would accept any consequence, of course. There was no recourse for her actions, and no forgiveness. Even considering Her mercy, there could be no forgetting her actions here. Few crimes were as dire as high treason, and there was practically nothing as low as daring to raise one's hoof to Her. She was doomed. Very rightfully doomed. "You may rise." Her voice was so soft, so in spite of the incredible force that lurked behind the words. It was impossibly warm, though barely offering even a hint at the vast depths of Her Radiance. Fear washed away so gently beneath the soothing tones of Her words, and it was more than a wonderful gift to slowly raise herself off the ground to face Her Holy Visage. Even beneath the fake face she wore as a disguise, The Pure Goddess shone brilliantly through. Her small smile spoke of hidden humor in spite of her transgressions; and her hooded eyes held kindness beyond what she'd dared to imagine. She didn't even have to say anything, and she knew she had already been forgiven. Her Highness's face managed to keep an air of attached, well-meaning benevolence, even as its edges hardened in sudden stoicism. There was form to her authority now, and any tension in the air instantly sharpened to a point that flowed to a guided target in her words. "Report, Agent Sweetie Drops." Warmth welled in the corners of her eyes, but she did her best to blink them away. Her Highness's love was boundless, but that was no reason to break down. She could make a trek to church to express her gratitude some other time. This wasn't a social call; and right now, she had a job to do. Her hooves steadied beneath her as her back straightened, and her shoulders rolled as she noisily cleared her throat. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she stared into the expectant gaze behind the pale red eyes of Her Highness's disguise. Pressure to perform for authority was something familiar, and her wavering nerves were already steeling in the face of regulations. Deep breath, follow protocol. "Agent Sweetie Drops, E.I.A extra operative signed 647 in service to the Crown under the direct command of Her Royal Highness, Princess Celestia; reporting!" The harsh bark of her even tone words scratched at her throat, but tradition dictated certain mannerisms. Her Highness nodded once as she finished her rollcall, signifying that she could continue. She cleared her throat, and allowed the past few days' memories to flow. "As of Tuesday morning, following my impromptu briefing on the mission details, I relieved Junior Agent Rose, and took my altered post on guard of and against Extraneous Magical Threat sign 382C11; codenamed: Necromancer; informally named: Light Flow." "And you've kept your post?" The sudden question caught her momentarily off guard, and she blinked rapidly as her mouth hung open for a moment. Drilled-in instinct drove her to speak as she quickly coughed to clear her throat. "Yes, Your Highness. Watch has remained unbroken beyond four unconnected periods of one minute at most. Light Flow's whereabouts have been tracked to the finest detail." Her Highness considered something for a moment as her hoof came to rest under her chin, and her eyes lowered to the ground. She nearly asked for insight, but bit the words back at the last second. She wasn't here to ask Her questions, she was here to answer Hers'. It was a few moments of silence before Her Highness shook her head and lowered her hoof back to the ground. "You may continue, Agent." She always spoke so gently, as if She wasn't... Her. The highest authority in the land, and She still managed to keep an air of motherly affection in every situation. She had met Her Highness many times before, of course; but each encounter always managed to leave her in awe. The loyalty that drove her in her career was in no small part to the sheer force of loving presence that The Princess wielded. Just having this small chance at beholding even a shadow of Her was enough to make the tedious waiting of the last week completely worth it, no matter how it might eventually end up. It was a privilege to work for the Crown. "During extended watch over my charge, I noted several oddities that coincide with and escalate the rising trend of erratic behavior we've observed as of two Celestial years ago. Irrational confusion, increased levels of paranoia, and even what I believe could be the beginning symptoms of a kind of outlying corruption close to what is commonly seen in Black Magic practitioners." Her words hung in the air for a moment as Her Highness's face grew contemplative again. Her strangely messy, brightly colored hair fell to hide her face as her head turned away, and her ears strained as the edge of whispered words caught on the air. "Has he already begun..?" It wasn't likely that She was talking to her, but the answer to the unasked question was burning a hole through her tongue. Her Highness usually appreciated initiative, anyway. "Observation and speculation on my part has lead me to believe that he has not yet actually begun to practice any form of Black Magic." Her Highness's pale red eyes rose to focus on her face, and an immediate feeling of smallness grasped at her throat. It was only a moment, thankfully; and her suddenly labored breathing steadied out almost as quickly as it had hitched. It wasn't Her Highness's fault; She just commanded a very... intimidating presence, even in the best of times. Her eyes caught the barest hint of a fading frown on Her Highness's pale face, before it was gone and quickly replaced by concerned stoicism. "Tell me, how have the symptoms manifested?" The most obvious and pertinent question, and one she was somewhat dreading. This... was going to be the hard part. "As I said, the observed signs have been... strange. They don't lie within the mark of any known physical or mental changes that have always been recorded, and instead, seem to go in a.. different direction." Her Highness's face was beginning to grow grim, and she swallowed heavily as the temperature in the air seemed to rise a little. A very noticeable bead of sweat trailed directly down the back of her neck, and she had to suppress an shiver. She really wasn't looking forward to what was coming next. "Um... T-There haven't been enough signs to come to a definitive conclusion, but... it's been concerning..." The stammer in her voice was evident now, but it was really becoming harder and harder to stay calm. There was visible tension growing in Her Highness's flexing muscles, and the amulet around her neck had begun to glow a frightening yellowish bronze. Her furrowed brow seemed to shade the eyes that were barely even looking at her; instead staring out past her at something she probably wouldn't be able to see even if she turned to look. The temperature was definitely rising, as well; and her cheeks were beginning to flush in the heat. It was all incredibly off-putting, and only the constant mental reminder that Her Highness would never hurt her managed to stay her hooves from what was looking like a very well advised tactical retreat. Unease was building in her bones, fast; and she was beginning to lose track of the best course of action. She needed to keep Her Highness well informed, of course; but was it really best to unnecessarily stress her out so close to... well... She just needed to stay calm, and keep her faith. It would be okay, Her Highness would know what to do. "I-I was able to catch a glimpse of Light's face, and his eyes were.. um.. b-blue, and his pupils w-were.. well.. slotted-" The reaction was immediate. A grotesque snarl broke over the deep frown on Her Highness's face, though it was quickly lost as Her eyes literally flashed and shone into two wide circles of pure light. The chain holding the amulet around Her Highness's chest audibly snapped, and the entire thing disappeared into floating orbs of golden light; which were immediately overshadowed by an overpowering corona of shining energy that very quickly enveloped Her. A shaky gasp rose in her chest as she took an instinctive step back, though it died and withered halfway up as she was forced to throw a hoof over her eyes from the rising light. Her fur stood on end and her skin prickled as the temperature in the air skyrocketed. She could feel the grass directly under her hooves shrivel in the sudden wave of encompassing, dry heat. She was forced to breathe in short, hot gasps as the moisture in her mouth seemed to actively evaporate. The pressure in the air was constricting her chest, lowering her entire body closer to the ground; and she could barely hear her own heartbeat over the deafening sound of rising wind. Her Highness was mad; much angrier than she had ever seen Her before. She could never know how deeply Her Highness clearly loved Her subjects, but the absolute fury that vibrated in the air was beginning to paint some kind of picture... Finally, the blinding light seemed to abate slightly, and she could lower her hoof. Her eyes struggled to open against the burning breeze buffeting her face, and any tears that managed to squeeze through their corners just burnt away into the unforgiving burn. Forcing her body up was harder than she'd wished, and her spine actively fought and wobbled as she straightened to her best approximation of attention. A hoof slowly raised to weakly rest on her brow in a laughable salute, and her hyperventilating breaths came faster as her futilely watering eyes fully opened to the incredible sight waiting for them. Her Royal Highness. The Pure Goddess. Princess Sol Celestia. She stood in defiance of her former appearance like a marbled titan of old. Tall, perfect, and exquisitely beautiful. Her immaculately crafted golden regalia, formed to fit seamlessly to Her form, sat snugly against Her pure white coat; glowing a bright, bronzed orange in the heat that radiated from Her, almost as if it was about to melt. Her entire form was glowing, actually. Orange and white light poured from Her perfectly styled fur, nearly making it impossible to stare directly at Her. She was forced to constantly squint just to make out details, like the deep, purple stone set sternly into Her peytral that seemed to give off a noticeable otherworldly light. It stood starkly out from the many other kinds of light that shone from Her Radiance, for whatever reason. The air around Her shimmered and distorted as visible heat rolled off of Her. The grass under Her had long since blackened and burnt away in an increasing circle, and the nearby tree's bark had begun to chip off into cinders as the near surroundings turned to ash in spite of the lack of fire. Her huge, white wings were fully spread, cutting Her figure in an even larger form than usual. Each massive feather curled and straightened in perfect time with the rest in an aweing display of control. They fluttered and flapped powerfully as they manipulated the rising air to blow soot into the breeze. She stood far taller than regular, mortal ponies; somewhere over twice her own height. If literally anything else about Her failed to intimidate a pony, then Her massive height would certainly manage well enough. It made her feel so small, like a timid child; but she did her best to hold her stance and salute regardless. Even though her every breath was being stolen directly from her lungs, and blinding fear was sending chills running for safety along her back, and her hooves felt as though they could collapse at any moment. Her eyes were burning in the unnaturally sweltering environment, and she had to blink rapidly to keep her vision straight. She needed to take the spectacle in as best she could. This was the kind of thing poets and scribes lived their entire lives to see. She was a soldier of Equestria, and she would bear witness to her Ruler. Her Goddess. Her ethereal miasma of an auroral mane and tail flicked and snapped harshly in the air, like the crackle of a roaring fire; the ends fading to glowing wisps that sparked away in the breeze. It flowed around Her head in an angry storm that shadowed Her frowning face in dark tones. The muscles in her long, beautiful neck were strained to the bone with obvious tension as her tightly closed jaw repeatedly clenched and unclenched. Some kind of war was being waged behind those closed eyes, and she wasn't sure which side she was really rooting for. If her head had felt light before, then she should've been able to float, now. Blood was rushing uncomfortably quickly, and a flush was rising and falling in her cheeks faster than she knew was healthy. Her hair was matting down to her skin very uncomfortably as sweat dripped freely through her fur, though it really didn't do much better than any other moisture in the heady blaze. Given that the surroundings were slowly fading to ash, she really should've been far worse off than she was. It must have been due to Her Highness's restraint and mercy, though the slight delirium she could feel crawling at her neck was making her wish that She could hold it in just a little better. She had never been witness to any measure of Her Brilliance before, though. It was really... something. She felt extremely privileged, of course; but the longer she stood in awe of The Sun, the more she was sure that she couldn't handle it. It seemed like an eternity, but ever so gradually, the heat in the air began to quietly abate. Each breath in her chest came easier and easier, and the crushing pressure in the wind even lessened to an almost unnoticeable degree. The deafening light seemed to slowly roll backwards to its center, where it receded beneath Her Highness's pure white coat. Her intangible storm of a mane gradually came to a calm, where it peacefully returned to floating gracefully in an ever-present breeze. Her Highness's face had softened, and she could no longer count the cords in her long neck. Her internal debate seemed to be over, thankfully; which left her as the sole survivor. Her body felt bruised and battered, and she might have gotten some kind of sunburn; but she would carry on. Her cheeks were still hot, and her breath still hurt, but at least she wasn't in danger of fainting anymore. She would recover, as was her duty. The relief spreading through her extremities was life-saving, but saying anything to that affect may have been heretical; so it was probably best to keep it to herself. The surrounding area hadn't been as lucky as she was, though. The ground immediately under Her Highness had long since lost any greenery, and had instead been colored a rather sickly shade of black. It spread in a large, ugly circle that stopped less than a hoof-length from the base of the tree they stood next to. The tree.. had seen better days. Unlike the grass, it would probably recover in time, but the bark on the side they faced had been mostly stripped away, and many branches had been left bare. She might have to find a new vantage point. Finally, The Princess' eyes slowly drifted open, and the deep, magenta orbs beneath came to rest on her form. The ordeal of standing through The Sun's might had left her mostly drained, but she still gathered what little resolve she could find into staring back in a clear sign of preparedness. Her eyes slowly drifted across the scenery, taking in the violent changes in the greenery and her own red, sweaty face. Whether She felt regret for it, she would never know. Either way, Her Highness raised her head and closed her eyes once again, before opening them with a deep exhale. "Prepare to move in."