Lyra knew she must’ve appeared as if she’d just seen a ghost. With shaken hooves, she raised the box out of the saddlebag, staring into its keyhole. The box looked as if it had just come to life after a long sleep, the circular patterns dancing in a broad, emerald arc. Already she could feel waves of energy pausing around her—the box was now filled up with magic.
“Wow! Your mother left you with this?” Nightjar crept over to her side, looking at the box curiously, “where’s that glow coming from? It’s so beautiful!”
“I don’t know. It has never done this before,” Lyra answered, scratching her head. She’d suspected that the box contained some kind of magic tinkering in the previous days and had tried multiple detection spells on it, but none of them had worked. Something—something that happened after she arrived at Memento—must’ve triggered the hidden mechanisms of the box, but what was it?
The answer popped into her head immediately. It was too obvious. She hadn’t encountered many events in this town. There was only that encounter by the lake and that accident a few seconds ago, not to mention…
Her eyes fixed on the jar of xeomorphs on the table.
…there was only one thing her box had been staying with the whole time.
She trotted over and lowered her horn beside the jar. Closing her eyes, she gathered a subtle amount of magic on her horn, reaching into the flows of energy around her. She felt it almost immediately—something was wrong with the nearby magical fields. Normally, the magic flows across Equestria are even, distributed uniformly throughout the world, while right now the magic around her seemed to have formed some kind of bridge connecting the xeomorphs and her box, magic flowing down through it like a stream.
The xeomorph was injecting energy into her mother’s relic. Or, rather, the box was sucking magic from it.
“This—this box” She stammered, “it’s drawing magic from the xeomorph! I can feel it!”
“For real?” Nightjar cocked her head, “but isn’t this box made by Mrs. Heartstrings? I read in a book that—”
Lyra irritably raised a hoof, showing that she was perfectly aware of what Nightjar was going to say. Any educated creature would know that all living organisms of Equestria hold magic within them, only that the ability to extract and utilize that magic is limited to very few species of animals, such as unicorns and changelings. Each kind of creature would possess the magic of a unique frequency, which is exactly why even Starswirl the Bearded himself would not be able to replicate the spells of sirens or changelings. If an object shows the magical wave pattern of a certain species of animals, then there could be only two possibilities: either that object was a part of the creature’s body, or whoever had made the object had forcefully extracted the creature’s magic and injected it into his creations.
But that means…Lyra glanced at the window. It was already night, and the sky was covered by a disk of grey clouds, veiling the stars and the moon. The former was clearly impossible, but the latter…
She shook her head. Magic extraction spells are extremely difficult to cast and strictly prohibited. All the scrolls recording them had been destroyed even before the banishment of Nightmare Moon. There was no way her mother would know about them.
“Maybe there’s something special about the xeomorphs?” Nightjar suggested, “the property of changeling magic allows changelings to change shapes, so what if the property of xeomorph magic allows it to be easily extracted and used?” Her eyes lit up as she clapped her front claws, “hey, this could be another lead left by your mom! Maybe she wanted you to find that method and use it to open the box!”
“Maybe…” But she could’ve told me directly… Lyra thought and sighed, just what kind of game are you playing with me, mother?
She went over to the jar, grabbed it, and stuffed it into her saddlebag. If only she knew more about these creatures. Perhaps Nightjar had a book in Cosmetic Balcony that could tell her—
Wait, she was forgetting somepony. Lyra turned towards the door.
Grey Wind. She’s been hunting them. If anypony knows best about the xeomorphs, then it would be her. It would also be a chance
…Assuming all that she said was true…
“Hey, we could ask Grey Wind!” Nightjar pointed out in a good time, “she certainly knows about the xeomorphs!”
“Good idea,” Lyra nodded. She passed Nightjar and went towards the door, “Did you see where she went after saving me?”
“I think she chased the xeomorphs into the forest…but—” Nightjar threw a worried look towards the window, “it’s already night, maybe you should go tomorrow—”
“I can’t wait for that long,” Lyra simply replied while opening the door.
“But you are still bandaged!” Nightjar scratched the floor, “at least—I’ll go with you!”
Lyra wanted to refuse, to tell her that there was really no need to spend any more of her efforts on helping her, but Nightjar had already hopped out of the door, and she could do nothing but follow. Soon they were back within the New Moon Forest, treading along the lamp-lit path through the forest’s middle. Quite to Lyra’s surprise, even without the moon, the forest was not that dark. Tiny luminescent mushrooms sprouted out between the vines and tree roots, and there were many tall herb-like plants growing between the lines and lines of old oak trees, their disk-shaped leaves emitting a mysterious silver glow.
“Those are Crescent Reeds—their leaves secrete a fluid that glows in the dark,” Nightjar said, noticing her sights. She jogged over to Lyra’s side, and asked hastily, “um—just asking, I didn’t really catch where she went, so how are we going to find her?’
“It’s easy—we look for the xeomorphs,” Lyra had it all planned out. She still remembered how the magic energy floating out of the xeomorphs felt like. Lighting up her horn, she casted a simple detection spell, searching for the frequency of the xeomorph’s magic. She saw it almost immediately—right there in front of them, four flickers of magic were wavering in the air, flapping like a flock of panicked doves. Her magic supply had recovered a bit while they walked, but they were still not enough to pinpoint their exact separation with them. She could only see their directions.
If Twilight was here, things would have…she hardly pushed that thought away before motioning towards Nightjar;
“I see them. Follow me!”
She then diverted from the main path and plunged herself into the forest, Nightjar following closely behind her. Twigs and dead leaves snapped under their hooves and claws as they whirled between the stumps, vines, and tree trunks, the magical glows of the xeomorphs getting larger and larger.
“Ly—Lyra! Slow down!” Nightjar exclaimed, struggling to keep up, “If we make too much noise, we’ll be in danger!” she panted, “there—there is a monster here, somewhere…” her eyes shrank into pinpricks, “the town ponies kept telling me I was just seeing things, but I knew what I saw!”
“How could you be so sure?” Lyra asked carelessly.
“Because—because…”
Nightjar sharply stopped and landed an uneasy front claw onto her shoulder.
“Because that’s…” she said slowly, “that’s what took my wing…when I was younger…”
Lyra’s hooves ferociously trembled, nearly tripping over a rock. She stopped as well, went over to Nightjar, and softly patted her shoulder. Their eyes met, and they turned away at the same time and broke again into running, no further exchange of words. Soon they started hearing noises, the hum of swaying branches, and the fluttering of wings. The trees around them were becoming sparser, and a green light was leaking out from their fringes, too strong to be natural. Before Lyra had any time to think about it, they had already stumbled into a small clearing. There was the screech of something tearing through the air at a ridiculous speed, and then a grey object rammed straight into a stump beside her. Dust covered her vision, and the same object instantly sprang back into the air, cutting through the dust like a scissor through a fabric. The light of her magic illuminated the dark forest, and Lyra gasped.
It was Grey Wind. The grey pegasus was swirling left and right in the air, the green stripes on her mane and tail emitting a bright emerald glow. Four clusters of xeomorphs were swarmed around her, soaring and thrusting and desperately trying to knock her out of the air. High-pitched humming invaded Lyra’s ears, hammering her eardrums.
“What the—” Confusion, shock, and ultimately fear circled through Nightjar’s eyes. She grabbed Lyra’s leg, “There’s too many! We…we need to help her!”
“How?!” Lyra groaned, her eyes darting through the clearing. Neither Grey Wind nor the xeomorphs was gaining any advantage over each other. They were both too small, and too fast. The xeomorphs could not catch Grey Wind, and every time she got a hold of one of them, another would immediately jab from the side and cut off her pursuit. She stared down at the dirt, trying her best to ignore the Celestia-forsaken humming and think of a plan. Nightjar couldn’t fly, and she had no confidence to land an attack spell on the xeomorphs without hitting Grey Wind while they are so closely entangled. Maybe if she could find a perfect chance, then a constriction spell—
CRACK!!!!
She heard the horrifying sound of snapping bones. Nightjar screamed. Lyra raised her head and just managed to see Grey Wind crashing head-first onto the ground, lying unconscious beside a protruding boulder. The xeomorphs had gathered together, integrating into a long, black spear. With a loud hum of excitement, it stabbed straight down, aimed at Grey Wind’s chest.
“Grey Wind!!!!” Nightjar cried as Lyra pounced forward, placing herself between Grey Wind and the xeomorphs. Magic poured out of her horn as she shaped her magic into a mass-constriction spell. A sphere of golden light materialized around the advancing xeomorphs, enveloping them within. The tip of the spear dissipated into a grey smoke as it collided with Lyra’s magic, forcing the xeomorphs away from their path. Lyra felt the strain on her horn again, but somehow the xeomorphs’ struggles were much weaker this time.
I—I can do this! A syringe of courage rushed up into her mind.
“Nightjar, get Grey Wind out of here!” She shouted. Concentrating her will on her magic, she reared up and slammed her front hooves into the ground, using the momentum to release the full strength of her spell. The magic sphere broke through the xeomorphs’ retaliation as it rapidly shrank inwards, then exploded in an ember spark. Lyra panted as her horn died down, her eyes searching for any more incoming danger. The humming disappeared, the clearing returning to the silent songs of crickets and fireflies. The xeomorphs were destroyed, blasted off into millions of tiny grey dots flying off into the night.
“Lyra!” Nightjar called urgently behind her before Lyra could finish her sigh of relief. She was knelt beside Grey Wind, pushing her front claws onto her forehead. Fresh blood was trickling down the pegasus’ mane, and one of her wings was leaning against her flank at an impossible angle.
“Her wing is broken! And her head…I don’t know…” she muttered, sounding utterly scared, “What—what should we do? We can’t just…”
“We need to get a doctor,” The calmness of her voice nearly surprised Lyra herself, “is there a clinic in the town?”
“I—” Nightjar took a deep breath, “I know a pony that could help her! Come on!”
She then stood up as Lyra picked Grey Wind with her magic and gently settled her onto Nightjar’s back. Carrying her, the two found their way back to the forest’s main path and started running. They went all the way through the forest and back onto the street of Memento, past the central square and the Luna statue, then onto Moonlit Avenue. They stopped at a small building a block away from the Cosmetic Balcony, where Nightjar quickly knocked on the door.
“Doctor Warmhoof!” she cried, “please, we have an emergency!”
The door was answered by a brown-coated earth pony stallion in a white robe. His pair of glasses was leaning awkwardly on his muzzle as if he had just been woken up from his sleep.
“Nightjar, it’s almost midnight—” his eyes widened as he saw Grey Wind, “sweet Luna…quick,” he opened the door and motioned inside, “bring her in.”
Lyra and Nightjar walked into a small room with a bed and a desk standing on one side. A shelf of needles, pliers, and other medical instruments was against the wall across from it. Doctor Warmhoof went over to the shelf and grabbed a roll of gauze and a small pincer.
“Put her onto the bed,” he ordered while unwrapping the gauze. Nightjar went over and carefully settled Grey Wind onto the bed. Doctor Warmhoof then went over and separated the pegasus’ mane with a hoof. His brows knitted.
“She needs a few stitches. Good thing the bleeding has stopped,” he said, then turned to her broken wing, “gotta need an X-Ray shot for this. Give me a moment.”
He went upstairs through a staircase in the room’s corner and soon returned with a machine that has a huge black screen installed in its center and an odd-looking mask.
“You’d better wait outside,” he said, “the radiation and everything.”
Lyra and Nightjar nodded and retreated outdoors, where they waited in silence. After an arduous five minutes that felt like many days, the door reopened, and Doctor Warmhoof appeared in the door frame. His expression was much softer now.
“Her skull was not broken. It was the concussion that got to her. The wing, though…” he said, scratching his chin, “I’ve never seen anything like this before. The skins and muscles were all intact, not even a single bleed, but the joint was practically snapped in half.” He eyed Nightjar suspiciously, “Nightjar, what happened to her?”
Lyra and Nightjar shared a glance.
“Um…I don’t know,” Nightjar answered as sincerely as possible, “we found her in the forest. Looks like she fell from the sky.”
“Then she probably crashed on her left wing,” Warmhoof nodded and sighed, “she was lucky. Won’t be flying for a few weeks, but at least the damage is reversible. She will recover, given the time.”
“Thank Luna…” Nightjar let out a breath of relief, “and thank you as well, Doctor Warmhoof.”
“No problem, it’s just a part of my job,” Warmhoof waved a hoof, then turned to Lyra, “and this is…oh,” he scanned her from head to tail, “you’re…you’re the Heartstrings’ daughter, aren’t you?”
“Yes, my name is Lyra,” Lyra answered carefully, “um, you know my parents?”
“How would I not?” Warmhoof smiled, “Melody was the best crafter in all of Equestria. She made nearly all the toys for the fillies in town.”
“Do you have any idea where she ended up?” Lyra asked hopefully.
Warmhoof’s smile faded.
“Afraid not,” he said, “she lives away from the town, so I only see her when she visits the market. Then one day she just…stopped coming, I guess.”
“Oh…”
“Don’t worry, Doctor Warmhoof,” Nightjar chimed, “we have a new lead now! We will find Mrs. Heartstrings!”
“Nightjar has told me about your…situation,” Warmhoof nodded, “sorry about that. If you need any help, you can always come to me. A friend of Nightjar is a friend of mine,” he looked between the two girls, “well, I suggest you two go and get some rest. She won’t be waking up in a few hours, not to mention the follow-up treatments. I’ll inform you as soon as she is conscious.”
“Thanks again, Doctor Warmhoof,” Lyra said, “good night.”
“I pray for your luck, Lyra. Blessing of the moon upon your quest,” Warmhoof smiled again and closed the door, leaving the two friends alone on the street.
“Come and stay at my place,” Nightjar said to Lyra, “it’s too late now, can’t possibly have you walk all the way through the forest. And…” she grinned, “I’ve got a theory that I’d like to prove.”
“Alright,” Lyra agreed. There was no way she was going back into the New Moon Forest, not when there could still be blood-thirsty xeomorphs on the loose. The fatigue of the day was finally catching up, and her coat was desperately missing the soft bed. She glanced at the statue of the central square when they started walking home. Princess Luna was still maintaining her regal gesture, reaching toward the sky as if she was going to challenge the majesty of the stars. She suddenly had this weird feeling that everything was just at its beginning, and that her answer was not going to come any time sooner.
O, Princess Luna, she prayed towards the statue, please, at least grant me a good dream tonight…