//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: The Lyrist and The Tempest // by Valiant wind //------------------------------// There were no more weird dreams for Lyra that night, and she had the most relaxing and replenishing sleep ever since she’d arrived at Memento. It was already morning when she opened her eyes. There were no sounds coming from downstairs or from across the hall. Nightjar and Grey Wind must both be still asleep. She looked out through the window—the sky was covered by a thin layer of grey clouds, and the town appeared a bit dim without the presence of sunlight. The perfect weather for their grand finale. This is it, Grey, she thought, if you are no longer a heartless puppet, then please, prove it to us today. She jumped off her bed and went down into the kitchen, then started making breakfast for the three of them. Nightjar was just walking down the stairs when she laid the sandwiches on the table. “You were awesome yesterday, Lyra!” She pounced up and wrapped her in her wing as soon as she saw her, “those songs…I almost cried!” “Oh, come on, they were just a few stupid self-written scripts that just happened to work…” Lyra laughed, looking into her eyes, “so, the final act, huh?” “The final act,” Nightjar sat down at the table, “I’ll go and prepare right away!” She quickly swallowed her egg sandwich and hopped out of the front door. Lyra herself sat onto one of the reading benches, reviewing the spellbook Nightjar had found yesterday. She could practically recite the entire page now, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Not soon after, Grey Wind came into the main hall. She had restored that cold, emotionless look on her face, yet Lyra caught her peeking at the room’s corner when she sat down at the table—the place where she’d left her lyre last night. “Morning, Grey!” She casually greeted, “Nightjar left for the forest. Breakfast is on the table.” “Alright,” Grey Wind blankly. When Lyra turned her sight away, however, she heard her voice again, “thank you.” “Huh?” Lyra raised her head in confusion. Grey Wind was already munching her sandwich. Was that…gratitude? She thought, narrowing her eyes, was that an…emotion? Grey Wind said nothing more after this. She silently finished her breakfast, sent the disk to the kitchen, then sat on her haunches on the couch and closed her eyes as if entering some kind of meditation. Lyra didn’t want to disturb her, so she went back to her book. The morning passed in utter quietness, and Lyra found herself uncontrollably peeking toward the clock one time after another as it got closer and closer to the time they’d agreed on. Thankfully Grey Wind didn’t seem to take notice. Finally, just in the minute when it struck eleven o’clock, the front door slammed open, and Nightjar rushed into the library. “Xe—xeomorphs!” She stammered, panting, “there are xeomorphs in the forest!” Upon hearing this, Grey Wind’s eyes opened in an instant. She jumped down onto the floor, wings half-open in alarm. “Take me to them,” she ordered. “But your wing—” “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Grey Wind tilted her head and caught the bandages on her wings with her teeth, then swung her head around and ripped them off. Her wing sprang out to full width and flapped a few times. Her sight was sharp as a knife, “the xeomorphs must be destroyed. Lead me to them now.” “Al—alright,” Nightjar turned around and the two ran outdoors. Just before exiting the door, Nightjar glanced at Lyra and threw her a claws-up. Lyra nodded to her. So far so smooth. She mentally counted a whole fifteen minutes—the time needed to get to the town exit outside the New Moon Forest—then put down her book and followed outside. Wasting no time, she went straight towards the town exit. Three ponies were already there when she turned into the Avenue leading to the forest. Warmhoof and a purple unicorn mare with a long dark blue mane were standing side by side. Cirrus was hovering above them, kicking the last few pieces of black clouds to their designated locations. “Ah, Lyra,” the unicorn greeted as she approached. She sounded much younger than Warmhoof, and Lyra guessed she was just two or three years older than her, “They had just entered the forest. We are finalizing the setup,” she looked around the households surrounding them and smiled, “I’ve notified the citizens. They’ll stay indoors until sunset. You will have your stage.” “I can’t thank you enough, Mayor Nebula,” Lyra said, “and please, express my gratitude to all the ponies living on this street.” “Oh, don’t be,” Nebula waved her hoof, “I grew up with Nightjar, so trust me. They are all more than happy to help her and her new friend.” “Pretty all the ponies in this town owe her in some way,” Cirrus said. He landed beside them, crossing his forelegs, “I was telling the truth yesterday. She never asked for suspension fees from me…even when I forget to return her book almost all the time.” “She is a strong one, I tell you,” Warmhoof sighed, “living on herself for all those years…I don’t even know how she managed to set up such a big library…” “Living on herself?” Lyra asked. The three ponies looked at each other. Cirrus stomped a hoof on the pavement. “That old hag was such an asshole…” he muttered. “Don’t say that, Cirrus,” Nebula said, “we have to respect their…traditions. Griffons who can’t fly are bound to be abandoned. Though…” her volume dropped, “…I’d really appreciate it if I am offered a chance to send her straight onto the sun…” “Her parents…abandoned her?” Lyra remembered Nightjar’s words a few days ago and shuddered. “Poor child. There is neither a place in Equestria nor in Griffonstone, but here…every pony sees her as family,” Warmhoof interjected and smiled, “I’m happy that she could make such a great new friend like you, Lyra.” “Then I will not fail her trust,” Lyra said. A wave of determination rose into her, “I’ll try the spell.” She lowered her head and lit up her horns. Ember magic leaked away from it and spiraled into the air, integrating into a ball of black-colored substance. With her careful manipulation, the liquid soon began to take shape, shifting into the shadow of a tall pony-shaped creature. It bore some resemblance to an oversized unicorn, but its horn was curled in the shape of a jagged scimitar, and there were three sharp talons on each of its hooves. “A nightmare beast?” Nebula raised an eyebrow, “the dogs of Nightmare Moon…huh. Is this what Nightjar had been talking about all the time? The beast of the New Moon Forest?” “They should be extinct for more than a thousand years,” Warmhoof nodded, “but I still prefer to trust her.” “According to her description, it should be it,” maintaining her magic, Lyra waved her hoof, and the shadow waved back. The spell was working just fine. “Anything could work,” Cirrus said, “as long as you make it as scary as possible.” “It’s about time,” Nebula glanced at the sky, “they’ll be returning soon. To our places, everypony. And Lyra,” she turned to her and smirked, “good luck.” And so they left, scattering into their pre-selected hiding spots, leaving Lyra alone on the street. Lyra retrieved her magic, trotting up to the street’s center and gazing towards the town exit in a distance. At any time, Grey Wind and Nightjar will appear at the exit, and by that time she will be “attacked” by the magically-generated nightmare beast she controls. And then… If you can feel emotions now, Grey Wind, you’ll understand why I saved you from the xeomorphs, she thought, and you will do the same for me. The air was getting colder, and the town around her was darkening. The clouds Cirrus had brought along were getting denser, and less and less light was passing through them. Although it was only afternoon, the street felt as if it was midnight. It was giving her quite the creeps. It was too cold and too dark. Then, finally, after what felt like an entire life--time, Lyra heard hoofsteps and clawsteps. There was the sound of talking—Grey Wind and Nightjar had finally returned. Time to put up the show. Lyra concentrated her magic on the horn, then cast the mirage spell. Ember energy rose to the air, and then… …vanished. Lyra’s eyes widened. She tried again, reaching into her magic supply and releasing them into the air. Her horn didn’t even light up this time. When her magic touches the air around her, they just sort of…dissipate. Something is wrong. Remembering her lessons at school, she closed her eyes and concentrated her attention on the nearby magic flows. Then she immediately felt it—the magic around her was all flowing in the same direction. An entity, a living entity, was sucking magic away from the atmosphere. And that entity was directly behind her. She realized just a second too late. Before she could turn back, a hard claw crashed into her back, sending her flying off into the air. The world swirled in her eyes, and then she rammed back-first into the pavement. Pain exploded through her body as something wrapped itself around her torso and yanked her up. When she could see things again, Lyra found herself staring into a pair of scarlet eyes, a curved horn, four talon-embedded hooves, and an open mouth full of sharp, needle-shaped teeth. A nightmare beast. A REAL one instead of a magically-generated shadow. “Lyra…Heartstrings…” The beast mumbled coarsely, “…finally found you…” She was thrown off like a rock from a catapult, lying flat against a building’s doorstep. From her blurred vision, she saw a cluster of shadows condensing onto the beast’s horn, forming a long, black blade. She wanted to think of a spell or simply spring up and flee, but her limbs were not responding. The beast aimed the blade at her throat, then reared up and slashed down.