Dear Mum,
It’s gotten worse. Guiding is gone. Visited the hospice this afternoon when he didn’t join the town search party in the morning. All we could find was an unfinished letter to the Royal Guard requesting assistance and the nubs of some burnt-out candles by his desk. Silver blamed himself since he wasn’t able to get Guiding’s replacement shipment in time. Things escalated even further when it was discovered that Ole Money, Ember Smith, and Post Runner were also missing. No trace of any of them except for some empty candle holders and smashed lanterns.
Well, not the only trace. There was also oil splattered around the busted lanterns. We had presumed it was just leaking fluid, but it didn’t quite match the typical stuff we use. Fine Wine, on a second look, noted that it was the same as the oil found near Hem’s lantern. He ended up apologising since he had presumed at the time that it was the regular oil. Hard Tacks suggested it was some special stuff from Canterlot. The more panicky members of the herd were claiming it was left by the shadow monster.
Speaking of, with seven ponies missing due to unknown circumstances, it was inevitable that the discussion would return to that nonsense. Fine Wine had started the whole thing by saying that he’d seen the lights out at Ember Smith and Post Runner’s homes the night before. Clove Brew added that he’d seen Ole Money’s lights go out too. Everything went to Tartarus when Henny Crafts screamed that the monster had got them.
Fear settled over us nearly instantly. It was harder to wave off the rumours when they seemed to be coming true and Guiding had been the only one able to keep us all sane.
Somepony suggested heading for the nearest town, but Hard Tacks had retorted that the journey was too long. If light really did ward off the beast, they wouldn’t make it to Appleloosa before the lanterns ran out of oil.
Silver shouted that it didn’t even matter since only strong light could ward off the monster. I thought it was a load of hooey since no one had mentioned that before, but others started backing him up, using the smashed lanterns as evidence that he was right. Hard Tacks told them off saying that it was all hearsay, which ended up starting a big ole’ kerfuffle over whether the rumour was true or not.
Jam Tart, of all ponies, ended up shutting the whole thing down. Told the herd they were getting carried away with themselves and that they should take the time to rest. Followed up by saying that they can all meet the next morning and decide on what to do then. This calmed down the herd enough for everyone to go their separate ways.
Spit Take approached me afterwards and asked to stay at Hem’s place for the night. Said he felt it was too dangerous to be alone. I agreed to let him stay with me, which is why I’m now held up in my bedroom with Spit Take laying on a pile of blankets by my bed. We have about half a dozen lanterns lighting up the room, just in case, but this strong light business is probably a whole bunch of hogwash.
Course, I’ve never seen the night be so dark before. Every time I look out my bedroom window, the darkness feels almost sinister to me. Like it wants to hurt me, but can’t quite reach. But that’s just the nerves talking. I’m sure everything will be fine in the morning. It has to be. Good night, mum.
Love, Cross