//------------------------------//
// Staring Into Shadows 
// Story: Decretum 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Twenty: Staring Into Shadows
~BlackRoseRaven

Scrivener Blooms was feverish and weak, and Luna Brynhild was almost frantic with worry for him as she paced back and forth, her heavy hoof-steps wearing down the tiles of the bedroom floor. Sometimes she would try and sit down, try and comfort him, but the stallion barely seemed aware of her as he shivered and moaned miserably, spending most of his time in a state of unconsciousness or delirium.
She could feel his panic and his pain, and knew that the only reason she wasn't being targeted by the poisons herself was because of the way the corruption had seeped and melded into Scrivener's psyche, the way it had always targeted him and him alone. And yet that was why she was helpless to help him, even with their mental link: she couldn't see into his mind when he was like this, she couldn't soothe his tortured thoughts, she could only feel the edge of the torment that was ripping back and forth through the stallion's tattered mind.
So she paced, frantic, afraid: when she stopped moving, even if it was to try and hug him, to try and rest against him, the thoughts would quickly well up, but moving at least let her lie to herself that she was doing something, anything. She envied Scarlet Sage, who spent her time sitting silently by her father, staying in quiet contact with him and tending to him with a cold compress... and she admired her bravery, as well, the way the young mare hadn't turned away from her father in need... had even tried to make a blood connection with him to attempt to soothe the corruption in his mind, but the Blood Seer's powers had failed. All she had felt in the few moments it had lasted was agony, before she'd been forced to break the link.
Pinkamena was sitting outside the bedroom: sometimes the half-demon would come inside, and just silently look at Scrivener for a few minutes before leaving again to sit out in the hall. She guarded him loyally, sitting stoic as stone, refusing entry to anypony unless Luna gave them permission to pass, and no one dared to test the half-demon's patience with the gleam in her eye and the heft of her battle axe.
The Princesses had visited and tried to help, but neither of them had been able to do anything, and nor could Twilight Sparkle. Rainbow Dash had already been dispatched to head to the Everfree Forest with all haste to speak to Zecora when Luna Brynhild had half-pleaded for them to retrieve several elixirs from the zebra. She only hoped that this layer's Zecora would be as talented and forthcoming as she was back in their home layer...
The only time Luna had been away was to relate the events as best she could to the Princesses, who were concerned not only about Scrivener Blooms, but about what had happened... and whether or not there could be more ponies like Visionary. Her corpse had been brought back to Canterlot, and the ponies had been horrified by it: complex, unrecognizable mechanical parts inserted here and there throughout her form, broken glass baubles for eyes that still had traces of malign magic in them, mutilations and signs of massive experimentation across her withered frame. And part of what scared them so much was that Visionary had obviously been suffering for a long time from the extensive damage to her body, and yet this weakened... thing... had been strong enough to lay a savage, near-lethal beating into Scrivener Blooms. Scrivener Blooms, who they saw as a warrior pony from another world that had stood with ease beside Luna against the Princesses themselves and their forces, who had been one of the two ponies that had charged recklessly through the Changeling Hive and captured their nemesis, Chrysalis.
If there were more of these alien beings, if there was even one other such creature, and it wasn't in wounded condition, it could be enough to threaten Equestria. And it had something to do with the meteor... the meteor, which carried a strange, malevolent magic in the crystals packed inside the hollowed-out, brittle stone shell. Pieces of it had been taken back for analysis at the magic academy, too, and they couldn't recognize the magic... but the stone, they discovered, was a type of synthetic, rare mineral substance. When first formed it would be armor-like and nearly indestructible, with a weak electrical charge running through it... but as the charge faded, the stone rapidly decayed into this brittle shale. It was the same material used for specialized golems, and it pointed towards the fact that this meteor had been constructed by someone or something that likely did not have the best intentions in mind.
Luna Brynhild had spoken at length with the Princesses despite wanting to be at Scrivener's side... but talking things over with them helped her focus, helped her figure things out, and she knew they had to be prepared for what might be coming. She ensured to leave no detail untouched, surprising both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna with her forcefulness and the way she was determined to attend to even the smallest of details to ensure she had every little bit of useable information possible that could help her solve this riddle. She only hoped that when Scrivener pulled through his delirium, it would be with the rest of the answers they needed. She wouldn't let herself consider the idea that Scrivener wouldn't pull through... nor that he might be damaged by what he was experiencing.
But Scrivener himself was barely even aware of what was going on in his own mind, trapped in the grips of memories and fragments of worlds not his own, as he convulsed and shivered in bed, every now and then rasping and babbling to the ceiling. He wasn't aware of Luna, pacing around the room, or when he was visited by other concerned ponies, or Scarlet Sage, even when she carefully wiped his face with a cloth or attempted to at least get him to drink a little water. He was trapped again, trapped in the darkness, and this time it was for longer than he had ever been before, and in a more alien, more horrible hell than he had imagined... and yet, sickeningly, some deep, twisted part of himself was fascinated by the experiences as he stumbled through worlds of strange and warped memories.
When he put all his effort into concentrating, he was half-aware that there was some... sense, some pattern to everything that had happened. When he pushed himself to remember, he could clearly recall Visionary's grim gaze, boring into his as she'd passed some piece of her dying mind into him. And when he thought hard, there was knowledge there, in his mind; he was learning things from these dark visions, but they were far from things he wanted to know. Things like how Visionary had already been dying when they had fought, had perhaps been kept alive purely by will and rage alone. Things like how there was an entire world out there that Valthrudnir had toyed with and transformed into some grisly laboratory where he could play with people he captured like toys, where he could corrupt and modify and mutate Odin's creations to better suit his own visions of 'perfection.'
And as Scrivener wandered the world of memories, certain things stuck with him: some of the visions were fuzzy and broken, others so clear and crystalline it felt like he was experiencing them himself when he saw them... like how he screamed in his mind – and unknowingly, had gone into a convulsion and had a shrieking fit in reality as well, terrifying Luna and Scarlet Sage – when mechanical ponies in masks had slowly used horrible torture implements to carefully scoop out his eyes.
But they hadn't really been his eyes: they had been Visionary's. He knew he was experiencing her memories, in fragment and in whole, and the only thing that kept him sane through the monumental tortures she had suffered and he now was feeling, was both the dark, godawful fascination inside his broken spirit and that there would be an end. There had to be an end, as visions skipped and stuttered around him, and voices whispered, sometimes as clear as day, other times only distorted murmurs that made no sense.
And in memory, he saw the way she did: no longer could her eyes make out physical shape or form, but instead shadows, blurs, heat and even... sound. And everything, every one of these phantasmal shapes, emitted some kind of smog and aura in her memories, making their nature clear as a voice whispered: She's resisting the reprogramming. Her intelligence has increased but she clings to her old self... maybe it's because her mind is different from ours...
Static... and a short, clipped vision of Valthrudnir, as the Jötnar said coldly: It doesn't matter. A failure is a failure, and she has no suitable purpose. Use her for further amplification and experimentation, she doesn't matter now that we have the Prophet. It's too bad, though: I tried to give her a gift. I tried to make her better than she ever could have been on her own.
Harsh breathing, the sensation of hanging from chains, the feeling of restraints as shapes approached in vision, and Scrivener drooled in the shadows, losing his sense of self as the memories took over. He was hanging from the wall, but it wasn't him: it was Visionary. He was Visionary now, staring as two ponies approached with the dark shape of some object she couldn't make out... but one walked on its hind legs, and their auras were strange, the shapes of their bodies riddled with what she had learned to recognize over her long imprisonment in this facility as electricity, as one – Beauty, her name is Beauty – said contemptibly: Your usefulness has come to an end, I fear. Your vital signs have been steadily dropping... but don't worry. We've been ordered to dissect you to find just how you've been able to resist the reprogramming for so long...
She felt herself being taken down, and she kept her body limp and weak: the two were arrogant, and the moment they took their attention off her and let her slump back against the wall, she leapt forwards, throwing a vicious flurry of blows into the face of the second pony and feeling something crunching under her hooves as Beauty staggered in surprise.
The one she had assaulted screamed in shock, and then she seized it and threw it hard over the object they had brought with them. The strange, wounded pony crashed against Beauty, who yelled in frustration and fury before Visionary turned quickly, sprinting wildly down halls that she could barely see thanks to her accursed, broken eyes as Beauty howled furiously: Breakbeat, get off me, stop her!
But it was too late: she reached the doors, plowed through them, and threw a hoof backwards at a switch that was all too clear to her strange vision thanks to the electricity running through it. It shattered, and the doors behind her slammed closed and sealed shut, leaving her standing for only a moment in the halls of the prison as she panted, then turned...
And Scrivener Blooms staggered in the memories, his sense of self returning as he gasped and trembled, breathing hard and staring wildly back and forth through the shadows around him before he stared ahead, seeing an archway of light... and wildly, he scrambled towards this, not knowing why or how as his mind shivered, as his sense of self diminished and returned, flickering between corrupted Scrivener Blooms and wounded Visionary...
He leapt through the archway, into the white light... and there was another flash of memories as Visionary crashed to the field, skidding and rolling violently through the grasses. Her wounded body was bleeding heavily, her eyes were clenched shut with agony... but there was the warmth of the sun above her, and green grass beneath her. She stared slowly back and forth, drooling and disoriented, seeing the flaring lights of living things that had never been touched by Valthrudnir's horrors... but also the senseless, wild glowing shapes of Soldier Drones. Shape-changing, barely-sentient creatures that had been sent through the Black Mirror, just like she had run through, following them, knowing that the mechanical and alien soldiers of the Prophet and her master wouldn't dare to follow her without orders... and that they all simply expected her to die, anyway.
And they were right. She was going to die... but perhaps first, she could do some good. She could find the probe, and sabotage it... oh, she had learned so much over the years spent on the operating table and the torture racks in the prison facility. They never knocked her out, after all, they didn't care how much agony they inflicted on her, a failed puppet... but it was amazing just what kind of information the mind could absorb, even in the worst of pain, as Beauty and her lackeys had chatted casually while they extracted this or attached that...
She knew what they were doing. The probes, camouflaged as harmless rocks, launched into every layer of reality. They emitted a pulse that would travel  across the layer, detecting ponies and gathering information like radar. The Drones collected information as well, hunted and scouted for the Prophet... but it was the probe that was important. The probe was what allowed the Prophet to see into other realities... the probe was what acted like a temporary way-point, letting the Prophet and her minions record the coordinates and information necessary to label a world like a town on a map, to learn about it before she sent in exploration teams or worse...
The Prophet was looking for two ponies: two ponies that it was rumored had killed Valthrudnir. And how Visionary hoped that was true... and maybe, if she was able to hunt them down before she died, she could warn them that his machinations were still in play, that there was still more than a mere fragment of his will at work. The chances were slim, of course: there were still many worlds, many layers of reality, and she didn't know how long her body would last before it shut down completely. The pain didn't bother her... but the infections, the wounds, the damage done to her were all sapping her strength...
She had been able to sense the probe. It hadn't been hard to find: the worst part was dragging herself through the miles of forest to reach it. By the time she arrived, it was nightfall... and to her horror, there was something already lurking there. Something that reeked of Valthrudnir's corruption despite how different it seemed from the clockwork creatures of his clockwork world...
And in that moment, memories tangled together: Scrivener felt his own wonderment at the meteor, and felt Visionary's fury and fear. He felt the blow all over again when her hoof had smashed into his face, and he felt her mind, screaming her need to take revenge, to fight with all her strength and kill this emissary and destroy the probe so that the Prophet wouldn't be able to catalog this world for whatever nefarious designs she had...
Scrivener experienced the fight all over again, this time from both sides: he felt the agony of Visionary as she threw not simply every last reserve into the battle, but more, drawing on strength she had never believed she'd had. She thought of her dead daughter, of the world Valthrudnir had taken away, of everything she had lost and the way her Equestria had been corrupted: of her promise to stop any other world from experiencing the same fate if she could.
And then she felt her horror as they'd gone down, down, down, the agony of the crash making Scrivener howl in a mixed voice: his own, and Visionary's. And the pain wasn't the worst part anymore... it was the sense of failure, of being unable to stop this... whatever-it-was even as she dragged herself to her hooves...
And then the others had come. The half-demon was fast and agile, but her eyes, her ability to see and sense things, gave her the advantage and let her take it down. And then the burning dark light of the Valkyrie had appeared... and it had all locked into place as she had realized that even if she was dying... she could impart one last gift. A curse, and a blessing, to the pony across from her who, just like her, had Valthrudnir's mark on him... but had resisted it somehow, by some unknowable way...
Scrivener closed his eyes... and when he opened them, he found himself staring across at Visionary. She was battered and bruised as he remembered her, her blindfold loosely hanging around her neck, away from her cracked glass eyes... and then she whispered softly: “I'm sorry. But I needed you to see. I needed to warn you. Now you know some of what you're up against. Now, you can see, like I can see.”
“I...” Scrivener trembled, staring across at her, and then he whispered: “I'm sorry, too. And... thank you, but... I don't know what I can do. I'm scared, and I'm trapped, and I'm in the darkness again. The corruption is so strong... and I'm not what you think I am. Luna's the hero... I'm the weak link, the monster... and there's such... such a growing allure in...”
But Visionary only smiled faintly at him, stepping forwards and reaching up a hoof as she said gently: “You made it through this. If you can make it this far... you can push a little further, Scrivener Blooms. I'm asking a lot, I know... but I couldn't do it. I failed to do it. But you and Luna Brynhild can do this... we decide who we are. If a 'cross-eyed retard' can turn against a Jötnar and escape his clockwork world... a monster can be a hero, too.
“We can be who we choose to be.” she said quietly, then Visionary bowed her head forwards, shaking herself firmly out, and cloth and metal tore off her body, spilling down as synthetic wing became feathered, as her coat became dapper instead of streaked with blood, the emblem of bubbles appearing on her flank before her eyes opened: golden eyes that looked directly at him before she smiled and closed them. “Just like that.”
It was simple, it was childish, and yet the feeling of reassurance Scrivener felt was incredible as he stared across at her... then smiled faintly as she turned away, whistling a little to herself as he watched her walk off to fade into the darkness, and he thought he heard the welcoming laughter of a filly before he closed his eyes and murmured softly: “Just like that, huh?”
Around him, he felt the memories settling, the silence growing, and his fluttering heart calming... and then he opened his eyes. Tiredness and pain pulsed once through his body before settling into a dull ache as he gazed up at the ceiling, then slowly turned his head to gaze at Scarlet Sage, who was looking down at him silently... before she blinked and almost fell backwards as Scrivener croaked: “You look like crap.”
“Mom! Mom, Dad's awake!” Scarlet Sage shouted hurriedly, and then she threw herself forwards and hugged Scrivener fiercely, burying her face against his neck as a shiver ran through her and she whispered: “Thank the Horses of Heaven. Daddy...”
Scrivener only wheezed little in return, wincing a bit before the door burst open and Luna Brynhild charged in, almost tackling him and making him gargle as shocks of agony ripped through his system, spasming a little on the spot as the winged unicorn buried her face against him and shivered hard, then straightened and slammed her hooves down against his chest, making him howl in agony as she shouted down at him in a frustrated voice even as pain ripped through her own system: “Scrivener Blooms, thou art a blasted idiot!”
And then she trembled hard before dropping against him, tears in her eyes as she clung to him and pushed herself against him, and the earth pony wheezed quietly, slowly reaching a foreleg up to half-wrap around her as he mumbled: “I know. I know.”
“Good.” Luna mumbled, curling herself against him as she clung down to him and Scarlet Sage sat back with a sigh of relief, smiling faintly between her parents.
Scrivener wheezed softly, creakily turning his head towards the doorway before he smiled weakly as he saw Pinkamena leaning against the frame, still dressed in her armor and with her axe across her back as she said calmly: “About time. You were down the rabbit hole for two days this time... I was starting to get worried you were going to come back so crazy they'd have to move you to another section of the mental ward. I don't want to lose a good cellmate.”
“Yes, Pinkamena. It's all about you.” Scrivener said tiredly, but he was smiling all the same before the half-demon strode across the room and reached up to gently touch his shoulder, their gazes locking for a moment before they traded a small nod, and then the the dull-pink pony turned away and returned to her self-appointed guard duty.
After a few minutes, when Luna finally drew away a little, Scrivener felt strong enough to slowly sit up as he rubbed at his chest, grimacing a bit at the sight of the new scars on his body and the bandaging around his form. It felt like quite a few of his bones had been broken, and he shook his head slowly before blushing a bit when Scarlet Sage began to wipe down his face with a wet cloth, muttering: “Hey, I'm okay...”
“You're also still sweating... I think you still have a fever.” Scarlet murmured, and Luna frowned a bit at this before she reached a hoof up and touched Scrivener's forehead. “We've been treating you with some of Zecora's medicine on and off, but it never seemed to help much... and you had a few periods where... you...”
She shook her head slowly, and Scrivener frowned a little before looking across at Luna, who met his eyes almost hesitantly... but then they smiled faintly as they traded emotions and images as crisply and clearly as they had always been able to. Scrivener saw her memories, of him thrashing around, howling, and she saw what he had experienced in his own mind before they both winced a little and dropped their gazes at the same time.
Then Scrivener closed his eyes, muttering: “Two days... at least that means it's almost time for us to head back home. And you know, Luna, that... we'll have to tell Odin about all of this. As much as I don't want to myself...”
“Aye, Scrivener Blooms, I do.” Luna said quietly, and Scarlet Sage frowned, looking uneasily at her mother in surprise at the lack of childishness. Luna, however, only smiled faintly, her eyes flicking towards her daughter before she confirmed her silent question: “It is... very bad news. We are in for... great difficulties...”
“It's more important than ever that we get those anchors up. That we maintain that barrier around the core world so this... Clockwork World doesn't interfere.” Scrivener licked his lips slowly as if tasting the words, and then he grinned bitterly as he rested back against the pillows and the frame of the bed, muttering: “Far too fitting and poetic... I like that name way too much for my own good.”
He rose a hoof, looking moodily down at it as if expecting for a wild moment to see a claw... and then he shook his head slowly, shivering a bit. Images blurred through his mind, runoff of memory and corruption... but then he pushed them away, and he was surprised that they faded with ease. Anxiety and strings of depression still lingered, but he felt himself calming more and more in the presence of his family despite the pain in his body... before he looked up in surprise as Luna smiled faintly and quietly held something up to him, saying softly: “Here.”
Scrivener looked in surprise at the small wool cap... and then he smiled faintly as he reached out and took it between his hooves, pushing his muzzle into it and inhaling the scent as his eyes closed: Antares. Luna smiled back at him, softening as she said quietly: “I must have stowed it in my pack before we left... I was looking through our medical supplies and came across this. It has helped... keep me calm, over these long hours and days... reminded me that despite everything, Scrivy, we are... fortunate, in quite a few ways.
“I...” Luna hesitated, looking away for a moment before she returned her eyes to the male, saying quietly: “I am determined to finish this job Odin has given us. Not because I fear these... Clockwork entities or their machinations, but because I desire to protect my son and my daughter. Even though it seems that... my daughter has done a very good job of protecting and tending to us both.”
Luna smiled faintly across at Scarlet Sage, who blushed and shifted a little before Luna laughed quietly and shook her head slowly, blushing a bit. “Thou hast the deepest thanks and adoration I can give thee, Scarlet Sage. Thou has held up admirably, better by far than I, and... truly, I admire that. Thou hast my thanks, and my deepest, dearest love, sweet daughter.”
Scarlet Sage only blushed and bowed her head... and then Scrivener leaned carefully over, kissing his daughter's forehead softly before he murmured softly: “Thank you, Scarlet Sage. For being... so good to us. For helping take care of me so much while your mother was...” He smiled a little over at her. “Being your mother.”
“Shut up, Scrivy.” Luna said softly, but she gave him a look that was both relieved and warm as she sat back for a moment before glancing over her shoulder and calling mildly: “I love thee too, Pinkamena. Thou art like a dependable little dog.”
“Eat me.” Pinkamena retorted, and then she turned around, looking moodily towards Scrivener and asking flatly: “So are you going to just lay in bed all day with your daughter and your wife? That's both lazy and filthy.”
Scrivener scowled at the half-demon, but she only grinned challengingly in return... and then the stallion sighed, for some reason finding himself unable to simply push away the challenge as he grumbled and carefully began to wiggle to the side, Luna slipping off of the bed and watching with interest even as Scarlet Sage winced and began awkwardly: “Hey, Dad, wait, you really shouldn't-”
“Sometimes we have to run before we can walk.” Scrivener replied mildly, carefully slipping off the bed and then smiling as he managed to stand for a moment. Then his legs wobbled and gave a howl of protest before he flopped forwards onto his face, and Luna threw her head back and laughed as Scrivener grumbled on the ground and Scarlet carefully leaned over the bed with a wince. “Pinkamena, I hate you.”
“Oh, fine, you big goddamn baby.” Pinkamena grumbled, yanking her axe off and tossing it aside before the half-demon strode forwards and yanked Scrivener up to his hooves, and the male blinked before he winced when she tossed him over her back like he was a sack of grain, grunting with the effort but then easily turning and carrying the much larger pony towards the door as the others stared... then Luna flinched when Pinkamena purposefully swayed hard to the side and bashed Scrivener's head against the frame of the door, making him curse in pain and flail weakly. “Oops. My bad.”
“I hate you so much sometimes.” Scrivener mumbled, and then he frowned dumbly as he realized they were walking down the halls of Canterlot, looking stupidly back and forth before he said lamely, as Luna and Scarlet Sage hurried after the half-demon and her stallion cargo: “We're not in the tower anymore.”
“Wow, Scrivener Blooms, those powers of observation must have really helped you score chicks.” Pinkamena said dryly, and Scrivener grumbled under his breath before glaring at Luna when she giggled, then coughed violently to try and hide it.
“'Twas a good retort!” Luna said finally as he continued to glare at her, and then she huffed at him before turning her eyes to the half-demon as they strode past several staring ponies. “So where are we headed, Pinkamena?”
The half-demon only grunted in response, then Scrivener looked up and added moodily: “I should probably point out that even you carrying me is making me tired at this point and time, so... let's not go anywhere that requires too much physical exertion, okay?”
Pinkamena snorted at this, muttering: “Giant goddamn pansy. You know, when I was a filly, a rock once fell out of a hole in the silo and landed on me. I shrugged it off and kept working. Didn't go crying to anypony about it, either.”
“Did it land on your head? That would explain a lot.” Scrivener muttered, and then he wheezed when Pinkamena firmly bucked herself upwards, making his body flex as his ribs gave a groan of protest. “Okay, okay, point taken.”
The half-demon grunted, then she grumbled a little under her breath when Scarlet Sage said hesitantly: “We really shouldn't stress Dad out too much, though... he's in pretty bad shape, Pinkamena. We've barely been able to get water and medicine into him over these last few days and his body's been healing very slowly...”
“Yeah, but he's awake now, meaning he's better. Shut up, I know what I'm doing.” Pinkamena retorted, and Luna shrugged a little as Scarlet Sage only looked apprehensive. After a few minutes, however, Luna's mood brightened visibly as she realized they were at Princess Luna's quarters, the half-demon simply barging through the doors, then heading for the bathing room.
She tossed Scrivener unceremoniously into the enormous, empty tub, making him groan in pain as he landed heavily, and Luna's own body shivered with the rattle of shock and nausea that ran through her before she glared at the half-demon even as Pinkamena began to turn on the various taps, muttering: “Oh, shut up. He's not a fragile little flower, he's a giant, apparently-unbreakable idiot. I ain't gonna be gentle just because it's the nice thing to do.”
As the tub slowly began to fill with hot water, Scrivener winced at first, several of the looser bandages lifting free from his body and the water stinging his wounds and making his skin ache... but by the time it had filled to his shoulders, the stallion was sitting back against the wall of the tub, looking relieved and smiling a little to himself as he closed his eyes, his tense and aching muscles soothed from the liquid heat.
Scarlet Sage left to find something for Scrivener to eat and inform the Princesses that he was back on his hooves, and Luna joined Scrivy in the tub, happy to help wash and massage away his pain and frustration. Then both she and Scrivener slowly looked to the side at another sound to see that Pinkamena had discarded her armor and joined them as well, and she favored them with a wide grin as they both simply stared at her, before saying mildly: “Hi.”
“Get thee gone, half-demon! The bath is good, aye, and 'tis a nice thought, but neither Scrivener nor I are in any mood!” Luna snapped, pointing at the doorway, but Pinkamena only snorted and splashed them both, the winged unicorn glowering. “Oh, thou art begging to be pummeled.”
“Oh, shut up. I'm on lifeguard duty.” Pinkamena easily pushed herself away along the wall, leaning moodily back against the side of the tub before she sniffed disdainfully. “Besides. I don't mind dirt and sweat and blood, but sometimes you need to clean up and start fresh. Can't get dirty, sweaty, and bloody if you're already covered in a layer of muck.”
Scrivener and Luna both simply scowled at her, and Pinkamena glanced moodily down at a hoof, looking back and forth over it before she asked quietly: “So that monster... it wasn't a demon or anything, was it?”
“It wasn't even a monster, Pinkamena. Visionary... she was the opposite of a monster.” Scrivener said quietly, glancing down, and Pinkamena looked up at him thoughtfully, then gestured for him to go on, and he shook his head with a soft sigh before continuing quietly: “She was a... a Clockwork Pony. Valthrudnir apparently warped a world into serving him for some reason... maybe as... some kind of prototype for the universe he wanted to create. Maybe just as a sick joke, because that's how little life mattered to him...”
Pinkamena grimaced at this, sliding moodily down in the water, and her expression remained serious as she narrowed her eyes. “So there are more of them... a lot more, sounds like.”
“Yeah, and it's where those shapeshifters are coming from, too... where that meteor came from as well. It was a probe... some... lackey or something of Valthrudnir's, something maybe trying to emulate him now that he's gone, called the Prophet, is looking for us. For me and Luna.” Scrivener said quietly, looking silently over at her. “That explains those Tyrant Wyrms we found in the forest, among other things, too. It's all piecing together now and I don't like how much of all this is starting to seem like it's all... connected.”
Pinkamena snorted at this, then she ducked under the water for a moment before surfacing, flicking her soaked mane back out of her faces and rubbing her hooves firmly against her face. There was quiet except for the sound of splashing water for a moment, and then the half-demon snorted and looked up, saying moodily: “So I'm guessing that we're going to have a whole lot of things to kill in the near future, aren't we?”
“In the future, aye, but I'd prefer further away than nearer to us.” Luna muttered, shaking her head grimly. “If Visionary was a failed experiment that rebelled against Valthrudnir, I do not wish to imagine what the other Clockwork entities will be like... or what other soldiers and weapons may lurk in that horrible world my husband has caught a glimpse of.”
“Lucky him. Lucky us.” Pinkamena grumbled, and then she sighed a little even as Scrivener glowered at her. “Oh, screw you, I'm being serious. Think about it, idiot: if we didn't have any idea of what we were going up against, how long would we last against this Clockwork world of Valthrudnir's if it's filled with so much danger?”
“That may be true, but all the same it's not exactly something I like to think about. And Visionary... hinted at something.” Scrivener rubbed slowly at his face, grimacing a little. “That this... seeing, this 'gift' she gave me... she gave it to me for a reason.”
“Are you the chosen one?” Pinkamena asked mockingly, and Scrivener couldn't help but laugh and shake his head slowly as even Luna smiled a little in spite of herself. “If you are, I think I'll just kill myself right here and now. You'd make a lousy savior.”
“You know, I actually agree with you on that point.” Scrivener said dryly, and the half-demon snorted in entertainment before the male shook his head slowly, giving a soft sigh. “But I guess we're going to have to just... figure out a way to push forwards, one way or the other. Deal with things as they come, and hope that the worst things we continue to see are Drones and Hobby Horses.”
The half-demon cocked her head, and Scrivener grimaced and reached up, knocking a hoof against his temple. “I've got all kinds of random information in my skull now. It's like... with the Tyrant Wyrm. I think that's why she chose me, why she was able to make me... make me see. It's like I'm not just seeing under the masks anymore, Pinkamena, it's like... I'm catching a deeper glimpse. It's like her spirit passed through me when she died, and I tasted her life...”
Pinkamena snorted at this, leaning back and grinning wryly. “Now that is weird even for me, and I've been way down south. So tell me, Nightmare Moon, what do you think of this whole pretty mess? Are you as excited as I am? Or are you as scared as your wife?”
Scrivener looked moodily at the half-demon as Luna gave a small smile, but then she only sighed and shook her head slowly, murmuring quietly: “Both, Pinkamena, and I know not which disturbs me more. I am... disgusted and horrified as well, that still pieces of Valthrudnir's plans remain, that still his gears continue to turn... and it makes me wonder if we can ever fully defeat him, even now that he is dead and gone. But how many years did he have to begin his designs? How many plans did he put in motion? And how many of them lay dormant, only waiting to be awakened... or like this ticking Clockwork World, have awoken to seek vengeance upon us or continue his diabolical scheming?”
Pinkamena only grunted moodily, and there was silence as they simply rested back in the tub until Luna finally began to gently tend to her husband, quietly washing out his mane as Pinkamena only watched them quietly. She seemed to take a strange interest, and almost a calm sort of pleasure in just staring at the two... but before Scrivener could become too uncomfortable under the half-demon's cryptic gaze, they were interrupted as Scarlet Sage cleared her throat and stepped into the bathing room, smiling a little. “I just wanted to let you two know that lunch is being prepared, and the Princesses are eager to talk. No rush, they wanted me to make sure you knew that, but... they are pretty anxious.”
“I cannot blame them... we have all received some rather distressing news, after all.” Luna muttered, and then she sighed softly before nodding grumpily, turning her eyes towards Scrivener Blooms, but he only smiled a little. “Alright, beetle. If thou art sure... Pinkamena, will thou be joining us as well?”
“Yeah, it'll be entertaining to watch them panicking over everything.” the half-demon grinned wryly, and Scarlet Sage sighed a little before looking surprised as Pinkamena added mildly over her shoulder: “Kid, you should link up to your Dad again, now that his brain's settled. Lot of worries in there. Plus I'm curious... you got a knack for telling a prophecy and telling it right. I wanna know if our chosen one is going to live or die... because while you'd be a crappy savior, Scrivener Blooms, you'd make a damn good martyr.”
“You're one to talk.” Scrivener said softly, and Pinkamena fluttered her eyes at him in response with a mocking smile, but she seemed oddly touched before she turned and crawled out of the tub, shaking herself briskly off and making Scarlet Sage wince and stagger away from the scattering water.
Then the half-demon simply began to pull on her armor, and Luna winced at this, saying with a wince: “Pinkamena, no, thou must dry off first or-”
“Stuff it.” Pinkamena interrupted rudely, and Luna glowered at her horribly as the half-demon muttered: “Stupid goddamn Nightmare Moon. I know what I'm doing. And I don't got no soft pansy skin like you and your husband and way more body heat.”
“'Tis no excuse to ignore... oh, fine, what do I care. I hope thy entire body rashes and thy armor grows fungus. In fact, I hope that thou grows fungus.” Luna said moodily, and Pinkamena snorted and grinned in response.
“Bet you know all about that, don't you? Might have taken you forever to have the little tumor but sure as hell wasn't for lack of trying, after all.” Pinkamena muttered, and Luna and Scrivener both glared at her as Scarlet Sage winced. “And the way you act sure goes to show you ain't all that selective, either.”
Luna ground her teeth loudly together, and then she grumbled under her breath before turning to climb out of the tub, saying grouchily: “One day, half-demon, thou shall push me too far. And upon that day I shall give thee such a beating that it will humble even thee.”
“Promises, promises. I only hope it doesn't make poor Scrivener jealous.” Pinkamena retorted, and Luna grumbled under her breath as the stallion sighed, looking moodily at the ceiling and wondering if the mares would forget about him and leave if he just sat quietly in the warm water.
He had no such luck, however, as Luna half-dragged him up out of the tub. Then she dried him off, grumbling the entire time as Pinkamena and Scarlet Sage had gone on ahead, and Scrivener had mumbled to himself, feeling a little like a foal... but then again, it was better than being pummeled, and Luna was honestly trying her hardest to help even as she muttered under her breath and complained about how water should dry itself.
His eyes settled on the black pearl around her neck, gleaming quietly, and he smiled a little at the memories that flooded back and made him feel stronger, in a way. Then again, even that had been a misadventure where Luna had come in at the last moment to save the day... but somehow, that was what made it all the better in his eyes. He laughed to himself, and then blushed awkwardly when Luna looked up at him curiously before she caught the memories in her own mind, and smiled softly as she reached up, touching the silver collar Scrivener hadn't even realized was still around his own neck as she said quietly: “Aye, much more interesting than mine. I threatened the Strange Ones into giving this to me in front of thee. Thou ran afoul of the Seahorse Drakes. 'Tis funny... shouldn't it be reversed? Thou, poet, should have been the one to buy a pretty thing from traders for me... I should have been the one to break into the lair of monsters and rob their stash of treasure.”
“Yeah, but you probably would have stolen from dragons or something.” Scrivener smiled a little, adding quietly: “Pummeled them, too, I'm sure.”
“Aye.” Luna nodded thoughtfully, and then she smiled a little before saying quietly: “We should give something to Little Luna and perhaps Nice Celestia before we leave, Scrivener Blooms. I think that would be a nice gesture, does thou not agree?”
Scrivener snorted in amusement, and then rolled his shoulders before starting towards the doorway... and even though it ached to walk, as he moved, he could feel his muscles limbering out and his body slowly adjusting. “Maybe, Luna... but we already have done a lot here. And we gave them Chrysalis and all... we don't want to insult their dignity, now.”
“Oh, whoever believes that giving a friendly gift is an insult to one's dignity has received either too few or too many gifts over their life.” Luna huffed, shaking her head quickly before she softened, looking over Scrivener as they headed into the halls of regal Canterlot Castle. “Scrivener, art thou sure thou art alright? I am sure it is no problem to delay this small meeting... they were concerned for thee, and I do not believe it was simply because they feared what a creature like Visionary could do to their home with what it did to thee.”
Scrivener only smiled a little at this, however, shaking his head slowly before he replied in a soft murmur: “I'm fine, Luna. It's no worse than some of the other beatings I've received in my life, honestly... and the corruption is... I dunno. I feel more in control now that I'm through that... darkness, that pain. I dunno what she did to me exactly, I don't know how this new... 'sight' she gave me works... I only know that my body hurts but for once I feel level-headed. And that it's a very nice change from normal.”
Luna nodded slowly, looking over him apprehensively before they continued on in quiet, trading looks and the occasional thought and memory, but not needing even that: being in one-another's presence alone, both awake, able to gently bump together as they walked along... it was more than enough to help them both feel much better about things.
It didn't take them long to reach the dining area: Luna had been here several times over the last few days, after all, to meet with the Princesses and pick at meals. It was a nice, private little dinner area, with a table large enough for a few guests and comfortable seats, a short corridor providing easy access to the nearby kitchens. Food had already been laid out, and Pinkamena was moodily poking at her salad as Scarlet Sage sat politely back, waiting for her parents and smiling when they pushed in through the door.
The Princesses both stood, smiling as Scrivener blushed a little and Luna half-bulled him onwards until they reached the table, Princess Celestia saying kindly: “It's a relief to see you up on your hooves, Scrivener Blooms. We were all quite worried about you.”
“Yes, with what happened... we were afraid...” Princess Luna broke off, and then she shook her head and smiled awkwardly as she and her sister both sat back down as Luna Brynhild and Scrivener Blooms sat themselves. “Can we get you anything? Are you in much pain?”
“No, I'm alright.” Scrivener replied quietly, smiling a little and reaching up to rub slowly at his chest, saying softly: “Now that I'm out of the... nightmares... I'm sure I'll be back in good shape soon enough. Besides, Luna and I have already encroached on your hospitality quite a bit.”
Celestia only laughed quietly at this, however, shaking her head and replying gently: “Not at all. You've done quite a lot for us... for both of us. And of course, if you prefer, we can leave talking about what happened until later...”
“No, no. It's alright.” Scrivener replied softly, shaking his head and giving a small smile as he closed his eyes. “Better to get it out of the way, anyway. But if you don't mind, I think I would like to eat a little first and ease into the topic.”
“Of course.” Celestia responded cordially, and then she smiled a little as she said softly: “My sister and I would like do something nice for yourself and your wife, though. Something fitting, but we're not sure... quite what that could be. You're very different ponies than we are, after all, and neither of us wish to insult you, but we are extremely grateful for all your kindness and cannot begin to express our appreciation for all you've done...”
“It has been... amazing to see...” Princess Luna hesitated, blushing a little as she looked quietly at Luna Brynhild, who only smiled softly in return before the Princess of the Night hurriedly changed the topic: “That black pearl is very beautiful. Where did you get it?”
Luna grinned widely at this, puffing up visibly as she held up the necklace and said kindly: “Aye, I was hoping thou would notice! This, my black pearl, 'twas a gift from my husband. We were just talking about it as a matter of fact... how the foolish poet tried to steal from the Seahorse Drakes in the deepest reaches of the Everfree Forest, and I had to go in and save him. He only managed to retrieve this one pearl, and broke it... but it broke almost perfectly in the shape of the rose, his emblem... his cutie mark, as thou calls it. It is a lovely story.”
Pinkamena snorted at this, poking at a slice of tomato and commenting moodily: “You're supposed to wait for the other person to fake being impressed and say that, Nightmare Moon. It's like you don't know anything about being social at all.”
“And thou art really one to talk.” Luna Brynhild retorted, as the sisters shifted awkwardly. “And that is salad, Pinkamena. It is what normal ponies eat. The tomatoes are not red because of blood so thou can cease stabbing it.”
“I know what it is.” Pinkamena said crossly, glaring across at Luna Brynhild before she turned her eyes moodily towards the Princesses. “How the hell did you two ever get in power here? I look around, and everything's so goddamn soft and fragile. No wonder Chrysalis was bending you all over her knee.”
Celestia frowned a little as Princess Luna looked less-than-thrilled, and Scrivener and Scarlet Sage both winced a bit before before the Princess of the Sun replied courteously: “My sister and I were chosen by the nation to lead... and one day, we will both pass on our crowns to a successor who will rule Equestria as it has always been: as a land of prosperity and plenty for our people, a place safe from-”
“Yes. Wow. This answers so many questions. You're much lamer at sidestepping than Princess Sunshine back home.” Pinkamena retorted, poking at a cucumber now before she grumbled and shoved her plate away, looking vindictively over the Princesses. “You two smell funny to me, you know that? No I don't mean literally, don't give me that look. Just seems like something doesn't add up to me. You're too nice. You're too sweet. What skeletons do you have in your closets? Because what I'm worried about is the idea that you don't have any regrets, you don't have any sins on your shoulders, and this country really was stupid enough to put you in charge all those years ago simply because you're so 'nice...' saints make easy targets to bleed dry.”
Princess Celestia only smiled faintly at this, however, saying quietly: “Do you really think anypony can live a thousand years without making regrets? That is how long Equestria has known me... but I have lived much longer than that, Pinkamena. I have made many mistakes... I have many regrets. I will not be so bold as to claim that I likely have as many as the Celestia in the other world, but... I have my fair share, all the same.”
Pinkamena snorted at this, then rubbed slowly at her face as Princess Luna added quietly: “And I was Nightmare Moon. Overcome by jealousy and anger and... darkness...”
She shook her head slowly, and then hesitated before looking over at Luna Brynhild, adding softly: “But I cannot imagine how you... became Nightmare Moon yourself. For me, it was childish, it was... stupid, really. I was weak, but you're so... so strong.”
“Nay, I am not. Well, physically, aye.” Luna Brynhild grinned widely, winking as she said cheerfully: “In a fight I would make thee both feel like little foals attempting to quell a dragon, most certainly. I would pummel thee into the ground. I would... Pinkamena, what is the term? I would 'bitch-slap' them, correct?”
“Yep.” Pinkamena grinned despite herself in agreement, and the Princesses both looked sourly at the half-demon, making her snort. “Hey, she said it, not me.”
Scarlet Sage and Scrivener Blooms both looked grumpily at Luna Brynhild as she opened her mouth, and the warrior winged unicorn huffed a little before becoming more serious when she turned her eyes back to the ponies, continuing in a quieter voice: “But all the same... to be powerful in the ways I am does not mean I am not weak in other ways. For oh yes. I resented my big sister...” She smiled faintly, closing her eyes. “It did not help that... I had always looked up to her so much. I had always striven to impress her, to... to be worthy in her eyes. And she had eyes only for her plans and her nation... and the nation had eyes only for her. I did not want to be a preening princess... no offense to thee, of course, but... I am not a princess. I am a warrior. I am a Valkyrie.”
She looked up, nodding firmly once before sitting back and continuing quietly: “A former lover, named Ignominious, sent a demon to me one night. It possessed me while I brooded, not even realizing until too late what was happening. And because of my rage, my sorrow, and my hatred... the moment it slipped into my mind, it took control. It was too late for me to fight, to resist, even if resist I tried, but... I could not withstand it. 'Twas too strong... it took me over, and I blasted my way out of the castle.”
Luna and Luna looked at one another silently, mirroring almost perfectly in that instant before Luna Brynhild smiled wryly, gazing quietly towards Princess Celestia, who was gazing at her intently. “I spread darkness through the land, then came back to fight my big sister. And whilst I was powerful, and all the stronger in the form of Nightmare Moon, controlled and driven by passion... I was animal, and stupid. Celestia was well-prepared, and waited behind thick layers of defense and guardians. By the time I reached her, my strength had diminished... and she toyed with me, and then ensnared me, and swatted me as one would swat a pesky fly. Defeated, broken, and beaten, she did not hesitate to banish me to the moon.”
Princess Celestia looked uncomfortable, gazing down silently, and Princess Luna shifted slowly before Luna Brynhild laughed softly and murmured: “I do love my big sister. And she has tried valiantly to mend her ways, fear not... she is no longer the terrifying, cold-minded scorpion she once was. But not all my story of her was hyperbole and exaggeration: there was plenty there that was true, in one form or another. And while I am strong, I think often that in all likelihood my sister is stronger still. In mind, in magic, perhaps even in body.”
Scrivener gazed across at her softly, and Luna Brynhild smiled faintly across at her husband before she leaned over and buried her face against the side of his neck. And for a little while, there was quiet, Scarlet Sage, the Princesses, and Scrivener picking at their food and eating slowly as Luna Brynhild simply rested against the stallion and Pinkamena simply looked back and forth around the table, inspecting them as if listening to conversations hidden in the silence.
Finally, Scrivener Blooms cleared his throat quietly as he looked up, saying quietly: “The food is good, thank you. It's nice to have something in my stomach. And if you want, I'm more than willing to answer any questions you have.”
“Well... my first and main concern, Scrivener Blooms, is whether or not we should expect more of these... things.” Princess Celestia shivered a little, closing her eyes and shaking her head slowly. “The things done to that poor Pegasus' body... they were awful.”
“To be honest...” Scrivener hesitated for a moment, then he looked up and said finally: “I don't think you or your sister will have to worry about Clockwork World, especially once we're gone. The Prophet's concern is with us. Considering how her servants all seem drawn to us... I don't think they'll cause any trouble here. But if they do show up... I hate to say this, but...”
“Tell them the truth about us. Don't try to fight them.” Pinkamena said calmly, and Scrivener looked over at her with a slight smile, the Princesses both gazing with surprise before the half-demon grinned. “You pathetic bunch of mice couldn't even handle the Changelings. Scrivener might be a pansy but if that Clockwork Pony cleaned his... well, 'clock' seems both ironic and fitting... believe me, your prissy little soldier-boys won't be able to do a thing against them either. If they're after us, let them come after us. Don't piss 'em off. That's our job. You stick to your job... cleaning up after your own goddamn messes and either squishing that bug you got down there in jail or putting her in a jar.”
“Thank you, Pinkamena, you're as eloquent as I was at my finest.” Scrivener said wryly, and the half-demon replied by blowing a raspberry at him. Then the stallion nodded slowly, turning his eyes towards the Princesses as he confirmed quietly: “Just what she says, though. But I don't think they'll show up here... they already sent... some nasty scouts ahead to our world. To threaten and antagonize us. Their interest is in us, and I... I get this feeling that when we leave this layer of reality, Prophet will know.”
Scrivener nodded slowly, looking down as Luna Brynhild grunted and sat up a bit, her own eyes roving to the Princesses as she said softly: “This is our job, our duty and our privilege, my friends. It is not betrayal, fear not... it is more...” She paused thoughtfully, then grinned slightly. “'Tis more like asking thee to pass on a message, and issuing forth a challenge to our aggressors. If they desire battle, after all, I shall be more than pleased to give them exactly that.”
The Princesses traded a look, and then the younger sibling shrugged, and Celestia finally nodded reluctantly before she turned her eyes to the two, saying softly: “I don't quite like it, but I won't argue, either. I'm tempted to bring up the Elements of Harmony...”
“Oh, aye, that would work wondrously, I am sure.” Luna Brynhild said drolly, rolling her eyes, and Celestia grimaced a little before Scrivener gave his wife a pointed look, and she sighed and relented a little, mumbling: “Oh very well. It is... I understand where thou art coming from, Princess Celestia, most certainly, but all the same... the Elements are not the answer to every crisis and every problem. And furthermore, these creatures are monstrous, but... well...”
She looked silently towards Scrivener, who smiled a little as he said quietly: “They're terrible, but that's partly because... the Clockwork World is a form of penultimate order. Everything there has a purpose, has a reason, and things like... emotions and everything else, they're weeded out. Valthrudnir wanted to build a universe of ultimate order. He wanted to build a universe where everything followed set rhythms and schedules, where there was nothing but... clanking gears and endless machinations. The Elements of Harmony... as terrifying as I'm sure it is, they might not have any effect on these creatures. They might just piss them off.”
Celestia nodded grimly, looking down at this before she finally glanced up, asking before she could stop herself: “So in your world... the Elements are bad?”
“Nay, they were simply used for... bad ends.” Luna replied softly, closing her eyes with a faint smile before she sighed a little and added moodily: “Well, except when they were used against the beast Fafnir... that monster deserved to be turned to stone and blown apart. And I would kill it again... if the damnable thing could be killed, that is.”
“I don't know whether your world scares me or enthralls me, with the things you hint at.” Princess Luna said softly, and Pinkamena snorted in amusement at this before the half-demon looked up in surprise as the Princess of the Night asked curiously: “Are there... many ponies like you there, Pinkamena?”
The half-demon only grumbled in response, looking moodily away and crossing her forelegs, and there was a moment of awkward silence before Princess Celestia looked down at her half-eaten meal, then smiled a little and glanced up, saying finally: “Perhaps for now we should go, little sister, and let our friends rest. Tomorrow, we can talk more, after a good night's rest and we've all... had time to digest this new information.”
Scrivener nodded in agreement, and Scarlet Sage looked up with a shy smile as the Princesses climbed to their hooves. The Princess of the Night lingered for a moment, however, glancing over her shoulder, studying Luna for a few long moments before she shook her head and hurried after her elder sibling, and the male couldn't help but smile before he glanced at his wife. “I think you've got an admirer.”
“Let us find out if she will sleep with us.” Luna said cheerfully, and Scrivener looked at her for a moment, then rose a hoof, and Luna grinned at him challengingly... before the male firmly punched himself in the ribs, and both he and his soul-bound soulmate wheezed in pain and clutched at their chests as she rasped: “Masochist!”
“It's worth it when you hurt too.” Scrivener wheezed, and Scarlet Sage sighed as Pinkamena snorted in amusement. But the feeling around the table was mainly relief, even as Scrivener and Luna glared at each other: despite everything, after all, it felt like things were slowly getting back to normal... or what was normal for the odd little family, at least.