//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: Shattered Pentacle 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Lyra did not like to dream. When she slept, the blood returned—the screams. Time mattered little in the domain of memory.
In her mind, she still craved. She still tasted the sickly sweet of blood, dribbled out just fast enough to keep her obedient. The strange power of that blood left her body unscarred by all she suffered under the old dockyard. But the damage to her mind—that healed slower.
When those wounds were still fresh, she dreamed only of need, of terrible things those horrors demanded of her. But now, sometimes—things were different.
Now instead of the torment of the endless, blurring days, Lyra relived the last. Exploding wood, gunfire, and light more powerful than the sun. Her master’s demand, overflowing with a fear she had never heard from the thing that called himself Ventus.
“Protect your home!” he bellowed. His words compelled, as they always had. Lyra felt the Uzi in her fingers, clicking off the safety. But instead of rushing out into the hail of bullets to die like all the others, she turned it on Ventus.
Blood dribbled down a tower in a vast jungle, its canopy so dense no light reached the ground. Instead of drinking it, she scattered it over the floor, watering the warehouse basement and the jungle all in one.
Then came the sun. She jerked upright, her fingers contracting around a trigger that wasn’t there. She felt silk sheets instead, and a face almost as soft looking back at her. 
Bonnie already had an eye open. She reached across the warm space, sliding her hand down Lyra’s shoulder. Her touch was gentle, a reassuring reminder that she wasn’t alone. “Nightmares again?”
She nodded weakly. Instead of moving away, she rested up against Bonnie’s arm. “Dreams, anyway. It’s not so bad now that I don’t wake up craving.”
Her girlfriend slid closer to her in bed, resting Lyra’s head against her chest. She held her there for a little while—not long enough. But the morning sun outside glowed with its constant reminder that the day would not wait forever. 
But a few more minutes, surrounded by soft sheets and the touch of someone who had never hurt her—that was peace.
Eventually Bonnie sat up against the headboard, pulling Lyra along with her. “You better have plans for the weekend. I don’t want you spending the next few days locked up in here, alone.”
Lyra nodded. “It’s karaoke night at Azucar3. The girls and I planned to go. Since you won’t let me go on your trip.”
Her girlfriend nodded with relief. “That’s good. As long as you’re not in here all weekend.”
Lyra shrugged, then rolled out of bed. Her feet settled weakly under her, but held. “I like having some time alone. But not the whole weekend.”
They got ready, stumbling together between the shower and the kitchen, not always in that order.
Lyra felt a little better with her morning tea in hand, and a plate of toast and eggs. Her girlfriend wasn’t particularly good at cooking anything that wasn’t sweet, but at least none of it burned. Plain, simple, filling.
It was the thought that mattered most. Lyra flicked through her notebook of music lessons for that morning, scratching her ideas next to the name of each student. “What about you?” she asked. “The whole weekend this time? Anything I should be worried about?”
Bonnie looked away from her. “I would say if I could. It’s—”
“Classified,” Lyra finished lamely. “You honestly can’t tell me anything? I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Bonnie stood from her seat, turning towards the window. “I trust you, Lyra. But without a security clearance—it’s just better if you don’t know. Safer for you, safer for everyone.”
“But you would warn me if something was wrong, right? If there was danger...”
Her girlfriend passed something heavy across the table to her, her purse. Most of that space was empty, a little wallet, some makeup and feminine products. All that weight came from the hefty metal object buried at the bottom. “You have the gun I gave you while I’m gone. You remember how to shoot it?”
Lyra slipped the purse over her shoulder, then stood. “I remember.”
“You only get the one shot if—”
Lyra stuck a piece of toast into her mouth, silencing her. “I’m pretty sure I know vampires better than you do. I’m not going to stick around and see. One shot and I run, like you said.”
Bonnie chewed, then tossed the slice away into the sink. She caught Lyra’s elbow with her other arm, pulling her in close. “Ponyville is pretty quiet right now. Canterlot—not so much. If you’re alone, be here. Okay?”
“Love you too.” Lyra kissed her cheek, light and sharp. “You think you can tell me about what it was you’re hunting, when you get the kill? Can’t hurt after it’s already dead.”
Bonnie met her eyes. For a few seconds, Lyra expected another sharp rebuff, another reminder of the restrictions her girlfriend always obeyed. But Bonnie stretched up to her tiptoes, high enough to whisper into Lyra’s ear. “Wizards.”
She slipped away, easily pulling free of Lyra’s grip. “See you Sunday night, sweetie.”
“You’re Sweetie,” she shot back, almost by reflex.
Her girlfriend winked, stuck out her tongue, then vanished into the garage.
I should get going too. Shouldn‘t keep my ride waiting.

She met Akiko a few minutes later, waiting in her driveway. Lyra nodded to her, then slipped into the passenger seat. “Good morning.”
“Morning, anyway,” Akiko answered. “How are you feeling?” She never touched the controls, yet the audiobook faded anyway. She must’ve had something in her pocket.
Lyra slid her little notebook out, finger gliding over her notes. They were all a mess, scribbled over each other in a confused tangle. Every student had a page, marked with different colored dividers. “Dunno, Akiko. Want the quick version or the truth?”
Her old friend pulled onto the highway, then they were accelerating. “We’ve known each other since we were girls, Lyra. Who else would you tell?”
Not exactly an answer. She snapped the little notebook closed. “When I’m really bored sometimes I take a violin into the city zoo. Tim lets me do it—the security guard?”
“Yeah.” Akiko nodded, suddenly paying attention. “He would. Not sure where this is going. You’re already with—”
Lyra interrupted. “I play for the animals. Whatever exhibit doesn’t have anyone right then. Most of them don’t really care—but some of the mammals, you can tell they’re listening, you know? Chimpanzees come right up to the cage, start tapping along. Or the deer all leave their food behind to run in circles right in front of me.”
She stopped her finger on one page near the back—Isabelle’s lesson, her first for the day. She hadn’t added anything to her page in weeks. Despite her talent for music, she wasn’t any better at the piano than she had been back in January.
Akiko glanced sidelong at her—or maybe she was just checking her blind spots before pulling off on Canterlot’s main street exit. “Not sure how this is supposed to tell me what’s bothering you, Harper.”
She shrugged. “There’s nothing quite like music in their world. But they still listen. They look at me, and I can feel what they’re thinking—this glimpse. They don’t understand what they’re hearing, but they realize it’s bigger than anything in their universe. They could never reproduce what I’m doing, not in a thousand years. But there’s still enough in there for them to feel what they’re missing and want more.”
She stuck the little notebook back into her pocket, adjusting the purse on her shoulder. “That’s where I’m at.”
Akiko jerked to a stop, so suddenly that Lyra’s seatbelt went painfully tight against her chest. It was a red light, right at the end of the exit. “What changed?” Akiko asked. The audiobook was silent now, her car quiet except for the gentle idling of the engine. “Did Terri give you another lecture about crystals? It was the crystals, wasn’t it?”
Lyra laughed in spite of herself. Not loudly. “No. I guess it might seem... similar. But music isn’t just pleasant, it’s true. Maybe that doesn’t make a lot of sense. But there’s math behind it—some sounds are nice to listen to, and others aren’t. Doesn’t matter what culture you’re from, or even what species. It would be nice if you could just stick a rock in your pocket to fix all your problems, but—no. Not that.”
They were already reaching the music store, across from central park. Akiko wasn’t watching the road very closely anymore. If Lyra didn’t know better, she almost would’ve thought her friend was muttering something under her breath.
But no, she wasn’t crazy. Not that crazy, anyway. But the way she gasped, taking her fingers off the wheel—Lyra might have to revise her opinion. Granted, they weren’t moving. Not until someone behind them started laying on the horn, and Akiko finally went back to driving.
She sped off, swerving across a few lanes, before sliding into the music store parking lot. “You feel like you were asleep,” she whispered. “Not just for a little while, but your whole life—so deep you didn’t even realize it. Until one day, you did.” Akiko rested one hand on her shoulder, her grip uncharacteristically firm. “I could show you, if you want. Help you hear the music.”
Of everything Akiko might have told her—that wasn’t what she was supposed to say. It might be easier if her friend had told her she was insane. “I thought you were supposed to ground me.” 
It was Akiko’s turn to laugh. “We both know that’s your girlfriend’s job. Besides, the world has enough lies without creating any more.”
Like the Masquerade. Lyra jerked away from her, stumbling out into the parking lot. “Thanks for the ride, Akiko. Lifesaver as always. Sweetie’s grateful too, even if she’ll never admit it. She’s not big on sharing. But I know she is.”
She shoved the door closed, then backed up. Tabitha’s car was already waiting in the lot. Isabelle might be sitting in their lesson room.
Akiko rolled down her window, returning her hand to the wheel. “You’re still coming to karaoke tonight, right? I know the girls are counting on you. We need someone who can sing.”
She nodded halfheartedly. “Wouldn’t miss it!”
“Good.” Akiko pulled into reverse, rolling past her. “What you’re feeling is true, Lyra. Follow it.” She rolled out onto the road. Not far—Lyra could see Akiko’s little tea shop from the sidewalk.
She stood there in silent confusion for another minute, before hurrying through the parking lot and into Rainbow Rocks.
Octavia whistled as Lyra entered, voice harsh and annoyed. She gestured to the wall clock without a word. Two minutes past the hour.
Lyra nodded apologetically, scooping up her basket of supplies from beside the counter, then skipping through the store to the row of identical, soundproof rooms.
Sure enough, Isabelle was already sitting in hers. Not at the piano, or even near it. Lyra could only wince, slipping inside. “Morning, Izzy. I hope you’ve been practicing!” 
At least the teen had the courtesy to tuck her phone down her shirt. “Yeah. A little, I guess. Not as much as you want me to.”
She got up, shuffling towards the piano. This time, Lyra stopped her, holding the basket in her way. She sat down on the bench herself, facing backward. “We’ll do something a little different today. Take out those scales... but I’ll play them. You’re going to sing along, okay?”
Isabelle lowered one hand from her pink and purple curls, expression suddenly intense. “My sister didn’t want me singing here. I’m supposed to be... learning the fundamentals or whatever.”
Lyra spun around. “Sit down next to me. I’ll play, you can pretend, and you’ll sing along instead. Let’s start with our major scales. Okay?”
One lesson blurred into another, the same as every day. Lyra put aside her own fears for a little while, focused on the needs of each individual student. Some needed time to focus on their fundamentals, while others were preparing for the next recital. Either way, having her attention on someone else meant her anxiety could fade.
If Bonnie would tell me more, maybe I would understand a little better. But Bonnie never did—she had only defied her orders once, when she saved Lyra’s life. No other ghoul walked out of that warehouse.
Lunchtime came and went, and it was time to work the floor, selling instruments and restocking the shelves. It was far more mindless than her morning lessons, leaving her free to wander. When there was no one around to help, she was alone with her thoughts. What monster would “Sweetie Drops” be hunting this weekend? Would she be hurt again?
Maybe this time it was just more training, or dull paperwork. Maybe she wouldn’t come home with fresh scars. Or maybe she would, and this time Lyra would be strong enough to help her, instead of the other way around.
“I believe that about does it for the evening.” Octavia tapped her polished nails on the counter, surveying the store. Dusted, swept, and stocked, thanks to Lyra. “Don’t think this excuses tardiness, Miss Harper. Our students expect the lesson they pay for. If you’re late to start—”
“Then I’m late to the next one,” she finished. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t keep anyone waiting on Monday.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” Octavia reached under the counter, removing Lyra’s purse from where it had been resting through the day. “Enjoy your weekend. Will you be waiting here for your ride?”
“Nah. Bonnie is out for the weekend. Thanks though.” She waved, then slipped out the door.
The streetlights were already on, though the sun hadn’t set yet. It might be a perfect night in the city, if there wasn’t smoke on the horizon.
Lyra broke into a jog, clutching the purse to her side. She didn’t reach inside yet, despite her growing fear. Maybe it was a scheduled burn, or a barbeque out of control. Her worst fears couldn’t manifest yet, not while the sun was still in the sky. Even fading light would char her fears to ash.
The stink of oil and melted plastic tainted the air—not thick enough to trouble her breathing, but enough to sicken her. Worst by far was what burned.
She reached Akiko’s tea shop and bookstore. Despite her hopes, this was clearly the source of the flames. Specifically, Akiko’s car, casting a pillar of black smoke up into the air. 
The shop windows were shattered, and the door a broken ruin on the ground. Of all the people in Canterlot to attack, why Akiko? Her friend could get a little spacy at times, and definitely wasn’t the most socially well-adjusted. But that didn’t mean she deserved violence! Was her tea that bad?
Lyra removed her phone, snapping a few photos. There should be hundreds of people on the scene, blaring police sirens, maybe the fire patrol.
There wasn’t a soul. No one gawked out the nearby windows, and cars passed on the road as though they didn’t even see the flaming wreck a dozen feet away. Did I just step into a dream? 
The smart thing to do was turn and run, obviously. If it were anyone else’s store, she would’ve done exactly that. But Akiko—Akiko didn’t deserve this.
Lyra slipped her phone away, drawing Bonnie’s strange taser wrapped in wires. I’m not a victim anymore. My friends won’t be either. Lyra dropped into a crouch, and hurried through the broken door into Akiko’s building.