Aurora’s breath reeked of alcohol. With her foreleg draped across my withers, her head right next to mine, our cheeks occasionally brushed together. I tried to time my breath to avoid hers, but it barely helped.
Holding my breath was not an option, either; I was already panting from the effort of carrying somepony heavier than me.
With every passing second, it took more effort to ignore it all. The way her fur rubbed against mine, how her tail brushed against my legs. Every little touch set my chest abuzz with a dozen emotions, each of them alien and terrifying. Each breath was harder than the last, yet I dared not let it show.
It took more and more focus not to gulp. On second thought, why was I nervous about that? Why would the Captain care if I gulped? Why was I so nervous about any of this, really?
She was just having me help her home. I’d been to her mansion over a hundred times, so why was this time any different? I had a bloody room there, for Hades’ sake. I’d carried injured, heavier ponies for longer distances. This was nothing. Yet, with every step I took, I approached the inevitable conclusion to this night. I knew it, but I could not accept it.
The Captain shifted her head away from my face, but my relief was short-lived, because she instead draped her hot, damp neck over mine. A bead of sweat rolled down her muzzle, and landed on my cheek, making me shudder.
Strands of purple mane. The thump of her heart. The heat of her breath on my ear. The smell of sweat. How much further? The trip wasn’t very long, so we should be there soon. How much longer could I endure?
She swallowed. Her throat brushed against my neck. I almost broke then and there, biting my lip to hold back tears. They threatened to run down my cheek if I blinked too fast or too slow. Why was this such a big deal? I was just escorting a drunk mare back to her place. Nothing more, nothing less.
Aurora tripped. Small as I was, she failed to hold onto me as she fell forward. Behind her, a short spike protruded from the ground, blood running down it from the gash it had opened on her hind leg.
Her quiet swears were interrupted by a scream of utter agony. Another spike, taller than I stood, had extended from the ground and impaled her. Within the blink of an eye, three other spikes pierced through her, silencing her cries.
I immediately took to the air, ready to dodge. My fear was gone, my eyes wide open, expecting more spikes. They never came, and I sighed. Moon knew how, I’d been saved from this nightmare.
“Take a seat, Silver,” said a voice behind me. When I turned around, Selena was sitting on a throne made of cloud, levitating a cup of tea in front of her. She gave me a sad little smile, and I lay down on my own cloud, lifting my cup off the floating table.
Birds all around the clearing chirped as I hesitantly took a sip. It must have been mating season, given the intensity of their song. I stretched my wings, letting the sun caress my primaries.
I set down my cup. “Afternoon, Miss Selena. Been a while since our last talk, ain’t it?” Something nagged at the back of my mind that I was too calm, that I should be upset, but the reason for it completely escaped me.
“Hello, Silverstring. My apologies, I have been rather busy with my duties, and I’m afraid I have neglected our little talks.” She set down her cup. “How have you been? Are your wounds healing well?”
I nodded. “I’m basically back to perfect health. Don’t understand how, but I won’t complain.”
“That’s great.” She beamed. An infectious grin so broad that it surprised me. It was not a noble’s smile. It was not gentle, yet controlled. No, it was none of those things; Selena was simply that relieved to learn I’d recovered. “I am very happy to hear that.”
“Although,” I added in a sheepish tone, “I’ve gotten myself injured again.” For a moment, Selena tensed. “It’s just a pulled muscle, though.”
She smiled at my antics. “What happened?”
“Arawn wanted to show me and a friend of ours something, but we were attacked by living statues,” I said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Selena blinked, though didn’t quite give me the reaction I’d hoped for. “I am intrigued; tell me more.” As I gathered my thoughts to reply, she added, “I understand you and Arawn have made up? I would like to hear about that as well.”
I nodded, and told her everything leading up to our escape from the ballroom. Then my smile turned into a frown. “Everything was going so great, up until she confessed her love to me.” I stared at my hooves, unable to bring myself to say it. When I heard Selena open her mouth I lifted my gaze and said, “At which point I ran away.”
Selena raised both eyebrows. “Did I misunderstand something? Did you not feel the same?”
“That’s the problem!” I said, much louder than intended, making her wince. I lowered my voice to a mutter. “I almost said yes. I know we can’t ever be together, that it would be beyond stupid to try. But when I look at her, at her soft face or at those beautiful red eyes, all those reasons disappear.”
Selena frowned. “I apologise. It didn’t cross my mind,” she said. “I did not mean to tear open the wound.”
“It’s okay.” I gave her a weak smile, then watched my tea as I swirled it. “Her confession was three days ago already. Today, she came to see me while I stood guard for Aurora. Told me to find her at our usual spot in the evening, so that she could take me to her room.”
“Are you worried she would try to…” Selena hesitated for a moment, “Change your mind?”
“No. She ain’t the type to break a promise.” I stared into my tea for a few long moments. “I’m worried I’ll change my own mind. But you already know that, don’t you?”
Selena gave me a gentle, understanding smile. “Apologies. I just wanted to have you say it again.”
I furrowed my brow. “Huh? Why?” Was she playing games? Why would she do that?
“So you would maybe realise that you don’t need to do this to yourself.” She wore a blank expression as she watched me, sipping her tea. “Is it really so bad to bring some light into the dark? Do you truly have to deny yourself something good?”
“It’s too risky! If we’re found out…” I tried shaking my head, perhaps in an attempt to convince myself.
Selena raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You fought a chimæra, but this is too risky for you?”
“Yes, because the bloody risk ain’t worth the reward.” I gritted my teeth.
“You mean that your own happiness is not worth it?” I held her gaze for a bit. When I looked away, she said, “I have met many ponies like you. Pretending you are all right. Suffering quietly. Alone.”
“I don’t do that! I lean on Arawn when I feel down. I just don’t need her to be more than my friend.”
“And yet The Tower is eroding you. Week by week, day by day, it is chipping away at the pony you were when you came in.” She sighed, wearing a pained smile. “You might not realise it, but you’ve matured so much in little more than a year. It worries me.”
“And why is that bad, huh? I’m bloody tired of being treated like a kid.” I huffed. “Besides, you act like I’m suffering, but compared to the foals of The Tower, it’s nothing. I’m lucky. I’m a guest to an important pony, I get to choose how I spend my days, and I’ll be able to leave sooner or later.”
Her sad smile took on a knowing, understanding vibe. It chilled me to the bone. “You haven’t exactly had it easy either, you know?”
“Compared to them? Yes, I have!” I was shouting, tired of holding back. “The Forest of Braymor might be dangerous, but it’s not half as bad as growing up being treated as less than a pony! Did you know the wardens collect blood from their prisoners every month? It’s why earth ponies are considered so much more valuable! Because they can give more of their blood! How is anything I went through comparable to that? I had a bloody normal childhood.”
“I was referring to your stay in The Tower. Ponies born in The Tower have it tough, yes, but they have also never known the outside world. They do not understand it. For many, it’s a distant dream to leave, but nothing more. They cannot miss the sky, for they have never seen it.” I tried to hold her gaze, but her pained smile took the wind out of my sails. “Somepony like you, though… Especially a pegasus. I can only imagine what you are going through.”
“It’s fine. Really.” I pawed at the cloud below me, refusing to meet her gaze. “I’ve been here, what, a year and a half at most? I can deal with it. I have friends.” So what if I couldn’t see the sky? So what if I was stuck here a little? So what if Aurora refused to acknowledge my accomplishments? So what if—
I made the mistake of meeting Selena’s sad, wise gaze again. “Even if you turn a blind eye to your own suffering, you cannot hide it from the ponies who care about you.” She stared at her tea for a few moments. “Just please… please promise me to leave this place when you get the chance. Do not let anypony or anything stop you. Save yourself, Silver.”
I awoke to a wet pillow. I’d had that nightmare again, hadn’t I? Must have been in the middle of the night, because I was calm. For once, I was thankful I did not remember a dream.
I was in Arawn’s room. It was big. Well, I stood in her room’s vestibule, but I could see the rest of it behind her. Sweet Stars, Moon, and Sun, I was in Arawn’s room. My heart beat at an impossible rate. I wanted nothing more than to leave; I couldn’t keep my tail still. When Arawn took off her cloak, I blurted, “Okay, we’re here. Please tell me what you wanted to tell me.”
Arawn winced. “Right,” she muttered as she stared at the ground, ears drooping. “Sorry…”
I vehemently shook my head. “It’s… it’s not that; I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in the estate, and I really shouldn’t be in your room.” I tried to smile, but my cheeks were far too heavy. “Ponies could get the wrong idea.”
She pawed at the ground. “Uh, nopony ever comes to my room after dinner time.” She turned away, and quickly added, “I mean, not that it means we should waste time.” She forced out an awkward chuckle, before briefly meeting my gaze, only to then stare at the ground again.
Which was worse: four days of barely talking to her, or having her act like this? The former had me on edge, while the latter pained me. Would it really be such a crime to make her happy? To kiss her soft lips, to run my hooves through her mane, to stare into those beautiful eyes for hours on end?
Oh no. She had started talking while I was lost in thought. “I’m sorry, what was that? My mind was, uh, somewhere else.” Bloody Hades! This had all been so easy to ignore before. Why couldn’t we go back before she made things awkward?
“It’s… It’s okay.” She tried to smile. “I was saying that I am going to, uh, show you something very important.” She ran a hoof through her mane, fidgeting for a few moments, her tail flicking nervously. Hours might as well have passed before she spoke up again, “It’s… it’s not something anypony outside the Fell Family should know.”
What if I married into it? No, shut up! That was a thought I should especially avoid! Quick, what should I say? “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Absolutely amazing choice of words, Silver. Great job, you bloody idiot.
Arawn winced, then bit her lip, and attempted another smile. “Well, I trust you.”
Did I really deserve to know something like this? But if she wanted to tell me, who was I to say no? Although why would she reveal an important secret to a nopony such as myself? At the very least, why not show it to a smart pony, like Shade? Or was this really a ploy to get me to marry into the Fell family? What if, by showing this thing to me, she essentially made me part of the family?
“Uhm,” she mumbled. “Maybe we should sit down first?” She forced out another chuckle.
I gulped, and nodded.
She gestured for me to follow and turned around, leading me into her room proper. It was larger than what I saw from the vestibule. In fact, it was larger than I could have imagined.
My only point of reference was the guards’ meeting room in Hockney manor—sweet Stars, that hungover morning when Pearflower told me to deliver a letter felt like a lifetime ago. While Arawn’s bedchamber was noticeably smaller, the fact I could only compare it to a room thirty ponies could effortlessly fit in spoke volumes. The ceiling ran so high, I would have needed four or five flaps to reach it.
Yet… as huge as the walls were, they left hardly any awkward empty space on them. My gaze caught on five portraits of Arawn and her family, each painted at a different age.
On the first, she was a baby, barely a year old, held in the foreleg of a mare who could only be her mother. On the other side stood the Viscount, as imposing as ever. Yet, he seemed happy, relaxed. A polar opposite to the stallion I had met a few months ago.
On the second, the mare was gone, and Arawn sat on the ground, wearing a blank expression. Her father stood next to her, a forced, worried smile on his face. The third was similar, Arawn having barely grown despite the decade between the two.
On the fourth painting, Arawn already looked a lot like the one I knew, though younger by maybe two or three years, possibly less, and much weaker. A fancy dress hugged her bony barrel. Dark bags marred her beautiful eyes.
I tore my gaze away from that wall. My eyes landed on her bed. It was easily twice as wide as any I’d ever slept in, the sheets soft and warm. Its four posts nearly reached the ceiling, curtains hanging from them. To the bed’s left, another curtain hung from the wall. Could that be a window to the outside? Like, the outside-outside? Somehow, I doubted it, yet the hope remained.
On the large, thick carpet lay a pile of stuffed animals, many of which I failed to recognise. One of them in particular caught my eye. It had a feline body, but some kind of wild, thick mane. A plush stirred in the corner of my eye. Must have been unbalanced.
I pressed my eyes shut. After my bout of insomnia yesterday, they had been burning all day.
After I opened them again, they settled on a desk in a corner, covered in sheets of expensive paper, as well as a few books. A bookshelf leaned against the wall to the right of her bed, not even a quarter full. From the few books I recognised at a glance, they must have been her personal favourites. After all, why else would she have a bookshelf in her room if she had access to a library in the same house?
An ugly emotion crept its way into my heart as we walked towards the middle of the room: jealousy.
Because I had stopped, Arawn turned around to face me. As she met my gaze, her face grew worried. “Are you okay?”
I winced. Of course she would notice. How could I talk myself out of this? No, it would be far too obvious. “It’s just… I’ve never even really had my own room.” Technically, the Captain had let me use one in the servants’ quarters, but it was more of a guest room, and it was tiny. “And here you are, with something… something like this. I just… I just can’t help but feel a little jealous.”
“I…” She frowned, furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that at all.” She looked away for a moment, hesitant. “I could try to arrange better living quarters for you.”
I smiled, shaking my head. Stars, how I wanted to kiss her. “I appreciate it, but it’s alright.” Then the realisation of what I had just declined hit me, and I winced. “Actually, lemme correct myself.” I rubbed my neck, awfully conscious of it. It was a bad habit. Nevermind that; don’t get distracted. “If you can easily find me a nice place I could call my own—at least until I leave The Tower—I would gladly accept it. I just don’t want you to go through a lot of trouble for me.”
For the first time in four days, Arawn wore a genuine smile. “I’ll see what I can do.” My stomach fluttered. Damn it, bad brain! Down!
She lay down on the carpet in front of me, and her mask of pretend calm returned. My heart sank, and my ears wilted. “I think we should discuss what I wanted to show you, before we get sidetracked.” She took a deep breath. “Do you remember what I told you about ruling The Tower? That I am the most qualified?”
I nodded. “You also said you couldn’t talk about it.”
“Tell me.” She looked me in the eye, nervousness replaced by resolve. “Who do you think is currently in control of it?”
“Of The Tower? Wouldn’t it be the viscount?” Probably not the case; else she wouldn’t have asked.
She confirmed my suspicion with a shake of her head. “Father has sway over the political side. No, the pony who actually runs The Tower is Mother.”
Wasn’t she dead? How should I ask that tactfully? Oh, right. “She’s still around?” Actually, that sounded a lot more awkward than it had in my head.
If Arawn minded, she didn’t show it. “Not quite. Her mortal body has perished, but her soul is bound to The Tower, united with it.”
I blinked. “What.”
“It… it is complicated to explain. Please take my word for it, for now.” I furrowed my brow, but nodded. Arawn breathed in “It is what makes her the Morrigan.”
“The Morri-what?” Half an instant later, I added, “Nevermind, dumb question.” I let my mind run free for a few moments, answering obvious questions before my mouth could ask them. “And I take it nopony other than you can take her spot? Because you're her daughter?"
"Yes, and no, respectively,” she said, bobbing her head left, then right along her words. “I brought you here to show you the specific reason; it has to do with why I am capable of magic."
“Hey, just so we’re on the same page; I appreciate you wanting to share this with me, but…” How could I put this without sounding dismissive, or like I didn’t care? “You don't need to show me if it's such a big secret. I believe you. I really do.”
“Do not think of it as me doing you a favour. Think of it as me asking you for one. It is important to me that you understand the extent of my situation.”
“Wait, what? Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“I did not really know how you would react.” She turned her gaze to her hooves, picking at some lint stuck to her clothes. “I know it is silly, but after I screwed things up between us, I was worried you wouldn’t be willing to do a favour for me.”
It took a lot of focus to not cut her off. “You didn’t screw things up. I don’t think any less of you for it.” In fact, my feelings for her had redoubled at the idea of them being requited. Anyway! “And besides, I meant what I said about leaning on me. Anything you ask of me, I will at the very least strongly consider.”
Her mask crumbled away, replaced by a beautiful smile. “Thanks.” As it turned slightly sheepish, she passed a hoof through her hair. “And I apologise for worrying so much about this.”
Warmth filled my chest. “It’s okay. We both know you’re a worrywart.”
“Hey!” she protested, before averting her gaze and pouting.
A chuckle escaped me. “Anyway, why do you think of this as a favour? Are you worried it might be hard to keep such a secret from me? Or is it maybe so important that ponies might come after me for knowing it?” I stood up on my hind legs, balancing with my wings, and boxed a few shadows. “Well, they won’t have a good time catching me.”
Arawn burst out laughing. Oh how I had missed the sound of it! Unfortunately, it only lasted a few moments. When she opened her mouth, any mirth had left it. The sudden change dropped a boulder into the pit of my stomach. “No… It is something you might end up wishing you had never seen.” Her tone perfectly conveyed the severity of her words. If it hadn’t, I would have brushed her off.
I gulped. “I can deal with that, I think. At least, I’m willing to give it a try for you. Show me.”
“Thank you.” Just like that, her smile was back, albeit subdued. “Though before that, are there other questions you would like to ask me?”
What, did she want to give me a chance to change my mind? Still, I thought about it for about a long while, and nodded. “There’s something I don’t get. If your mother’s still alive, and she’s in control of The Tower… why doesn’t she fix things? Or is she like your father, unwilling to do so?”
“She is mindless,” Arawn stated as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “Without a body, the soul stagnates; it cannot comprehend new information. The Tower is constantly changing, and sometimes in ways a mere soul cannot comprehend. There are ways for us to slow the decline, but Father refuses to acknowledge the issue; he has too much faith in Mother.”
“I... see.” I stayed quiet for a few moments, blinking as my poor brain struggled to put together what she had said. “So essentially, you're the only one who can become the next Morrigan and fix everything? Did I get that right?” She nodded. “Well… uh… when do we start?”
“Not now, nor within the next decade. There are too many things I do not understand about the Morrigan. That knowledge is usually passed down from mother to daughter, but mine never had the time.” She bit her lip, grimacing. “I am nowhere near ready to take on that role. Instead, I want to strike a deal with the rebels. I have asked Shade to figure out the best avenue to approach them. Thankfully, Farrier is siding with the Rebels, which should make her job easier.”
“Then… what do you want me to do?” I wasn’t exactly as subtle as Shade.
“Be by my side and help me face the storm. Act as both my advisor, and later my personal knight.” She wore an expression I loved seeing on her; resolute and confident, it elevated her from a cute filly to a beautiful young mare.
Yet, after a few moments, the giddiness faded. I slowly nodded.
My disappointment must have been obvious, as Arawn hesitated before adding, “Though right now, I would appreciate it if you could put aside some time to look for Doctor Vitro. I wanted to talk to her about the surgery; try to coax some more information out of her, and figure out whatever the Hades she did to us.” She groaned. “However, when I went to see her again, she was missing. Her lab was completely abandoned.”
“I can do that.” My lips curled into a smile. “Thanks.”
“Think nothing of it.” Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “Was that all?” I nodded. “Then it is time for me to show you the source of my power.”
Oh, right. “Actually, that brings up another question: is that why it needs to be a secret? Because otherwise, anypony could wield it?”
She nodded. “Partly. It is a family heirloom. In reality, it would take decades for somepony to reach my level—longer without the same blessing as I have—but allowing ponies to know about it would only encourage theft attempts. It would probably take somepony well over half a century to learn enough to have a chance at becoming the Morrigan.”
Again, it made sense, but… “Partly? What more is there?”
She sighed. “While most of the family heads are aware of House Fell’s relation to The Tower, none know exactly what that entails. If they knew… chaos would break loose.”
I blinked. “Why? It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“I will let you decide for yourself, Silver, if you’re ready.” After I nodded, she stood up and headed for the back of her room, towards that odd curtain.
“Out of curiosity… Would I be able to learn some of that magic? Or is it a sarosian thing only?”
“In time, probably, but… I would not recommend it.” She hesitated for a moment. “It is far from easy, and it might not be worth the time, effort, and other issues it might cause for you.”
I blinked. “Wouldn’t that be up to me to decide?” Damn it, I’d spoken too quickly! “I mean, uh, if you don’t want me to, I won’t learn it.” I rubbed the back of my head. Stop that! “But if you don’t mind, I would like to at least try.”
She gave me a small smile and shrugged. “I suppose we will see.” She took a few steps forward and waved me over. “Come on. I will show you.”
I followed her to the curtains. Her magic moved them aside, revealing a metal door covered with four chains running diagonally and horizontally across. The chains were held in place by thick locks, similar to the ones on the ballroom door. However, these were engraved with symbols of some kind.
Arawn opened her mouth before turning to me. “Are you truly certain? You will learn things you might prefer not knowing. There will be no going back for you and how you see me. This is the last moment to change your mind.”
Was I certain? Was she overplaying it, or was I underestimating the situation? It didn’t matter. I nodded once. “I’m your friend, and if doing this will take a load off your back, then I’ll learn a thousand dark secrets and whatnot.”
Arawn’s smile was as genuine as it was pained. “In that case…”
She whispered something, and one of the locks clicked open, leaving the chain to dangle. A chill ran down my spine. Another lock, another chill. She reached for the handle, pulling the door open. It had been meant to keep something in, not out.
This couldn’t be that bad, could it? Was it too late to change my mind? Why would I change my mind? It was creepy, but I could handle that.
As she opened the door, a glacial wind escaped it, making me shiver and my fur stand on end. Arawn, however, did not even flinch as she looked back. “Are you cold? Do you want my sweater?”
I slowly shook my head. “No, it’s fine now…” The cold had left as quickly as it had come.
The door had revealed a long corridor, but Arawn blocked my view of what lay at the end as she led the way. I followed; with every step, more of my coat stood on end. Eventually, a pedestal came into view, a thick book bound in plain leather resting atop it. With every step, the room grew colder. Yet I was sweating.
My body screamed at me to run, louder and clearer with every step. Yet with every step, the book’s pull grew stronger. I needed it between my hooves. I needed to feel its soft leather cover. I needed its smell of old book. I needed everything it could tell me, show me, teach me.
The Whispers grew louder. Whispers I had never heard before. Whispers that had always been there, that had always surrounded us. They were here. They were everywhere. At every moment, at every instant.
My heart beat several times a second, loud as a drum. Yet it was so distant, so inconsequential, so mundane. It didn’t matter. The Whispers mattered. The book mattered.
I reached out to touch it.
Screams echoed around me. Tens, hundreds, thousands of souls cried in dissonant unison. Visions of destruction, blind and indiscriminate. Overwhelming pain, omnipresent and ever-intensifying. My nerves burned, my muscles spasmed, my eyes shook, my ears rang.
It all stopped, and I was the only one screaming, lying on the floor, drenched in icy sweat. Arawn’s concerned face leaned down right as the edges of my vision blackened, and I lost consciousness.
I understood. I understood how little I knew, how little I was. I understood so much of the magic inside the book, the magic around the world. All of it beyond my grasp. I knew so much, yet understood none of it.
I shifted on the extremely soft and warm bed. Did the medical ponies give me a bed upgrade or something? I turned on my back and settled into a more comfortable position, groaning as the blanket slid off of me. I’d somehow fallen asleep in a position that was far from good for me; several joints popped.
Unfortunately, I was awake. I wanted to enjoy the comfort a bit longer, but my mind was already set on starting the day, so why resist it? Oh, right, I was released from medical care a while ago already. Did Aurora get me a better bed? What was my schedule for today, anyway?
No, I was still off duty for two days. Did I have anything else to do today? Didn’t Arawn want to—
My eyes shot open. I scrambled to close my legs and get into a more presentable position, only to end up sitting on my rump with my legs in front of me.
Arawn sat at her desk, hunched over a book. She slowly turned around and said, “Oh, you’re awake.” I had the briefest hope that somehow, she hadn’t seen anything, but the intense blush beneath her ever so light pink coat told me otherwise.
Fuck. Sweet Moon, drop a star on me. “I’m so sorry!” I blurted out without stopping to think. “I wasn’t awake, and I just–I didn’t know where I was, and I-I’m so sorry!” I jumped out of bed.
Arawn forced out a chuckle. “The fault is not thine—” She shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry, I was reading a weird old book. It’s not your fault. I should have made sure to properly cover you, and—actually, can we drop the subject?”
I nodded and went to lay with my stomach on the thick carpet. A moment later, she sat down in front of me.
A heavy, awkward silence stretched over the two of us as we avoided each other’s eyes. I was trying to find something to say, but my mind would not leave the horror of what had just happened. Even the book—
Nope, not thinking about that, either. “So, uh, read any good books lately?” I asked.
“Uh, yeah.” Arawn let out another nervous chuckle, meeting my eyes for a few seconds. “Apart from the one I mentioned earlier, I’ve been reading one about a mare who believed she was a fruit.” She rubbed her hoof on her leg. “It is hard to say why without ruining the story, but it is a very good book.”
“That sounds pretty interesting.” It kind of didn’t. “I’ll have to check it out.” But I’d have to trust her.
Silence fell over us again. I looked around the room, desperate to find something to turn the conversation towards. Should I talk about the grimoire? I shuddered. No. The family pictures? As if this conversation wasn’t already awkward enough. What about… “By the way, what’s with that pile of plushies?”
Arawn blinked, before breathing a relieved sigh. “Oh, those? I made them. Well, except that orange tabby. That one is Mother’s work.”
“I didn’t know you sewed.” Please, let this topic last.
“I do not. What I meant is…” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Actually, I think it is best to show you.” She turned to the dolls. “Everyone, let us play.”
One by one, the plushies rose and walked down the pile, through no apparent effort on her part. There were maybe a dozen.
A few moments later, they surrounded us, hopping and skipping. Most of their movements were mechanical and unsophisticated, though the tabby danced around much more fluidly. Was it staring at me?
To give the animated dolls more space, I stepped closer to Arawn. Oh. I was too close. Not that she would mind. No, not thinking about that now.
She nodded at them. “Like I said, most of these are my own creations.”
Before either of us could say another word, the tabby jumped me with enough force to knock me off balance. It started repeatedly slamming its paws into my chest. It wasn’t much worse than a colt or filly wailing on me, but from something so small, it came as a surprise.
Before my mind could truly catch up to what was happening, Arawn stomped her hoof. “Enough.”
The dolls fell, limp.
“What the…?” I said.
Arawn ran up to me, offering me a hoof. “Sorry! She’s never done that before. Not to me or Aurora, at least. Are you okay?”
I took her hoof and sat up. “She?”
“Mother’s finest magic; my sister.”
I blinked and nodded. I didn’t want to think about any of this.
Arawn offered an apologetic smile. “Like I was saying, my magic isn’t quite as good as Mother’s… but this is the first time she’s done something like that.” She sighed, slowly shaking her head as she enveloped each plushie in the same nearly invisible red glint she used to lift her blades.
We sat there in silence for a while longer. I didn’t know what else to say. The dolls creeped me out, but I might hurt Arawn if I said anything about it.
“I think…” said Arawn. “I think I should address the elephant in the room. What did you think of the Crimson Skin?”
I blinked. “The what?”
“The book you saw in the back of that room.” She pointed to the door, once again locked up and chained.
Right. That.
Come to think of it… What had even happened back there? It had been unpleasant, and the book would forever haunt me, but why? I had no idea. “I… I don’t know. I vaguely remember what happened, but…” A shiver ran down my spine as more memories poured in. It was a miracle I hadn’t soiled myself. Sweet Sun, perhaps I had, and Arawn had to clean me up. I pushed the horrifying thought aside, pretending like I had never had it. “What is it? It felt like… like so much more than I can understand.”
Arawn nodded. “That is all normal when meeting it for the first time. Still, I think your reaction was admirable.”
“It was?” I raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I scream like a colt?”
Another nod. “You did, but I was worse. At least you managed to get close to it. When I was little, I tried to show it to Aurora as well, and she ran out screaming not even halfway down the corridor.” She tried to reassure me with her voice, but her eyes betrayed how guilty she felt about it. “Anyway, you asked what it is. It is a… family heirloom. The Crimson Skin used to be malicious; it used to try to exploit ponies who made contact with it.”
“You’re saying that it’s no longer malicious? The way it called out to me, how it was trying to trick me to touch it… If that thing is capable of malice, then I’m pretty sure that was malice.”
“It used to be worse. It used to promise ponies everything they wanted. The ponies who used it, thus, were wretched and vile. As it absorbed part of them, it too became vile. It preyed on ponies willing to give up their equinity for power.” Was that pride dawning on her face? “Not my family. We have been giving ourselves to the Skin for generations, without expecting anything in return. I think things would have gone very differently if you had encountered the Crimson Skin of even a thousand years ago.”
I gulped. “Still. It’s creepy, and I don’t like it.” There. The bandaid was off. Hopefully she wouldn’t hate me for this. “It reminds me of that nightmare I had about a few weeks ago, right after my fight with the chimæra.”
Surprise dawned on her face. “Nightmare? You never told me about it, but it sounds like it’s a big deal if you still remember it.”
“Never got around to it.” I shrugged. “Then I kinda forgot.”
She smiled. “Well, tell me. What was it about?” Finally, our conversation was beginning to sound normal again.
“I dunno. Way too abstract for me. I was in the training grounds, at night, when some kind of star monster started talking to me.” I chuckled. “I realise it doesn’t sound very scary when I put it like that, but in the moment it was terrifying.”
Arawn shared my laugh. A sound I could never get enough of. Maybe things could go back to normal after all, even with her confession and my screw-up.
“What did it say?” she asked. “Did it threaten to kill you?”
“Worse. Kind of. It wanted to make a deal with me of some kind. Claimed The Tower didn’t belong to ponies or whatever—did I mention the dream didn’t even happen in The Tower?—then offered me freedom if I helped it.”
With every word I spoke, Arawn’s smile faded further. “Did… did it give you its name?” Her low, worried tone sent a ball of ice into the pit of my stomach.
I gulped. “It d-did. It called itself Erebus.”
Arawn went pale as a sheet as she stared at me, and gulped. “That… That is bad. Things are a lot worse than I imagined.”
“Is there something I can do?”
“Not right now. I was planning on having a friendly sleepover with you after I showed you the Skin, but I’m going to have to stay up all night and study up on things.” She cursed under her breath. “I’ll get you back to the sarosian district first, don’t worry.”