Nopony was going to be pleased with Twilight’s choice. Not even her, truth be told. Facing a forest spirit, a powerful entity possessing all of those incredible abilities, and doing so directly on its turf? Not the smartest of scenarios to choose.
But one that simply had to be chosen, although it was not accepted by anypony gladly. Lord Dusk Harvest was the one to express his objections the loudest, naturally, and not even his impairment was going to stop him from doing that.
“H-Honored P-Princess, please, r-rethink this!” he told her for the third or fourth time, pretty much stepping right in between her and the overgrown plantation where the Lesy was awaiting her.
As Twilight looked behind the Lord, she could have sworn that a paw emerged from the mist, ready to grab her the moment she would pass through the mystical archway. But that was surely just an illusion, while the stallion before her was genuine and ready to stop her.
“Hwalbu haspadr, I am moved by your stance,” Twilight admitted, as she appreciated him looking out for her so strongly, “but this is the one course of action that can actually deal with the problem. Without unnecessarily endangering anypony.”
“A-anypony other th-than you!” the Lord responded, shaking his head and almost stomping his hoof down. “Th-this is not s-something that you n-need to do for u-us! We will f-find a way to d-d-deal with this problem!” he declared, firmly believing in his words. But surely also realizing that it was an unlikely thing to happen, unless the Lesy would decide to depart on its own.
“Honored Lord, please, I want to help...”
Twilight’s insistence was not getting through to the haspadr very much, though she could spot that a number of local fruittenders were paying great attention to the exchange and were seemingly impressed by her willingness to tackle the problem. She was certain that the gossip would travel at lightning speed and reach all of the corners of the Iug by the end of the night. The Dusks loved their grapevine, in both senses of the word, and an Equestrian Princess arguing with the Lord over trying to placate one of Those of the Forest would make for a fantastic piece of tattle. Twilight imagined that what had already happened between her and the Lesy would make for a fantastic fable...
... maybe more of a cautionary tale, if she were not to return from this escapade right into the entity’s maw. And that was exactly what the haspadr was so worried about.
“This is too r-r-risky, Honored P-Princess. I... T-tac, I should a-ask my s-sentinels to bar you entry!” the stallion persisted, and Twilight had to be equally impressed by such tenacity, however folly it was.
She gave a short glance towards Midnight, who was diligently accompanying her and withstanding the haspadr’s protest with the calm dignity of his role. He was giving his own side-eye to the Lord’s guardians. He was likely assessing whether he could actually best them, if such a need would arise.
Twilight wasn’t going to let it do so, no, regardless of her companion’s bravery and readiness. “Honored Lord, I have made my choice. I understand why you are trying to stop me, but... you won’t. Please, let me do this,” she tried to sound calm and collected, but her success was still only minimal.
Especially since Lord Dusk Harvest shook his head, reached into his gown and seemingly held something in his hoof, without taking it out. She had seen that happen already during the conversation with the Lesy. Right now, his gesture could have been interpreted as almost... threatening.
“I d-don’t know if it i-is your ch-choice, Honored P-Princess,” he declared, looking straight into Twilight’s eyes, as if seeking something in them. A flicker? A glassy sheen? “The L-Lesyi are dangerous for m-many reasons. They can m-m-muddle minds with their t-tricks... This c-cannot be one of th-them, and I n-need to be s-s-sure of that.”
Twilight felt the tension suddenly surging. She spotted in the corner of her vision that Midnight’s stance ever so slightly lowered, as he read into the Lord’s gesture. The Lord’s sentinels, also sensing this sudden shift happen, leaned slightly in the direction of their haspadr, preparing for anything.
No. That was definitely not something that Twilight would allow to transpire. An open scuffle? What was Dusk Harvest’s plan here?
She took a step back, holding one of her hooves up. “Honored Lord, whatever has you worried about this situation, I assure you, you are wrong. I am in full possession of my faculties. I simply see this as the best of all alternatives,” she spoke up, confident despite giving ground a little. “Attacking the thicket is unwise and won’t bring anything but anger from the Lesy. And its anger might be great, indeed. Trying to contain the being inside? That can only help so much if it can make a whole plantation turn into wilderness in such a quick manner. It could do much more still. And it wants to speak with me. Well... that I can do. That is what I want to do.”
Dusk Harvest wasn’t unreasonable, not at all. But his genuine worry and, Twilight dared to believe, sympathy he felt towards her meant that he was having a very hard time trusting this crazed plan.
It was outrageous, nopony had to prove that. One glance at the twisted copse was enough.
The haspadr took a deep breath. He kept his hoof in his gown, and whatever he was holding was instilling in him some additional courage. Enough to contest Twilight, yes, but also enough to accept the harsh reasoning which she was presenting.
“I... I f-find myself at a c-c-crossroad, as you say it in y-your tongue,” he spoke up, his eyes escaping to the side. “I d-don’t want to endanger a-any of my s-subjects, or the o-owocellatani of other R-Rodini, tending to this p-place. But I c-cannot imagine m-myself letting y-you take on such a ch-challenge.” He lifted his hoof as well, signifying that he wasn’t finished and letting his ponies know that things weren’t taking a very bad turn. “Y-you are an esteemed g-guest, an e-envoy. You don’t n-need to endanger y-yourself like this f-for us. But... d-do you truly b-believe there not b-being any other s-solution, Honored P-Princess?” he asked.
He was hopeful that she would present him with an alternative scenario, but, alas, there was no such thing to divulge. “I do, Honored Lord. Your worry means a lot to me, but I know that I have both the opportunity and the strength to see this through. And I won’t be venturing on my lonesome. Nightguardian Midnight Wind declared that he shall accompany me.”
The mentioned stallion stood at attention, showcasing his preparedness with a proper salute and by puffing out his chest a little. Dusk Harvest’s gaze met Midnight’s, as if the haspadr had to ascertain himself of something.
And that connection lingered, to the point where Twilight was considering the implication behind that strange staring contest.
The Lord spoke up finally, his voice carrying with itself great seriousness. “Your b-bravery does you c-c-credit, n-nocferratan. You are t-taking your m-mission very s-seriously, if you a-are ready to f-f-face a Lesy like th-this.”
“I am aware of the possible dangers, hwalbu haspadr, but I have a sworn duty to follow,” Midnight responded, sounding calm and confident, though Twilight was aware that he couldn’t have been purely that.
She definitely wasn’t a picture of nerve, thinking about meeting the entity once more. But if there was anything that could give her that little more strength, it was the stallion’s company.
Besides, the ‘sworn duty’ he mentioned sounded to her like it meant much more than just a Nightguard’s loyalty to his task.
The haspadr nodded at the declaration, then gave a quite big sigh. “I w-would like for there t-to be a b-better solution. Y-yet if there is n-none...” He finally took his hoof out of the gown and produced from it something that resembled a small amulet. One that looked like it came from a different part of Noctraliya, actually, as Twilight took note. “This is s-something that I-I was given from h-hwalbu haspadr Blessed F-Fang. It’s o-one of the symbols that h-his Rodine uses, to w-w-ward their d-dwellings from m-misfortune and assure p-prosperity of the b-blood within. I u-usually keep it on m-myself, as a small r-reminder.”
“A reminder, Honored Lord?” Twilight asked, letting curiosity get the better of her.
She didn’t get the answer, not to that question. “I was t-told it could p-protect from ch-charms and evil i-i-intentions...” the Lord instead uttered, extending his hoof. “P-please, Honored Princess. Y-you will n-need it more than m-me right now.”
Twilight felt touched with the gesture, reaching out to take the little trinket. It was weaved from small branches and tied together in a convoluted way to make a specific, oval shape. Even if it didn’t feel magical to her, it was an important thing to accept. “Thank you, Honored Lord...” she expressed her gratitude.
Though she was also sure that the haspadr paid great attention to her when she grasped the piece. As if to ascertain himself whether she would react in an unsavory way, perhaps one that would suggest her mind being played with.
No such thing happened so Dusk Harvest, albeit reluctantly, took a small step to the side, letting her know that she could proceed, if she really so wished.
“Don’t fret, Honored Lord. I will deal with the Lesy and return...” she promised, solemnly... though could have sworn that she heard a little, breathy chuckle right in her ear. She didn’t let it distract her, however, instead turning to Midnight Wind. “Nocferratan?”
“Tac, hwalba knaze,” he expressed his readiness without fault, and took a step to stand side by side with her.
She had to fight the urge to reach out for his hoof as they began trotting towards the plantation.
If it could still be called that. To an untrained eye it looked like it had been an ancient wilderness since the dawn of time. The only thing that suggested that this place had ever felt a pony’s hoof was the concentration of orange trees. The density of those was exactly what the Lesy had used to weave a nearly impenetrable barrier of boughs and roots, sans one access point, marked by its symbol and letting out breaths of mist from within, obscuring the path.
Twilight stopped right at the thicket’s threshold. She took a deep breath, as if air itself would be tainted a few steps ahead. That was actually something she had pondered on…
“Are you sure about this, Midnight?” she asked for the last time, to calm her conscience about possibly endangering the stallion against his will.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he responded, trying to lift her spirits with his impish tone. However, it was only there to mask the fear trying to grasp him. “So… We’re going in. Well, then I commend our spirits to the Bogine, only She—”
A great rumbling and creaking resounded from the depths of the thicket, which sounded both like a thunderous laugh and a vicious hiss. It caused Midnight to assume a ready stance to protect Twilight and she reacted by lighting up her horn... but nothing followed the deep sound.
She kept the magic concentrated, though decided to speak up before doing anything else with it. “It seems to me like our near-future conversation partner is not fond of you doing that...”
“It can burn in Peraure for all I care...” the stallion replied, using his anxiety and irritation as a fuel for his bravery. “May we be protected. We shall definitely need that.”
Twilight nodded, agreeing. Though her idea of that was a little more direct than just based on divine providence. “Hold still. I need to focus on one spell. It might help us,” she instructed him, plucking her mind for the right sigils to visualize.
“I take it it’s something more than just your sight magic. I cannot see three hooves into this mist anyway...” Midnight commented, scanning the path for any threats and waiting for her to finish casting.
“No, but another sense might require aid, and this could actually be crucial to our safety,” Twilight explained, reaching out and grasping the ley lines around her horn.
She sensed that they were still passing through the thicket, despite the Lesy’s influence, and weren’t bent or twisted to maintain the wilderness in any way. It actually would confirm a small theory she had arrived at and one she wouldn’t mind sharing with Midnight in a moment.
Having gathered the right amount of magical potency and weaving the strands around the two of them, Twilight let go of the spell. She might have put a little too much strength into it, she thought, since the drilling sensation in her nostrils was enough to cause her to fight a mighty sneeze. Midnight was caught slightly by surprise, shaking his head with a hiss.
“Kirwe... Whatever that was, I felt that,” he complained just a little, scrubbing the top of his muzzle for a moment. He sniffled and inhaled... and stopped, looking at Twilight. “I… I cannot smell?”
“It might be a side effect, yes,” she told him, checking for herself. The whiff of oranges in various states of ripening and rotting went away, and it had been getting more pungent the closer they had approached. “I think I know how the Lesyi are capable of doing some of their tricks,” she said, looking around. “You mentioned smelling something strange when you were in convulsions, and Rowan Berry also shared that detail in her story, alongside the taste on her tongue. I figured that it might be the key to the sensations that these being are invoking in those around them.”
“Musk? Or... how do you call those? Like, animal scents of a different kind? Insects use them, I think?” Midnight asked, as his logic quickly caught on, quicker than his vocabulary.
“Pheromones, yes,” Twilight confirmed, taking another breath just to make sure the spell held. “That’s quite specialized knowledge, Midnight, I’m surprised.”
The stallion shrugged just a little, though it was far from a dismissive gesture. “I read and I still read, Equestrian books are fascinating. Though that’s the kind of specialized knowledge, of which I acquired quite a lot, that won’t be of much use against this thing, unfortunately…” he told her, giving her an almost apologetic look. “But, if I understand you right, this being is using those smells to influence us? Is that how it got me to just shake and bend all over?”
“I think it’s a part of what it can do. I couldn’t see it reaching for arcane means, definitely, even though he was creating his body out of parts and maintaining that form, then switching it on the fly…” she described, and the memory of its alluring look caused her to fight a blush. “It was making plants grow at a great pace too, but this isn’t arcane ability. This is something else,” Twilight added, reminding herself of that fact. “It’s like the Lesy’s connection with the world around is so great that it can just utilize it, like a potter uses clay.”
“He has a lot of clay at his disposal,” Midnight quipped, steeling himself for what is to come. “And yet… Twilight, it didn’t fix my wing with just a smell.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m aware of,” she agreed, “but there’s not much I can do about those abilities if I don’t know what they are. I could keep putting wards on us, but those would require more and more concentration from me. And we don’t know what we will meet inside.”
“I understand, yes…” the stallion concurred even with his limited grasp of magical matters. “He said something that I now recall, something interesting.”
“What was it?” Twilight asked, trying to remind herself of the Lesy’s utterances.
“Something about small thorns?” the stallion pointed out. “I might not have heard it right, I was a little occupied with writhing on the ground,” he commented with chagrin.
“Small thorns… Yes, it said they were there,” she agreed, thinking. “If… I would think that your wounds were cleared properly, but maybe it can actually connect to the smallest pieces it can sense? Those that we cannot normally see? Could he be commanding even such minuscule slivers?” she pondered aloud.
“Well, you’re using vocabulary that I’m having trouble with, so I guess it isn’t good,” Midnight summed up, letting out a sigh. “I suppose there’s little to gain from just discussing this thing’s many powers. I’ll go first. Keep close to me,” he asked of Twilight.
After receiving a supportive nod, he took the few steps which finally made him cross the place’s threshold. He stopped briefly, watching for any reaction from the thicket, but when none came, continued on.
Twilight diligently followed, swallowing. This would be unlike anything she had endured before. And she had been to the Everfree Forest. That particular woodland was always considered a bastion of the untamed wilderness, a primal presence in Equestria’s lands. But, in comparison to even that fabled thicket, this place… This place was in its own primeval league that almost defied explanation.
First thing that Twilight registered was the sudden shift in temperature. The thicket was warm, warmer than the Valleys, but in a way that made her feel clammy and uncomfortable right away. The mist was clinging to her coat almost like a slimy substance, bringing with itself a humid, overbearing heat of summer. The vapor hanged from her body like a thick coat, it made moving sluggish and difficult, especially since she was already wearing a gown. And one that was not the best of choices for a shift of the entire climate.
Midnight, for his part, was feeling the warmth with equal strength. His armor wasn’t oppressive, but his thicker coat was definitely letting him know of the temperature. Not to mention that he was forced to almost carve a path through this thicket, and it didn’t mean simply parting the mist. This wasn’t an easy trot, not at all. The roots which had jutted out from underneath the ground were almost deliberately trying to trip both of them over and over, the boughs were hanging low, attempting to grasp their manes.
And the silence. The eerie, unnatural silence reigned in this place, as if it were devoid of life even if it spoke of the might of life itself. The quietude was currently disrupted only by them moving through the copse, and was ringing in Twilight’s ears like a constant warning.
“Kirwe…” she heard Midnight swear, though he was keeping his voice low, “I feel like I’m swimming through this…” he complained, trying to fight the mist. Coming across a particularly thick set of roots, he turned to Twilight. “Here, take my hoof,” he offered.
She gladly accepted the help, reaching out to grab it. She was glad that achieving alicornhood had gifted her with a bit more endurance, but this journey was already taking quite a lot from her, and they might have been trotting for just a couple of minutes.
But the very aura of this place was overbearing and weighing them both down. They managed to overcome this obstacle, yet it was all the easier to spot that even Midnight with his warrior’s training was having a hard time progressing. His breathing was deeper, and his coat matted.
She must have looked about the same, actually. She felt even worse. Perhaps, in other circumstances, they would have been more joyous about even this sort of physical contact, helping one another, but not here.
A minute or so later it became apparent that further travel would grow even more difficult. The change was gradual, yes, but it was now becoming obvious that the lack of light would impair them both, regardless of night vision or spells. The Moon’s illumination was almost completely gone at this point, and it had already troubles to make it through the thick, omnipresent vapor.
Twilight was about to act, though Midnight’s voice was faster than her.
“Good that you’re lighting the path, I can barely see the tip of my muzzle…” Midnight thanked her, and she replied immediately, fighting confusion.
“I’m not using a spell,” she warned. “What are you seeing?”
That prompted the stallion to look to the side and slightly behind them, searching for the source of the light which he had thought coming from Twilight’s magic, and she quickly followed his gaze.
There was something. A flicker, which flared, imitating the color of her power, and then escaped, right when their eyes focused on it.
“Trickery… It’s watching us,” Midnight commented so quietly Twilight almost missed it.
“It knows we are here, definitely, but this…”
She wanted to comment further, when another flicker appeared, before them and to the right. It lasted just for a breath, but shed delicate, whimsical light as if mocking Twilight’s abilities and dispersed as quickly as it had manifested itself.
It… left behind something, however. This sudden surge of curiosity, which was definitely a part of a yet larger deception, Twilight was sure.
“Do you feel that? It’s trying to lure us off the pathway, I think…” she pointed out to Midnight, who shook his head, having wiped his brow from sweat. He turned his head towards her, and she could spot that his gaze was a bit glassy.
“What pathway?” he asked sardonically. “I can barely tell there even was one here before. There’s more dirt, and we can still fit through, I think.” His head snapped to the side when another glint tried to guide him. “It’s toying with us…”
“Most likely…” Twilight agreed, steeling herself for what was yet to come.
Those sparks and glitters continued from then on, raspberry and familiar, and she could actually feel the tension in her legs, as if her muscles were trying to act against her, which caused a slight, numb pain. Still, while those sparkles persisted, distracting and even irritating, they were also allowing them to keep to the right path.
It was becoming uncomfortable, however, to say the least. Now the tree trunks and boughs were leaning in whenever they would take their eyes off of them. A change here, a shift there, never in anypony’s sight. Again and again, Twilight would feel a wayward branch scraping against her dress and through her coat, like a coaxing touch. Midnight wasn’t faring any better. The stallion was wearing his armor, at least, but was being prodded to the point when he was almost snarling at the forest around.
Twilight could tell that her ensemble was suffering more damage with nearly every trot, as she was leaving strands on the manifold branches behind, but… somehow she didn’t mind. Her body felt hot, the air was humid.
She couldn’t care less about her dress. Right in the midst of untold danger, she was almost cajoled to take it off completely. It would feel more… natural
The ticket moved, shifted, changed, in dead silence. And so, when the rustling of leaves happened, it was such an abrupt sound that Twilight found herself stifling a yelp while Midnight turned and presented his claws in the direction.
“Over here…” came a soft whisper, that caused both of them to shudder.
Was it fear that caused it…? Or something else? The voice sounded… pleasant.
Midnight swiped with his claws, nevertheless. They moved aside a branch, but… without managing to cut it. Or even damage the leaves.
“What…?” he expressed his shock, additionally fed by the fact that there was nopony hiding behind the bush, which was y itself almost actively trying to appear innocent before its attacker.
“What’s… What’s wrong, Midnight?” Twilight asked, even if she had just herself witnessed the shrubbery withstanding the sudden strike without any harm.
“More idiocy,” he commented almost in a hiss, clearly getting more agitated by the minute.
He checked in with Twilight before proceeding, and she nodded, assuring him that they could move on. Although the entire situation was causing her to feel more and more uncertain. This was the domain of a Lesy, after all, and each trot was hazardous. Each movement could provoke a reaction, one that would be tremendously hard to fight against, having so little room, light and with no calmness of mind. It was all deliberate, Twilight knew. They were on its territory, and it might have been unhappy about the fact that she brought with herself some help.
She swiped her brow, but that wasn’t helping. She felt almost physically ill from all the humidity and the claustrophobic sense of entrapment.
She was definitely glad that Midnight came along, however. His aid was vital, his strength and persistence were very crucial in getting through some portions of the trail. Yes, Twilight could use her magic, but the more she could conserve her strength, the better it was for both of them.
Besides there was… There was something quite enticing in how Midnight acted. Firmly and with intent. Like the way he had just reached down and threw onto his back one side of a sizeable log which had been blocking the pathway. It allowed Twilight to try and pass underneath.
She could feel his eyes on her as she did so. When she looked back, his saffron gaze was slightly hazy, but his speech was coherent. “You know that… that I really shouldn’t be able to do this? Or, at least, it would be foolhardy? Considering those wounds I carried since the verlupte?” he asked her in a whisper, ready to put the log down.
“I am aware,” Twilight told him, looking him over a little. A bit… more than necessary? “So, the Lesy… it didn’t only fix your wing, but restored you to full strength? Is that it…?”
“It seems so…” Midnight admitted, shifting to let the log roll off him. “I should be grateful, I suppose, but the only one I’m going to thank is Nes—”
He didn’t finish this sentence, for it turned into a pained scream, instead. His form buckled underneath the weight, and only a last-ditch effort, as well as Twilight reaching out with a spell and pulling on his whole body, prevented the stallion from ending up with a leg right underneath the trunk.
Twilight gasped as panic came upon her. She was sure that she had just hurt him with her magic. All of those lacerations, those many wounds which the stallion had just mentioned, manifested on his body once again. She witnessed his wing spasming, with a bloody, gaping whole right through it. For the briefest of moments she was back in that arena, witnessing Midnight impaled on the manifold branches and thorns, just like when he had fought for her honor.
Yet in only lasted a few seconds before all of the injuries healed themselves once more.
The stallion needed a good moment to focus and restore his bearing, and Twilight could barely imagine the agony of reliving that moment. But when the shock passed, his body had already been restored to full strength.
And his mind was experiencing great fury at what was happening to him. “I… I will not… be a plaything…” he hissed underneath his breath, looking about, as if ready to dive right into a nearby bush to get his hooves and weapons on the Lesy.
Before Twilight could speak up, something shuffled nearby, causing a shrub to wobble. Midnight’s attention was immediately caught by that glint, as he lowered his stance to pounce and strike, with a growl coming from deep within his throat.
“Over here…” came a hissing, seducing reply to his actions.
Thankfully, Twilight was right by the stallion and grabbed one of his forelegs. “Midnight! No!”
She actually had to hold tight, as his instinctual response was to try and get her to let go, as he shifted his body weight and gave her a most irritated look in response. However, upon witnessing that it was her holding him back, his anger subsided. It was clear for a good second, nevertheless, that Midnight had to strongly fight the urge to repay the entity for his suffering. And that he didn’t care that she was in the way.
He had to know better. “This is deliberate. It wants you to get angry…” she deemed, trying to calm the stallion down further. “If one thing doesn’t work, it’s attempting something different. It’s a game, a-and a trap, look!”
She pointed to the place where the flicker and the voice had been. Even through the mist, still attempting to cling to everything and anypony, great, gnarly thorns and sharp prickles were visible, awaiting those brave and foolish enough to charge into that particular plant.
Midnight realized the threat immediately after it had been pointed out to him, which helped him fight that sudden surge of anger. He shook his head, brought a hoof up to it. It was clear that something was wrong with him.
“This… It’s getting to me,” he revealed, breathing deeply, though it didn’t help to calm him down. He had enough clarity of mind, however, to turn to her. “Thank you, if you didn’t stop me, I… I…”
He wanted to finish the sentence, but something got his attention. Twilight didn’t know exactly what it was since… since she found herself distracted too. She was just looking right into his saffron eyes, which were trying to express gratitude, and… and she couldn’t quite look away.
She felt like her temples were on fire from his closeness and from that familiar stare, reaching deep into her. She had missed it. She yearned for it. For his stare, and his touch, and his caress and… more. Much more. She wanted the distance between them to close… now.
Her body moved on its own before her mind could catch up. But Midnight kept her at leg’s length, shaking his head of whatever sensations he had himself felt. “Twilight… Twilight, stop. Concentrate.”
She didn’t want to. She really didn’t want to think, she wanted to act. She needed to listen to the instinct, to address the heat in her veins, gathering and smoldering. This was natural, this was an urge that was just at the core of who they were…
But… But was this the time and place…? Why?
Wait, heat in her veins? What was happening?
She shook her head, actually tapped herself across the muzzle. She blinked, realizing that her vision had gotten somewhat blurry and there was a dull buzzing in her ears. Midnight’s features became much sharper, finally, even if his eyes remained a touch glassy and his forehead was glued with sweat.
“What’s…?” she tried to ask, realizing that she had just fallen victim to something.
Midnight had the answer already. “You’ve just… tried to kiss me,” he told her, looking perturbed about the gesture perhaps for the first time since they had met each other.
“I… I did,” Twilight realized. It definitely wasn’t normal. Not that she didn’t want to do it, on some primal level, but such a gesture in these circumstances was utterly illogical. However, she followed the reasoning, especially when realizing that deep urge inside of her which had flared out of nowhere. “Are you… Are you feeling dizzy, Midnight? Your eyes are a little hazy…”
“So… So are yours?” the stallion told her, and he was trying to concentrate enough to hold the conversation. “This… It’s like I have a fever…”
“You do.”
That wasn’t her who replied, nor it was him confirming it in such a strange way.
A gust of wind struck them both, warm but firm, like a gale coming over the mountaintops. Midnight used his wing to screen Twilight instinctively, yet nopony would expect such a strong rush of air in a thick copse like this. The mist around cleared in a few breaths, and both of them witnessed a sight that was as unnatural as anything else about this place.
The vision of a glade materialized right before their eyes. There couldn’t have been one in the first place, not of this size. This had been a plantation, and this clearing definitely wasn’t just left by the batponies deliberately. Was it even real? The grass was verdant, the ferns surrounding it opulent and grand. The boundary was made out of orange trees which were bowing into the meadow and creating a wondrous canopy above, one which allowed only the most whimsical illumination to pass through, bathing the place in an enchanting light.
But this was not just an illusion. In the middle of this place stood the familiar silhouette of the Lesy, bearing the alluring guise of a wild pony, looking at both of them with intent and even a smile, though barely visible from underneath the bone mask. Its antlers had whole hooffuls of fragrant flowers and a couple of mushrooms hanging from them, as if it had decorated itself in a celebratory way, to welcome them into this temporary domain of Those of the Forest.
“Come, companions, creatures, charges…” the entity spoke, extending its hooves towards them in an inviting way. “I… await, patient as the oak, yearning like the mistletoe…”
The enchanting voice resonated in Twilight’s ears, almost prompting her to move by its own power, though the Lesy’s alluring form was only adding to the compelling force. Her body wanted to advance, it yearned for the closeness with this entity, though she had enough fortitude to withstand the call. So did Midnight, though he almost drew blood from his lower lip, for he was biting it so hard to stay where he was.
The Lesy acknowledged this reluctance in a very pony way. It sighed, and its expression caused the nearby grasses to yellow, then blacken and wither, then restore themselves to how they were.
“We… still miss what we… see, but not now. I… weep over the misfortune. You, the victim of kin. You, the victim of kin’s cry and sevenfold cursed keepers…” the being complained, trotting slowly to the side, leaving no impact on the soil and the undergrowth, even as it was passing through the thickest of ferns. They didn’t even shift from its presence, nor were they protesting. “No joy, no answer. A dead bat, a dead bird. Deadbeat.”
Twilight wasn’t sure what that meant, especially with the strangely informal expression. She had to first fight this gathering, warm feeling, coursing through her veins. It reminded her, all too well, of what she just had to endure with the Count Brother’s concoction, and the comparison instilled enough fear in her to actually help her reach for coherent thoughts.
“What… What did you do to us?”
“I… did naught, naught in comparison… We… do, but now do not. So I… ask, and demand of the world to act, instead. You pluck at what’s unseen to plug, a funny trick,” the monster admitted with a slightly venomous smile, clearly referencing Twilight’s spell. “But breath is still drawn, body tastes even through skin. Little help, so little…” it added.
Then it stopped, turned towards the two and beckoned with a deliberate motion.
This time it wasn’t the matter of Twilight’s mental endurance, or even stamina. Her muscles cramped and bent on their own, forcing movement. Or, at least, a jerk which had her jump right into the meadow. Midnight followed her against his will, both of them tumbling into one another and landing onto the soft grass. The opening into the copse immediately grew closed behind them, leaving them trapped in the glade with the Lesy.
The being wasn’t quite pleased with this outcome, however. “We… can do, but now do so little. I… have many friends who help, live in, spread, but little friends do little too…” It waved its hoof, and Twilight felt like her body was released from the spasm. But not from the heat, which persisted and was trying to rob her of strength and concentration. “You are powerful, that power we… taste. Tang of raspberry, but sweetness already in it…” the Lesy huffed in indignation. “Sorrow borrowed.”
Twilight wasn’t sure what the thing was ranting about, but first things came first. She needed to get up from the ground, although… the weight of Midnight’s body against her own was pleasant…
The stallion scrambled up, nevertheless, helping her to her hooves while not allowing his gaze to leave the entity’s form, and it wasn’t allure which was guiding it. She knew well, because Midnight’s attention and hooves were lingering on her for a bit longer than necessary to aid her in standing up.
Bho’Rhu’Tah, the thought of his name again spawning incessant whispers in Twilight’s mind, observed the two of them with an almost child-like curiosity. “Mingle, mingle, tingling skin…” it commented, a glint in its crimson irises, betraying the spirit’s presence hiding within the captivating form. “We… enjoy the sight, we… appreciate this one. I… find it most intriguing. Nothing like this before. Riveting, revolting to some…”
“Revolting?” Twilight heard herself asking, earning a chuckle from the Lesy.
“Bounds, boundaries that nature does not know. Sometimes knows, but not here. Blood flows well and sap matches…” it replied with a knowing grin. Then it clearly met Midnight’s gaze with interest. Interest and a dosage of vexation. “But you were not invited, companion. Yet here you are.”
“And yet here I am,” the stallion responded with the being’s own words, adding strength to them despite the fact that he also must have felt the sting of fever in his system.
His stance could not intimidate the Lesy. “Invitation is dangerous, lack of one sometimes even more deadly… You have invited once already, doesn’t work out well now…” the monster responded in a strange tone, almost as if a touched mare allowing herself a biting comment.
However, a comment that would need the missing context, Twilight deemed. And, since they were having this sort of a stand-off, she decided to try and reach for the core of the meeting, without resolving anything through violence.
She tried to focus a bit better, despite the unpleasant sensation and the pain in her joints. It was as if she had the flu, or some other malady, but there was a strange, pleasant factor to it… Or maybe her mind was just getting progressively more confused.
“You… You wanted to have this conversation. I came, and I... brought a companion to help me. We can talk like this,” she declared, hoping that she was showing enough conviction to actually get the creature to focus on her, instead of Midnight.
She had endangered the stallion as it was, for she was wondering whether he wasn’t afflicted with this strange delirium even more than her. He was keeping close and panting slightly, though trying to stand his ground for the sake of protecting her.
The Lesy’s stare met Twilight’s, and she had to shudder at the power in it which inflamed the warmth in her. “Companion you have brought, yes. Companion of yours, I… sense the call, it shakes your core. We… have companions, but not now. Shame, such shame,” the being complained.
It then turned, waved its hoof and moved its antlers. Prompted by this call, the nature obeyed and a passageway was created through the grass, which lowered itself in an almost reverential bow. A path was now clear, right into the center of the glade, where a carpet of moss quickly grew, enough to actually allow them both to lie down.
It was strangely inviting with its delicate softness, at least to Twilight.
The Lesy ventured forth, as if it had forgotten about its company. It didn’t, of course, though only spoke again when it stood at the opposite end of the clearing.
“Come, sit. I… shall share fire, share ire…” it called for them, beguilingly.
Twilight wanted to follow for more reasons than just the monster’s call. Her curiosity was inflamed no less than her whole body. And so she proceeded, flanked by Midnight. Her legs were a little wobbly, same as his, and time after time she could tell that they were subconsciously bumping into each other. Their contact was… inviting, in her mind. She thought that she would somehow hate it, that what she had endured from the Count Brother would make her resistant, but the slight buzzing in her head, caused by the febrility, was distracting her. In a good way… In a very good way…
It didn’t stop even when the entity awaiting them struck the ground with both hooves. It was a potent hit, one that she could feel in the soil underneath her. And… And something about the gesture was so eerily familiar to Twilight. It was like a… challenge issued to the world around, heavy and formidable. She had seen this before, no…?
This rumbling call, sent through the very earth, was answered quickly. Seven stones protruded from the soil, as if columns rapidly building themselves, covered in lichen, tangled in roots. They formed a half circle behind the Lesy, as if remembering their ancient places without fault, and something of a shrine was created to house the meeting. Something about it felt primal and sacrosanct, as if a visible reminder of an era long gone.
Twilight hissed through clenched teeth when Midnight’s muzzle found its way to her neck. She heard him whisper.
“I… I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“No, don’t worry,” she assured him, as the thought of this being inappropriate was being dulled by the fever, by the heat gathering in her system. “It’s… He’s making sure we don’t… We don’t turn on it. It… it wants to talk,” she instructed the stallion, though she wasn’t sure how she knew that. But there was no reason to antagonize the monster.
And, unfortunately, she imagined that reaching for a spell to try and neutralize whatever affliction was running through them would make the situation worse.
Besides she... she enjoyed this, on some basic, intrinsic level.
So she trotted on, to join the Lesy in its makeshift resting place. The looming presence of those great stones invoked in her a sense of ancient respect for what was unknown. The being patiently waited until she sat down, alongside Midnight. The latter was trying not to lose focus even for a breath, keeping his gaze on the entity in their proximity, though that didn’t stop him from sitting so that he had Twilight right next to him, as if they were on a casual date and not in the midst of supernatural peril.
She couldn’t complain. The warrior’s warmth invoked only the best emotions from her.
The entity chuckled, seeing them so cautious but so distracted. “We… understand. I… seek no harm here. If I… wanted to, I… would nourish the earth with you already.”
“What… Tell me, what is this?” Twilight asked. The creature was still a threat and it was operating with threats aplenty. “Why… are we feeling like this?” she added, though the apprehension wasn’t great enough to stop her from leaning back to lovingly support herself on Midnight.
“This is nothing… We… wish to do more, but now we… cannot. I… just longed for these moments, so I… sought help. Little help…” the Lesy claimed, then shook its body a little. A nearly invisible cloud of… something briefly came off of its antlers. “Fear not. They help, not seek host. They feed on life, on flesh and fly, but they can nourish, they can alter, change, invoke. I… told them to be mindful.”
Twilight wasn’t sure what the Lesy meant, though something clicked in her mind despite the situation and the wave of feverish relaxation. “You… use pheromones, but not only… These are spores…? The body tastes through skin…” she repeated the being’s words.
“Smell, spore, secret and secretion. Things little, so little, doing so little. Some you sense, some you don’t, some live in you, a multitude of voices spelling a desire to live, to act... But this is not the euphoria of old, the flaring of instinct till there is nothing but instinct. The revelry of life from you, I… miss it. But this sight is pleasant enough...” the entity spoke with a calm smile, appreciating them both resting before it like an artist admiring a sculpture. “I… mind not the blood. But I… relish in life more.”
Midnight found enough protest in himself to be vocal about it. “I… think the ground drank enough of my blood,” he told the being, sounding defiant and irritated despite the effect holding him too. “I still... still don’t get it... How do you do this, thing...? How can you... can you command my body like so? This, but... but the wounds, and my wing...”
“We… know. We… can. We… can more, but not now,” the Lesy began explaining in its convoluted way, not minding how Midnight called it, or at least not showing it. “Your mind is closed, suffused with sorrow, adorned with belief. But we… know the body. I… master its call, for it is flesh. Your flesh is open, suffused with life, adorned with instinct. I… reach into your being, find the wounds, and the splinters left within. Tiny, not visible, but marking you. They remain, cling, cleaned only at some point, by your own life moving on, flesh knitting, building. As long as they are, however, they can reply when I… ask them to act…” the monster declared, as if an ancient sage instructing a young disciple, and something about its tone was growing rather pleased about the stallion listening so carefully.
Twilight paid enough attention too, and decided to ask. “So… you have mastery over flora, fauna, the… the essence of life? Just not… not our minds? Just his as… as a ‘companion’? Or mine as well?” she presented an educated guess, but also an inquiry. Considering the ways that the being had tried to utilize so far, there was a pattern. And there was an obstacle it had been trying to work around.
The Lesy looked at her, and its gaze was one of vexation and… sadness. Deep, profound sadness. “We… can do it, but not now,” it responded in that strange manner once again, staring at both her and Midnight, but then returning to meet her eyes. “I… thought that you would remind. I… was intrigued by your form, the best of many, a covenant of strengths. But I… sense it in you. The call, the wail. It frustrates…” the thing declared, and for the briefest of moments its form began shifting and changing, showing sinew, muscle, bone protruding from underneath the coat, before it returned to its alluring guise.
“The… call?” Twilight asked, despite the entity’s chagrin, hoping for more details.
But the Lesy refused to give them outright. Instead, it put a hoof on one of the standing stones, and the rock shuddered. It was as if the very essence of the being began to fuse seamlessly with it, though Twilight didn’t know whether she could trust her eyes. The feeling in her veins was all-encompassing, making her eyelids flutter every time she could feel Midnight’s breath against her neck, the beat of his heart echoing across her own veins.
Still, the monster continued to talk, as if drawing memories from these ancient stones. “Old marks, of old times, of purer times, of fuller times. Like here, like everywhere. When ears were hearing, when minds were listening. And when eyes were not wandering needlessly up, down, beyond, followed by voices,” it spoke, as if this obelisk was giving it insight into what had been. Its voice began morphing into a yet more pony-like, with the flow of words progressing more naturally. “And when times were as such that the words which were spoken by companions had meaning. A greater one, a more… natural one. You, for example, warrior. Your clan ventured far, embroidered itself in civilization. But you must remember. You all do, it’s just far from your minds. So...” it paused ever so briefly to look intently at Midnight. “Do you remember the taste?”
Midnight glanced at Twilight before answering, though his gaze betrayed the reluctance and the fatigue of the fire in his veins. “The… the taste of what?”
“Flesh. Marrow. Viscera.”
For a moment it sounded like the Lesy was threatening the stallion, but it turned out to be a statement of fact, especially when the creature continued as Midnight blinked in tired surprise.
“Does your mind buzz with recognition at the mention of it? Does it reach into the older time, beyond? Do you recall the tang of the wolf’s meat? The sweetness of the sheep’s marrow? The bouquet of the fox’s blood? Do you know the call for what is scarlet? Do you feel the desire, locked in crimson?”
Midnight looked like he was completely lost for a breath, but then Twilight saw that his jaw began dropping as his mind was connecting the dots. And she tried her best to listen more attentively herself, in between the rhythm of her heartbeat, the buzzing in her ears. Was this creature implying that…?
No, it wasn’t. It was stating it. “We… remember, and remember well. Your kind, partaking, hunting, gorging themselves. Old times, very old. When and where words weren’t spoken, but howled and hissed. Not even shackled into signs yet. Your blood changed, your needs changed, for it was long ago. But your nature calls for this, so much so than, to preserve it, it entangled the feeling with pure, unadulterated instinct, that deepest one. With the tenderness and tremble in the hips…”
So did the Lesy reveal, and the mention caused Twilight to bite her lip, as if her own body was recognizing the topic. Or maybe it was just Midnight’s closeness...
... especially when his mouth suddenly found her neck. When his fangs moved on their own, scraping against her flesh, seeking the liquid life coursing through it. The stallion forbade them from sinking in, but it took nearly all of his strength.
The entity, observing this reaction, shifted its weight a little and the roots closest to its hoof moved… uncovering deep, crimson discoloration of the stone. “We... are here, witnessing it, but not now. Witnessing your life in its most primal form. I... remember well, your dances and your celebrations, the revelry that even I... partook in. Where did it go?” the Lesy asked, wistfully.
It was hard to pay attention to the explanation, however, especially with Twilight having to fight the stallion’s sharp affection, expressed in those two, wonderful fangs. It was a scenario that she had envisioned very well in that hot spring, that she had been ready to... accept. To partake in, to wistfully lose herself in this primordial indulgence. But was she ready now? The fever in her veins was telling her, was screaming at her, to encourage him. To let him take his due, to allow him to bind himself with her in that most core way. One which would see the ancient legend of the vampires be proven.
It was looking less and less like just a fable, and she couldn’t be more excited about it.
But Midnight was withstanding the call of the red desire, and doing so with intent, that much was blatant. It was in the way his jaw was shaking, his breath was hitching in his throat. If the Lesy had been hoping that the delirium it had invoked would be enough to break the stallion’s will, it was sorely mistaken.
And it was aware of it. Though no anger manifested in it at the sight, only nostalgia that was coloring its crimson eyes black.
“We... pity you. I... pity you even more, for I… have seen and partaken, I… have mingled with you, companions... Companions of ours,” the entity added, its gaze locked on the ancient blood marks on the standing stones. “We... revel, but not now. We... drink, but not now. We... feast, but not now. We... are happy. But now we... miss.”
Twilight knew what Midnight wanted. And she obliged, for she cared for him.
She made the conscious effort to lean a little away from him, and she surprised herself with succeeding. Her neck was now separated from the stallion’s lips, feeling abandoned but safer. And the warrior used this chance to close his mouth and rein in the treacherous instinct. Still, his hooves clung to Twilight’s body and left behind slight tingling that she couldn’t quite escape from.
But she had enough clarity of mind to recognize all that the Lesy had explained so far. “You... You were living alongside the noctrali all those... all those years ago?”
“They didn’t speak of their name yet. And then thestrali is what I…. prefer...” the being instructed her, and a note of vexation manifested in its voice. “They dwelled where light wasn’t present, they hunted in the forests, celebrated beneath the canopies. Then they rested and found shelter beneath ground. Night was theirs, the Moon was theirs. Not the other way around.”
Twilight was reminded of that nightmare she had endured. When she had called, believing it might have been a visitation from Princess Luna, but had received only a lynx’s hiss.
She felt as much as heard Midnight stirring behind, and his voice rang right next to her ear, causing her to bite her lower lip. “You... You were our, what... our friends, then?”
“The forest is a friend to the hunter, just like the soil is to the gatherer. Life is a friend to life, despite everything. You thrived, feasted and reveled, and we… revel with you, but not now. But that wasn’t enough for you,” the Lesy responded. It seemed like it could have been angry, though emotions escaped from its voice like a flock of bird which flew away in panic. “You started looking beyond, away, seeking something, even if everything was right by your hooves. And now? What good does that do for you? You look to the skies and don’t listen to the earth, and you wonder why the earth does not listen to you back?”
Twilight wanted to ask about it all, feeling like her thoughts were getting more and more entangled and losing coherence. Was it the heat or the scope of those revelations?
But the entity was faster, locking its stare with her, pushing into her own mind with the sheer gaze. Or that’s how it felt to Twilight.
“You are not Moon’s, no, not like they are. But I... feel the cry in you, the cry of the cry...” the Lesy insisted, stepping closer and then craning its neck so that its muzzle was on Twilight’s level.
When Midnight attempted to hiss and ward the creature off, it simply glanced his way. And Twilight could tell that the stallion was struck by the febricity even more, as he let out a long exhale. She felt that he let his head fall down onto the soft moss, his hooves but limply holding onto her, as the affliction utterly robbed him of strength.
She would protest, but Bho’Rhu’Tah was right next to her, and the proximity made the whispers drill into her ears and make them ring. And yet she heard its firm voice without troubles, for all the utterings belonged to it.
“I... cannot lift the veil. She knows it, for they asked her for that, inadvertently. But I... can pose a question. An inquiry that, perhaps one night, will split matters in two. What is around and what is inside,” it commented, looking fiercely into her gaze, causing her to shudder. “Sometimes doubt is the first wayward tear...” it then muttered.
Twilight saw his hoof extending, almost reaching out to cup her chin. For whatever reason, she knew that were she to allow this connection something terrible would happen to her. Further illness, madness, or something even more damaging, perhaps even final. She leaned her head back, avoiding contact to the best of her abilities.
She remembered about something among the chaos in her mind. Not that she would think it would actually work, but anything could help at this point. She managed to reach into her clothing, though her hoof was fumbling with the fleeting strength, and produce that little charm that Lord Dusk Harvest had given to her. Would it stop the being, even a little?
It was intrigued by it for a brief while, definitely. Though beyond some ancient understanding of the amulet’s meaning, nothing appeared in those crimson eyes. No fear, no hesitation… although no, that wasn’t right. Something primal shone in this gaze. Something amused, abashed, enticed and empathetic alike.
However intriguing, this wasn’t the sort of outcome that Twilight had hoped for, so she hid the trinket back. She was at that point ready to try and light up her horn, for whatever good that would do, but was relieved when the Lesy stopped its persistent motion and advance. However, its touch hovered not far away from her, like a claw of a predator, like an infectious cloud waiting for her to pass through it.
And she had already been subjected to something which was making all of her veins burn and her muscles ache numbly. How much further could this thing before her push her?
“Answer me, spark, sparkle, time of twilight...” the entity spoke directly and strongly. Its guise shifted ever so briefly, reminding her that there was a monster of bone, bark, muscle and branch underneath that charming look. An abyss merely enveloped in creation. “Hear this riddle, and find the true answer, for it shows truth fundamental, ready to break foundations. Refuse, or fall to a mistake...”
It didn’t finish, and it didn’t have to. Whatever it was planning, Twilight was not eager to learn, perhaps for the first time in her life. Instead, she was waiting until the question came out of the creature’s soft lips and the oblivion hidden behind them.
“Why do mountains always hold answers?”
Twilight blinked, fighting her instinct, fighting the malady in her system. It was a question that expected a reply sooner rather than later. A response that would have great weight, she was all too aware of that.
The proximity of the Lesy made her back almost give, as she fought against crumbling alongside Midnight. She managed to glance at him. He was trying his best to stay awake, to hold her close with his limp legs. It was as if he dreaded that were he to fall asleep, she would be taken away from him forever. As if he believed that they needed to remain, or otherwise they would never again be... them.
She understood that fear, for she wanted nothing else there and then but to protect him from this known and unknown danger. She was in the monster’s power, she was in a desperate situation, and surely somepony would dare state that in a moment like that one needed to seek shelter with not only the mundane, but the supernatural.
Twilight grasped onto that one, coherent thought, desperately holding onto it whilst feeling that the closeness of the entity was taking away her very life force. Perhaps it was just the fever, perhaps it was just horror, but that didn’t make it any less real. Something was happening, and she needed a way out, for both of them...
Who could hold an answer to such an inquiry, however? Who would reply to a question like this? Who would have the confidence to respond? Anything could go at this point, even blind confidence in providing a reply. Anything in reply.
Mountains were to hold answers, so… So…
Twilight was to find a real one, but that didn’t mean that they had to...
That frantic logic bounced around her mind, which was trying its best to formulate a response from all of those scraps of thoughts. It had to give her something, it got to find the truth...
“Twilight...” she heard Midnight’s whisper, as he tried to get up, though perhaps not even understanding why. “Twilight...” he spoke again, like...
... yes. Yes, that was it!
Her mind screamed with a force to push back the very presence of the Lesy, although her voice was much less than a victorious shout.
“... echo. Because there is an echo...” she told Bho’Rhu’Tah, withstanding the whispers invading her mind.
Especially when its alluring guise smiled widely enough to reveal jutting, sharp teeth resting just behind the regular pony ones, and guarding the untold abyss just behind.
“Yes. Yes,” the entity responded, mimicking the sound as if they were right between the tall, majestic peaks.
Betraying through the excitement in its voice and gaze an almost mystic understanding of everything that had gone through her head.
Finding that one, bold truth she had clawed her way at.
The creature took a step back and offered a deep, almost reverential bow before the verity her mind had revealed before her.
And Twilight felt her lungs burning, realizing that she had barely breathed this entire time. She tried to get up, to use this opportunity for... for something, even but a gesture of defiance, but she couldn’t even keep upright. She just lay there, right next to Midnight, both of them finding this small comfort of the softest moss underneath, and of one another, as they were trying to breathe evenly.
Still, as the Lesy gave them more space and offered this strange gratitude for her response, the buzzing and the heat in Twilight’s veins subsided enough for her to pay attention to its voice.
“The mountains always hold answers... Yes, for they keep truth to themselves, deep down, deep inside. And yes, but their answers are at the same time… not. You ask for protection, they repeat it to you. You ask for guidance, so they speak of guidance. A trick, one might say, nature’s own chicanery. Echo, just an echo. But here?” it asked of the copse around, of the land around. “No, She is here.”
“... She?” Twilight heard Midnight’s exhausted and confused question, as if one more, desperate reach for divine protection. She would ask for the same, almost.
And the Lesy was upset about it, clearly, for its body convulsed as if wishing to shed the charming, false form and show its truly monstrous countenance.
“You made Her Her,” the monster told the stallion in chagrin, and once more invoked that echoing sound which resembled the natural reverberation. “You called. And called. And called. And the Voice in the Mountains finally answered. It answered with silver, for that is the color of its form, and the hue of what you call the Sign, and the glinting in the mine that you attach value to. It answered with sadness, for you were calling to it in your own plights, real and false. And with its dreadful wail it echoed your words, your needs. You had everything, yet you wanted more, and you got more. And less. She made you deaf, answering your calls with your calls...”
Twilight couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Maybe it was the fever, but she could swear that... that she knew what the entity was talking about. The cries? Something resonated in her core, something warm, but hardening at the words from the creature.
The Lesy trotted away and stood in between the standing stones, again supporting one of them, reaching into it. “We... warn. We... explain. I... spoke to you, so many times, but you didn’t listen. You called and called, beyond, above, below, and something finally awakened like you wanted it to, poor, poor companions. Awakened and awakened you.”
“ ‘The Moon awakened us’...” Twilight invoked, remembering that information which Midnight had shared with her during the very first interview. The fundamental words that spoke of the beginning of the batponies as a race. “How... Just how long ago was that?”
“Long ago that no mind remembers the details, and no sign ever recalled or recorded how it came to being,” the being claimed. “But we… know. And the Voice in the Mountains knows. It remembers every prayer and every sigh, every entreaty for help. You needed a Goddess, so She gave you one, and yet not the one. Filling the gaps as necessary, with silver sap, suffocating your freedom,” it shared, almost growling in protest and anger. “Immaculate, for you have made Her so. The Moon, for you called Her so. You molded yourself into Her mold, for although She shifts and moves, She takes on the form needed.”
Twilight felt Midnight’s legs tightening around her as he clung onto her in desperation and confusion. The Lesy was explaining, if she understood it right, that the batponies had... invoked their Goddess through their own actions?
But that... That meant that the Immaculate Moon... was truly not Princess Luna? Was something else, something as ancient as the monster before them, something they were vehemently opposed to, for it took the batponies away from unbound nature, and from them?
Twilight took a deep breath and tried to push herself up, to sit upright and force herself to pay attention as much as possible. It proved a daunting task, as the fever in her veins was making her dizzy and exhausted.
The Lesy observed her struggles with interest and that simmering fury at what it must have perceived as a dreadful fate which had befallen the noctrali. It must have anticipated Twilight having more questions, too, as it turned back to them both, majestic and stoic as if a slighted sage.
She didn’t manage to get up fully, but at least supported herself on one of her legs, though that cost her dearly when it came to both physical strength and mental fortitude.
“You... You claim that the Goddess is... is something in these Mountains? An entity, a... a force?” The Lesy merely nodded. “How... How does it act, though?”
“Thrums, rumbles, cries and wails, unseen force moved in foreseen ways, the Voice in the Mountains. It veils your minds, but knows the spaces between the threads,” the being claimed, looking intently at Midnight. “You see what you need to see. She guides you, for you want Her to guide. See your kin, those that see? Why are their eyes behind a veil? Are your eyes hidden, too?”
“B... Because...” the stallion mumbled, trying to find and excuse or explanation, but his mind was clearly fighting the magnitude of these revelations.
“The seers... The effiti, they... They are receiving their visions through the fonts...” Twilight mumbled to herself. “So... the Voice in the Mountains, She... She is responsible for that, through…?”
Her mind was aflame, barely holding onto the question. Withstanding the chaos inside her head long enough for her lips to get the inquiry through, before it would dissipate among the erratic thoughts. It was as if Twilight hadn’t slept in a week. But she tried her best to pay attention when the monster continued.
“She responds, for She is called. And you call again and again,” it insisted, looking somewhere to the side, as if it could spot something that no other creature was able to discern. “Tell, however, spark, sparkle, time of twilight, for I… am also intrigued by the feeling of curiosity – is an echo less than the call summoning it?”
She tried to judge that matter quickly, as quickly as her burning mind was allowing her. “It’s... it’s still a voice, it just doesn’t... doesn’t carry its own meaning?”
“And yet it’s still a voice, yes,” The Lesy repeated in an echo of her own tone, which only made her thoughts scramble more. “Prayer for the Goddess, answered... by a Goddess. The Voice in the Mountains listened attentively, for to speak it needs to listen. It listens now, still, hearing far, far beyond.” The monster’s ears flickered as if a pony’s. And its lips curled in a nasty grin. “You wanted a Goddess and there is a Goddess. One Goddess, and there cannot be more. When the Voice hears a voice like its, it understands. It makes room, reluctant, for She was asked to be protective, and She listened...”
“Makes... room?” Twilight asked, desperately trying to understand.
The creature turned to her and exhaled. The scent of its breath reached her, though not through her nostrils, still protected with the remnants of her spell. But rather through her very body, though she had no idea how was she able to discern that. The sensation made her vision swim and her muscles relax, so much so that she fell back down, into Midnight’s protective embrace.
It was welcome even if he couldn’t provide her with even a sliver of defense anypony needed when confronting a Lesy.
But the being... understood. And its gaze grew lenient.
It trotted closer again, although this time its advance wasn’t robbing the two of them of their power, not so dangerously. The creature swayed and slithered forth, with the agility of a snake, with the grace of a fawn. And with a gaze of an understanding forefather.
It invoked in Twilight a feeling of serene peace, and though it was most likely faux, inflicted by the Lesy’s trickery, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to fight it.
It felt just better to... to sleep.
Still, Bho’Rhu’Tah’s whispers lingered in her ears, and this time they weren’t inviting her to join them in the embrace of fetid swamps.
“There cannot be two, but neither is one. How perplexing, how damaging for a mind, even like yours. It will hold to what is only necessary… Amusing. They remembered this, very same lesson, the sevenfold cursed, even if they think She taught them that. Though perhaps one night...” it uttered, as Twilight felt its proximity, even if her vision was beginning to grow darker and darker. “Perhaps the Voice in the Mountains will be rendered silent, unnecessary once again? Perhaps a new Moon will rise? Perhaps all shall be as it should be? Or perhaps the old ways shall return? Perhaps they will be new ways that in truth are old, older... Oldest…”
Twilight tried to stir, but the most she achieved was a weak sigh. The longing in her body pushed her deeper into Midnight’s embrace. She could feel the rhythm of his heart again, and it was synchronizing with hers. Making her feel connected to him, but also so tired.
And the Lesy continued to murmur, the melody of its voice lulling both of them into oblivious, warm slumber. “Perhaps you will be the one, with you the other... Ones blessed by something new, that is as old as life itself, continuing, growing, moving on.” Twilight felt a slight tug, as something was removed from her dress. She could have sworn that the being was now holding something in its hoof, but her senses were ceasing to act. “Some old things, after all, remain. Changed, mistaken for others, but surviving... And that is important, regardless.”
A strange sensation coursed through Twilight at the being’s words. She didn’t know why, she just… felt it. It spread from the tips of her hooves, reached her heart, which reacted with resonance, though it had been strangely hardened in preparation for… something. This sensation, it wasn’t warmth, not like the fever, and yet is… was. A peculiar satisfaction, one that felt almost... motherly.
And, at the same time, Midnight’s closeness began to mean more to her. It meant being protected, cared for, and loved. Loved for more than just her own sake, as it felt like Twilight was meant to be... more than just herself.
She tried to understand why, tried to hold onto the fleeting memory of this feeling, of this meeting, but the warm nothingness was all too inviting and alluring. That smile, that jutted smile she had remembered was also dispersing, was letting go and escaping back into the abyss.
The Lesy’s voice grew quieter and quieter.
“Accept what life brings, both of you. For life is life, and brings life in the end. Through blood, through strife, through hunt. Through moments of revelry which leave calls hoarse, which make existence bright and warm and sweet and more...” the whisper reassured her. “We... know. You know too… but not now. So we… are waiting, watching, holding our breath. And I... hope that one night things will be as they should.”
Twilight tried to lift her eyelids, but barely understood why.
“Spark, sparkle, time of twilight... Listen... Come... Sleep...” the voice like a lullaby spoke to her, and the last glimpse of Bho’Rhu’Tah’s presence came to her mind.
She could see its alluring features, as well as that convoluted form of a being of nature. But she had forgotten her fear and apprehension. The Lesy was just… there. An ancient presence formed of old truths. Invoking a primal respect for what once had been, and what was waiting to reappear when all things would be said and done.
And after that thought… there was nothingness. But Twilight enjoyed it. She wasn’t alone in it, blissfully sharing it with another, she knew that much.
For Midnight dreamt right by her. And so nothing bad could happen…
That was how they were both found. Side by side. Their expressions serene, their breathing deep. With the thicket and the Lesy nowhere to be found. As if nothing had ever occurred.
All that remained and which could speak of what might have transpired was the small charm, positioned between the two of them.
With the first stirrings of a fresh sapling growing from it.