The Nightmare Tree
Chapter 5
Four figures, a mummy, a skeleton, a monster, and a witch, sped upon broomsticks after a gangly unicorn flying upon the wind under his cape. Nopony was sure when, but a thick set of low lying clouds and filthy fog set in, obscuring the little ponies’ views. For a while, the four simply huddled together as close as they could fly, until Sweetie Belle was fed up, and flew upwards.
The clouds were pierced through, and small trails of ephemeral smoke tailed the grass whiskers of the witch brooms. Four foals leveled off the flight path, and settled to fly over the clouds in the direction Moundshroud had been taking them. Eventually, the clouds began to thin, and slowly part and open up to the ground below. Underneath the canopy blanket sprawled a city of stone, plaster, and wood. Nestled between the two and three story buildings was a spider web of cobblestone streets, shadowed by overhanging shingled roofs that comfortably sat upon the houses.
Sleeping ponies could be heard from the open windows as the foals descended to get a better look. Eight eyes pried the inky darkness between chimneys for what felt like ages as the crawling city wound beneath them. Sweetie Belle squinted into the shadows, trying desperately to find some shred of their guide. “Look over there!” she shouted, pointing with a free hoof. In the distance, a river cut the city in two, and a thin, flying unicorn was gliding to a small inlet littered with building supplies surrounding an unfinished project.
The four trick-or-treaters sped up to the cloaked unicorn, landing in front of the building just as Moundshrouds’ cloak flitted closed around him. “Where’s Pip?” Sweetie Belle whispered to the shady unicorn.
“Where?” Moundshroud creaked, turning to face the foals and building. He slowly cantered between them to look up on the structure. “Why, hiding out of course.”
“Why is he hiding?” Scootaloo pondered.
“He’s protectin’ somethin’, ”Applebloom piped up.
Featherweight thought for a moment before cold realization sneaked into his brain. “He’s protecting his pumpkin, but why? What does it contain that is so important? His soul?”
Moundshroud turned over his shoulder to flash a steel grin towards Featherweight. “How observant of you skeleton, but to be precise, it’s my pumpkin now!” Turning back to the building, Moundshroud began to lankily slink about, leering left and right. “Come out, come out wherever you are!” he sang in wind fluted notes.
Moundshroud continued the advance until his left hoof fell into the structures’ shadow. Then, wide eyed he stopped, pocketing his smile and turning his gaze upwards. Moonlight, from the old jealous and yet pure moon, was shining down from the ancient orb as an all too familiar black stain glowered upon them. Moundshrouds’ cloak wrapped and clung about him as the unicorn sank backwards, repelled from the light and shadow.
He grimaced at the building and moon, until he noticed a little brown filly standing next to him. He turned dark hawk eyes upon her, wreathed with his steel talon smirk. “I have a riddle for you little monster!” he remarked, standing straight up next to her.
“Aw no,” Scootaloo cried. “Can’t ya ask somepony else, I hate riddles!”
“No no, little monster” Moundshroud cooed, and walking closer to the shadow bade Scootaloo forward. “Tell me little monster; what’s bigger than witches and devils? What’s so big that it holds back the night and nightmares? What’s bigger than demons and ghosts?” Moundshroud finished, flourishing his cape as he stood tall.
“Huh?” a stupefied Scootaloo asked, slack jawed. “Bigger?” she puzzled, rubbing the back of her head. She tried to turn the words over in her head. Technically, anything could be bigger than any of those physically, so what did Moundshroud really want? Maybe it was something more thoughtful, but what? She tried looking about; hoping that something might give a clue, but there was no way simple building equipment could hold something back like a demon! She scrunched her face tightly, trying to think, and then opened her eyes again. Yet again, all she could see was the base of some building in front of her.
She looked upon the foundation, noting the size, the breadth and width of the project. Then she realized the height; why, when this was complete, it could probably cast a shadow all over the city! Then she noticed the two stories of finished stone and masonry, and the answer came to her lips, “Oh! Cathedrals?!” She turned her smiling face to Moundshroud.
Moundshroud glinted a smile in return, “Well done little monster! Yes, when an idea gets big enough, and strong enough, with followers enough, why! Then all the followers start to believe that the idea is capable of anything! That could be something like divine protection, where a running colt could flee to and seek sanctuary! Sanctuary!” Moundshroud leaned back his head and let lose a raspy, wind strained call to the two unfinished towers above, “Sanctuary!”
Up above, a great brass bell began to ring, and in ringing, the dream ghost of the finished cathedral with two great towers materialized before them. “But where’s Pipsqueak?” demanded Featherweight.
“Help!” a metallic voice cried from above in answer.
“Pip? Is that you?” Scootaloo questioned.
Up in the wraith bell tower, a great bronze bell was ringing the hour, and instead of striker, the upside down form of Pipsqueak was seen, cracking his skull against the bell wall each time it rang. “Help me!” clang, crack! “Applebloom!” clang, crack! “Sweetie Belle!” clang, crack! “Scootaloo!” clang, crack! “Feathers!” clang, crack! “Hurry!” he shouted desperately.
Moundshroud himself blanched and shot up in surprise. “Alright! I have to admit! I did not expect that!”
The four foals fell about themselves, trying to figure out how to get up to Pipsqueak as fast as possible. “Wait! We’ll fly up!” Sweetie Belle chirped. She hopped upon her broom and with a jump ordered “Up!” Moments later she met the stone cobbled again. “Huh?” she squeaked, “Why didn’t that work?”
“Oh dear,” Moundshroud moaned, green light assessing the tied sticks. “It seems they are all out of magic. Zip! Bam! Poof! Gone! Seems we’ll need another way to reach Pipsqueak” he mused. Moundshroud scanned the area until he realized a stairway leading up. “Oh! I have an idea foals! Why not build the cathedral tonight? Climb the stairway and I’ll cast a spell on the stones to follow!”
“What?” Applebloom interjected.
“Are you crazy?” Scootaloo almost screamed.
“Technically, we are all a little mad somewhere” Moundshroud retorted. “But I am being dead serious; simply run and the magic will take care of the rest. Off with you!”
“Please!” Pipsqueaks’ voice cried down. “Hurry!”
The four friends forgot the insanity that was Mr. Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud, and hurried to the closest stairway. Moundshroud cackled to himself and clopped his hoofs to the stones before stepping forward slowly. “Good! Good! It seems we are getting warmer!” His eyes shot open as he realized the shadow was spread over him and backpedaled out with no small sense of urgency.
“I something Wrong, Mr. Moundshroud?” Scootaloo taunted.
“Yeah!” interjected Sweetie Belle. “You flew half the night to catch Pipsqueak!”
“So why aren’t ya goin’ to get him?” Applebloom glared.
“Well foals,” Moundshroud lurked under his cloak. “First off, it’s you, not me who must save him, and second…well…there are simply some places where I am not as welcome as others.” Moundshrouds’ eyes flashed for a moment as a thought came to him, “Oh! Maybe you could collect Pipsqueak for me!”
“Please!” a metallic ring came from above, “For the sake of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna hurry!”
Scootaloo gathered herself and hovered to the stairway. “Come on guys! Pip is counting on us!” She led the parade to the top of the stairs, then halted just at the edge. Stone ground against stone in the courtyard below, undulating in waves of anticipation. “Um,” she wavered, “You coming Mr. Moundshroud?”
Moundshroud nervously laughed in his throat while a green light emanated from his horn and was echoed by the stones. “Oh, you know I am always with you! Now, um, carry on!”
Scootaloo peered down the stairway; it was a lot higher than she thought, and far more menacing with stone instead of trees to pad your fall! “Leap! Run! They will follow!” crowed Moundshroud. Scootaloo glanced back to her dubious friends as Moundshroud again encouraged, “Step lightly!” Scootaloo chewed her lip a bit, then jumped off the edge!
She sat there in the air for a moment, and when gravity began to reclaim her, she hurriedly set her wings into overdrive. This kept her floating for a moment before she began to fall, a scream starting from her throat and her friends’ throats. Just as she began to lower the level of the last step in the staircase, a green-lined stone shot up from the ground to secure itself under her! Legs turned jelly in fright, Scootaloo collapsed onto the stone in relief. “Bravo!” Moundshroud applauded from below.
Scootaloo, after waiting a while to catch her breath, extended one more hoof over the edge, to have yet another stone secure itself under her. She smiled and did it again, and again, gaining more confidence and speed as the stones were summoned under her. The troupe began to run behind her, and it seemed that they ran on pure windy moonlight; only to have bricks and stones and timbers and mortar, shuffle like cards, deal themselves solid, and take form between their legs and hooves. Moundshroud cackled madly, as the cathedral began to take on its final form, as great walls and doors flung into place. A set of stone scholars and saints resided on the base level, while great flying buttresses flew out to stand like soldiers, holding up the roof. Steeples, shingles, and stained glass partitioned themselves where the ponies couldn’t run, and twinkled and shone in the faint moonlight.
Moundshroud was retreating the whole time as the shadow began to grow, but still provided the stones necessary. Just as the right bell tower was being finished, Moundshroud sneered towards the moon, “Oh! Enough!” Lighting his horn up brighter than ever before that night; Moundshroud closed his dark eyes and craned his neck back. A fell wind blew his cloak about him, and lightning cracked in the distance. Dark clouds began to swirl and tumble across the sky, as the shadows of darkness began to run rings around Moundshroud. Quickly, the clouds blinded the alicorn-stained moon, closing her jealous eye upon Moundshroud. Lightning cracked about as Moundshroud sized up his hoofwork, “Much better! Much better!” Unhindered, he began up the steps to the great cathedral doors.
The left bell tower was being finished as the four foals collapsed, trying to catch their breath. After a few moments, Featherweight shakily rose, “Did anypony see Pip?”
“Nope, and he wasn’t in any of the bells!” Scootaloo groaned. “Seriously! I checked them all!”
Applebloom looked dejectedly over the wall to the still sleeping and dreaming city. Her eyes began to concentrate upon a bridge spanning the river. “Hey! Doesn’t that over thar look familiar?”
Sweetie Belle looked to where Applebloom pointed, a possible answer coming to her mind. She then walked to the walls edge and looked over, realization starting to light her features. “We built Notre Atessa! We’re in Pearis, Prance!”
“Ah, no!” moaned Applebloom. “No more French!”
“Notre Atessa?” Scootaloo asked before making her way to the wall. “No way this is Notre Atessa!” she dubiously eyed the empty perches and niches.
“Why not?” Featherweight asked.
“Don’t you see what’s missing?” Scootaloo deadpanned. When she was met with a blank stare from Featherweight she sighed and facehoofed. “Monster faces!”
“Oh!” Sweetie Belle added, “Stone devils!”
Applebloom began to wave her front hooves overhead, “Marble demons!”
“Gargoyles!” a strained voice half growled, half fluted from a clawed shadow behind them. Moundshroud rose from the shadow with a flourish, “Ever wonder why we like to dress up as monsters, beasts, and ornery critters?”
The ponies looked to each other before Scootaloo wrung an answer out. “I just put this costume on because I thought I could scare somepony with it.”
“And rightly you could have!” Moundshroud happily began. “But tell me little monster; why is it that all monsters are feared? Does it have to do with the body parts; the eyes, teeth, padded paws, razor claws, or silent wings maybe? What do these things come from, eh?”
Scootaloo puzzled over the question for a moment before remembering the shifting hieroglyphs in the pyramids. “Could it be, because all these body parts came from some predator of the old ponies?”
“Well done monster!” Moundshroud crooned. “Yes! Monsters remind us of all the dark times in all the dark places and all the old fears and nightmares of the past; of our ancestors past!” With that he nodded to the sky, where a horned, clawed, and fanged shadow crept with lightning eyes across the sky. The foals shivered together. “Now why is it we decorate on of the most impressive and glorious of buildings, Notre Atessa, ‘Our Highness”, with so many monsters? Because these monsters were once used against others!”
“That’s right my little trick-or-treaters! The gargoyles of Notre Atessa were once the protectorate daemons of cults all across Equestria! But what happens when a greater good arrives? One that doesn’t need sacraments to protect you? Why, now the monsters are out of a job! So we gave them a job here; protect our greatest gift to the Princess and live here forever, never to be forgotten. Now foals, we must call the protectors of this place, they won’t come otherwise!”
“Call monsters here?” Scootaloo jumped back. “And just how do you expect us to do that?”
“Give them a signal, anything, for they await your summons little monster.”
“Well, I guess if you had to call one, it would be like calling a pet or something” she said, thinking to herself. “Only thing is, I don’t have a pet yet.” She looked for aid from her friends.
“Well,” began Applebloom, “When Ah wanna call Winona, we usually shout her name, or whistle.”
“I guess it’s worth a shot.” Scootaloo gathered herself and marched to the edge. Stopping at the eave, she gulped air, and gave an ear-piercing whistle from between her teeth.
The unemployed of all midnight Equestria shivered in their stone slumber and came awake.
Which is to say that all the old beasts, all the old tales, all the old nightmares, all the unused demons and legends, quaked at the call, reared at the whistle, trembled at the summons, and in spectral dust devils of propulsion skimmed down roads, rattled though shaken trees, forded streams, swam rivers, pierced clouds, and arrived, arrived, arrived.
Which is still to say, that all the dead statues and idols of Equestria lying like a dreadful snow all about, abandoned in ruins, gave a blink and star and came as salamanders on the road, or bats in the skies, or wolves in the brush. They flew; they galloped; they skittered.
Obediently, the demons clawed their way up the walls, to perch upon eaves, lurk in niches, and hang from gutter corners. Dark forms sat on stone, only to have the whip crack of lightning snap down, and strike them in place with a feral, bestial, shrieking call.
“Little monster!” Moundshroud crowed. “There is your carved stone quarry!”
“Well, now the cathedral is complete” Scootaloo smugly smiled.
“A-a-a-a-appppleeeeebloooom! Sweeeeeeeeeetieee Belllllllllle! Scoooooootaaaaloooo! Featttthhhhhhhhhers! Heeeeeellllllp!” a shaky, stone voice whispered.
“Where are you Pip?” Featherweight asked, searching with his friends over the walls.
“Ooooooooooover here!”
The foals looked to the left, and two levels down, clinging to a gutter spout was a carved, winged image of Pipsqueak, clutching his pumpkin and spouting water from his mouth. Without waiting for an invitation, the foals began to climb over the slick stones and over to their petrified friend. “Caaaaaan youuuuuu heaaaaar meeeeee? Iiiiiiiiii’m scaaaaaaared!”
The foals gathered under him, “It’s gargoyle language! He can only talk when the rain comes out of his mouth, or the wind blows over his teeth!” Scootaloo exclaimed.
“Let’s get him down fast!” Featherweight said. However, no matter how they reached, or hovered, their friend was just out of reach.
“No cutting in line!” a levitating Moundshroud called down. “Plenty for all! One at a time?”
After a couple more reaches, Scootaloo bolted upright. “Now wait a minute gang! Mr. Moundshroud, I’m the only live gargoyle here right?”
“Indeed.”
“And I answered all your riddles right?”
“Again, indeed.”
“And I learned why we wear costumes like mine right?”
“Again, indeed little monster!”
“So it’s up to me,” Scootaloo mused. “Applebloom, to the left of me! Sweetie Belle, to the right! On my mark you lift me up on your backs!”
“You mean like that time we tried to be acrobats!” Sweetie exclaimed.
“Yes, but don’t think about what happened afterwards” Scootaloo answered, rubbing her flank in a painful memory. “Now on my mark! Ready! Set! Go!” Scootaloo was hoisted into the air by her closest friends, only again to come short of the height requirement. “I need more reach! Alright, again on my mark, you two prop yourselves up on the walls and I’ll stand on your shoulders! Ready! Set! Go!” Scootaloo jumped and hovered for a second as Applebloom and Sweetie Belle set up. She reared and touched down on their shoulders, and Sweetie Belles’ hoof slid for a second. Scootaloo yelped and tumbled forward, bad memories returning, arms pin wheeling, until she latched onto Pipsqueaks’ pumpkin. “Oh Pip! What happened to you?”
“I think I’m dyyyyyyyyyyying!” the statue gurgled.
“Oh no you aren’t allowed to!” Scootaloo ordered. “Now you listen to me! That isn’t going to happen! We have a lot still to do! And besides, I never got to thank you. Remember the time we tried to get our cutie marks in firework making? I smuggled the powder into my house and hid it under my bed.”
“Yeah, burned your bed and walls out! Good thing you live on the seeeeecond floooor!”
“Yeah, well, you took the blame for me, and I never thanked you. I mean, I was so sure my mom would be furious, and she just had you repaint the room for us. Really, that means a lot to me!”
“You mom is a really nice pony Scootaloo, you really should spend more tiiiiimmmeeee with her!”
“You know,” Scootaloo thoughtfully looked down, “you’re right.”
“Scootaloo!” sang Moundshroud from above. “Toss is right up here, two points!”
“I’ve got to go now Scootaloo” Pipsqueak mourned.
“No Pip I won’t let you go!” As Scootaloo tried to pull herself up by his pumpkin, a crack broke around the stone gourd. The moment it broke away, the jack-o-lantern regained color.
“No!” screamed Pipsqueak as both gourd and friend fell away. Lightning struck him, and the once again transparent ghost of Pipsqueak flew after his pumpkin!
Scootaloo safely landed upon the statue of a great winged gargoyle. Lightning flashed again, and the statue came alive under Scootaloo. It dove after Pipsqueak, with Scootaloo scrambling for a grip on its wide shoulders. When Scootaloo pulled up on the neck, she found the gargoyle yielded to her. With a determined grimace, she leaned forward, encouraging the gargoyle as well. “I’m coming Pip!”
Pipsqueak caught the pumpkin, and with another spin, was wheeling with stars into the sky. The other three friends were tore from the wall with a wind, and fell upon three more gargoyles. Three more flashes of forked lightning, and they too were off flying after Scootaloo and Pipsqueak. “Come on gang!” Scootaloo called back, “We can’t lose him now!”
As the foals followed their friend into the clouds, Moundshroud flitted his watch back into the pocket from whence it came. “There’s no escape!” The cloak snapped about him as rings of lightning sped about. Launching into the air, the forked legs ran along the cloud tunnel, spider webbing him with cloak billowing and sailing into the night. “I’ll chart his course to a final graveyard!”