Nighttime has never been Derpy’s favorite time of day. Closing her blinds, turning on a light, and she would curl up in her blanket. She would do that if she were home, with all the commodities that came with. Sadly, the grey mare was outside, in the dark, stalking the barren outskirts of Ponyville alone. A nightmare she wished weren't forced upon her.
Each little sound was intensified in the cold air. A squirrel scurried by, making soft crunches that skittered away. Derpy jumped at these minor meet-ups. It wasn't just the other creatures out here that got to her. Her own taps on the individual stones of road were frightening. They were haunting knocks of the reaper pony ready to collect. This would normally be embarrassing in front of all her friends, but all alone it was just menial. Her mistakes would follow with an uproar of boisterous laughter; not here however.
Since Princess Celestia started this game, Derpy felt herself becoming more confident. The shock of making a mistake was no longer a weight on her. Nopony looked at her as a crutch. For the past few days, she has been extremely useful to her friends; participating in their plans, and gaining more confidence still. If this war didn't end, she wouldn't mind. It’s been quite enjoyable.
A passing moth landed on her nose, fluttering its wings slowly. Instantly, she jumped, cowering under her hooves. Not fun! Not fun!
“How adorable,” came a voice.
Derpy got up, fighting stance initiated. “Wh-Who’s there?” She asked.
“No one in particular,” it cooed. A rustling came from bushes up ahead. Derpy retrieved a blueberry from her pocket. Feeling around the rest, there wasn't much left to spare. Three coconut, one banana nut, a second blueberry; not enough to fend off more than one or two at most. Maybe one was enough, so she aimed the muffin at the bush, waiting.
A pony stumbled out of the bushes, making her way to Derpy. The lone mare was green – light, almost teal – with a lush mane of the same green, and white. She didn't have any of her pockets filled, and was alone as far as Derpy could tell. Not a threat so far. The mint green mare stopped short of a few feet away. “Hello there,” she said waving. “What’s going on out here?”
“N-Not much, you?” Derpy stuttered.
“Couldn’t be happier. Just thought I’d take a stroll while everypony is asleep. Guess not all were.” She cheerfully grinned at the statement, amused at her own observation. “So, what’s your name stranger?”
“Derpy. And yours?”
“Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings if you wanna be formal, but Lyra is fine. So Derpy, watcha doing here all alone? Seems a bit odd.”
Derpy was hesitant to answer. The mare was all-too happy to stalk up to her, and begin casually conversing. More than a few warning signs lit up, but she couldn't be sure how accurate they were. Lyra was being friendly, and wasn't threatening; so for now, she was safe to be around. Might as well play along. “I figured it would be safer to travel at night. Less chance to be ambushed if they’re all asleep, right?”
“Absolutely,” Lyra said.
“Why are you out here Lyra?”
The mint green pony lost her positivity for a second, but quickly cheered up. “About that...I’m looking for someone. Would you happen to know of a mare going by Bon-Bon? Round my height, pink and blue mane, chubby from all those sweets she stuffs down. I've been looking for her for a good day now. Getting worried.”
“Sorry, but I haven’t.”
Lyra covered her frown, dismissing Derpy’s answer like many others. “It’s cool. She’ll turn up eventually, I’m sure of it!” Lyra was quick to change moods; but then everypony had ways of dealing with grief. If she could find a way to be happy, then that was good. “Mind if we sit down over by that table? I've got something to tell ya, but it would be safer off the road.” She trotted to the stone table and seats, plopping down on one.
Another false flag buzzed in her head, but she ignored it. Lyra looked frightened to be on the road. Whether she’s on the run, or just plumb scared of roads, Derpy followed. She sat across from her, finding a comfortable spot on the cold seat. Looking at Lyra, the mare appeared oddly taller. Derpy took a peek under the table, and saw why. Lyra wasn't siting normally, she was sitting on her hind legs. She took notice to Derpy’s wonderment, shoving it off. “It’s weird I know, but I've found sitting like this comfortable.” Weird, but oh well.
“What did you need to tell me about?” Derpy asked.
“I need to warn you,” Lyra said closing their gap.
Derpy scrunched her face. “About what?” Her voice was higher than usual.
“You know how there are sides forming in this game?” Derpy nodded. “Well there are some groups forming under one individual. More than a handful are joining them every day. I've been warning passing ponies, like you, to be careful.” Lyra took on a sinister form. She wasn't just frightened; she was flat-out in terror.
“Who’s recruiting these groups?”
“No one knows!” Lyra stated. “They hid behind their followers, giving out orders to those most loyal. Whoever they are, they are sneaky as all crumbs. Their only known sighting was the first night. The one who spotted them disappeared. Other than that, nothing is known. They may not even be pony!”
This really shook Derpy’s nerves. To think a mysterious being was recruiting groups for their nefarious gain. Hiding in the dark, hunting at night; more reason to not like the night. A rustling in the darkness caught Derpy.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Lyra asked, confused.
“N-Nothing.” Just another squirrel most likely.
“Anyways, do you know where you’re headed? I just need to make sure you’re in good hands.”
“Hands?”
“Figure of speech,” she said.
“Not really. I was just going to wrap around the road until I met up with my friend again. We got separated.”
“Well I hope you find them,” she said leaping off the seat. “I gotta get going. Could be a chance I can find Bon-Bon tonight. See ya later Derpy.”
“See ya,” Derpy said back.
“Actually,” Lyra said. She rummaged through her pockets, levitating out a glove. The white, five-fingered piece inflated with a green aura surrounding it. Derpy was smacked hard with the glove, knocked out. “ I've got to hand it to you Derpy. You sure are gullible.” Lyra put away her weapon of choice, and levitated the unconscious mare with the same magical field. “You can come on out!” She shouted.
The bushes beyond the table split, with a blob of blue coming out. “It’s about time Lyra! I thought you’d never get her,” said the blue pony. She was bright blue, with a mane similar to her partner’s.
“Ya, well, you almost blew it,” Lyra said. She gave the new mare and annoyed glance. “Seriously Colgate, you’ve got to be more careful.”
“Later,” the blue mare named Colgate said. “For now we gotta take her in. Don’t wanna keep that witch waiting, or she’ll turn us into frogs!”
“She’s not a witch. That frog thing however...” Lyra imagined the squishy skin of those fingered amphibians.
Lyra – levitating Derpy – walked with Colgate to the witch.
---
Hushed whispers were transferred around Derpy, finally coming to. Her eyes squinted; she saw a crackling fire and cloaked figures. The eye trained on the fire also saw fresh dirt, tents propped on sticks, and trees. Minor detective analysis said she had been carried or dragged into the forest. Must have been Lyra she thought. Last thing she remembered was the green pony taking out a glove and smacking her aside. After that she was out for the count. First question would be why? Why would Lyra – who one second was the sweetest mare – knock her out and take her into the forest?
On the other hoof, who were these cloaked ponies? They talked amongst themselves, keeping her out of earshot. She lost interest in them, closing her eyes; her plan to get more sleep. After she did, something seemed off. The whispers had ceased. She was then being lightly shaken. “Wakey, wakey,” said Lyra. Derpy grudgingly woke up, and stood with help from Lyra. “Didn’t mean to hit you that hard, sorry.” She laughed, patting Derpy.
Sorry? Sorry! Derpy lunged at Lyra, knocking the both of them to the ground. She pressed down on Lyra’s throat until some of the cloaked figures pulled her off. Derpy was sat down, held off by the group. “Ya,” Lyra coughed, “...I deserved that.” She went near the outraged mare, patting her again. “Really, no hard feelings.”
Derpy scrunched her face, angry this time. “So that warning was a lie?” She pouted, furious. Her eyes – usually opposite of each other – were centered on her nose.
“Yes as a lie, to you. No to any other passerby.” She left it at that.
The other ponies didn’t speak to her. Lyra went off to a large tent near a boulder, where she disappeared inside. Derpy was left to stay in place, waiting for...whatever. While waiting, she got a good look at the campsite. Tents littered the area – some situated on small rises, between trees, in the way. Then were the massive amounts of millionmare bars...just an absurd amount of them trashed off to the side, becoming a mountain. Normally Derpy wouldn’t partake in the creamy chocolate, with vanilla filling and a gooey center of melted dark chocolate.
Who am I kidding; I would put illegal mail in every single one of their mailboxes for just a lick.
Lost in her wet dream of chocolate and hardcore wrappers, she didn’t notice Lyra had returned. She quizzically peered at Derpy, unsure if she should comment or back away. “Sorry to bother you, but we need to talk.” Derpy agreed, so they set off to the large tent. Inside, the tent was larger on the inside than the outside. It was filled with an assortment of creepy jars full of animal parts and other sickly fillings. A boiling cauldron was in the back, bubbling with green ooze. The puke green bubbles popped, and sizzled whatever was inside, boiling away.
The whole tent smelled of foreign spices and cultures. Wooden masks – resembling faces – hung on the walls. Besides the brains and legs, those had to be the creepiest objects in here. Who in the hay lives here?
“Welcome curious ponies, to my humble lair. I hope you won’t mind my messy hair.” From behind closed curtains came a familiar, striped zebra: Zecora. She strode in wearing a black drape. Her thick accent – hailing from a far-off land where tribes of other zebras lived – brought a flutter of calm to Derpy. Seeing old faces did that. “Now, why my mint mare did you send for a friend?”
“I just thought you’d like to meet our new bud before he did,” Lyra said, taking a confused Derpy under her arm.
Zecora nodded, stepping to the two ponies. The mystical zebra lifted Derpy’s hoof, inspected her mouth, and tested the flexibility of her spine. All of these weird examinations were met with more confusion. Lyra wandered off to the boiling cauldron, dipping a wooden ladle into it. After a few more checks, Zecora let Derpy reorganize herself. “I believe she is fine. Aside from being ragged, she’s simply divine.”
Placing the ladle back, Lyra came to Derpy’s side again. “So she’s good, right? Nothing wrong?” Lyra put emphasis on her condition, worriedly squeezing her side.
“If I had to say, with little doubt, and a hunch about, I’d have to guess...nay.” She tapped a solid hoof on the ground.
“Uh, what were you doing?” Derpy asked.
This time, Lyra and Zecora were at a loss for words. They exchanged worried glances, deciding on what to tell her. Zecora winked at Lyra, and left the tent, leaving them both. She tried to dodge Derpy’s lopsided gaze, but was unable to escape their curiousness. “No choice. Follow me,” she said leading them out. Derpy followed close by as they wandered passed glowing tents and shifty looks. She led them out of the campsite to a huddle of tents, dimly lit. Patiently waiting in front of one of them was Zecora. Noticing them, she shuffled inside it. Lyra stopped them from entering, putting a hoof to her mouth. “What we’re about to show you, you have to promise to keep zipped. Not a word.” The forewarning out of the way, she took them inside.
Derpy instantly saw why this tent – and possibly the rest – needed to stay secret. There were counters with dozens of bandages, gauze, bottles full of colored liquids, and books. Their pages were worn with damp ink that had been furiously scratches. Lyra however didn't bring her here to see colorful containers or the ravings of a mad pony. A bed placed in the center was the jewel of the desert. Situated awkwardly on it was a figure with an abnormally large head. The dim light didn’t shed much on its features, but blacks spots were covering it.
Lyra picked up the lantern, hovering it over the being. With the bright buzz of the bugs behinds, Derpy witnessed the grotesque horror before her. It was a pony...or used to be. Four limbs and a bulbous body said that it used to be such a creature. Its head was no longer that of an equine; the head puffed into a mushy cloud resembling a muffin. The spots were really berries attached. The muffin monster extended a mummified arm up, trying to reach for her. Derpy ran out before it could get a chance.
Heaving, she tried to retain her stomach. The thing’s face still fresh in her mind, she gulped down a heavy amount of spittle, able to keep it in. The tent flap swished open as Lyra came out. “You handling this okay? Disgusting, I know, but we feel you needed to see...it.” Her empathy was duly noted.
“What in the holy hay was that!?” Derpy freaked.
“A name we have not, for the beast on that cot,” said Zecora. She left the tent, turning the lantern low, and carrying it with her.
“She’s right,” Lyra said. “It’s still a mystery as to how they got that way. As you can see by the tents, it isn't getting any better. Some are in later stages than others, but there is no cure as of yet. When any of our ranks get them, they are taken here for study.” She mournfully glanced down. “That’s the real reason why we come out here, Colgate and I. We search for any outbreaks in this contagion.”
With all the craziness that’s occurred since Friday, Derpy didn't feel the way others did. Some – like Lyra – lost someone, and she’s desperately been searching for them. Then there is the loss of normal life. The ones who got infected are stuck to a bed, waiting out their hours before it takes control. All she herself has lost was Twilight; who could very well be fine. War isn't all fun and games.
“Miss Heartstrings!” A shout came from the campsite. Galloping to them was one of the hooded ponies. His eyes were wide with fear. Catching his breath, he spoke calmer. “Lyra, he’s here!”
“Who’s here, Wilt?
“Him!” He seethed.
Lyra shared the colt’s same fear, and ran towards the campsite. Derpy, Zecora, and Wilt followed, almost losing the frantic mare in the huddle of cloaks. Many of them were huddled around the area, biting their hooves, or hiding away somewhere. An assembly gathered near the boulder tent, on either side of it, guarding the path. Derpy and the rest found Lyra stationed at a small settling near the far right of the campsite. She was still frantically searching around, ready to have a heart attack. Under her breath she repeated worried words. A loud collective gasp from the crowd of shadowed ponies brought their attention frontwards.
On the boulder, two cloaked figures – one a mare with blood red fur and a fire crest, the other a colt with electric blue and a lightning bolt as his – stood opposite each other, leaving enough space for a third were they to show. The mare impatiently cleared her throat, loud enough to quiet the weary gathering. “It is time faithful subjects,” she shouted with a hearty rasp. Behind the duo, a third figure walked up. He – no she – was covered in dark blue and purple garments. It looked like a superhero in a filly’s comic; sporting a mask, large-brill hat, cape, and latex-like jumpsuit.
Derpy nudged Lyra, hoping for some answers. “Who’s that?”
Without looking to her, Lyra replied in a solemn, emotionless voice. “That,” she said. “That’s our leader.”