//------------------------------// // Chapter 4: The Obelisk // Story: Zenith // by The Descendant //------------------------------// Chapter 4: The Obelisk The surface of the rock was cold. That she knew. It had been covered with a thin sheen of snow before she had found her place upon it, and the feel of it still sat there, keeping her company even after long minutes had passed. She had wiped it away as best she could with her claws, but the heavy, wet snow of early spring had left much moisture there. The fur of her winter coat struggled to keep her warm, and she clamped her wings down harder against the chill. Still, she thought, she’d rather be sitting in the cold. She’d rather face the cold, lay upon this rocky crag, than be in those streets. She’d rather be up here in the breezes that drifted through the pass than down there in the city. That she knew. Her eyes settled on the lodges of her kind, and as they did she laid down fully upon the rock. Her talons went out in front of her, following the long, smooth surface of the rock, wiping away the few streaks of wetness that remained behind. She laid her head in her forearms, clacked her beak a few times, and then let her gaze fall upon the city. The lodges and cottages of the different clans sat there, the ornaments upon each reaching high into the night sky, as though the trim of each home and great hall were fighting to escape the thick, wet blanket of old snow that still sat over the city. Her tail flicked behind her, wiping across the cold stone that lay beneath her. Her wings wrapped around her tighter, and she drew her rear legs beneath her in an effort to hide from the cold. Still, her eyes swam in the sight of the firelight that flickered across the windows of Onttovuori. It was so beautiful from up here… but only from up here. That she knew. The griffon hen lifted her head out of her forearms and looked up to the sky beyond. There, over the pass through the mountain, the stars shone in the pristine clarity of the night sky. They shone like pearls thrown across velvet, twinkling far away from where the light of the fires could reach them. The hen’s feathers tossed on the cold breezes, and she huddled against them. Her eyes remained on the stars, though. Her keen eyes searched them, wondering if there were any secrets in them that they would share with her. She wondered if there were any clues about who she was supposed to be, what she was supposed to do. There were none. Instead, the winds just carried over the pass as she sat there, buffeting her as they always had. She looked to the gap at the lee of the mountain, and then laid her head across her claws once more. If anything other than wind were to ever come over that pass, she’d be very happy for it. She would be very happy for it indeed. That she knew. ------------------------------------------ Flee! That word, that one plea that sat upon the letter at her hooves, that singular, terrified appeal... it raced to Twilight as she looked upon Spike. Flee! The obelisk. It was a weapon, one fueled by fear, one that Sombra had brought here. Flee! The word raced through her as an oval space above the dragon came alive, something rising through the darkness of the onyx . As it did, the warmth drained out of Twilight, and what she saw horrified her. It was an eye… it unfolded as a green eye that cast itself down over her little assistant. Flee! Flee, flee, flee! Twilight brayed Spike’s name out into the dark. As Spike looked over his shoulder, she saw him realize that he was being watched, that he was being studied. Everything else fell away. The baffling discovery of Celestia’s mark, the presence of Sombra’s magic, the meaning behind the older runes… they meant nothing. They became nothing to her as she saw the eye catch upon him, as Spike shrunk down to the thin ledge upon which he had been sitting. This thing, the obelisk… it was filled with Sombra’s will. Who better for it to be directed against, she suddenly realized, than the one who had freed his crystal slaves? “Spike!” she screamed as her wings went wide, repeating her cry over and over as she launched forward through the cords of green mist and into the growing power of the obelisk. Around her the dust and mist rippled in tune with a new thrum from within the stone, and it lingered over her, catching around her as a single unfathomable tone that hung around the chamber. In her mind it was nothing. She powered through it without noticing, pushing forward through the cascading waves of malice with ease, the full powers of an Equestrian alicorn coming alive in her body. She would not allow it to harm Spike. She would not allow it. She missed her guess, and it was not Spike who was truly in danger. The eye stared down over Spike, the little dragon skittering along the ledge as he attempted to escape its gaze. Around him the thrumming arose as a single deep, resonant note that filled the chamber. He struggled to catch his breath, struggled to find his grip as the eye stared down over him from within its onyx window, from beyond the surface of the smooth, black panel. There was a crackling behind his ears, behind his eyes. Even as he continued to fight for breath, Spike felt something move inside him. Something… speaking… “H-hello?” he wheezed. To his amazement, the eye blinked. “No, Spike, no!” came the most familiar voice to him in the world, rushing in to fill all of the great, vast holes that had opened in his perceptions. There was a rush of wings, and a haze of purple light wrapped around him, drawing him into her open forelegs. In a moment she had gathered him up, pulling him into the safety of her body. Twilight set her sight on the rise above, and the faintest glimpse of the white stairwell beyond greeted her. Flee! Yet, even as she spun she felt the gaze of the eye shifting, and it fell across her instead. In one tiny, imperceptible moment her hoof fell across the very ledge that she had just pulled Spike from. She had barely brushed it, had barely even touched it… … but it was enough. Twilight fell slack, and in her mind she felt something crackling behind her ears, something moving behind her eyes. It reached out for her, calling to her inside her own mind, and the startling force of it dropped her out of the air. “Wah, Twi!” Spike called, and soon they were spinning through the air, and then tumbling along through the ancient dust. As the deep, echoing sound drove on around them, Twilight fought to return to her hooves. As soon as her boots had clattered against the stones the green light of the eye was over her, catching across her coat and shining upon the jewels of her crown. Suddenly, she was not alone inside her own mind. The doors of her mind flew open, and an unknown traveler simply strode within. It... it was not Sombra, nothing about the intruder suggested that defeated tyrant. No, no it was somepony... something else. It was something that should not be here in the private sanctuary of her logical, analytical mind. Something drifted words over her that she did not know, but whose meaning settled across her, filled the corners of her consciousness. Kdo to sedí přede mnou? Jaké je tvé jméno? Twilight trembled, shook. Her mind was opened, as though some force were sitting among her rational thoughts, as though some stranger had just simply walked into her little home in the library and had begun to flip through her albums, had opened her journals, was rifling through her secrets. She fell to the floor, trembling, shaking as the intruder settled into her mind like a trespasser simply walking around with her most precious memories, picking up threads of her thoughts and placing them back down just inches from where they had long been set. Jaké je tvé jméno? “I’m… I am T-Twilight Sparkle,” she stammered, trying to steady herself as she quaked in fear and pain. In a moment, a comforting set of hands had wrapped itself around her shoulders, and even as she sat quaking she turned her head to find Spike looking at her, fighting to move closer to her. He was limping. Had he been hurt in their fall? All that she knew was that his eyes were wide, wider than she’d ever remembered seeing them. “Spike,” she whimpered, “there’s… it’s in my mind, I can hear…” “Me too, Twi,” he said, placing his hand to her forehead, “I c-can hear it too… b-but I don’t understand what it’s…” They flinched in unison, and the eye seemed to settle across them once more. Buď pozdravena, Twilight Sparkle. Pověz, poslal-li tě můj pán? Máš Zenith? “Twi! Twi, I don’t understand!” Spike called, his voice showing as much concern as his arms. “I... I do,” she said. “I... I can understand, b-but I don’t know what…” Inside her own mind, Twilight turned to face the intruder, to face the nameless, shapeless figure that walked around in her innermost sanctuary. “W-what, please, what do you mean ‘Zenith’? W-what, who is your master?” The response crackled across her mind, and she and held Spike closer as the answers sat heavily across her waking thoughts. Na tom nezáleží. Na ničem ve skutečnosti nezáleží. Ovšem že to vidím sám. Ptám se jen ze slušnosti... avšak vidím. Je mi líto, nemám jinou možnost. Opravdu nemám jinou možnost. “Please,” she whimpered as tears formed in her eyes. She clutched her little dragon tighter, pulling him closer and closer as the intruder left muddy footprints across her mind, upsetting chairs and making only small insincere motions of putting them back. Spike shuddered, the same voice and presence walking amid his thoughts, and the dragon fell into her embrace like a child reeling in the sight of a stranger. Nemáš Zenith. Nejsi ten, kdo si mne přivlastnil, nejsi můj pán a nemáš Zenith... The light faded, and Twilight could only force herself to breathe as the violation seemed to fade away, as though the intruder had slipped off into the basement of her library home, leaving the phonograph playing, a partially eaten sandwich on the kitchen counter, and Spike standing by her side as they listened to him shuffling along beneath them. “Twilight, Twi… I don’t like it! Twi, make it stop!” Spike said, pushing his face deeper into her chest as they sat there in the gaze of the distant eye. “What does it want, Twi?! What is it saying? Make it stop!” “I... I don’t know, Spike. It keeps talking about something… something called ‘Zenith’, and a master…” At once they were forced down again, and as the note held its deep tone around the pair, the eye caught them in their gaze once more. This time there were no words. This time it examined her, opened her, forced itself upon her. Deep inside of her Twilight could feel the eye pulling on the very tethers of her soul, testing them, seeking the golden cords that bound her to those she loved most in the world. She screamed. “Leave her alone!” called out a child’s voice. “Please, she didn’t do anything to you! L-leave her alone! Please, leave her alone!” Alicorn… The word needed no translation, and as Twilight fought to remain on her hooves Spike steadied her, calling her name and brushing his hand through her mane. Spike tried to help Twilight move away, but instead he slipped on something that sat on the floor. He looked down to the smooth stones to find the letter from Celestia sitting there, covered with the dust. Upon it sat the one word, the single reply that only now was revealed to him. Flee! Ten thousand thoughts, none of them good, fell through the little dragon. At once he understood. His eyes lifted to his best friend, lifted to the heaving form of the alicorn fighting to stay steady, and then to the obelisk beyond. “Twi! Twi, we have to go! We have to go, Twi!” Spike called, pulling on her foreleg. Twilight slowly stood, her breathing ragged and uneven. “Y-yes, Spike, we h-have to go… we have…” The sense of violation, of being inhabited, settled across them again. Inside Twilight it dove deeply, and the words that she could not decipher erupted inside of her as a feeling of darkened discernment once more. Je skutečně alicorn a je věrnou Princezny slunce. Není známá mému pánu… Twilight fell forward again, nearly toppling across Spike. “Please,” she called out to the force within, “I don’t know what you mean! Y-yes, I’m an alicorn, and Princess Celestia is…” “Twi, what is it saying?! What does it want?!” Spike called, trying desperately to understand what could possibly be going on, desperately trying to find some little bit of anything he could do or say to help. “I-I don’t understand,” she whispered, fighting to find some confidence buried within her, as though searching the disheveled remains of her fortitude for some inner strength. All at once, it was torn away. Tomuto alicornu je souzeno zemřít. Twilight froze in place, her expression going ashen as the words that were falling through her mind revealed their intent. “Twi?” Spike pleaded, holding her hoof, attempting to guide her forward. She neither moved nor spoke. Twilight simply took a few more ragged breaths, and in her expression Spike saw something horrible, something that nearly leveled him. Her expression betrayed fear… the fear that only powerlessness can bring. Tento alicorn není znám mému pánu a ten, kdo si mne přivlastnil, vyjádřil svoji vůli jasně. Ubohá… je odsouzena k smrti. Tomuto alcornu je souzeno zemřít... “No,” Twilight breathed, the word hanging across Spike’s shoulders as a heavy, moist breath of disbelief. … jsem donucen ji zabít. “Nooo! No, please! I haven’t done anything to you! There must be some kind of mistake… a, a misunderstanding! Please!” she called. She struggled to move forward, her body shaking on unsteady hooves. Her eyes fell to Spike, and then clenched shut even as he pulled harder on her hoof, trying to guide her away from the spire, away from whatever was inside their minds. “No, please! It has to be a mistake!” Twilight called again, her voice breaking and falling, leaving her with a single sob. “Please,” she implored, “please, I haven’t hurt you! There’s no reason why you… why you should have to k-kill me!” Spike’s world dropped out from under him. His eyes went wide, and his hearts froze. Twilight’s hoof trembled in his hand, and at once he went to his knees, trying to look into her face. Her eyes came open, and in them Spike saw every emotion that he’d fought against seeing in her his whole life. In them sat every bad day they’d ever had, every disappointment, every moment she had doubted herself. In her eyes sat every time he’d watched her fail, every time she’d been reprimanded, every time she’d felt small and powerless. All of these sat there, multiplied over and over. Every time she’d ever been afraid. “Spike,” she whispered. Tomuto alicornu je souzeno zemřít. Her scream filled the chamber. It filled the dark, misty well over which the obelisk and its eye held immutable dominion, and Spike was left holding her boot. Before his very eyes his best friend was swept off into the darkness. “Twilight!” he yelled, racing forward into the dark. Around him the mist began to condense, to draw against itself until it fell down as a rain of green. It draped across him, and in it he felt sandpaper, sawdust, the fine remains of etched glass. Souzeno zemřít. “Twilight!” Spike called, running to her as the intruder wandered around his mind. The saddlebags appeared out of the dark, and he tripped across them, the dragon sprawling out across the dust and grime with a cry of pain. He yelled for Twilight, her screams flying through the dark, and leapt to his feet. New pain erupted through his leg, and he stumbled about even as he chased the horrid sound of her shrieks. Deep tracks sat beside him, furrows carved in the dust. Twilight’s voice reached out through the dark, and arcs of her purple aura flashed through the darkness, revealing the outline of an alicorn locked in battle with the forces that assailed her. “Twilight! Twilight!” Spike called, springing forward to grasp her. At once his hands were around her again, and his feet fought for purchase. As they did the pelting rain of magic fell across the stones, across his hands, making his hold on her loosen. Souzeno zemřít. The magic that opposed them, it was too much, and in an instant she slipped from his grasp. Her one sharp cry filled the room, and her wings came unfurled from her back in wild, unmatched strokes. At once there was a clang, a high, sharp note that lifted above the deep thrum that still reverberated around the towering obelisk. Spike looked through the trail of dust and hovering darkness to see Twilight strike upon the surface of the obelisk, centered across the image of Sombra, and beneath the eye. As her remaining boots beat against the surface they sang out in metallic tones, matching the cadence of the deep thrum. Her breath escaped her as she felt herself being pressed into the surface of the obelisk, the cold expanse thrumming against her back. Twilight went to breathe, to give her time to engage her intellect. But, no breath came. No air met her, and inside of her panic grew anew… and soon she realized that what little air was still inside of her was being squeezed out. Her life was being pressed out of her. Her body begged, pleaded for air. She fought for it, begged for it, but it simply would not come. Desperate flickers of light that erupted from her horn, she could not draw a breath. Something else moved there, drawing out more than just her air. It settled upon her, and panic swept through Twilight just as she needed her mind the most. Her eyes flew around, and she caught sight of her ribs showing through her coat, and between them dark furrows of her own withering flesh grew stark against the lavender. Tears exploded from her, images swept through her mind, and pain settled deep within the alicorn’s body. Cries lingered across her lips, dying there without air to give them voice. Small rivers of pain cascaded across Twilight as her lungs burned and her body screamed around her. Her world grew dark, and with one last pathetic squeak… “No! Nooo! Leave her alone! Leave her alooone!” Claws skittered across the ledge of the obelisk, and above her a wild cry filled the chamber. At once there was the dearly familiar feeling of a boy’s grasp, one that rocketed life back into her. “Raawwwrrrrrr!” came an animalistic roar. It was small, childish, but there was force in it, a power welling from some place deep inside of her little dragon. To the utter surprise of both, they once more went toppling to the floor, tumbling across one another and through the dust at the base of the obelisk. Twilight’s body fought for air, pulled it in with deep gulps, hacking and sputtering. The dust, the grime, her sweat, her tears… these all mixed across her face, covering her in a thick film of grey. Her vast, wondrous, logical mind fought for something solid, something in all of her years as a student, something from all of her experiences that could aid her. As the eye fell across her once again, she found nothing. Souzeno zemřít. There was a little tug, and she gave another cry. Yet, to her surprise, it came not from behind, from the obelisk, but from before her… from where Spike had fallen. Twilight opened her eyes to find him wrenching off her last foreleg boot. Her eyes focused on him as he tripped past her, towards the eye beyond. “Spike,” she whispered. “Stop it!” he cried at the spire, tears streaming down his face, ones that mixed with the green rain that drizzled around them. “Stop it! Leave her alone!” With a stumble, a limp, and a heave he tossed her boot at the distant eye. It was a frail attempt to help her, to save her, and he cried out as he did. His cry filled the well, climbing high as the boot lurched from his little clawed hands. He missed by a mile. The green eye wavered, watched as the golden boot sailed past it, and then settled back across the little dragon. After an awkward moment the sound of the boot falling to the ground rang out through the darkness, rattling around like a tin can before sitting still. “Shoot,” came a little voice, and then the sound of a child falling to his knees. Twilight heaved, straining for breath as she fell over onto her side. Turning her body she saw a pathetic sight. The thrumming dropped down as the eye simply held its gaze over the figure of a tiny dragon. Moments passed, and even as she watched she almost sensed the eye… changing… “P-please,” Spike said, holding his hands together, supplicating himself before the eye, wringing his hands and holding them up to whatever power sat inside the obelisk. “Please stop hurting her, please?” he said, his voice a mix of fear and confusion. “She’s my best friend. Please. Please, she didn’t do anything to you. Please let her go. She’d never hurt anypony… anybody.” Little droplets of green magic fell around him, catching in the trails of tears that fell down his face. His left hand came out, touching her leg, as though attempting to show the eye that she could be trusted. “Please?” he implored once more, standing and raising his arms. “Can’t ya just let her go? She’s a good pony, she’s smart and nice and her friends love her so much. S-she’s all I got. Please, please, please let her go. Please?” The eye seemed to waver for a moment, and then it fell over him once more. Spike tensed, and now he too felt what Twilight had felt, the perfect sense of violation, the inhabiting of his very mind. Spike felt as though he was in his little bed back in the library. Some stranger was sitting beside him, in the dark, watching him as he pretended to be asleep, as he gripped harder upon his blanket. At once this cloud lifted, and Spike found himself once more back in the well, begging for Twilight’s life. Věrný služebník. Pravý věřící. Pravý přítel. “I don’t understand any of the word-sound-thingies you’re making!” called Spike, bouncing from one clawed foot to the next and back, waving his arms through the air in a perfect, frantic mix of confusion and frustration. He stopped as the voice filled the chamber once more, his arms going across his stomach as the words fell through him. Je mi to tak líto, maličký, ale nemám nad tím žádnou moc. Je to mé prokletí. Je mi to tak líto... tak moc líto… “Please,” Spike begged once again, not understanding the meaning of the words, only sensing the barest of context behind them… only sensing the feeling of loss and pain that dwelt over the chamber. … ale tvé přítelkyni, tomuto alicornu, je souzeno zemřít. “Oh no,” he breathed, sensing the failure of his attempt. Even as he began to turn, even as his hands went back around Twilight, the dragon wrapping her in his arms, something snapped at his memory. Inside the dragon the promise came back to life, the one spoken as something akin to a joke. The promise to protect her… … he had promised to protect her. “Spike,” she whimpered. “Twi, we have to…” he began, but overhead a new sound reached them, and the deep note of before was renewed. A great, deep groan erupted around them, and at once there was the sound of stone scraping against stone. Tomuto alicornu je souzeno zemřít. The walls of the well began to collapse, and behind them there was a calamitous sound, the sound of rock crumbling and stones rending. Great, vast tiles of onyx began to fall from the ceiling, shattering around them. Spike threw himself over her face, and dust washed over them. For long moments it continued. There were swirls of dust and the deafening, thundering booms of stone crashing through the chamber. There were the sounds of earth falling away and something vast moving under some unknown power. The dust hovered there, but as the sounds receded something joined it there in the depths. Sunlight. Sunlight streamed into the chamber, coming, it seemed, from a space beyond. Spike blinked, both removing the dust from his eyes and wincing in the shafts of light that dropped through the haze. Sunlight. Free. They could get free. “Twilight,” he coughed. “C’mon, Twi, it’s the sun… we can get out!” Twilight stirred beneath him, and as he uncovered her she too blinked in the rays of the distant sun. “W-we can get out,” she whispered, her face coming alive with hope. “Spike, we…” It was a foolish notion, a false hope. Souzeno zemřít. There was the sound of the cracking of whips, of lashes being dealt, and at once two tendrils had thrown Spike off of her, crashing him against some of the fallen stones. Souzeno zemřít. With that they began to push her away, push her towards the distant light. Not towards the freedom it had promised, but into some new fate. The cords wrapped around her tighter, and the black and green of the coils showed in stark contrast to her lavender coat. “No, no!” Spike called aloud, and once again he was bounding off after her, grasping for her as she was pushed along, being dragged and tumbled along the dust and rocks. “W-why are you doing this?!” he screamed, looking back over his shoulder at the obelisk. Even as he tried to grab for her, even as her leg went slipping through his grasp, he berated the distant eye. “Just leave her alone!” Spike called, his voice breaking as he unsheathed his claws, as he tried to dig into the tendrils that pulled at her. Twilight’s magic came alive, bursting out around her in a ball of pure, unrestrained power. Spike fell from her. The tendrils wavered… and then were upon her once more. In an instant, Spike had stood, once more running to Twilight as her cries filled the space. Yet, even as he ran, he felt the eye upon him, gauging him. He spun around, his teeth bared, his arms stretched out beside him. His cry rose above all other noises, above Twilight’s own yells of fear, pain, and panic. “I hate you!” the child called, tears erupting from him, the little dragon forcing all of his emotions into his denunciation of the eye. “I hate you! I hate you, hate you, hate you! I haaattttteeeeee yooouuuuu!” With a bawl Spike spun around once more, pelting off after Twilight, wrapping his arms around her waist, digging his teeth into the black tendril. The taste of the dark magic sat deep in his mouth as he ripped at it, tore at it… … as his efforts did nothing. As the magic pulled her along they tumbled over the torn saddlebags, past the dust-covered letter and its plea for them to have fled. As they went he saw a great earthen ramp before them, a slope that had opened to the light above. Twilight screamed anew, and Spike’s eyes followed hers. The two tendrils, the embodiments of the magic, had reformed themselves. They had become serpents. They took on the form of vipers, ones that undulated and twisted around her as they carried her along. They had taken the form of the two stone snakes that had met them at the top of the stairs… the very same ones Spike had promised to protect her from. Twilight’s screams filled the chamber, and a great cloud of dust arose as they were pulled towards the surface and whatever fate awaited her. Below, the eye upon the obelisk held its gaze on them. It blinked, once, twice… and then began to fade. Souzeno zemřít. As it fell away it looked upon the screaming, writhing form of the little alicorn, and her even smaller dragon. It wavered for a moment, and then disappeared into the black recesses of the oval once more. Souzeno zemřít. With that, the chamber was quiet and still once more, just as it had been for the long millennia before an alicorn had been lured to her death, before a child had been made to watch. It took forever. It took long, horrible minutes. It dragged on, and on, and on. As Spike dug, spat, and bit, the vipers pulled them inexorably toward the light. They bounced off of rocks that sent them senseless. They tumbled over each other, falling out of each other’s grasp as their bodies howled in pain around them. They fell over loose stones, the heavy thud driving the air out of them, making lights and colors flash through their minds. On and on it went until the two were beaten, broken, and the light only drew nearer. “Stop it! Stop it!” Spike cried over and over, beating at the vipers with his fists, scraping them with his claws, biting them with his sharp teeth. He looked down across her, trying to think of anything he could do, trying to find some way to help Twilight. She, though, was beyond fear. She was in shock. Her eyes were wide, her pupils falling away into tiny purple points that seemed far, far away. At intervals light would erupt from her, her magic seeming to explode at random, spells seeming to fall out of her mind. Out of nowhere, one seemed to take hold, and Spike and Twilight tumbled from the grip of the vipers. “Twi!” he called, racing for her. “Twi, we have to telepor…” Twilight’s forelegs wrapped around him, and her horn came alight. In a moment of clarity the alicorn called upon her magic… … and it failed her. “Ah!” she called in one sharp shriek, and once more she went to the ground, rolling around in pain. “Twi!” he said, wrapping himself to her neck. “Twi!” In an instant the serpents were upon them again, and Twilight was wrapped deep in harsh coils of the darkest kinds of magic. All of the strength had gone out of him. He could do no more. He was only a little dragon. All he could do was drape his arms around her, place his hands beneath her head to keep the strike of rocks from reaching her, and call out her name as she called his back weakly, as though through a curtain of darkness. After terrible minutes they erupted into the light of the day beyond. A stone arch had opened, and as he blinked in the sunlight Spike realized that they were now back above ground, back out in the city of Pursopolis. They were high above where they had begun. The roof of the monolith stood out behind them. Now rough paving stones beat at them as they were dragged along, but not dragged far. Spike tried to look over Twilight’s head, to where they were being taken. His eyes went wide as he saw a long, narrow pool open before them. It was old, as old as the monolith. At its head sat a slab of onyx, one engraved with a silver symbol. It was that symbol, the same one as on the obelisk below, the one that seemed impossible. It was the sun of Celestia. Spike’s eyes fell to the pool. The waters looked putrid, filled with algae and the detritus of ages. They looked dark, shallow, and horrible. In his mind, Spike suddenly realized why they were going there, why the serpents were dragging her along. It was a water altar. It was a drowning pool. It was a place for the making of beautiful sacrifices, for killing without marks or blood. They were going to drown her. They were going to kill Twilight.