//------------------------------// // Barbastella // Story: Bats in the Old Apple Barn // by adcoon //------------------------------// “Long ago, on a mountain deep within the southern deserts of San Palomino, there lived a mare with the black wings of a bat and eyes like thin slits of silver.” Scootaloo looked between her two friends as she spoke, keeping their gazes upon her. “Ponies came to her from far and wide, traveling across desert and climbing up steep mountains with their newborns to see her. They would bring her fine gifts and many riches of gold and silver, gems, and great pieces of art. “The mare with the bat wings would ask them if they knew her name, and they would shake their heads and offer her more gold and riches, all the wealth they could afford, or sometimes more. The mare would close her tired eyes, caring nothing for all the gifts, and then she would look at the foal they brought, and she would speak its name and fate. “Many years went by. The riches grew to cover the mountain in gold and gems. A great empire arose around its base, growing rich and powerful on the soothsaying of the mare and the wealth the ponies brought her. And the mare, she cared nothing for it all. She knew every name of every pony, for she had given them the names herself, yet no pony had ever given her a name of her own.” “How mean.” Apple Bloom sipped her cocoa. “Why didn’t anypony just give her a name?” Scootaloo smiled. “Because,” she said slowly, “everypony knew that if anypony ever gave the mare a name of her own, she would never again do the same to another. As long as she had no name of her own, she had no choice but to speak the names of others. So they paid her in wealth instead, and the wealth grew and fed the greedy empire below. “Then one day a young couple came to the mountain from distant lands, carrying their foal with them. They scaled the mountain and lay their wealth before the soothsayer, asking her to speak their foal’s name and fate, just like everypony else had done for ages before. “The soothsayer looked up with eyes weary from age and asked the couple if they knew her name, just like she had asked every other mother and father for longer than anypony could remember. The mother opened her mouth to say that, no, she didn’t know the mare’s name. Just then the young babe turned in its father’s grasp and looked at the ancient mare with the bat wings, and the foal smiled as it pointed at the soothsayer and babbled its first word.” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle sat at the edge of their chairs, staring at Scootaloo. “W-what happened next?” Sweetie Belle asked. “The soothsayer repeated the word the child had babbled.” Scootaloo grinned. “Then she stood up and grinned, smiling for the first time. She laughed, and as she laughed she turned to ashes which was blown out the window and over the desert upon a breeze. “Ever since,” Scootaloo continued in a lower tone, leaning back in her chair with a serious expression, “ponies have had to find their own names and discover their own fates. But some say that the soothsayer still rides the wind, listening and waiting for somepony to whisper her name.” “W-what happens when she hears her name?” Apple Bloom shivered. “Then she comes,” Scootaloo whispered, looking between them, “to take your name away, to leave you nameless and forgotten. For every name she ever gave, now she haunts the wind to take one back.” “But nopony knows knows her name, right?” Sweetie Belle looked hopeful. “It must have been forgotten long ago.” “Oh yes.” Scootaloo smiled as she leaned forward again. “But that’s just it, you see. Her name could be anything, and you won’t even know you’ve said it until she comes for you. Maybe it was something simple like Silver Fate or Black Wings.” “If it was the foal’s first word …” Apple Bloom whispered, staring at Scootaloo. Scootaloo smirked. “Yeah, then it probably would be something a foal would say, like Nana or … Baba. Perhaps the foal looked up at the old soothsayer, and when she saw the stars in her mane she smiled and said, ‘Baba, stella!’ Look dad, stars!” Her two friends gasped and held their breaths, looking around the room. Outside the wind howled in the trees, and the old barn creaked ominously. Scootaloo looked around before giving a shrug and opened her mouth to say something. “Scootalooooooo …” Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle both screamed as the creaky old voice called out the name of their friend. Apple Bloom pressed herself far back into her chair, while Sweetie Belle hid her head beneath her blanket. Scootaloo tensed and turned around slowly, eyes wide. Her face twisted slightly before she broke out laughing, falling back into her chair and holding her tummy. “Oh …” She tried to catch her breath. “You should have seen your faces!” Sweetie Belle peeked out from under her blanket. “But … that voice?” Scootaloo wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Scootaloooooo …” She snickered and sat up straight again. “Rainbow Dash told me the story, and she taught me how to make the voice too. It’s pretty hard, but I’ve practiced a lot. I’ve waited forever for a chance to use it.” She picked up a gold-wrapped sweet and popped it in her mouth. “What d’you think?” Apple Bloom emerged from the pillows of her chair and took a deep breath, still eying the room. “That was really scary, Scootaloo.” “Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “I warned you.” They each sipped their cocoa and dug through the pile of candy on the table, picking among their favorites. Scootaloo licked the thick chocolate off her lips and muzzle. “So, how about you two? Think you’ve got any stories that can match mine?” There was a moment of silence as both of them thought, then Sweetie Belle raised an eager hoof. “Ooh, ooh, I’ve got one. It’s really scary, too.”