//------------------------------// // Old Friends // Story: Somber Ties // by Mobytums //------------------------------// “This weather has to let up sometime.” Gravel crunched under iron-shod hooves as the the creaking wheels of the lord’s most recent transportation was pulled unceremoniously away by its two drivers who wanted nothing more than to get out of the ferocious downpour. “Thoroughly miserable weather,” Crux muttered as he stared up at the overcast sky. Roiling thunderheads the color of freshly forged steel stretched across the sky of his uncle’s town, sealing out the light of any but the brightest of the nearby streets’ oil lampposts. His magic drew the collar of his decidedly too thin coat up higher around his neck as his hooves drew him off of the gravel and closer to the smoother cobblestone just short of the building’s steps. Normally when a lord has arrived slightly later than is approved by polite society, proper etiquette allows three solid knocks to announce one’s presence. However when three solid knocks does not draw an immediate response while said lord is standing soaked and shivering in rain a few degrees short of being snow, he may suddenly find himself deprived of any amount of patience. *Bang, Bang, Bang, Ba-* The abused hardwood flew open under his hoof as a seething earth pony with an immaculately styled handlebar moustache stared at him. “Lord Crux,” he seethed through clenched teeth and forced joviality. His moustache bristled like an indignant feline. “Barnaby, excellent.” Crux neatly sidestepped the livid butler and stood dripping in the foyer, stripping off his cloak as fast as possible. “Glad to see you’re keeping me waiting, just like always. And in such lovely weather, no less! It gladdens my heart to know that no matter how many years go by, my uncle still won't get rid of you. It's comforting to have at least one thing in your life resistant to change.” “Likewise, sir.” Smiling warmly, cheeks rosy with suppressed venom, the ponyservant gently snatched Crux’s coat from his hooves. “Please, let me get that for you sir. If I may say sir, I am greatly pleased you arrived safely, five hours late. My lord and lady have been expecting you.” “I should hope so, Barnaby. My uncle was the one to send for me and it would be an absolute tragedy that I should have had to stand out in the rain and have the pleasure of your company for no reason whatsoever.” “Of course, sir. If you will follow me, I will escort you to them.” With a stiff tilt of the head that might have passed as a bow, the stallion swept off down a hallway with his guest close on his heels. His uncle’s house hadn’t changed at all he decided as Barnaby led him past pristine busts of strong-jawed earth ponies. Whereas his mother had enjoyed livening the halls with vases of flowers that fit each hall’s themes, Uncle and Auntie preferred to keep their estate as formal as possible. Where there wasn’t a bust, there were old wooden carvings and thickly stuffed furniture and where they were both lacking, a pony could safely bet on the appearance of a suit of armor from the old era. “Auntie really hasn’t done much with the place, has she?” Crux mumbled to himself as his business-like stride took him swiftly past one ancestor’s chin to the next. He always felt the need to suppress a grimace as he passed the face of his uncle’s great-grandmother. “Now that’s a chin.” “The Madame’s family has a long and upstanding history of propriety in all things, especially when it comes to the state of their abode.” The bristling butler stopped in front of a familiar wide, modestly carved wooden door bowing deeply as he opened it. “Unlike some families I could mention,” he muttered under his breath. A mirthless smile stretching his lips, Crux swept past the portal and its irksome operator and stepped into his uncle’s study. He’d always felt it could have passed as some sort of novelty shop, if he were completely honest. Being careful to try not to drip too often on his aunt’s sickeningly colorful throw rugs, he trotted past walls whose bright orange paint was barely visible through gaps in between the bookcases and shelves that lined the walls. The shelves were filled with his uncle’s assorted ‘antiques’. Gathered objects from a lifetime of traveling and sightseeing. Miniature models of the Crystal Palace stood next to statues of Celestia and Luna, and old silver war medals from centuries past hung immaculately polished in glass cases. A wide variety of model airplanes and gliders hung suspended from the ceiling on delicate wires. Snowglobes of Celestia’s Statue in Manehatten swirled with magically enchanted flakes next to a hat with a bright yellow #1 stitched into its front and its accompanying foam finger. Souvenirs from the Empire’s last hosting of the Equestria Games. A broad, polished oak desk rested in front of a tall window that stretched to the ceiling, the inky skies leaving the impression of an open portal to the void. Seated at the desk was a familiar sight that somewhat eased Crux’s irritation. A stallion sat bowed over his desk, fiddling with the assorted pieces of what appeared to be his latest model airplane project. The older earth-pony’s ruddy orange coat wrinkled around his eyes as his brow furrowed in concentration. He clenched a small screwdriver between his teeth as he carefully drove a screw into a piece of the plane’s wheel axle. Seated next to him with her back pressed against his side, a fair peach colored mare sat reading a book as she hummed a slow tune. The sound seemed to fill the large room and gave the clashing colors a sense of unity in their collective madness. They looked so happy sitting there together that it warmed Crux’s heart to see them. A pity the rest of him was freezing. Clearing his throat loudly, Crux arched a brow and smirked. “I’m not interrupting anything of world-shattering proportions, am I?” The sound of his voice broke their reverie as his aunt gave a little gasp of surprise. Godric dropped his screwdriver and in a mad bid to catch it, slammed his head into the desk, rattling the model pieces. “Oh, Nephew! You’ve arrived, how wonderful!” The mare swept around the table while her husband sullenly rubbed his forehead. “We haven’t seen you since the emergency meeting. How are you?” She smiled warmly. “Soaking wet and freezing, Auntie.” He smirked, tightening his lips in an attempt to keep his chattering teeth hidden. With a worried ‘tsk’ she hurriedly pushed him into a chair and he hissed as his wet clothing pressed against the parts of his body that had managed against all odds to remain somewhat warm. “You just sit there and I’ll have the maids prepare a bath.” Her horn gave off a rosy light as a rope in the corner was pulled. “Did Barnaby not offer you a bath?” Godric asked, quirking a brow before flinching and pressing at it gingerly with a hoof. “No, and even if he had I trust that pony as far as I could throw him,” Crux scoffed. His aunt’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Has he been giving you trouble again?” “No more than he always has Auntie, only the casual insults and thinly-veiled malice as usual.” Crux turned to his frowning uncle and grinned. “When are you going to get rid of that butler of yours?” Godric leaned back in his chair and huffed through his nostrils. “I won’t and you know exactly why.” He smiled as his nephew rolled his eyes. “Barnaby’s the best I’ve got and it’s no fault of mine that your father swept Merlot out from under my hooves. Unless, of course, you can sweeten the deal?” He grinned, chuckling. “Unfortunately for you, I like Merlot more than I dislike your butler. And it’s not my fault you lacked Varnish and father didn’t.” He smirked. Godric shook his head in feigned irritation. “If only I’d known having ‘bountiful’ maids would strengthen my grip on prench butlers.” He laughed loudly as the gray pony shivered in his seat from more than the cold. “How do you know about that?” Leaning back and crossing his hooves, the orange pony frowned admonishingly. “Well, since a certain nephew of ours has neglected to send us old folk any letters letting us know how he’s doing, Merlot has been kindly updating me on your situation.” He paused to rub at his chin amusedly. “That includes waxing eloquent about Varnish, apparently.” “It’s not even been a month, Uncle,” Crux deadpanned. “A lot can happen in a month!” His aunt swept back away from the door and stood next to her husband’s desk, a slightly disappointed pout emphasizing the thin wrinkles around her eyes. “Even something like adopting two young ladies into your family and not telling your auntie.” Her gaze bored into him like a team of jewel frenzied diamond dogs. Even the droplets of water caught in his coat felt as though they froze when pinned under the piercing eyes of his stern-faced aunt. Sinking slightly in his chair, he rubbed a hoof through his damp mane and avoided eye contact. “I see Merlot mentioned that as well.” Laughing loudly, Godric waved a hoof at his wife. “Come now, Rose. No need to terrorize the poor colt.” Rose Quartz turned her stare onto her husband whose ruddy orange coat turned a much lighter shade under his wife’s steely gaze. “I want to meet them,” she announced to the room at large. “And I would be glad to have you over one day for just that! Perhaps after we finish whatever this business is?” Crux breathed a silent sigh of relief as his aunt smiled, seemingly pleased with his answer. “That sounds wonderful, but first we get you clean and warmed up. I assume your carriage is in the stables and it has your luggage?” One hot bath and a clean change of clothing later, Crux and his hosts had managed to make themselves much more comfortable and his aunt’s furniture was in much less danger of water damage. “Let nopony ever question your hospitality, Uncle.” Crux sighed contentedly as Godric chuckled and puffed gently on a pipe clenched between his teeth. "But now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I would ask that we get down to why I’m here. I hope you understand that I wish to keep this visit as brief as possible.” Nodding sadly, his uncle gestured vaguely with his pipe to Crux’s person. “I assume by now that you’ve listened to your disc, then?” Crux nodded as memories of his mother’s argument with Sombra echoed through his mind, he rubbed at the base of his horn as it gave off faint pangs of phantom aches. “So you know of what your parents wanted you to see.” It was more of a statement of fact than any sort of question, but the young stallion nodded again regardless. “Then everything’s going according to your parent’s requests. Now…,” Godric spun about in his chair and wrenched open a stubborn drawer under his desk before withdrawing a small satchel and placing it on the open desktop between them. “I have in my possession, a few pieces of inheritance that your parents wanted left with me.” Giving the satchel’s drawstrings a few quick tugs it opened enough for him to slip in a hoof. “The first of which, is this.” Delicately, Crux took a small, black metal medallion into his magic. It was a curious trinket. Made of a dull, black metal that seemed to reflect as little light as possible, it hung from a thick chain made of what appeared to be steel. Its most interesting aspect however, was the medallion’s roughly carved design. “This looks like my mother’s crest.” Godric nodded, chewing on his pipestem. “Yes, I believe your mother had a similar necklace?” Tracing the medallion’s features with his eyes, Crux gave an affirmative grunt. “She did indeed. One made of silver, if I recall correctly. I keep it in my office.” “Don’t let it out of your sight,” Rose stressed, taking her seat next to her husband. “From what Sable told me, they’re two of a set.” “I’ve never seen this on either of my parents.To which did it belong?” “Neither,” his uncle grunted, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air. “That necklace belonged to your uncle.” As Crux inspected the trinket with newfound interest, Godric cleared his throat and tapped the desk. “And the second is this charming little bauble.” Giving an amused snort as he glanced up from the necklace. “What, first you give me a possession of the Black Tyrant himself, and all that's left is a little bauble? Haven't you ever heard of saving the best for la—” The medallion gave a thump as it slipped from his wavering aura and landed on the carpet. Crux’s blood ran cold as he stared into a void of seething black mist that glared at him with lurid red eyes. “Ah, the prodigal son sits before Us at last. Long has your mother kept you from Us, but We are not one to be denied for long. Greetings, Jet.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Olive, we really shouldn’t be doing this.” “Oh, come now. What’s the worst that could happen?” “You could end up in a coma? Again?” Silver asked incredulously. The two fillies were tiphoofing down the hallway from their bedroom. The light of Luna’s crescent moon providing illumination just barely bright enough to see their way around the tables and vases that stood in their path. “Please, the chances of that are astronomical. This time I know what it is, and I know more of what I’m doing.” “Olive, if we knew what we were doing we’d be in bed dreamin’ about cookies and Prancy Drew instead of whisperin’ in the dark so Merlot doesn’t catch us.” “You dream about Prancy Drew?” The flash of light off of the unicorn’s teeth betrayed her grin as she looked over her shoulder. “O-only sometimes,” the pegasus mumbled. She huffed as Olive giggled. “I don’t think you have any room to laugh at me for dreamin’ about storybook ponies.” Ducking under a chair to avoid a possibly incriminating beam of moonlight streaming in through a window she smiled evilly in the dark. “Who was that one pony in your Roaman books you had a crush on?,” she hummed mockingly, tapping a hoof on her chin. “Don’t say it,” the unicorn hissed. “Hockules?” She cooed to herself in a sickeningly sweet tone of voice. Imagining Olive’s sudden resemblance to a tomato, she snickered. “Shh.” “He was really muscly wasn’t he?” “Shh!” Olive pressed a hoof up against Silver’s lips as the sound of somepony other than two huddling fillies bounced down the hall to their alert ears. Whistling a quick, jaunty melody, Merlot moved slowly down the corridor with a lit candlestick. Double-checking the locks on windows and doors as he moved steadily down the hall, he failed to notice a pair of wide eyes staring out after him from inside a suit of armor. The suit’s barrel rattled. “Is he gone?” “I believe so.” Metal creaking as Olive turned to look after the fading light of Merlot’s candle, the unicorn lifted her visor and breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, awesome. Can ya get off of my head now?” Continuing their ill-considered venture to the room just down the hall, the fillies endeavored to leave everything looking as untouched as possible. Merlot probably wouldn’t wonder too much about why the suit’s helmet was on backwards anyway. “This is such a bad idea.” Giving her glasses a firm tap, Olive giggled. “It’s strange. Usually I’m the one saying that.” Silver groaned as she hopped over a roll in the carpet, flapping her wings for added lift.“Then listen to your own advice!” “But I just have to inspect that disc again! I’ve never heard of an object inscribed with magic to relate memories. It’s positively fascinating!” She squealed quietly. “Such an egghead.” With a disgruntled ‘hmmph’, silence reigned in the dark until the duo finally stopped in front of the wooden bastion of Crux’s office. The silence remained unbroken for several moments as they stared at the door. “Well...go on. Open it.” “What, me? You’re the one who dragged us down here, you open it.” With a huff Olive grasped the handle in her magic and gave it a sharp twist and tug. Giving no more than a faint clack as the handle jammed halfway down, the filly frowned disappointedly. “It’s locked.” “Oh boy, what a shame.” Silver gave a jaunty salute with her wing as she spun around to trot away. “I guess we’ll just have to go back to be—” “Pick it.” The pegasus blinked incredulously at the commanding glare issuing from her bespectacled Don Capony. “What?” “You heard me. Pick it. I know you can, how else did you get into the pantry the other night?” “There’s a little difference between pickin’ a pantry lock and the door to a bigwig’s office,” she grumbled. Glaring out from behind her glasses, the unicorn thrust a hoof imperiously at the door. Sighing in defeat, the pegasus trotted past her tyrannical sibling. “Fine, fine. Keep your saddle on.” Trying her best to ignore Olive’s victorious smirk, the filly stopped in front of the door and fished around in her feathers. Olive looked on curiously, her mouth in a small ‘o’ of interest as Silver pulled pieces of a bobby pin out of her feathers and went to work on the door’s lock. Bracing herself on the hardwood, the filly gave the stuck pins deft twists and turns with her dextrous pinions. Jiggling the metal a few final times, the inner mechanisms gave a soft click and swung open as the pegasus pulled on the now fluidly turning handle. “There,” Silver mumbled through the pins clenched in her teeth. Weaving the metal back through her feathers, she looked up to see Olive tapping her glasses further onto her muzzle with a serious glint in her eyes. “Whatsa matter?” “I must make certain we train you to use your powers for good and not evi-iiil” The unicorn squealed as Silver swatted her on the rump with a wing, pushing her into the office. “Oh shut up and get in there already.” Olive had to admit, even with her begrudging sister by her side it was a lot spookier in the dark office than she had thought it would be. She had never thought herself claustrophobic, but from the filly’s shorter perspective the towering bookshelves and straight-backed chairs set strategically around the room seemed to loom over her like wooden giants. The light of the moon streaming in through the room’s only window only served to give the furniture elongated shadows that stretched over the walls, giving her the feeling of being watched. Standing entirely rigid as her eyes darted around the room for a less nefarious looking spot to begin her search, she gave a small squeak as Silver sighed behind her. “Don’t tell me you got cold hooves after I just committed breaking and entering.” “The law doesn’t consider it breaking and entering if it’s your own house,” Olive admonished in a whisper, her eyes still whipping every which way as she decided the safest bet to find the disc was to stand as perfectly still as possible. “Well Varnish wouldn’t like it. And in the land of the cookie-less, the spatula’d baker is queen. And the queen is the law!” The unicorn rolled her eyes, trying her best not to giggle at Silver’s fearful imaginings of Varnish’s stated punishment of a day without treats of any kind. Her irrational fear temporarily forgotten thanks to her sibling’s antics, Olive took a deep, steadying breath and trotted deeper into the room, Silver close on her heels. “Any idea where he’d keep it?” Silver asked. “If I had to guess, I would say he probably has some sort of hidden safe or lock-box in here somewhere.” Olive hopped up into the swiveling chair behind the desk and began rummaging through the drawers. “Ooh, maybe one of these books is actually a secret switch to an underground vault!” Excitement at the possibility of hidden secrets overcame the filly’s apprehension as she dove at the nearest bookcase and began pulling books off the shelves at random. “Silver, we’re on the second story,” Olive sighed, a slight smile creasing her muzzle. The pegasus hurled a book of poetry over her shoulder and waved her hoof dismissively. “Details, details.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I’ve gotta hand it to him, he’d probably be really good at hide and seek.” The two fillies lay slumped against each other on the floor. Their spot the only clear ring of space on a carpet buried under tossed books and scattered paperwork. Silver sighed and gave a discarded glass paperweight a half-hearted kick and watched it roll an unsatisfyingly short distance as Olive wiped her glasses on her coat despondently. “There has to be somewhere we have yet to look.” Rubbing her eyes as she rose to her hooves, Silver grabbed a book in her pinions and began placing them back on the shelves. “We searched the place top ta bottom, Olive. If we’re gonna search any more we might as well cover the whole Crystal Empire while we’re at it.” The unicorn huffed and levitated a few scattered papers back into a pile and placed them on the desk. “You don’t think he actually hid it in the Crystal Empire or something, do you. Like in the globe or something, maybe?” Silver paused in her placing another novel on the shelves as she squinted suspiciously at the object in question. … “Nah, that’d be pretty obvious even for him.” “Yes, I thought so too.” The fillies worked in silence as they slowly restored the office to a semblance of order. Silver gave a mighty yawn as Olive finished placing the glass paperweight back on the desktop and hopped off of the chair. “We should probably head back to bed. We wouldn’t want Merlot to catch u—” The ponies froze as the sound of hooves outside the door sent icy spiders crawling up and down their spines. The rattling of the doorknob as it turned broke Silver from her shock as she grabbed Olive’s tail in her mouth and tugged the both of them behind the desk. They huddled together under the desk just as the door swung wide and shut silently. Olive could feel her heartbeat pulse through her entire body as she fought the urge to blink too loudly. The silence stretched on unbroken save for the soft hoofsteps of the other pony on the carpet. “Why’s he bein’ so quiet?,” Silver whispered faintly. “Maybe he already knows we are here?,” the unicorn whispered back. As they listened to Merlot’s hooves run across the top of their desk and scatter papers and inkwells, Silver’s ear twitched as a thought sprang unbidden from her mind. Her eyes widening in horror, she gently shook Olive and leaned down to her ear to muffle her voice. “Hey, didn’t Merlot have a candle?” The fillies flinched as thud sounded above them before an open volume danced off of the surface, landing near their hiding place. “What are they doing?,” Olive hissed. Gingerly, Silver peeked her head out from their hiding space and and inched around the desk. Her eyes widened and she crouched lower to the ground as she saw a pony dressed all in black illuminated by Luna’s revealing light tossing books off of the shelf and onto the floor with little to no regard for stealth. “Aww, I just finished cleaning those up.” The pegasus flinched and glared at her sibling as Olive crawled up beside her, her barrel pressed against Silver’s wings. Tossing ledgers and literature around the room, the dark figure failed to notice one book strike the solitary globe on its edge, sending the balanced sphere rocking back and forth from the force of the impact. The fillies, however, noticed it glide slowly open with the barely audible whir of clockwork machinery. Silver blinked, mouth agape before turning to her companion excitedly. ‘I’m a genius.’, Olive mouthed silently. Glancing back and forth between the mystery pony and the revealed cache, Silver took a tentative hoofstep out onto the carpet and away from the alcove. Ignoring Olive’s frantic and silent hoofwaving, which would have been hilarious to watch under other circumstances, the pegasus tiphoofed silently toward the globe, her eyes glued to the familiar glint of rainbow light emanating from underneath other assorted trinkets. Flinching with a grimace every time the masked pony made a noise of any sort, the next few seconds felt like the longest hours of the filly’s life as she slowly slid around the globe and smiled at her prize. Gently grasping the disc in her pinions she stood up and waved it in the air, pumping a forelimb in victory as Olive beckoned her back furiously. She hadn’t even made it halfway back before a scuff brought her attention to another book that made the arcing trip away from its lovely shelf. Silver felt her heart stop in her chest as she watched the damning volume sail through space in slow motion toward the desk and Olive hiding behind it. With a thud, the book struck the surface and knocked loose the glass paperweight that had been delicately placed on top of a stack of forms. An all consuming sense of dread filled those brief fractions of a second as the glass fell from its perch and landed with a thump on an oblivious Olive’s head. The filly gave a cry of pain and clutched at her bruised cranium. Silver could only stand frozen like a statue as the black-clothed pony gave a grunt of alarm and spun about, dark eyes glinting with surprise and anger at the pegasus clutching a suddenly alarmingly bright crystal disc. “Oh, crud,” she whimpered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Crux’s grip on the arm of his chair tightened to an almost painful degree as his body unconsciously tried to find any available space in his chair to back into. The black void with its seething red eyes glared out at him as it’s chuckle of amusement at his obvious discomfort seemed to vibrate through his bones. “W-what in Tartarus are you? How do you know my name?” “We? We are the forgotten, the abandoned. Much like you, young Jet.” Crux couldn’t see it, but he most certainly felt the crooked sneer that punctuated its hissing statement. “Have no fear, We have known you your entire life, Jet. We have watched you from behind your mother’s eyes as you grew older and stronger. Always watching. Do you not remember?” His muscles seized violently as distorted visions flashed across his eyes. A pale, colorless world seemed to play out before his vision as if he were watching a black and white film in one of the city’s new theaters. He saw a grey colt with a long, messy black mane and what he knew to be green eyes running around the halls laughing as he was chased by his father. He was watching himself. He could feel a light, feminine chuckle vibrate through his chest, though his lungs were frozen and his throat felt tight and clogged. More glimpses of his childhood through another’s eyes raced through his view before fading away. Sucking in a ragged breath and then another as his heart tried to catch up with a lack of oxygen, he heard the hissing chuckle again, mocking. “Such a sad thing, to have been raised by parents who hid your heritage from you. To think that we could have met so long ago. Been such friends.” “D-distance makes the heart grow fonder, or so they say,” Crux spat, glaring at the roiling black spot floating on the table before him. “Ah, what a fitting phrase. We have indeed only grown fonder of you as time has passed. You have such potential to serve Our cause, much like your uncle did before you.” “Sombra?” “Mm, yes. He was quite the vessel before his fall. He had even managed to acquire Our heart before his death.” A vicious snarl rent the air between them. “A pity your mother sealed Us away from him before he could deliver it.” Crux felt his blood run cold as ice as the realization dawned on him. “You’re the Cradle...aren’t you?” “Ah! He can be taught! We are so proud, Jet. Would you like a reward?” Harsh, mocking laughter grated on his ears. “What do you want?” “Our Heart!” Pinning his ears back at the rumbling echo left behind by the volume of the Cradle’s shout he glared back into its eyes as it chuckled. “And you are going to help Us get it.” “I’d sooner kiss Torc,” Crux scoffed. “Go throttle yourself, you black-hearted wretch.” “Blackheart, eh? We like it.” Laughing uproariously the void trembled over the desk, the air shimmering with its mirth. “But please, don’t be like that, Jet. After all, you may be the only vessel capable of holding me with your true blood, tainted though it may be but that does not mean you are the only pony to whom I have whispered.” Crux felt the hairs on his neck stand up as the feeling of its smirk washed over him like tepid oil. “You’d be surprised how motivated a pony in power can be when offered even more of it. Disgusting, greedy little creatures.” Blackheart made a spitting sound, the revulsion evident in its voice. “Why, even now one of their cronies prowls your home for your second sigil. And it would be a pity if anything were to happen to its other residents. Two little foals, perhaps?” The muscles along his jaw clenched and curled into a snarl as an icy ball of dread dropped through his stomach, dragging it to his hooves. His eyes burned as though on fire with the force of his gaze as he matched stares with Blackheart’s red orbs. “If you touch a hair on their heads I swear on the Maker I’ll make you suffer!” He spat. “Yes, excellent Jet,” Blackheart crooned. “Embrace Our magic. We must say, that look suits you.” His brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes roamed to the window. They widened in horror at his reflection. A nightmarish vision of himself stared back into his shocked face. A bubbling purple mist leaked from the edges of his now slitted eyes like a sickly miasma and his horn, once solid green and opaque now glowed with an angry emerald light as it’s curve grew more pronounced and its tip even sharper. His slack jaw revealed sharp canines that bit into his lips as she slammed it shut, the coppery taste of his own blood coating his tongue. “We believe We could get used to seeing you like this. You look so very much like your uncle.” “I am not like my uncle,” he muttered. “No, you will be even better. We know this, and We are never wrong about such things. Now, what do you decide?” “Go to Tartarus!” With a shout of rage and fear, Crux swiped a hoof through the void’s eyes as it disappeared into trails of wispy black smoke. Drawing heavy, shaky breaths Crux blinked furiously as the rest of the room came into focus. His aunt and uncle were staring at him with looks of worried terror stamped on their muzzles. “Jet, honey?” Rose asked hesitantly. “Are you alright?” Crux swept the room with feverish eyes but all he could see were his distraught hosts and a small hunk of black crystal lying inert on his uncle’s desk. “W-where did it go?” “Where did what go?” “Blackheart, the Cradle! It was just here a moment ago, threatening me.” The lord slammed a hoof down on the table, grabbing the crystal and shaking it in frustration. Godric glanced at his wife worriedly as he reached a hoof across the table to grasp his nephew’s. “There wasn’t any cradle, Jet. You went rigid as a board and started glaring and shouting at the air.” Frowning in confusion, Crux glanced up at the window to see his normal reflection staring back at him. Though he did look rather pale and sweaty. “I...I-I don’t understand.” He wiped a shaky forelimb over his brow. “Jet, honey I think you’d better go lie down.” The two elders jumped in their seats in surprise as Crux leaped from his chair. “No! No, I can’t lie down I have to get back! It threatened the girls, and there’s a thief in my house!” Godric lept from his seat to grab at Crux’s shoulders with a steadying hoof. “Jet my boy, calm yourself. There’s a thief in your house? How do you know?” “The Cradle told me Uncle! I'm not entirely sure of what it hopes to gain by threatening me, but I can't just sit here and do nothing about any threat to those foals!” His uncle stared into his eyes searchingly, unsure if he should let a possibly crazed nephew out into the Empire’s streets at night. “Uncle please, I need to hurry!” His mouth pressing into a thin line, he released a vented breath through his nostrils and nodded, releasing the younger stallion. Crux smiled gratefully before swiping the dropped medallion from the floor and galloping out into the hall shouting for his carriage drivers. “Gaudy, you let him leave?!” Rose cried, incensed. “He obviously wasn’t in his right mind. What happens if he hurts somepony, or himself!” “Now Rosy, our Jet is many things, but he is neither crazy nor a liar. If he says he saw some ‘Cradle’ speak to him from the crystal and threaten his children, then it probably happened.” Godric took a deep breath before turning to face his distraught and teary-eyed wife. “Besides, even if I’d hallucinated it, if something had threatened my children I’d be galloping to their side, come Tartarus or Discord himself.” “But Gaudy, he-he looked just like him.” The elderly earth pony pulled his wife into a tight hug as she started to softly sob, he stroked his hooves soothingly over his wife’s neck and its old, thin scars from her years of wearing chains. “I know he did, Rosy. But it’s just like he said, our Jet isn't like his uncle. He’s a good colt.” “W-what are we going to do, Gaudy?” she sniffled. Her tears soaked into his coat but he paid them no heed as he ceaselessly assured her with soft coos and a firm pressure on her taut neck muscles. “I’m not sure there’s much we can do, my dear. But if anything, I believe it’s time we sent a letter to the Princess.” “I’m sure Cadance will want to hear about this.”