//------------------------------// // 10 - Friendship is Brutal // Story: Black Angel // by Zobeid //------------------------------// Dear Princess Celestia, I regret to inform you that the remaining fragments of Nightmare Moon’s armor have been lost. My home was burglarized last night, with the thieves taking a number of items, including the chest in which I had locked the armor fragments. The police are, of course, investigating. I have hope that some of my valuables may be recovered, though nothing of mine was taken that I cannot replace. As for the armor… I am deeply sorry that something you entrusted to my care has been lost. However, I send you this missive not with any intent to alarm you, but rather the opposite. During my attempts to scry the armor I never came away with more than the faintest impressions. I have been forced to conclude that the scraps retain no magical properties or psychic imprints of any consequence. I am sure the thieves will not recognize them as having any value (or perhaps I should say, will correctly recognize them as having no value), and have most likely already discarded them as common rubbish. It seems a fittingly ignominious end to the last relic of Nightmare Moon’s presence in our land. I am keenly aware that this leaves your original question unanswered, and I can offer no guidance as to what may have led to your sister’s corruption. I can only suggest that you must look for those answers elsewhere, or else accept that the matter may remain forever an unsolved mystery. Your Most Devoted Servant, Spell Nexus Warm light spilled out from the wide windows of the cafe, making the illusion of an oasis among the more dimly-lit city streets, deserted in this wee hour. A lone, white-uniformed attendant refilled the coffee dispenser with fresh brew. Abel glanced across the V-shaped serving counter. A nattily-dressed couple sat on bar stools across the way, chatting quietly — they didn’t seem close, judging from their demeanor. The man swirled a stirring stick in his coffee. Abel idly wondered if they were strangers who’d encountered one another on the street of dreams, or if one had unconsciously conjured up a dream image of an acquaintance or co-worker. Breaking into his musings, the man in white brought Abel a plate, a tall glass full of crushed ice, and a curvy bottle. “There ya go. Ham sandwich and a coke.” “Thuh-thanks.” Abel poured his soda from the bottle into the glass, carefully, not wanting foam to spill over onto the counter top. The attendant lingered and leaned to peer over the counter. “Hey, buddy… How come you’re barefoot? Didn’t you see the sign?” He jerked his thumb at a piece of cardboard: NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE. Abel gulped and looked down at his feet and self-consciously wiggled his toes. “Oh, uhh… S-sorry! I, um… It’s just that you’re not supposed to b-bury people with their shoes on.” He sighed. “I get buried a lot.” “Man, that’s rough. Well… You don’t look like any hippy I ever saw, so I guess it’s okay.” Abel nodded. “Thanks,” he said softly. He sniffed the pleasantly warm-and-greasy sandwich, and then took a bite. Food was his comfort whenever he felt stressed, which was often. Atop the bar stool at his right side, Goldie sniffed the air, then with a flap of his little wings hopped up onto the serving counter. “GARP!” he squawked, and his snout led him toward the sandwich. Abel glanced around, but the white-uniformed man wasn’t near, wasn’t looking. “Of course you can have a bite.” Abel opened up his sandwich and carefully pinched off a little bit of ham, and set it on the counter for Goldie. The baby gargoyle snapped it up, then started sniffing for more. “Nuh uh, that’s all you need. And you’ll, hmm, get me in trouble.” He picked up Goldie and set him back down onto the bar stool, then went back to his sandwich. He’d eaten less than half when a dark shape descended to the street outside the cafe’s window. Abel didn’t notice until a soft sizzle of magic and deep blue aura opened the door, and the armored form of Nightmare Moon strolled in. She grinned and said, “Abel, what a surprise! I was just terrorizing some ponies when I sensed your presence nearby.” Abel hopped off his stool and bowed. “Princess Moon! I, uh… I’m glad to see you. How’s your, hmm… How’s your night going?” “Please, Abel! You are my friend, you need not bow and scrape before me. And as for my night… Ah well, I still find a tedious exercise in frightening random dreamers, but it does provide some moments of satisfaction.” Abel stood up and nodded. “I’m glad you’re, uh, getting the hang of it. Oh, I got some news you’ll, hmm, want to hear.” Nightmare Moon perked up her ears, and he continued. “Your nuh-nemesis was found in Frivoli. A bunch of, um, troggles captured it.” Her eyes widened, and she lifted a hoof and partially opened her wings in surprise. “Captured? Tell me what happened!” “I, uh, d-don’t know much more. It’s supposed to be a s-secret; that’s the only reason I f-found out.” She moved closer, pinning him with her gaze. “Somepony told me troggles were extinct.” He scooted back slightly. “I d-don’t know! Muh-maybe? In the, um, waking world, maybe? There’s still l-lots of them in dreams.” She folded her wings again and sat down. “I see.” She pondered a moment, frowning, the slow waving of her mane and tail the only motion. Then she turned her gaze to Abel again and asked, “Who else knows about this?” “Nobody! Nobody outside of, uh, Frivoli, I guess?” “Well… Well, well. Let’s keep it that way, shall we? This could be the chance I’ve been waiting for. I shall depart for Frivoli immediately.” Abel’s pony ears drooped. “Are you sure? I mean, uh… Shouldn’t you just, you know… stay away from it? It could huh-hurt you.” “I’m fated to confront it sooner or later. If it’s a captive now, the advantage is mine. More than that, I have need of it. That creature, my nemesis, is going to open my path back to the living, waking world of Equestria. I must use it for my own ends before I destroy it.” “You’re ruh-really going to leave the Dreaming? I, uh… I talked with Matthew and he d-didn’t know any way, hmm, besides the two gates.” “YOU WHAT?” The air around Nightmare Moon sizzled like barely restrained lightning, and the lights of the cafe flickered and dimmed. The other two diners fled for the exit, while the attendant darted into the kitchen. She was focused only on Abel, though. “You told the raven what I was planning?” He cringed, backing against the serving counter. “No! I mean… I, uh… I only m-mentioned the g-gates. I d-didn’t t-tell him, uh, anything…” WHOK! An armored hoof slammed into Abel’s face, knocking him down. Before he could move, the same hoof came down upon the side of his head, holding him down. Nightmare growled, “That raven is the Dream King’s personal messenger! His eyes and ears! Didn’t you think at all before you blabbed? You, the keeper of secrets?” As he whimpered she lowered her snout closer to his ear and said more quietly, but with no less menacing tone, “If he tells Morpheus, I’ll come back to you — and I’ll break you so hard, you’ll go running to your brother for comfort.” The hoof left Abel’s face. Quivering on the floor, he was barely aware as the dark presence retreated and the cafe’s lights brightened. It took him a while to compose himself and sit upright. Goldie fluttered over to him and croaked, “Awrk?” “It’s okay,” Abel muttered. A warm drop splashed on the floor, and he sniffled. “It’s okay, I’m not crying. Not ruh-really.” He sniffed again and wiped another crimson droplet from his face. “It’s only blood.”