//------------------------------// // Dr. Well Wish // Story: From The Depths // by Pen Stroke //------------------------------// From The Depths By Pen Stroke Preread, Edited, and Reviewed By Illustrious Q, Batty Gloom, El Oso, Alexstrazsa, JustAnotherTimeLord, Hidden Brony ===================================================================== Chapter 5 Dr. Well Wish ==================== “Best Nightmare Night haul ever!” Pinkie Pie bounced towards the festival games of Nightmare Night, her seapony tail swinging behind her and smacking unsuspecting ponies in her wake. Pinkie’s candy bag bulged, threatening to burst at the seams from the weight of the sugary confections it carried. She was heading towards Applejack, who was packing up her family’s traditional apple bobbing booth. Applejack couldn’t help but chuckle at Pinkie’s enthusiasm, pushing back the hat of her train engineer costume. “Glad you had fun, and congratulations on the Oogie Boogie Blocks. All I heard ponies talking about was how much fun they had in that part of town.” Applejack put her hooves on the apple bobbing trough and tipped it over, pouring out its water into a nearby storm drain. “I know! It was so much fun! Oh, and look what I got out of it!” Pinkie Pie’s hoof dove into her candy bag. She rummaged around inside it for a few moments before pulling out a king size chocolate bar. “Isn’t it the biggest hunk of milk chocolate you’ve ever seen?” “Well, I don’t know about that, but it sure is big though.” Applejack set the trough back down on its bottom. She then smiled and waved at a pony coming up behind Pinkie. “Better late than never, I suppose. Right, Rarity?” Rarity sighed as she came to a stop beside her friends, wearing the costume she had finally brought to her lofty standards. She had chosen to go as a mad scientist who would bring true fashion to the world, but that meant making a lab coat fashionable. A task that had proven challenging since the lab coat kept ending up looking like just a regular coat when made fashionable. The final bit of inspiration that had made the coat presentable was to cut it short on the bottom and combine it with long boots. Black boots on her back legs and purple on her forelegs that reached up to her gaskin and knee respectively. “After finally finishing it I couldn’t just let it hang in the closet like all the other ones,” Rarity said, giving a mall twirl so at least Applejack and Pinkie Pie would be able to appreciate the whole design. “I don’t understand why you don’t just wear one of the old costumes you made,” Applejack said as she pulled the empty bobbing trough to the back of a nearby cart. “It’s not like anypony has seen them anyway.” Rarity huffed. “Applejack, as a mare of fashion I can never wear an outfit I made for a previous year. It would just be—” “Unfashionable,” Pinkie Pie answered in a dramatic gasp, briefly putting her forehoof against her head. “No, it would be—” Rarity began, only to blink and look to Pinkie, bewildered. “Actually, yes, that is correct.” Pinkie Pie smiled, like a student complimented for giving the right answer by a teacher. She then dove her nose into her bag of candy, rooting around inside as empty candy wrappers dropped to the ground. “Well, maybe you’ll have better luck next year,” Applejack said. “Still, while you’re here, mind helping me load this stuff into the cart.” “There’s no time for that!” Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack looked skyward and stepped to the side in the nick of time. Rainbow Dash came in fast, barely slowing down as she put her hooves to the ground and skidded to a stop. It was a landing fitting of her costume, a jumpsuit like the one worn by legendary stuntmare: Daredevil. “We need to get to the library now!” “Why? What’s wrong?” Applejack asked, lines of concern already forming on her brow. “Something’s happened to Twilight!” ~~~ “Everyone in the castle vanished?!” five voices chimed in unison. Spike could only nod his head as he hurriedly climbed a ladder, his eyes searching the shelves of the library. All five of Twilight’s friends were looking up at him from the floor, each unable to believe what he had just told them. “That’s what the letter from Shining Armor said.” “But how could that happen?” Rarity asked. “I don’t know,” Spike said, taking a book of the shelf. He turned around on the library ladder, using his tail to keep himself balanced while cracking the book open in his claws. “He said he’d explain more of what happened when you got there. He’s sending the fastest pegasi he can with a royal chariot to pick you up.” Applejack snorted, stomping a hoof. “It must have been Discord! He’s up to his old tricks again. He probably booby trapped the party when the princesses had him decorating.” “No, he wouldn’t do something like this,” Fluttershy protested, her voice taking on a rare tone of certainty. Rarity put a hoof on Fluttershy’s shoulder. “Not to cast doubt on him, Fluttershy, but who else do we know that could make everypony in the castle just disappear? I doubt the princesses even have the magic necessary to pull off such a feat.” “If Twilight’s estimates on Princess Celestia’s and Princess Luna’s magic levels are at all correct, they’re far from it.” Spike said. He descended the ladder with the chosen book tucked under his arm. “Twilight was estimating how much magic the princesses have?” Spike nodded his head as he reached the bottom of the ladder. “She was paranoid that the princesses would want to take a vacation sometime and that they’d ask her to control the sun and moon in their absence. I told her it probably wouldn’t happen, but she wanted to do the estimates anyway.” He set the book down on the reading table before climbing back up the ladder to find another. “Still, that only proves my point, Fluttershy,” Rarity said. “Who else but Discord could be responsible?” “Well, I didn’t say that.” Spike grabbed the library shelf, using it to push him and the wheeled library ladder to the right. Rainbow Dash flew up next to Spike, hovering over his shoulder as his he drug his claw across the spines of books. “What do you mean? Does Shining Armor suspect it was somepony else?” “He sent something with his letter, something he and the guards found on the bottom of Philomena’s cage. It’s a magic rune.” “A magic spoon! Oh, does it make cereal taste super yummy?” Pinkie Pie asked. She bounded up beside Spike’s ladder and now held the base with her forehooves as her eyes glinted with anticipation. “Not spoon, rune.” Spike corrected. “It’s a kind of magic picture, like a recipe for a spell.” He took another book of the shelves and descended the ladder before holding the book open for all the mares to see. There was a cleanly drawn illustration, a circle with squiggly words and lines crisscrossing its center. “Here, see this? This is a magic rune designed to freeze water. If you put magic into it, it will make the spell happen.” “Huh, I didn’t even know things like that existed,” Applejack said. “It’s a very old form of magic,” Rarity said. “It has not been practiced in a long time because of how complex the diagrams have to be and how dangerous they are. If there is a flaw in the rune or if it gets damaged, then the spell can backfire with unpredictable results.” Rarity glanced away from the book, noticing that all her friends were suddenly staring at her. “What? My life may be devoted to fashion, but I’m also a unicorn. I’d be going against my nature if I didn’t take a few classes in magic. After all, don’t pegasi take flying classes and don’t earth ponies take... take...” Rarity fell silent as she motioned towards Applejack and Pinkie Pie. She then coughed, politely backing away from the hole she had almost verbally stepped into. “Anyway, they found a spell rune on the bottom of Philomena’s cage?” Spike nodded as he closed the book and set it on top of the first tome he had pulled from the shelves. “He sent it along with his letter. He’s contacting some professors from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns to help figure out what the rune was designed to do, but he sent it along here so I could try and help as well. As Shining said in his letter, the fact they found this in Philomena’s cage could mean the someone planned this in advance. “He’s also...” Spike hesitated, wringing his claws a moment as he looked at the mares. “He’s also afraid that the only way a pony could put something like this in Philomena’s cage is if it was an inside job.” Rainbow Dash swung her forehooves and shook her head firmly. “What!? No way! There’s no way anypony would betray the princesses like that.” “Unless it was somepony who wasn’t a pony,” Applejack said plainly, her brow furrowed as she looked to her friends. “We all know at least one big bug who’s got a knack for crawling in and hiding where she isn’t wanted.” “Heavens, is it possible she’s behind this?” Rarity asked, glancing around as if she would see changelings crawling on the walls like the insects they were. “Is that why Shining wants us in Canterlot?” “No, the reason he wants you all there is he thinks you can help find everypony.” Spike walked to Twilight’s writing desk, digging around in one drawer before pulling out a key. He then went over to the magically protected display case which contained the Elements of Harmony. “She was wearing her crown with the Element of Magic when she disappeared, and Shining thinks you might be able to use your necklaces to help find her.” “Can they even work without the Element of Magic?” Fluttershy asked as Spike gave each mare her respective necklace. “I don’t know. Last time we tried to use them with a mare down was when Discord was causing trouble, and Twilight made me the ‘new Rainbow Dash.’” Spike saved Rarity’s necklace for last, helping her put it on while she used her magic to hold her mane out of the way. “But this is different, so maybe we’ll get lucky.” “It makes sense to me,” Applejack said. “The Elements of Harmony are connected, just like we are to Twilight. Why, I reckon these little stones want to be reunited with the one in Twilight’s crown just as badly as we want to find her. We just have to let them show us the way.” “And even if they don’t work, we can help Shining Armor with the search in Canterlot.” Rainbow flew to the door, pulling it open and looking expectantly outside. “We aren’t going to rest one second until Twilight, the princesses, and everypony else has been found. Now, where is that chariot? If they’re the fastest pegasi Shining could find they should be here by now.” ~~~ Twilight woke to a ringing in her ears. When had she set her alarm clock? Why? It was the day after Nightmare Night. She was going to sleep in. She groaned, feeling something sticky on the side of her head. Candy in the bed. She should never eat candy in the bed. Now she’d have to wash all the sheets, but first she had to shut off the alarm clock. The ringing was too much. Lifting a hoof, Twilight felt around for her clock. She rolled onto her back, knowing she usually liked to sleep facing the window when she was on her side. She kept feeling, trying to find the alarm clock. Though, the ringing was too quiet for her alarm clock. Maybe it was the egg timer in the kitchen. “Spike,” Twilight mumbled, still trying to feel her way around her bed. Maybe she hadn’t fallen asleep on her bed? It felt hard... maybe it was a pile of books. It wouldn’t be the first time she had slept on bed of hardbacks. “Whatever you're cooking, it’s done. Shut off the timer.” Finally, Twilight cracked her eyes open. Instinctively she winced, trying to protect her vision from the glare of the sun through the window. But there was no glare. She opened her eyes further, seeing the cold stone walls of a dark corridor. She shifted, trying to sit up and feeling the sharp edges of the shattered glass beneath her. The ringing her ears ground at her mind, but slowly her thoughts fought through the noise. She began to remember. The fire consuming the maze. Philomena stalking from the sky. Each piece began to fall into line as Twilight pulled herself up off the floor. She turned back and saw the small puddles of congealed blood, of her blood, amongst the shards of glass. She could feel the cuts. The stickiness in her hair, which she thought had been candy in the bed, was a head wound that had swollen up into a lump. Twilight used a hoof to feel its shape, wincing with each ginger touch. It felt like she had sprouted another horn behind her ear. “Where am I?” Twilight asked to the darkness. She went to the window she had crashed through and looked out to the maze. She wanted to see what had happened, see what remained, but the night was too dark. It was darker than she remembered it being. She used to be able to see the maze from the castle, but now it was nothing more than an inky blackness. Maybe she was on the dark side of the castle, away from the moon. Maybe the moon had moved. Maybe there were thick clouds blocking the sky. No matter the explanation, the darkness looked wrong to Twilight for a reason she couldn’t explain. It made a tightness form in her stomach like she was being gripped there, as if something had sunk its claws into her. It felt like she was running out of time. Moving away from the broken window, Twilight took a few steps down the hall to the window’s neighbor. She conjured a light spell and looked at her reflection in the glass. Twilight looked like she had been tromping through the forest, a prickly forest with nasty branches that snagged and cut her up. Her mane was still done up like Celestia’s, though it was now dotted with bits of rubble and glass. And her crown... Where was her crown? Twilight looked back to the layer of broken glass that had been her bed moments before, and her moment of panic left as quickly as it came. She reached out with a levitation spell, the shimmering grip of her magic levitating her crown off the floor. She found so much solace in it. She held it before her face, looking into the Element of Magic which sat perfectly mounted into the metal. She picked a few bits of glass out of her mane before settling the crown back on her head. It hurt, a little. The crown was rubbing against the lump behind her ear, but its weight against her brow was comforting. It was her Element, and it represented the bond she had with her friends. A bond that gave her strength, no matter how far away she was from them. “Just one more, Twilight,” she said to herself. “One more light and Discord’s game will be over. I just have to keep looking.” She took a step forward, igniting the nearby hallway lights with her magic as she walked down the hall. “I can do this. I. Can. Do this.” Twilight faltered in her steps. She winced, bit her lip, and took her weight off one of her hooves. Her magic enveloped her leg for a moment, then she winced again before removing a grain of glass that had remained wedged in one of her wounds. “Ow.” ~~~ With a whimper, Twilight poked her head out from behind the edge of the door frame, looking into the room beyond. The hallway she had landed in was more like an enclosed patio. It separated the neighboring rooms from castle’s exterior wall, providing a place to enjoy sunlight and acting as a connection between those said rooms. The corridor, however, didn’t connect with the rest of the castle’s hallways. The only way for Twilight to get back, to continue her search, was to go through one of the adjoining rooms. She had tried to do just that. She had gone to the nearest door and opened it, only to find the door opened into a stone brick wall. It was like the room beyond had disappeared from existence, or that the doors themselves were just meant for decoration. Twilight had even tried blasting her way through, but getting through one layer of bricks only revealed another layer underneath. Only one door was more than just decoration. On the exterior, the door had been unassuming: simple wood with a single sign nailed to the front. A word was cut into the sign. Little flakes of red in the grooves of the word’s letters were evidence the sign had once been painted, but even without the color the plaque was clearly legible. The word “Infirmary” stood out, making a smile crawl onto Twilight's face as a flicker of hope sprang to life inside her. Though any medicines might be expired, there was a chance she could find clean bandages to at least cover the cuts she had gotten from crashing through the window. But upon opening the door, Twilight was met with a sight that sent chills down her spine. It made her heart sink while her stomach tried to force itself and all of its contents up her throat in a single upheaval. The room beyond was like a house of mirrors that had been assembled from centuries’ worth of yard sales. Mirrors, of every shape and size, lined the walls. Mountains of mirrors stretched from the floor to the ceiling, leaving only a few narrow paths that lead into the depths of the room beyond. It was like someone was trying to recreate some craggy landscape, like the mountain ranges beyond Equestria’s borders, using nothing but mirrors. For a moment, Luna’s rules rang in Twilight’s head. Rule three: she was supposed to smash any mirrors she found. But Luna couldn’t expect her to break all of these? That would take too long, and who knows what might hear her. She knew, at the very least, that Celestia still stalked the hallways, and who knew what else waited in the dark. That thought led to another, one that bullied all others out of Twilight’s mind. All the mirrors were a sign of something. She hoped that there was another explanation for it. Maybe Luna had done this, gathering all of the mirrors and putting them in a single room. Maybe it had been Discord himself, keeping a storehouse of mirrors ready to replace those that were broken. The simplest answer, however, was the one Twilight dreaded the most. Like the royal bath chamber or the maze outside, there was a chance, a good chance... it was almost a certainty that something stalked the valleys between the mountains of mirrors. There was something in this room, and for a moment Twilight contemplated her other options. She could just break another window in the hallway, blast it out with magic. Then she could fly out and get back to the front entrance. That route would ensure she’d never have to know what lurked in the room. But another thought crossed her mind, making Twilight frown as she saw her silhouette reflected in the few mirrors that happened to be facing the doorway. If this was like the bath chamber and the hedge maze, then there was a chance the final light was inside. She couldn’t see it, as she had been able to see the others, but this was Discord’s game, wasn’t it? The light was in this room, and if she snuffed it the game would finally be over. It would all finally be over. “Okay, Twilight, you can do this,” she said to herself, taking her first cautious step into the room. Everything was peaceful and calm. Nothing seemed ready to leap out at her, but then again that’s how it always started. There would be nothing, and then the moment she got close to the light, whatever guarding it would make its move. It was... a strange security blanket, when Twilight thought about it further. There was nothing to fear until she found the light. Still, her nerves continued to grow as she walked the valleys between the mountains of mirrors. There was a heavy smell of dust in the air, though she caught whiffs of other strange odors. They’d disappear as fast as she they came, but it was never the same smell twice. Sometimes it was sweet, other times it was rotten. Sometimes it was like sniffing a flower, others were like the Cakes’ twins dirty diapers. But perhaps the worst part was the mirrors themselves. They reflected the light from her horn, playing tricks on her eyes. Sometimes she’d be blinded by a mirror that bounced her light back into her eyes. Other times, it would be movement in the periphery of her vision. A twitch of something that would make Twilight snap her head to one side, only to realize that it was her own reflection. Like the corridor of ice, the mountains of mirrors seemed to extend further than should have been physically possible. Twilight lost sight of the walls, and the mountains of mirrors grew, pushing away the ceiling until it too faded into darkness. It was like the doorway had been a portal to another world, a world far different from the Equestria she knew and cared for. Twilight couldn’t say how long she had been wandering the paths of the foreign, reflective landscape before she saw the glow of something in the mirrors. She saw it in the distance, a few piles of mirrors that were lit up from one side. For a moment, Twilight believed it could possibly be the third and final light she needed to snuff, but... it didn’t fit. The previous two lights had been candles. What she saw had to come from something larger, something brighter. The closer Twilight drew, the more she was able to make out. A few glimpses in mirrors showed her a campfire and pedestals. She saw an open basin amidst mountains, and an equine figure walking back and forth. For a brief moment she thought it might have been Princess Luna, but that didn’t make sense. Luna was asleep in that guest room. As Twilight understood the rules, Princess Luna was trying to put off the transformation that had befallen Princess Celestia, Cadance, and Philomena. The odd smells in the air grew more frequent and began to remind Twilight of the times she had been at Zecora’s when the zebra was working on a potion. It was the smell of ingredients being opened, prepared, and eventually added to a brew. For a moment Twilight even hoped that, perhaps, it was Zecora. That she would find a friendly face that could help her snuff the final light. But Zecora was not at the castle’s Nightmare Night party. If Twilight did come across her, it would be a sign that Discord’s game had stretched further, perhaps encompassing the entirety of Equestria. Only one final bend in the path separated Twilight from the basin amidst the mountains, and she slowed down as she drew closer. She took each step with caution, raising and lowering only one hoof at a time as she inched herself closer. The bits and pieces she had only seen reflected in mirrors came together. The fire was at the center, sitting beneath a cauldron that bubbled and broiled with a sickly green brew. The pedestals were piles of mismatched mirrors that dotted the rim of the basin, each one paired with a larger, freestanding mirror. But a detail Twilight had not seen before were the shrunken heads. Each pedestal displayed a shrunken pony head. No larger than her hoof, each head had its lips and eyes sewn shut by orange toned thread. Some didn’t even have pedestals, hanging from sticks and strings attached to large standing mirrors. It was grotesque, especially since Twilight recognized a few ponies from the party. Though, they were also ponies she had seen in other parts of the castle, alive and well. How could they be in two places at once? Were these just reproductions or were the ponies she had seen alive just illusions? Twilight didn’t know, and perhaps that was worse than knowing for sure. For, the shrunken head nearest to her looked dreadfully familiar. White fur, with a mane that was the original her current style was trying to mimic. It looked like Princess Celestia’s head, and Twilight’s fears were confirmed when she stepped close enough to read the wooden plaque hung haphazardly from the pedestal. It was Celestia, her sewn shut eyes staring into a mirror that didn’t show a true reflection of the things around it. Instead, the image reflected in the glassy surface was of the princess silently screaming. She was bound in chains, unable to escape, as a hand, rimmed in red, reached out to her from the darkness. It stretched towards her forehead, always inching closer but never reaching the princess. Twilight watched with horrified eyes, fighting every urge to rush forward and try to help. The situation was similar for every shrunken head. The mirrors reflected back the pony the head belonged to, each one trapped in twisted scene being played on an endless loop. One showed a pony being chased endless by a pack of dogs through the streets of the city, each dog foaming at the mouth. Another showed a pony with a noose around her neck as she stood in front of a crowd of ponies, a microphone before her mouth and notecards scattered at her hooves. Dozens of silent horror shows, each one as unique as the shrunken heads themselves. So silent was the scene, the interruption of hoofsteps made every muscle in Twilight’s body tense. She looked to one side, eyes searching for the source of the sound. At first she could see only the cauldron, but then a figure loomed behind it. Coming from the far side of the basin, the equine figure stepped into the light of the fire. The pony’s coat was like dark, dying embers, and the tatters of what looked to be a sweatervest clung to his chest. From the gangly remnants of his orange mane and tail hung more shrunken heads. They clattered against one another quietly, like leaf-filled paper bags. The sound would not have been audible at such distance if there weren’t so many of them. Bits of feathers, body paint, and a bone necklace completed the look. “Witch doctor” was the only title Twilight could give to the pony. To the pony that lacked a head of his own. “The Headless Horse,” Twilight whimpered, watching from her spot at the edge of the basin. The witch doctor tossed something into the cauldron, causing its contents to froth and boil over. The liquid sizzled as it seeped down the sides of scalding hot metal. He then moved to one pedestal of mirrors, the only one lacking a head. The Headless Horse adjusted and straightened the plaque for that pedestal, then began walking to the rest. Like a clock spring being wound, the grip of panic tightened on Twilight’s body as the headless pony drew closer. All the versions of the Headless Horse story Twilight had heard ran through her mind. While the facts varied, one remained constant: he took your head. Immediately Twilight’s imagination ran away with her. She saw her own shrunken head on the last remaining pedestal. What her mirror would show she couldn't say, but that didn’t seem to matter compared to the prospect of being headless. Instincts told Twilight to run, to just turn and flee down the path that had brought her to the witch doctor’s lair, but one thing held her hooves to the ground. There was only one light left to snuff, and it had to be here. Where else would it be but here, being guarded by such a gruesome creature. She had to find it. If she found the light and snuffed it before the Headless Horse noticed her, then she could end Discord’s game. Yet there was no light to be seen. There was no glimmer in the mirrors and no glow in the distance. There was just the cauldron’s fire, and that didn’t make sense. All the other lights were candles. She wouldn’t need to try and put out the campfire, would she? It wasn’t beyond Discord to play around his own rules. The time he brainwashed her friends in the maze came to mind as an example. The rhyming riddle he gave never said the lights would be candles. The Headless Horse was now just a few steps away, and Twilight heard her heart pumping in her ears. She sucked in a breath as every fiber of her being prepared to run away. The witch doctor was going to lunge at her any moment. She needed a plan. She needed to jump away when he attacked. Needed to take off and fly around. Yes, she’d do that and then try to get to the cauldron. She’d overturn it with her magic and douse the fire with the brew. Unless the brew was flammable. If it was, then turning it over might set the whole place on fire. She had already escaped one flaming death trap. She didn’t need to push her luck with a second. But then what should she do? A wind spell to blow the fire out. What if she just tried to smother it? Would the Headless Horse be able to stop her? No matter what the plan, Twilight waited for the Headless Horse to make the first move. He was right beside her now, with the menacing stature of a horse. Twilight’s head barely even reached its shoulder blades. Any moment now the creature would pounce her. She knew it. He took another step. Twilight shook in her hooves. When was he going to attack? He was right there. He could just tackle her before she could get away. Why hadn’t she taken off already? The witch doctor took another step and another, continuing his patrol without pause. Twilight turned her neck very slowly, her mind racing. He hadn’t attacked? Why hadn’t he attacked? Hadn’t he seen her? Her eyes drifted to the stump of a neck. He... couldn’t see her, could he? No eyes. Relief washed over Twilight like the warm water from a shower head on a cold morning. She exhaled, even laughing a little as the air passed her lips. That was when the Headless Horse stopped dead in his tracks. The many shrunken heads hanging from his tail and mane twisted to face Twilight. Their ears were turned forward, and after a moment’s hesitation the Headless Horse himself turned and stomped toward her. Twilight sucked in another deep breath, as if trying to recapture the relieved laugh she had let escape. She then held it, taking a few steps back as the Headless Horse brought himself within inches of her nose. The ears of the shrunken heads pivoted, searching for any sound. Second after second crawled while the Headless Horse loomed over Twilight. Her lungs began to burn and her body began to rebel. Her diaphragm shoved at the air in her lungs, trying to expel it from her body like her stomach would vomit food. Her cheeks puffed and she choked on the held breath that was spoiling inside her. Still, the Headless Horse stood before her, silent and still as a statue as the ears of his shrunken heads searched for her. The world began to dim to Twilight’s eyes from lack of breathing, her body nearing the brink of either taking a breath or passing out. It was then that the Headless Horse finally turned, stepping away and returning to his patrol. Twilight’s eyes followed the witch doctor as he walked away, her body holding on a final few moments until the Headless Horse was once more on the far side of the cauldron. Only then did she dare to breathe. She exhaled the air she had trapped inside and greedily sucked in a fresh breath. Retreating from the edge of the basin as quietly as possible, Twilight hid behind the bend in the path as she waited for her breathing to return to normal. That had been too close. She leaned her back against the nearest pile of mirrors, her eyes wandering to one mirror on the far side of the path. It was turned at just the right angle, letting her see the Headless Horse’s lair as he continued his patrol, passing by each of the shrunken heads. The headless witch doctor was blind. He had no eyes of his own to see and no ears of his own to listen. But somehow he was able to listen with the ears of the shrunken heads. But with their eyes sewn shut, the heads could not see for him. That gave her an advantage. The last light, it had to be the fire beneath the cauldron. If she could extinguish it, the game would be over. Smiling, Twilight called on her magic. It was a bit far away, but even from where she sat she could reach the fire. Her magic formed a barrier around it, an air tight seal. Slowly, the flames began to die, Twilight smiling as she watched the fire smother itself with its own smoke. Then there was triumph. After a few final flickers the fire was out and the mountains of mirrors were plunged into darkness. Twilight smiled and laid back. It was over. She had won. Soon, everything would go back to normal. Discord would pop in, perhaps curse at his failure, but he’d honor the game. She had to believe he would. He’d honor it and everything would go back to normal. Cadence, Philomena, and Princess Celestia would be back to normal. It was all going to be okay. So Twilight stared into the darkness, waiting to see or feel something change. But there was nothing. She didn’t hear Discord’s voice or the sound of him snapping his claw. The cold surface of the mirror she rested her back against remained the same. The smell of the pungent potion ingredients lingered in the air. It all stayed the same. Nothing changed. The game wasn’t over. The campfire hadn’t been the final light. Twilight climbed back to her hooves. Her triumphant smile fell into a deep frown. Her eyes searched the darkness around her for something. She brought a hoof to her head, as if she might reach into her brain and find the fact she had missed. If that wasn’t the final light, then where was it? It had to be here. Why else would there be a creature like the Headless Horse? Was this a red herring meant to put her off the trail? Then Discord would have to have known she would come to this room? Had he planned for her to get caught in Philomena’s explosion? Twilight trembled, looking over her shoulder as if expecting to find Discord’s eyes looking at her from the dark, silently laughing at her the way only his eyes could. Had she been playing into his game the whole time? No, that couldn’t be right, could it? She knew better than to be tricked like this. Discord had gotten her once with his riddle, when she thought the Elements were in the hedge maze at Canterlot Castle. She was sure she had understood it correctly this time. A clack of stone against metal reached Twilight’s ears, and light began to return to the reflective hills. The Headless Horse had relit the fire and had already returned to his patrol of the shrunken heads. It must have been important for the potion, though Twilight could not tell what purpose the brew had. Perhaps it was how he shrank heads, or perhaps it was the potion that caused the horrific, silent visions to dance in the mirrors in front of the heads. No matter what, Twilight had lost the one reason to stay at the Headless Horse’s lair. There was no light here to snuff. So, she turned and snuck quietly back into the dark mountains of mirrors, retracing the path back to the hallway where she would use her first plan. She would break a window, fly outside, and get back to the front entrance of the castle. ~~~ Twilight looked on into the lair of the Headless Horse, who was still patrolling the shrunken heads. It was hard for to say how long she was gone. Her sense of time was fading like smoke in the air. She knew it had been a long while, though. Her legs were sore and her eyes heavy. She had been walking for so long, trying to find her way back to the hallway where she had crashed. But she had been unable to find the way. The paths between the hills were a maze of their own. The mirrors made for poor landmarks, and the strange effect of darkness on the castle plagued her as well. She had tried breaking mirrors to mark her path, but like the candles and torches in the corridors, things reverted back to their previous state whenever she got too far away. She had no evidence to prove it, but she was sure she had been walking in circles. Circles that had brought her back time and again to the lair of the headless witch doctor. There was only one hope Twilight saw. The Headless Horse had come into his lair from the other side when she had first discovered the basin amidst the mirrored mountains. There had to be a path on the far side. A path that might finally lead her out of the room and to the rest of the castle. But to get there, she had to cross the Headless Horse’s lair. Twilight stood back a few ginger steps from the edge of the Headless Horse’s patrol route, contemplating her options.The simplest thing to would be to fly over. Yes, just glide through the air, well above the reach of the Headless Horse, and land once she was well out of earshot. She wouldn’t have to worry about the Headless Horse hearing her. Even if he managed to pick up on the sound of her wings, he didn’t pose the same threat as Philomena had. The Headless Horse had no wings. Twilight flexed the muscles of her wings, extending them from her body in preparation for the simple, straight forward, foolproof plan. “Ah!” The stab of pain from her wing hit Twilight hard, and she was unable to quiet her voice before the yelp escaped. The Headless Horse hesitated only a moment before he came galloping at her, hooves like thunder against the floor. He was like a force of nature, and in her panic Twilight could only think of one thing to do. She called on her magic, blinking away just before the Headless Horse could trample her. She reappeared just a few feet back, landing on one of the towering piles of mirrors. Her hooves scrambled, trying to get a grip until she managed to grasp the top of a long, full body mirror. She held tight, belly pressed against the surface as her legs dangled back. She was not far from the safe, level ground. She’d just have to slide a few inches down the mirror to be back on her own hooves. But Twilight did not dare make a move as her eyes remained locked on the Headless Horse. The monstrous equine was standing exactly where she had been, hooves shifting anxiously as the ears of his shrunken heads twitched and turned in every direction on. Twilight didn’t even dare to breathe as she watched, waited, and mentally begged that the Headless Horse would not hear her. “Please, don’t come closer,” she thought to herself. “Don’t turn me into a shrunken head.” For several tortuous seconds, the Headless Horse remained resolute, not moving an inch as his shrunken heads searched for any sounds. But finally he turned away, returning to the patrol he maintained like it was an unforsakable duty. Twilight let herself breathe again when he turned away, sliding down the mirror and putting her hooves back on solid ground. She then looked to her wing, carefully extending it. It had been sore, like much of her body. After enduring an explosion and a crash landing through a window, Twilight was thankful she wasn’t in worse condition. She had not, however, noticed how injured one of her wings was. The joint was swollen. When it was folded against her side, it wasn’t so bad. It just ached a little. Extending it, however, sent a bolt of pain shooting up her nervous system to stab at the core of her brain. Flying wasn’t an option anymore. Gingerly tucking her wing back against her side, Twilight looked to the Headless Horse. He was still walking the edge of his lair, his path still passing by each pedestal and its accompanying shrunken head. His pace was constant and controlled. The steady rhythm of his hoofsteps was like the reliable clicking of a metronome. She still needed to get across to the far side of the headless witch doctor’s lair. She had to get to the other path and hope it would lead her out of the mirrored mountains. But she couldn’t fly, and once more teleportation felt like a risk. She could not see the path on the far side. Her view was blocked by the cauldron. And her teleportation spell was not silent. There was sound when she disappeared and another when she reappeared. She had lucked out with her previous teleportation spell. The galloping of the Headless Horse had masked the sound of her blinking back into reality. She could not count on being that lucky a second time. There was only one way across. It was possible. She just had to do all she could to ensure the Headless Horse did not notice her. So Twilight began with a single, tentative step. As if creeping across a creaky floor, she gingerly tipped-hoofed into the lair of the Headless Horse. She watched the witch doctor intently. With each step he took, Twilight tried to take one of her own. It was difficult. With the difference in their heights, the Headless Horse took much longer strides then Twilight could manage silently. She had to take steps when she could, sometimes waiting for the witch doctor to take five to six strides before finally making another move of her own. It was an excruciating experience. She had never had to think so much about the mechanics of walking. She had to control every muscle with such precision to ensure the sound of her steps was minimized. A gnawing headache began to form at the base of her horn, and the aches and pains of her body magnified from the strain. But through it all, her plan was working. The Headless Horse had not noticed her, and she had reached the halfway point. She now stood next to his bubbling cauldron, the pungent smell of the ingredients mixing to form a coordinated attack against her nose. The few sweet smells she had caught on the wind when approaching the witch doctor’s lair were washed away by the odors of rot and decay. The smell alone made Twilight want to gag, but she forced down the urge to cough and refocused on the Headless Horse. She took another step with him, synchronizing the fall of her right front hoof with his back left. They touched at the same time, any sound she made was muffled by his own hoofstep. She was that much closer to the exit. There was only one more thing Twilight had to circumvent before she’d have a straight shot to the other path. The empty pedestal stood before her. There was no shrunken head, and its mirror acted as a mirror should. It reflected the surroundings as they were and nothing more. It would take a few steps to walk around the pedestal, to give it the wide birth Twilight felt was necessary. But that was okay. It was just a few more steps. Everything was going well so far. She could afford to take a few more steps. One step to the right. Another step to the right and slightly forward. A third step forward and she was already halfway passed the pedestal. The path was within clear sight now, and the urge just to teleport to it was overwhelming. But Twilight stuck to her plan. She’d make no sound, raise no suspicion. The Headless Horse would not even know she was there. The Headless Horse was looping back around to Twilight’s right side as she took a fourth step, putting the pedestal next to her left wing. She could now see the reflection of the mirror in the periphery of her vision. She could see the shrunken heads, but something was wrong. The mirrors, they weren’t showing the horrors anymore. They were all showing the same thing: a welcoming office. There was a comfortable looking chair and a large couch where the pony the accompanying shrunken head belonged to sat on, as if waiting. Twilight turned her head to the right, stopping in her tracks as her mind tried to piece together the discrepancies in what she was seeing. When she looked directly at the mirrors paired with the shrunken heads, they showed horrific scenes. They showed ponies being mauled, being chased, and otherwise being tormented. But the mirror next to her, when it reflected the horrible visions of its brothers, they changed. And the Headless Horse changed as well. The Headless Horse’s reflection was an ember orange pony in a festive, pumpkin themed sweatervest. He was a pony that looked stressed and worn out. He was muttering something to himself and looking to the shrunken heads. Twilight tried to make out what he was saying, but could only pick up on a few words from reading his lips: “Can’t,” “Problems,” “Own,” “Doctor,” “Rock,” and “Mountain.” The Headless Horse stepped out of the mirror’s view, and so too did the reflected pony disappear. There was a temptation in Twilight’s mind to stay where she was, to wait until the Headless Horse had made another lap and to try and read his lips once more. But Luna’s note rang in her mind as well. She had to smash the mirrors. Why did she have to smash the mirrors? Were they part of Discord’s game? Were they meant to confuse her? If that was their purpose, they were working. In thinking of the draconequus, Twilight’s eyes were drawn to the empty pedestal that accompanied the mirror. She turned her head, her mane brushing against the stack of mirrors and the plaque that had been hung from one, small nail. Like the other plaques, this one had been engraved with a name. Seven letters that only drove Twilight’s mind into greater confusion. DISCORD The pedestal beside her was meant for Discord’s shrunken head, but that didn’t make sense. Discord would never let himself get caught by one of his own traps unless it was to make some cruel joke. Twilight expected to see the letters in the wood morph as she watched them, to change into her name perhaps. But they remained, as permanent as they could be. It was too much to process. There were too many questions that needed to be answered, but Twilight knew she couldn’t stay and try figure everything out where she was. She had to get away from the Headless Horse. Then she could sit down, rest, and try to make sense of everything. She was so close. All she had to do was turn her head back and— The sound of the wooden plaque clattering the floor made Twilight’s heart skip a beat. Her mane, in its reproduction of Princess Celestia’s hair, had brushed against the plaque. When she had turned to look at the pedestal the slight nudge had caused no harm. When she turned back, however, her mane caught on the edge of the plaque, tugging at its corner gently. Twilight hadn’t even felt it, but the result unmistakably echoed across the mirrored mountains. From behind, Twilight could already hear the thundering gallop of the Headless Horse. She leapt forward, avoiding an enraged stomp from the witch doctor by mere inches. She galloped, closing the final few feet of the Headless Horse’s lair and entering the winding path that had been her goal. The Headless Horse, however, did not give up his pursuit as he had before. He was like a living earthquake, every step sending tremors through the reflective hills that bordered the path. Mirrors began to fall from the piles, crashing against the floor in explosions of shards. Twilight had to dodge left and right to avoid the rockslide of glass, metal, and wood. She stumbled and leapt. She skidded around turns and shielded herself magically against mirrors she could not avoid. She did everything and anything she could to keep galloping. To slow down was to become another shrunken head of the headless witch doctor. But a glimmer of hope showed through the dark. The endless expanse of reflective hills was receding. The ceiling and walls of the room were coming back into view. Twilight even caught glimpses of a door in some of the mirrors. There was a way out, and she was getting closer. She just had to keep running. The burn of her lungs, the throb of her strained muscles, they had been hindrances earlier when she fled from other monstrosities in the castle. She was numb to that pain now. To be tired, sore, and alive was a million times better than what would happen to her if she was caught by something like the headless witch doctor. You never wanted to be caught by the Headless Horse. No matter the form, no matter how he appeared, and no matter how you told the story, you couldn’t let yourself get caught. If he caught you, you were never heard from again. A clatter reached Twilight’s ears, rising out from the cacophony of stomping hooves and falling mirrors. It was a thick thud accompanied by the scraping of metal against stone. It sounded too big and heavy to be a mirror, and soon Twilight caught a glimpse of its source. She was nearing the exit. A few more bends in the path, and she would have been able to escape. If Princess Celestia had not just broken down the door. The sun princess stood in the doorway, lips still turned into a sneering smile. Drool dripped to the floor as the light from her horn flooded the room. She was still on the hunt, her eyes focused like those of a hungry predator. Twilight looked back over her shoulder. The Headless Horse was chasing her and Princess Celestia was now at the exit, blocking the only way out. She was trapped, stuck between two creatures who wanted nothing more to put an end to her existence, either as a meal or a shrunken head. What could she do? There were no offshoots on the path. She couldn’t turn around and go the other way. She couldn’t fly. All she had was her magic, but even that would be difficult to use. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but running. Going this fast, sprinting this hard, and pushing through pain took all the mental fortitude she could muster. She would not have even been able to sustain the light from her own horn if the spell required even a scrap of concentration. She rounded the last bend in the path. It was just a straight shot to the door, and Celestia had seen her now. The princess unleashed her gruesome roar again, her mouth and jaw stretching and unhinging like the maw of a snake. The princess began to gallop at Twilight, the thunder of her hooves mixing with the sound of the Headless Horse. They were like two trains barreling towards one another on the same track, and she was stuck in the middle. Two trains on the same track with no way to avoid one another. It was her last hope. A last desperate chance, and Twilight seized it with her mind and soul. She slowed her speed, still running but not at a breakneck pace. She cleared her mind, even as the Headless Horse and Celestia drew in. One spell, that’s all it would take. One dangerous, blind teleport. She could not see where she would land. If she teleported too high, she would fall and could injure herself. If she sent herself too low, parts of her legs could get magically fused to the floor. Too far to the left or right and the surrounding mirrors would become part of her anatomy. So many risks, only once chance, and with Celestia and the Headless Horse inches away, Twilight took the leap. She blinked out of existence, disappearing moments before the Headless Horse and Princess Celestia collided. Twilight reappeared after the collision had occurred, her hooves reaching for the ground. She had been a little high. She had stumbled a little bit. But she had performed the spell within a safe margin for error. She had done it and gladly galloped towards the open door even as her legs felt like they were turning to jelly. She got out into the hallway that adjoined the Headless Horse’s room. She then turned, calling on her magic to pick up the door that Princess Celestia had beaten down. It was then, when she was looking back, that Twilight caught a glimpse of something. Celestia was now in the throes of combat, she and the Headless Horse duking it out there amongst the mountains of mirrors. Celestia cast magic and tried to sink her teeth into the Headless Horse while he fought like a primitive equine, swinging his forelegs and trying to land the occasional buck. That, however, was not what drew Twilight's eyes. She looked in the mirrors surrounding the pair, her eyes fixed on the reflections. She saw, once more, the plain, simple, ember-orange pony in a sweater vest, just as she had seen him in the mirror’s reflection back in the Headless Horse’s lair. But what she didn’t see was Princess Celestia. No, the mirrors did not reflect Celestia’s white coat. They did not reflect the princess’s mane, still dyed purple to match Twilight's normal style. They did not reflect a sun cutie mark. No, they reflected a black coat and a starfield mane. They reflected piercing emerald eyes, and a purple, splotchy cutie mark with a crescent moon. Celestia’s reflection was that of Nightmare Moon, the only semblance between the two being their twisted mouths filled beyond capacity with drool-dripping fangs. Twilight stared for several seconds before the crash of breaking mirrors brought her back to reality. Celestia had just blasted the Headless Horse into one pile of mirrors. Perhaps it was the end of the fight. Perhaps it was just the first devastating blow of many. For Twilight, it didn’t matter. She refocused her magic, hauling the door back into its frame. She used her magic to repair the hinges and latch as much as she could. She then turned and ran, trying to put as much distance between herself and that door as possible. ~~~ Exhausted, hungry, and aching, Twilight leaned her body against the cool, comforting stone of the castle’s corridor. She couldn’t say how far she ran. She didn’t know for certain if she was safe from Celestia or the Headless Horse. It truly didn’t matter. She needed to stop. She needed to rest. She needed the nightmare to be over. Legs giving out beneath her, Twilight slid down until she was laying on the ground. Tears slipped from her eyes. It was too much. She couldn’t do it by herself. She needed help. She wanted her friends. She wanted her brother. She wanted her sister-in-law. She wanted her mother and father. She wanted the game to be over. Bringing her legs close to her body, she began to curl into a fetal position. She grabbed her tail with her forehooves, holding it. She trembled, thinking of Celestia, Cadance, and Philomena. Had they tried to snuff the three lights as she had? Was that what happened to a pony if they failed? What about Luna’s rules? Princess Luna had said the rules would keep her safe, but Twilight felt they had done nothing but lead her to the darkest horrors of the castle. Those rules were to keep her safe, but now she was bruised, beaten, and bloodied. She couldn’t fly. She wouldn’t be able to save herself if Princess Celestia found her right now. It was... it was just over. The only comfort was the looming embrace of sleep. She wanted to sleep. She didn’t want to see the end coming. She wanted to be asleep when the Headless Horse or Celestia or Cadance or Philomena or whoever finally caught up with her. It would be over quick if she got taken in her sleep. For once, she wanted to go someplace small and quiet. She gladly pick being buried alive in a casket over this. She’d trade her bed for a stone tomb and let Spike seal her in every night like a vampire if it meant she didn’t have to deal with this. She wanted to scream her plea bargain to the darkness, in hopes that it might give her the peace and solitude of the tomb. But she still feared Princess Celestia. She was afraid her own mentor, a pony she looked up to above so many others, would round a corner with that sneering mouth full of teeth. And this, perhaps, was the greatest pain. Celestia had fallen to this darkness, had failed at Discord’s game. What hope did she have of succeeding? “Please, anypony, I need help. Please,” Twilight whimpered. She took one forehoof from her tail, rubbing at her eyes to try clear her tear blurred vision. And it was after that, when she opened her eyes to look again, she saw a light. It was down the hallway, coming from a room with a cracked door. There was a sound in the air, a scraping of metal against stone. Twilight pressed herself against the wall, fearing the worst, but nothing came from the door. It just remained cracked, light seeping between its seams while the scraping sound continued. Twilight stared at that door for a long time before finally mustering the strength and courage to get to her hooves. She walked gingerly, muscles aching from the strain they had been put through. She second guessed her decision with every step. She turned her back on the door more than once, intending to just walk away. But the light was warm, like the light in the room where Luna slept. Maybe this was where Luna was sleeping. She had just seen Celestia. She could have been back in that part of the castle. Luna’s room was a sanctuary against everything, a place to be safe. She could sleep there and recover her strength. It was like finding an oasis in the desert, and Twilight wanted to believe it was real more than anything. She wanted to believe it wasn’t a trap or some other part of the sick game. So she raised a hoof, placed it on the door, and pushed. The light poured over Twilight, and she stepped into the room. It was a guest bedchamber, very similar to the one where Luna slept. The light was coming from a lantern hanging from one of the bed’s posts. The furniture had been shoved around, leaving a single large part of the stone wall exposed. One pony sat facing that wall, a royal guard of Canterlot. The mare was lost in a dream, like so many other ponies in the castle. But this mare was one Twilight recognized. This guard was a pony she had met that fateful night, one of the few to survive the trip into the catacombs of the ancient castle. It was a guard who possessed two swords. One lay on the ground near her flank. The other was held in the mare’s teeth, being used as a tool to scratch at the wall. “Twin Blades,” Twilight said, stepping up behind the mare. She reached out a hoof, but then retracted it. She didn’t know what would happen if she disturbed Twin Blades. She might start to change, like all the other ponies Twilight had seen. But that concern fell away to other, more pressing thoughts as Twilight's eyes moved to the wall. Words had been haphazardly scratched into the stone, all seemingly done by Twin Blades’ and her sword. Some things were repeated ad nauseum. “Mirrors,” “Library,” and “Five Lights” dotted the wall at different sizes and angles. Other phrases appeared only once. “Don’t Snuff The Lights” “Truths Mirrored are Lies” “Lies Mirrored are Truth” “Not Discord” At the center of it all, scratched with the largest lettering and with the deepest cuts, were two words. Two words that left Twilight’s jaw hanging as her mind reeled in disbelief. Two words that brought into question everything she had done. Two words that made other oddities she had seen seem like more than just random occurrences. “Luna Lies” ===================================================================== Questions, Comments, Concerns? pen.stroke.pony@gmail.com My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic © Hasbro I do not own the intellectual properties this fan-fiction is based on. =====================================================================