//------------------------------// // Sage Old Thing // Story: The Watchful Eye // by Mr Anomalous //------------------------------// Sage Old Thing If there's one thing Compass knew, it was that something was wrong with his grandfather. Yes, he was a perfectly kind and loveable old stallion, almost to a fault, but he wasn't always exactly . . . right in the head. And it wasn't his age, either--he wasn't really that old. It was definitely something else. But it never meant any harm, so it never was quite a big deal. Until now. Compass heard a distant squeak and then a thud and, lightning-quick, sat up in his bad, throwing his quilt back. That sounded like the door. The young stallion crept from his room and hurried down the rickety wooden stairs. His grandfather was always a bit off, but he had never simply left in the middle of the night. Unless he already had left and was already returning. Compass hoped he wasn't in trouble. But no, Compass's previous fear was true, as the empty bedroom revealed; Sage Brush, the nice old stallion from 2nd Street, was gone. Compass went down the second flight of stairs and peered out the window. There was nothing moving outside, but there was a definite set of hoofsteps in the frosty ground. Compass hurriedly levitated a cloak off a nearby hook, as well as a lantern, which hi promptly lit, and opened the green-painted door, stepping outside into the crispy, midnight air. Compass was not mad or irritated--on the contrary--he found the entire situation almost amusing. Sage had always been funny, even when he did not mean to be. And so Compass ventured forth, tracking his guardian across town, holding down shivers. This year's winter was closing in fast; he would need to go out and get firewood soon. Slowly, Compass's amusement began to vanish when he realized that Sage was still nowhere in sight. The old goat, he couldn't move that fast, could he? Apparently so. Compass ground to a halt. "Uh-oh," he said. Sage's set of hoofprints was leading directly into the Whitetail woods. Now Compass was beginning to feel a bit irritated. - - - Celestia stood, frowning down at the wounded guards while Twilight spoke with each of them. None of them remembered much, just loud noises, blurs, and then darkness. Not even any pain, apparently. "What could this mean?" Twilight finally asked. Princess Celestia did not immediately answer. "I do not know," she eventually said, "But I beleive that the Eye may have outside help." This, of course, had already occurred to Twilight. "What do you think? A rouge pony or two?" "Perhaps," Celestia answered, nodding thoughtfully. "Or perhaps the Eye is not alone." "Are you . . . suggesting that there is another alien about?" Twilight asked, a nervous feeling returning. "Yes. That is certainly possible. is it not?" "Well . . . " Twilight said, "Based off of everything so far, anything is possible." Celestia nodded again. "Well then," she said, "I suppose we need to prepare to catch two monsters." "Uh, yes, Celestia. I'll work on it," Twilight said. Everyone parted, the guards to their homes, Twilight to her chambers to begin working on a new plan, and Celestia to the balcony. Perhaps Luna had seen something. - - - Wisp and all of his fellow wounded guards, including Swift Eye, were sent home early. This he did not understand; his head throbbed and his leg was broken, nothing major at all. He sighed but left the Palace and went on his way home after leaving his armor at the armory. He limped through the busy streets of Canterlot, nodding greetings at those he knew--which turned out to be a lot--and he weaved through the streets. He then pondered renting an apartment somewhere closer to the Palace. Wisp ground his teeth a bit, but then decided to take the shortcut home. He ducked into a dark alleyway and suddenly found himself in a entirely different world. Everything was a shade darker, the noises outside muffled, and the smell was considerably worse. Wisp went onward, eyes searching the shadows, looking out for potential thieves That may or may not have been an unnecessary precaution; crime rates were low in Canterlot, Equestria as a whole before the Eye, but now they were bordering on virtually nonexistant. There was one thing the alien did good. The alien . . . "Alien!" Wisp shouted as he came face to face with a pair of dark, circular lenses. Oh no, not now, not now! Not with his wounded leg! The alien took a step forward and raised his arm, grasping not a crowbar, surprisingly, but a warhammer. Wisp did not have time to reflect upon this, however, as he was bracing himself to dodge. But then another alien appendage came out of the darkness and placed itself upon the other's shoulder. Wisp noticed that the one in front of him looked different than the one he had captured. "Goddesses above," he muttered, "There are two of them . . . ." The creature looked behind itself, then back at Wisp, and then lowered its weapon. Soon, Wisp was left alone in the darkness again, panting and sweating. "Damn aliens," he said.