Cold.
Damp.
Dark figures that periodically switched between the shapes of ponies and tentacular abominations swam in the air above her, forcing her onto the hard earth. She strained against them to no avail as they splayed her out and bound each limb, even her wings and tail, to the ground with coarse rope that chafed and burned. No amount of twisting and squirming could break her free.
Something within her groaned and cried out to the shadows, but received no answer.
Then knives appeared in the air before her, and she screamed.
She turned to the void within, crying for sanctuary, and it answered. Black shadow and purple light burst forth from her horn and engulfed the shadows looming over her, like fire on sawdust. Her bonds snapped, and she took the opportunity to surge to her hooves. Magic consumed the shadows and turned them to fiery ash, which she inhaled in turn.
She coughed and choked as the ash seared her throat and lungs, but it permeated the air like an omnipresent cloud that she couldn’t escape. Beating her wings stirred up more trouble instead of clearing the air. She tried to scream, but that only let more ash in.
Fire.
Heat.
She stumbled like a drunken mare in the storm of glowing cinders, blind and deaf as she drew closer and closer to asphyxiation.
Then…
“Enough.”
A thunderous voice pierced the smothering cloud, and a roaring, unidirectional gale put an end to the chaotic storm of smouldering particles. She braced herself as it blew everything away, until she stood alone in a black void dotted with stars.
And then Twilight opened her eyes.
She groaned and flung the blanket off, shifting here and there in an attempt to find a spot that wasn’t damp with sweat, but that only alerted her to the queasy condition of her stomach.
Ugh.
With precision and speed that only practice could give, Twilight crawled to the edge of the bed and leaned over what Spike had taken to calling the ‘chuck bucket’, which she always kept ready in case she needed to make a deposit. She held her position for what felt like five solid minutes, constantly re-evaluating her condition and wondering if it was safe to go back to sleep.
Unfortunately, her belly didn’t feel quite ready to surrender its contents, and yet felt too bloated and unsettled for her to lie down again. The mild ache in her horn and the slow spin of the room didn’t help very much, either. Eventually, she decided that the small chance of settling things quietly wasn’t worth sitting up all night on the verge of throwing up, so she tried to ‘help’ things along by prodding her belly.
A wave of nausea washed over her, but didn’t quite push her over the edge. Gritting her teeth, she fought through the hazy feeling in her horn and produced a directionless surge of magic in the hopes of exacerbating her—
Oh, shoot.
A torrent of her stomach’s contents surged up her throat and out her mouth and nostrils, and she was treated to the stench of a half-digested concoction of pineapple, grass, porridge and stomach acid. A second heave sent another wave of the acrid stuff up, and she mentally cussed away as she poured out her heart and soul into the bucket, pausing only long enough to draw ragged breaths.
She eventually stopped, but only after nearly a minute of dry-heaving. Still, clearing her stomach left her feeling a lot better, and she even managed to empty the bucket and rinse her mouth out in the adjacent bathroom before it stank up her room.
Once done, she stumbled back into bed and promptly burrowed under the covers.
Still alive.
* * * * *
Though she felt glad that the world had stopped spinning by the time Celestia had brought up the sun, she realised that she could no longer ignore the growing frequency of her bad dreams. If memory served, Luna had even seen fit to intervene the previous night. Taking into account the resurgence of withdrawal symptoms in the past week or so, that added up to a sign of trouble in the near future. It sometimes kept her from sleep when the other symptoms didn’t.
Eight twenty-three. Spike had already gone down to do his chores.
Sighing wistfully at the fantasy of sleeping in all day, Twilight left the warm bed and shivered all the way to the bathroom. Once presentable, she made her way to the study to go over her notes and checklist for the day.
Contrary to her suspicions, Chippy never came back to cause trouble, and nopony else tried to foist more magical exotics upon her. That left her wondering if that incident four weeks ago had just been a fluke of unrelated circumstances. A bit of research and questions here and there revealed a little of the mare’s background as a resident of Hollow Shades who made a living foraging for and selling organic rarities and collectibles in that remote valley; hardly the shady pony that any authority would even consider worth investigating. Whatever the case, so long as it never came back to bite her in the tail, she could live without knowing how the mare had crossed paths with her in such a specific way.
The missing books, on the other hoof…
Despite searching all over the place, even in the basement of the old library, they could not find any of the missing volumes. Having exhausted reasonable alternatives, she’d eventually settled on ordering new copies to replace them.
Four titles in unrelated fields – botany, warding and psychology – gone without a trace.
She muttered under her breath as she went downstairs for breakfast.
“Hey, is it okay if I hang out today? After my chores, I mean,” Spike asked as they ate alone in the secondary dining hall.
“Oh. Not keen on measuring the tree’s growth?”
He twiddled his claws. “Well, the Crusaders asked me if I could help them with something…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not.”
“Well, just try to keep them from overdoing things, okay?”
Spike snorted. “Heh, you might as well ask for the moon while you’re at it. I’m just damage control.” He paused to demolish a sandwich, then added, “By the way, I ordered the new copies as you asked. Mr Dusty’s giving you a discount for getting a third set of books this quarter.”
Twilight efforts of crunching through a spoonful of cereal gradually slowed until her jaw came to a standstill.
A third set? When did that happen?
She hastily gulped down her mouthful. “Are you sure he got the right customer? I don’t remember ordering any other books recently.”
Spike shrugged. “I asked him, too. He seemed pretty sure about it.”
“This is weird. After you’re done with the CMC, can you triple-check our catalogue and purchase records?”
“Aww, but—”
“Please? I just want to make sure he isn’t sending stuff to us by mistake.” Her frown deepened. “Also, to see if we’re missing anything else. I don’t like what’s going on right now. If you run into anything weird, I’ll help you sort it out when I get back from Canterlot.”
“All right, I’ll get on it,” Spike replied.
With her morning meal finished, Twilight trotted over to him and patted him on the shoulder before retrieving her equipment for the old library.
She spent the rest of the morning inspecting nearly every inch and taking measurements of the enchanted oak, marvelling at its rapid recovery. Several new shoots had sprung up high on the outer wall regardless of the light snowfall, probably helped along by the fertiliser deposits she’d placed close to the root system in the basement.
“Hmmm,” she murmured when she finally came back outside. The sun was already on the western portion of the sky, and the distant chiming of town hall’s clock confirmed that it was a bit past noon.
I guess time flies when you’re being productive.
She glanced down at her summary.
- Estimated 8% increase in growth rate
- Low on fertiliser, remember to restock
- Soil moisture and acidity within optimal range
- Temperature slightly below comfort level, keep an eye out for hoarfrost
- 5 beetle grubs extracted, holes sealed with wax
- Fungal growth in lesions on eastern wall removed
- Some rust on tools. Must acquire drying crystals to keep in toolbox
- Double-checked for missing books again. No sign of them
- Next check due: approx. 7 days
Satisfied with the morning’s work, she placed the notebook back into her saddlebags and cast a glance in the direction of Canterlot, wondering if she could make a safe flight today. She flexed her wings experimentally and found to her surprise that they itched just a bit on her triceps. A quick inspection revealed no discernible insect bites, though that probably could be explained by her coming into contact with some fungal matter whilst cleaning out lesions in the oak’s wood. Come to think of it, she itched in a few other places as well, and detected a hint of an ache in some of her back muscles.
Probably just bad posturing whilst collecting data. Spike’s gonna’ have a field day telling me off.
Between that and her queasiness the night before, she decided to take the train instead. But only after a thorough bath.
* * * * *
Twilight grimaced when Luna landed a blow squarely on her midriff. She blocked the next thrust, then quickly slipped inside Luna’s reach and slammed an elbow into her chest, following with a quick slap of her wing to the back of the head. That got a rather satisfying grunt from her.
Yikes!
She didn’t expect Luna to wrap a foreleg around her barrel, though. The world spun in a whirlwind of snowflakes, stars and shadows for a second before she hit the ground with all of Luna’s weight on top of her. Air whooshed out of her lungs, followed by a groan when her body registered the pressure that her teacher was exerting on her limbs.
“You are surprisingly fierce and reckless tonight,” Luna commented as she released Twilight.
She hopped back into position and shivered a little as some of the wetness on her coat from the icy ground seeped down to her skin. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Indeed. Would you care to talk about it?”
Twilight took Luna’s relaxed posture as an invitation to elaborate. She clearly considered it important enough to put their exercise on hold.
“Well, I’m actually not sure what’s wrong.”
“Talking would still help, I believe.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know; I feel like I’ve been losing ground in the last couple of weeks. I sometimes can’t stand being in the same room with somepony actively using magic or I’ll get all zombie-like creepy; I get sick in the middle of the night; and the bad dreams…”
“Are rather consistent in nature?” Luna offered.
“Yeah. I almost always start off helpless, and then I kind of break free, only to realise that I still have no control over my situation. It’s… unsettling.” She stared at the ground for a moment, then carried on. “And that’s not all. I’ve had some books mysteriously disappear, and then suppliers who claim that they’ve given me stuff I never ordered. In real life, I mean. There are times when I feel like I know what’s going on, but it turns out I really don’t have a clue…”
Luna remained silent.
“I can’t—I just feel like something’s waiting to go wrong. Rainbow and AJ are always going on about gut feelings, and I think I get that now.” She hung her head. “It’s completely unscientific, but it’s really hard to ignore.”
“Anxiety might be a product of overworking—”
“I don’t overwork!” Twilight snapped, then shrank back when Luna raised an eyebrow. “Sorry.”
“Perhaps we should continue another time?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ll manage. It helps take my mind off things for a while.”
“Do you promise to consider discussing this further? Burying your troubles would do no good.”
Twilight flexed her limbs and dropped into her practiced combat stance. “I promise. Let’s go.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Luna complied with a nod. As they sparred, she went back to metally cataloguing the changes her body went through as the evening wore on, carefully adjusting her expenditure of energy and fighting style to maximise efficiency and minimise risk of injury. She didn’t plan on prematurely wearing herself out and giving Luna more cause to worry.
But despite her best efforts to pace herself, her muscles seemed to reach the pain threshold much sooner than usual. It started off with an itchy kind of pain around her chest and in her limbs, like an insect bite that had been scratched to the point of breaking the skin. Though unusual, she did not consider it worth stopping to investigate.
Then the pain intensified into a burning sensation, and she wondered how she’d managed to strain so many muscles simultaneously. But she wasted no time wondering about that because Luna appeared to have lost the initiative in combat; her teacher seemed perplexed at first – maybe because of her shift towards a more aggressive onslaught of lunges, dashes and hoof swipes – but that quickly gave way to worry, and Twilight grinned at the prospect of putting her on the defensive for once.
“Sparkle,” said Luna.
Twilight ignored her searing muscles and spurred herself on, closing in for another strike, angling just a bit to the—
“Stop!”
Twilight braked with her wings and skidded a bit as she came to an abrupt halt in front of Luna.
“What?” she asked irritably, feeling a little cheated out of a possible victory.
Luna stared at her. Or rather, at something on her chest. Twilight followed her gaze and blinked when she saw streaks of red paint on her chest and legs. She also noticed a few crimson droplets spattered against the thin, greyish layer of snow on the ground. And then she realised that the burning sensations she’d felt corresponded with the red lines. As each breath expanded her chest, the lines would darken and droplets of red would swell out before they quickly soaked into her coat or ran down her legs. Pain spiked wherever her sweat mixed into the red lines.
A coppery scent reached her nostrils, and she reared up in panic, flinging specks of red all over the place. “Wha—why am I bleeding? What did I do wrong?”
She twisted and squirmed when Luna placed both hooves on her shoulders, but the gentle yet firm hold eventually helped her to stop hyperventilating.
“Field surgeon, now!” Luna barked as she herded Twilight towards shelter. Then, as the sound of a guard at full gallop faded away, she lit up a brazier, turned to Twilight and said, “Let me have a look.”
Twilight sat on her haunches within the warmth of the brazier’s coals, then forced herself to take a few deep, calming breaths. She closed her eyes and waited for her heart rate to drop a bit before she felt steady enough to ask, “What’s going on?”
“Hmm,” said Luna as she peered at one a wound on her foreleg. “I think we should wait for the expert’s assessment. Ah, here he comes.”
A bat-winged pony with first-aid supplies slung over his back flapped over, landed deftly by her side, and immediately began scrutinising her wounds and pressing lumps of gauze over them without so much as a hello. Unlike Luna, he went about his business as if inspecting an inanimate object for defects as opposed to a living patient, which Twilight found slightly disconcerting.
“This is Sickle Cell; I’m told he has terrible bedside manners,” Luna commented dryly.
“You’re thinking of doctors; playing nice wastes time on the battlefield,” the scruffy stallion replied without taking his eyes off the still-bleeding wounds.
“Umm, this isn’t a battlefield,” Twilight pointed out.
“Principle of the thing, Your Highness. Besides, soldiers don’t want a field surgeon going all mushy, ‘cause if I’m being nice to you, it means you’re dying and beyond my help.”
Luna chuckled at his response, and Twilight had a brief mental image of a dozen or so smart-mouthed stallions standing in a line before the Princess of the Night, auditioning for their roles as Night Guards by demonstrating their capacity for macabre humour.
“Argh!”
The weird thought vanished when Sickle pressed some stinging poultice onto her wounds. Now that her adrenaline had worn off, she had nothing to dull the blade-like pain in her torn flesh, and the knowledge that he was trying to help wasn’t quite enough to forgive his lack of warning. At the very least, she thought that he deserved the hiss and glare that she’d given him.
“Odd. Most of your lacerations are shallow and easily dealt with, but a couple of these are deeper than the slits on your skin would indicate. Very uneven tissue damage – gonna’ need stitches for those. Your coat’s remarkably intact, too,” Sickle commented with a frown before he gazed sternly at each of them in turn. “Seriously, what have you two been up to? It looks like your meat has ruptured.”
And you’re not helping!
Okay, that’s not true.
Twilight hissed and gritted her teeth as he continued working on her. Although he obviously meant well, that didn’t stop his efforts from feeling like he’d taken a saw to her skin. Between the agonising applications of poultice to her wounds, she managed to squeeze out a few words. “I don’t know what happened—ouch! We… weren’t doing anything – nngh! – unusual. They appeared out of nowhere!”
Then, an idea occurred to her, and she felt a slight chill as she turned to Luna and asked, “Is this another symptom of withdrawal?”
Luna shook her head. “It is not known to me, and any texts on the subject have never mentioned such… visceral side effects.”
“Whatever the case, you’re not in any condition to spar with Princess Luna,” Sickle interjected as he whipped out a suture kit filled with more needles and other bladed instruments than Twilight cared for. “Her Royal Highness has indicated that you do not respond well to magic at the moment, so we’re going manual with stitching you up. I’ll need to shave around your wounds to make room for that. Hold still, please.”
As much as she disliked having her coat crudely shaved and a needle and thread pulled through her skin, she did have to admire his skill at manipulating his tools with mouth and hooves that could almost rival a unicorn’s magical precision. Could she ever match that kind of skill in just about anything without magic? The thought of going through life without it made her legs turn to jelly, and guilt poked at her for all the times when she might’ve childishly pitied others for not having or being as good with magic as she was…
She stewed in those thoughts for a while as Sickle went about his business.
“And… we’re done,” he finally announced as he taped some gauze over the last wound. “No roughhousing until they’ve healed properly – I’ll keep an eye on you while you’re in Canterlot – and be sure to change the dressing if it gets soaked with blood. Bathing won’t be necessary, but if you absolutely have to, wait for at least a couple of days; you really don’t want water softening up the healing tissue and encouraging infection. Don’t apply soap to the wounds, but I suppose you’d figure that out anyway after you stop screaming. The sutures will dissolve after a while, but for the love of celery, don’t scratch when it starts itching. If you think you’re going insane, come see me and I’ll prescribe a practice sword so you can take it out on a training dummy. Or my apprentice, if you prefer.”
She nodded slowly as she attempted to parse through his barrage of instructions. “Okay.”
“Questions?” he prompted.
She eyed the patches of gauze on her body, noting the red blotches spreading out from the middle of each. The poultice had finally taken effect and dulled the pain, but they still hurt enough to make her wince when she flexed a leg. On top of that, nopony could tell her what had caused her skin to split open like an overcooked wheat sausage.
A big, purple sausage filled with blood…
She shivered and shrank inwards, staring at the ground. “I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on anymore.”
“Not a question, but understandable,” Sickle replied. “I’ll admit that I’m stumped as well. I’d advise staying close to a hospital for the next week or two, just in case it’s a recurring symptom. Though, I still suspect that you just got a little too enthusiastic with combat training. You sure it didn’t involve any magic?”
“Whatever the cause, I am certain we shall discover it in due time,” Luna added as she placed a wing reassuringly on Twilight’s shoulder. “But for now, you should heed his words and rest in Canterlot.”
“For how long?” she blurted. “I mean, I’ve got duties, schedules, audiences—”
“That can all wait until you are restored to health,” Luna sternly interjected. “There will be others who will gladly perform your duties in your stead until you can return to Ponyville.”
Twilight bit her lip when the prospect of going home brought another concern to light. “What if this happens again in Ponyville? What if it happens while I’m asleep?” She felt the colour drain from her face. “Oh, what if Spike finds me bleeding out in bed? He’ll be—”
“Perfectly capable of notifying somepony who can help. If the Equestrian Games is anything to go by, he has proven quite capable of acting in a crisis,” Luna pointed out sternly. “But you are right; an episode at an unlikely hour can prove… detrimental.”
Luna turned to Sickle and inclined her head. “Thank you. You may return to your post.”
“Your Highnesses.” The stallion bowed and promptly trotted off.
“Are you well enough to walk?”
Twilight nodded.
“Come, then. I believe I have something that may help.”
Although reluctant to leave the warmth of the brazier, Twilight followed her from the garrison all the way back to the palace proper. Between the light snowfall and Luna keeping to the shadows, their journey through the streets remained uneventful and free from any interactions with passers-by. Once they got into the palace, though, avoiding attention proved impossible.
Everypony’s eyes widened when they beheld Ponyville’s resident princess trotting after Princess Luna, covered in patches of gauze that were already turning red from soaked blood, wincing whenever an overlong step stretched a wound. It reminded her of the stares she used to get after Ponyville’s couriers had nearly flattened her with a whole cartload of furniture. Thankfully, Luna’s steely gaze turned out pretty effective at making ponies lose interest in her, especially the servants and guards.
They ascended the winding stairs into Luna’s tower, and when they got to her chambers, she went straight to a sizeable, ornate chest sitting in a corner. At Luna’s request, Twilight sat and waited on the bed as she rummaged through its contents. After a moment, she heard the click of a key turning in its hole, and Luna came back carrying a lockbox that looked ancient with worn-out scratches and notches on its dark wood.
With great care, Luna pulled an amulet with a silvery chain from the little box. It had a diamond-like gem in its centre, which glowed with the same colour as Luna’s magic when she lit up her horn. Though only a brief display of alicorn magic, Twilight turned away and studiously ignored it. Once the blue glow had faded away, she turned back and found that the gem had turned into a brilliant sapphire that seemed to hum with stored energy.
“Are you familiar with lifeward amulets?” Luna asked.
She shook her head. “Only a little.”
“Not surprising, given their dwindling use since the advance of modern medicine. If you suffer any injury or ailment that puts your life in danger whilst wearing this amulet, the lifeward spell will activate and imbue you with a little energy to maintain consciousness and vital functions. It will also alert a keeper – myself, in this case – to your plight, and I shall come to your aid with all due haste, wherever you may be.”
Twilight admired the way the gem seemed to contain a swirling pool of tiny lights within and said, “That sounds really useful. Why don’t hospitals use this?”
“I imagine it is because they are rather difficult and expensive to craft; only a few mastered the art in my time, and such trinkets belonged almost exclusively to those rich enough to afford them. But more to the point: why bother when your modern contraptions can do as much without requiring a unicorn to operate? As I have come to understand, many pegasi and earth ponies have joined the ranks of healers.” Luna’s expression grew pensive as she held it out for inspection, as if remembering some time distant and long gone, before she chuckled and continued, “Still, it does have the advantage of range. This one is of exceptional quality and can alert me even whilst you are in Ponyville. The only downside is that you do have to wear it all the time, even whilst sleeping.”
“Wait,” Twilight cried, taking a couple of steps backwards when Luna drew close, apparently with the intention of putting it around her neck. “That thing has magic. What—what if I, you know, try to break it and soak up what’s inside?”
“There is a risk, that much is true. Try it on and see if it causes you distress. I shall intervene if you need assistance.”
Luna hoofed over the amulet, and Twilight took it as reluctantly as she would a firecracker with a lit and extremely short fuse. It felt a little warm, and her hunger stirred a little when she had it around her neck with the gem resting on her chest, but to her relief, it turned out no worse than being in close proximity to a typical unicorn. She could put up with that. With a little time, it should become nothing more than background noise that she could tune out.
“How do you feel?”
Twilight prodded it, in case a little movement might aggravate its effects, but it still felt relatively inert for something so magical. “I think it’s manageable,” she declared.
“Good. In any case, I have placed a failsafe ward that would quickly discharge its magic as harmless light if the amulet is damaged or tampered with.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She glanced down at it and smiled a little. “Hmm, it’s kind of pretty, too.”
Luna nodded. “Then it is settled. Consider it a gift.”
Twilight mumbled her thanks as she turned the amulet over and around in her hooves to admire the intricate silverwork. It twisted and flowed around the gem like cresting waves, and curved into two points above and below the gem into the shape of a crescent moon.
She blinked. “Did somepony make this for you? The style fits your, umm, theme.”
Luna chuckled. “You imply that anything night-related is made in my name. But yes, Tia had this one crafted for me – ” she turned to look at the sky outside, and her gaze grew distant, “ – a long time ago, when she was my guardian as much as my sister.”
“Oh, wow.” The amulet suddenly appeared a little too special, too regal for her to wear. “Are you sure? I mean, it sounds like it means a lot to you.”
“It does, and it is also mine to give,” Luna replied with a smile. “Besides, it would be foolish to keep it hidden in a box when it can serve its true purpose. Also,” her smile turned a little sheepish, “I have to admit: at times, I see you as the little sister I never had. Not that I wish to usurp your brother’s place, of course—”
Oh, why not. She’s been acting like a good one, anyway.
Twilight hugged her, and then winced when Luna’s initially ginger reciprocation grew into a proper embrace that made her freshly treated wounds protest. Good thing that she couldn’t see her wince; Luna really seemed to appreciate the gesture, if her strength was any indication.
Ow.
At that moment, whether by luck or desperation, her stomach decided let loose a deep, hollow growl, like a manticore trapped in a well.
Luna broke off and stared critically at her belly, before she nodded gravely and said, “I concur; a good meal would help to offset your blood loss.” She then grinned mischievously and pointed a hoof viciously to the rest of the palace, as if ordering an army to advance. “I am feeling rather peckish, myself. Come; let us raid the royal kitchens!”