Vampire.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the mansion.
Am I really…?
I remembered the smell of Shimerelle's blood and the delicious, comforting drink Vinyl had served me.
Really…?
I'd made some half-hearted excuses to Shimerelle and escaped to class as fast as I could. Seeing her bleed… smelling her bleed had been profoundly unsettling. I wasn't bad with blood; or I'd never been bad with blood before. But near her, I couldn't stop myself from smelling it, wanting it. That had shaken me, the sudden, intense, alien craving. I wasn't used to struggling with impulses. Self-control was second nature.
I'd wandered through class in a daze, more worried than I cared to admit. My naturally cool demeanor had masked my internal turmoil, and I was reasonably confident I'd avoided attention. I hadn't really cleared my head until I'd gotten back to the apartment, done my homework, and practiced my cello.
Music always helped. I'd slept fairly well after that.
Now, I'd taken another step in my plan. My classes on Tuesday ended early, and I'd headed directly to the mansion afterwards.
I ambled through the house, taking notes and inspecting, trying to understand. I slowly re-created what I could, tracing the hints left behind, but being careful to minimize my own tracks.
My music search was as I'd left it. I glanced at the files I'd been rummaging, taking a second to return them to their places. I sighed, wondering about the music I'd sought, but resigned myself to finding it another day.
As I assembled pieces, a frown started to form on my face. I was no tracker, but with the amount of dirt and grime layering the house, I didn't need to be. There were four visible sets of hoofprints.
My own were obvious. The other three were a little more obscure.
One was clearly a pegasus. They started and stopped suddenly, even going so far as to leap from a balcony to the floor of the main hall. They were unshod, the hooves of somepony who didn’t walk much. Another set of prints, the most common, were also unshod but also obviously unkempt. The edges were cracked and rough. The last set had small, almost dainty shoes with a decorative edge.
There were no real signs of struggle until I reached the garden.
Even there, I didn't find much. A few broken branches, a patch or two of scraped dirt and a neat circle, carefully incised in the sod.
Not much at all.
I sighed, slumping in the shade of a tree and trying to think. I hadn't come here with any real expectations, but I'd hoped to find something concrete, something useful.
Finally, tired of moping and unable to jar any more ideas loose from my brain, I left.
"Octavia!"
I was trotting out the door, carefully closing it behind me, when my brother showed up.
"Summer?" I looked up, searching for him. He swooped in for a landing, gracefully settling on the walkway, a deep brown pegasus with a windswept sunset-gold mane. "Summer!" I galloped over and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his dark wings around me and squeezed me back.
"It's good to see you, sis. But what are you doing here?"
"Well…" I drew a breath, about to tell him everything, but my feelings of trepidation gave me pause. If I started making ridiculous claims, he'd have trouble taking me seriously. Maybe jumping in the deep end wasn't a great choice. "I was looking for sheet music. Mom said she might have left some." I drew back. He wasn't wearing his armor, but I noticed the badge clipped to his chest. "Are you here on Royal Guard business? Don't you normally work in the city?"
"Normally, yeah." He shrugged. "But my boss asked me to check this place over since it's our house and land. Apparently there've been reports of something strange going on here, and he needed an opinion on whether to contact the Hunters. Are you okay? Did you notice anything?"
"Hunters?" I cued on the unfamiliar name. "Who are they?"
"Um…" He scratched his head. "It's… hard to explain."
"I'm all ears." I flicked one towards him, and he grinned.
"Alright, sure. Well, have you ever heard stories of strange things happening? Stuff that's wrong, but more than just normal wrong?"
"Like changeling attacks?"
"Yes, exactly. Something like a changeling attack. The Hunters are a group of, well, freelancers who deal with that sort of thing."
"And that's legal?" I frowned. "Shouldn't the Guard take care of it?"
"Well…" He coughed, slightly embarrassed. "Not to impugn the Guard, but most of us are pretty… normal. Sure, we get basic training, and a few of us can actually fight—" he grinned "—but specialists are specialists. And it's totally legal. They're organized and licensed; the boss worked it all out with Her Majesty, and half the time, we're the ones who hire them. They're almost auxiliary."
"…oh." My mind whirled. "Say, Summer. Have you heard anything about vampires?"
"Vampires?" He grimaced. "Look, sis, that's exactly the sort of thing I'm talking about. The Guard keeps the peace. We deal with crimes of all sorts, but anything involving criminal magic gets handed off to a qualified detective, who usually goes to the Hunters if it's both magic and dangerous. We don't get many of those. Why?" His eyes sharpened. "Tavi, you are okay, right? Did you notice anything when you were here?"
"I might have heard some noises," I said meekly. "Upstairs. In the night."
"Really?" He leaned in, excited. "Tell me everything!"
"Um, there's not much to tell." I shrank back from his inquisitive gaze. Suddenly, the sunlight seemed a little too bright, his eyes a little too piercing. "I was in the basement, and I heard some noises. I thought it was just the house settling."
"Oh." He stepped back, slightly disappointed. "Well, I'll have a look myself. See you around!"
"Sure." I gave him another hug and turned down the pathway, lost in thought. I was halfway to the road when I realized what I'd done.
"I just lied to my brother." I stopped dead, realizing. “I trust my brother.” I almost turned back, but something stopped me. "I just lied to my brother, and I don’t even know why."
"Octavia?"
As usual when I was unsettled, I tried to find solace in my cello and the music I loved best.
"Hmm?" I looked up from my practice. "Shimerelle, how are you?"
"Oh, something crazy happened!" She bounced into my room like a ray of sunshine. "You know how I'm doing a project on unicorn flight, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, I got permission to watch the pegasus phys ed; the basic one, where they play airball, and you wouldn't believe it, but there's a dragon in the class!"
"What?" I gave her a sharp look. "A dragon? Really?"
"Really!" Her green eyes went wide. "A dragon! He's really cool. He's got these ice-blue scales and huge wings, and he looks a lot like a pony, but you can tell he's not because of how he flies. He's not very good with the rules, though." She paused. "Have you been playing scales all afternoon?"
"The basics are important." I set down my bow. "And I did go for a walk." The mansion was a ways out of town.
"But you've been alooone?" She drew the word out, mincing closer on the tips of her hooves.
"Yes." I nodded hesitantly. I had a pretty good idea what she was about to suggest.
"You should come hang out with me! Some of us are going downtown for supper. Come along, it'll be fun!"
"Um." I glanced out the window. Normally, I'd have considered it seriously, but it looked so bright outside.
"Come on! Staying cooped up in here isn't good for you. You'll feel better if you spend some time with other ponies. Even I can see you've got a strange look in your eyes."
"My eyes look strange?"
"Nothing a little company won't fix!" She gave me a cheerful smile.
"Uh, right. I'll think about it." I set my cello on its stand and carefully pushed her out the door.
"Let me know if you're coming!" she called as I closed it.
"Sure," I mumbled, turning to my mirror. I leaned in close, trying to focus on my own eyes. When I realized what I was seeing, the surprise was oddly muted, as if my emotions had a blanket over them.
My pupils were slightly elliptical.
It wasn't much; just a little thinning. Still, they were noticeably narrower at the top and bottom than in the middle. I looked out the window again, at the too-harsh sunlight, and my mood dropped even lower. I turned despondently back to my cello. Music would help.
And for a while, it did. It wasn't until the sun was nearly set that I realized my notes were wobbling.
My bow squeaked, pulling me from my reverie. I frowned, pausing in the middle of my scales. I tried to firm my grip on my instrument, but I suddenly felt weak and unsteady. Moving carefully, I tenderly returned the cello to its stand.
I paced for a moment, trying to get a grip on what I was feeling. My legs were steady, but I felt quivery and uneasy. A gleam of setting sun shot through the curtains, and I shied away. I stumbled over to the mirror for another look at my eyes. They'd become even more slit, almost to the level of a cat's. I pulled my lip back, staring in muted horror at teeth that suddenly seemed more pointed and vicious than before.
Now shaking with real apprehension, I carefully walked over to my bed and collapsed. As I lay there, shivering under the weight of confusion and fear, I tried to think clearly. For the first time in years, though, calm, collected thought betrayed me. My mind kept spinning in circles. Something had happened; something was happening to me. I had no idea what it was, but it scared me. Every solution I considered seemed to darken with further consideration. I imagined fear, scorn, and revulsion in response to telling anypony. I couldn't even convince myself to tell my family; my mind just kept circling back around to that grim smile Vinyl had given me, and I'd push the idea away, beginning the cycle again.
Finally, I forced myself upright, and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water. If I couldn't do anything worthwhile, I'd at least do something. I wanted to be moving, acting, even if it was just so I wasn't laying paralyzed.
I couldn't lift the glass.
Stymied, I nearly burst into tears. Ever since I'd learned to lift things as a foal, I'd taken the small magic of my hooves for granted. It was something you didn't think about, like getting your eyes to focus. I tapped the glass again and again, hoping it would be different, but nothing happened. I remembered the quavers in my notes, felt the unsteady rolling in my gut, and came to a frightening conclusion.
I was losing my magic.
I'd never been a particularly powerful pony. I had the strength, of course, and on occasion, I felt the flows of life that so entranced some earth ponies. Still, I'd never had much occasion for using my magic. It was just there.
I'd never realized just how much I depended on it. Without magic, I couldn't play my cello. I remembered the way the sun had seared me and shuddered, my apprehension and uncertainty returning with a crash. What would I do? Where would I go? Who could I trust?
I was actually sniffling, standing mutely by the sink, tapping a water glass ineffectually, when Shimerelle came home.
"I'm baaaack~!" she sang, pushing the door open. "Tavia? Hellooo?"
I froze. I couldn't let her see me like this. I couldn't let her ask questions; I couldn't face her care. I needed to hide, to run, to–
Part of me, a distant, calm, collected part, wanted me to pause and examine that train of thought. There was something off about it; something that didn't fit with the careful control I'd cultivated for so long. Whispered worries were pushed aside, though, as I heard dainty hoofsteps twinkle into the entryway. One doorway between us; I needed to be gone now.
Another part of me, a part that had teeth and shifty eyes, surged forward. Suddenly, my need crystallized into action. I stepped forwards, positioning myself directly next to the door. It swung open, shielding me from view, as Shimerelle stepped into the room. She reached for the lightswitch, and I realized with muted surprise that it had been pitch dark ever since the sun finished setting. I'd never even noticed.
I slit my eyes as the light flashed on. I moved with silent hoofsteps, casually stepping behind my roommate and walking out the door. She never looked back, never heard a sound. I slipped out the front door, even as she started towards my room.
I'd been right behind her, and she'd never even realized. I closed the door silently and set off into the night.
At first, I kept mainly to the university campus. It didn't take long for me to realize just how different things were for me today; even in the dark I saw clearly. It wasn't like the light of day. Instead, colors were more muted, and details seemed fuzzier. Yellow and blue were sharper than red and green, but I could still discern faces and coats for the most part.
As I wandered, I found myself slipping unconsciously around passerby. It was almost as if I could feel where their eyes and attention fell. I simply avoided their gaze, casually skirting the edges of their awareness. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hardly even noticed what I was up to until I slid right through a small clump of ponies, and none of them even paused in their conversation.
As I wandered, some of the tension slowly faded from me. I knew I had a problem. I knew I needed to face it. I also knew that, for now, there was nothing I could do, so I did my best to shelve it and get my emotions back on track. It was slow going, but I eventually stopped feeling quite so desperate.
Finally, I reached the edge of the college and looked out into the town. I still had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, but the urge to go and do were still strong, so I just kept walking.
The light was more textured between the buildings. Instead of the scattered illumination of windows and doors from the college, streetlights marked sharp circles of brightness, dividing the dark with crisp lines. I wove between them, sticking to the shadows.
It felt right, somehow.
I looked up, catching the moon as a cloud slipped past. It was getting late, but I didn't feel tired. A buzzing, twanging energy drove me onwards. I wound my way down from the high neighborhoods into the denser buildings near the bottom of the city. I took to the alleyways, reveling in the deeper darkness and high walls. A sense of purpose began to creep over me as I moved from shadow to shadow. My general feelings of discomfort began crystallizing into a goal beyond simply moving. I began glancing into doorways, peering up staircases and sweeping my gaze over the detritus that accumulates in the crevices of civilization. I was no longer simply drifting. I was searching for something, now.
I hardly realized what I was doing as I began edging closer and closer to the sounds of life. Before, I'd been avoiding ponies. I'd kept to quiet streets, slipping past the occasional pedestrian, seeking out a little solitude in the shadows. Now, though, I felt like what I sought, my elusive purpose, was nearer the brighter lit, more populated streets.
I quickly drifted towards downtown. Canterlot was a large city, and even on a weeknight, there were ponies up and about. I continued moving subtly, not so much stealthy as just casually on the edge of notice. As the amount of pedestrians increased, ponies moving from bar to restaurant and store to bar, a few of them started catching my eye. My gaze would skim past, before something in me caught, and I'd find myself watching them.
It might be something small. That one's limping. Or something larger. That one's nearly blind. Finally, though, as I worked my way from shadow to shadow up a larger street, heading towards an even tighter squeeze of bars and ponies, one grabbed my attention and held it firmly. She's bleeding.
Without even considering what I was doing, I started after her. She slowly led me away from the street, leaving most of the night-goers behind. Normally, tracing hoofsteps in a dark street would have made me uncomfortable, but now I only felt a slight thrill.
After a moment, that worried me enough to stop.
I paused in a shadow, letting my mind freewheel. My thoughts spun in circles, some of the desperation from before seeping back in. I'd smoothed it over with my walk, but… once I paused, I realized just how alien my actions and thoughts were. I'd been feeling stranger and stranger since yesterday, and now it was even affecting my attitudes and habits? Had I just been… stalking?
I almost turned back, about to slip back towards less inhabited streets, but a sudden movement caught my eye. I turned back to the pony I'd been watching to find her staring back at me.
Smiling.
I had no reactions for this. My thoughts were confused, my instincts a mess. I just stood stock-still, frozen, as she slowly walked over to me.
"My…" I had a half-registered impression of her, a jumble of dappled shadows and lamplight, as she paced up and leaned uncomfortably close. "You look simply delicious."
"That's funny." My voice was flat; I barely even listened to what I was saying. "I was thinking the same of you." She took a half-step back at that, hooves clicking loud on the cobblestones. Then her smile grew even wider. Some remnant of my discipline kept my eyes hooded, my stance firm. I was absolutely unsure of what to do here, but that was no reason to let it show.
After a moment of silence, her smell changed. The air wafting off her faded from warm and comforting to a fresh, living scent. It was wind off the forest, alien to the hard streets and stone walls of the city. Her smile grew even wider, stretching impossibly towards her ears as her eyes grew deeper and more lustrous.
"Hmmm…."
For a second, I thought she was speaking, but her voice just went on, quickly passing where a normal pony would need to draw breath. My ears twitched as I caught a faint, lilting tune just on edge of hearing. It swam on the edge of recognition, something I should understand but couldn't. I strained to catch it, trying to grasp the elusive sound, engrossed in curiosity.
I didn't even notice that she'd moved closer until something whirred past my nose and clanked into her head.
"Huh?" My attention returned as she gasped, falling backwards. For a second, her coat seemed to tear, revealing something underneath, a swirling green strangeness. She skittered back, looking behind me in surprise before awkwardly leaping to her hooves and clattering away. I looked down at the projectile. It was a simple iron horseshoe.
"Hey, you okay?" A gentle hoof shook me. I flinched, my bemused mind still awash with confusion.
"Sorry, I’m just–" I looked over at the interloper. My mind registered the green coat and sungleam eyes, recognition clicking into place and flooding me with renewed panic.
"-Lyra?" I gasped.
"Octavia?" She sounded nearly as surprised as me. I didn't give her time to think. I whirled, intending to be gone. A yank on my tail brought me up short. Unable to run, I nearly curled up into a ball, about to surrender to the conflict raging in my mind.
"Good grief." I felt a shoulder steady me and half-collapsed on it. "Never would have guessed it was you. You're in a bad way. Good thing one of us found you. Let's get you back to Vinyl."
Recognition surprised me again. But unable to escape, unable to argue, tired to death of feeling so lost, I snatched at the single thread of familiarity offered to me and nodded weakly.
"O-Okay."
"Feeling better?"
I stared morosely into my mug. Vinyl's kitchen was brightly lit, dusted with the detritus of a busy day. She sighed slowly, resting her chin on a hoof. Lyra sat next to me, calm eyes covering a hint of worry.
"Is this really…?" I lifted my eyes from the dark liquid to her face.
"Yeah." We sat in silence for another long moment until she slammed a hoof on the table, rattling it and making me jump. "Octavia, right?" Her voice was level, but her nostrils flared with suppressed frustration. I nodded slowly.
"First rule of being a bloodsucker. Always, always have some on hoof."
"I—"
"Quiet." She stared at me until I closed my mouth. "I'm giving this to you straight, because I won't... can't keep you here if you want to leave." Her eyes flicked to the door, and she shoved the bottle across the table at me. "Take it when you go. Half-cup in the morning, half in the evening, and most of the symptoms should stay… suppressed. Cravings, paranoia, photosensitivity. The longer you starve, the worse things will get. You were maybe half, two-thirds gone when Lyra found you." She lowered her shades, shooting me a piercing glare with her deep red eyes. "It gets worse. Trust me, you don't want to go farther. Did your magic start faltering?"
I nodded curtly.
"Yeah, okay. Don't let it go that far again. That's the beginning of the really bad stuff. If you need more, come find me." She huffed, and settled back into silence.
I sipped my drink again.
"Look, Vinyl—" Lyra broke the silence, moving to stand.
"I'm sorry." I composed my features, enunciating clearly. Both of them turned to me, and I drew a long, shuddering breath, despite my care. "I… sorry." I slumped again, unsure. I was comfortable with apologies, but this… actually being sorry, this was hard. "Thank you for your help. I’m sorry for... for the way I treated you."
"I—" Vinyl started.
"Vinyl." Lyra cut her off.
"I forgive you." She shot Lyra a glare. "Right, okay. Yeah, I was pissed when you disappeared like that, but…" Her features softened slightly. "I'm mad at myself, too, and it's unfair to let that out on you." She rubbed her eyes with a hoof, before holding it out to me. "Look, let's… just forget about it. We got off to a rocky start, I'm good at that. Call it quits, 'k?"
"Thank you," I said faintly, tapping her hoof with my own. "Really."
"You're very welcome." She gave me a firm nod. "This city is wild; we've got to look after each other. I'm just glad you didn't do something you'd regret." There was wry twist to her voice, but she shook her head and smiled. "I wish we had time to talk, but you're going to crash hard. You'd better get home soon."
"I'll take you." Lyra cut in. "I'm headed that way."
"We need to talk." I picked up the bottle, checking the stopper. "Can I—"
"Come back whenever." Vinyl waved a hoof. "I'm usually around during the day. Be careful, you two."
"Will do," Lyra replied.
We mostly walked back in silence. My mind was still spinning, and Lyra, from what little time we'd spent together, was a quiet sort. She showed me to my door but stopped me right before I slipped inside.
"Octavia, do you wear iron shoes?"
"No." I glanced at my lightly-shod hooves, uncertain why she was asking.
"Here." She slipped one of hers off, the same one she'd thrown earlier. "Keep this on you. Vinyl's good, but she really doesn't get some of this stuff. There's more to this life than just going through the motions. Right now you're ignorant, different, and unfortunately, weak." She sighed. "There's no kind way to say this, but the best way to sum up that description is prey. I doubt that Pict will go after you again, but… just in case. Get a set of iron shoes and wear them until you know why."
I hesitantly took the shoe. I stared for a moment, relief washing through me as I realized I could grasp it normally. I looked up after a moment, but that one act of normalcy seemed to unbind the strange muffling on my thoughts. I nearly staggered as a sudden clamor of reality exploded into my mind, a thousand reactions and emotions leaping to life, each vying for the attention it should have received hours ago. I staggered.
"Aaaaand there it goes." She gave me a warm smile and stepped in for a hug, which I shakily returned. "Get to bed, get some sleep. You'll feel miles better tomorrow."
"Right." I stumbled inside, feeling my way to my room. I barely took the time to kick off my shoes and slough off my scarf before collapsing. "Right…" I mumbled, even as sleep rolled in.