//------------------------------//
// Chapter: 10 Tales of the Myst Pony 
// Story: Empty Pages 
// by Blind Gardener 
//------------------------------//

Twilight slunk through the gentrified avenues of Inner Canterlot. A cloak of heavy fog was sluggishly sloughing to the streets around her, the fascinating side effect of an overpowered silencing spell stilling the hot humid air around her. To herself, she loudly sang the popular themesong of a street puppet show about an equestrian spy in the zebra lands.

It was fortunate that only those very close to Twilight would be able to hear her singing past the sound damping, for she was as badly out of tune as a sack of damp grifflets. She could not remember the words, so she made up her own.

Behind her slunk an unfortunate Earth Pony Guard, by the name of Avocado Hill. Avocado's Cheyenne green body blended well with the darkness of the night. Her golden uniform did not. She held a clipboard, with a quill on a string attached to it, in her mouth. She occasionally ducked down to write down phonetic approximations of the nightmarish eldritch chanting whispering from the mist-enshrouded banshee that she followed.

Avocado felt like there were worms crawling behind her eyes. Her mane was disheveled and, in a massive betrayal for an object made from braided wire, her torc was beginning to look frazzled. The apparition ahead of her paused in its stride and began to sniff at the air. Avocado once more ducked behind a hedgerow, teeth clattering in the unpleasant chill emanating from the ghastly creature.

Suddenly, with a pop, it vanished. Avocado shrieked, and glanced around looking for a place to hide in this upscale neighborhood. She found it in a small dog castle that was clearly large enough for a slight pony like her to slip into. It was modeled after Canterlot Castle.

The owner of the small castle would discover her in the morning, curled up into a small ball and shivering in fear. He would poke her with his wet little nose, waking her from her nightmares. He would then dutifully bring his master. By the time he had made himself understood to his owner, however, Avocado would already be well on her way back to headquarters to file her somewhat embarrassing report. Hard Knocks would nod seriously, then duck into the breakroom to guffaw uncontrollably.

3 years, and some therapy, later Avocado would look back at the memory as a fond recollection of the hazing that 'builds community among the guards'. 5 years from this event she would adopt a stray puppy, and find it to be one of the more rewarding moments of her life. 8 years from this event, she would send one of her own wet-behind-the-ears patrol partners on a similar wild goose chase as a member of the newly minted Night Guard, reinstated under the returned Princess Luna.

In the here and now, however, Avocado was frightened and alone, and the steady snore of the sleeping dog was a warm reprieve from the unnatural bubble of silence surrounding the spectre.





The Blueblood Family Summer Palace was not a palace in the same sense that the Princess' castle was a palace, for that would be ostentatious. Rather the opulent structure was constructed of sturdy materials by long deceased masters at the pinnacles of their craft. The rich carpets were deep enough and comfortable enough for a pony to sink into, but to one unversed in the maker's marks and long extinct quarries whose distinct grains the stones carried, the palace of the Bluebloods might not seem much more than a particularly nice mansion. There were no intricate filigrees that could break away with time, no gilding that could wear down. Only the inhabitants of the structure were unprotected from the ravages of time.

Within the mansion, Twilight Sparkle appeared within a standing closet with a soft pop. Teleporting, especially blind teleporting, took a lot out of a young filly. Twilight was now exhausted both magically and physically. She kicked open the door to the wardrobe open from the inside, then finally dropped her spell of silencing. She looked around the room. Bed, fireplace, bookshelves... looked like a bedroom. She was tired, and she knew that whichever pony she was searching for was likely somewhere nearby. So, with a yawn, she crawled onto the bed near the fireplace, and closed her eyes for a quick rest.

She was fast asleep soon after.