Solid navy hooves connect with soft earth as a rain-soaked stallion gallops into the foreboding Everfree Forest. A soft groan is heard as the golden mare upon a stocky pegasus stallion’s back shifts, jarred and shaken with his every step and ragged breath. The dark-coated pony halts in his tracks, flinging dirt in every direction. He gently uses the base of his hoof to adjust the injured pony upon his back, ensuring the mare’s shattered chest wouldn’t be further jostled, her crimson blood spilling out onto his fur and mane. A crack of thunder echoes in the distance and heralds another gust of intense wind that nearly knocks them both to the ground. The rain burns their skin as it pelts upon them like icy bullets. He hushes the injured mare gently as she sobs and whines.
“Everything will be alright. We’re almost there.” He encourages her, though in truth the exhausted male was really trying to reassure himself more than comfort the broken mare, knowing she would likely not be awake to hear him at this point. A short wooden hut appears in the woods before them, and though he was completely out of breath and every muscle in his body protests his sudden movement, he tilts forward and breaks out into a run towards the soft-spoken alchemist’s home. The zebra inside hears the slamming of hooves against earth and the harsh panting of what sounded like a pony, and is, at first, reluctant to open her door. When the stallion finally comes clearly into her line of sight, however, she is able to see the limp body of another clinging to his back, she quickly changes her mind and bolts out her home’s door.
“Is it my eyes that have gone slack, or is that a pony on your back?” comes her warm voice into the darkness of her forest home, alerting the approaching pony to her presence (his neck currently craned back to hold the yellow mare in place). His face snaps forward and he spews the first words he can think of.
“The ponies in town; they told me you were good with magical injuries-“ the stallion speaks, stumbling over his words and breathing heavily.
“That I am, child. But why is it you have come so far into these wilds? Why not see Dr. Goodm—” the zebra attempts, her fumbling for words disjointed and stutter-y as she did her best not to drop her usual calm rhyme.
The desperate stallion shifts on his hooves and swiftly slips past the tall zebra and through the door of the decorated hut, not speaking a single word. The door slams against the hut’s outer wall, accidentally kicked in the pony’s rush to get inside.
“My goodness, little one, are-“ she begins attempting to discern just what was wrong. The moment the syllable of her next word slipped from her mouth, the navy stallion fell to his front forelegs, nearly throwing his ‘cargo’. The gentle hooves of the striped equine quickly scoop the golden mare from his back. Seeing that the one he had carried his entire trek to the alchemist’s home was safe, he finally collapsed forward, his adrenaline rush finally ceasing, landing on his chest with his hind legs clattering loudly to the floor.
“-fine…Have you returned to the light, little pegasi?” the zebra asks the dark-coated stallion as he finally comes to.
“Y-yeah…” is his hoarse response, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes.
“I hope you do not feel too drained. But, what, may I ask, is your name?” she whispers gently to the tired pony.
“Evebringer.”
“I was not expecting a visitor, especially two so ready to die. Though, to get her here, why did you not just fly?” she questions, a little curious. Evebringer motions to his left wing (previously tucked under his body), and upon inspection, the zebra finds his primary feathers to be cut, or more accurately, ripped short. She gently holds Evebringer’s wing in her hoof, to see the normally long and soft feathers of a pegasus have been plucked, torn, and even scorched away. The skin exposed from the removal of his feathers seems to be lacerated and burned. Palpating the flesh reveals it to be quite tender in most spots, but what concerns her the most are the patches in which the skin has been so deeply blackened and burned that the pegasi doesn’t seem to feel anything it them whatsoever…
“Who could you have so spurned, to leave you so burned?” she mutters.
“…I dunno.” is Evebringer’s inelegant response, as he lies back on the bed he suddenly realized he was on. He sits up quickly when he remembers his charge.
“Goldies.”
“Excuse me, my little pony?”
“Golden Cosmos.” he growls.
“The other little one? With her, I am not yet done.” she answers, unphased, striding away to her small makeshift stretcher, which, as Evebringer notices, supports the mare he had carried on his back not so long ago. Her chest gently rises and falls with her breath, but she doesn’t stir when the zebra gently strokes her ginger mane. A soft black glow envelopes the gold mare’s form, too slight to be seen by the zebra alchemist or the distraught stallion.
It dissipates slowly into the air when Evebringer lays a hoof upon her foreleg, having risen from his place on the cot.
“I do not know how it came to be, but your friend has been afflicted with a strange magic, it would seem.” she speaks soothingly. Evebringer finds himself grateful for the zebra’s curt but concise answers, though he does realize belatedly that the one who had saved his friend’s life probably had a name.
“What should I call you?” Evebringer asks in a soft tone, not wanting to wake Golden Cosmos.
“You may call me Zecora.” she replies with a rather amused expression. Evebringer dazedly recalls that the ponies in town had told him where the zebra healer’s hut was, but he didn’t recall her name ever being mentioned.
“What, no rhyme?” Evebringer questions, mirroring Zecora’s soft smirk.
“It is not all the time, that I can think of a good rhyme. Perhaps I should speak a little more plainly for the time being?”
“That might help.”
“Right. Your friend has a few broken ribs and a dented horn, but other than that, she seems to be alright. The gash on her chest was of the most concern, but…” Zecora explains, pointing to a large line of missing fur. The laceration that had once marred her chest in the middle of the removed fur had since faded into a neat pink line, no more noticeable than a decades-old scar. Evebringer lifts his right hoof to his face, suddenly reminded of his own (practically ancient by now) scars. The jagged set of five cyan marks stand out strikingly on the flat of his dark blue inner hoof, and stare back at him unwaveringly.
“You’d never guess that these were rat bites. They look more like I stepped on barbed wire.” Evebringer muses.
“Excuse me?” Zecora finds herself asking again and beginning to worry that the poor stallion may have hit his head on the way here.
“Nothing.” Evebringer sighs, lowering his hoof back down again.
“Do you think her horn will be alright?”
“A unicorn’s horn is remarkably sturdy;” Zecora begins. “She seems to have taken an incredibly strong hit, but her horn barely chipped. She will likely not suffer any lasting consequences. It may even fill itself back in with time.” Zecora affirms. The tired and slightly delusional stallion wanders away and flops back onto the solid bed as he lets out a breath that he had not realized he was holding in.
“How did you…” He trails off, indicating the fine pink line on his friend’s chest without bothering to sit back up, leaving him looking rather silly laying there and lazily pointing his hoof.
“A powerful healing potion I concocted long ago, but found myself saving for emergencies. I do believe this counted as one. What is it, though, that left the two of you so injured? I haven’t seen wounds like these since…well. That is for another time. Now, it is time for you to rest.”
Evebringer doesn’t reply. He’d fallen asleep a fairly long while ago.
—
Sea Spaces cringed at the large, grimy tank presented to her by the grey pegasi before her.
“I just don’t know what went wrong!” the cross-eyed pony exclaims.
“I got the filter working and everything. But there’s still something wrong!”
The frustrated unicorn lifts a nearby net and holds it over the filthy tank in a soft teal glow.
“Do I even want to know how the fish are?” Sea grumbles, squinting in attempt to find any signs of life within the glass tank.
“Yeah! They were all okay this morning!” the grey pegasi tries to confirm.
“I pulled all of them out, and they were just fine. I think they just need to take a nap.”
Sea Spaces can’t help but contort her face in utter confusion. She had heard horror stories of the golden-eyed pony doing some very silly things, but this took the cake. Sea found herself worrying for the fish that she hold sold to the strange pegasi not but three days ago. How did the walleyed pony manage to afford buying so much in the way of aquarium supplies anyway? Wasn’t she just a postal worker?
“…What?” Derpy whines, giving Sea Spaces the best puppy eyes that she can muster.
Sea Spaces quickly dunks the small net into the tank, lifts it, prepares herself for the worst…
And promptly finds several rubber ducks, a rock, and a soaking wet muffin cradled in her net.
“Oh, thank Celestia.” Sea Spaces praises, truly grateful. She gently places the ‘fish’ on the small counter next to the disgusting fish tank. A quick few more swipes of the net into the water of the tank reveals a few marbles, some gravel, and the aquatic plant that Derpy had purchased along with the fish earlier in the week, miraculously alive and well. A soft gasp accompanies a clattering of hooves as the grey pegasi scoops up one of the rubber ducks and squishes it gently between her hooves until it lets out a small squeak.
“See!” Derpy yells, shoving her hoof containing the rubber duck into Sea Spaces’ face.
“Yes, Derpy. I see it. What is this on the top, though?” Sea asks in gentle voice.
“Oh, that’s ice cream. They got hungry,” Derpy tells the disgruntled pet shop worker as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Indeed, the thick film at the top of the tank, swirled white and brown did look like melted ice cream, but…
“Is this…a toaster?”
“I didn’t know what to feed them for breakfast!” Derpy says softly, genuine concern in her voice. A bell tolls shrilly from the direction of the front door to indicate a customer had entered.
“I’ll get right with you.” Sea groans, placing her face in the flat of her hoof in exasperation.
“Are there any actual fish in here right now? Like, real ones? That move and aren’t rubber ducks?” Sea Spaces asks, really directing her question to the ceiling, knowing any answer from Derpy wouldn’t be much of an answer at all.
“No, all the ones that you gave me are at my house!” Derpy chirps, proudly puffing her chest and striking a Wonderbolts-esque pose, hovering a few feet off the ground.
Sea Spaces finds herself sighing and shifting back onto her haunches in relief that the animals she had sold to the grey pegasi were indeed safe. Derpy had her going for a moment there.
“HEEE-LLLLOOOOO!” a pony screeches from…behind the counter?
“Nooonononono!” Sea screams as the tank on the counter in front of her nearly pitches forward and onto the floor due to Sea’s quick forward stumble in surprise. With a sharp clank, Sea Spaces manages to catch it in her hooves, leaving not more than a little scratch on the sturdy glass. A bright pink earth pony bounces excitedly behind her while simultaneously holding a medium-sized Caiman alligator.
“I wanted to come see you because you know lots about fish and I didn’t know if Gummy counted as a fish but he’s kinda scaly and likes to swim so that makes him a fish I think but oh wouldn’t that make me a fish too? Except for the scaly part I think but I think i’m a pony so that shouldn’t matter! So anyway Gummy is really hungry and I think he’s really tired of cupcakes and the vet said I should start feeding him fish and bugs but mostly she said I should feed him bugs since he’s so little and she said he’d get something called diah-bee-tees? Isn’t that wei-“ the excited pony babbles, nearly causing poor Sea to faint on the spot.
“Is there something you need?” Sea mumbles dazedly, wanting desperately to get Pinkie Pie in and out of her shop as quickly as possible.
“…Do you have any crickets?” Pinkie finally asks, acknowledging Sea’s frustration (though she still visibly deflates from the other mare’s foul mood).
“Back shelf, far left.”
“Thanks!” Pinkie happily squeaks, bouncing to the shelf Sea Spaces had indicated. The teal unicorn gently places the net off to the side and moves the tank out of her way. Derpy Hooves prods Sea Spaces in the shoulder with a wing, holding the grimy tank in her hooves and biting her lip in one of the most adorable faces imaginable.
“Derpy, do you need anything else?” Sea mumbles.
“Nope! That was it! Oh, but, is your a cutie mark supposed to be a lizard or a fish?” Derpy questions, leaning over the shop counter and balancing the tank in her wings in an impressive show of acrobatic prowess, before nearly falling onto her face on the other side.
“Neither. Now out! Out, out, out!” Sea cries, physically pushing the pegasi out the door and lifting the tank out of the precarious grip of Derpy’s wings with her magic and placing it gently next to Derpy, who now sits just outside of the doorframe with a rather confused look on her face. The unicorn swiftly slams the door, bucking it shut and rattling the door’s bell with a piercing ding.
“Hey, Sea, how much-“ Pinkie starts before shutting her mouth tightly when Sea’s current frustrations became apparent.
“Free.” Sea speaks as evenly as she possibly can, just about ready to start crying. The party pony quickly open darts out of the door, small alligator and equally small container of chirping insects in hand, closing the door as gently as possible with her teeth. Sea turns and slowly begins walk to the back room.
“It is an axolotl,” she growls in frustration.
—
Light filters softly through the handmade blinds of Zecora’s hut. Evebringer lifts his head towards the source of his newfound wakefulness. ‘It must be morning by now. How long have I been sleeping?’ he wonders sleepily. He shifts to the edge of the soft cot he had apparently been allowed to use for the night. He pushes back the blanket and sits on the side of Zecora’s cot, and sees very little, as the only light in the room seemed to be the small window, emanating the glow that had woken him. Scanning the room reveals it to be a small guest bedroom, containing very little. The lamp on the bed stand beside him appears ceramic and antique, the short bookshelves old and peeling, the floor an ancient carpet that could be no less than 20 years old. Evebringer cringes as his hooves touch the floor, a sudden soreness making itself known in his flank. His joints click and crack as he stretches his front forelegs over his head. A slight ache pinches at his lower back, but he ignores it, lifting his hooves ever so slightly higher above the crown of his head…
and promptly yelps as he feels something in his back catch and snap, like a piece of twine frays and then breaks, like a bone fractures and seems to concuss—
Evebringer quickly snaps back from his dazed state, and turns his head as far as he can to see just what was stinging him so terribly. A thin stream of blood seeps from a gash that he had reopened with his attempts to ease the tightness in his back, and realizes that said tightness seemed to be from several thick stitches holding a deep, lengthy laceration running from his first rib to his rear closed. Go figure. He presses a wide hoof to the centre of the injury to avoid irritating it further, before decidedly shifting a wing to take his hoof’s place. A bit of feeling and bumbling about leads him to the dusty doorknob of the room’s entrance. A quick turn of the knob and a little bump of his head opens it easily. His eyes sweep over the room until they finally land on the zebra tucked away in the furthest right corner of the room.
“Zecora?” he whispers hoarsely.
“Yes, child?” Zecora replies, not taking her eyes off of the large, dusty tome she was pouring over, a rather concerned look tugging at her features.
“I, uh,” Evebringer begins, not entirely sure how to phrase his question, fumbling for words he couldn’t find. He barely even knew this pony, one who had taken him into her home and given him aid, and he had gone and undone what must have been an hour’s worth of work. He cringes as he awaits her inevitable admonishment. Zecora thankfully halts his impromptu pity-party by closing her book, standing, and turning to face the dark blue pegasus. She opens her mouth to speak (no doubt to ask what in the world Evebringer was doing moving around), but stops short when she sees the way Evebringer was clutching his side in his wing. She trots swiftly to the other pony and pushes his long, thickly feathered wing out of the way. The stitches that Zecora had put in the stallion’s upper flank seemed to have held fast, but the flesh around it had been tugged and broken; and now bled. Grabbing a small sewing needle in her mouth and a bobbin of black thread that she had soaked in rubbing alcohol earlier in her hoof, Zecora took little time in threading the needle, rolling the end of the thread in her hooves to tie the end, pulling it taut…
“What are you- Mmmphf!” is Evebringer’s sudden cry as Zecora plunges the sewing needle into reddened flesh. Evebringer’s front limbs weaken, bow, and give out beneath him as irritated skin and muscle is punctured and re-stitched. He whines childishly and wildly flaps the wing opposite to the side Zecora was currently preoccupied stitching. His movement and stomping manages to knock over several knickknacks from a nearby shelf, two portraits, a priceless family heirloom…
And manages to wake Golden Cosmos. A low groan sounds from the opposite corner of the room and grabs both the attention of Evebringer and Zecora, who freeze in place.
—
Sea Spaces gently slides the display tank back into the wall. ‘What is it about today?’ Sea asks herself. Pinkie running around knocking things over, Derpy eating up her time and leaving ice cream and muffin crumbs everywhere…
She sighs and walks over to the shop’s front door and slips on a small purple saddlebag, opens the door with her teeth, and walks through. Without bothering to lock the door behind her, she wanders out into the main road of Ponyville. The town was bustling with ponies buying goods from small stands, rushing in and out of stores with the pleasant ‘ding’ of the bells in shop doors, and a few even sitting down at picnic tables and eating lunch. The aroma of pastries and sweets saturated the air, and promptly reminded Sea Spaces of the fact she hadn’t eaten since that morning. The sun was perched high above, in the highest point of its arc.
Soft dirt gave willingly under her hooves, warmed by the sun. The gentle din of ponies speaking and laughing fill the space of the town, the soft background noise seeming to inhabit every iota of the air around her. She scrunches her eyes and squints in an attempt to make out a peculiar squeaking noise in the distance, only to see a sky-blue mare upon a shabby, handmade wooden stage attempting to transform a barrel into something else, it seemed.
The young unicorn in the distance rears, balancing on her back hooves and flailing her forelimbs in the air, and speaks some kind of incantation as she holds the barrel in a rosy glow. The old wooden container gives, slightly, bending into a smaller shape and turning a whitish-beige color and becoming fuzzy as if it had grown fur, before folding in onto itself, the tortured wood snapping with an audible crack and quickly combusting into charcoal-coloured flames. Sea Spaces can’t help but giggle a bit, though she stops short when she sees the poor mare’s eyes cloud over with tears.
She quickly turns her head elsewhere. A small farm stand painted a muted green is the first thing to catch her eyes after the unicorn’s pitiful performance. The wonderful smell of baked goods and apples fills her nostrils, along with an-ever-so-slightly smoky note, like logs crackling in a fireplace. She was glad, internally, that a kindly zebra healer had long ago provided her with a small spell to enhance her mostly non-existent sense of smell. Perhaps this day wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
“Buy some apples!” a small filly cheers from a nearby stand, quickly knocking Sea back from her reminiscing.
“Buy some apples!” the same insistent filly cries while she quickly charges over to the mare and blocks her path. Sea Space’s attempts to walk forward to the stand that had been laid out ever so enticingly with various baked goods are futile as the little magenta-maned filly mirrors every movement the seafoam mare makes. She eventually gives in to the little Earth pony’s wishes, and hands over a few coins only to be quickly presented with several huge and shiny apples, one of which is devoured on the spot. The foal gleefully trots back to her stand with a swagger in her step and presents the coins to an orange mare, who pats her gently on the head. Sea Spaces munches the fruit a little bit slower, savoring her current peace and quiet (and doesn’t bother to look back at the filly that had nearly tripped her head-over-hooves). A nearby pegasus colt gawks at the mare as she returns to wolfing down the shining red and yellow fruit, but is quickly shooed with a nasty look. The other two apples are quickly stowed in her saddlepack.
After zipping her pack back up, she steps forward to the farm stand she had wished to peruse before being so rudely distracted. She notices a loud crackling in the distance, but chooses to ignore it.
“Hey.” Sea Spaces attempts. The stand’s attendant, a scrawny but tall yellow Earth stallion, immediately snaps back to attention from his previous slightly slumped-over posture. He quickly puts on his best salesman’s smile.
“W-what’ll it be?” he asks in a kind (but somewhat squeaky) voice.
“Could I maybe have one of those apple turnovers?” Sea squeaks. The salesman gently pulls toward himself one of the delicious pastries. It is quickly wrapped and bagged and several coins are exchanged for it. The salespony returns to his hunched posture as Sea stows away the turnover in her bag. She thanks him softly before skittering away.
She stills as a warm breeze blows comfortingly against her long, curly coat. She raises her head and closes her eyes for just a moment, thinking of days at the beach, counting sea turtles and watching the little aquatic lizards that had made the local shore their home, watching clouds in the sky, drawing in the sand…She drifts off into her thoughts even as an ear-piercing scream rings in the distance.
The warmth of air around her intensifies as she daydreams, starting to become almost…unbearable. It was quite alright, she wouldn’t mind a heatwave after all of this cold. At least she would be able to breathe in the heat, though come to think of it, her throat feels rather tight and dry.
A gentle tickling at the back of her throat insistently presses her to cough, but she doesn’t heed it. A somewhat stronger wind blows her curled mane into soft tangles. She swore she could hear the cracking crash of waves against the shore and the crooning of seagulls overhead (and though she didn’t like them, with their frantic wing-waving and shrieking cries, they still brought memories of warm sands and the ocean itself) along with the squeaky noise of little lizard-y feet hitting warm rocks, and…
The desire to cough becomes overwhelming as she feels hot air fill her lungs. It felt as if a ball of white-hot metal had lodged itself in her trachea. In a split second, she surges forward, her front hooves buckling and folding beneath her as the breath that had been trapped in her lungs escapes, quickly replaced with air that was too hot, too thick, and her lungs urge her to empty whatever was irritating them. Her earth-brown eyes snap open as she violently hacks away, the deep ‘barrow’ing of her cough reverberating in her chest. Around her were thick wisps of choking smoke, burning ash blowing freely through the wind around her. A nearby building began to collapse under the weight of the dusky black flames that tore easily through wood and paint.
The searing flames seemed to be coming from every which direction. Her world enveloped in grey and black, she bucked wildly as she combed her mind for something, anything that might help her, something she could use to free herself, an extinguishing spell, anything other than being consumed by the fire that now began to lick at her sides. Her stomping hooves do nothing to stem the inward flow of fire that claws at her limbs and tail.
She flails uselessly as she tries to find a patch of ground that isn’t coated in scorching flame, the world itself going dim as the fire seems to devour the light around her. She gives a final kick to the air and cries out as fire begins to climb further into her hooves. A sudden blinding light overtakes her and splashes pure white over the dark grey that had clouded her vision.
It is a few moments before her vision clears. A chill runs over Sea Spaces as she feels fluid running off of her coat. She shivers violently as her mind begins to clear.
Finally able to comprehend her surroundings, she finds herself drenched crest to hooftip in freezing seawater. Her horn glows residually from the powerful magic she’d unknowingly used. For a few hundred yards all around, the only thing in sight was wreckage and ash. Burning wood smolders around her as she pants to catch her breath.
—
Evebringer flaps his wings and shifts his position on one of Zecora’s stools. It had been hours, it felt, since the zebra had left ‘to find more Asclepius flowers and ginger’, she had stated. He fiddles with the book in his hands (that he had admittedly not even begun to read, he just truly needed something to fidget with) and swishes his short tail. Golden Cosmos sleeps fitfully just across the room, flicking her ears and twitching her bright red hooves. She had been awake earlier, briefly, but soon fell back into a light slumber. She’d sat up for a bit, drank some water, and laid back down. Her throat had been burned rather badly, and she had barely been able to rasp out a single word. Evebringer’s features soften when he thinks of how much pain the unicorn must be in. His mind drifts back to what had put the two of them in this situation.
“Eve! Look at this!” she had cried, sprinting in his direction. He yawned and sleepily turned in Golden Cosmos’s direction, wings shifting very little (as they were tucked tightly against his body to keep himself warm). Evebringer opened his mouth to make a snarky comment about Goldie’s state of mind to have dragged him from his bed to Whitetail Woods in the dead of the night for what appeared to be nothing. His jaw promptly slams shut when he sees the massive streaks of black fire that were currently preoccupied destroying the woods on the outskirts of Ponyville.
He was paralyzed in shock as Golden Cosmos fires a thick purple beam from the tip of her horn in the direction of the fire. The almost pearlescent black flames recede for a moment, lurching back, seemingly defeated. Evebringer charges forward to stand by the mare’s side, still too shocked to speak. The fire seems to be defeated…when it glows bright purple-blue, and strikes Golden Cosmos, knocking her to the ground. Evebringer instinctively surges forward and tries to lift the mare to her hooves. The flames jump and plume forward along with him, scorching his side and feathers. Blood splashes the ground as an invisible force cuts a deep line alongside the black burns on the stallion’s side, the fire doing little to cauterize the flow, almost seeming to thin his blood and pull more from his body. Evebringer panics and hefts Goldie onto his back, hurrying off in the direction of the town. The flame pulls into itself and disappears behind him when the overcast sky begins to spill onto the earth.
He startles when a crack of thunder shatters the quiet in the zebra’s home, knocking him off kilter in his seat. He tries (and fails) to right himself, wings flapping wildly (he had been doing that a lot lately, he realized), and promptly falls over onto the floor, squarely on his chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs. A flurry of soft blue feathers float gently around him, caring very little about their owner’s plight, a massive plume of them jarred loose from his wings. A single feather lands ever so softly upon the very point of his muzzle. He glares at it.
“Elegant as always.” a voice hoarsely chuckles. Evebringer scrambles to return to his hooves, but finds the old wooden flooring of the zebra’s home to be remarkably slick, his limbs sliding back into their original spread-out position. The stallion sighs theatrically, over-exaggerating his movements as he pulls his front hooves under his chest, his hind legs forward, and his wings outwards and finally stands back up. The yellow mare in front of him giggles and presses her hoof to the center of his chest where a small fringe of fur stands defiantly upwards, smoothing it back down.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Golden Cosmos rasps.
“Mostly.” Evebringer answers. Evebringer walks back over to the stool he’d tipped off of. He grabs the fallen book in his teeth and places it atop the stool.
“So…What started that weird fire, do you think?”
Golden Cosmos purses her lips and furrows her brow.
—
Sea Spaces charges blindly forward, her eyes burning with tears. Though she was soaked to her core, she was incredibly hot, swear saturating her coat further. She runs for what seems to be an eternity, eyes blurred and useless. The saddlepack she had set out with no longer presses into her back, and she realizes that it is probably long gone. With a reverberating crunch, she slams into a solid surface, bashing her horn and skull into it. Her vision finally darkens completely as she keels over and blacks out.
—
“So it’s sorta like…a magic fire?” Evebringer states more than asks while scratching his head with a hoof.
“Not exactly.” Golden Cosmos sighs over her tea. Zecora had returned not too long ago with several flowers with oddly layered blooms, the petals a sort of rosy pink, plus a whole pouch filled with reddish-beige roots. She’d taken the roots, which Evebringer recognized as ginger, crushed them with a mortar and pestle and dumped the fibrous mix into a small pan of boiling water, along with a few of the flowers. She’d then slid in several blooms of dried lavender and a pinch of sugar before stirring the contents of the pan rather vigorously. While the small pan simmered over the small fire in Zecora’s fire pit, she took another pan of roughly the same size and poured a generous amount of an off-white oil into the center of the small metal container. A hoof-full of what appeared to be tea leaves followed, before being stirred with a small stick with white bark. Zecora had removed the pan containing the ginger and flowers and poured 2 cups, allowing the other to continue simmering over the heat.
“This brew I hold in my hooves is one that truly soothes. This blend, for any ailment, I recommend.” Zecora had informed while holding a tray supporting the two cups.
“It’s more like…a spirit.” Golden Cosmos calmly states into her mug. Evebringer had long downed the entire cup (scalding his mouth in the process), his parched throat immediately soothed. Golden Cosmos’ scorched lungs and throat were slowly healed by the brew, her rasping and wheezing breath calming. Evebringer thanks Zecora softly as she takes the cup away and returns to tending the remaining pot of thicker liquid.
“Wouldn’t it have some kind of corporeal, pony-ish form if it was a spirit, though? And wouldn’t it…not be able to touch us?” Evebringer asks while fiddling with his hooves, still a little bit numb from his experiences in the past 24 hours.
“That should be true, but somehow this one is different.” Golden Cosmos explains. She pushes the cup of the brew forward as she swipes her hoof across her mouth, looking away. Her gaze scans the room, seeming to be looking for answers hidden in the zebra alchemist’s hut. Her eyes fall back upon the large book that Zecora had lent her, spread wide over the shabby table.
“Spirits, Wayward Souls and Poltergeists” the page read in faded text at it’s top. The passage following it told of cemeteries haunted by stallions and mares taken in the prime of life who scream into the night, amorphous forms that patrol the halls of buildings standing on ground that was once roamed by native buffalo (no doubt not pleased by a bunch of little horses stealing their land), and probably the worst (in Golden Cosmos’ opinion), a tale of an entire town haunted by a stallion who had been poisoned by his father. The story told of how the town’s soil slowly turned an unnatural bright green and became acrid, stagnant, even rotten. How the crops there shriveled and died, new ones completely failing to take seed, all life beginning to cease.
It went on, in rather disturbing detail, to describe how every tree slowly began wither, every bush crumbling, anything that took root in the town’s soil tainted and dead soon after. The small mammals in the town were first to go, either eating the disgusting and dead plant matter out of desperation and dying moments later, or starving to death not but a few inches from food. Next were the small predators and birds of prey, who thought the sudden influx of prey that wasn’t able to flee a boon gifted from above, but quickly found it a curse. Any animal that had consumed the dead plants and expired from it remained poisonous, and anything that then consumed it, was soon found dead. This left larger predators on the cusp of starvation, leaving very few options. The most appealing of these, was to prey upon the starving and dead ponies of the town.
The town was shredded by all manner of creatures magical and mundane, ripped apart one by one. Any pony that managed to survive both the complete lack of food and got by without the help of ground or lake water (which had long been poisoned from runoff originating from the disgusting soil) was treated to the ground beneath their hooves becoming corrosive and eating away at their hooves until there was little left other than keratin and bone. There were several illustrations at the top right of the page showing what the effects had been on both plant and animal victims. There was even a large, very detailed drawing of normal pony’s hoof, and…what it would look like after contact with the acidic earth in the accursed town.
Golden Cosmos had to slam the book shut after seeing that. She had barely made out the rounded shape of a coffin bone when she realized just what she had seen, strips of flesh and muscle hanging limply alongside the ruined limb. Her sudden gagging doesn’t go unnoticed by Evebringer, who lunges forward and tries to keep the mare from falling over onto the floor.
“Is- is um, is everything okay?” the stallion stammers. Golden Cosmos shakes her head and pushes the dusty book forward. With her magic, she quickly flips the pages back to the one describing just what she thought was plaguing the outskirts of Ponyville. Evebringer quickly reads through the text, a slowly forming dread settling in his chest. In just moments, the pony has isolated what causes him the most concern in the fable of the ‘tainted town’.
“There is little other information other than what is listed here. There were… no survivors.” Evebringer reads aloud.
Worry creases his lips and brow as he begins to run through the similarities between the tome’s text and what had occurred in the past two days. A powerful, malevolent force had appeared out of nowhere and was now wreaking havoc. ‘It wasn’t much to go on, and there were plenty of other things that could be behind this’, he reasons. Plus…
“Isn’t this just an old scary story? Like, the sort you would tell around a campfire?” Evebringer questions, flipping the book to peek at the cover. A blank, dark leather surface stares back at him.
“I thought it was, but this book is at least six hundred years old, and it’s mostly about well-documented events that don’t have an explanation.” the yellow mare explains with a tad too much certainty for Evebringer’s tastes.
“I really don’t like where this is going…” the stallion trails off, staring into the direction of a small window. It was always dark in the Everfree Forest, but it seemed especially black outside now. ‘Wasn’t it sunny just a few minutes ago?’ Evebringer wonders idly. A sudden feeling of warmth on his back catches his attention for a few moments, but he was far too distracted at the moment.
A sudden feeling of wispy-crackling makes itself known on his wings, and he flaps them reflexively, splattering wet, soapy foam in every direction. He looks back at the offending appendages and finds them coated in many small mauve bubbles. Zecora’s giggling catches him off guard as she nearly spills the contents of the pan she was holding in a hoof, the other holding a wet cloth that had been dipped in whatever was in the metal container in her opposite limb. He looks forward to see his friend coated in the foamy substance Zecora had rubbed into his wings. She sputters and wipes away the bubbly foam from her face, and looks solemn and hurt. Evebringer falters under her gaze, right up until Golden Cosmos breaks into one of the biggest smiles he’s ever seen. He smiles right back, laughing in a (no pun intended) bubbly fashion, the happy sound echoing in the hoof-made hut. It slowly subsides and leaves the three standing drenched in watery bubbles.
“This concoction, your burns it will heal. Though I did not expect for it to have this kind of appeal.” Zecora giggles. She returns to rubbing the (now thick and a somewhat deeper lavender shade) mix into Evebringer’s wings, soothing the aching burns on his wings and back. A gentle tugging feeling in his wings accompanies the cooling feeling of the mix soaking into his wings. Golden Cosmos uses her hoof to wipe clean her face and mane of the foamy mix. She gently wipes away what had splattered onto the massive book that had caused the two so much grief. A sigh passes her lips as she lifts the book in a gentle reddish glow and lowers it to the floor. Evebringer stretches out, and to his amazement, his feathers rapidly spread out and grow back to their normal size, no longer appearing damaged. Surprise dots his expression as he flicks off the foam covering his wings, which turns to confusion when the feathers beneath are whole and intact once more, but now stained a neon pink.
“It is a wonderful mixture, do not you think? Though it has a habit of turning feathers pink.” Zecora muses.
“It’s just temporary, right?” Evebringer questions while spinning in small circles to get a better look, a little nervous. He rather liked the shiny night-sky blue of his feathers.
“Indeed.” the zebra replies. The stallion makes a show of stopping short and pressing his hoof to his chest and sighing. Golden Cosmos smiles.
Evebringer takes his time in removing the rest of the bubbly substance from his wings with a wet cloth supplied by Zecora while Golden Cosmos removes her remaining bandages, no longer necessary in light of Zecora’s healing elixir. Once the entirety of the soapy bubbles seem to be removed, he gives an experimental flap and feels no pain pull at the appendages. Another, harder movement shows that the feathers now regrown on his wings were at least somewhat functional, the stallion feeling lift being generated from the downward swipe. A few more, slightly more vigorous flaps have him hovering in the air just below the ceiling. He splays his wings wide and allows gravity to gently pull him back to the floor. Golden Cosmos snickers into her hoof.
“I take it they work?” she asks playfully. Evebringer nudges her shoulder with his foreleg.
A sudden crashing echoes in the hut and causes it to sway lightly. Evebringer and Golden Cosmos both shudder a bit and take a few steps back, away from whatever had caused the loud interruption. Zecora quickly takes a burlap cloak in her teeth and tugs it over her head and torso, rushing out the door.
—
A gentle breeze blows through the northernmost square of Ponyville. A wind chime breaks the heavy silence over the block, clicking and tolling in a shop’s porch. The light of the sun reflects blindingly off of a mirror hung upon an abandoned furniture store’s entrance. A single squirrel scampers from a hole burrowed into the dirt next to a festive pastry shop done up in pastels and various shades of pink, the roof made to look like an iced gingerbread scaffold. It runs quickly along the edge of several nearby buildings before stopping to rear on it’s hind legs and sniff the air. The smell of sweet fruits and vegetables catches the small rodent’s attention, and the fluffy little mammal leaps atop the stall holding the aromatic produce. Such a feast for a little squirrel! And to think he wouldn’t have to share any of it. An adjacent stall creaks under its own weight and collapses in a cloud of ash. The rodent shrugs internally.
He attempts to lug a huge apple with his claws and teeth, but doesn’t manage to budge it in any direction. A quick shift in position and a bit of legwork later, he manages to roll it off of the stall’s edge and back in the direction of his burrow. Funny, usually a particular pony would stop him, charging after him on thundering beige hooves, his orange-red and bobbed tail swaying behind him as he grabbed whatever it was the little squirrel had tried to steal, but it seemed that every single being for a whole mile around had simply vanished. No crimson stallion chases after him. Not even a dormouse tries to stop him. He had complete free reign! What a great day to be a squirrel!
A shadowy black spot in the ground just outside of the squirrel’s line of sight begins to crack open, rock and earth splintering in it’s wake. A massive tear in the ground itself begins to open beneath the rodent’s tan and pinkish feet, nearly knocking him off balance, now directly in front of him. He rights himself quickly as the opening begins to lengthen and move further outwards. He finds himself with one foot on either side of the burgeoning chasm, with less and less purchase beneath his limbs by the second. His legs spread as far as he can possibly stretch them, the earth threatening to swallow him whole. Thinking quickly, the rodent leaps off to the side and out of the way of the chasm’s grip. Regretfully, however, the apple that he had procured slides through his little paws and into certain death below. The squirrel sheds a single tear and scampers off.
“A-a-anyone home?” a milky white mare stutters into the quiet square. She had been drawn from her boutique on the other side of town when she heard screaming, but…
She gently swishes her tail and continues forward, not seeing the opening in the earth nor spindly black hands that had emerged from the very same crevasse. They creep forward as she leans back into her hooves and begins to contemplate turning around. The mare whines and feels her legs lock into place and her hooves dig into the dirt. The long black fingers sneak closer, gently stroking the mare’s curly royal purple tail. She doesn’t notice, too preoccupied trying to fight off the intense fear holding her in place
The snowy mare finally notices the insistent tugging of her tail when it gives a single, frustrated pull.
“Oh, Opal, darling, is that you? You know that I told you to stay put.” she coos hopefully. ‘Opal’ grabs her tail, hard, and yanks her down. Rarity can’t even make a peep as she’s pulled down into the depths.
—
Zecora sighs as she tends yet another pony’s burns. ‘Three ponies in fourty-eight hours. Incredible.’ she thinks to herself sarcastically. This one had crashed into the side of her hut, leaving a defined pony-shaped indent on her southernmost wall. She wondered why it was her, specifically, that these clumsy little ponies were drawn to. She wasn’t a doctor, for Celestia’s sake.
This particular mare, as Evebringer and Golden Cosmos had explained, was a dear friend of them both. Zecora had contemplated turning the pony away, at first, if only due to the fact she was up and moving about. She had reconsidered when Evebringer had begged her otherwise, and made her decision to treat the mare when she had seen the same black burns upon her barrel that had previously scarred the two ponies she had taken in already. She had a bad feeling about whatever had caused such injury, the patchy pattern of the burns a bit too familiar. At the very least, the seafoam mare that had crashed into side of her hut seemed to be in much better shape than the others. Once the newly-arrived mare (who’s name was apparently Sea Spaces), had a chance to down the last of healing mix Zecora had been reserving for an actual emergency, and explain why in the world she was drenched in water and sweat (something about trying to douse the weird black flames she had seen somewhere, Zecora wasn’t really paying attention), Sea Spaces joined the other two in pouring over the massive tome and reading bits and pieces of it aloud.
“The only way to combat an evil spirit is to have it exorcised. Spirits are remarkably good at anchoring themselves to the mortal realm, if they so choose.” Sea Spaces reads.
“Hey, Sea,” Evebringer starts, a realization dawning on him. “Where is it that you saw those weird black fire…thingies?”
“Oh, in Ponyville. Why?” Sea Spaces answers in a flat tone. Evebringer and Golden Cosmos glance quickly at their somewhat oblivious friend, before staring at one another. Evebringer nearly plows over Zecora in his rush out of her home, Golden Cosmos trailing behind with the massive book in tow.
“Wait for me!” Sea Spaces cries after them, nearly knocking Zecora over a second time. Evebringer turns around for a split second, remembering some semblance of manners.
“Thank you, Ms. Zecora!” he yells in the direction of the hut. The squat home’s door slams back against the outer wall for the third-too-many time as Sea Spaces slams it with a hind hoof whilst running after her friends. It’s hinges groan and squeal before it comes to rest gently alongside the hut wall. It barely manages to settle there before falling forward and crashing to the ground, the hinges and doorknob landing in a neat pile alongside the wrecked wood and glass that was once a door. Zecora can’t help but scoff and shake her head, but internally she finds the entire situation rather funny, despite herself. She was certain that the three could handle this without her help. She would need to fix her door first, anyway. The nails that had been holding the wood together squeak and give out, falling to the side.
—
The sound of ragged flapping accompanies off-tempo hoofbeats as the trio rush towards their home. Evebringer had never really been all that athletic, really, but he could certainly fly. He was round in his barrel and the muscles in his upper body weren’t well developed, but his wings and hind legs could carry him just about anywhere. He contemplates, perhaps, starting to work out after this. He hadn’t realized just how taxing flying at his top speed (of 43 miles per hour, as he would proudly boast, one of the few things he was proud of) for more than a few hundred yards was. He nearly flies right over what was formerly Ponyville, he was just so simply lost in thought. Goldie’s cries of his name pull him literally and figuratively back to earth. He slams down into the dirt hard, trying to land on his hooves but missing and crashing his barrel into the earth when what remained of Ponyville came into his (somewhat limited, he just realized that he’d never bothered to grab his glasses when Golden Cosmos had pulled him out of bed what must have been two days ago, now) vision.
The entire town had been completely leveled, naught but scraps and ash. Iron beams lay shattered and stone was scattered and crumbling. Entire portions of the town were nothing but flattened dirt and clay as if they had never even existed. And, at the very center of it all lay a huge opening in the earth, sputtering thick black liquid high into the air. The fluid lands on the nearby ground with vile splattering sounds and creates huge clouds of smoke as it seems to burn the dirt as if it were wood. A nearby streetlamp is splashed with the dusky fluid and combusts before quite literally exploding into nothing.
“Oh, shit.” Golden Cosmos uncharacteristically curses. She charges forward, dropping the heavy book behind her. Evebringer charges after, only for the both of them to be stopped in their tracks by a pair of blue-green hooves.
“You guys read the book too! There isn’t anything that we could do!” Sea Spaces yells over the roar of the spitting crevasse. Golden Cosmos hesitates before settling back on her hooves.
“She has a point.” Golden Cosmos states simply. Evebringer searches the faces of his two friends. He mirrors Goldie’s resigned stance.
“…We need to get help.” Evebringer mumbles to no one in particular.
—
Canterlot bustles with activity as morning dawns. Hundreds of ponies gather upon a bright golden yellow stage to watch as Celestia raises the sun. Ponies, gryphons and even a few dragons 'ooo' and 'ah' in amazement. One such pony, his coat a dusty green and cloaked in matching tan and mossy tattered trench coat, even begins to clap his hooves for the masterful display that their sovereign leader performed each and every morning. The movement spreads through the massive crowd, becoming deafening and eventually fading out.
The crowd slowly dissipates as the various ponies and others rush off to run errands. A dark blue stallion in a three piece suit and a somewhat tacky pink tie rushes off the stage, tailed by a lavender mare in a robe vaguely resembling something a psychic medium might wear. The blue pegasus stallion is so deep in conversation with his unicorn companion that he doesn’t even notice the errant outcropping of stone in the cobblestone street. His front outer hoof catches on it, and he keels forward, tipping into a garbage bin. A grey-beige earth pony wearing a silvery visor on his muzzle chuckles as he passes, upending a cardboard cup of scalding coffee over the pegasi’s head, dampening his spiky mane.
“Excellent hoofwork, Trite.” he purrs. And in just a few moments, the earth pony is gone down an alleyway, his visor glowing red in the dark of the corner as he slinks away.
“That’s the third time this week, Nick. Do you think you could maybe try to duck out of the way next time? I’m getting really tired of visiting the dry cleaners.” the lavender mare complains.
“Just get me out of here, Maya.” ’Nick’ whines. The mare quickly pulls him back out by his wings, only slightly spraining them in the process. Several onlookers quickly turn away when the stallion looks in their direction. The two hurry past a small cafe into the alleyway in pursuit of the pegasus’ repeat assailant, completely irrelevant to the story at hand.
A nearby red and dark ginger-furred mare purses her lips and frowns. Sitting at a short cafe table, she shifts her hind hooves to lay them upon one another. Her coffee sits in the far left side of the circular table, unnoticed. A newspaper sits in her hooves.
“ENTIRE TOWN DISAPPEARS- COULD IT BE A SIGN OF SOMETHING MORE?” it announced in bold red letters. One of the ears on her hat (which was in the form of a timberwolf’s head) flops over gently. She didn’t know anyone in the town that the newspaper had referenced, but it was still troubling all the same. It had taken a full day before any official reports had even been made, due to the sheer absurdity of it all.
The papers later began to reference three ponies who had made it out alive, and were being sent immediately to Canterlot, as ordered by Celestia. Different papers and sources had reported different names, and some rather worryingly told of this town being the home of all six Elements of Harmony, along with their bearers. Some remained optimistic, since no remains of any creature, pony or otherwise, had been discovered, but any and all signs of life had seemingly crumbled into ash. A sizable few ponies began implicating this event to be the beginning of a ‘new order’. Theories ranged from absolute destruction, to a forced winter to last for thousands of years, for all cities in Equestria to be leveled, that a widespread plague was to finally eradicate ponykind forever, or for something (or someone) to instigate a mass extinction that not even the most hardy of creatures would survive. The mare honestly thought most of this to be ridiculous, though that didn’t make it any less concerning. A voice calls to her in the distance. A tawny unicorn stallion waves his hoof towards her and cheerfully greets her to indicate his arrival. ‘Not even Luna’s return from the moon caused this much uproar’, she thinks as she folds the flimsy inked paper closed and turns to greet her companion.
Though, despite it all, life in Canterlot continued as normal, for the most part.
Except for a certain dragon, holed up in her secluded home in the imposing towers of the city.
Her assistance was required once more, it would seem.
—
Celestia absolutely could not believe her luck. A mere week from her diplomatic trip to the Gryphon embassy stationed in Fillydelphia to finally end this petty disagreement of…whatever they had decided to take issue with this time, and she has a national crisis on her hooves.
The Zebrican nation had decided that they absolutely could not sell goods to their neighboring Saddle Arabia, lest they use the money for something ‘nefarious’. This, in turn, had caused a massive collective temper tantrum between all surrounding countries, as far reaching as her Canterlot home, tens of thousands of miles away. This, combined with the general unease that had gripped the Equestrian populace, with talk from the nearby farming towns that the harsher sunlight and lighter rains that Celestia had planned in for this summer to combat the flooding from the previous year’s winter snow (which had been melted entirely, in one single moment, by one of her student’s spells gone awry) had made growing crops difficult. The yield for this year, they had said, would be meager to say the least.
And then, the icing on the cake. The town she had sent her pupil away to, her prodigy magic student, disappears off the face of the earth. Gone. No trace of life. No trace of anything.
Elements of Harmony nowhere to be found. Entire families wiped away. Years of history and thousands of lives, completely destroyed. Celestia hangs her head, slipping the golden tiara from the top of her head. She had retired to her private quarters several hours ago and now laid on her bed next to a stack of books she’d drawn from the royal library and now perused them, to find even the slightest hint of an answer to the myriad of questions swirling like fireflies in her mind. The worn covers dyed blood red and inky black, along with their morbid contents regarding dark magic and hauntings, make her uneasy. One in particular almost looked a bit cheesy, like one of those choose-your-own adventure ghost stories for foals, a red wax dripped onto the cover to look like blood and tooth marks dotting the edges of a bright illustration of a green blob. Yet another was black as the night sky, the book’s title carved into the front surface with something like a claw. Upon further inspection, this particular book seemed to be bound in real leather of something mammalian. The soft surface still bore the branching lines of what had been veins, undoubtedly belonging to whatever creature had previously owned this hide. “Observations On the Equine Occult, Viewed by A Dragon” it stated on the cover. She pushes the precarious stack away in a soft cyan glow, dropping it to the floor. Her gaze wanders towards one of the massive windows inlaid into her tower dwelling, a gentle glow lighting her surroundings as the day began to advance from morning to noon.
She knew, deep in her analytical mind, that she should not be this distressed over a few thousand ponies. There were millions of others, gryphons, zebras, dragons, all with lives and families living in Equestria that would need her assistance. She rotates her tiara in her hands so that the large inlaid gem faces her. It glints amber and burgundy in the light.
She supposed that if the missing ponies were never found, that funerals would need to be held for the sake of closure. She lays the golden ornament down atop the towering pile of books relating to dark magic. The snowy alicorn mare presses her hooves to her face and sighs.
Sending Twilight away to the rural town of Ponyville was difficult enough, let alone having to put the unicorn, the daughter she never had, to rest. All six bearers of the Elements of Harmony had been in Ponyville at the time of the incident, meaning five more funerals she wasn’t prepared to attend.
As she had been told, ‘just like that’, the entire area for several miles around had simply turned to ash, and a massive gorge had opened in the center. A few science-oriented unicorns had taken to procuring samples around the epicenter of chasm, ’to identify any remains’. They had apparently found nothing but burnt remains of “malus domestica derived building material”, or in simpler words, applewood planks. Mixed in was a large concentration of sulfur, which was apparently ‘fascinating’. She wanted to scream.
The realization then dawns on her that the three survivors would be arriving soon, and that she would need to make an appearance to ease the public. She quickly places the symbol of her rulership back onto the crown of her head. She swiftly trots through her cluttered quarters, filled with a sinking dread.
—
Evebringer shuffled uncomfortably in the cramped space of the Equestrian Military chariot. The three had run (or in Evebringer’s case, flown) as quickly as they possibly could to the neighboring Mareview and had promptly been greeted by a whole squadron of massive stark-white soldiers. They had quickly cuffed the trio, tying Evebringer’s wings together and binding Goldie’s oddly coloured horn in enchanted ropes, before promising Sea Spaces that any ‘funny business’ would be met with force. The wind whistles loudly through the tightly knit steel bars that encase the (also solid steel) wagon-like construction that was currently being pulled by several Alicorn soldiers. The bars arching above and the solid floor below remind Sea Spaces of a bird cage.
Evebringer attempts to stretch his bound wings into a more comfortable position, and is kicked in the head by an armored unicorn, the insignias carved into his chest plate indicating he was a member of the royal guard’s highest ranking officers. The medals around the iron-clad unicorn’s neck clack with the motion. Sea Spaces huddles closer to the wagon floor.
The wagon halts, suddenly, knocking Golden Cosmos off of her hooves, and onto the ground along with her companions.
“Night night, kids.” one of the stallions (‘Scrapperhoof’, a shiny silver nameplate declares) states with a sadistic malice in his voice. Sea Spaces tries to open her mouth to retort, but in seconds the stallion has strapped on a small respirator, and produced a metal canister from seemingly nowhere. He turns a green crank atop the canister, which begins to hiss and spew invisible fumes.
The trio soon begin to feel lightheaded. Evebringer tries to stand, and succeeds, if only for a few seconds. Gravity soon overtakes him, and he notes a very distinct smell of liquorish and permanent marker as he succumbs to the overwhelming fatigue clawing at his muscles. His eyelids become heavy as the anesthetic gas takes effect.
—
A soft clattering of tiny claws patter in the silence of a high tower keep. A large white and grey rat scampers across a hardwood floor with a book bigger than he is crammed into his mouth.
A black, scaly hand immediately scoops the little creature up, and the rat squeaks and squirms as it tries to escape, a massive muzzle quickly closing in on him. A reptilian maw presses into the small rodent’s side and sniffs, the slightly coarse and oily fur tickling huge nostrils. The lizardly mouth stretches into a wide grin.
“Hello, Aether.” it whispers. The rat squeaks and turns to present the book he had retrieved for his dragon owner. The book is claimed, and the rat is gently stroked with the back of two clawed fingers. A somewhat smaller rat with curly whiskers and a tiny pink nose standing out strikingly against his tri-toned brown, pepper and black coloration nibbles gently at the dragon’s feet and squeaks indignantly at being ignored. He, too, is lifted from the floor and is made to press against his fellow rat in a mock hug. Both rats confusedly chatter their teeth and flail their scaly (and slightly fuzzy) pink tails. The gentle dragon giggles and places them both back onto the floor.
“Go and find me that book on ornithopters and pegasus flight. I want to read it again.” the dragon whispers, her voice like wind whistling in a forest, serene and gentle, though hoarse. The two beloved pets disappear into the attic library that was their home. A ringing of bamboo wind chimes echoes in the stone walls, blown by a small draft, and the dragon inside takes a moment to reflect.
Four thousand years, she had lived here. The day Canterlot had been founded, she’d had this small space allotted for her use as a home, in the stead of the miles of land she had once lived on. She exhales a small plume of steam from her nose in remembrance of the day she’d been vacated from the massive forested mountain home her mother had owned, and her father before her, and his father before him, and his mother before that…
It was only fair, she supposed. Can’t own something that long without your claim being contested.
The ponies who had taken this land as their own were kind enough to it’s inhabitants…for a time. Not long after the first matriarch for the country had been chosen, a brave (and very stupid) few spoke out against the ‘monstrous beasts’ that were anything except ponykind. “Unyielding ‘horrorterrors’ that would herald the end of their peaceful nation with their warring ways” were the quiet dragon and her kin.
It had always been funny, in a twisted way, reading the publications of the time. Very little was she ever mentioned by name, though it had been obvious who they meant by “holdover beast refusing to leave ponies alone, devouring them alive”. ‘My name is Zakk, and I can’t even kill spiders, let alone a pony’, she had always wanted to roar at the mobs of ponies that perched themselves at her door, but, her arguments would have fallen upon deaf ears. She absentmindedly chewed a corner on the book Aether had retrieved for her. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the past. There wasn’t anything that could be done.
A soft knocking reverberates in Zakk’s stone ‘den’. She tenses reflexively. The handle of the door is jarred and turned, repeatedly, in both directions. A knocking comes from the direction of the door, more forcefully this time. Zakk’s wings pull closer to her body, wrapping her tight. How she wished that she could simply retreat into them and cease to exist. Iridescent scales stand on end and a lengthy tail curls around the stocky dragon’s body.
—
A warm breeze rolls over Canterlot. The pegasi weather-workers had allotted for a rainstorm today, but it seemed that, with the recent ‘events’, it would have been too gloomy. Instead, fiery sunlight blazes outside Canterlot castle’s stained glass windows, hotter than Celestia’s wrath, as unforgivingly dry and windy as Luna’s most barren of nights. Air rushes past the alicorn ruler’s mane as the towering throne room doors creak outwards, and in is wheeled a wide wooden platform, flanked by two soldiers. Atop the planks of rotting wood and beside clanking chains, lay three ponies. The two armored royal guards at Celestia’s sides lift huge gold spears and slam them to the floor, and the guards standing near the platform below salute in kind.
“State your business.” one of them projects authoritatively.