//------------------------------// // 31 - Solitary hero // Story: The master and the windigo // by stupidswampdragon //------------------------------// Lyra turned another page and reached the last entry; the following pages were blank, untouched by the quill. Just in time, too. She could have used a break already. She set the book aside and rolled her head around. She felt sickly. Her neck was sore, her eyes bloodshot. It was the perfect time to read; the world outside was dormant. The rain had ebbed. Only small droplets were battering on the window, filling the house with monotone clinging. The sound was the only way to tell that it was still raining, as the windows only showcased the complete darkness outside. The sickly shine of the moon failed to penetrate the thick cloud layer. The lack of distraction had predictable effects on Lyra: she had completely lost herself in the diary. She had lain in her bed for hours, keeping the same posture as she blazed through the diary entries. She didn't even notice how uncomfortable she was - not until she stopped reading. Rolling her head, she heard her neck go pop, the sound accompanied by a small jolt and a shiver. She groaned, mostly out of habit; she wasn't really angry. She didn't fault herself... it simply couldn't be helped. She saw a life unfold in front of her. A life that seemed strange, exciting - and very alien at the same time. A life that used to be hers. "Is Master all right?" A sour grimace on her face, Lyra scowled. That was a very good question. Even she had no idea herself. "Master has been awfully silent ever since she started reading this book," Snowy hopped onto the bed, facing her master from the book's opposite side. "Was there something unsettling in there...?" Lyra bit onto her lip, then nodded hesitantly - followed by a quiet whine, on account of her stiff neck. "I don't get it." Snowy scratched her sideways-bobbed head. "If it's truly Master's old thoughts that are written down there... how could they be upsetting Master?" "Hmpf!" Lyra made a face. She didn't bother hiding her displeasure; in fact, she put it in plain view. She flipped the pages to a particular entry and shoved the book into the windigo's face. "Take a look for yourself, then! See if you can keep that cool tone of yours." Snowy blinked at the book, then pulled her head back to get a better look. Then she sighed and shook her head with a grim expression. "I'm awfully sorry Master, but I... I would need Master read these for me," the windigo muttered, her head sinking towards the white bed sheet. "I... ah, this is so embarrassing to admit! But I can't read." Lyra's jaw dropped as her left eyebrow crept upwards. She yanked the book back and flipped the pages furiously. She was looking for a specific entry; she may have read the entire book, but she wanted to double-check. The entry took a few seconds of frenzied search to find; then she pushed the book against the bed, her amber eyes hastily going through the text. "Here! It says here that I just taught you how to read!" she exclaimed, her gaze darting to the windigo. "Snowy, this wasn't long ago! What do you mean you can't- oh." Pressing a hoof against her forehead, Lyra realized that she knew the explanation already. "I suppose Master shouldn't waste too much time educating me." Snowy chuckled sombrely. "Well, I'm just a servant anyway... so this should be acceptable. We could consider it as the price of my power. But I digress - did this insignificant matter make Master so upset?" Lyra opened her mouth, gaped uselessly for a while and then closed it. Her gaze returned to the open book, but there was no help coming from there either. She had no idea how to turn her thoughts into words. In truth, even she had no idea what she was really thinking. Her thoughts refused to take a definite shape; her mind was just a big bowl of emotions, bubbling and swirling like a hot soup. Slamming the book shut, Lyra decided to simply say whatever came to her mind. According to the diary, she used to be really good at being blunt. "That Bon... well, turns that she did live here. I used to know her, too," she mumbled, closing the sentence by taking a deep breath. The short breath turned into a longer pause; she used the time to scratch her head. Saying her first thoughts didn't help when she couldn't even find those thoughts in the first place. "No, that's not it. It's worse than that - I didn't simply know Bon. She used to be my... friend." Snowy's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything. She simply left her lower jaw hanging - even as she shifted backwards, distancing herself from her master ever so slightly. Lyra gave that unwitting body language a wry grin. To think a windigo would be afraid of me... makes me wonder which of us is the monster here! "I met Bon when I was little... and we've been together ever since." Lyra carried on, her gaze wandering to the side. Her tongue started to loosen up; it was getting easier and easier to ramble. Each word paved the road for the rest, it seemed. "We used to do everything together. I probably didn't bother writing down everything, but it seems that Bon used to be my best friend. Hahaha, imagine this - we lived together! Well... we used to...!" The flow of words stopped. Lyra grit her teeth and hunched over, pressing a leg against her aching chest. Damn it! If only I had known! I could have...! Of course, those thoughts always wound her up in the same place. Could have. Would have. Should have. Didn't. There was no going back on that mistake any more. That was the price for her victory over Chrysalis - the price of saving her home. Price... Thinking about what she had read, Lyra found an interesting theme repeating itself. Every single time she had tried to save something with her new-found powers - every time she had tried to cheat, no matter for whose benefit - her efforts had always been rendered moot. No, even worse than that; she had always wound up worse than at the beginning. But those early mistakes were her own; the diary sounded clear on the matter. This time, however... This time she had fought for the sake of others, and she had used the right means to do so. She was sure that she was in the right this time. Ponyville was safe, after all; it was only she who had wound up for the worse. She sacrificed her own self, her former career, her entire life. She even gave up on Bon, the only pony who she used to rely on. A fairly steep price - but perhaps not unreasonably so. Giving up one life was a great exchange rate for saving the rest in the town. And yet...! Why was she so upset over such a resounding success? "Master, I... I'm sorry!" Snowy held her hooves in front of her mouth, her head shaking from left to right. "I didn't think- I didn't want-!" Grinding her teeth in silence, Lyra threw a piercing stare at the windigo. Those pathetic apologies were never to her liking, and her patience was especially thin this time. It was time she gave her servant a reality check. "You didn't want WHAT?! You didn't want us to go apart? You would have wanted us to stay together? Me and Bon, the life-long pals?" Lyra boomed. The shift in her tone was sudden that Snowy leaped from the bed, landing a few steps away. "Do you think that would have been better? Well, guess what - you're wrong." Lyra spat that last word out - rather literally. It wasn't very refined of her, but she was on her own and she really had to do something about the bile taste filling her mouth. "Do you think I could have lived with Bon? Do you think I could live with a pony, act as if we were friends - all without really feeling like it? Do you think I could fake through a life like that?!" she snarled, turning her head away in anguish and disgust. She couldn't accept the mere idea itself. "This deal was settled the moment I stayed behind to fight the changelings. By the time I came back here, I no longer knew anypony called Bon." She closed her eyes and breathed in. "It was long over by then," she muttered. She was trembling; she had to calm down. This topic could only be addressed with a cool head. Raving and screaming, while an enticing possibility, wouldn't have helped her one bit. "This was for the best," she sighed once she gathered her thoughts a little. She ran a hoof down her mane, then gave the back of her neck a slow scratch. "Better this than have her guessing... than to have her hoping for something that just isn't there. I'm no longer the Lyra she knew." Hanging her head low, Lyra allowed herself a dark grin. Besides, I sincerely doubt Bon would want to be friends with this new me anyway. "Even so," Snowy mumbled, speaking only once she was sure her master was done. Lyra didn't bother to raise her head. She only twisted her neck, cocking her head to the side so her left eye had a clean view of the windigo. "Even so, this is hardly a fair outcome." Snowy shook her head. "I understand what Master is saying - I really do. But then... hadn't Master given up on her friend just to save this place? Shouldn't Master be a hero, then?" Lyra closed her eye and grinned. What a bittersweet, empty grin that was! She couldn't contest anything the windigo had said, though. That wry, self-depreciating grin was the best way she could cope. "Why was Master treated as a criminal, then?" Snowy carried on. She got off her hooves and was pacing towards her master, her crimson eyes burning like hot coals in a fireplace. "Why is that Queen, that fiend, given the treatment that Master would have deserved?! Surrounded by helpful ponies, pampered and being taken care of!" Sitting on her bed with nothing but a diary and an angry ghost to keep her company, Lyra chuckled. She had already heard a pretty good answer to that one. "Because this world is far from perfect, I guess." The tinfoil paper rattled loudly as it crumpled. Then it joined the growing pile of various discarded wrappers. It rolled down the side of that small hill and fell silent, wedged between empty covers of chocolate bars. The only noises left in the house were the light clinking on the windows... and that of Lyra chewing. She was going through every piece of sweet she could dig up in the house. It wasn't a healthy diet, but she needed those 'happy-hormones' more than ever. She had already burnt through the various stages of outrage, and the exercise had left her in a melancholic mood. She was simply sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window, her head as empty as the tin-foil paper she had just thrown away. It was hard to see the world outside. Everything was obscured, blurred by the thin film of water covering the window. The rain, while decreasing in intensity, didn't want to cease. "Id's rainin'." Her mouth full of chocolate and her pupils so wide as a daydreamer's, that self-evident nonsense was all that Lyra could mumble. "Ever since yesterday afternoon," Snowy nodded. The windigo was lying on her side, her legs dangling off the kitchen counter. "Some pegasi must have had a busy schedule." Lyra gave that an absent-minded nod. Indeed; carrying so much water - even in the shape of clouds - wasn't a light task. It needed preparation and careful monitoring; while plants needed water, they didn't like getting doused either. While Lyra had no interest in the specifics, she knew that such a long rain needed an equally long preparation. Which meant that pegasi were assembling those clouds before and even during her battle with the changelings. Ponyville was on the brink of being destroyed - but one way or the other, that rain had to fall. Lyra gave that idea an absent-minded chuckle. She found herself liking the rain. It was a great reality-check, making her realize how small she was. She had fought with everything on the line... and nopony in the world cared. The pegasi in charge of rain didn't even alter their schedule. "Though... why should they have? It's not like they knew." Her pupils narrowed, her eyes focusing onto the window-glass. Small spots marked where the rain droplets landed - flashing up and then disappearing in a steady rhythm. "Master is thinking out loud again?" Snowy raised her eyebrows. Her sides rose and dipped as she talked; a funny sight, considering that she had no need to breathe in the first place. "Yeah. About how life goes on," Lyra cocked her head toward the windigo with a sigh. "We can't stay like this forever. I mean, uh..." She trailed off and licked her teeth absent-mindedly. She was fresh out of ideas. She knew it wasn't a viable plan, but she couldn't find any issues with sitting in the kitchen and eating chocolate. "We can't stay here forever indeed. The fridge is pretty empty now, for example." Snowy lifted a hoof and pointed at the purring metal box in the corner. "Master is going to have to go shopping before long." Lyra rolled her eyes at the 'help'. The windigo was right, of course; she would need to eat something tomorrow as well. Which meant that she would have to buy groceries at some point. For which she would need money; so to get her long-term necessities covered, she would need some form of income, too. Which meant finding work. All the steps of that process were simple and logical. Lyra, however, found it very difficult to even consider doing any of them. After a day in which she had to make decisions over life and death, when her decisions had carried consequences for an entire town... groceries and jobs seemed so utterly pointless. Why bother buying a bunch of carrots when she might well be dying in another last-stand tomorrow? It all seemed so weightless to her. Useless, pitiful decisions that carried no significance whatsoever. The same decisions that had made up the bulk of her previous life, interestingly. Seriously... how would my life go on? She closed her eyes and breathed in lengthily, the air hissing around her nostrils. It was hard to admit, but the battle came easier to her. The binary, life-or-death decisions were a lot easier than being thrown into a murky pool called 'life'. Sitting all alone in her kitchen, all Lyra could think was how she wanted none of that. Yes, that was her choice: she simply wanted to be left alone. I've already done my share. She glanced to her side, at the plateful of chocolates. She picked the top-most piece with her magic and tore the tinfoil away. She tossed the cherry-filled candy into her mouth - and almost choked on it when the familiar voice greeted her from behind. "Well, well, well... this is the most depressing victory party I've ever seen." Lyra bounced up; she was back on her hooves and facing in the opposite direction a moment later. The visit came as a complete surprise, but the voice immediately betrayed her visitor's identity. She was tense - the arrival of the game master was never a good sign - but her lethargy overpowered her panic on short order. She simply frowned and continued chewing on the chocolate. As such, the greetings were cut short. Or rather: completely omitted. Lyra showed no willingness for a warm welcome; she chewed on the chocolate, and pretty loudly at that. The Source displayed similar levels of etiquette; the hooded pony paced to the heap of sweets and took one without a single word. Lyra eyed the game master closely, but there was nothing ominous in the moves. A rum-filled bonbon was enveloped in magenta aura and floated off, disappearing into the mouth under the hood. Oi... you're, like, being really homely here. Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and swallowed. She didn't like other ponies eating her sweets. Not until she offered, anyway. "This is how I celebrate." She gave the hooded figure a piercing glare. "I don't like to keep the list of invitees long." "More like you don't have anypony to invite." The Source chuckled. That pony either ate chocolate really fast, or could talk with her mouth full. "I wonder whose fault that is." Lyra rolled her eyes. Her gaze didn't return to the game master, but wandered to the window instead. The clinking of the rain had stopped, but the world beyond the window was still blurry, the shapes filtered by the film of water flowing down the glass. Time has stopped, Lyra realized. Just like the last time, before the bank. She paused and narrowed her eyes. She could recall that scene way too well. She remembered every single detail with utmost clarity, even the flickering of the steadily holding dust clouds. For a pony who had forgotten so much about her own life, that was definitely one huge oddity. Lyra turned her head, the green robed pony back in her focus. She wasn't sure on her selective forgetfulness, but a few ideas came to mind now - none of which painted the game master in positive light. You bastard. "Shifting the blame, eh? Aren't you one sore winner." The Source chuckled wryly, the magenta magic lifting another chocolate from the plate. "I didn't force you to do anything. All the choices were yours." Lyra growled internally at the obvious bait. The callous remark sparked a flame in her all the same; the urge to break into a tirade over her so-called 'choices' was strong. I sure never chose to fight a horde of changelings! The challenge found me, more like. Heck - I would have ran away, had that officer not bumped into me. Lyra gave her internal rage a momentary pause. Surprisingly enough, she could clearly recall the details of that officer. He was a fairly nondescript pony, just like the other guards - apart from one tiny little difference. His eyes. Those violet eyes with a red outer ring. Lyra had never seen such eyes before. ...or so she had thought at first. But now, reminiscing about her previous meeting with the Source, she clearly remembered seeing those eyes flash under the hood. You...! "Choices, huh? I wonder what would have happened if I chose to run away." Lyra raised her eyebrows in curiosity. She fought to keep herself form making a face, but only achieved limited success. "Which, you know, my original choice was. Right until I bumped into a mysterious officer." The notion wasn't lost on the Source. "How perceptive of you. Why yes, it was I who gave you the luxury of choice!" The hooded game-master chuckled, the movement of the hood hinting at the pony also giving a nod. "I gave you the sword... and the resolve to stand your ground. Were it not for me, you would have been one of the panicking lot. Were it not for me, you would have had no choice but to run." Lyra pursed her lips. She had heard the same argument back in the cell. It wasn't very convincing even back then. "You've said that already..." she shook her head. "But my life would be shattered, no matter what I had chosen. You let me decide if I'd rather get hanged or drowned. Thanks a bunch, by the way." It didn't take an omnipotent pony to notice the dripping sarcasm of the last few words. "Haha, aren't you going a little overboard here? Would you blame me if lightning struck your house, too?" The Source chuckled, the hood shaking as the pony underneath fought the laughter. "You may be missing a crucial fact. It wasn't me leading those changelings! Quite the opposite - I went as far as I could in combating them. I even fought as a regular pony!" Lyra groaned and rubbed her neck. She hated when facts were used to counter her completely legitimate-feeling anger. She especially hated this two-faced game master for doing so. However, no matter how she tried, she couldn't find a grip on the Source's explanations. Even so, the facts remained the same. Lyra wound up getting the short end of stick all the freaking time. That shifty Source was using cherry-picked facts to cover for some obvious under-hooved play, Lyra was sure of that. Only - she couldn't prove anything. She was so short on facts that she couldn't even convince herself fully. She had no argument and no proof to back her up. A vague feeling was all she had, and feelings were always so hard to grasp. "It was only my avatar that saved this place." The Source carried on. The hood cast a perfectly dark shadow over the Source's face, but Lyra was sure the game master was smirking, full of pride. "I saved your life, remember? I allowed you to take Snowy's reins. I made you realize you could stand and fight... everything you accomplished yesterday, it was all because of my efforts. And what do I get?" Her hoof still in her mane, Lyra raised her eyebrows and brought her gaze onto the Source. She was legitimately curious what the game master could have gained from the whole ordeal. "Listening to your complaints, that's all I got." The Source snorted. There was no anger in the tone, though; rather, it was dismissive and uncaring. "I bet it sounds familiar to you, doesn't it? You mortals are all the same... always so quick to condemn what you're doing yourself." Lyra hummed and turned her eyes to the ground. That sounded correct. That sounded so true that she had no arguments against it. "So what would you like to hear?" she mumbled. There was no need for façades any more; the true bitterness from her heart was bleeding straight into her voice. "Should I be cheerful? Pop a champagne bottle and hold a party... in my empty house? Invite all the friends I can no longer remember?" "Nopony ever claimed that being a hero is a happy business." The Source said, almost whispering. Had the outside world not been dead silent, those words would have been lost to the noise. "Anypony can better the world if it requires no effort. Heroes... they are born from those who are willing to cast everything aside. Or those who have nothing left." It was Lyra's turn to snort. She took her hoof from her mane and turned to the fridge. She used her magic to yank on the door - and was content to see that even in the paused world, the door would still open. She grabbed a brown-stained glass and set it onto the desk, hastily pulling two small glasses next to it. "Let's celebrate your newest hero, then!" she snickered and pulled the cork out of the bottle. "Moonshine... haa." The Source cooed. "I can't even recall the last time I tasted the stuff." The admission brought a chuckle out of Lyra. She was still struggling with the oppressive taste of the drink. After some awkwardly lot seconds, she finally forced herself to swallow... and then she slammed the empty glass onto the table, signifying her victory over the drink that Bon used to like. It seemed fitting, drinking that for the requiem of the good old days. "It almost sounds as if you regret your job." Lyra cocked her head to the side, a mean snicker plastered over her face. She cleared her throat quickly; the moonshine was burning away at her insides. "Must be tiresome, ruling over us puny mortals." "It may surprise you, but I don't really care for it." The Source set its own glass back onto the table, its magenta magic grabbing the bottle to pour a fresh round. "Having a good drink... or rather, having the time for a good drink is just another price I paid to become a hero. It's one of the smaller ones, too." Lyra's ears perked at the comment. She couldn't imagine becoming an all-mighty god to be such a bad deal. She certainly never pitied Celestia, who was about half-way to that status. She scratched her head in her absent-minded stupor; then she shrugged and poured herself another drink. Might as well. Her magic grabbed and hoisted the small glass into the air. The moonshine inside splashed around; bits spilled over and landed on the table. The rest went down Lyra's throat as she yanked her head back and poured over her mouth. She promptly broke into a shudder. She wasn't used to drinking, and could feel the heavy moonshine going straight to her head. On the other hoof, the taste kind of improved for the second round. Either that or her tastebuds were already going numb. "So... what am I supposed to do now?" she asked, eyeing the green robed figure as she slammed her glass back on the table. The Source rolled its glass aloofly, then shrugged. "I don't know. What do you feel like doing?" Lyra sat down and pushed her front legs against the table, bringing her torso almost vertical. "Not much, to be honest. I mean, I was ready to give my life for this town..." She hummed and reared her head back, arching until her nose was perfectly perpendicular to the ceiling. "But now, after how I was treated..." The Source turned to her, the violet-red eyes flashing briefly as light filtered under the hood. "Do you feel slighted? Do you want revenge?" Her amber eyes staring at the planks in the ceiling, a brief laughter burst out of Lyra's mouth. "Hahaha... no, I don't think so. I'm no monster just yet... haha! Not that kind of monster anyway." The Source nodded and turned away, the hood hinting that the red-violet eyes were gazing at the still rain beyond the window. "That you are not. But you are still a living being... and as such, you desire happiness, one way or another." The hooded pony lamented and reached to the bottle, pouring yet another glass of moonshine. "How would you reach that now, I wonder? Once you've tasted deciding over life and death, it's difficult returning to the much subtler world. Could you bear your remaining years in this ungrateful world? It would be difficult, especially when every decision feels pointless. Would you be satisfied?" Lyra shuddered and squeezed her eyes. That line of thought was eerily close to what she had been thinking. She heard her own worries echo. "Could you be satisfied?" The Source mused, then downed the contents of the glass. "Because if not..." "So just what COULD I do?!" Lyra snapped. She sprang up and turned to the hooded figure, her hoof slamming onto the table. The bottle of moonshine rocked around, the brown liquid sloshing around gently. "I barely recall anything now! Even if I had known what to do, I sure don't any more! I'm lost and alone, damn it! What do you think somepony like me could do?!" The hood bobbed as the Source acknowledged the complaint. The hooded game master turned to face the former musician, but didn't say anything. Only the empty glass floated back onto the table. Lyra felt quite dejected at the silence. Nothing to say, huh? She felt her teeth grinding against each other. Infuriatingly enough, the Source was right this time again. Back when she was reading her diary, Lyra couldn't help but find her previous life pointless. She was playing music for high-society events - so what? How could she compare producing some fancy tones to actively saving hundreds of lives? How could she care for music, knowing all that? It was only an inkling, but she felt unfit for the world she had lived in. That world also held her in contempt now, which made her decision all the easier. Decision... That was a lie - she couldn't really decide. Not when she was effectively blindfolded. If only she remembered enough to move ahead! Even if it was only one step! Something! If only I hadn't lost so much of myself...! Lyra's eyes widened, her jaws parting as a loud gasp rushed out her mouth. She had an idea. "You are the boss of this whole game, right? I mean, you make the rules and you enforce them, right?" she asked, her amber eyes focused on the hooded game master. "Including the servants... and their abilities." "Umm... that's one strange question." The Source's hood fell to the side as the head tilted underneath. "Of course I am." "But if you can grant them... then you can also reverse them." Lyra licked her lips, twisting them to a crooked grin. "You can get my memories back!" Even in the cover of the green robe, the Source was visibly stunned. The robed figure remained oddly static - and in the ensuing silence Lyra shifted her hooves just to see that the world didn't fully stop. "Of course not!" the game master finally found its voice. "That would be breaking the rules." "Yeah, it would be." Lyra nodded with a wry chuckle. The opposition didn't dampen her enthusiasm one bit. "So, dear GM! How much would it cost for this cheat to happen?" The Source reared back, as if the mere suggestion threatened to burn the tip of its nose. "Don't be shy now," Lyra snickered at the sight of the omnipotent pony shirking away. "Every cheat has its price, remember? You told me that, so it's clearly not an alien concept to you. All I'm asking is what this unique cheat would take." The Source stopped stalling. The game master froze... then broke into hollering, eye-wateringly loud laughter. Lyra refilled both glasses and took a sour look at the bottle. There was barely anything left of the brownish stuff; which was bad, as she had started liking it herself. On the other hoof, she shouldn't have much more - she was barely standing on her hooves already. She put the bottle down with a sombre sigh, and glared at the parchment laying on the table. "In the end, this is a simple deal." The Source put the quill down. "Once both of us have signed, I will immediately undo all the ill effects Snowy had on you." Lyra nodded. That was simple enough to understand, even to her dazed head. Apart from one little nitpick. "Ssoo... what do I give in esss... ecssh... esschange?" Deep in the task of crafting the new contract, the Source couldn't reply right away. Guided by magenta magic, a small can of fine dust floated to the green hood. Then the game master exhaled loudly, spraying the table with a thin layer of dust. The parchment got its fair share as well, and the ink solidified almost right away, the dust sticking to the wet lines as if they were glue. Lyra watched the mundane activity in utter awe. It caught her attention way more than it should have... right until the dust got into her nose, making her sneeze. "I will take the liberty of naming my price at a later date." The Source finally answered, then held the paper high, the violet-red gaze scanning the lines for possible mistakes. "Y... ya' think I'd sign a blank che... cheque?" Lyra closed an eye and gave a stink stare with the other. "Am ain't stooo... stupid, ya' know." "It's what I have to offer." The Source shrugged and placed the paper back onto the table. "Take it or leave it." Lyra groaned. She wasn't in the mood for such negotiations. It was hard to think after so many glasses. Frankly speaking, she was genuinely impressed how the Source was able to down so much moonshine and still act like an impeccable businesspony. Lyra, on the other hoof, wasn't sure if she could count to ten without skipping a number or two. With that being said however, she couldn't see why she was fussing so much. Seriously. I'm acting as if I have so much left to lose! Grinning like the drunk pony she was, Lyra shambled to the other side of the table. She grabbed the quill with her magic, focused hard - and made a random scribble at the bottom of the paper. She was trying hard, but she couldn't even recall her signature, much less draw it accurately. Her wobbly head didn't help matters either. "How'd I know that ya' dun... dun' scam me?" she mumbled and glared at the hooded game master. She felt like sprawling over the table and falling asleep, but she forced herself to stay awake. That question felt kind of important. "This is a Geis scroll, just like our previous contract." The Source snorted, audibly annoyed at the suspicion. "It's magically binding for both parties. No matter what I would normally think or feel, fulfilling my part of the deal will be the most compelling thought to me. Similarly, you will be compelled to fulfil your obligations... once I name them." "Hrmpf. Magic-schmagic!" Lyra rolled her eyes, then turned her wobbly-blurry vision to the hooded pony. "How'd magic work on ya' anyway?" "Geis is a very special branch of magic. But, to assure you... as Geis pacts are voluntarily made, they are guaranteed to work." The Source sighed. "I was compelled to assign Snowy to a useless musician, wasn't I?" Lyra hummed and poked her face with the quill. She wasn't thinking, though. She was only trying to think, but the gears in her head had long ceased to function. I... really shouldn't have had that last glass. For a lack of better alternative, she shrugged and pushed the quill under the other pony's hood. The Source grabbed the quill and put a wriggly line onto the parchment, right next to Lyra's. "And now it's sealed." The game master announced and threw the quill to the side. "Right - let's get over with it, then!" "Master?" Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Her head was aching as if she had caught a ten-ton anvil with it. The rest of her body was only slightly better off; her legs felt as if the sinews had turned into steel cables, refusing to move either way. Her stomach was burning and turning, her mouth drier than the deserts of the south. All in all, there were ample reasons which made her question the boldness of last night's drinking binge. Her over-sensitive hearing was simply the last straw. Oh for the love Celestia... why are you always so loud, Snowy?! Lyra popped her eyes open and promptly squinted. She was bathing in warm orange light. The rain outside had stopped, giving her a good view of the red sun looming over the horizon. It's almost night. Meh. So much for today. She groaned and pushed herself upright; a difficult endeavour. "What happened last night?" Snowy inquired again, displaying a complete lack of regard for her master's woes. "I was conversing with Master one moment... and then Master was lying on the floor before I knew better, next to this foul-smelling bottle." "I simply had a few drinks," Lyra mumbled. She couldn't stop squinting; even the thin light of the setting sun proved too much for her. "Got a visitor... ugh. My head feels like it's splitting." "A visitor? Who? When?" Snowy blinked with a befuddled expression, then scratched the top of her head. "Did I fell asleep? I mean, I hadn't slept ever since I remember, but that... doesn't mean all that much. Still, this would be a first..." Lyra stumbled forward, catching the side of the table before she crashed onto the floor. The table immediately groaned and moved, yielding to her weight. The tall bottle there began dancing and finally toppled, rolling around while leaving a thin trail of moonshine. Lyra winced at the sight. She had sure gone and done it this time! Bon was head over hooves in love with that nauseating joke of a drink. To spill the last drops of it, she would- Her eyes widened - as much as her burning pupils allowed. There would be no repercussions this time. She wasn't living with Bon any more, after all. Her closest friend - her only true friend - was not a friend any more. The power rushing away from her limbs, Lyra gave up on her grip. She dropped to the floor and curled up, gasping and wheezing. "MASTER!" While she understood the windigo's motives, Lyra couldn't bring herself to humour Snowy's whims this time. "It's... it's alright. Just gotta'... just a few seconds..." She was in tears by the time the last world left her mouth, and then completely shut the outside world out. She was dreaming before long. Of beautiful places, of a marvellous achievements, of music, of a good friend... It was a delusion, but she was enjoying her fond memories. It would be her happiest dream for a long time to come. And she cried all the while, for she knew those times were not coming back. A hero had no use for such delusions.