//------------------------------// // Well Met By Moonlight // Story: Darkest Shadows // by FireOfTheNorth //------------------------------// The mare’s hoofsteps echoed off the walls of ancient stone, lending an eerie quality to her journey. Night had fallen many hours earlier, and now all but the most major streets were deserted of ponies. Not every pony had the luxury of getting off of work before sunset, however, and the mare was now making her way home through the twisting labyrinth of streets and alleys that snaked through the housing district. She wasn’t scared; after all, she’d made this trip many times before, and the streets of Canterlot were the safest in Equestria. The street lamps flickered as she turned off the well-lit street into the dark alley she took as a shortcut to her home. She paused at the most dimly lit part of the passage as she thought she heard the sound of wings from behind. She looked around for a minute before concluding it was either the wind or some pegasus passing overhead. As she turned back around, she found herself staring into cruel and burning eyes. She tried to run, but was hooked by a massive claw and dragged back. Her screams cut through the night as she was torn to shreds and her blood soaked into the cobblestones. Darkest Shadows Part the First: Well Met By Moonlight *** The street was in chaos the next morning as the Canterlot Police tried to hold back inquisitive ponies. The nearby buildings had already been evacuated, the crime scene had been taped off, and a tent had been erected over the victim to hide her from prying eyes. As an added measure, one of the unicorn officers was holding a low level shield up over the area, discouraging any curious pegasi from trying to jump the lines. A wine-colored mare waded through the crowd, flashing a badge whenever she encountered resistance. She wore a uniform, though not of the Canterlot Police Department. Whereas the CPD wore uniforms of black and white, a silhouette of Canterlot on the shoulders, this mare’s uniform was a deep navy. Instead of an image of the city, her shoulders bore a crest composed of a sword and key crossed over a shield. Words ringed it, proclaiming “To Protect Her Royal Majesty and Her Subjects from Nightmares Within and Without.” “Stay back from the lines,” a police stallion warned her as she approached. “Agent Beryl Fields,” she introduced herself as she flashed her badge at the officer long enough for him to take no more than a glance. Most ponies didn’t know her organization existed, and they didn’t need to. All they needed to know was that she was important enough to be allowed passage. Unfortunately, today wasn’t going to be an easy day. “I’m sorry ma’am, but the scene is closed to every organization except the CPD. I suggest you speak to the Station Commander at the Palace about a joint effort,” the stallion replied. Beryl sighed. “I’m from the Ministry,” she proclaimed. “Which ministry?” “The Ministry,” Beryl replied, though it seemed futile; apparently, nopony had told this officer even the most basic rules about the chain of command in Canterlot. The Ministry was above all. “What’s going on here?” another officer asked as she trotted up to where Beryl and the police-stallion. “This mare won’t back off,” the stallion got the first word in, “Claims she’s from some ministry or other.” The police-mare’s eyes widened at that, and she glanced at Beryl’s uniform, spying the crest on her shoulder. “My apologies,” she said as she motioned for a hole in the shield to be opened, “Go right through, Agent Fields.” “Thank you,” Beryl said as she stepped toward the opening. “Wait, what’s this all about?” the police-stallion asked, “What’s the Ministry.” “Fine, I’ll tell you all you need to know,” Beryl sighed as she turned around to face him, “The Ministry is a secret organization under the command of Celestia herself. We wield absolute power and authority in Equestria; the power to make those who get in our way disappear. This time was an honest mistake, but if you even think about obstructing our efforts again, I promise you will not like the outcome.” “Is that enough for you?” Beryl asked with a mocking smile. “Y-yes,” the stallion replied. She had been deadly serious and he knew it. Hoping for no further interruptions, Beryl turned and trotted through the shield, the magical barrier closing up behind her. Pushing the tent flap open, she stepped into the crime scene. Within a pool of blood lay the body of a mare, or rather the pieces of the body of a mare. Shreds of tattered flesh were scattered through the pool, but the majority of the body was equally divided in half, as if some creature had grabbed the pony and torn her in two. Of course, Beryl knew better than most that such a thing was entirely possible. Two more ponies were examining the body: a grizzled earth pony stallion and a pegasus with a camera, using her wings to get a shot from every angle. “Agent Berry, glad you could come,” the stallion greeted her as he noticed her presence. “I was hoping it would be you, Grey Wind,” Beryl admitted, “I had a bit of a fiasco outside. Didn’t you warn them I was coming?” “What, and admit the Ministry exists?” he replied sarcastically, acting offended. “Fine, be that way, you stubborn old fool,” Berry laughed, “So, what’ve we got here?” “Well, we don’t know much more than what you see here,” Grey Wind replied, “Early in the morning, some of the nearby residents called us reporting screams. When we got here, there was nothing but the remains of the body, and no sign of whatever attacked this mare.” “Any magical discharges in the area?” Beryl asked, staring at the mutilated corpse. “None that our officers could pick up, I’m afraid,” Grey Wind said, shooing the photographer out of the tent before he continued speaking, “What do you think could have done this?” “I don’t know; the damage is pretty severe,” Beryl said as she probed the corpse with her own magic. “Do you think it could have been a werewolf?” “No, I seriously doubt that,” Beryl said, shaking her head, “There hasn’t been a werewolf spotting in Canterlot in fifty years. And besides, the moon’s not at the proper phase for werewolf activity.” “I can’t think of anything else that could’ve caused this much damage,” Grey Wind said, gesturing at the two halves of the dead mare. “Oh, I can think of plenty of things, and none of them pleasant.” Beryl said with a grimace, “However, none of them make sense. The body was left in the open, practically untouched apart from being ripped in two, and there are no sinister magical signs in the area.” “So what do we do now?” Grey asked. “Collect the mare’s remains and have them sent to the Ministry for further inspection,” Beryl commanded, pulling out a pair of sunglasses before stepping out of the tent, “There’s nothing more your officers can do here.” *** After Nightmare Moon’s rebellion, Celestia formed the EUP Guard to protect herself from threats. This is common history, taught in every school and found in every textbook in Equestria. What few ponies know, however, is that the EUP was not the only new organization that Celestia formed after Luna’s banishment. After the moon princess was expelled from the world, the evil creatures of the dark—the creatures Luna had held at bay for centuries—become suddenly more active. To combat these nightmares, Celestia formed a secret order known only as “The Ministry.” What began with a few knights pledged to destroy unholy threats to the realm soon became a massive organization. Hidden branch offices exist in every major city in Equestria, dispatching agents to combat the supernatural wherever it rears its ugly head. The head of the Ministry, however, is in Canterlot, built into the mountain itself during the construction of the city, the location of its well-concealed and magically warded entrance known only to a few. Beryl Fields is one of those few. “You’re back soon, Berry,” one of the security mares called to her as she lowered the magical shield protecting the Ministry’s entrance. As she did so, the other security mare raised one up behind Beryl. “There wasn’t much to be done in the field,” she admitted, “Whatever I’m looking for didn’t leave a trace.” The shield behind her rose back up as she entered the Ministry’s massive foyer. Ministry agents were scattered throughout the hall, chatting with colleagues or preparing to be assigned. Armored agents stood at attention along the perimeter, appearing docile, but in reality they were actively scanning the room with invisible magic for any threat. The far wall was dominated by the Ministry’s symbol—the shield, sword, and key—and two magical notice boards neighbored it. The one on the left cycled through important announcements for incoming agents, and the one on the right held the total number of incidents for the month. Currently it read 83, unusually high for the time of year, especially considering only two weeks had passed in the current month. “Hey Berry, you’re back quicker than I expected,” a dull blue pegasus said as he landed next to her. “Roaring Thunder, how many times must I tell you to address me as Senior Agent Beryl Fields?” Beryl said, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, c’mon, don’t put on that superior attitude,” Thunder said, matching pace with Beryl as she trotted down one of the Ministry’s hallways, “I’ve only been here a few years fewer than you.” “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m senior to you,” Beryl said with a scowl, “Or that your experience doesn’t come near to mine. Can you even hit a moving target with your crossbow?” “You know I prefer lances,” he said, gesturing with his wings to the assortment strapped to his back, “Not every agent has to be an expert marksmare like you.” Beryl harrumphed in response and quickened her pace. “Fine, be as bullheaded as always,” Thunder said, “I’m taking a team to investigate a disturbance in White Tail Wood. You should come along on a mission some time.” “You know I work alone,” Beryl grumbled, but Thunder had already sped off. During her conversation with the irksome pegasus, she had reached her office; just one nondescript door in a hallway of nondescript doors. The magical lock recognized her presence and let her pass through into the office. It wasn’t the largest in the Ministry, but it was good enough for Beryl’s needs. She hung her crossbow up on the wall before trotting over and sitting down behind her desk. “Access Bestiary,” she spoke aloud as she focused her magic on a small gem set into the desk’s surface, “I need descriptions of all monsters known to tear victims apart without eating them and who leave no magical signature.” After waiting for a moment, a stack of papers materialized on her desk in a burst of flame and smoke. The stack wasn’t very thick, but there were more pages than Beryl had expected. Setting to work, she searched through them for anything that could match what she’d seen in the alleyway. A few of the results proved hopeful, but appeared less so after the autopsy report came in later in the day. Still, Beryl continued to search for any possible lead, widening her search in hopes of stumbling upon something she’d missed before. By the end of the day, she was no closer to figuring out what had committed the attack, and resigned herself to searching through records by hoof. That, however, would have to wait until morning. *** The police stallion let her through without a problem this time, no doubt remembering her lecture from the day before. Beryl was surprised to learn upon awakening that another identical attack had occurred in the night. Grey Wind was once again there as she stepped into the tent that covered another unfortunate mare’s mutilated corpse. “I hoped we wouldn’t have to call you in again so soon,” Grey Wind said as he noticed Berry, “Do you think it’s the same thing that attacked yesterday?” “I’m almost sure of it,” Beryl said as she examined the victim. “Have you figured out what it could be?” Grey Wind asked hopefully. “I’ll be honest with you; I have no idea. None of the monsters I suspected seem to fit the bill,” Berry said with a sigh, “I’m going to manually search through the old records today just in case I find something.” Berry’s head jerked up as her magic sensed something. She hadn’t expected anything after the day before, but had decided to try just in case, and she had picked up a magical trail nearby. “What is it?” Grey Wind asked. “I’ve got something,” Beryl said as she stepped out of the tent, following her horn, “It’s faint—too faint for your officers to have picked up—but there’s definitely something.” Beryl’s magic led her a short distance away from the crime scene, Grey Wind following. Curiously enough, she was detecting two magical trails, one extremely faint, and another only slightly stronger. They converged over a small pile of stone dust. Beryl waved her horn over the dust, but detected nothing from it. Looking around, she saw that she was standing next to a construction site, so it may have been mere coincidence that the trails met here. Being a mare of the Ministry, however, Beryl did not believe in coincidences, and scooped a bit of the dust up into a vial to take back to be tested. “Have you found something?” Grey Wind inquired. “I think so,” Beryl replied, “There are two magical trails here, and it looks like one follows the other, as if it was tracking whatever left the first one. I’m going to follow them and see where they lead. Have the victim’s remains sent to the Ministry, just like before.” “Of course; good hunting,” Grey Wind wished Beryl as she took off following the magical trails. Beryl worked her way through city, feeling with her magic for the trails as they grew fainter. It was lucky she’d showed up when she had. It wouldn’t be long before they faded completely. Several times she thought she’d lost the trail after entering busy areas filled with ponies. The business day was in full swing in Canterlot, and many ponies didn’t appreciate a unicorn pushing past them with her head in the air. Her intrusions earned her several curses, and she even lost the trail for a few minutes after crashing into a lavender unicorn with her nose buried in a book. Luckily, the other mare seemed more preoccupied with resuming her reading than berating Beryl, so she was able to recover the trail before it grew cold. Her search led her deeper into Canterlot, and closer to Canterlot Mountain until, quite suddenly, she was forced to stop. A towering wall blocked her path, soaring up several stories at least. The paths diverged here anyway. The older (and fainter) trail continued through the wall, but the newer trail stopped at the wall and suddenly shot off in the opposite direction. Following it only led her back to the wall, then away, then back again, before it finally shot off into the sky, dispersing as it got further away. Giving up on following that trail until she became an alicorn (not very likely) or got help from Roaring Thunder (even less likely), she turned her attention back to the trail that passed through the wall. As an agent of the Ministry, Beryl knew many powerful spells, and cast one on herself that would allow her to pass through solid matter. Taking a step forward, she pushed herself into the wall. Without warning, she was suddenly thrown backwards, bouncing and rolling across the cobblestones. The remains of a magical discharge sizzled around her as she stood up. Rubbing her sore head, she contemplated the bizarre turn of events. Now the second trail made sense. Whatever had been following the first creature had been shoved back just as Beryl had. The wall obviously had some powerful enchantments cast upon it. But why would somepony have bothered to cast spells upon this particular wall? Beryl needed answers, and she intended to get them. *** ROSETHORN HALL So read the tarnished sign Beryl was staring at. After teleportation had also failed to get her through the wall, she traveled along it until she was able to pass through. Then she retraced her steps, following the wall back to where she’d begun. Canterlot’s streets soon began to push her away from the wall, and by the time she reached her destination there was a whole block between her and the barrier. Bordering the portion of the wall she’d failed to pass through was a large grassy lot surrounded by a low brick wall topped with high wrought iron bars. Beryl followed the fence to a large iron gate that allowed access to a cobblestone road leading up to a large brick house overgrown with ivy; Rosethorn Hall if the sign on the fence was to be believed. Pushing open the gate, Beryl made her way up to the front of the mansion. A few young foals ran in front of her as she neared the door, but they seemed to not even notice her, too caught up in whatever game they were playing. When she reached the door, she lifted the heavy knocker and allowed it to slam into the aged wood a few times. “Sandra, if that’s you knocking with your magic again, I swear-” a robed mare yelled as she yanked open the door, before she saw Beryl standing there, “Oh, my apologies. Please come in.” Before Beryl could tell the mare the purpose of her visit, she found herself being dragged inside. In no time at all she was sitting on a couch in a dark parlor, the mare seated in a chair across from her. “I suppose I should begin by asking if you’re looking for a filly or a colt,” the mare said as she pulled a book off a nearby shelf. “What?” Beryl asked, bewildered at the sudden turn of events, “What are you talking about?” “You came to adopt, correct?” the mare asked, giving Beryl a concerned look, “Why else would you come here?” “To be honest, I don’t even know what ‘here’ is,” Beryl admitted. “Oh,” the mare said, her face falling as she put the book back where she’d gotten it, “My apologies. This is Rosethorn Hall Orphanage, and I’m Mistress Moonlight, one of the ponies tasked with taking care of these poor, parentless foals.” An orphanage; that certainly explained the foals Beryl had seen playing outside. But it didn’t explain why the wall behind the house was so heavily warded, or why something had been able to pass through. Beryl had picked up no more magical trail leading away from this place, so whatever it was had come to the orphanage. But why? “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was an orphanage,” Beryl said when she realized she’d been silent for a few minutes, “From the appearance, I assumed this was some noble’s manor house.” “Well, it is that too,” Moonlight replied, “Rosethorn Hall is property of the Briarheart family.” “I’m not familiar with the Briarhearts,” Beryl said, scouring her memory for any mention of the house, “Where do they live if you’re here?” “Lord Briarheart lives here in a secluded portion of the property, just as the Briarhearts have ever since their family donated it to our cause two centuries ago,” Moonlight explained. “Wait, he lives here?” Beryl asked, astounded that a high lord would live in the same house as dozens of foals. “That’s right. We don’t really see him, as he doesn’t like to be disturbed, but he does leave notes outside his rooms from time to time,” Moonlight said, “We sometimes send food or other items that he requests down to him. In return, he allows us to use the property and grants us anything we ask for the foals.” “I think I should speak to this Lord Briarheart,” Beryl said. If anypony knew why the home was so carefully guarded, it would be the owner. Besides, a high lord that lived a life hidden from everypony seemed suspicious. “Oh, I don’t think so; like I said, he doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Moonlight said with a frown. “He won’t have a choice,” Beryl said, pulling out her badge, “I’m on an investigation with the Ministry.” “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter what organization you’re from,” Moonlight said, standing, “You’re not going to intrude upon Lord Briarheart’s privacy. I know my Celestia-given rights. Unless you have a warrant, I don’t want to see you here again. Now get out of here, this is private property!” Just as quickly as Beryl had earlier found herself pulled into the building, she was now pushed out. The dazzling return of Celestia’s sun and the slamming of a door behind her were the only warnings that she was being evicted. She spun around to face Rosethorn Hall and angrily stormed up to the door, banging the knocker against the wood repeatedly. This time nopony showed up, however. She was about to knock the door down by force when she felt a tug on the sleeve of her uniform. “Excuse me miss, what are you doing?” a tiny unicorn filly asked as Beryl turned to see a small crowd of the orphan foals had gathered around her. “I need to see Lord Briarheart,” Beryl said disdainfully; then an idea came to her, “You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?” “I don’t think he’s here today,” a pegasus colt in the back spoke up, “The note outside his room said he’d gone to court.” “Court?” Beryl asked, puzzled how a stallion who spent all his time alone could possibly have committed a misdemeanor requiring a summons to court, “Oh, you mean the Royal Court. I’d forgotten it was in session today. Thanks a lot, kid.” Beryl made her way through the crowd of foals and off the property. It seemed that Lord Briarheart may not have been as solitary as Moonlight had led her to believe. Either that or the note was a lie. If so, Beryl could always come back after visiting the Royal Court and break the door down then. *** Throughout Equestria, all ponies pledge allegiance to one ruler: Princess Celestia. To most, she is the government, the one pony who controls the entire land, as well as the Sun and Moon. In reality, however, things are far different. One pony, even an alicorn princess, is not even nearly adequate for controlling a nation as expansive as Equestria. Before Equestria was an empire ruled from Canterlot, it was a mish-mash of small nations, each with their own leader, usually a member of a noble family. As Equestria grew and absorbed these nations, the noble families did not simply disappear. Instead, they moved to the seat of power in Canterlot, where they could make sure their (and to a lesser extent, their subjects’) interests were protected by the imperial government. The Royal Court formed over time, a place where all the noble families in Equestria could meet and discuss (or bicker over) the issues of the day. Celestia’s advisors and the various heads of her governmental programs are for the most part selected by and from the Royal Court. Laws, before they are brought before Celestia, must first be approved in Royal Court. All small matters are also settled in Royal Court instead of being brought to the Princess directly. Royal Court is where the real power in Equestria resides, but it’s also a place where rarely anything is accomplished. Beryl flattened her ears against her head in a futile attempt to block out some of the noise. She’d never been to Royal Court before, and had no idea it would be so loud! The circular room echoed with the shouts of arguing nobles. The stadium-like seating for the nobles was far below the public seating, but the din carried up to where Beryl and other curious Equestrian citizens watched. She tried to follow the nobles’ argument, but was soon lost. It didn’t help that they were constantly shouting over each other, or that every noble seemed to be yelling at the same time. Instead, she surveyed the Royal Court, searching for Lord Briarheart. She spotted his assigned place, but it wouldn’t do to interrupt Royal Court (not that she could’ve if she’d tried), so she was forced to wait until they took a break. In the meantime, she found a courier (indispensible to the Royal Court) and sent her with a message for the Ministry. Soon, a Ministry courier returned with a stack of files for Beryl to sort through: everything the Ministry had on the Briarheart family. There wasn’t much to go on; the entire family seemed to be just as secretive as the current Lord Briarheart. Only one image was included of a member of the Briarheart family. A portrait made nearly 400 years ago depicted one of Lord Briarheart’s ancestors standing alongside other noble families that had contributed considerable resources to Equestria’s brand new (at the time) airship fleet. One of the airships floated in the background, recently christened as the very first of its kind. It was a momentous occasion that no noble, even the Briarhearts, could have afforded to be absent from, which explained this rare glimpse of the family’s head. The Lord Briarheart in the portrait was an earth pony stallion with a coat and mane of pure black in a waistcoat and suit that had been popular at the time. Curiously enough, he also wore dark glasses, even though the portrait had been painted on an exceptionally cloudy day. Perhaps this Lord Briarheart had been blind. Then again, Beryl considered, maybe it was genetic and the entire family had visual impairment, which would explain somewhat why they rarely showed themselves in public. The only way to be able to tell for sure would be to meet the current Lord Briarheart. Though she’d found his position in the Royal Court, Beryl was convinced she still hadn’t seen him. Behind the podium that bore the Briarheart name and sigil (a flaming heart wrapped in thorny vines) sat a pale blue unicorn stallion in a business suit. He seemed to be one of the very few members of the Royal Court not taking part in the argument; instead he scribbled absentmindedly on a pad of parchment. When the Royal Court finally took a break, Beryl made her way out of the chamber and down to the hallway where the mysterious stallion would emerge. Pushing her way through the crowd of nobles was difficult, but she finally managed to find and follow him to the royal apartments, the complex in Canterlot Castle where nobles could stay when away from home. He’d made it into the Briarheart family quarters by the time Beryl caught up to him, and she knocked on the door, hoping for a quick response. The mysterious stallion didn’t disappoint. “May I help you?” he asked as he opened the door for Beryl, eyeing her up and down. “Yes, I’m looking for Lord Briarheart,” she stated, “I have some questions to ask him.” “I’m afraid you’re out of luck; to my knowledge Lord Briarheart has never personally attended Royal Court. However, I may be able to answer any questions you have; feel free to come in,” the stallion said, motioning Beryl inside. She obliged, stepping into the royal apartments of the Briarhearts. What she saw surprised her. Instead of lavish rooms stretching in all directions, there was only a single room set up like an office. It was a well-furnished office to be sure, but nothing like what Beryl would have expected for the temporary home of a noble. “It’s not what you were expecting, I take it?” the stallion asked as he sat down behind an ornate desk, “Like I said, Lord Briarheart rarely, if ever, comes to Royal Court, so his apartments are mostly unused. Since I’m the only one who uses them, the Royal Court decided I only needed a single room, and had the rest added to the families who dwell up and down the hall.” “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name before,” the stallion said when he’d finished explaining. “Agent Beryl Fields,” she answered, flashing her badge as she took a seat, “And you would be?” “Silver Shimmer,” the stallion replied, “In case you’re wondering what I’m doing here, I’m Lord Briarheart’s appointed representative in Royal Court.” “So, are you a relative of the family or something?” Beryl asked. “Hardly,” Silver Shimmer said, laughing, “No; I’m Lord Briarheart’s accountant.” “His accountant?” Beryl asked disbelievingly. “Yes, I handle the Briarheart family’s vast finances, and I also make sure the family is represented in Royal Court,” Silver Shimmer replied, “In fact, I’m the third in my family to do so; my mother and grandmother preceded me in this position.” “I don’t mean to be rude,” Beryl said, “But I’m having a hard time believing Lord Briarheart would entrust his family’s fate to a clerk.” “More nobles that you know prefer to have a stake in Royal Court, but don’t wish to be there themselves, so they appoint somepony to take their place,” Silver said, leaning back in his chair, “You’re correct that most choose somepony close to them, and in that Lord Briarheart is somewhat of an irregularity.” “However, my family has taken good care of the Briarhearts’ wealth over the years, and represented them well in Royal Court. You may know that the Briarhearts are a very secretive family, and we respect that. I make sure that Lord Briarheart’s bank account is always balanced, and I don’t ask any questions. In return, I’ve always received a substantial bonus for Hearth’s Warming that ensures I don’t have to take any additional clients during the upcoming tax season to make ends meet.” “So, you must know him pretty well,” Beryl said, her thoughts returning to her mission. “I suppose so,” Silver said, scratching his chin, “He does communicate regularly with me; by letter, of course; I’ve never met him in person.” “Wait,” Beryl said, waving a hoof in objection, “You’ve never even seen the pony you work for?” “No; like I said, the Briarhearts are a very secretive family.” “You’ve never met him, yet you still think you’re qualified to represent him in Royal Court?” Beryl asked. “I do,” Silver said with conviction, “My main objective is to protect the Briarheart family’s property and title. It’s not hard to tell what threatens that in Royal Court. Have you ever been to Court?” “Earlier today I was,” Beryl admitted, “Though I couldn’t quite follow the argument.” “Well, the debate earlier was about the height of the new fences to be erected in Canterlot Southgate Park,” Silver explained, “Some say they should be six pasterns tall, others six-and-a-half.” “That’s it?” Beryl asked, he jaw dropping, “That huge shouting match was over the height of fences?” “Indeed,” Silver replied, “Not that it matters. When the debate ends, the issue will be sent to the Committee on Public Lands, which will refer it to the Subcommittee on Parks and Recreation, which will refer it to the Canterlot Parks Committee. Ultimately, three ponies will make the decision, and their minds were made up before the debate started.” “Is every day in Royal Court like this?” “More or less,” Silver said with a shrug, “Sometimes a more important issue is brought up, and then things get really heated.” “How does the Royal Court get anything done?” Beryl asked, pressing a hoof against her forehead. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation was giving her a headache. “Oh, it doesn’t,” Silver replied bluntly, “Just why do you think Celestia allows it to exist? Its power is greater than hers in theory, but in practice it has little to no power, since it has no ability to accomplish anything. Once, for fun, I calculated how long it would take for the Royal Court to plot a coup to overthrow Celestia. It would take forty years just for them to finish deliberations that would allow them to refer the matter to a committee to consider a coup. Of course, by then too many members of court would have retired or died of old age and the matter would have to be renewed from scratch. Of course, Celestia would hear about the coup long before then. She keeps a close eye on the Royal Court, you know.” “Oh really?” Beryl asked. She knew that the Ministry was keeping watch on the Royal Court, and the Ministry did work directly for Celestia, but how could this pony know that? “That’s right,” Silver said, not noticing Beryl’s suddenly guarded attitude, “Did you see a dark gray unicorn sitting in the public area? He’d be hard to miss with that blood-red mane of his.” In fact, Beryl had taken note of the unicorn. He stood out from the ponies around him as he stared intently down at the nobles, a frown on his muzzle. Despite the shortage of seating in the public viewing area, there were no ponies seated around him. Instead, an aura of gloom seemed to hang around him; though maybe that was because of the way he was dressed. The stallion had been wearing a midnight black suit with a dark and ragged cloak draped over it, the hood over his head allowing only his face to be seen, along with the dark red locks of mane that spilled out of it. Or maybe it had to do with the eye patch over his right eye, a scar clearly visible above and below it. “That would be Malthus,” Silver said after Beryl nodded, “He’s been Celestia’s closest advisor for—nopony knows how long—at least a hundred years.” “How is that possible?” Beryl asked. What disturbed her the most, however, was that she’d never even heard of this pony before today. Was he unimportant to the Ministry, or had he somehow managed to escape their attention. Then again, perhaps he’d been overlooked due to his closeness to the princess. “Nopony knows,” Silver answered, “Some say his family has unusual longevity. Others say he managed to perfect age magic and slowed his aging like Star-Swirl the Bearded did. Still there are others who say he’s a vampire.” Now Beryl knew that wasn’t true. The Ministry kept very close tabs on all vampires, and there hadn’t been any in Canterlot in over a century. A bell chimed on Silver Shimmer’s desk, and he cast a quick spell on it to stop the noise. “Looks like Royal Court is reconvening,” he said, rising from his place behind the desk, “I hope I was able to help you.” “Yes, just one final thing,” Beryl said, rising as well, “Do you think you could arrange for me to meet with Lord Briarheart personally? It’s very important that I speak to him.” “I’m afraid not,” Silver said, his face transitioning into a scowl, “Lord Briarheart doesn’t like to disturbed for any reason.” “Of course; I understand,” Beryl said as she trotted out of the office alongside the stallion. I’ll just have to make an appointment myself, she thought as Silver Shimmer walked away. *** Beryl returned to the Ministry after that, returning the files that she’d had delivered earlier and passing on a message to look into Malthus. It couldn’t hurt, she decided, and if he was no threat, then her warning would be dismissed. She’d pored through the Briarheart files as much as she could, and had gotten nothing very useful out of them. She spent a few hours looking though the files the Ministry had on the Shimmer family, and also found nothing very interesting, other than that Silver’s sister had once been a personal protégé of Princess Celestia. As the sun began to set, she departed the Ministry, armed and ready for the task ahead. She was going to get in and see Lord Briarheart even if it required breaking into Rosethorn Hall. Hopefully all the orphans would be in bed, so they wouldn’t alert any of their caretakers to Beryl’s presence, and she could get in and out with nopony but her target seeing her. When she arrived at Rosethorn Hall, the moon had already risen above the spires of Canterlot, and the manor-house was dark save for a few windows. Beryl jumped the fence, using a spell to assist in her leap, and landed silently within the grounds. Stealthily, she crept around toward the back of the house, hoping to find another way into the mansion. She jumped back in surprise and darted behind a tree as a shadowy figure unexpectedly rose from the grass. It was pony-shaped at least, but Beryl could think of hundreds of creatures that could mimic a pony’s form. Still, she held out hope that this was Lord Briarheart, and what she had just seen was him emerging from a secret passage out of the mansion (something known to be not uncommon for nobles to have.) The figure took no notice of Beryl and trotted toward the high wall behind the house. At the exact point she had been thrown back, it stepped through the wall as if it didn’t even exist. After waiting a short amount of time to ensure she wouldn’t crash into her prey, Beryl ran forward to the exact point it had passed though. The wall was unyielding to her, however, and she hit solid stone. Fortunately, she had brought along the proper equipment tonight, and after dipping her hooves in a potion, she was able to easily the scale the wall. The shadowy figure had gotten a decent lead on her by the time she made it over, and she had to hurry to keep it in sight. It wove through the city toward what seemed like nowhere in particular, and after a while Beryl was tempted to confront it. However, her curiosity at finding out where it was going won out, and she stayed in the shadows at a safe distance. The creature also seemed to be keeping to the shadows, avoiding any major roads and acting extra cautious when passing by doors or windows. It was as if it didn’t want to be seen, and Beryl could think of plenty of reasons why. One of those reasons was that a certain noble was so secretive that he only went out at night. She was fairly sure in her mind by now that this creature—whatever it was—was Lord Briarheart. What was uncertain was where he was headed. Beryl eventually found herself in the same part of town that the mangled bodies had been found the two previous nights. Was Lord Briarheart the culprit? Beryl double-checked her crossbow and its bolts, ready to use it to take him down if he turned out to be the killer. She almost didn’t notice when the figure stopped, hiding behind a corner and peering around it. From her position, she could see down the alley in the direction the creature was looking. A young mare trotted through the dark, all on her own. Beryl drew her crossbow and prepared a bolt to fire; silver just in case Briarheart turned out to be something supernatural. Out of the corner of her eye, Beryl caught movement. A dark and bulky figure swooped through the air, making a sudden turn and heading down the alleyway. As it dived for the oblivious mare, the figure Beryl had been following leapt into action. It produced a potion and tossed it at the mare. An orange cloud of smoke welled up around her, then constricted in on itself and disappeared. The monster that had been diving for her slammed into the ground, but quickly recovered, spinning around to face the potion’s source. Now that it was still, Beryl got a better look at the beast. The creature was a bizarre shape, somewhat similar to a diamond dog if it were twisted into a demonic form. The entire creature seemed to be covered in leathery, gray skin, a long spiked tail protruded from its hindquarters, and two bat-like wings sprouted from its back. Its face was most disturbing, with a bat-like nose and ears, tusks growing from its jaw, and beady eyes burning with unholy fire. Long claws extended from its muscled arms and legs, and they whistled through the air as it swiped at the Briarheart-figure. The pony easily dodged the attack, keeping out of range of the monster. He pulled spikes from straps around his hooves with his mouth, and threw them at the creature. Where they impacted, the flesh burned and smoke trailed up from the holes. The monster let out an ear-splitting squeal as it reeled back, and Beryl momentarily lost control of her magic, dropping her crossbow, but managing to recover it before it clattered against the cobblestones. “Daybreak, to me!” the pony shouted in a deep voice. A sword’s hilt materialized with a flash in the air in front of his muzzle, and as he grabbed hold of it in his teeth, the rest of the sword began to appear. It was a beast of a weapon, a greatsword with a blade as long as the body of the pony wielding it. It appeared to have been forged from two metals, with the edges a shining gold, and the spine of the weapon a black-silver. The pony swung the sword around toward the monster like it weighed nothing, skewering it through the heart. However, it seemed to have no effect other than to the make the creature mad. “An el nomine ai mi maestro Sithis, Ei transposi de en a eterne justicium!” the pony incanted. The monster began to glow around where the sword had skewered it, and soon its whole body was alight. Demonic screeches rose up from it as it was consumed and vanished. Stone dust rained down from where its body had been, forming a pile on the ground similar to the one Beryl had found at the crime scene the previous day. “Daybreak, be gone,” the shadowy figure said, and the sword vanished into thin air. “So, are you going to come out of the shadows now?” the figure said, turning to look directly at where Beryl was hiding. “You first,” Beryl said, trying to sound assertive. How had he seen her? What was he? The figure grunted, but complied, and stepped up to the edge of the circle of light cast by a nearby gas lamp. Now that he was in the light, Beryl could get a much better look at him. He was an earth pony stallion—or at least appeared to be one—with a black coat and mane. He wore several mismatched layers of clothing, the innermost one being a mid-Celestian era waistcoat and neck cravat. Over the waistcoat were looped bandoliers of leather pouches, and on top of that was a western duster. A Reneighssance-era assassin’s hood covered most of his head, but Beryl could still make out that he was wearing a set of reflective sunglasses popular with the Wonderbolts’ upper echelon. If he stripped some of his clothing off, he would look exactly like the Lord Briarheart from the 400-year old portrait. “Now will you come out of the shadows?” the stallion asked impatiently. “First, what did you do with that mare?” Beryl asked, raising her crossbow to point at the stallion. “She’s safe,” he assured her in a gravelly voice, “I was able to get here in time tonight. I assume that’s why you were following me?” “You killed one of those things last night,” Beryl said, looking at the fresh pile of stone dust on the street. “That’s right,” the stallion confirmed, “Though by the time I reached it, it had already claimed a victim. Now, will you please step out of the shadows and show yourself!” Cautiously, Beryl stepped forward until she took was standing in the light of the gas lamp. She allowed her crossbow to drop just a little. The stallion didn’t appear to have any hostile intent toward her, but given how fast he’d killed the creature just a minute earlier she wouldn’t have much time if he turned against her. “You’re Lord Briarheart?” Beryl asked. “That’s one name I go by,” the stallion snorted, “I believe you at the Ministry call me the Black Briar.” “How do you know about the Ministry?” Beryl demanded, suddenly on guard and pointing her crossbow squarely between his eyes. “That’s not something you need to know right now,” he grumbled, “Maybe some other time, but not now. Tell me, do you know what that thing was I just killed?” “No,” Beryl answered, not allowing her guard to drop this time. “Typical. What has the Ministry become?” the Black Briar grumbled, “That was a gargoyle, as was the thing that killed the other two mares. I never expected to see them again, much less two at once. I get the feeling that there’s more out there, and I’ll need the Ministry’s help to track them down.” “Hey, what makes you think I’ll help you?” Beryl asked, keeping her crossbow trained on the stallion as he started to walk away. “You had no idea what a gargoyle truly is,” he spoke over his shoulder, “The nightmares you’ve been trained to fight are nothing compared to these terrors. You’re curious how I know, and how I know about the Ministry. Take your pick for the reason, the truth is, I just know you will. Come to Rosethorn Hall when you decide. I’ll let the caretakers know to let you in.” Beryl lowered her crossbow as Black Briar trotted off, disappearing into the shadows. He’d let her follow him before, she realized. But why; because he needed her help? Who was this pony really? *** No news of gargoyle attacks greeted Beryl when she returned to the Ministry the following morning. However, there had been a disturbance in the Capital Plaza when a mare had suddenly materialized in a cloud of orange smoke scared out of her wits. Her sleep during the rest of the night had been fitful as she struggled with what had happened. Upon arriving at the Ministry, she went straight to her office and got to work trying to sort things out. Her searches in the Bestiary for gargoyles returned no results, until she forced it to return absolutely anything pertaining to the creatures. In the end, all she got was a short notice that gargoyles had been retired from the Bestiary after they had been completely destroyed in a Ministry raid over half a millennium ago. Any searches into the archives also returned nothing on gargoyles. It seemed any file about the assumedly extinct creatures had been deemed a waste of space and had been eliminated. With her searches into gargoyles stuck at a dead end, Beryl looked into the Ministry’s files on the Black Briar. There was considerably more documentation on him. The Black Briar was a catchall term the Ministry used for any rogue monster hunter with unknown identity, and there had been many over the years. However, Beryl sensed from the descriptions that it was highly possible all were the same character, even though incidents were often decades apart. Records on the Black Briar stretched back almost 200 years, which meant that if it truly was one pony, he had incredible longevity like Malthus. The descriptions also convinced her that the Lord Briarheart she had met the night before was indeed the same pony. The Black Briar was always said to be a figure cloaked in black—though just what uniform he was cloaked in changed subtly over the years—sometimes seen with an otherworldly sword, sometimes not. If Lord Briarheart was indeed the Black Briar, it meant he was extremely old, which also explained the striking similarity between the current Lord Briarheart and the one from the 400-year old portrait. They were the same pony. The Black Briar seemed to know what was going on, and Beryl wanted to speak to him again about this gargoyle threat that the Ministry seemed to know nothing about. On the other hoof, the last thing she wanted to do was to confirm his prediction that she’d come to him. He’d said he needed the Ministry’s help, yet he hadn’t told her how. It seemed she had no choice but to pay him a visit. After she’d put it off as long as she could, she left the Ministry for Rosethorn Hall. A different mare answered the door this time, and though she seemed suspicious, she did lead Beryl to Lord Briarheart’s quarters. He lived in the basement of the house, the entrance to his room a simple wooden door with a mailbox fastened to the wall next to it. Bits of paper still clung to nails pounded into the door to hold the noble’s messages for the orphanage caretakers. Giving a push, Beryl found the door swung in easily. As she stepped through the doorway, she saw that a multitude of locks both mundane and magical were fastened to the door’s back, though they’d all been disabled to allow her to pass. The room was small and poorly lit, and Beryl used the light from her horn to navigate to the far end of the room, where another door awaited her. This door was far more ornate, with complex patterns carved into the frame. No doubt they served some magical protective purpose. Who was the Black Briar, that he knew magic so obscure and powerful? This door too swung open easily, and Beryl stepped through, her tail sweeping through the line of dust that had somehow managed to form just inside the door. She found herself standing in a well furnished room. Furniture from all time periods was scattered about the chamber, gas lamps lined the walls above glass cases displaying ancient weapons, but the Black Briar was nowhere to be found. Several doors around the room led deeper into the lair, and the stallion was most likely to be found behind one of them, but Beryl wanted a few minutes to look around before speaking to him. Most likely she was the first pony besides Lord Briarheart to set hoof in these chambers in centuries. Her horn buzzed with the magical energy she detected all around her, somehow familiar and unfathomable at the same time. Upon a table in the center of the room sat a large crystal ball with an incredibly detailed model of Canterlot within. She trotted up to get a better look. “Don’t touch that,” a gravelly voice commanded, causing Beryl to whip he head around at the sound’s source. The Black Briar was standing near one of the doors that led out of the room, and he shut and locked it before trotting toward Beryl. He was wearing only his waistcoat, cravat, and aviator sunglasses today, and his mane was pulled back into a messy ponytail. Without his full getup, he looked even more incredibly like the Lord Briarheart from the portrait, further reinforcing Beryl’s suspicions that they were the same pony. “I wasn’t going to touch it,” Beryl said defensively, “I’m not a foal.” The stallion harrumphed in response and motioned for Beryl to take a seat. She complied; choosing a chair after the Black Briar had taken one himself. Beryl waited for the stallion to say something, but he simply sat patiently, waiting for Beryl to make the first move. “So, you came,” he said at last when Beryl wasn’t forthcoming with anything. “Yes, because I’ve got some questions for you,” she replied, “First off, who are you really?” “I told you; I’m the Black Briar.” “But how do you know about the Ministry?” Beryl asked, “Who told you?” “Nopony told me,” the Black Briar grumbled, “I helped found it.” “You what?” Beryl asked incredulously. “You heard me. In the time after Nightmare Moon’s disappearance, Equestria experienced a sudden explosion of evil creatures, partially due to Princess Luna no longer holding them back, partially due to Celestia’s broken heart shattering the world’s harmony. In any case, the world became filled with monsters. I was already working to fight them when Celestia came to me with her idea of creating a Ministry to combat them on a larger scale,” the stallion narrated, “I went along with her plan, training the first few generations of recruits and working to hold evil at bay. I passed on all the knowledge I had on these supernatural threats to the Ministry in the time I worked there.” “But that’s not possible,” Beryl objected, “The Ministry was founded by the Seven Knights of Dawn. Besides, that was nearly a millennium ago.” “Do you really find it that hard to believe?” the Black Briar asked, cocking an eyebrow, “I saw from the first moment you trotted in here that you suspect I’m far older than I look. What’s a millennium to me? I’ve already lived through five of them.” “So, the Briarheart family?” Beryl asked. “That’s right. It was always only me,” he confirmed what Beryl had suspected, “Of course, sometimes ponies got suspicious, so I had to conjure up a wife or heir to maintain the legitimacy of my house.” “And this mansion was just another way for you to create the impression that you were part of a noble family and not just one pony,” Beryl said, and the Black Briar nodded, “What I don’t understand is why it’s an orphanage now, though. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” “Mortals are so short-sighted,” the pitch-black stallion grumbled, “This whole area of Canterlot used to be beautiful parks and manor-houses. Now it’s all shopping malls and restaurants and hotels. That’s why I donated this house to the cause of raising orphans two centuries ago. Convincing a noble to move into a larger estate is easy to do, tearing down an orphanage and throwing parentless foals out into the cold is not.” It certainly made sense, as did everything the Black Briar had told her. He was obviously an expert in his field, but that didn’t mean she trusted him yet. Independent monster hunters were severely discouraged by the Ministry, mainly because they tended to do more harm than good, or to spread panic by speaking the truth about the nightmares waiting in the dark. This stallion seemed different though, and he claimed to have once been a member of the Ministry—though his story of being a founder certainly didn’t agree with official Ministry history or the Legend of the Seven Knights of Dawn. “So, gargoyles,” Beryl began to pose the question that had led her to meet this stallion in the first place, “There was nothing in the Ministry’s Bestiary; every file had been removed. What are they?” “Some of the nastier creatures in this universe,” the Black Briar answered, “A gargoyle is, in reality, an extremely powerful and malicious spirit. However, in this form they are unable to physically interact with the world. The only way they can achieve physical form is if a very specific vessel for them is crafted out of stone; a statue looking exactly like what you saw last night. A mortal creates the vessel, and then the gargoyle inhabits it and can bring it to life during the night, transforming it from dead stone to living flesh.” “Gargoyles have an insatiable appetite for pony life. That is, the possibility that is an equine’s life. That is why each victim they claimed was a young adult. They have grown to an appropriate size that the gargoyle is able to harvest them, but they still have so much life ahead of them. The gargoyle, upon catching its prey, tears it open and sucks out the life of the victim; it is fed by all the years that could have been.” “Okay,” Beryl said, “I think I understand now why you needed my help. You said you fear there are more gargoyles still out there. With the Ministry’s resources at my disposal, I can find the statues and destroy them.” “No,” the Black Briar said, cutting Beryl off with a wave of his hoof, “You must not shatter a gargoyle’s statue. The only time they are vulnerable is when they take on physical form at night to hunt.” “But how can they take physical form if their statue is destroyed?” “A gargoyle’s statue allows it to pass into the physical realm,” the stallion explained, “If that statue is shattered, the gargoyle is freed from its vessel, and is able to manifest in its true form in this world. If that happens, it is nearly impossible to kill it. You would be facing a monster with nearly infinite power and the intent to drain the life of everypony in the world. Whatever you do, do not allow a gargoyle’s statue to be broken.” “However, you were partially correct,” he continued, “Tracking down the gargoyles on my own isn’t impossible, but it would take time; time that I sadly don’t have. Who knows how many ponies would fall prey to these monsters before I can kill them. It’s not like gargoyle statues can be created easily, and they must be positioned in a prominent place before a gargoyle could enter them. Look for new buildings or statues that were recently added to buildings. That’s all the time I have to talk right now. Night will have fallen by now and . . .” The Black Briar’s ears twitched and his nostrils flared as he stopped talking. “No; it can’t be. Did you break the line across the doorway?” he asked Beryl frantically. “What are you talking about?” she asked, worried what had caused the stallion such alarm. “Do they not even teach you about protective barriers in the Ministry anymore?” he asked angrily as he hopped over a couch. Beryl felt a sudden pressure in her head, and the room heated up rapidly. A burst of light flashed at the doorway she had earlier come in through, and the pressure and heat decreased. When she looked up, a gargoyle was standing at the door, baring its long pointed teeth. On instinct, she drew her crossbow and quickly slotted a bolt into place. “Get back!” the Black Briar ordered as he smashed one of his display cases and pulled out the sword within, “Your crossbow won’t hurt it!” Still, she had to try, and fired a bolt directly at its head. The gargoyle swatted it aside with a massive claw, but Beryl already had another ready, this time an incendiary. The gargoyle had no chance of blocking it, and the bolt struck it between the eyes, fire expanding out from where it impacted to engulf the monster’s head. It didn’t take long, however, before the fire went out, leaving only trails of smoke behind. The gargoyle appeared to be completely unharmed, and Beryl holstered her crossbow, conjuring up a sword of pure magic to take its place. She took a few slashes at the beast, missing, but also managing to dodge its claws. Finally she got a swipe in and sliced through the tough flesh of its forearm. Steam boiled out from the wound and the gargoyle shrieked, the ear-splitting squeal causing Beryl to lose her concentration, her magical sword disappearing. The Black Briar charged toward the gargoyle, a sword in his teeth that appeared to be made of pure sapphire. A trail of shimmering lights followed the blade as he threw it through the air at the gargoyle. The monster reached out to swat the sword away, but it impacted point first into the palm of its claw, sinking up to the hilt. Fracturing lines of blue light spread up the gargoyle’s arm, glowing violently. In a flash, the gargoyle vanished and the sword clattered to the floor. “Another one,” Beryl said, staring at where the monster had been a moment earlier, “Is it dead?” “Hardly,” the Black Briar said as he grabbed a bag by the door and began to pour the sandy contents out into a line across the doorway, “I merely banished it from the area. I couldn’t risk trying to kill it; not here.” “Why not?” Beryl asked, “Now it’s free out there.” “Well, for one thing, it could have ill effects on the orphans sleeping above our heads,” the stallion replied, “And there are other reasons I can’t trust you with yet.” “We can’t let it get away,” Beryl insisted, “I won’t let it take another victim.” “Of course not, but after the strikes we got in on it, it’s in no condition to hunt yet tonight,” the Black Briar said as he trotted toward the door he’d come in through, “It’s most likely limping back home, which means we can track it to the nest.” “You planned this?” Beryl asked as the Black Briar disappeared through the doorway. “Yes, though I didn’t plan for it to show up here,” he said as he reemerged dressed in the full uniform he’d been wearing the night before, “Does the Ministry no longer emphasize the importance of guarding weak points, such as doors and windows?” “They do, but I had no idea that . . . dust was a ward,” Beryl said, and joined the Black Briar as he motioned for her to follow him through a different door, “What was that stuff?” “A mixture designed to keep evil creatures from passing, or from using magic to cross. There are many ingredients, including salt and the sands of Atmora. The gargoyle must have followed your trail and used the weak spot to teleport in from outside Rosethorn Hall’s grounds.” While they’d been talking, the Black Briar had led them to a wall with a simple stone archway filled with bare earth. Runes were carved into the stones of the archway and they began to glow as the Black Briar placed his hooves on them. When he had finished, the earth shifted and shimmered, appearing more mist-like than solid. He stepped directly into the earth, and Beryl followed. The soil seemed to flow, pushing them on a course through the ground, and eventually up to where Beryl had seen the stallion emerge in the yard the night before. “Passeaux,” the Black Briar whispered as he reached the towering stone wall behind the property, and stepped right through. Hesitant, Beryl followed, and found it was like walking through nothing at all. “Excellent; the trail’s still fresh, and it’s wounded, which should make this easier,” the Black Briar said as he surveyed the empty street. Using her magic, Beryl picked up the trail as well. But the Black Briar was an earth pony. How had he sensed the monster’s trail? “I can sense magic,” he answered when she asked him, “Part of the package that came with my immortality.” That’s right. In the excitement, she had forgotten how unbelievably ancient this stallion had claimed to be. Was he even a pony anymore? She wasn’t sure, and would have to be careful. Just because he seemed to be a good pony and excellent monster hunter didn’t change the fact that he was a rogue agent and a monster in his own right. More than likely, she would need to turn him in to the Ministry when this business was over, but for now she needed him to help hunt down the gargoyles, so she would have to stay on good terms with him at the present. The two of them took off through the silent streets of late night Canterlot, following the path the gargoyle had taken as it fled Rosethorn Hall. The magical trail faded for more quickly than it should have, and the Black Briar explained that as a mechanism to avoid detection a gargoyle could shed its magical power, leaving it vulnerable but also throwing off anything following its trail. The trail eventually disappeared entirely as they neared Sorcery Street, the magic trail overwhelmed by the magic given off by the various magic shops that filled the area. “They’re clever; I’ll give them that. It knew it could lose us here,” the Black Briar grumbled as he watched ponies milling about on Sorcery Street from the shadows, “Still, it must have been desperate to pass by so close to ponies, especially ones with magical ability. Its nest must be near here.” “I’m returning to Rosethorn Hall,” he announced as he turned to face Beryl, “I need you to find out where the nest is and let me know. I’ll take things from there.” “No way,” Beryl objected, causing the Black Briar to halt as he walked away, “This is a Ministry investigation, and a Ministry agent needs to be there.” “Very well,” the Black Briar snorted, “But let me know in either case. I doubt today’s Ministry could handle a threat like this on their own.” Beryl watched as the stallion disappeared into the shadows. *** The next day she returned to the Ministry, keeping an eye on the time. She had to find where these gargoyles were coming from before nightfall; lives were counting on it. She began by checking the recent surveys of magical energy in the area of Canterlot where they had lost the trail the night before. Problem was, Sorcery Street ran right through the middle of it, and made it hard to tell if any fluctuations in magical energy were the result of something sinister or a new shipment of enchanted items. Next, she checked all the reports that the Ministry had made regarding the area in the past few months, but nothing related to the gargoyles had been reported. Not that she was surprised, since she had never even heard of gargoyles as actual living, breathing monsters before the Black Briar had told her about them. No doubt the agents who’d done the reports hadn’t known what to look for either. Having exhausted her options at the Ministry, she headed over to the Canterlot Public Records Office. Manually, she went through every edition of each of Canterlot’s three newspapers, working back in time. Finally, she struck gold. About a month earlier, the Canterlot Courier had published an article on a new skyscraper that was nearing completion in the area Beryl was searching. It even had a photo of a worker placing the final touches on the spire. In the corner of the picture, she caught a glimpse of a gargoyle statue. Doing some digging through the archives, she found another picture of the tower, and this time she could make out gargoyles positioned at the top of the tower facing each of the cardinal directions. After making a trip out to see the skyscraper in person, and spotting that now only two gargoyles remained, Beryl brought the news to the Black Briar. The gargoyles couldn’t be killed until nightfall, so he told her to meet him at the skyscraper then. While she waited, Beryl got her gear together in preparation for the fight. Her crossbow hadn’t done much good the night before, but with the right rounds it could still be used to create a distraction that would let the Black Briar take down the gargoyle with that sword of his. She also packed some powerful potions that she hoped would have some effect on the gargoyles. By the time Celestia’s sun dipped toward the horizon, she was ready for a fight. She arrived at the skyscraper as the last rays of sunlight vanished, and the Black Briar appeared from the shadows to meet her. Drawing out a set of high-powered binoculars, Beryl kept watch on the gargoyles above, waiting for them to stir. As the night hours dragged on, and the moon rose over Canterlot Mountain, the nearer gargoyle finally began to twitch. With a last jerk, it broke free of its stone for the night, shedding it like a scaly layer of skin. The creature looked around for a moment, searching for prey, until it caught wind of the ponies that had wounded it the night before. Growling, the gargoyle began to descend down the side of the building, leaping from the wall shortly before it reached the ground. The Black Briar let loose with a flurry of spikes, and Beryl blasted it with a spell that successfully caused its wings to stiffen up. The gargoyle fell from the sky, but quickly recovered, and swung its tail around at the Black Briar’s head. The stallion ducked down, drawing potions from his bandoliers as he did so. The phials rolled across the ground until they reached the gargoyle’s claws and burst open, coating the monster’s feet in sticky green goo that quickly hardened. “Daybreak, to me!” the Black Briar shouted, and his massive sword appeared before him. The gargoyle screeched in reply, the sound waves slamming into the Black Briar and Beryl. Neither flinched away from the attack, though the Black Briar’s duster flapped in the wind generated. Beryl had had the foresight to cast a spell to protect her hearing before heading out, and she assumed the Black Briar had either done something similar or was immune due to his immortality. He rushed forward when the sound ended and dodged the gargoyle’s claws as it swiped at him. His giant sword came up and down twice, slicing clean through the gargoyle’s arms and leaving it with only stumps. The monster was unable to stop him as he stabbed the blade clean through its heart. “An el nomine ai mi maestro Sithis, Ei transposi de en a eterne justicium!” the Black Briar incanted, and this gargoyle turned to dust like its two fellows. “Daybreak, be gone,” he said when the dust settled, and his sword disappeared. “What’s the status on the other one?” the Black Briar asked, turning to Beryl. “It’s still,” she said, her binoculars already raised to her eyes, “No, wait; it’s moving.” The Black Briar frowned as he stared up at the last remaining statue. Raising a hoof to his face, he pulled his sunglasses down his nose, exposing his eyes. Beryl lost her concentration as she spotted the glowing red orbs swirling with fire. If there was any doubt in her mind before that the Black Briar might not be a pony anymore, it was gone now. There was no pony that had such demonic eyes. They grew wide as he stared at the top of the building. “No!” he exclaimed just before the statue of the gargoyle toppled from the roof. It seemed to fall in slow motion as it plummeted from the skyscraper’s peak. The statue hit the ground with a sickening crunch, shattering to pieces. Beryl suddenly felt a dark presence pressing against her mind and magic as the shattered gargoyle statue began to glow. Beams of purplish light arced up into the sky, finally congealing into a single, massive figure. It looked very much like the gargoyles that had attacked earlier, except that it was many times their size, its wings stretching out to touch the buildings on either side of the street. The creature seemed to have no physical form, but was rather composed of a constantly shifting mass of energy resembling the night sky, complete with winking stars and spinning galaxies. “Behold, the gargoyle’s true form,” the Black Briar said. The gargoyle let out a roar, directing all of its energy at the Black Briar and Beryl. The street around them shattered and crumbled, and they were thrown backward, the Black Briar’s hood whipping back away from his head. “What do we do?” Beryl demanded. “There’s no stopping it now. Look, you can see it draining the life from its surroundings,” the dark stallion said as trails of energy began to stream toward the gargoyle’s gaping maw, “We have to trap it before it consumes all of Canterlot.” “I brought these just in case,” he continued, pulling boxes of crystal edged with silver from his bandoliers, “But this gargoyle is far stronger than I expected it to be. I need you to do something.” “Anything,” Beryl replied quickly, watching as the gargoyle pulsed and grew as it drained the life from its surroundings, including herself and the Black Briar. “You know teleportation magic?” “Yes!” “Can you do it with fetishes?” the Black Briar asked, producing two runed stones. “Yes, I can!” Beryl answered, glad that she had taken the time to perfect the art. It was an obscure branch of teleportation magic, but incredibly useful. Ordinary teleportation was hard enough, and it was severely limited by the magical ability of the pony using it. It could only be performed if the caster had a crystal-clear image of their target in their mind, and then was further limited by the fact that the magical energy required increased geometrically as distance to the target increased. Using magical fetishes was a shortcut that allowed a magic-user to travel easily to any predetermined point. A rune was inscribed on a stone at the location one wished to travel to along with a powerful spell that bound the stone to the location. A caster could then use the fetish to instantly travel to the point it was bound to, without needing a clear image. It was incredibly useful, but rarely used because it required a unicorn with highly advanced magical abilities to use. “This one will take you to my rooms beneath Rosethorn Hall,” the Black Briar explained, passing one of the fetishes to her, “This will return you to me. I need you to get the model of Canterlot as fast as you can.” “I’m on it,” Beryl said, and teleported away. The Black Briar turned to face the massive gargoyle, only growing larger from the energy it was consuming. Thankfully nopony was in this immediate area at this time of night, but Sorcery Street was only a few blocks away, and was no doubt where the bulk of the energy was coming from. Mumbling an incantation under his breath, the stallion cut off the stream between himself and the gargoyle merely to keep his stamina from being drained; after all, he couldn’t die. Finding an optimal position, he set one of the crystal cubes on the pavement. With a quick incantation, he activated the star tether, and a massive golden chain burst forth in a blast of light. The cruelly barbed hook at the end of chain pulled itself through the air, seeking out its target. The gargoyle was unaware of the tether’s existence until the hook smashed into its shoulder, sinking in and holding. It gave a roar and tried to yank free, but it was no use; not even it had the power to dislodge a star tether so quickly. While it wasted time trying to dislodge itself, the Black Briar snuck around behind the beast and deployed another star tether, this one smashing into the small of the monster’s back. The gargoyle swung its tail around, the starry appendage smashing through buildings, tearing up the street, and toppling streetlamps. The Black Briar dodged as best he could, but it was difficult to get out of the way of such a huge weapon, and he was forced to summon Daybreak. He held the sword in front of him, using it to block the tail as it tried to plow into him. Sparks flew from where the sword and tail met, shooting stars arcing out in all directions, but neither side was able to get the upper hoof. The gargoyle raised its tail up into the air, preparing to flatten the Black Briar. As it brought it down, the stallion deployed another sky tether, this one snagging the beast’s tail and pulling it off course. The Black Briar put Daybreak away and galloped under the gargoyle, dropping slips of paper as he went. Once he was a safe distance away, he spoke an incantation that caused the sigils pre-drawn on the papers to activate, sending flame and lightning rocketing up into the gargoyle’s underside. Unfortunately, the creature didn’t fall for the distraction, and swung a bulging arm around at the Black Briar, otherworldly claws gouging ruts in the road. Before the claw could reach him, the stallion deployed the final sky tether, its hook slamming into the gargoyle’s arm. Now that all four tethers were deployed, the runes covering the chains began to glow, binding the beast and holding it in place. It struggled against the chains, but they began to retract, pulling ever tighter. The gargoyle roared and pulled harder, and one of the crystal boxes shifted a hair, coming loose from the immense power pulling at it. In a flash of light, Beryl returned with the crystal ball Canterlot. “Where do you need this?” she asked, before staring in awe at the bound beast before her. “Keep levitating it right where you are,” the stallion replied after casting the spell that would stop the gargoyle from draining Beryl’s life. From one of his bandoliers, the Black Briar produced a marker and began to draw glowing runes on the crystal ball. After he finished, he began to touch them in sequence, chanting a spell as he did so and causing the runes to appear in the sky over Canterlot. As he finished, a magic circle appeared over the crystal ball and over the gargoyle. Swiftly, he thrust his hoof into the circle and took control of the magic. Lightning rained down from the heavens, striking the gargoyle and causing its starry flesh to glow and crack. It began to shrink in size, but the star tether chains remained taut, adjusting as their prisoner was compressed. In a final whirlwind of light and magic, the gargoyle disappeared and the star tethers retracted back into their crystal boxes. The Black Briar breathed a sigh of relief as the dust settled. “So, is that it?” Beryl asked, “Is it dead?” “Sadly, no,” the Black Briar said, trotting over to where the gargoyle had been, “It cannot be killed by any method in this world, only contained.” He pried up the chunk of stone the gargoyle had been standing over, revealing to Beryl that a magical rune was now imprinted on it. “This is the gargoyle’s prison,” he said, “And now it is my duty to watch over it until it can be destroyed.” Beryl set down the model of Canterlot and trotted over to sit next to the Black Briar. Both ponies enjoyed a moment of silence now that the madness was over. “It’s going to be difficult to explain all this damage,” Beryl said, looking around at the destruction caused by the battle. “I’m sure it’s nothing your Ministry can’t handle,” the Black Briar said, before looking up at the mare next to him, “You’re a good agent. If your Ministry can produce a pony of your skill, I guess it must not be all bad. Still, if you want to become better, come to me and I will train you.” Beryl was torn; technically the Black Briar was a rogue agent that had to be turned in to the Ministry. Still, he had just saved Canterlot using techniques she’d never learned at the Ministry. She decided that she’d need to know more about him before she could fully trust him, but for now she let her heart decide. “Of course,” she replied. “By the way, I never got your name,” the stallion said. “It’s Agent Beryl Fields, but some ponies call me Berry,” she replied. “Berry,” he said contemplatively, “You seem like a trustworthy pony, and if we’ll be working together we should start out our relationship with some honesty. My name—my true name—is Shadowmere.” *** Within Canterlot Castle, there is a tower that nopony has set hoof in since its construction. Its official name is the Moon Tower, but the castle staff has taken to calling it the Empty Tower. If anypony were to explore the Empty Tower, they would find that it is most unlike the rest of Canterlot Castle. Instead of the white and gold celebrating the power of the sun, the Empty Tower is decorated with blacks and blues, and the walls and ceilings are covered with constellations of the night sky. Ringing the tower’s spire there are many statues, originally carved nearly a millennium earlier in the likenesses of ponies, dragons, and monsters. However, two of the statues on this particular night were not as they seemed. “The gargoyles failed,” one shadowy figure, a pony with bat wings whispered out into the night, “What’s more, the Ministry and the Deathwalker have become involved.” “Did one obtain true form?” the other, a figure with almost identical features, asked. “Yes, but the Deathwalker managed to trap it.” “Excellent; everything is going according to plan.” “The pieces are falling into place,” the second figure continued, tilting its head to stare up at the moon, “The time of Her return will soon be upon us; we must be ready to act when the stars align.” “Of course,” the first figure answered. The two bat-ponies stayed, unmoving, for several hours, until they flew off into the night in different directions. Nopony saw them depart from the Moon Tower; after all, nopony lived there, so what would there be to see should one look up? The pony those chambers had been built for had been gone for nearly one thousand years.