//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Bricks // by ThePower //------------------------------// I do not “freak out” on a regular basis, even though it seems like I do within the confines of these pages. Before I was swept up in this whole apocalyptic mess, I did relatively normal things. I’d have a few drinks with Stacks over at Pasty’s bar whenever I felt like my liver could take it, or I’d enjoy a quiet night at home, reading a book by candlelight. Sometimes I’d head out into the fields outside of Ponyville and stargaze from one of the gentle, rolling hills where a lonely shepherd might take his flock during the day. I can relate to shepherds. I too am alone, tending to a flock that cannot speak to me the way I can speak to them. The stars are sheep, moreover they are my sheep. I may not be able to guide them, nurture them, and protect them the way a real shepherd might, but they are my responsibility regardless. Few other ponies ever receive cutie marks related to the stars. Those who do often choose to enter fields that make full use of their talents without forcing them to work in the celestial hemisphere above. These ponies believe that Equestria has no need for astronomers or astrophysicists or cosmologists because the goddesses who rule over us have control it already. Why learn something that only a deity can control? I have no problem with these ponies, though I do find myself yearning for a community of colleagues to share my findings with. I have beef with those who sell out and become astrologists. Astrology is a stupid, useless field that can hardly be called science. Those who believe in astrology, or even believe that it can be used for anything, are equally as stupid and as useless. I don’t see how anyone can believe that the stars allow one to divine one’s cutie mark or tell one’s personality. Stacks believes in astrology, but only ironically. At least, that’s what I assume. He’s never showed an interest in astrology until I told him how much I despised it. Stacks enjoys watching me “flip my shit”. Apparently I’m funny when I’m bugging out, especially when its for no reason. But I’m not so sure he enjoyed my bugging out in his particular instance. Stacks and I had nodded off sometime during the night. I awoke just a few hours later, shrieking so loudly that it sent Stacks tumbling over in fright. “Dude!” I blinked. “Wha?” “That was totally uncool bro,” he said, huffing and puffing as he lifted himself from the floor. I’d actually scared him half to death without even trying. I was too scared myself to feel any pride in the accomplishment. “Jeez, I’m sorry Stacks. I was just having a nightmare, I think.” “Well don’t cry about it, Sunny.” “I’m not crying you ass. I’m being remorseful.” “Coulda fooled me.” I held my tongue. There really was no winning with this guy. I went for Twilight’s closet to see if she had an extra cot or two, only to stop short when Spike moaned something incoherent. It looked like he was stirring from his cold-induced slumber. “Thirsty,” he moaned again, his words a lot clearer this time around. “What’d he say?” “He’s thirsty, Stacks. Pour him some of that tea.” “Uh, there’s just a slight problem with that,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. I swiveled around to meet his gaze. “You didn’t.” “I did.” “Stacks, you dolt! That tea was for Spike.” He reeled back, taking actual offence at my words. “Hey, I was thirsty first! And I made the damn tea in the first place.” I couldn’t believe that he was trying to justify his tea-greed. I skipped the inevitable lecture on common courtesy in favor of just yelling at him. “For Celestia’s sake, get him a glass of water, Stacks!” “... I don’t know about you, but my momma taught me to say please when asking people to do things.” he huffed. Stacks threw his hooves over the railing, landing on the pile of books below with a muffled thump. I wanted to say something to him, preferably something about his raging stupidity, but I couldn’t. I was exhausted. I hadn’t eaten in a while, and the little sleep I had gotten had been interrupted by a terrible nightmare; one that I didn’t want to revisit any time soon. “Sunny?” I turned around. Spike, lost and disoriented, was trying to untangle himself from the sheets I’d so carefully wrapped around him. “Yeah, just relax, ” I said, gently pushing him back into the bed, “You need to rest up kid. You need to give your body a chance to heat up and rest, especially since you’re cold-blooded and all.” “I feel so numb.” “Everything’s gonna be alright, Spike. Just relax and wait for Stacks to bring you some water. Stacks! Where’s that water?” I heard him curse. A window shattered, something alien squealed. The sound of a struggle carried over the sound my hooves clopping loudly against the staircase. By the time I’d gotten to the kitchen, it was all over. Stacks had already wrestled the lone pegasus imp to the ground. One of its wings had been injured when it presumably smashed through the window, but that didn’t stop it from trying to escape. An owl perched itself on the window sill, watching us with a sort of wizened curiosity that I found charming almost instantly. Stacks’ expression, in contrast, was grim and intensely focused. Despite his size and strength, the imp refused to stop resisting, even for a moment. “Ask that thing where it came from.” “Who?” the owl added. “Not who, little owl, but where.” I addressed the imp again, questioning it in a calm, even voice. “Where did you come from?” I was unprepared for the snorts and giggles that escaped its toothless maw. By the looks of him, even Stacks must have been caught off guard. The imp pressed this opening by resuming its frantic bucking, but Stacks forced it back down with a grunt. “I don’t think this thing can talk.” “You’re probably right, Stacks. Still, good try?” “Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. ”Should I... you know?” “No. Let it go.” “You sure? I can end this thing right now, won’t even take me more than a second.” “Nah, man. Just let it go. We’re not from the Everfree Forest, so lets not act like we are.” By acting, I meant commiting random acts of “Tch, whatever.” he grabbed it across its midsection and manhandled it. The imp scampered off, giggling and yelping even after it had disappeared from view. “Now what?” “First things first, we can’t stay here a minute longer than we already have. That imp came back, and I’m pretty sure that it’s going to have friends next time we see it. Second, we need to figure out where Twilight is. Third, we’ve gotta head to Canterlot. Ponyville’s shown that it’s not a safe place to be right now, so our best bet is to get Princess Celestia’s protection.” “Ugh, do we have to?” “Yes, Stacks, we do. I’m not willing to bet on your strength and my eyes to keep us safe from harm when we don’t even know anything about the ponies coming after us. We need protection.” “If that’s what’s gonna keep you sleeping at night, then fine. But that princess of yours had better not expect me to bend over every time she crosses the hall. I’m not going to degrade myself like that. I’ve got standards.” “Dude, stop kidding around. This is serious.” “What? Do you think my standards are some kinda sick joke to you?” “Yes, but that’s not the point. We seriously need to get out of here. Doctor Redheart can take care of Spike while we head for Canterlot.” I left the kitchen at a brisk trot and walked back up the stairs. Stacks followed, but at a more relaxed pace. There was no rush, really. I was just worried about Spike. “Oh man, definitely. But, uh, what should we do about Twilight? Isn’t she still missing?” “I’ve been thinking about that, actually. I don’t know if we can help her. If we stay here, we’re dead, and we’re no good to anypony dead. Our best bet is to get to Canterlot and tell Celestia everything we know so she can send the guards after Twilight.” “No!” Spike tried to lift himself, visibly straining every muscle he could actively control. All he managed to do was roll himself out of bed. He crashed to the floor with nothing more than a thud. “Dammit Spike, you have to rest until you’re better.” “Not them! You can’t.” he begged. “I can’t what?” “You can’t tell them.” I didn’t know what to say at first. Was he talking about the ponies coming after Stacks and me? He couldn’t have known. “Tell who?” He licked his dry, cracked lips, but they did not moisten. “Water?” he croaked. Stacks was already halfway downstairs when I turned to ask him about getting Spike a glass of water. ___________________________ We left Twilight’s house a few minutes later, eager to get somewhere safe. Spike was sitting comfortably on Stacks’ back while he recounted everything that had happened before we came to the library. Spike had awoken to the sound of somepony rapping their hooves against the door. There had been a squad of guards outside, waiting for Twilight to open it up. As she approached the door, her horn was enveloped in harmless, yet foreboding black flames. Ordinary unicorns aren’t usually taught the relatively simple spell that allows one to detect dark magic, but Twilight is no ordinary unicorn. She’s the Princess’ apprentice, after all. As with all spells, however, it must be invoked. Spike made it sound like it was some sort of automatic reaction. There is a precedent of spells activating by themselves, like that time Stacks joined the crowd of ponies trying to get Twilight’s extra ticket to the Grand Galloping Gala. Twilight later told me that she’d escaped the mob of ponies when her magic whisked her away with a fortuitous teleportation spell, all because she’d wished that she was someplace else and not being mauled to death by a crowd of ticket-hungry ponies. It made sense that she’d be able to “sense” the presence of dark magic at work. The guards remained outside, demanding that she open her door, but Twilight didn’t move. Then monsters, the imps that Stacks and I had fought, smashed through the door and poured in through the windows, wreaking all kinds of havoc in Twilight’s library. The imps locked Spike in the fridge while the guards dragged her outside. The last thing Spike remembered hearing was a screech, some laughing, then the sound of even more glass being shattered. There was something wrong with his story though. The imps weren’t subtle or quiet by any means. Twilight’s neighbors had to have heard the imps destroying everything in sight. And yet, they didn’t do a thing to help her. Flower Wishes’ death came to mind almost immediately. Talking with Stacks about her became more of a priority now. As Spike finished his story, Stacks’ frustration finally “This entire thing is now officially insane. Like, certifiably. Legitimately, even.” “But its true! All of it is,” Spike protested. He looked to me for support. It was hard to deny him when he was staring me down with those big, emerald eyes. . “Well, Stacks, it’s certainly plausible. And given the trend of-” “Aw, Sunny, don’t feed me that load of manure. I know exactly how plausible the story is.” “Then what’s the problem?” “This conspiracy is insane.” “What’s so insane about having members of the royal guard kidnap Twilight? I mean, we didn’t originally know how far up this thing went, and now we do. If the royal guard are involved, then it goes far enough that we should be afraid. Very afraid. ” “I know. That’s what I meant. Like, how are we supposed to go up against the guards anyway? There are literally hundreds of guard ponies and only two of us. And that’s without even counting the imps.” “So you admit they’re imps then?” He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say. I smiled in success. “What? Imp got your tongue, bro?” “Probably. But in all seriousness, what are we supposed to do about all the chumps coming after us?” “I’m not sure yet. Let’s drop off Spike before we talk about it.” “Wait, I’m not coming with you guys?” “‘Fraid not, Spike. You’re not one-hundred percent yet, and Stacks and I can move faster on our own. Besides, I’m sure Twilight wouldn’t appreciate us putting you in danger.” “But, I thought we were gonna save Twilight together!” I shrugged. “Them’s the breaks, kid.” It only took us a few minutes to get to Doctor Redheart’s place, minutes that Spike spent trying to convince me to let him come with us. Stacks knocked on her door while I waited at a bench some distance away. Redheart appeared at the entrance of her home just a few moments later looking very annoyed with him, most likely because he’d shown up at her house in the middle of the night holding a dragon and wearing one of the smarmiest looking grins I’d ever seen. Stacks wasted no time diving right into an explanation which sounded like what was surely the biggest pile of horseshit ever. I expected the doctor to wail on him, but she didn’t. Instead, she allowed him to enter her home. Stacks didn’t even leave until twenty minutes later. His stupid-looking grin was still there, edges stretching from ear to ear. He looked genuinely happy. “The Hell happened to you?” I asked. He shrugged. “I just had an amazing conversation with an equally amazing mare.” “... Was it a conversation, or a ‘conversation’?” I used my hooves to make air quotes. He frowned at my insinuation. “No, dude, we just talked.” “Just talked?” “Yes. Just talked.” “I gotta say Stacks, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you could talk to a mare without acting like some kind of rampant douche.” “Well, even if I was a douche, which I’m not, at least I can talk to chicks without almost getting murdered. Also, when was the last time you got laid, Sunny? Right, never. I forgot.” “Whatever bro. Lets just get moving.” “Alright, but where to?” “My place. I need to have a little chat with the mayor ” ________________ I was surprised when we managed to get to the mound of debris that was home without going another round with the imps. A sense of foreboding permeated the air, so much so that I could taste it when I licked my lips. It tasted like cheese. Something was bound to happen to us. After all, we were pushing the boundaries of our “luck” by coming to meet the mayor. Stacks opened up the cellar doors while I focused on making my eyes glow brighter. I led the way inside, my eyes lighting up the path ahead like a pair of flashlights. My wine cellar is grand, definitely the largest in Ponyville and eclipsed only by the collections that the gentry in Canterlot own. When my father drew up the plans for the house, he made sure to include the construction of the cellar for two reasons. One, was a wine connoisseur and enjoyed opening a bottle whenever he was in the company of good friends. Two, he built it to act as a safe-room should anything particularly disastrous occur in Ponyville. The heavy cellar doors could be bolted shut from the inside, and a pair of thick glass doors could be sealed off to protect the collection from fires, floods, and anything in between. The glass doors had automatically sealed themselves when the house exploded, and I hadn’t bothered to unseal them with the appropriate spell when I brought the mayor down here. And yet, here I was, looking through the open doors at my sizable wine collection. “...How?” “How what?” “The doors can only be opened by the one who enchanted them in the first place. I had the doors automatically seal themselves. They should have only opened when I commanded them to. The mayor shouldn’t have been able to open them.” “Well, they’re open. We might as well go in and ask her.” It didn’t take us very long to find her. She was sitting on the floor, a wine bottle cradled in her arms like a baby. She whispered endless sweet nothings to the dark-tinted bottle as we approached, taking time to nuzzle its neck and plant gentle kisses across its body. I looked on, speechless. Stacks managed to ask what I couldn’t. “Uh, mayor? Are you... feeling okay?” She lifted the bottle to her mouth and chugged down what remained inside. “Mmm... 987 C.R. A good year.” “Yeah. She’s fine,” I said, relieved that the mayor hadn’t fallen off the deep end. “I was actualy hoping that you could answer some questions.” “You knocked me out, then locked me down here with no food or water.” I cringed. “You’re making out to be a lot worse than what it is.” “Not really.” “Yeah, Sunny. You did knock her flat on her back with that punch.” “You’re not helping Stacks.” “Enough. Ask your questions, then let me go.” A fair trade. She’d give me information in exchange for her freedom. It was a win-win situation. “Sounds good.” She stared pointedly at Stacks. “Oh, right. Stacks. Can you wait outside for a minute? ” “Really?” “Yeah bro. Sorry.” He left the cellar without much fuss, thought it was obvious that he felt hurt. I consoled myself with the fact that the things I’d learn were worth the damage to his pride. “Alright mayor, first question: Why don’t you want Stacks here?” “That’s a stupid first question Sun Spot. The reason why I don’t want him here is because he’s a skeptic and you’re a believer. I don’t need to hear him stating the obvious every two seconds like the obnoxious foal he is. A mare can only take so much before she loses it.” “Uh, okay. Next question: Melding, what is it?” “Now that, is a good question.” She drawled, rubbing the empty wine bottle in her hooves affectionately. “If you must know, Melding is the process by which one spirit fuses with another.” “Sort of like possession, right?” “Not quite. Possession is where one spirit seizes control of a body by overpowering the spirit already present within. Melding is entirely voluntary.” “The mayor chose to Meld?” “In one of her many alcohol-induced stupors, yes. She was miserable. Her job demanded much of her time. The duties that came with her position, they drove her to drink. She dreamed of returning to her youth, of going back to a time not consumed by the stress that came from her work. The Other promised her this. She was asked by The Other to signal her agreement by sealing away something dear to her while chanting something in The Other’s tongue.” “What’d she seal?” “I wouldn’t know. Most mortals choose to seal away their possession of choice by burying it, locking it in a safe, or throwing it into the sea. After the melding process, you ‘conveniently’ forget how, where, and what you sealed. The Others usually do that to prevent their Melds from breaking apart again.” “So if I find what the mayor sealed away I could split her and whoever The Other is from each other.” She nodded. “Yes. All it is one look at the item in question for the process to reverse itself completely. Of course, no one is the same after a Meld. Some things are left behind, others are replaced. ” I kept that in mind. Turning Mayor Mare and Rarity back to normal was on my growing “Save The World” to-do list. The challenge was in finding the items that they had sealed, then hoping that they came back to us relatively normal and not murderous in any way. A pony could dream. “I’ve a few more questions, mayor. I sort of ‘found’ a postcard addressed to you after you uh... took a nap. It was from a pony named Ursa over in Trottingham. It said, ‘Here’s to all your problems bleeding away.’, or something along those lines. A few hours after I took the postcard, I looked up into the sky and the constellation Ursa Minor was gone. I’ve got a feeling you know what happened to it.” “I didn’t hear a question anywhere in there.” “Do you know what happened to that constellation?” “I’m surprised you don’t. You of all ponies should know what Ursas are.” “You mean the bear-like creatures that live in the Everfree Forest? Of course I know what they are. What astronomer doesn’t know about the Star-crafters?” I asked rhetorically. Star-Crafters is a name for Ursas that few ponies The first discovery of the Star-Crafters came before my time by an astronomer and cosmologist far greater than I. Her name was Midnight Berry, though she let me call her Midberry whenever I visited her in... Trottingham. “Midnight Berry, is she-” “Gone? Dead? In significant danger? No, but she may be if my peers have anything to say about it.” It was a simple answer, but it didn’t feel so simple to me at the time. Midnight Berry was my friend, my mentor. She had, along with my father and Stacks, actively shaped me to be the pony that I am today. She was the mother that I never got to have. The mayor seemed like she didn’t care. “How can you say that like its nothing out of the ordinary? This is a living breathing pony we’re talking about here.” “I can precisely because its nothing out of the ordinary for me, Sun Spot. What surprises me is that you think I enjoy this. I find no pleasure in dividing my time between balancing the town checkbook and plotting the deaths of the relatively innocent.” “Relatively?” She looked at me as though it was obvious. “There are no innocents. Just varying degrees of guilt. And though you’re no saint, Sun Spot, I didn’t want to kill you.” “Then why’d you blow up my house?” “Because I had to. The Other left me with a need to carry my assigned task through to its bitter and bloody end. I couldn’t help myself. The urge to kill you is hard to resist, and it gets harder every time I see you. That, and I was told that if I didn’t kill you, my life would be considered forfeit.” “By who?” Sheepish? Was that Mayor Meryl Mare acting sheepish? “I’d rather not say. Its probably for the best if you figure that out by yourself.” She was giving me the benefit of a doubt. Did I really want to find out who or why? Absolutely. “I’m going to find out anyway. You might as well tell me.” “No.” “Why?” “Because.” “That’s lame.” “No, that’s life. You’d do well to remember that.” The mayor adjusted her glasses with a yawn. She was tired. I guess I was tired too. “One last question, mayor. Where’s Twilight?” “Why, with the Ursas of course.”