Narcoblix: n. A mythical creature said to be able to take full motor control of any pony they have previously bitten whenever their victim is asleep. See also vampony, viviblix, TABLE: mythical creatures and their powers
Twilight sighed and shut the dictionary. The definition was nearly identical to the others she had found already, and it hadn't helped her much. Ever since one of Luna's Night Guard had mentioned narcoblixes being generally unfriendly, she had wanted to learn more about them, and that required research. She had previously thought they were just mythical creatures, and most of her sources seemed to agree with that sentiment. Either that, or they really were better hidden than anypony had thought. She was beginning to wonder if the noctral had been playing a little prank on her.
Still…
“Spike!” she called.
“Yeah?”
“I think I'm going up to the Canterlot library. You want to come with?”
Spike suppressed a grimace. He'd spent plenty of time there when he was younger, and had no real desire to walk its familiar halls again. “You go ahead. I'll… find something important to do here.” He smiled widely in what he hoped was a disarming smile.
“That's fine. Just don't burn the castle down while I'm gone,” she said.
“You kidding?” Spike said, knocking on a nearby wall. “This castle has grade A heat-dissipating crystalline structure all through it. Any heat gets spread through the whole structure before any damage happens. I've used my dragonfire on it and taken it up to five hundred degrees and you can't even tell that I… uh…” His eyes widened and his voice trailed off, and he put his claws innocently behind his back. “I mean… I have been nothing but safe and responsible here in the Friendship Castle.” He smiled disarmingly.
* * *
Twilight walked into the Library of Canterlot. She couldn't help but giggle like a filly half her age. It was good to be back in such a hallowed hall of learning!
Spike grumbled as he followed close behind. One little experiment, and Twilight acted like he had tried to release an eldritch abomination on the whole town.
Of course, knowing Twilight, she'd probably rather deal with an eldritch abomination than with damaged books.
Twilight trotted by the security guards, but then slowed to a stop. She paused and walked backwards until she was back in front of the posters demonstrating the current displays. As the Library of Canterlot was a repository library, they had massive collections of items stored underneath the mountain, and they rotated this stock often. This particular poster, emblazoned with a picture of a folded Night Guard uniform complete with tarnished brass badge, looked as though the artifacts it advertised would be most helpful.
She read it and looked over at the nearest security guard. “Does this mean you've got actual Night Guard memorabilia from before the time of Nightmare Moon?” she asked.
“Indeed we do,” he said proudly. “Night Guard equipment, weapons, uniforms, and other items from noctrali history. This month's special item is actually a mouth-written crime log from chief inspector Night Wing, one of the first captains of the Night Guard.”
Twilight clapped her hooves. That sounded exactly like what she was looking for! “I would like to see that,” she said.
The security guard chuckled. “I'm afraid that's not going to happen. That's a priceless artifact, and you'd need some really good connections to even open that case.”
Spike coughed a laugh.
* * *
Sure enough, within minutes, Twilight was poring over the log. Though the writing was messy and abbreviated at times, and archaic spellings and phrasings abounded, she soon fell into a rhythm of mental interpretation. Spike had found something interesting among the weaponry, and was pretending to fight innumerable invisible enemies with a rolled-up map.
Then, out of the blue, she gasped. There it was.
12 November 465
Sent out to bring in a moste troublesome narcoblix. He was ready for us and had prepared a moste curious powder which he blewe upon us. I did cease to breathe and was unaffected but it made guard Misty Evening sleep whereupon the criminal bit him and took controll of his body. Misty is a moste formidable fighter and it was an awful fight as we did not want to harm one of our own nor did we wish to perish at his hoofs.
This fight was ended when little Midnight Blossom secreted herself in the dark and then stabbed the treacherous narcoblix through the heart with a wingblade which did kill him anon. The experience has left Mist with a painful headache which has yet to leave him regardless of tea or other remedy.
But it was the information in the back pages that really made Twilight giddy. They were a long hoof-written compendium of all the creatures the night guard would have to face; more or less a cheat sheet for all the less-friendly creatures of the night. Where to find them, what to do when you came across them, their weaknesses, and their strengths.
And one of the columns was labelled 'narcoblix'.
* * *
Octavia finished her song, drawing the bow across the strings slowly and letting the final note ring off long into the night.
As it faded away, ponies stamped politely for a good three minutes, the refined version of what her roommate might term 'bringing down the house'. She bowed gracefully, and then walked off stage, followed by her fellow members.
“Perfect as always, Miss Octavia,” Beauty said with a congratulatory nudge.
“Oh, you know,” Octavia said with a demure blush. “It's as if I can't sleep until I get it perfect.”
“Well, keep up the sleepless work,” Beauty said with a wink. “They'll be inviting us to every event in Canterlot at this rate.”
Octavia finished putting away her beloved instrument, and tightened the strap. She lifted it and began walking.
Yet she slowed. Her ears flicked around. There was somepony else there. The security here had always been more for show than anything else, and she knew she was on her own if anything were to happen. She turned to glare at her stalker.
She saw nopony.
She scowled. This might have been her roommate playing a trick on her.
A moment later, though, she discarded that theory. Vinyl couldn't sneak around to save her life, but whoever was following her was eerily quiet.
She abruptly changed her route, heading downstairs. She wound her way through the lower levels and the dark hallways beneath the stage, and going down out the back alleyway.
At least, that was the idea.
She grabbed for the doorknob and then quickly retracted it, shaking her hoof and hissing in pain as her hoof suddenly burned, as if she had grabbed hot iron instead. She squinted at it and snarled as she recognized the white powder coated on the brass. Then she recomposed herself. “Powdered mistletoe,” Octavia observed dispassionately. She turned back around. “You've done your research.”
“I try,” the other pony said loftily.
Octavia began to circle, but the other pony had chosen well; the hallway was too cramped to do much besides pace. Certainly not enough room to spin and strike with her powerful earth pony hind legs, and rearing up would only give her a shot at her sensitive underbelly. She would have to think her way out. “Very well. You wanted me, and now I'm here; what do you want?”
“Honestly? I want to perform a few… tests.”
Octavia facehoofed. “Twilight Sparkle…”
“How did you know it was me?” Twilight demanded, stepping into the light now that her identity was revealed. “I followed the steps in 'How to Stalk Prey' to the letter! The letter!”
“Nopony knows about narcoblixes,” Octavia said flatly. “I lived with my marefriend for two years before she even started suspecting something; and it would have been much longer had I not gotten careless one night. And then mentioning tests? You really could have just sent me a letter and saved the both of us all this trouble.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Would you have come if I had?” she asked.
One side of Octavia's mouth curled up in a half-smile. “Of course not.”
“That's what I thought.” Her curiosity piqued, Twilight had to ask. “What made her suspect you, anyway?”
Octavia smirked. “Waking up on the dinner table, on her back, legs spread, wearing only one of my bow ties.”
Twilight grimaced.
Octavia smirked evilly. “What? I got hungry.”
Twilight grit her teeth. “And that I will add to my list of things I could have gone my whole life without hearing,” she grumbled.
Octavia chuckled. “It gets better. That was only the first time I erred. She really started to suspect something after I forgot to put her back in bed after I engaged herself in sexual conduct.”
Twilight blinked. That would mean…
Octavia translated, “She was performing autocu-”
“And that's enough of that!” Twilight said quickly.
Octavia chuckled briefly before dropping back down to a serious mode again. “As I was saying… the fact that you've chosen this method of contact leads me to believe that I won't enjoy these… 'tests'.”
“Well, most of what I had in mind is inherently unethical…” Twilight admitted.
Octavia bared her teeth, revealing tiny fangs normally hidden by her lips.
“…but they wouldn't be unethical if I performed them on myself.”
Octavia squinted, unable to comprehend. “So you're saying…?”
“Yes.” Twilight swallowed. “I want to become a narcoblix.”
Octavia blinked.
She blinked again.
Then she burst out laughing. “You- you can't be serious!” she choked. “There is no undoing becoming a narcoblix!”
“I know; but it's-”
“You are off of your rocker,” Octavia said firmly. “Being a narcoblix is nowhere near enjoyable. You can't sleep at night.”
Twilight shrugged. “All the better for studying.”
“You're tired all day and can't spend as much time in the sun. Life doesn't start until the sun starts going down.”
“I'm always tired; and I spend most of my time indoors, anyway.”
“You get the urges to bite everyone you meet.”
“I handle my estrous using only meditation.”
“And you get 'welfare checks' from Luna's batty brats every other week or so.”
This one Twilight hadn't quite anticipated. “The Night Guard?” she asked.
Octavia rolled her eyes. “If you wish to be politically correct, yes, ‘the Night Guard’. They're more of a nuisance than anything. Just listen for the insects. They go quiet when they're around. Bats eat insects, after all.”
Twilight cracked a smile. “You gave me advice. You want to turn me.”
Octavia scowled. “I want to bite you,” she corrected. “That's my instinct. But I won't.”
Twilight lit her horn and levitated a needle, but this was no ordinary needle. It gleamed strangely in the light of the candles on the walls, and it looked far too shiny to be an ordinary needle.
“Silver…” Octavia breathed, fear flickering in her eyes for the first time. She was fast, it was true; but she was not faster than magic.
“So that one is true,” Twilight whispered.
Octavia exhaled, her expression now fear tinged with hatred. “Yes; but I trusted the last pony I let pierce me.”
Twilight blinked, and the needle lowered. The journal seemed to indicate that while pierced with silver, the narcoblix would be forced to obey whomever had pierced her. The only pony she could have trusted that much was… “Your roommate?” she suggested.
Octavia nodded. “It was the best way to get her to trust me. Furthermore, I knew she wouldn't make me do anything too dangerous.” Her expression hardened. “You, on the other hoof, I don't trust; you as a pony or your intelligence.”
Twilight narrowed her eyes and raised the needle again.
Octavia closed her eyes and sighed. She turned around, leaned down, and opened her cello case. “Very well. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather remain in control of my facilities. You want it?” She pulled a small knife out of a compartment, like the kind used for cutting musical reeds down to proper size, and slid over across the ground. “Take it.”
The knife bumped to a stop against Twilight's hoof. She stared. “What?” she finally managed to ask.
“You've read the legends,” Octavia said, walking over and extending a foreleg. “You've done your research, right? You know what to do.”
Twilight nudged the knife with a hoof and grimaced. “I was really hoping that was a mistranslation… Can't you just bite me?”
“That binds you to me. And biting somepony as special as you would propel me to the top of the batty squad's naughty list, so I'm afraid my hooves are tied, so to speak. You want it, you know what to do.”
Twilight grimaced as she neared Octavia's outstretched foreleg. “How much do I have to drink?”
“I really don't know,” Octavia said flippantly. “I suppose you'll find out.”
Twilight nodded and pulled out a few pills.
“Sleeping pills. You did plan ahead,” Octavia murmured.
“I didn't want to take any chances on the blood wearing off before I went home,” Twilight said. She took eight pills dry, then looked at Octavia. “Can you at least take me home afterwards?” Twilight asked hopefully.
Octavia smiled. “Yes, that can be arranged.” Her eyes narrowed. “No piercing necessary.”
Twilight nodded, swirled her tongue around her mouth once more to get the chalky taste of the pills out, and then steeled herself. “Ok. I'm ready.”
Octavia held her leg steady as Twilight lit her horn and lifted the knife. She hesitated, then gritted her teeth and brought the knife down across Octavia's foreleg.
Octavia inhaled sharply through gritted teeth, but she didn't flinch.
Twilight hesitated once more, and then brought her lips to the cut. She sniffed, smelling the metallic tang of the blood, and then she extended her tongue and began to drink.
Octavia grunted, but made no further motions as Twilight lapped at her cut.
Twilight eventually sat back and wiped her lips, forcing herself to not gag. “It's done?” she asked, her words coming out slightly slurred.
“I guess you'll find out soon enough,” Octavia said. Her visage began to swim, and Twilight slowly drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Twilight groaned as she slowly regained consciousness. Her ears flicked. Someone else was shuffling nearby, hesitantly shifting their weight between two legs. The only one she knew that fit that description was… “Spike?” she asked.
“Yeah. Uh, good morning, Twilight.” His voice was quieter. Why was he whispering? “Rough night last night? There's a hangover cure recipe I found in one of those old books, and I took the liberty of making you some. It's here on the nightstand.”
Twilight groaned and rubbed her eyes. “Not that I want to be ungrateful, but why would you offer that?”
Spike, pointedly averting his eyes, gestured at Twilight's lower frame.
Twilight looked down and gasped.
Her tail had been braided tightly, all the way up to her dock, and she had a loose rope tied to her, connecting the middle of her tail and a collar around her neck. To make it worse, she was wearing a pair of panties, emblazoned with a hauntingly familiar purple treble clef. She blushed furiously and clamped her hind legs together. “I hate narcoblixes,” she grumbled under her breath.