//------------------------------// // Oakenhoof Manor // Story: Under A Silver Moon // by Danger Beans //------------------------------// “You know, Luna, I think that I’d enjoy this little ride together a lot more if I were inside the chariot, don’t you?” Luna glanced at Discord, flying closely alongside her chariot. It had been quiet on the way to Horsemouth. Discord had scarcely spoken more than a few words since they’d left Canterlot. When they had departed, her guards had blanched upon seeing the Draconequus trailing behind her. Even now, they kept shooting furtive glances back over their shoulders, but otherwise made no protestations or comments against Discord’s presence. “I, however,” she said with finality, “would enjoy this ride even less than I am currently.” Discord put a talon to his muzzle thoughtfully. “It would seem we’ve reached an impasse then. How about a compromise? I ride with you, and you just pretend that you’re not bothered. Sound good?” “Not in the slightest.” “And this is why you don’t have any friends, Luna. You’re not willing to compromise.” “You would lecture me about friendship!?” Luna scoffed. “Well, between the two of us, I do have more friends.” “You possess one friend.” “And you possess zero, Luna. That’s a hundred percent advantage.” Discord reclined back in the air and smiled. “Which would make me a far more qualified judge of these matters than you.” To her guards, Luna asked, “How long until we arrive at Horsemouth?” “An hour if the wind stays calm,” one of the pegasi replied. “Half that if we catch a tailwind, twice that if we run a headwind.” Luna ground her teeth. Ordinarily, the weather of their course would have been prepared in advance to ensure a swift and easy flight. But their unexpected departure from Canterlot had left no time for such a luxury. She would have to grin and bear it. “I could get us there with just a snap of my claws. I’d just need to get a little comfortable first. Maybe in your chariot?” “Why are you doing this?” Luna asked. “It looks like a very nice chariot, bat wings notwithstanding.” “Not your pointless needling! Why are you doing this? Why are you assisting me? You don’t care about the lives of ponies. Why would you agree to investigate a murder?” Discord raised one scaly brow and crossed his arms. “It’s so good to know how highly you think of me, Luna,” he said, smirking. “But in this instance, you’re right. I don’t care. I’ve seen more of your precious ponies come and go that one getting early retirement isn’t going to rustle my jimmies.” Discord tilted until he was flying upside down. “If you must know, I decided to do this because I was bored.” “You were . . . bored,” Luna replied after a moment. “Yes. Bored. As much as I’d prefer otherwise, Fluttershy can’t afford to spend every waking moment of her existence with me, and your sister remains adamant that I not indulge my innate desire to bring chaos to the world, so occasionally I have to find other ways to occupy myself.” “Bored,” Luna said again. “Oh don’t give me that look. I’ve been around longer than you and Celestia combined. Sometimes, I get bored.” Luna stared at Discord. His eyes were twin rubies, glittering in what little light was to be had on this dark night. His lips upturned in a cockeyed half-smile. Arms crossed, tail swinging calmly back and forth. Whatever he might have been feeling, Luna could not tell. He wore the smiling mask like a harlequin. At last, Luna turned away from him, and pressed herself to the other side of the chariot. “Come,” she beckoned. “Ooh!” Discord flew up and into the chariot feet first. “Comfy,” he said, bounding on the cushioned floor experimentally. “Azure velvet, phoenix down, top-of-the-line enhancements to ensure maximum safety and comfort for the occupants. My, my. The perks of being a princess. Does this come standard, or did you have to commission it?” “This chariot was a gift from my sister, Discord,” Luna said. “Oh?” Discord looked up at her. “Of the ‘Welcome Back!’ or the ‘Please-Forget-I-Banished-You-To-The-Moon-For-A-Thousand-Years!’ variety?” “It was for my birthday.” Discord stopped bouncing. “Oh. Well that backfired spectacularly.” The night descended into an uncomfortable silence. Luna focused her attention on the blackened sky in front of them. After several minutes of silence, Discord stuck a claw out an inch in front of Luna’s face. “I’m not touching you.” Luna stared at Discord’s outstretched claw. “What are you doing?” “I’m not touching you,” Discord said simply. “Well . . . stop it.” “I’m not touching you, Luna.” “Stop it.” “Luna, I’m not touching you. “Stop it.” “Luuuna, I’m not touching you.” “I told you to stop it, Draconequus!” Luna yelled. Discord held up his hands. “Stop what, Luna? I’m not touching you.” “Well then, stop ‘not touching me,’” she growled. Discord smiled. “Your wish is my command, Luna,” he said. And then he flicked her on the nose. Luna blinked, sneezed, and screamed. “Discord!” “But I was only doing what you asked, Luna,” Discord said, looking hurt. “You told me to stop ‘not touching you.’ And that’s exactly what I did.” Luna forced her lips together. Then, through clenched teeth, she said, “Can you take nothing seriously, draconequus?” Discord looked at her incredulously. “That’s a rhetorical question, I assume?” “Obviously,” Luna breathed on a sigh. “You said that you could shorten this trip, Discord?” “Did I?” “Yes, you did. With a click of your claws, if I recall correctly.” “Ah, yes. I did say that, didn’t I?” Discord replied cheerily, and clicked his claws together. There was no flash of light, no fizzle or pop to signify that any magic had been enacted but Luna knew immediately that something had changed. The pegasus magic in her wings started tingling, adjusting to a sudden change in atmosphere. She had to resist the urge to spread her wings out, and knew from the sudden jerking of the chariot that her guards had felt it too. Luna shook herself. “What did you do?” she asked Discord. Discord shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, not much. I just moved the world forward a bit. We’re above Horsemouth, by the way.” “Princess, are you all right?” one of the pegasi asked her. “I am fine,” Luna replied. “What is our bearing?” The pegasus paused to look over their surroundings. “I believe that we’re . . . above Horsemouth,” one said tentatively. “That’s what I just said!” “Good,” Luna said. “Locate Oakenhoof Manor at once and set us down.” From the corner of her eye she could see Discord scowling. “Honestly, Luna,” he said, “have a little faith.” It didn’t take long to locate the manor; it stood on a hill overlooking the whole of Horsemouth. Large and gothic, primarily of wood construction, it looked less a house and more a wooden fortress. It was of square architecture, with boxy turrets jutting up from each corner. The roof looked flat. There was a wrought iron fence directly in front of the house, and a trellis covered in thick thorny vines. From what little of Horsemouth architecture Luna had seen, she surmised that this manor was old. Not as old as Canterlot, but definitely much older than the buildings surrounding it, which was curious. As they circled the manor, Luna also noticed a large forested area to the rear of the manor. A private trotting ground, perhaps? “Princess, where would you like us to set down?” one of the pegasus asked. “On the front walkway,” Luna said. “But circle the manor once again first.” The pegasus nodded, and the chariot tilted upward. “Something the matter, Luna?” Discord asked. Luna kept her eyes on the mansion. “There is no light,” she said. “What?” “In the windows, there is no light.” Discord stretched his head out past the railing. “Huh,” he said after a moment. “And why exactly is this a cause for concern?” “It is improper,” Luna said. “When the Master of the House is away, somepony must always be on vigil to attend her if she should return unannounced in the night. And a lantern must always be left burning in a window so that the Master will know a servant is indeed at attention within the house.” Discord was silent for a moment. “No offense, Luna, but you do know that some customs have changed just a teensy-weensy bit in the last thousand years, right?” Luna turned to look at him. “Since my return, one of the few things which has remained constant is the custom of the wealthy. You saw what his accommodations were like inside the Ivory Tower.” “Fair point,” Discord said. “But we’re not going to learn anything staring at the windows.” And then he jumped over the side. “Discord! You impetuous-!” But he was already gone. “I’m heading down,” she called to the guards, and lept off the chariot. It was a short glide to the entryway. Discord was leaning against the door, smirking. “What took you so long?” he asked. Luna ignored him. She’d already decided what she was going to do. As soon as she recombined herself, she’d send Fluttershy—the yellow one, if memory served—somewhere far away with lots of indigenous wildlife which she could fawn over, and order Discord to accompany her. It would not be difficult to arrange; she knew several ponies which she felt could be trusted not to tell Celestia. Ponies who bore the draconequus no goodwill. Putting aside the thought for later contemplation, Luna lit her aura and stretched out her senses. There were no sleeping minds within the manor, that much was certain. “Can you sense anypony in the house?” she asked Discord. “Nope,” he replied. Luna grasped the door knocker and rapped gently. “Looks like no pony’s home,” Discord said after a minute. He reached out and turned the door handle. “Door’s unlocked though. Shall we?” He pushed the door open. Something was not right about this. “Stay close to me,” Luna said as she crossed the threshold. Discord raised one eyebrow. “Stay close? Are we nervous, Princess?” “I only wish to keep an eye on you, draconequus.” Discord chuckled. “Of course, Luna.” The front doors opened out into a grand atrium. “Hello? Is anypony here? It is I, Princess Luna. I am here on behalf of the Canterlot City Guard, concerning the Master of the House. Is anypony here?” Silence. “Well this isn’t creepy at all,” Discord said. Luna lit her horn. “Light!” she commanded. Immediately every candle, lantern, and fireplace within the manor burst into flame as her magic sought them out. Faded gold light filled the atrium as tiny flames flickered into existence atop a chandelier overhead. From the corner of her eye Luna saw a slithering movement; she jerked suddenly. “Did you see that!?” Discord blinked. “See what?” Luna pointed to the far corner of the atrium which branched off into a corridor. “I saw something move.” “I didn’t see anything.” But Luna was already at the corridor’s entrance. Beyond was not a corridor at all but a large walk-in closet. Rows of coats hung on racks alongside the walls. There was no other entrance in the coat rack save the one Luna was now standing in. And it was completely devoid of life. Luna could sense Discord behind her, looking over her into the closet. She didn’t need to see his face to know what expression he wore. “Follow me,” she said before Discord could say anything. “And keep an eye out.” Luna flew up to the second floor. “If this manor is truly vacant, then we shall take advantage of this opportunity to search the premises.” Luna pointed to the north end of the hallway. “We will search every room from one side of the house to the other. Traditionally, domestic servants are housed either in their own domicile away from the main property, or in the farthest most bedrooms. I did not see any building that looked big enough to house servants on the grounds,” she said once Discord had joined her. “So it is likely that they either reside in the house or in the surrounding town.” Luna eyed Discord thoughtfully. “Can you take a less conspicuous form?” He snapped his claws and was gone in a white flash of light. Luna felt something soft wrap around her neck. She looked down to find a sparkling blue scarf wrapped around her neck. “Is this ‘inconspicuous’ enough for you, Luna?” the scarf said. “Get off of me!” Luna exclaimed, trying to pull the scarf off. The scarf seemed to droop slightly. “Oh come now, Luna. I look so nice on you. I can change the color if you want, but this shade really makes your eyes pop.” A full-length mirror popped into existence in front of her. Luna stopped. She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. When she opened them and looked into the mirror, she smiled. “Yes,” she said pleasantly, “my eyes are very much popping in their sockets. Thank you, Discord. Let’s be off.” The scarf that was Discord tingled slightly. “You’re . . . welcome.” Luna set down the hallway. Having the Spirit of Chaos coiled around her neck was not exactly comforting, but she refused to play Discord’s foalish games. “So,” Discord asked nonchalantly after a minute of silence. “What exactly are we looking for? Another sex dungeon?” The first door Luna came to revealed a broom closet. The second door however, had opened up into a spacious study. Bookshelves lined both walls, and a large desk sat sternly at the end of the room. On the wall behind the desk was a portrait of a stallion, looking down like a judgmental god. “No,” Luna said. “I doubt that Oakenhoof was so bold as to practice his fetish within his own home.” “Then what are we looking for?” “Clues,” Luna said simply. “Friends, lovers, associates. Anypony who Oakenhoof might have drawn into his depravity.” “Misery does love company,” Discord said. Luna ran a wingtip over the top of the desk. It made a bright streak in the wood. “This is curious,” she said. “What I saw of this manor’s interior before entering here was immaculate, but this desk is covered in dust.” Discord made no noise or movement from around her neck. Luna pulled out one of the desk drawers with her aura, the handle was rusted with age and dented by teeth marks. Inside, was nothing of note: a few papers, an old pipe, and a tin of tobacco that was nearly as rusted as the drawer handle. A quick search of the other drawers revealed a similar assortment of detritus, all of it withered with age and covered with dust. She went to the nearest bookshelf and began pulling volumes at random. Each tome was yellowed and smelled of stale paper. “This room has been left in such a state intentionally,” she said at last. “To what intent, I know not.” “Maybe it’s haunted,” said Discord boredly. “Or his servants have been barred from entry,” Luna replied. “Assuming Oakenhoof even has servants.” “He has them. Excepting this room, the interior of the manor has been immaculate. No, this study has been left untouched for a reason.” Luna went to the portrait of the stallion, and quickly checked that there was no hidden compartment behind it. When she replaced it, she noticed that there was a small plaque on the bottom. The writing was faded, but still legible: Baron Oakenhoof I “Oakenhoof The First . . . The Timber Baron . . .” read Luna. It was a portrait of the first Oakenhoof. “This must have been his study.” There was a flash of light and a ‘POP!’ and Discord appeared beside her, in his true form. “I got tired of being a scarf,” he said simply. “You can keep it, by the way; consider it a gift.” He glanced up at the portrait. “Charming fellow. Looks like he could have gone to the same gentlecolt’s club as the first Blueblood. Luna’s mouth suddenly felt dry. There was a rather striking resemblance between the two. Not in their physicality, but in their demeanor. The set of Oakenhoof I’s shoulders, those cold eyes. The haughty arrogance which seemed to be soaked into the very paint. Deep in Blueblood Manor there was a portrait of King Blueblood I. It was larger, and more ornate, featuring the titular King surrounded by baying hounds standing atop the bleeding corpse of a manticore. “Yes,” she said at last. “They do bear a passing resemblance to one another. The countenance of one who thinks himself above those around him is easily recognizable.” Discord smiled. “Especially to those who’ve worn it themselves, I’d imagine.” Luna didn’t reply. To her, the portrait of Oakenhoof I didn’t just look cruel, but also . . . disappointed; as if he could see what had become of his descendants. King Blueblood had hoped to be the father of a dynasty. What had Oakenhoof hoped to leave behind as his legacy? What would he think of Baron Von Oakenhoof’s sexual depravity? What would he have said if he were to know that one of his line would find pleasure in being chained and tortured? From the impression his portrait gave, they would not be words of love and tolerance. And then a more sobering thought came to her: was Baron Von the last remaining Oakenhoof? Had this proud stallion’s line been cut? Such was the greatest fear of any father who hoped to achieve immortality through legacy. That all of their achievements and aspirations would die with their line. “Let us continue our search,” she said to Discord, and left through the doorway. The next door they came to opened onto the second floor of the library, and the door after that opened out into a large communal lavatory. Save Oakenhoof I’s study, the rooms were mundane; nothing within any of them offered any insight into Oakenhoof’s personal life. Luna felt more as if she were walking through a museum than a house. As their search progressed, Luna noticed that much of the interior architecture was very similar to that of the time before her fall from grace, in stark contrast to the exterior, which possessed an alien aesthetic. The final door of the wing led to a master suite. Like everything else in the house, it was immaculately kept, and bereft any signs that it had ever been inhabited. “Discord,” Luna said slowly. “Word Smith did say that the Ivory Tower primarily provides temporary residence to its tenants, yes?” Discord was looking uninterestedly at his tail. “He might have said something to that effect. Why do you ask?” “Something seems amiss in this house,” Luna said. Discord yawned. “You don’t say?” “I feel as if I am walking through a child’s doll house!” Luna exclaimed. “In Oakenhoof’s suite at the Ivory Tower there was trash in his waste bin, the smell of cologne and tobacco in the air, specks of dirt and hair in the carpet and on the tiles. The detritus of a life. This house feels as empty as a vacant coffin! It is not right!” Luna went to the window, outside, the sky was still a sea of black. “Something has been bothering me since we left the Ivory Tower,” she said. “The ‘dungeon’ in Oakenhoof’s suite. That would have been no small undertaking. Why would anypony—even a wealthy pony—undertake such a task within a place of temporary residence?” She turned to Discord. “You don’t think that Oakenhoof actually lived here?” he asked. “I think the evidence supports it.” Luna gestured to the bed. “These sheets are unwrinkled. In the lavatory there were no personal toiletries. In the library there were no books unshelved. We have searched the whole of this house and we have found nothing save a facsimile.” Luna stormed out of the master suite, a smirking Discord in tow. The opposite wing was eerily symmetrical to the first. There was another broom closet, another study room—albeit much cleaner and more spartanly furnished—another communal lavatory, another door which opened up onto the second floor of a ballroom, several smaller guest suites and finally, another unlived-in master suite. Luna stomped her hoof on the carpet. “Curse it all!” Oakenhoof Manor was vacant; it would offer no aid to their investigation. This had all been for nothing. She hung her head and closed her eyes. “Come on, Luna! Keep your head up,” Discord said cheerily from behind her. “Somepony still has to cut the grass, trim the hedges, and all that jazz. We can talk to them.” “It would accomplish nothing,” Luna sighed. “The groundskeeper for an estate-in-waiting would not need to tend the land more than twice a month, and unless there was an extraordinary issue to resolve, they would never need come in contact with more than the butler.” Discord gasped exasperatedly. “Don’t be such a defeatist, Luna. There’s still the downstairs to search. Maybe we’ll find something there.” Luna gave the draconequus a look askance. “Yes, I suppose we may.” Resigned, she followed Discord downstairs, and as she had expected, they found nothing. They checked both of the coat closets by the entryway first, then proceeded on to the library. Luna grasped every book in her aura and pulled them off the shelves all at once, and only succeeded in throwing up a cloud of dust. There was a large common room, decorated with paintings of various members of the Oakenhoof family. A small washroom for guests, and a much smaller washroom obviously intended for servants. The grand ballroom which Luna had seen earlier from the second floor. A parlor that smelled rank of tobacco, adorned with the taxidermied heads of timber wolves, honey badgers and rockodiles, as well as the weapons Luna supposed had been used to kill them. There was a great dining hall; a cherrywood table and chairs enough to seat two-dozen guests. The brick fireplace sat stoically in the center of the room; a pile of fresh logs lay patiently beside it. The kitchens were likewise: glinting as the firelight danced over their polished iron, like armored knights standing at the ready, only awaiting the call to action. In each and every room, they found nothing: no hidden doors, no switches, notes or indeed any sign that anypony had ever lived there at all. Luna’s words from earlier rang in her ears, Like I am walking through a doll house. A sudden chill made its way down her spine. Luna could not shake the feeling that something was wrong in this house, but she did not know what. Why would Oakenhoof have listed this as his place of residence if he did not reside here? Why leave such a grand estate, untenanted? What was the significance of the study on the upper floor? Why had the rest of the house been razed to a wasteland of polished brass and swept tile but that room had been locked away? So many questions and not a single answer. “Something just occurred to me,” Discord said suddenly. Luna turned to him. During their search the draconequus had not been silent, but he had spoken about bore any relevance the the matter at horn, and she had ignored him. “Oh?” she said. “What if he was burgled?” Discord asked. “Burgled?” Luna repeated. “Yes, burgled: it’s a verb, it means to . . . to” Discord waved his claws in the air, “to—ugh! Where’s the walking dictionary when you need him—to steal!” Presently they were in the kitchen; Discord snapped his claws together, and an assortment of forks, knives and spoons clambered out of the previously empty drawers—propelled on tiny silver legs—and made their way onto the counter. They mingled there for a few seconds, as if marveling at their own existence, and then haphazardly segregated themselves into three groups. Discord held up a claw, “Now, pretend that the golden fork over there is Oakenhoof” — one of the forks turned a bright shade of gold and started hopping excitedly. — “Now, Oakenhoof is off in Canterlot hanging with the knives” — the golden fork hastily ran over to the group of knives — “and he starts hanging with the kinds of people who like to be tied up and beat down. They invite him into their little group and what do you know? He takes a liking to it. So much so that he decides he doesn’t ever want to leave.” Discord pointed to the remaining forks, “So he has his staff sweep the house and then gives them all the boot.” As one, the forks hung their heads and sulked away, slowly climbing back into the drawer that they’d appeared from. “Now,” Discord gestured to the spoons. “These spoons here just so happen to hear that there’s an empty mansion chock full of valuables ripe for the picking. So they go in while the getting’s good, and snatch everything not bolted down.” The spoons sprouted slender silver arms and scattered about in an attempt to ‘steal’ something; their efforts were in vain for the most part, but one industrious spoon managed to pull the burner off the stovetop. “So,” Discord placed claws on hips and puffed his chest out proudly, “what do you think?” In truth, Luna had not considered burglary as a possible cause for the manor’s barren state, but the scenario as Discord had described it sounded . . . unlikely. “It is possible . . .” she said cautiously, “but it does not explain why Oakenhoof was murdered.” Discord shrugged. “Probably died in a masochistic orgy.” The knives grew arms and pulled out tiny daggers; Luna watched in horrified fascination as they began stabbing the golden fork and peeling off gold foil from its body, revealing something that looked disconcertingly like chocolate. “I will keep your theory in mind, Discord,” Luna said. “It is too soon to rule out any possibility as yet.” Discord beamed. “We make a great team, Lou.” “Please do not address me as ‘Lou,’” Luna said. She walked through to the end of the kitchen to the back door, where she found a staircase leading downward. “Come, there is still searching to be done.” Discord mimed a salute. “Aye aye, Captain.” The room beyond the doorway a far cry from the rest of the mansion. Luna’s light spell had not found any sources here. Although she could see in the dark even more easily than she could see in the light—or so it sometimes seemed—she lit her horn for Discord’s sake. As they descended the stairs it seemed that they entered another world; above was a world of polish and sparkle, of stained wood and furnished glass. Luna and Discord were now below that bright and shining palace however, and in this netherworld, it stank of musty, stale air; the walls were crumbled and cracked in places and the wooden planks of the stairs and floor were rotting and infested. With every step Luna took, the earthen magic in her hooves tingled as the wood strained to hold her. These stairs should have splintered long ago, Luna thought. If they were not so drenched in earthen pony magic, they would surely be naught but dust now. Luna stopped, and pressed a hoof onto one of the planks; not roughly, but firmly. The plank bent, and groaned as she pressed, but it did not break or crack. “Find something?” Discord asked from behind her. The draconequus had not deigned to walk on the rotted steps; he instead chose to float alongside her. “These boards,” Luna replied, not looking away from the bent plank. “They are steeped in earth pony magic.” Discord bent down and poked several steps. “You’re right. Heck of a lot older than the house by the feel of them. Though I doubt it’ll do the property value much good. What does it have to do with ol’ Oakey?” Luna shook her head. “Maybe nothing, maybe everything. Tis impossible to know the significance of this without more information.” She lifted her gaze to the rectangle of light which framed the doorway to the house above. “But if we are to find something useful about Oakenhoof, I would say that this will be where it is.” At the bottom of the cellar was a damp, dirt floor. Again, Luna could feel the magic in her hooves once she stepped onto the dirt; magic born from generations of earth ponies trodding upon this floor, drenching it in their magic, without the purifying presence of rain or wind or sun, the magic had accumulated, drenching this place. Discord flew over to one of the stone pillars, rapped it gently, then gave out a sharp whistle. “I hope these pillars aren’t part of the foundation; they’re held together more by earth pony magic and spit than anything else. Get a little running water in here, and the whole mansion might collapse.” Luna glanced up at the ceiling. The ceiling looked as old and rotten as the stair steps. “That is an unpleasant notion,” she said, and quickened her pace slightly. At one time, this cellar may have been a wine cellar—Luna stepped over broken bottles and saw a few empty racks for such bottles, but they were in disrepair—but now seemed to be in use as a storage floor. There were chests filled with clothes and boxes filled with papers—all soiled by mildew. Decorations for the holidays, other assorted items Luna had no understanding of, but could tell at a glance were beyond repair. The dirt floor did not help matters; it added a layer of filth, encroaching on and over everything that rested on it. In addition, roaches, spiders, centipedes, moths, snakes rats, every vermin and pest which sought the dark and dank had made a home somewhere in this cellar, and they had spared little in constructing for themselves a paradise. They fled from the light of Luna’s horn like rats from a sinking ship. She found no secret doors, no hidden passageways, no evidence of Oakenhoof’s depravity nor the identities of his associates. “Well, Discord,” she spoke on a sigh, “I think we have seen all that there is to see. Shall we depart?” No answer. “Discord?” It wasn’t until Luna looked back for him that she realized he wasn’t there. “I’m over here,” came his voice to her left, several isles over. “I found something that you need to see.” Something in his tone sounded so unlike the draconequus that Luna immediately spread her wings and flew to him. “What did you find,” she asked as soon as her hooves touched ground. Discord was staring down at the floor, unmoving. “It’s better if I show you,” he said, and held out his paw. “May I take your hoof?” Luna stared at Discord’s outstretched paw uncertainly for a moment, and then surrendered her hoof to the draconequus; she flinched as she felt his foreign magic entering her body, but didn’t fight it. “What am I to look for, draconequus?” she asked. “You’ll see, Luna,” Discord replied simply. And she did. Suddenly, it was as if she were standing atop a glass-bottom boat: the dirt floor below her became as glass, fading away into transparency before her eyes. At first, she could not speak. Her mouth made the motions of speech, but could not reproduce the sounds. Finally, when the words came, they came battered and slowly, like battle-weary soldiers on the long march home. “Discord . . . if-if this is one of your jests I-” “It’s not,” Discord said quietly. Luna pressed her muzzle to his. “Then look into my eyes and swear it to me, draconequus.” “What you see down there is no joke, Luna; I swear.” There was no humor in Discord’s voice, no snide arrogance, only cold truth. Luna pulled her head back slowly. “I would have much preferred a joke.” “You and me both,” Discord said, smiling grimly. “Things just got a lot more complicated, that’s for sure.” “Do . . . do you know how many are down there?” Discord shook his head. “Not a clue. I’d guess about eighty at least, but there could be more; a lot of them look they they were buried in pieces. “Eighty,” Luna echoed hollowly. Her hoof was still firmly held in Discord’s paw; she stared down at what lay below the dirt. Bones. Hundreds of bones. Pony bones. Skulls, hooves, legs, ribs, wings, tails, horns, were scattered deep below the ground like maggots in a carcass, spanning the entire length of the basement floor. “Father Cosmos . . . what manner of hell is this place?” she asked. The foundation of Oakenhoof Manor was buried atop a forest of bones. The bones of children.