//------------------------------// // 7: Vilage Conspiracy 3 // Story: Sabbatical, or the Study of Garden Gnome Anatomy in South Perjina // by Casca //------------------------------// "So, what, you think this could be murder?" asked Sunset. "Probably." Starlight wrinkled her nose. "Man, I'm no good around death. Give me a couple of moments while I look away." "That's a bit surprising, considering what you, well, what you said you've done in the past." "The super scary future full of death was what got me." Starlight's lips stretched into a thin curl. "And Our Village was a new way of living, not dying. I'm actually all about not dying." "Mhm." Sunset stepped forward gingerly, half-sliding down the pit. With a sweep of her magic, she dusted off the grime, revealing a few more bones—legs, tail pieces... another head. "Oh. Another one." "More corpses?" "Mhm. Say, Starlight, do you think this could be the village? From the sign?" "What are you thinking?" "Some sort of plague or accident happened. The river gets blocked up, or whatever—completely irrelevant, though. The key is that the whole village must have died, and over time, travelers or survivors must have buried the poor souls." Sunset bit her lip and found herself assumed a more taut position—upright, like somepony was about to deliver a long overdue eulogy. "Still doesn't explain how dirt from so far away got here, though." "Yeah, about that..." Starlight's head peeked past the edge of the pit to reveal sorry eyes. "My information may have been a bit off." "As in, the dirt wasn't from five hundred kilometers away?" "No, no, that part's correct," said Starlight, waving a hoof. "No, it's just that somehow, the sample I tested happened to be from there. Most of the other dirt is just plain dirt from around here." She shrugged. "Crazy coincidence, but that's what it is." Sunset frowned. So the most mysterious part of the mystery had turned out to just be—surprise—random, after all. "I mean," continued Starlight, "it makes sense, right? Over time, the smallest specks are carried by wind or beast to places unknown. Even specks move on from where they belong, out into a great beyond." Her voice grew distant. "To be found by wandering unicorns, messing up their diagnostic skills. That's kinda like us, don't you think?" "I think the unicorns are us?" suggested Sunset helpfully. "No, no—I meant the specks. The specks are like us. With time, we are made to move on by nature's hooves." Starlight shot her a rueful expression. "The unicorns are us. Of course I know that." "Ah." Sunset nodded, and would have been more in the mood to appreciate the philosophy if it weren't for the bones at her hooves. She made her way out of the pit and stood by Starlight's side. "Can you handle this? Filling the hole, I mean." "Of course." With that, Sunset turned to stare into the cloudy, endless horizon, as the sound of scooped dirt returning to its place rang through the valleys, fading into silence. And, for a moment, when the breeze kicked up, she thought she could hear Starlight whisper a prayer for the deceased.