//------------------------------// // The House of Fortune // Story: The Light of Despair // by Gordon Pasha //------------------------------// There was, to Hope’s very great relief, a library. It was not a huge library, which surprised Hope for some reason. She had, only a few moments ago, been certain that there was no library. But, if there was a library, she had expected, or at least hoped, that it would be massive. Everything or nothing thinking, as they say. But the number of bookshelves and the large tomes on them did make for a library, if perhaps not the largest or the most impressive. Perhaps there would be something here, after all. Or, at least, that is what Hope chose to believe. She took a look around the rest of the room. It was surprisingly bare. “I expected there’d be more to it,” she said as Fortune walked in behind her. “Why?” Fortune asked. “Well, you do have all the other rooms covered floor to ceiling in expensive carpets and tapestries and things…. And you do like to wear fancy clothes…. And you do brag a lot about how much wealth you have….” “I get the picture,” Fortune said. “But you have to understand, Hope, that this is my study. And a serious practitioner of the noble art of alchemy, as I once fancied myself, likes to keep his workspace as clean and simple as possible. It helps to keep his mind focused on the mighty task of transmutation.” Hope gave Fortune a knowing look. He hardly seemed the pony who would consider extravagance and luxury needless distractions. He enjoyed them too much. Catching Hope’s look (and her implied drift), Fortune glanced at the ground and began rubbing his foreleg. “And… it minimizes property damage in the explosions which inevitably result when a pony’s main occupation is mixing random chemicals together.” “Seriously?” Hope asked. Fortune pointed to the bookshelf. “I used to do my experiments over there. My impetus for putting up the bookshelves was to hide the massive hole.” “Seriously?” Hope said again, her voice more incredulous. “Didn’t you notice the unnecessarily large tapestry hanging on the other side when we walked by?” “I thought it was just for decoration.” Hope looked to the bookshelf. Fortune approached his new alchemy desk against the adjacent wall. “Why do you even have books in here if it’s so dangerous?” Hope said. “They all look pretty rare and valuable too. Aren’t you afraid of losing them?” “Not really,” Fortune responded. “I don’t do real alchemy – whatever that is – that much anymore. Oh, I still dabble, but not on so large or so dangerous a scale. Why, just recently, I thought I had finally cracked the mystery and discovered the philosopher’s stone.” Hope noticed that Fortune, as he said this, was staring sullenly down at his desk, where there was a large mixing bowl. She joined him. Inside the bowl was what looked like milk, except that it had a slight silvery sheen. “What is it?” Hope asked. “That is a philosopher’s stone, or at least it was supposed to be.” Fortune shook his head. “I don’t understand it. It’s supposed to go black, then white, then red, and then it’s supposed to harden into a… a….” “A stone?” “You have a way with words, Hope. Have you ever considered becoming a poet? Yes, a stone.” He waved his hoof at the mixture. “But this, it just sits in the white stage. Now, they say a white stone can turn base metals into silver, but all this concoction has managed to do is to not evaporate or dissolve despite sitting here for weeks. I just don’t know what to do with it.” Hope looked over to the cabinet of potions next to the desk. There were vials and bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors in there. Hope’s eye caught on a short, fat one, emerald in color, that seemed to be made of pewter or stone or some such material. Hope’s horn glowed blue, and the bottle floated up from the cabinet and glided over. She may have been no alchemist, but that did not mean she could not help a friend. Wait, Hope said to herself, do I consider Fallen Fortune a friend now? “How about this one?” Hope asked as she set the bottle down next to the bowl. “Are you crazy?” Fortune said in alarm. “Probably, but why?” “You can’t just take a random tincture and mix it in. The results may be….” Fortune pointed a hoof toward the bookcases. “Oh,” Hope said. “Then how do you do it?” “I haven’t added in anything new yet. I want to be absolutely sure that I’m chosen the right ingredient before I do. Or, otherwise….” “I think I know.” Hope pointed toward the bookcases. “You’re a fast learner,” Fortune said. “It takes most apprentices years to figure that out. You see, this stage is very critical, so the books say. Introducing the wrong tincture at this precise point in the process is, in fact, the number one cause of work-related fatalities among alchemists. Why, half those books on the shelf there inform us that their authors died from that very cause. Which, now that I come to think about it, doesn’t seem to add up. If the authors died, how did they write the books…. Hope?” Fortune noticed that Hope had completely lost interest in this line of inquiry. Instead, she was standing in front of the large, obsidian mirror hanging beside the doors. Fortune walked up behind her. Hope did not seem to notice. She was transfixed by the mirror. And the image in the mirror. The image was of a tall, handsome grey stallion with large green eyes and a mane of plenteous black hair. Fortune looked to the image, and then to Hope. “Sombra?” Fortune asked. “How did you know?” Hope said, in a dreamy, distant voice. Fortune put his hoof under Hope’s chin and pushed up her jaw, closing her mouth. “Well, given how much you were drooling, let’s call it an informed guess.” “Sombra?” Hope said to the image. “Is it really you? Are you alright?” The Sombra in the mirror smiled. “Are you still mad at me?” Hope said. “I never meant to hurt you! Honestly, I didn’t want what happened to happen. It was just… something came over me that night.” “Hope….” Fortune said firmly. Hope looked to him. “Is this real? Is he trapped somewhere? Can we get him out?” “Hope, the mirror is–” “You said that this mirror shows you everything in Equestria. Maybe, if we look hard enough, we can find out where Sombra is! Sombra, we’re going to save you! I won’t lose you again!” But when Hope looked back, she saw that Sombra had changed. He was no longer the handsome pony she had known. Now he was the Sombra she had met on that night of destiny, the powerful, wicked figure with the glowing eyes and the red horn. Now, however, he also work a cloak – red with royal ermine trim, and an intimidating iron crown. Hope gasped. Fortune gasped. Other images followed. The petrification of Princess Amore. Sombra enslaving the crystal ponies. The arrival of the two Royal Sisters and the beginning of their duel. “Why am I seeing this?” Hope said sadly. “I already had to live through it once. And that was painful enough.” “I don’t know, Hope, I don’t know,” Fortune said. “On the plus side, I’m seeing it for the first time. Don’t tell me how it ends.” The sisters blasted Sombra, causing him to dissolve into the blackness of the mirror. “I just want to say, your telling of it was much better,” Fortune said. “This version did nothing for me.” “I’m glad to see all my sufferings weren’t for nothing,” Hope responded flatly. “Look!” Fortune said, pointing to the mirror. There, Sombra reappeared. Slowly at first, as though he was reconstituting himself. Then, from behind him, several more figures appeared from the darkness. Large, hulking, mist-like creatures, with an appearance that combined the best features of ‘reanimated skeleton’ and ‘demon.’ Hope shivered as she watched them approach. “What are those things?” Hope said. “And why are they surrounding Sombra?” “I have a theory,” Fortune said. But before he could elaborate, the mirror changed again. Now, the Crystal Empire, with the massive spire of the Crystal Palace, came into view. But it was distorted and darkened, as though seen through a fog or a murky pool of water. And there was mist everywhere. Then it cleared up. The Crystal Empire was normal again. But not for long. Soon, the great spire of the Crystal Palace changed again. Now, it was…. Hope gasped again. “The Crystal Palace…. It’s on fire!” The flame grew and grew until it ran up and down the whole of the Crystal Palace. The whole palace was engulfed by flame and there was nothing visible within the great conflagration. Slowly, the inferno formed into the figure of a pony. Hope’s jaw dropped again, though now for quite different reasons. She shook her head. “No… Princess Amore?” Indeed, there was the regal princess of the Crystal Empire, looking as Hope had known her, before being turned to stone. But not quite as Hope had known her, actually. No, Hope had never seen that much anger and rage on Amore’s face before. Then that was gone. And Sombra reappeared, that terrifying King Sombra that was pure evil to anypony not named Radiant Hope. And the dark creatures returned, larger and more numerous. There seemed to be almost a swarm of them. “I… I don’t understand….” Hope said. Then, however, the black mirror ceased to be black. For but a brief moment, it became a clear shade of blue. And in that blue was Sombra, as Hope had once known him. Except he still wore that red cape and that crown. But they were changed, transformed, and no longer the accoutrements of a tyrant. They were something else. And behind Sombra, where the creatures had been, there were a number of ponies like him, all tall and grey and black. And they all seemed as benign as he did. Sombra spoke. The word could not be heard. But the shape of his mouth was evident. The single word he said was, “Hope.” Hope was stunned. “Do… do you think those are Sombra’s people?” she asked. Fortune was silent. Then the blue light faded and, with it, the images. All that was left upon the obsidian mirror was black, opaque glass. Hope turned to Fortune, her eyes plaintive, asking for an explanation. “What is this?” she asked. “Is it my imagination? Is it the future? What?” “Don’t worry about it, Hope,” Fortune said. “This old mirror’s never worked right since the day I bought it. When I said I could see everything in Equestria, I was lying.” Hope could tell that, despite his words, Fortune was troubled. “Where did you get it?” she asked quietly. “Some old pony sold it to me. Kind of a spindly fellow, green in color. When I asked him what it showed, he just kept repeating this bit of gibberish. Now, what was it? Let’s see if I can remember. Ah, yes, it was….” Fortune slipped into his best reciting voice, Truest words are the least often said. How little is true in what is revealed. Trust not, for there is falsehood ahead. Truest truth is the most often concealed. “What does that mean?” Hope asked. Fortune shrugged. “Like I said, gibberish. But now–” He put his hooves on Hope’s shoulders and turned her toward the bookshelves. “–we have work to do.” And so they worked, and worked, and worked. The hours flew by, as did the books. Soon the shelves were bare and the hole behind them visible. As for the books themselves, they were strewn haphazardly across the floor. There were only two books left on the bookshelf, a large black one and a small red one. The black one glowed blue as Hope began to withdraw it. “No, not that one!” Fortune shouted as he jumped up from beneath a pile of books. “Why not?” Hope asked. “Oh, I’m sure there’s nothing in that one! Look at it! How old and dusty it is! I’m certain we have no use for it! Why, I don’t even know why I keep it around! If I donate my library to the poor, that’ll be the first book to go!” Fortune’s voice became more anxious with each sentence. “Fortune,” Hope said sternly. “Why don’t I want to open this book?” Fortune sighed. “Fine. That is the book of… dark magic….” “Oh, I see,” Hope said with a solemn nod. She began to put the book back. But then, quicker than Fortune could keep up with, the book flew down and opened in front of Hope. She swiftly took to reading. “Hope!” Fortune said in alarm. “I just wanted to see what was in it,” Hope said. “But I can’t even read this writing. What is this language?” “One that was extinct long before Equestria came to be,” Fortune said. “As it is, all the information I have on dark magic is there, in that language.” “Can you read it?” Hope asked as she flipped through the pages. She could not make out much, but there were images. And the images, Hope had to admit, were rather troubling. Troubling in that they were bizarre – strange creatures and plants unlike anything Hope had ever seen. Unlike anything that any pony in Equestria had ever seen. “Me? Of course not!” Fortune said. Hope glared at him from over the book, unconvinced. “Then how did you know how to do dark magic last night?” Fortune let out a longer, deeper sigh. “Yes, Hope, I can read it. But before you ask, I won’t. Not for you. Trust me, what’s written in that book isn’t worth reading. It can only do harm.” “But what if there is something about the fire creatures in here?” Hope asked, flipping through a few more pages. “What if there is something that can help us?” Suddenly, however, the blue glow around the book was overwhelmed by a violet one. The book snapped shut, much to Hope’s surprise. As Fortune approached, the book rose and returned to the shelf. “That book has only ever brought harm,” Fortune said. “It’s too dangerous to use.” “How did you get a hold of it?” Hope asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice. “And how did you learn how to read it?” “I had some friends who were into that sort of thing,” Fortune said. “Back when I was studying alchemy, they were studying necromancy and the use of dark magic. I must say, as a student of knowledge in whatever form it came in, I was… intrigued… by their work. They gave me this book and taught me how to use it. But then… let’s just say, bad things happened to them. After that, I stopped using the book. Until last night, that is.” “I’m sorry to hear about your friends,” Hope said. Fortune shrugged. “Well, they probably deserved it. They were huge jerks, now that I think about it.” “They couldn’t have deserved whatever happened to them,” Hope said. “I’m sorry.” Fortune just stared at Hope. “You’re amazing. Do you know that? Even if you knew what happened, you’d probably still think that.” “Probably,” Hope said. There was a moment of silence for lost friends, both those of Fallen Fortune and that of Radiant Hope. “I suppose we should get back to work,” Fortune said at last. Hope nodded. She magically pulled out the other of the last two books on the shelf, the little red one. “No, not that one!” Fortune shouted. “And why not this one?” Hope responded impatiently. “Well, you see, that one’s not really so much for reading as–” Hope did not wait for him to get farther. She floated down the book and opened it. There, in the hollowed-out middle, was a flask. Hope rolled her eyes. “Let’s say it’s decorative,” Fortune said. Hope levitated the bottle up and shook it. There was clearly a liquid of some sort inside. She raised her brows at Fortune. Fortune grabbed hold of the flask. “Decorative and functional.” As he took a sip, there came a noise from outside, underneath the window. Hope perked her ears up. She listened. It was a voice she recognized, the voice of the mayor’s messenger. And he was calling, quite frantically, “Your Highness! Your Highness!” “Does this window open?” Hope asked Fortune as she hurried toward it. “There’s a latch underneath,” Fortune responded. Hope opened the window and leaned out. “Your Highness,” the messenger said, “the mayor told me you might still be here. There’s been several more outbreaks of plague.” “I understand,” Hope said. “I’m coming.” She withdrew from the window and looked to Fortune. “Go,” Fortune said. “I’ll stay here and go through all the books again. Maybe I can find something we missed.” “You have to do it all by midnight,” Hope said. “Don’t worry. I can actually be very productive when I want to be. I just don’t often want to be.” Her eyes drifted from Fortune to the black book on the shelf. “No, Hope,” Fortune said, without even needing to look. “We can’t use that.” “But ponies’ lives are on the line!” Hope protested. “No.” “Can’t you at least look through it and see if there is any information that could help us? You don’t have to use it if there isn’t. But we just can’t let ponies die! Please!” Fortune nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I will. But I don’t expect that anything there will be the least bit of help.” “Just look,” Hope said. “We need to try everything.” Without waiting for another word, she enveloped herself in an orb of blue. There was a flash and Radiant Hope was gone. “With a spell like that,” Fallen Fortune said once Hope was gone, “why does she even bother walking?" Well, time to be productive, Fortune thought. He looked at the books scattered around him and picked up the nearest one. It was little and red, but it was only as Fortune began to leaf through it, that he realized what it was. Fortune lifted the flask out from the book's center and considered it thoughtfully. No reason not to be both productive and comfortable. Would Fallen Fortune find an answer before midnight? Read on.