It was growing darker now. Night was coming on. But Luna was slow at bringing the moon up tonight, for some reason. So the sky was cast in the reddish hue of twilight. Hope remembered the last time she had seen such a twilight. The twilight of the Crystal Empire had been such a twilight.
Hope looked at Wood Chip, once again asleep. He had awoken earlier, and Hope had read to him, as promised. But she had to default on the lollypop, since she had never left his side to get it. Hope would have asked Fallen Fortune to swing by the inn and take one from her saddlebags, had he ever returned. Which he did not. Hope did not know if she had really expected him to. So, in lieu of payment, Hope had agreed to play with Wood Chip until he got himself tired once more and collapsed into bed.
It had been fun. It had just been like being a foal again herself. For an hour or two, Hope had been able to pretend like none of it had happened, not with Sombra, not with the Crystal Empire, not with Whinnysburg and the plague, and not with Wood Chip. He had seemed like such a happy, energetic pony that it would have been hard to believe that he still carried the fatal infection, the fatal presence within him.
But Hope knew better. And now that Wood Chip was asleep, she could think of nothing else. She sat beside him, looking out the window at the slowly setting sun. In just a few hours, she knew what would happen. She could not let herself think about it, and yet she could not stop thinking about it. And worst of all, she did not know how to stop it.
If she lost Wood Chip, Hope did not know how she would go on. It would be like losing Sombra all over again. Hope knew that she didn’t lose Sombra that fateful night. She had already lost him. She lost him slowly, as he suffered in silence, unable to open up to her for reasons she could not even begin to guess at.
If Sombra had become a monster like everypony kept telling her, Hope knew that it was because that sweet, innocent, shy little pony had been made a monster by… by something….
Now, something else was trying to destroy another sweet, innocent pony’s childhood. And Hope knew she could not stand by and let that happen. That would probably break her completely. She had come close before, but had always pulled herself back. This time, she was not so sure. Maybe not even the thought of Sombra could save her.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
That must have been why they did it. That must have been why they chose him. They did it because I told them, “I am Radiant Hope still.” Radiant Hope is precisely what they want to destroy. Not to kill me, but to destroy whatever sense of who I am I still have.
Fortune had never returned. It was getting late, and hope was growing dimmer every hour. There was no mirror for her to look in, but Hope was certain that she was growing dimmer every hour.
There was only one thing left to do.
Radiant Hope wondered if she had the strength, the resolve. She looked inside herself.
Yes, she could do it. She would do it, no matter the cost.
Hope leaned in, toward Wood Chip’s throat. Magically, she lifted the ends of his pillow so that it covered his ears. Then she spoke.
“I know you’re in there,” she said, as firmly as she could in such a quiet tone. “I know why you’re doing this. You’re doing this to punish me. Fine. Just, when it happens tonight…. When you do what you’re going to do…. Don’t start without me. You and all your friends are going to want to come around. Because it ends tonight. It either has to be you or me. I won’t run anymore. Whatever happens, it ends.”
Hope thought, for brief moment, that she heard a raspy voice from inside Wood Chip’s throat whisper, “Agreed.”
Hope’s horn lit up. She hated to leave Wood Chip like this, but it was absolutely necessary. And Hope would do whatever was necessary. In a flash, she was gone.
Fortune felt himself growing tired as he pored over book after book. He had read through them all forwards and backwards several times each. And he had found nothing. Fortune looked up to the bookshelf, up to the one book he would not look through, the book he dared not look through. He shuddered.
Am I doing the right thing? he asked himself.
As if to answer him, there was a knock on the window. Well, not so much of a knock, as a large bang. Fortune’s head shot up from the book he had been reading. He listened, wondering what could have caused it.
Maybe it’s just my imagination playing tricks on me, he thought. Been hitting the books too hard….
And then there was the second, much louder bang. The sound of it nearly knocked Fortune from the chair beside his desk. He fell to the ground and, in a panic, quickly crawled over to the window.
Looking below him, he saw Radiant Hope. And she was levitating a stone. A very large stone. Under certain circumstances, it might even have qualified as a very small boulder.
Oh, no, she must be furious with me! Fortune thought. She’s going to seriously injure me!
He unlatched and opened the window. Without putting his head into view, he called out, “Hope, Hope, what are you doing? Do you know how much this window cost to put in? And that’s not even getting into the price of glass!”
Fortune expected that Hope would really tear into him now. He prepared himself for it, dropping down and huddling beneath the window, forelegs over his head.
But when Hope spoke, there was no anger in her voice. “I was just trying to get your attention, silly. Can I come up?”
Is it a trick? Fortune asked himself. Is she just doing this to lure me into a false sense of security? When she gets up here, is she going to make me regret it?
Fortune realized that the answer may well be yes. He also realized that it was still preferable to what Hope might do if he didn’t let her in.
“Come on up,” he said nervously. “You know that I’d never block you from my study!”
There was a pop, and Hope was there. Fortune leapt up at the suddenness of her appearance, hitting his head on the latch of the window as he did so. Pain shot through his head. But that pain was secondary to the fear he felt as he apprehensively watched the crystal pony, watched her for any signs of hostile intent.
“Now, Hope, I know I said I’d be back! And I will be! I’m just–”
“I know how hard you’re working,” Hope said softly. “And I thought you might need a break. So I brought you a little something to help you relax….”
There was kindness, friendliness, playfulness in her voice. All of these, Fortune had heard before. But he also detected something new.
Hope levitated up two tankards beside her. Two tankards with small, metal lids.
“It’s something new at the inn,” she said. “They’re calling them ‘to-go cups.’”
Fortune stood up, rubbing his head. “The mayor certainly acted quickly on that one. I guess she really doesn’t have anything else to do since losing so many townsfolk.”
“Oh, come on,” Hope said, forcing a tankard upon him. “Let’s not talk about such morbid things right now. I need a rest from that. So do you. How about we rest together?”
With a start, Fortune realized what that ‘something new’ in Hope’s voice was. “Wait, Hope, wait! Are you saying what I think you're saying?”
Hope shrugged playfully. Her eyes narrowed and a smirk appeared on her face. “Well, if the whole town thinks so....”
“But, Hope, now? What with the plague and with your young friend and–”
Hope touched Fortune's chin. “I told you, I need a break from all that. Besides, there’s nothing I can do for him. You were right. I can’t help him. I can’t get Sombra back. So why should I keep denying it to myself?”
Fortune shook his head slowly. His jaw began to drop. “Hope… this doesn’t sound like you!”
Hope circled Fortune, brushing her body up against his. "What? Don't you like it?"
Fortune fought hard to maintain his composure. “No, it's just... this doesn't feel right....”
“Oh, who cares about right and wrong anymore?” Hope said, taking a sip from the other tankard.
Fortune managed a small, “I do….” but he didn’t think Hope heard. She certainly acted like she didn’t hear.
“Besides,” she said, clinking her tankard against his, “can you really let all this cider go to waste?”
She had him there. Fortune knew he could not….
The rest of the night was a blur for Fortune. He drank the cider. He could tell that it was that particular specialty of the local innkeeper, the one that gave a pony a buzz – and much more than a buzz – near instantly. It worked its magic on Fallen Fortune. Immediately, all became darkness.
Darkness punctuated by periodic bursts of light. In one, he felt himself unable to stand and collapsed into his chair. In another, he saw Hope remove a book from the bookshelf, a big, black book.
In yet another, he saw nothing, but heard Hope’s voice. “I’d really love to finally be able to do that spell you did the night you saved me. What was it? Was it this one? It was this one, wasn’t it?”
Fortune felt himself nod.
Then he saw Hope again. She was before him, on her haunches, pressing the book into his lap. She had that look in her eyes, the pleading look.
He could not resist.
“Teach it to me,” she said.
Something in the back of his mind told him not to. Something distant, foggy. What was it? Fortune, in his current state, could not begin to say. It was an annoyance, that was all.
Hope pressed the book on him again. It was open to a certain page, a page that looked rather familiar. Fortune could not remember why. But he remembered the spell written on it.
He began to speak. Then, something stopped him. That nagging feeling again. What was that?
“Go on, please,” came Hope’s voice. It was warm, soothing, encouraging.
He could not resist.
Then, everything was darkness….
Did Radiant Hope unlock the secrets of dark magic?
Read on.