WARNING: This chapters contain semi-graphic descriptions of death, autopsies, and the like.
The first time Marjoram snuck off into the edge of the Everfree Forest to try casting dark spells, many of which were too illegal to risk casting in the middle of Ponyville, the vestiges of winter still clung to Equestria. Snow still covered the ground, the wind was bitterly cold, and Marjoram wished that he could head back inside the moment he’d left the library.
However, he needed to learn, and this was the only way to put any theories into practice. At least without him potentially hurting anypony or anything. As much as the winter weather didn’t agree with his body, he needed to do this. He needed to begin his studying, to prove to Celestia that he could still do what was expected of him.
Marjoram also needed to prove to himself that he could manage this new magic. For himself, and his family, he would learn to control it and turn it into a tool to be used.
Marjoram had practised for nearly almost forty-five before heading back to the library, shivering with cold and barely able to breathe. Despite the fifteen-minute long lecture he’d received from Twilight after coming back, he still wore a crooked smile.
The second time, just after Winter Wrap Up, Marjoram tried to increase his endurance when using his newfound magic. He lasted an hour and five minutes, and had been forced to sit in a shadow of a tree, too weak to move for nearly another half an hour.
Marjoram hated to admit it to himself, but the illegality of the spells made them so much more interesting to cast. While his knowledge grew, he tried to keep Twilight away from his growing library of ‘dark books’. If she knew what he was doing, everything from scrying to trying to use balefire, would break her heart.
After the second time, Marjoram tried to make it to the Everfree forest at least twice a week, pouring every ounce of effort and energy into testing the theories he came up with, and the theories that had been proposed in his books. Correspondence with Celestia was quick, and concise, always written by Marjoram himself rather than being dictated for Spike.
The last vestiges of winter had fallen overnight, and Marjoram was suddenly flooded with calls from villages and towns around Ponyville; needing his help in trying to determine the causes of death of a dozen ponies. Six had died in a freak carriage accident; one had been found in his home dead, died of some drug that the local hospital couldn’t test for; two had been fished out of a river, one had swallowed a bottle of pills, and two had been murdered in Manehatten. In all cases, the police wanted the autopsies as soon as possible, which forced Marjoram into a week of frenzied work.
(LINE BREAK)
Monday:
Marjoram stared down at the row of bodies lined up to go into his cool storage, wondering why in the wide world of Equestria any of them would have agreed to climb into a two-pony carriage with four others with only one puller.
Sweeping his mane into a bun at the nape of his neck with his magic, Marjoram put on his scrubs, mask and coat. He magically put all of the bodies but one into the cool storage, and pulled out his voice recorder.
“The first victim is female, pale pink coat with purple mane and tail. Cutie Mark is a bunch of music notes surrounded by a quill and piece of parchment. Her family identified her as Peachy Music. I don’t see any major trauma to the body or head, just a few lacerations around the hind left leg near the fetlock.”
Marjoram hooked the recorder to a piece of metal on the ceiling, made for the specific purpose of holding the recorder. Marjoram moved the instrument table closer to the body, and Marjoram used his magic to move the body so it was on its back.
Lifting his scalpel, Marjoram prepared himself for the job ahead.
Nearly an hour later, after having made a good amount of progress, Marjoram heard the front door open. Thankfully, the second door into the room where he actually performed the autopsies had a sign that said he was working-
The door opened before Marjoram could yell he was busy. Marjoram froze, looking up with wide eyes from the body that had been cut into. Blood stained the table, his clothes, and the floor. A large portion of Peachy Music’s ribcage lay beside her so Marjoram could examine the internal organs.
Out of everypony Marjoram expected to just waltz into the room while ignoring the side, Apple Bloom and her two friends weren’t even included on the list. The white one (Rarity’s sister?) burst into tears, and ran out of the room, dry-heaving hard. Apple Bloom’s face had turned green, and she was backing out of the room while trying to simultaneously look at anything other than the gory sight ahead of her.
The orange one, the pegasus, looked as shocked and disgusted as her friends, but her eyes were glued to the sight in front of her.
Lashing out with his magic, Marjoram pushed the fillies out of the room, and slammed the door shut once they were out of harm’s way. Heart pounding, Marjoram cast a stasis spell over the body, and slipped out of all the protective equipment that wasn’t coated in blood.
Racing out of the room, he found the front door standing open on its hinges, a sizable puddle of puke beside the door, and the sight of the three fillies running down the street screaming. Heart sinking into his hooves, Marjoram shut the front door, and retreated into the autopsy room. He locked the door with magic, and hoped nopony else would distract him.
He worked well past midnight, the light streaming from his windows telling anypony who came to vandalize his building that he was still there. He kept one solitary light on, even when he laid down in the cot in his office, trying to slip into sleep that would escape him the entire night.
Tuesday:
Marjoram had been expecting public outcry. He hadn’t expected Applejack breaking down his door at six in the morning, Rarity hot on her heels, and half the population of Ponyville following. For a brief moment, hyper-realistic images of being lynched flashed before his mind’s eye.
Marjoram had been dragged out of the office by force, his mind cloudy and slow from exhaustion and worry. He allowed Applejack to force him through the now-hostile streets of Ponyville, stumbling and coughing as he went. When he was shoved into Town Hall, he hadn’t expected the sight of Twilight, Spike, Apple Bloom and her friends, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash.
Applejack stopped pushing/dragging/carrying Marjoram along, allowing him to collapse to the hardwood floor.
The three girls looked horribly frightened, and looked like they hadn’t slept much during the night. Despite Marjoram’s lack of empathy and caring for ponies, he knew how scarring seeing a dead pony could be for those not prepared, much less walking into an autopsy midway through. He had seen enough ponies break down at the sight of their dead loved ones, especially when the body had been mutilated or damaged before death.
What the girls had witnessed was much worse, made all the worse by the knowledge that Marjoram had been doing it on purpose.
“What happened?” Twilight asked cautiously, her eyes ringed with dark circles. She hadn’t slept either.
Marjoram opened his mouth, now that he had enough air to talk, but Applejack stomped the hardwood floor, cutting him off.
“Damnit, Twilight! We know what happened!”
“We know what the girls told us,” Twilight corrected gently, “They’re traumatized, and scared. They might not have all the information-”
“We saw him cutting up a body!” Rarity’s sister cried, causing Marjoram to wince.
Twilight sighed, “Girls, he’s a mortician-”
“I don’t care what he is!” Applejack exclaimed, “Why was he working with the door open!?”
“I wasn’t,” Marjoram snapped, bringing himself to his hooves so he could look down at Applejack. He preferred to use his height to his advantage if possible,“They had to get through two closed doors. One of which had a sign that said I was working. Everypony knows what I do, I figured I didn’t need to lock the inner door if the sign was up-”
“Clearly you figured wrong!” Rainbow jumped in, catching Marjoram’s attention.
“Clearly,” Marjoram said scathingly, full of self-deprecating dryness, “This is all my fault. I had a sign up, and I know I told Twilight what I would be doing. She tells the rest of you, does she not?”
There was a momentary pause, then reluctant nodding, “Apple Bloom is your sister, isn’t she Applejack? I apologize Rarity, but I don’t know your sister’s name-”
“Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo is-”
“Not related to anypony,” Twilight glared at Rainbow, “She’s very close to Rainbow.”
Marjoram nodded, mentally making a note of that information, “I figured between the six of you, everypony would know to stay away from my workplace. Were these fillies not told what I do for a living?”
Applejack looked at the ground, momentarily ashamed. Then, the anger came back to a boiling point. She got as close to Marjoram as she could craning up to look at him in the eye, “You better not be blaming us for this!”
“I’m not blaming anypony,” Marjoram replied simply, meeting Applejack’s gaze coolly, “I am simply asking questions as to why these girls weren’t warned beforehand-”
“You should lock your doors!” Rarity said, stepping around Applejack so she could be seen, “I thought everypony practising your barbaric work would have learned that after Luna Bay-” Rarity suddenly broke off, her hoof covering her mouth in surprise after her own words.
Marjoram’s shoulders slumped, his eyes wide and momentarily filled with shock. Then, like block of marble, Marjoram stiffened back up. His eyes became like gilt mirrors, showing nothing of his inner thoughts or feelings, only reflecting anything they looked upon. His mouth set into a grim line.
Spike tugged on Twilight’s mane, quietly he asked; “What happened at Luna Bay?”
“It was where Equestria’s School of Mortuary Work was,” Marjoram replied quietly, his voice hollow, “Around thirty-five years ago. Vanhoover called for a ‘necromancer hunt’ and killed everypony there in their panic. Thirty adolescents, ten adults, and several morticians were there when the school was torn down. Nopony knows how many ponies were still alive when it collapsed.”
“It was the last school in Equestria for anything relating to the dead,” Twilight explained, “The ponies suffered from a bad harvest and a drought-”
“That’s enough, Twilight,” Marjoram interrupted, “Clearly, I’m a threat. Something less than everypony else here,” Marjoram’s lips curled into a cruel smile, “Just because of what I do.”
Spike was tugging on Twilight’s mane with more ferocity, while the others seemed mostly speechless. Spike was whispering at Twilight, trying desperately to catch her attention to tell her something.
Marjoram turned his eerie gaze to Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo, who looked confused and worried, “I apologize girls. Some of the blame does rest on my shoulders. You should never have seen something like this, and I apologize for my role in allowing that to happen.”
Marjoram closed his eyes briefly, allowing a touch of his fragility to come to the surface. A moment later, and the vulnerability was gone. Marjoram straightened, and looked everypony in the eye one at a time.
“I suppose this is the end of my stay here in Ponyville?”
“Twilight!” Spike yelled. Everypony turned to look at the little purple dragon.
The room was suddenly silent, other than the heavy breathing of those who had been fighting, and the occasional sob from Sweetie Belle.
“Yes, Spike?” Twilight asked cautiously.
“This is getting out of hoof,” Spike stated, “And it’s not good. Look outside, everypony is staring!”
Looking through one of the open windows revealed that indeed, ponies were crowding around, trying to listen and watch what was going on.
Marjoram looked at the judgemental eyes of the ponies of Ponyville, and nodded, “I agree, Spike. Do you have anything to add.”
“Well...I know you’re really cautious around me and Twilight,” Spike began slowly, “And you clearly didn’t mean for this to happen...Um...can we talk to Mayor Mare? Maybe we can figure something out.”
“What kind of something?” Applejack asked.
“I..uh, I don’t-” Spike sputtered for a moment, then sighed, “Maybe do something in repayment? Like helping them with their treehouse? Or..um paying them something?”
Marjoram blinked, then looked at Applejack and Rarity, “What do you think?”
Rarity looked pensive, and Applejack looked cautiously optimistic. The crowd outside gave out a collective sigh; whether it was of disappointment or relief Marjoram didn’t know, and seemed to disperse.
“Girls? What do you think?” Twilight asked, “Payment or help?”
There was a pause where Marjoram wasn’t sure the girl were even going to accept anything, much less help settle the dispute. Sweetie Belle, who had stopped crying sometime during Spike’s speech, looked to Rarity, then Spike, then Marjoram.
“I-I don’t know,” Sweetie Belle’s voice was hoarse and raspy, made so by all the crying. She turned to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, “Girls?”
Apple Bloom looked up at Marjoram, her eyes tired looking. After a moment, she nodded minutely to herself, “Could you help with the clubhouse?”
Sweetie Belle looked scared again, but after a stern look from Apple Bloom, tried to keep her face in a more neutral mask.
Scootaloo nodded weakly in agreement, “Yeah...sure..Please?”
Marjoram nodded, “Alright then, if that’s what you fillies want. I’ll let Applejack fill me in on the details of where your clubhouse needs. I can meet you tomorrow after school-”
“That’s fine!” Sweetie Belle squeaked, “C-can we go now?”
“You girls head on back home,” Applejack intoned, “Y’all need some rest I reckon.”
“So does everypony else!” Pinkie pie exclaimed, “You guys all look awful!”
Marjoram rolled his eyes, but began to plod out of the room, his head downcast and his eyes half-lidded against the early-morning sun.
What a way to start off the week.