Canterlot, the famed Jewel of Equestria, but just another cesspool of liars and thieves, like the rest of this sun damned kingdom. Here the liars might be powerful and wealthy and strutting about all legitimate, but I know what you really are. Heading them all is the queen of liars, Princess Celestia, pretending to be their benevolent and eternal ruler while in reality just a greedy mare who played the game. My sisters and brothers are gathering, sharpening their fangs on the bones of the fallen as we prepare to strike. Our true princesses’s sacrifice shall not be in vain.
Excerpt from Bloodthorn’s log, third vampony commander of the Lunar force.
Pinkamena awoke to the loud buzzing of her alarm. She slammed her hoof down, effecting silencing it, before slipping out of bed. She carefully traipsed through the maze of sheet music, Musical instruments, paints, paintings, poems, novels, and emptied bottles of ink that made up her home, to reach the armoire. The armoire had been hoof made by Pinkamena herself, and it was quite impressive in a borderline terrifying way. The main part of it was the dark wood that grew in the Everfree but the panels were of the more reddish toned trees in the crossover between the Everfree and Whitetail woods. The panels depicted thousands of faces, all in near perfect detail, some she had seen before, others she’d only dreamt of. Great thorny vines entwined the heads. The handles were carved to look like twin sea serpents.
Pinkamena gave the small smile she always did when viewing her work before opening the door. From inside she withdrew a creamy wool sweater and a gray blue beret.
After she put it on , Pinkamena stopped at the vanity, which was a simple shelf, although overly carved with stars and vines, and a mirror engraved with prancing manticores, flying griffons, and howling timberwolves. She carefully brushed her mane, ensuring that its sleek style wasn’t disrupted, before replacing the beret.
Satisfied that she looked well enough to head out, Pinkamena brought along some bits to buy some food at work.
The streets of Ponyville were empty, the majority of the residents likely taking advantage of the Sunday to sleep in. Pinkamena had no such luck, she was a service worker after all.
She was quite surprised when she saw Rarity pulling a cart, for several reasons.
One, Rarity often complained of a lack of beauty sleep and it was unlikely she’d be up this early, and two, Rarity was smiling under inches of grime.
The mare was dressed in warm clothes, her hooves in boots and a minute amount of rock cuts and crush precious stone were ingrained on her soles, she had likely been out in the gem fields.
“Pinkamena, how are you?” Rarity gave her a kind smile.
“Good, I notice you’ve been out in the gem fields, likely collecting supplies for the Equinox Festival?” Pinkamena replied in her monotone voice.
Rarity blushed. “You got me.”
“Hmmm, is that alexandrite?” She questioned
“Actually, yes, I managed to find some, quite lucky really.”
Pinkamena nodded. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” She trotted off, making a mental note to visit Rarity’s stall during the festival, it would be interesting to see what a fellow artist could use the unique stone for.
The Java Cafe stood across from Sugar Cube Corner. Inside were cushioned chairs and modern wooden tables and the constant noise of smooth jazz playing from an old record player.
The proprietor, Java, was wiping down tables, she looked up and smiled at Pinkamena. “Pinkamena, thanks for taking the early shift, Cappuccino is busy too busy sneezing his brains out.” Java looked fairly similar to Pinkamena, as long as one did not count coloration, for while Java had rich brown hair and a golden coat with green eyes, Pinkamena was shades of pink with bright blue peepers.
“No problem, is Latte here?” Latte was Java’s younger sister and Cappuccino’s twin. “I didn’t have time for breakfast so I brought some bits to buy some here.” She elaborated.
“Ah, she’s in the back.” Java pointed a hoof, before getting back to tidying up before the midmorning rush.
In the back kitchen where the pastries were baked, a cream coated mare with bushy waves tied mainly back in a ponytail, excluding a few strands, was removing a tray of hot buns from the oven, cursing as she did so. “Damn brother, gotta check the fuc…”
“Hey Latte, how are you?” Pinkamena interrupted, preventing a spew of foul words.
The mare turned, golden eyes lightening up when she saw her friend. “Better now,” she levitated the tray down on the counter before beginning to pry the buns off.
“Do you need help?” Pinkamena asked.
“Nah, Tea Leaf might though, she got a new order of Assam today and she’s freaking out for someone reason.” Latte tucked a milky brown strand of hair back from her face and then pointed to the storage room where her cousin was.
A slew of curses, far worse than what Latte had said, confirmed the unicorn’s words, and caused Pinkamena to see what was the matter.
“Tea Leaf?” She questioned, hoping to prevent an incident.
“Hey Pink, guess what? Some nitwit messed up our order, we don’t have Assam, we have gutter tea, the kind of swill that one only brews when there’s nothing, including the toilet water.” The mint green maned mare moaned.
“Oh,” Pinkamena couldn’t really think of anything to say to that, she just stared at the pale green coated unicorn.
“Just go, I’ll try to fix this, the rush is in an hour, I’ve got time.
Pinkamena nodded, still worried about what kind of tea could be so awful that the No-Tea-Is-Bad-You’re-Just-Crazy Tea Leaf would complain about.
***
Rainbow Dash scowled as a hoof shook her awake. “Go away!”
“No, you have to get up!” Her husband’s voice was firm and resolute.
“I don’t want to!” She shot back.
He didn’t respond, instead yanking the covers back, and, when she curled in a ball to conserve warmth, pulling her out of bed.
“That’s a low down trick, and you know it Soarin!”
Her husband responded by brutally tickling her until she was on the floor laughing.
“I’ll, huh, get, huh, you, huh, for, huh, this.” She huffed out.
When she caught her breath she almost sucker punched him, but decided against, there were more devious ways to get revenge.
“Come one, we have to get ready you know,” Soarin held out a hoof to help her up.
Rainbow accepted, but still shot him a glare for the violation of the no tickling agreement.
She made her way to the bathroom, ignoring the very large mess of pie tins that meant Soarin had finally caved on his diet, he’d last longer than she thought he would.
Once in the bathroom, she began the laborious task of preening. Not the once a week clean her wings, but the suds row wings up before rinsing off, getting each feather in perfect order before, rubbing a scented wax on them to keep them shiny and smelling good. She was just glad she’d had the foresight to take a shower last night, otherwise Rainbow knew this would take much longer.
After her wings were finished, Rainbow checked her hooves, thankfully the polish wasn’t chipped. Then she brushed her mane until it was sleek.
“Finished!” She called.
“About damn time, you’re slower than usual today!” Soarin complained.
She just rolled her eyes and sauntered out. From the closet Rainbow withdrew a neat dress in a red that looked professional while still making sure her wild side was known. She then took on the laborious process of fixing her hair so it didn’t look like she’d hacked it away with crazy scissors. Soarin exited just as she finished, his blue blazer bringing out his eyes.
She gave him a peck on the cheek. “You ready, they’ll mob us out there. The two youngest Wonderbolts in history, married and recently put back on reserve to spend more time together as well as writing the best selling book series, The Wonderbolts Chronicles.”
Soarin chuckled, “Honey, nothing terrifies me more than when a few guys attempted to mug me and you beat them into a coma.”
“Almost a coma, and, legally, that never happened, because it would be awkward to try and press charges against a national icon in clear self defense.” She huffed.
He just smiled.
The flash of light bulbs as they left their Canterlot home was blinding, but the pair was used to it by now so they just smiled and waved, hoping no one would notice the near murderous glint in their eyes.
The carriage waiting for them pulled away before Soarin even shut the door, speeding off from the reporters. “Damn reporters, practically parasites.” Rainbow Dash cursed, to the agreement of Soarin.
“I know what you mean love, at least this radio show will be with Marigold, she’s a good enough sort. Mornings With Marigold never seem like the vulture esque reporting of the tabloids or Canterlot Times, eh?” Rainbow rolled her eyes but kissed him all the same.
***
Rarity gave a little sigh as Sweetie Belle jumped up and down, mumbling all about earning her cutie mark and such.
“Sweetie Belle, do be quiet dear, this is delicate work.”
Sweetie Belle just groaned, “But Rarity,” she started.
“No buts dear, I love you, but if I can’t afford to finish off the mortgage on this house, we’ll be out on the streets and I can’t do that to you.” Her voice was calming enough that Sweetie Belle nodded along.
“I’ll go play with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom until you’re finished!” She cheerfully replied, cantering out the door.
“Be careful!” Rarity just hoped she’d listen for once.
‘Alexandrite was a tough jewel to work with for rune crafting.’ Rarity mused. While it did have certain properties that leant it to the art, the gem itself did not mold easily with magic, and it was a 8.5 hardness, which meant it took more force to chip away at. It was, however, valuable as it easily stored energy, making it invaluable for rune crafting just the same.
Rarity knew she had gotten lucky, finding a large block of it in the gem fields. The Equinox Festivalhad a series of booths where she could showcase her work and having something most rune crafters couldn’t do on display would surely bring in customers.
She began to chip away the edges of a disc shaped piece until it was symmetrical. Then came the rune scratching, delicate work, have to know just where the magic will flow and which directions so that she could properly set up a runic set.
When she’d finally finished, Rarity carefully polished it with a cleaning rag until it gleamed green in the sun, perhaps her luck would finally shape up. Carefully setting it in a ring of gold and attaching a fine chain, she draped it on one of the mannequin head’s neck.
***
Applejack groaned under the weight of her bags, each stuffed with herbs. The Everfree Forest was a positive treasury of rare herbs and medicinal plants. She made sure to avoid all paths leading from Ponyville, the vivid memory of a thrown tomatoes sinking into her coat dissuading her from any attempts to scour those parts of the woods for herbs.
The wind was stronger farther from the edges of the forest, a byproduct of the strange weather of the Everfree. Applejack gripped her cloak tighter, clutching at the worn fabric.
The dewdrop flower was well known only for its obscurity, it grew only in the inner Everfree and had achieved quite a place in pop culture. The zebras knew of it, as one of their alchemists had deemed it a fine substitute for several even rare potion supplies.
Zecora had instructed her on the harvesting of the flower, one had to take great care not break off the petals.
While perhaps not as volatile when in contact with flame as say the volo leaf, the sap in the petals did not do well when directed added to potions. Each flower was carefully stowed in the saddlebags, which now resembled those of a flower peddler.
She made her way back to the hut she shared with her mentor, carefully avoiding the manticore dens and timberwolf hunting grounds
The twisted tree in front of her certainly stood out, the decorative masks from Zecora’s homeland and the illumination from the half melted candles slumping in their own piles of wax gave it a comforting feeling to Applejack, although perhaps one who had grew up here was not the best example.
The door was well made, Applejack felt no small amount of pride as she stared at the strong entry she herself had built. She unlocked the complex lock with learned ease and sidled in. Inside the hut was made from well polished wood, with a staircase spiraling both up and down.
There was another door leading off from the mainroom, half hidden behind a pile of aconite. Several cauldrons lay stacked within each other by the long table to jutted out from the left wall. Zecora was in the middle, balancing on her head on a bamboo staff.
“Ahh, my student, what brings you back so soon?” Zecora asked in her native tongue before switching to balance on one of her hooves.
Applejack herself answered in common Equestrian, “I found all the ingredients we needed and felt it would be best not to push our luck and intrude on Ponyville.”
Zecora nodded, and than switched her language to Yaka, the language of the yaks. “Ahh, I see, how is Apple Bloom?”
Applejack gave an almost imperceptible wince at the reminder of the sister that thought her dead. She responded in Prench, “Good, she’s made friends.”
“Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, you’ve told me this.” Zecora reminded her in Germane.
“Ahh, I have haven’t I, oh well.” Applejack said in one of the less common griffin dialects.
“Indeed student of mine, perhaps your memory as been less than sublime.” Zecora switched back to Equestrian.
“Probably, but it has always slipped a bit when it comes to family,” her expression darkened, “I didn’t notice my brother for the no good traitor he was after all.”
“Perhaps, though it does us no good to argue on days since past. In other news, you’ve reached you next level of training at last.” Zecora smiled.
Applejack grinned at that, Zecora had become a mistress of many kinds of magic during her journey here, and, combining that with her zebra teachings, was instructing her on how to use her innate magic. She had promised when Applejack was ready, she’d teach her the art of alchemy, and the mare had patiently waited.
“Now, I will be instructing you in the most ancient tongue of the zebras, Zebric, as you’ve been lax in your studies of it and most texts on Alchemy will be written in it. Alchemy was once thought to be very similar to the innate magic of other species and considered something only zebras could do. This was proven false by the first earth pony potion master, Green Leaf. Alchemy is the art of transmutation, and is practiced through rituals. Alchemy cannot create without taking, this is otherwise known as the rule of equivalent exchange. I will warn you, it takes time and practice and, unlike your innate magic, you have to start from scratch.”
Applejack nodded, this should be fun.
***
Fluttershy smiled up at North Wind. North wasn’t like the other stallions, that attempted to bed her, he respected her feelings. They had yet to take it any farther than a few prench kisses, and he was willing to wait until she was ready.
“Fluttershy, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” He started, an almost sheepish look on his face.
“Yes?” Fluttershy warmly smiled at him.
North took a death breath. “I love you, I really do. But lately you’ve been throwing yourself into all your charity work and it’s hurting you. You’ve barely slept in the past week, I know you’re concealing bags under your eyes darling. You’ve forgotten to eat or drink and this is the first real date we’ve had in months.” He sighed. “I can’t deal with the mare I love so much hurting herself in this way. I’m going to have to ask you to either give up your charity work, or, break up with me.” A tear had leaked out from his eye.
“But, I can’t!” She almost shouted, wincing as the rest of the restaurant gave their table a glance. “Do you remember they story I told you, about how that one bully purposefully rammed into me and snapped my wing?” She raised the appendage while speaking. North nodded. “Well yes, but.”
Fluttershy held up a hoof, “My dad snatched me up from Flight Camp in an instance, suing the colt for damage and getting him and his friends sent to juvie. They only jobs they could get were at the weather factory. To try and make up for not believing me on how bad I said it was, he took me Manehattan. While there I saw a foal, they were maybe my age, but thin as sticks. Their legs were twigs and I could count their ribs. I vowed then that I would never let another foal starve like that. Which means, I choose work, I’m sorry, I love you but I can’t give this up, not now, not ever.”
He nearly growled, “Then we’re finished” He sat up, Fluttershy paid the check, watching her now ex coltfriend leave.
She managed to make it back to her apartment without crying. It wasn’t easy, the streets of Canterlot now reminded her of North, there was the fountain where they had their first kiss, that was the restaurant where they had their first date. She barged into her apartment and collapsed, sobbing on the floor, barely remembering to close and lock the door behind her.
When she finally ran out of tears, Fluttershy carefully got to her hooves and made it to her bedroom. There she stripped out of her fancy dress and wiped out off her now ruined makeup. Her hair came down from the complicated bun and rested loosely on her shoulders.
“Why North, why?” Fluttershy mumbled, staring blankly at the mirror.
She needed to get drunk and forget all about him.
After a search of the house of alcohol Fluttershy discovered she had none. So instead she did her best to eat through all her ice cream. When her stomach bulged and it hurt to breathe she dropped the container and began to cry again.
***
The train pulled into the station with a hiss. Twilight Sparkle looked up from her book. It was late, the engine had broken down and delayed her trip home, but she was here now. The few ponies in the car with her began to gather their things. Twilight just snorted at their disorganization and levitated her saddlebags back on. Book levitating in front of her, she left.
The night sky was just beginning to show, stars sparkling overhead. The streets of Ponyville were abandoned, ponies asleep behind their unlocked doors, dreaming. Her home, once the Golden Oaks Library, now a lab, was near the center of town, a fair walk away from the station. Opening the door gave brought a smile to her weary face, she was home.
Twilight had spent the last month in Trottingham, where scientists where revolutionizing magic. She stared down at the book in her bag, the reason for her trip.
Two months ago, Twilight had been in the Canterlot Records, searching for spell books to help her on her latest project.
While she’d found them, she also had found several books that appeared to merely be old unicorn logs writing in runic magian.
She’d gotten permission to take them with her, as the guards rarely cared about the books, and had quickly discovered something, these weren’t old logs, they were coded texts.
The code was simple enough for Twilight to break, she was fluent in all versions of magian and most languages in Equestria, and the codes themselves was based off combinations of methods of all three tribes.
The books were journals, one from almost every great mage from Equestria and even some alicorns. It had been Princess Luna’s that had interested her. While Starswirl had focused on taking notes and more basic spell crafting, Luna was a master of magic. Her spell work was brilliant and there were annotations from all the royal students. It had been one topic that caught Twilight’s eye though, a regenerating spell matrix. Spell matrices were able to work multiple spells at once, but they were power hogs. A regenerating spell matrix would feed the power in loops to reuse it and cut down on the cost.
Twilight shook her head, she’d allowed her mind to wander. She needed to get to bed, otherwise who knew how long she would be up, besides, the materials from Trottingham wouldn’t get here until morning, Twilight had learned from experience that stasis spells, which could be delicate, held up better through the mail than through a bumpy train ride.
***
Vinyl Scratch sighed as she crept around in Canterlot’s shadows. For years she’d stayed away from such habits, they were stereotypical of a vampony after all, but she’d finally caved. The small animals in her bag would be suspicious of she was caught with them, but she needed to eat. Her last attempts with blood substitutes hadn’t gone that well, she shuddered slightly at the thought.
When she reached Ocatvia’s place, Vinyl carefully scaled the wall. She would never fly in a crowded city, but by staying out of the light she could utilize some of her other talents. When she reached Tavi’s window, she pulled out her picks and used her teeth to jimmy the lock open.
Ocatvia was oblivious to her, the gray mare always wore ear buds when practicing. Vinyl knew why of course, Ocatvia had been born to an old rock star from Stalliongard and a song write from here in Canterlot. Her parents had pressured her to be a rock star herself, but, while they loved each other, her dad’s high life style clashed with her mother’s sensibilities, and they fought a lot. Ocatvia had instead become a classical musician and was estranged from her parents.
Vinyl flicked away a tear, Ocatvia’s foalhood was a disturbing parallel to her own. She tapped her shoulder.
Ocatvia turned, bow raised, “Vinyl, you scared me, you should know not to do that by now.”
Vinyl shrugged, “You need better security anyways.” She carefully plucked a fat rat from her bag and began to drain it of its plasma. Octavia didn’t shudder, she’d long grown accustomed to Vinyl’s habits.
“Just don’t get it on the carpet.” She reminded the vampony and went back to her music.
Vinyl nodded, even though Ocatvia didn’t show signs of seeing and slumped to the kitchen. Blood cleaned off of tile much easier than carpet.
She hungrily drank, the crimson liquid dripping down and she lapped it all up. When the rat was drained dry, she started on another until her stomach seem to hurt. She lapped up the blood on her muzzle and began to clean the floor, ignoring the hunger in her that wanted to lick it up.
She glanced back at Ocatvia and slipped the rat corpses into her bag.
Vinyl’s room was better than her old place, not holes in the walls or free meals scurrying by. Ocatvia wouldn’t let the vampony live by herself in the slums after all. Still, as she carefully burned each corpse and tossed the ashes, there weren’t as many smokers here, and, since the low rat population of Upper Canterlot made seeing multiple rat corpses in one place strange, she lived in constant fear of somepony discovering her.
She groaned as a sharp pain reminded her to get some rest while her stomach processed the blood. Vinyl curled up and drifted off.
***
Bloodthorn smiled as he felt the other vampony leave. He knew who they where, Vinyl Scratch. Vinyl was fairly young for a vampony, only fifty years, and a member of the neutral Circus de Lune clan. He had meet her once, at a party decades ago, but then she’d still been going by her birth name. He did however distinctly remember a blood wine induced rant on her parents. Both parents had taken advantage of her quietness as a child and imposed their own rules, classical lessons and old fashioned etiquette. It had apparently come to a head during Vinyl’s fourteenth year, her farther had attempted to arrange a marriage. He thought he was doing what was best for her, but she disagreed. In the resulting argument, he fired a silencing spell at her and then convinced her mother that Vinyl had messed up a vocal charm.
The unicorn mare was effectively under the total control of her parents for another year before snapping and running off. She went underground somewhere to get the spell reversed and came up a vampony, how was never quite mention.
A grunt shook Bloodthorn out of his monologue. The bound stallion at his hooves was struggling.
“Don’t bother you pervert, I mean really, your buddies and you attempting to abduct a minor after making certain innuendoes.” The blood red stallion furiously shook his head. “Don’t bother denying it, I can smell lies, and fear, but we both already knew you were afraid.” Bloodthorn bared a fang. “Now, your buddies might have made a good treat,” Bloodthorn’s eyes snaked over to the small fire in which two muscular corpses were burning, leaving behind no evidence of a vampony, “But you’ll be a main course for my mistress. She doesn’t really like you type.”
Hooking his hooves under the stallion’s joint, the pegasus rose up in the air before shooting off at Wonderbolt speed.
“Oh, and did I mention, my mistress is Madame Lamia, I’m sure you’ve heard about her.” The stallion's struggles increased, to no avail, as he thought of what the most feared vampony would do to him. It would not likely be pleasant in the least.
***
The spirit hummed as it, or rather she, banged against the barrier.
That little bitch and her friends may have been able to take me out of commission, but they’ll be long dead when I get out, and I doubt Princess Celestia is powerful enough to take me on without her divine shell.
The barrier between this realm and Equestria was weakening, she could feel it. For centuries she’d been trapped here, away from her sister, alone without her faithful servants. This place was a half formed thought of floating chunks of stone intermingled with streams of a bright pink liquid. Many of the stones had scorch marks and globs of a flesh like substance from the spirit’s attempts to create some form of company. It had been a rather boring one thousand years without it.
The seal is weakening, I really do wonder where it is, and where it will drop me. It would be unpleasant if Celestia had the foresight to place it in the middle of a desert. Still, wherever I appear, the vamponies will help me, and I’ll show the sun loving fools the terror of Nightmare Moon.