Persona MLP: The Nightmare Hour

by Ninestempest

Mortar

* * * Unknown * * *

The sounds of crashing waves awaken me. My eyes open, and before anything else, I’m struck by the color of the room. It’s all a rich, navy blue, with tinges and streaks and hues of violet and mauve seemingly at random. A window on the far wall tells me I’m in a ship cabin, the round opening revealing the night sky beyond the wall; I see a pitch black night, without a single star to be found. I lose my balance for a second as the room rocks forward, another telltale sign of a ship at sea. Once I’ve regained my footing, I glance back around the room again, seeing a few beds, chairs, and such scattered around but little else. How the heck did I wind up on a ship?

I hear somepony clearing their throat, which brings my attention to the center of the room. I somehow didn’t notice the creature sitting before me earlier with his small knee-high table before him, and a tablecloth of similar color to the room draped over it. I don’t recognize the odd creature; it sits with its back against the chair, hunched forward over the table. He has no fur, and his skin is fair, nearly gray, and his hands are folded under his impossibly long nose. His baldness gives him an elderly appearance, and despite his odd features, I can easily make out his smile.

A wave of exhaustion comes over me, leaving me unable to speak. I settle for raising my eyes at him.

He takes it in stride. “Welcome… to the Velvet Room.” Something in his tone makes me shiver, though I can’t quite place it. He continues undaunted. “My name is Igor. This is a room that exists between dreams, and reality… between mind, and matter.”

“Between… realities?” I can’t seem to say much more than two words before my mouth gives out. My head is completely clouded, my thoughts not entirely processing on their own, but more forming in response to Igor. I can barely keep myself standing; it’s like I’ve been doing hard labor for the last two days straight, then had to stay up for two days straight. “How… here…?”

“You are visiting me in your dreams, so you need not worry. You are sound asleep on the train to your destination.” He takes a sip from a cup of tea that I didn’t even notice he had until he picked it up. “Hmm… my, it seems you have quite the fate ahead of you, young unicorn.”

It’s been awhile since someone called me young like that, but I can’t think of a suitable response. I’m struggling not to just fall over asleep. “Why… am I here?” I ask. Four words. In this room, it’s a wonder I get so many words out.

“You have been summoned here by a power greater than yourself,” Igor says. “I do not know how, but your presence here itself demonstrates your importance in the events that are soon to pass. After all, one normally requires a contract to enter here.”

“Contract?”

He reaches under his table and pulls out a black leather folder, then reveals the paper inside it. “Your new home is soon to be embroiled in a conflict, and you’ll need my help if you are to become victorious. For you to continue, you must sign this contract.” I nod, and he continues, “All the contract does is let you return here in the future, which I assure you is of the utmost value to you. There are no terms here, as it appears that you will be setting them in the future with someone else. All I need… is for you to tell me your name.”

I grab the contract in my magic and bring it closer to read. I find the words unreadable, but this doesn’t concern me for some reason. Shrugging, I say my name.

“Cornerstone.”

The folder slams shut, and returns to Igor, taken out of my levitation by some invisible force.

“Yes, very good. I sense you waking up, so I won’t keep you any longer. The next time you come, I suspect it’ll be of your own volition.”

My eyelids grow heavy, and slowly, the world fades to black. The sounds become silence.

* * * Mon 3/18 Afternoon * * *

I wake up to the train quietly rumbling along the tracks. I rub my eyes a bit, hoping I can scrape off some of my exhaustion as well. After waking up fully, I find the memories of my dream invading my thoughts, and for some reason, they immediately seem real to me. I usually find dreams to be obviously odd and closer to some kind of crazy movie, but something about that “velvet room” made it seem like I was right there. After a few moments of analyzing my memories, I come to the conclusion that I can’t do anything as of yet. I don’t know how to get back, and I don’t know what conflict he spoke of, and push the thoughts to the back of mind.

I glance about the train car. There’s only one other pony now: a unicorn mare with a mint-green coat and short, white mane. Her gaze is glued to the window as if captivated by the passing scenery, so I too take a glance outside, having slept through most of my ride.

My jaw drops. Growing up in Canterlot and never once leaving the city, a pony becomes drowned in the marble scenery and brick housing, leaving the opportunities to see nature at work rare at best, merely a distant painting lacking in detail and focus. But here, the snow extends like a still ocean, waves of shining white covering the landscape. In the distance I see a wall of fully grown trees, dark, imposing, marking out the forest’s territory like a fortress, the treetops still caked in snow, only adding to the colors that shimmer in the sunlight. And then my eyes fall onto Ponyville, and I feel happier than I had felt in years. The country style homes, and all the wide open areas are in plain view. The market is visible from here, even during winter! My heart just soars at seeing the small town.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The greeting startles me and I spin around to face it, slamming one of my forelegs into the side of my seat. I let out a yelp, and massage the impact site as best I can. I glance up, and notice the same mint-green unicorn I saw earlier, looking at me as if I hadn’t just hurt myself.

“You don’t leave Canterlot much, do you?”

Deciding not to shy away from small talk, I indulge her. “I don’t.”

She smiles anyway. “My name’s Lyra.”

“Cornerstone.”

“You know, Cornerstone, I’m from Canterlot too. I live mostly in Ponyville, but I visit a ton. Always nice to see home every now and again.” She points out the window. “We could see the orchard at Sweet Apple Acres if it wasn’t still winter. It looks beautiful usually.”

“So you’re coming back before then?”

“Yeah.” She sits down on the seat opposite of mine. “I don’t think I could stand it much longer in Canterlot.”

“Why?” I ask.

She glances away as she answers. “Well… it just isn’t Ponyville, you know? I mean, ignoring the fact that they’re totally different places, Canterlot ponies never seem to think the highest of Ponyville.”

I nod. “I know all too well.”

Lyra chuckles. “They can definitely be insulting at times.” She glances around, then turns back to me. “So, what’s bringing you to Ponyville?”

“Moving.”

“Oooh. Odd. Good thing you like the scenery, or else you’d want to cut your eyes out seeing all of this nature every morning.”

Sort of a morbid joke. She laughs quietly at it, and I smile on. “I think I’ll be fine.” I look around, and don’t see any bags in the car. I don’t have any either, which, I assume, is why she said it was odd that I was moving. “So… why did you come up to Canterlot?”

“Oh, a concert, actually. Well, not one, we just performed it several nights a week. If you’ll see my cutie mark,” she turns a bit to the side, and I immediately notice the lyre-shaped mark, “I play the lyre, and the harp. Both equally well, in my opinion. The Canterlot Symphony Orchestra thinks I’m better at harp, but I still find the lyre really fun. I can sing too, but I’m not a fan of choir.” She stretches her head a bit, probably glancing at my cutie mark. “A t-square? So like, measuring?”

I chuckle. “Architect. I design buildings for housing and businesses.”

She sighs. “You make it sound so drab and boring. But, that explains your grey coat and red mane. You look like a living set of brick and mortar, you know?”

“It’s just how I was born.”

“Yeah. Most ponies are born like that.”

I tilt my head. Apparently perplexed by my own confusion, she says, “Uhm, well, usually a pony’s fur and mane colors have something to do with their cutie marks or their talent. Just like their names do; you don’t notice that?” She leans forward suddenly, gaze locked to my face.

“I notice it,” I say cautiously. When she doesn’t respond, I offer, “It’s just coincidence.”

She blows a raspberry. “You can’t really believe that.”

“Why not?” I ask.

She stiffens up. “It’s, just, you know. Everypony always looks like something that fits their cutie mark—”

“Well,” I motion to her entirety with a hoof, “how does green help you play an instrument?”

She tilts her head. “What?”

“How does having your green coat color make you better at playing the lyre or harp?”

“I… are you trying to say I look wrong?”

I shake my head. “I think you look really cute, actually.” I realize the bluntness of my answer too late, causing her to blush, but I carry on as best I can. “But it’s not a instrument color. Your fur color is some genes you got from your parents. It just is.”

She looks down in thought for a few moments, then back up to me. “Well, I think there’s a reason for everything. How we’re all drawn to our talents, we all get our cutie marks, how our names always seem to tie into our special talents, all of it.”

I smile at her. “You’re very optimistic.” I stand up from my seat. “I guess that’s it then.”

She tilts her head. “Huh?”

“We’re here.” I gesture out the window, pointing out the slowly approaching station as the train slows down. It’s a humble place, maybe fifty feet long, made of wood and raised only a few feet off of the earth to meet the train car doors. Not much compared to Canterlot’s station, but it suffices.

I walk past Lyra into the aisle. “I’ll be here for the next year, overseeing construction in the new neighborhood. We should talk again sometime.”

“Oooh, that makes so much sense. You’re replacing our last architect then.”

“Yes.”

“The one that was murdered.”

Her head dips low and her ears splay in sadness, the abrupt change catching me off guard. With just five words, her entire mood soured more than I could have imagined. “I still can’t believe he’s gone. I… I was actually friends with him, but I had just headed up to Canterlot a few days before he passed.”

The murder was something even I had heard about. All of Equestria probably knew about it. While the whole country has maybe a dozen murders a year—thus making it rare but not unheard of—there were no recorded instances of murder in Ponyville, making the small town front page news in many cities across the country. Given that the Elements of Harmony and Equestria’s newest princess are living there, the fame Ponyville is receiving from this catastrophe only grew exponentially.

Once out of my own thoughts, I turn to Lyra again. She looks as ashamed as she does depressed. “That must have been hard,” I say as I bring a hoof to her shoulder.

“I missed the funeral even. I had concerts to attend, and family I hadn’t seen in months.” Her gaze falls further down. “I mean, he wasn’t my best friend or anything, but… we waved to each other. Made small talk pretty often. Had lunch sometimes, almost once a week. And… now he’s gone.” She sniffles a little bit.

Unsure of how to respond, I withdraw my hoof. “I’m sorry…”

She shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.” She brushes past me, walking up the aisle towards the next car. “I need to get my things.”

I watch her as she leaves, her head hung low. Figuring she just needs a few moments to herself, I promptly head out the door to my car, stepping onto the platform. A few ponies are already walking off with their bags, probably passengers just getting off the train, but at least three ponies are standing and watching the train. One mare, one stallion, and Princess Twilight Sparkle.

The purple alicorn herself stands alone on the platform, reading something off a clipboard floating in front of her face. This is probably the closest I’ve ever been to her, actually. Even though I also went to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, I never shared any classes with her, and barely saw her or Celestia.

Which is what keeps gnawing at the back of my mind: when the murder happened, Celestia wanted life to resume as normally as possible in Ponyville, and since Ponyville didn’t have any other architects, that opened up a position for anypony in Canterlot to go. And as soon as she saw me offer to go, she decided it should be me. We had never talked, except for when I was trying for her school, but at the time I was as air-headed as any other citizen of Canterlot. How could she know that I thought Ponyville was someplace I had wanted to live for the last few years?

Unable to deduce anything, I put the thoughts into the back of my mind as I make my way towards Twilight Sparkle, but just as I’m passing the mare waiting on the platform, she darts past me, nearly throwing me to the ground. “The heck?” I turn in her direction, ready to tell her off, when I see whom she ran over to.

It’s Lyra. She looks like she’s sobbing, and she’s thrown her arms around the mare who greeted her. The tan-coated mare is comforting her, patting her back and the like, while also looking around worriedly. I decide her friend probably knows how to handle the situation better than I, so I continue over towards Twilight.

I turn around, and a flash of magenta light blinds me for a split second, and I walk straight into the princess. Our heads collide, the impact throwing me back with some kind magical shock passing through my body. I land flat on my back, the air knocked out of me, a numbness spreading through my body.

“O-ow! Watch where—” she stops when she realizes I was thrown several feet “—oh gosh, are you okay?”

I grumble a response, unable to make a complete sentence. I manage to pull myself up, but I can barely keep my balance.

“I’m sorry about that!” she says, looking mildly embarrassed. “I didn’t think that my teleport would cause any problems with your horn! That was completely unexpected and… well, something I’ve never seen before.”

I work my jaw a bit, the numbness finally fading. “Did I hit you when you came out of your teleport?” I ask.

“I teleported a few feet away, actually; we never even touched.” She examines my horn for a moment. “You should probably take it easy for a while. A magical discharge like that probably has some side effects.”

“Right,” I say, massaging my aching horn. Even though I’m not casting magic, I can feel how sore it is; it’s like a muscle after a tough workout.

Twilight shakes her head. “It’s my fault, anyway. I should probably teleport around a bit less. It’s not very… princess-like. Wait…” She looks me over. While standing, I’m barely an inch above her in stature. “You aren’t bowing.”

I tilt my head. “Princess Celestia told me you don’t like ponies bowing to you.”

The comment makes her chuckle. “That never works for ponies from Canterlot. Then again, you’re willingly moving to Ponyville, so you’re already a bit odd—oh!” She immediately blushes. “I don’t mean you’re weird or anything, it’s just—”

I sigh. “It’s… fine. Don’t worry about it.” I turn and mumble to myself, “As if she would get why I’d leave the big city….”

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.” I hold out a hoof. “Cornerstone.”

“Oh, I already know your name.” When she realizes I’m not going to change my expression or move my hoof, she meets it. “I’m Twilight Sparkle.”

“So why did Princess Celestia want us to meet here?”

“She probably thought it best to show you around, since I moved here from Canterlot as well.” She then turns around and says a bit more quietly, “Can I be honest with you?”

“Sure?”

“Well, uh, I’m not sure why we need an architect.”

I tilt my head at her statement. After a few moments, she realizes that she isn’t going to get a response out of me. She sighs, and starts walking towards town again. “The houses are already designed. The mayor found a city planner to help with the neighborhood, we had engineers for the streets and sidewalks… to be honest, I’m not sure what you’re going to do here.”

“I thought I was just here for supervision.” I smile. “But even if I’m not essential, I’m happy to be moving here.”

“Really?”

I arch my eyebrows a bit. “Is that surprising?”

“Well, you know, most Canterlot ponies don’t think much of Ponyville. But since you’re coming here of your own accord, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”

I nod. “Seems like ponies here don’t mind that I’m from Canterlot either.”

“Oh, you’ve met somepony already?” She turns her head this time as she walks, clearly more interested than before.

“I had a short conversation with Lyra on the train.”

She nods. “Well, I’m glad that you’ve met somepony already. Making friends will make the move here easy.” She chuckles a little bit. “With how small a town this is, you should be able to find some, right? Ponyville only has a population of about one thousand after all; it’s a wonder we ever get Winter Wrap Up finished on time.”

“About that….” I glance around. “Isn’t spring a bit late this year? It’s still winter in Canterlot as well.”

“There was some strange mishap with the weather factories this winter. We had a major cloud shortage, so we had to delay winter’s start until all of Equestria could start at the same time. If you don’t start the seasons at around the same time, it really throws animals off. Nopony will be wrapping up winter for another week, on the 27th. Are you planning to help out?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Just, be careful. They try to do things more… traditionally, during Winter Wrap Up, so they don’t like to use magic.”

That brings a smile to my face. “Sounds great.”

Twilight laughs, lightening the mood instantly. “You’re really strange, you know that?”

I chuckle, but don’t feel the need to respond. “So, where’s my house?”

She stops, and I trot a few more paces to turn to face her. “Oh, right. I was taking you to your new home! Well, uh, we’re in the center of Ponyville right now so—” she stops talking, her gaze locked in some direction. I follow it and find her staring at some orange mare at an fruit stand in what looks like a heated argument with some pegasus. “Sorry, I uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to a friend all day, and since we’re here—”

I interrupt her with a wave. “Don’t worry about it, I can have a little look around then.” She thanks me and heads off galloping towards the two ponies, and I take the time to explore my surroundings.

The center of Ponyville is sparsely populated, with only a couple ponies walking about. There’s a fountain—not running due to the winter weather—a statue of some pony I don’t recognize, and benches placed all about. I start walking towards the fountain and see a market area past it with slightly more ponies, both shopping and those running their stands. It appears as though there is still some produce to sell despite the inclement weather. One thing that really amazes me is that, no matter where I look, I see an equal number of earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi. It may not seem like a big deal, but to me, that sets Ponyville apart from Canterlot more than anything else.

As I make my way past all the stands full of produce, I start to see more traditional businesses set up in actual buildings. While most of them seem inconsequential, such as Quills and Sofas or the joke shop, one truly stands out. The tall building, about two stories, is a vivid violet, with white and pink highlights on roof and bargeboard, with most of the siding being an intricate blue and white design. The design is very obviously influenced by carousels as one might see at carnivals, complete with frilly imagery and carousel horses on the second story. Unlike most of the other stores, I don’t see a sign designating this place. But, the sign on the door does read open, so I make my way inside.

I immediately notice a few telling signs: dresses on display, a stage obviously meant for fashion shows, even some sewing equipment in a bin to the side. I walk forward, and notice a doorway leading to a dining room and kitchen. This is not only a store then, but also where somepony lives.

My ears catch a voice shouting down from the stairwell at the other end of the room. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique.” I turn to catch an ivory unicorn with a vivid, purple mane coming down the stairwell. Aside from her obvious beauty—which almost makes me blush right then and there—her accent gives me the impression that she is from Canterlot, but something about it is off, as if it is only halfway there. “How may I help you today?” she asks, a warm smile on her face.

I clear my throat. “I was exploring Ponyville since I just moved here.” I take a few steps forward to a clothing rack with a few already-made dresses on it. “The store is very beautiful, and the exterior is incredibly unique.”

She chuckles. “The design is of my parents’ creation, as this used to be their home, but they left when I was a filly to a real house on the other side of town when they had my sister. They kept it, and gave it to me when I was old enough to start my business.” She pauses. “I apologize. I don’t usually get compliments about my home, so I simply had to elaborate. I haven’t even introduced myself yet: my name is Rarity.”

“I’m Cornerstone.” I extend a hoof, and she shakes it with a warm smile on her face. “So, you make dresses then?”

“All by commission.” She pauses again. “I’m sorry, but did you say you just moved to Ponyville?”

“Yeah.”

“May I ask where from?”

“Canterlot.”

She gasps. “Canterlot?! Oh my, what brings a gentlecolt such as yourself to the likes of Ponyville?”

I grit my teeth. “Do I need a reason?”

She shys away a step, surprised by my tone. “I don’t mean to offend, sir,” she says as she looks back at me with confidence, “I’m just curious, is all. Ponies usually have a reason to move from one city to another. They leave family and friends behind, so there must be some explanation at least.”

“You would think,” I say under my breath. I turn back to her and say, “let’s… call it a job opportunity.” I turn to reveal my cutie mark. “I’m an architect.”

“Oh… I see. You’re replacing him…” her gaze falls to the floor. “Did… did you know him?”

I shake my head. “No, I… I didn’t. Celestia simply wanted somepony from Canterlot to replace him, and she chose me. Simple enough.”

Rarity nods. “I’ll miss him, even though we weren’t the closest of friends… but enough of that.” Her voice picks up again. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself here in Ponyville. We may not have all the glamour of Canterlot, but there’s plenty of interesting ponies to meet, so I’m sure you’ll find something to do whenever you aren’t working.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

That’s when I feel it: a surge of exhaustion falls over me, leaving my limbs weak. I fall over against a wall, taking shallow breaths.

Rarity gasps at my sudden loss of balance. “Are you all right?”

“Just… feel really tired for some reason. That’s all.” After a few moments, I feel my strength coming back, and I manage to stand up by myself. “That was… strange.”

“It certainly was. Are you sick, perhaps?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

That’s when we hear the bell above the door ring, signaling an entering customer. We both turn to see Twilight standing in the doorway. “Oh, there you are, Cornerstone.”

“You two know each other?” Rarity asks.

“Oh, I’m just showing Cornerstone to his house is all. I had to leave him to his own devices to talk with Rainbow Dash for a moment.”

“Ah, I see,” she says, glancing at me with a chuckle.

Twilight turns to me. “Are you two having a conversation, or…?”

I shake my head, and turn to Rarity. “Maybe we can talk another time? I would like to get settled in as soon as possible.”

“Think nothing of it dear, I’m sure we’ll meet up again soon. Until then!”

I simply wave as we leave the shop, Twilight now focused on leading me home. Once we’re outside, I find my mind wandering in odd directions. Just how much has this death hurt the citizens of this town? Why would somepony want to kill an innocent, old architect? I wonder just how much his death has rocked this small town by itself.

It’s sickening.

After about ten minutes of walking through Ponyville, we take a turn and come upon my house, at the end of the street. Twilight doesn’t need to tell me which house is mine; this road is a dead end in the direction we’re heading, and the house’s exterior is painted a bright white, much like the exteriors of stone houses in Canterlot, while most of the other homes here do not have such colors.

We stop at the front walk, and she turns back to me. “Well, this is it,” she says, motioning towards the house.

I bring a hoof to my chin. “It’s… rather simple.”

“It’s actually the same type of house as most in this neighborhood. The paint job just makes it really distinct.”

“Did my parents decide on it?”

She nods. “Yup. They thought it would make you feel at home.”

“Of course they would,” I mutter to myself.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing.”

She tilts her head. “All right. Well, if that’s all, I’ll leave you to unpack your things. Come see me whenever you want to go over—”

“Actually, I have one question, Twilight,” I ask just before she starts walking. “It’s… about the previous architect.”

“Oh… Mortar.” Twilight’s gaze falls downward. “He was definitely a friend….”

“It seems like his death affected the whole town,” I say quietly. “I haven’t talked with a pony who didn’t feel some kind of sadness about what happened.”

“It’s my fault.”

I blink. Twilight looks through me, past me, more determination in her gaze than I’ve ever seen in another pony. “I’m Equestria’s newest princess, and a murder was committed in very the city where I live. I’m… even before I became a princess, I was one of the most powerful unicorns in the country, and I let this happen.”

I raise a hoof to say something, but she continues again, “Ponyville never had problems like this before I got here. The only reason that murder happened was because Ponyville gained a princess… so it’s my fault.”

I bite my lip as my gaze falls downward, wanting to quell her guilt. To my knowledge, there isn’t even a suspect, and there is no evidence supporting a specific motive, other than the body being in plain view of ponies walking down the street, which could mean any number of things. I don’t want her to blame herself for this.

I’m just not sure how to express myself.

“So I know what I have to do.” I look back up at her as she says, “I’m going to see the police this week and offer my assistance. If they haven’t found a suspect after this long, I’m sure they’ll want my help.” She nods to herself.

“I-I’m sure,” I say under my breath. “Good luck.”

“All right. Whether or not they want my help, I’ll be in the library for the next few days. Come see me whenever you want to see where you’ll be working.” Her cheery demeanor returns, and trots off with a bright smile and a wave.

I would call out to her, except another bout of exhaustion comes over me, and I nearly fall to the ground. I wobble over to my house, and hold myself up from falling by leaning against the wall. The headache also flares up. I let out a tired moan, and decide to retire for the night, not wanting to do any unpacking, thinking, or anything other than recovering from these inexplicable pains.

Author's Note:

Wow, this is actually happening. This is the product of about 9 months of work just to even start, but it's finally here. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

Two of my friends have volunteered to be pre-readers for this fic, so I'd like to give them shout-outs right now.

Alexstrazsa and Dee Forty-Five

And if someone helps me with an individual chapter, I'll be sure to mention them in the author's notes as well.

Additional help for this chapter: Pascoite

Comments

[chinlamp]

the fame Ponyville iss receiving from this catastrophy only grew exponentially.

One too many 's's there. And catastrophe has an 'e' not a 'y'.

[Skeeter The Lurker]

Hmmm.

Nice solid start... Pretty cool OC...

I like what I see so far.

Wonder why the town is so upset at the death of... Mortar, was it?

~Skeeter The Lurker

[fearanger]

I'm liking this alot! I like where your going with this, although now I'm feeling paranoid about every bad thing happening. What if the cloud shortages will be related to the story? What if Lyra will be an important character in this? WHAT IF yeah you see where i'm going with this.

[somecallmeanthony]

Calling it right now: Rarity is... the end boss.

[G2PLAY]

4376026
Well ur dead wrong she probably the 1st boss cause I no the signs received a drowsiest point 1st the 2nd was twilight if it's not that order then I'm miffed