Midnight Begins: Chapter 6
Midnight’s Shadow
Midnight Begins: Chapter 6
I had hoped that getting some sleep after what had been an exhausting, painful, and irritating day would have helped to rejuvenate me for the next day. It did not.
After informing the elder Carrots what their children had done and seeing to their punishment, I had recovered what I could of my possessions. Unfortunately, several of the potions and many of the thaumaturgic aids within my saddlebags had been destroyed or rendered unusable. I could replace everything, but I would need to be in Canterlot or a city with a good-sized market to do so. Not just any market possessed silver dust, specialized scent candles, or runecarved gems, and an earth pony village like Appleton simply did not have much use for such things. The loss of so much of my supplies was upsetting, both for being the senseless waste that it was and for the loss at a critical juncture. Some of those supplies would be sorely missed the next day.
In any event, there was little to be done about it, and I yearned for a soft bed. As my mother would no doubt advise, it was best to deal with the situation one faced rather than dwell upon how one might wish it to be. Flights of fancy would not help me find justice for the ponies that had been so foully murdered in Appleton.
So I had crawled into bed along with Gale and slept with the intent to tackle the problems facing me with a renewed body and mind. ‘Twas a shame that I woke up feeling wretched. Mine eyes fluttered open as I was forced to make a wheezing cough. I promptly pulled a handkerchief out of my saddlebags to blow into. A pounding echoed within my head, and I felt I was every bit as worn as I had been upon going to sleep.
Gale groaned and rolled over on the bed to look at me. “Midnight, art thou sick?”
“Aye, I believe so.” I blew into my handkerchief again to try and clear my nose. “‘Twould seem that the trials of yesterday were not kind to me.”
Gale sat up and went about trying to straighten out her disheveled mane, which was almost always a mess after sleeping. “Thou dost have a talent for being the focus of misfortune, Midnight.” Gale looked as me and sighed. “There are times I wonder if thine ill luck is brought ‘pon thyself.”
“If ‘tis so, then I know not how I have done to deserve such ill-fortune,” I lamented. Of course I would become sick now of all times. It seemed that exhausting myself running about Appleton and being out in the rain all that time had taken their toll.
Gale got out of bed and stepped around, giving me a concerned look. “Art thou well enough to move, or art thou going to need more rest?” She placed her pastern upon my forehead to see if I had a fever.
“I think I can endure.” Shuffling out of bed, the weariness only seemed to redouble. “There is too much to do to allow me to lie in bed, anyways.”
My friend fixed me with a concerned frown. “Midnight, I do not wish for thee to worsen thy condition. Thou underwent through far more trials yesterday than thou art accustomed to.”
“I will be fine,” I assured her, moving to my saddlebags. “Besides, I have medicines that should help with my sickness. Assuming they survived the rambunctious behavior of those children, anyways.” I pulled out my medical kit, and looked through its remedies. “There is no time to delay. I need to try and disperse the energies of that ritual ere they can be used for whatever foul purpose they were intended. After that, we need to continue our investigation to find the warlock or warlocks responsible for the murders and stop them.”
I could see Gale mulling over the situation we now found ourselves in. “And thou wilt be well enough to deal with the ritual?”
“I will have to be.” Pulling out a vial from within the kit, I swiftly downed the green potion. The bitter and foul tasting concoction burned as it made its way down my throat, and I coughed. ‘Twas always the curse of potent remedies to be unpleasant to consume.
Gale moved to support me with her body. “At least I requested that Carrot Casserole allow us some extra time to sleep instead of waking up with the rooster like the rest of her family. She should have left out some food for us from breakfast.”
“That is good to hear, at least.” A twinge in my throat caused me to cough again. In truth, all I desired was to crawl back into bed, pull the covers over my head, and go back to sleep as I tried to forget all my troubles. My duty drove me on, though. Lives depended upon me, and I could not fail them.
“Then let me see what was left for us while you rest a bit more.” Gale pushed me gently back into the bed, and I could not bring myself to resist her. “Maybe some food will make thee feel better.”
“Aye, that sounds fine,” I said, making myself comfortable.
Gale made for the bedroom door. “I will be back in a little bit.”
My eyes felt like they had only just closed when they snapped back open as Gale returned to the bedroom, a tray of food balanced on her back. It seemed I was indeed as weary as I felt, if I had nodded off so easily.
Gale placed the tray onto the bed and sat down next to it. The tray had some sliced carrots and apples, some cornbread, and a broth. “There. Now eat, it will make thee feel better.”
“My thanks.” I levitated over some sliced carrots to chew on.
“I have been thinking, thou shouldst do what thou must to deal with the ritual while I go into town and see what I can discover on our warlocks.” Gale picked up a slice of cornbread. “At least thou wouldst not be exhausted by running about town and can rest here at the magnate’s farm if necessary if thy magics tire thee.” She put the cornbread into her mouth as she awaited my response.
“That seems reasonable.” I thought over Gale’s plan, seeing if there were any problems I could foresee and quickly came upon one. “I am to guess that Stalwart is to remain with me? If that is so, then thou wilt be alone in Appleton, and thus be an isolated target for any warlocks. Not to mention that Applesauce and his ilk are loose ‘pon the town. They may not mind attacking a lone member of the Guard.”
Gale let out a derisive snort. “The day some farmers manage to successfully ambush me is the day I ask to retire from my duties. I know how to be wary of such things and have more experience at them than you realize.”
“And the warlock?” I asked.
She chewed on some carrots before replying. “More troublesome, I admit. Especially since thou judgest that the warlock or warlocks responsible for this are skilled in their craft?”
“Aye, I believe so.” I levitated up a bowl of the broth to eat. “The types of magics I have seen used would require more power and skill than some petty young warlock just coming into their magic would be capable of, or anypony who found some dark artifact or made a compact with a forbidden power, for that matter.”
Gale rolled her neck and shoulders, using the exercise to delay for a moment before she spoke. “I have been trained to deal with warlocks and have had experience with their foul kind in the past. ‘Twill have to do, for if we take no risks then likely we will not find our quarry. Not before more ponies die.”
“I will have to agree with that, even if I do not like it.” Still, I misliked the idea of Gale being alone. I could request Subtle Song to go with her, but Gale seemed to care little for the bard. Though there were other options. “Mayhaps thou couldst find Red Steel and Silent Forest and work with them.”
Gale nodded. “That was my hope, honestly. I would like to know how her hunt for Applesauce has gone, and if she has gathered any other information. There is just the matter of finding them in town, but I can manage that easily enough from the air.”
I took a sip of the soup, and found it to have a delightful taste. “That sounds as reasonable of a plan as we can have, given the circumstances. Let us pray it will work out.”
After eating, I met up with Stalwart in the magnate’s home while Gale went into Appleton to do her own work. It seemed that Subtle Song had left sometime after breakfast and thus far had not returned. With the Guard sergeant in tow, I sought out Carrot Casserole in order to be provided a place where I could work my magics. While I think I might have prefered to do my work in the magnate’s home, ‘twould have made me feel like a poor guest in her home should something go wrong with the difficult spellcraft I had planned and I did something like burn her home down.
Thus Carrot Casserole had been happy to provide me with one of her old, less used barns on her farm. The barn had clearly seen better days; some of its wood was now rotting, and its paintjob had been eroded by the elements so thoroughly that barely any peeling bits remained. While far from a place of luxury, ‘twould at least provide me the space and quiet I required for my work. The magnate had even been gracious enough to give me some help while I set about my work in the form of her son, Carrot Root, and her niece, Carrot Slice.
“What are ye doing, Magus?” asked Carrot Slice, interrupting my progress once again with another question.
The helpfulness of that help was relative.
Closing my eyes, I pushed down my anger and frustration at being delayed. While my remedies had helped to relieve me of the symptoms of my illness, they had still left me tired and my thoughts sluggish. “I am working on preparing a ritual to counter the one the warlock is attempting to complete. As I was doing so when last thou askedst me a little while ago.”
I looked up from my work to see the youth, Carrot Slice, lazing about on her back atop one of the thick fences that divided up the barn. Boredom clear on the dark green young mare’s features as she stares off at nothing. While still in her maidenhood, she was far from comely with the weathered features that seemed common of the mountain folk of Appleton. The gangly appearance of youth and the scraggly, chestnut colored mane that she had inherited from her mother, Carrot Juice, had done little to help her appearance.
“Oh...” Carrot Slice looked at me through the corner of her eye with disinterest. “So do all those lines ye are drawing mean something?”
“Aye, they are arcane marks and sigils of importance,” I assured her, returning to my work. There was a large, open space within the barn that I had taken as my own. At the center, I had drawn a large circle within the dirt large enough to easily fit a pony within, and around that were arcane symbols I had meticulously dug with great care.
Carrot Slice rolled onto her side on the fence to face me. “And they are for what exactly?” From her tone, I could tell that she was asking more out of boredom than actual academic curiosity. Still, I doubted the filly would be harmed by having some knowledge given to her. All she probably knew about the type of magic I performed was in the form of myth and legends.
“These symbols will help me concentrate my magics for the difficult spellwork I am about to attempt.” Taking a moment to examine my work for mistakes, I began circling the clearning inside of the barn. Thankfully, the barn had a large enough open space in the center to allow me to do my work. “First is the circle within the center of it, a circle being one of the most useful magical constructs any practitioner of the art can use to help them focus their magic, and the circle is reinforced by the sigils. Each of those sigils represents certain concepts and ideas that are intended to strengthen the whole.”
“Uh-huh...” Carrot Slice said in the way a young adult typically did when they did not fully grasp an idea. “I will have to trust ye on that.”
I supposed I should not have been surprised that the concept might have been a bit difficult to grasp. Likely she had not mastered writing, much less the far more esoteric symbols I was using.
Stalwart stepped up to take a closer look at my work. “Am I to guess that you are not to be disturbed when you are concentrating on your magic?”
“That would be prefered,” I said, nodding. “I will be projecting my spirit into the dreamscape to try and dismantle the energies of the warlock’s ritual, so unless we wish to risk a magical backlash that could potentially kill us all.” I rubbed at my chin. “Fire that would consume everything near it being likely in the event of a cataclysm. Or a concussive force that will shatter every bone in our bodies. Though it can always be hard to say where wild magic is concerned.”
Stalwart blinked and took a step away from my the circle and sigils. “I will make sure you will not be interrupted, Magus.”
Slice gave me a curious look. “Wait, what is this dream-thing, and why are ye ... doing that thing ye are doing?”
“The dreamscape is the realm we touch ‘pon when we dream,” I lectured to the young mare. “‘Tis its own plane of existence, separate from ours, but still touching the material plane in certain places. Mostly when we sleep and dream. The reason why I am traversing the dreamscape is because it has a metaphysical connection with our world. While projecting into the dreamscape, I can better see and interact with certain forces. Many things that exist in our world reflect over there—sometimes in the form of copies, other times in allegory or in symbols, or as something truly is. I am confident that I can find the source of the ritual’s energies there and deal with it decisively. Dost thou understand?”
“I ... guess?” Slice said with all the confidence of a student who does not quite fully grasp a topic being discussed. She shook her head and slid off the fence to land on her hooves. “Suddenly this seems more dangerous than boring.”
I waved dismissively. “It should be fine. ‘Tis rare for a magus to die from such a thing.”
My bodyguard cleared his throat. “You mentioned projecting your spirit? Will that make it difficult to contact you before you are done with your work?”
That was a practical consideration about what I was about to do, and it was not difficult to divine why my bodyguard might be concerned. “Aye, thou canst attempt to yell to gain my attention, but ‘tis no guarantee. Though I warn thee never to break the circle; that is what will most likely cause a disaster. My work is delicate enough, and anything that might disrupt my concentration could be ill for my health.”
“Is there not another way?” Sticking his head out the barn doors, Stalwart glance about the property around us. “I do not like the idea of you being so vulnerable.”
“‘Tis not something I am entirely comfortable with myself, but ‘tis a necessary evil, I am afraid.” I noticed a minor mistake I had made, and grabbed the stick I had been using to make the minor correction to fix it. “I am dealing with a vast store of magical energies, and I dare not tackle them without every advantage I can muster.” Which made the loss of so many of my ritual items the previous night sting all the more. Bad enough that I was now sick, but now I was also bereft of many of my tools.
Our conversation was interrupted when a bright orange-coated colt came running up to us. He smiled up at me and Stalwart, a ceramic bowl with a lip balanced on his back. Sweat ran through his tussle of a dark green mane. “Magus! I have the salt ye wanted!”
I levitated the large bowl off of his back and lifted the lid off, revealing the generous portion of salt within. “I am impressed. My thanks, Carrot Root.” The Carrot clan’s naming convention made me wonder if perhaps they would at some point run out of carrot-based names between them. Granted, my mother had named me after herself, so mayhaps I had no room for criticism.
In any event, I was not quite sure where the colt had procured quite so much salt. Perhaps it had come from his mother’s stores, most likely without her permission given how much I now possessed. (1) However he had come upon it, I was not about to question it. Both because I had great need for the salt, and because the less I knew, the less I could be directly culpable should Carrot Root anger his parents. If anything, I would pay the cost of the salt and be done with the matter.
1. It should be noted that due to how difficult it was to gather salt and it being a necessary part of a pony’s diet, being one of the few preservatives available to ponies during this time period and a valuable component for magi, salt was a high value commodity. One often valuable enough to be used as a barter medium by earth ponies and with other nations. Likely Carrot Root had just given Midnight a pricy amount of salt.
“Ye are welcome!” Carrot Root’s smile became all the wider, no doubt pleased with himself that he had managed to satisfy one of his elders. “As I said before, sorry for getting into your things earlier. I do not know what caused me to think that was a good idea, so I hope that helps make everything better!”
“‘Tis quite alright, child. Thy attempt at amends speaks of thy intentions.” ‘Tis often the nature of youth to err and to learn from their mistakes. Holding a grudge against a child that meant no ill will would have been a foolhardy venture, while accepting his help had gained me the salt I desired. “Thou hast done quite well, and I am pleased.” I gave him an encouraging smile, but for some reason that seemed to damper his own mood as his own smile became strained.
“Y-ye are welcome, Magus.” He took a step back, threatening to step on one of my sigils.
“Now mind the runes.” I gently pushed him back a couple of steps away from my sigils, feeling he was too close to them for comfort. In truth, I had sent him out on his quest due to him getting far too much under hoof while I was working. Having a colt constantly asking me questions while prancing about me was not aiding in my delicate work. So I did what my mother had done when I was a child and was making a nuisance of myself while she was trying to work: send me off on some errand that needed completing. Now, to my mild surprise, he had gained me the salt I now required.
The bowl firmly within my telekinetic field, I carefully went about pouring the salt into the crevice of the circle carved into the dirt.
Carrot Root’s eyes widened as the salt returned to the earth. “What are ye doing!?” He dashed forward, but I blocked him from stepping on my sigil with a shield spell, and he bounced off it. I had desired to keep him from my symbols, thus I had made the shield be more flexible than norm to prevent him from hurting himself. I had become very adept at using shields thanks to my training. There had been little choice due to my mother.
I moved from filling in my circle with a solid line of salt to the sigils. “I am using the salt to augment my circle and sigils. Salt is a magical purifier and will make my task significantly easier.”
Carrot Slice frowned as continued my work. “Seems like a big waste.”
Irritation grew within me at the criticism. “I know what I am doing. I have been trained in this since I was a small child.”
Sighing patiently, Slice said, “If ye say so.”
I finished pouring the salt and felt quite done being judged by a child. “Stand away from the circle, I need peace while I cast my spell.” Stalwart helped herd the children away from the sigils while I carefully stepped into the circle. I took a moment to blow my nose on a handkerchief, clearing it as best I could before continuing.
Carrot Slice kept walking away from the barn beyond what advised. “You know, I think I am going to get some distance in case the magus sets the barn on fire.”
“I said that was only if the worst should come to pass and that it was unlikely.” I tell a pony what the worst possible outcome of a spell could be and suddenly they act like the sky will be raining fire, the oceans boil, and ponies will scream in lament of the horrors coming down upon them. ‘Twas most irritating.
“I still prefer my plan,” Slice said cooly. “I will tell Aunt Casserole that ye are not to be disturbed, if ye do not mind.”
“That is fine,” I said, waving for her to continue.
“Can I still watch?” Carrot Root smiled at me with hopeful optimism, no doubt infected with the curiosity of youth. It reminded me of when I had been a child and had desired to watch my mother as she did some working of magic. Those were some pleasant memories.
“Thou may.” I rolled my neck, slowly concentrating on the task ahead of me. “Though thou wilt stand behind Sergeant Stalwart and follow his directions.”
“Alright!” Carrot Root followed Stalwart’s directions to stand by him near the door of the barn while I closed my eyes.
I breathed rhythmically, deliberately. That was somewhat difficult when I felt a cough well up within my throat, but I pushed it back and in time ignored it. What I was about to attempt was difficult, and indeed, dangerous. The power one could collect through a series of ritual sacrifices was considerable, and whoever had created the spell matrix that held the magic of the ritual together had done so with considerable skill and ability. It was not unlike a tightly woven blanket, its magical strands entwined together, and the only way for me to destroy it was to pull the individual strands apart or meticulously cut the strings. I could perhaps have used a more brute-force method to destroy it, and while that would have been successful in disrupting the ritual, such an effort likely would result in me being the focus of a magical backlash that could very well slay me outright. Thus, I needed to be careful.
Drawing upon my magic, I focused on the circle and sigils around me. The circle being intended to contain and concentrate magical energies while the sigils stood for aspects of magic, dreaming, and defense. I activated the sigils and closed the magic circle, now set on my course. My magic, a dark and cold current, ran through me in earnest as I drank deeply of it. When I was as prepared as I could be, I cast the spell to project my spirit into the dreamscape.
I felt a sudden lurch at the completion of the spell. When I opened my eyes, I found myself, or at least the part of me that was not my corporeal body, in a vast and endless space filled with stars. It was often how the dreamscape chose to present itself to those that traveled it, or mayhaps ‘twas the result of how I believed the dreamscape should appear and it conformed to my vision of it. ‘Twas always difficult to say with a realm that was mutable based on the thoughts and will of those that entered it. It could change to almost anything a pony could imagine, and often did when ponies touched upon it when they slept and dreamed.
Now was not the time to reminisce on the metaphysics of the dreamscape, though; I had come here for a purpose. Extending my magical senses, I scanned about to find what I desired. It was in the starry mass before me that I found what I was looking for, the familiar thrum of energy that made up the corrupt power of the dark ritual.
With an effort of will, I moved towards it. Distances are relative in the dreamscape, always changing, shifting, and being changed by those that inhabited it. A road of stars extended before me, and I followed it towards my destination, knowing it would take me where I needed to go. In time, the road lead to a path in an old forest like that surrounding Appleton, though with a more ethereal feeling to it. The trees seemed too perfect, the air too crisp, and the grass too green—like the idea of a forest rather than the messy and imperfect reality of a forest of the material world.
A fog drifted up as I approached my target. I continued forward knowing I was drawing closer to the source of the magical energies, but the longer I walked, the more distant my objective seemed to become. Still, I was beckoned on. My heart beat faster as my walk turned into a trot and then into a run. The fog grew thicker, the forest more tangled. Branches flicked at my flanks, and I felt the pinpricks of thorn bushes as I ran through them. On and on I ran, the ritual eluding me. My chest heaved with effort, my legs burned, and I could barely see what was right before me.
Those things did not matter. What mattered was getting to my destination. Nothing mattered except my destination, to move forward and onwards.
Something snagged one of my hooves, and I was sent tumbling into the ground. My body felt every shock as it rolled along the ground, impacting stumps, bushes, and fallen branches. There I laid, gasping for breath as sweat dripped into my eyes. I was so tired. How long had I run? Did it matter? All I wanted to do was close my eyes and let the peace of the forest consume me. It even felt like a gentle blanket was drawing in around me. I blinked lazily, threatening to stay closed as sleep threatened to become my companion.
Ahead of me I could see the fog clearing a bit. I saw the vague outline of an old fortified tower, crumbling into ruin from age and disrepair. An old gnarled tree was even growing out of it, the land determined to reclaim its own against even the crafted stone of civilization. Through the haze of my weary mind, it just did not seem important.
There was the barest flash of something within my mind. A voice spoke, imperious and rich. “Thou art in danger, child. Wake up!”
Why?
The one worded question echoed in my thoughts, an annoying buzz in my head that kept me from drifting off into a peaceful slumber. What was I even doing? Where was I, and how had I come here? I wished to sleep but some nagging sense kept me from doing so. Was I in some sort of danger? From what? Who had spoken to me? I blinked my eyes, attempting to remove the sleep from them.
Something was wrong.
Now was not a time to sleep, I determined. I struggled to get up, but briars painfully dug into my skin as I tried to squirm out from under the branches that now held me down. The pain brought me to my sense and my heart raced, my instincts driving me to resist. I concentrated my will and magic, and froze the branches that constrained me. With another spell, my shadow writhed to life and whipped out and tore the branches from my body, the harsh crack of breaking branches echoing through the forest.
Frantically, I stood up as the fog thickened. I felt a weariness that had nothing to with fatigue sapped at my strength. The fog, now feeling like a physical force in its own right, pressed down on me. More of the briar branches snaked towards me. Now aware of the type of attack I was under, I concentrated and gathered my will to fight against the mental manipulation that threatened to overwhelm me. Lessons from my mother and my tutor on how to fight against mind magics quickly came to mind.
The air around me chilled as I pushed out a light-blue shield originating from my horn, driving the fog back. The branches plunged into the shield but were frozen into place, a light frost slowly overgrowing them. One by one, they crackled and then snapped off where they met my shield. A harsh, menacing hiss came from the foggy forest, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. There was something out there, watching me. I could feel its attention on me as goosebumps ran up and down my skin.
Drawing on Gale’s lesson from the previous night about not letting the creatures of darkness know of my fear, I called out into the forest, “Is that thy best, warlock?! If this trick is the full extent of thy power, then I find it wanting!”
There was the groan and cracking of moving branches at my right flank, and I saw a dozen thick branches striking at me. I replied with a blast of cold air that blew back the branches and snapped them as they yielded to the cold and the force of the violent gale.
Now the master of my senses again, and taking the moment of respite my counterattack had bought me, I turned my thoughts to decide what I should do next. I was all but certain some intelligence was directing the magics being brought against me. There was a coordination to the magical attacks that could be no autonomous spell, and I could feel a presence somewhere out in the fog.
I reached out with my magical senses, but could not find my attacker. The fog was muddling my senses more than a little distance away, preventing me from finding the warlock or the source of the energies of the ritual. That left me with few options. As my mother had driven into my skull during our lessons together, there were two proper responses for an ambush: fight through the ambush to defeat the attacker, or fight out of it to flee. The former option seemed unwise since I could not come to grips with my foe due to not knowing where he or she was. Staying where I was and fighting in a place of my enemy’s choosing was a fool errand that I was not even going to consider. That left retreating. While I could not navigate the fog, I did have one thing in my favor. I felt the metaphysical string that connected me back to my body back in the material world. It thrummed with the energy of my lifeforce and could not so readily be severed.
The problem was that I needed to fight clear of the power of the mind-fog. The disruption it caused to my senses made it difficult to follow the string back to my body, and that was not something I dared attempt without knowing for certain I could do correctly. While I could use my magic to try and jump directly back to my body, such a task required at least some precision to do right. Making a mistake could result in me accidently cutting my spirit from my body or killing me outright. Neither were things I wished to experience.
Thus I ran, following my lifeforce string. More of the branches moved to block my path, but I froze and shattered them as readily as I had done earlier. I thought I had seen the worst the warlock could throw at me.
That was when an unearthly screech like a dagger being dragged against a sheet of metal came from ahead of me. On reflex, I threw up a half-domed shield spell. ‘Twas good I had, for a pair of smoking orange eyes shot through the fog almost faster than I could notice. Larger than any pony I had ever seen, the creature seemed to be made of condensed fog as it streaked towards me and slammed into my shield. I was only able to catch a glimpse of a vaguely bat-like form, only with a flattened and widened head that seemed to have no neck, and numerous, misshapen claw-like appendages on its underside. As quickly as it had appeared, it flew back into the forest, the tree twisting out of its way to allow it to move without interruption. I cursed the always mutable nature of the dreamscape and its aid to my enemy.
I may have been in the realm of dream, but there were still very real dangers. While my body was safe in the material plane, my spirit being in the dreamscape made it vulnerable to its dangers. If I was not wary, my very being could be irrevocably destroyed, at best leaving behind little more than a comatose shell back on the material plane.
Sensing another attack coming, I strengthened my shield, and I felt the thing collide with it. It streaked back into the fog, leaving me no opportunity for a proper counter attack. Twice more the monster struck my shield before I could give a retaliate, and my horn strained from the effort of maintaining it.
I knew I could not keep up my shield forever against such an attack, but the creature of fog was moving with a supernatural speed that made it difficult to attack. I considered my options and what spells I had available as the creature struck twice more.
Deciding on a course of action, I waited for the monster to hit my shield once again and then dispelled it, making it seem like it had finally collapsed. Hoping that would make me appear vulnerable, I ran as quickly as I could towards one of the nearby trees. I reached the tree and kicked off of it to make an about-face. Using the tree to guard my rear, I cast another shield spell, this time making it as wide and translucent as I could. Not more than a moment later, there was resounding sound of an impact as the monster crashed into my shield. The creatures speed made it most dangerous, but that speed could be a danger to itself if it was not cautious enough about where it was going.
Knowing I had no time to waste, I used the fog to create a dozen razor sharp shards of ice and launched them at the fog-monster, timing the blow with me dropping the shield. It tried to dodge the shards, but the spread I had used and its lack of momentum only allowed it to avoid half the shards. The rest bit into it, and it let out a pained screech. The fog-monster flapped drunkenly, trying to regain its balance, but I tossed a pair of ice javelins with enough force to drive it to the ground.
It flailed on the ground, letting out more of its shrilled screeches into the fog. Determined not to give it a chance to recover, my magic had been being badly drained by my casting of several spells. Losing the advantage now could cost me my life. My horn glowed and a blue beam of light struck across the monster, freezing it in place as a solid block of ice encased half of its body. It struggled to break free of the ice, but it was held fast.
My breaths heavy, I cast about a look and found what I desired. I wrapped a large log in my telekinetic field and lifted it. Mayhaps I should have ended the battle with some witty line, but in all honesty, I was shaking from fatigue and fear and was just trying to end the battle. Thus, I brought the log down on the thing’s head—repeatedly. As well as those parts of its body that were not encased in ice. It was not until the fog-monster started falling apart and dissolving that I finally relented and released the log with a grunt of effort.
The monster defeated, I turned back to my lifeforce string and trotted after it, not wishing to see what other horrors the warlock and the fog would be able to produce if given enough time. I did not know how long I trotted, most of my concentration was on keeping the fog from confusing my thoughts and being wary of more dangers, but over time the fog did slowly dissipate and found myself back on the starry road of the dreamscape.
A quick check of my magic confirmed that I had indeed escaped the influence of the dark ritual’s fog. Bedraggled and exhausted, I cast the spell necessary to return to the material world. There was another lurch, and I gasped as I felt myself back in my body.
I made a deep, gasping breath, and then immediately started coughing, my throat feeling dry. The world swam in my vision, and I was forced to close my eyes lest my stomach revolt against me.
“Magus?” Stalwart called out to me, though with my impaired senses I had trouble saying from where. “Are you well?”
“Aye.” I breathed in and out to try and calm my swiftly beating heart. “I ... merely need a moment.”
“‘Tis safe for me to approach?” he asked.
I had to think the question over before replying. “Let me break the circle first.” Carefully opening one of my eyes, I fought through the feeling of nausea to extend a hoof to break the line of the circle. There was a release of pressure as the magical energies trapped by the circle escaped and dissipated into the surrounding area harmlessly. “‘Tis fine now.”
Stalwart walked over to me without delay and placed a comforting hoof on my shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
The minor headache I had been suffering from had turned into a harsh throb now that I had returned to my body, and I rubbed at the sides of my head. “A moment to gain my wits. Visiting the dreamscape was trying.”
“That was amazing!” Carrot Root bounded towards me, an excited smile on his face. “There were so many glowing colors from your magic, and all your symbols on the ground were crackling and glowing, and then it got really cold and dark but was really exciting!” The colt bounced about me. “I have never seen anything so grand in all my life!”
Seeing Root jumping up and down proved too much for my already roiling stomach. I started heaving and emptied the contents of my belly onto the barn floor. So much for maintaining my dignity and that of my position as magus.
“Eeew!” Carrot Root aptly summarized the situation.
My only saving grace, if I could call it that, was that I had eaten a light breakfast. With there not being much to expel, the experience was at least short, if still decisively unpleasant. I was so miserable at that moment that if I could have lay down and died, I would not have minded to do so.
Stalwart let out a patient sigh. “Come, Magus.” He helped me to shaky hooves and lead me towards some large sacks. “Sit here and have some time to compose yourself.”
I saw Carrot Slice leaning against the doorframe, an unhappy frown creasing her lips. She must have returned at some point while I was in the dreamscape. “Great, Aunt Casserole will probably want me to clean that.”
Stalwart pulled a canteen from his side and offered it to me. “Try and have some water. Just a sip for now.”
I drank a mouthful from the canteen, feeling a small measure better. At least it got the taste of bile out of my mouth. “My thanks.”
The sergeant screwed the cap back onto his canteen. “I think it might be time we found the local herbalist or healer. You are not well.”
“Oh! Oh! Oooh!” Carrot Root began hopping about once again, and I was forced to close my eyes or risk provoking my stomach to mutiny against me again. “That would be my grandmother! Also Aunt Juice, since Grandmother’s been teaching her everything she knows. They are wise in the ways of herbs and potions and stuff like that.”
Carrot Slice pushed off the doorframe to stand properly. “Grandmother is in town visiting some friends. But I will see if I can find Mother. I think she is somewhere on the farm.”
“It would help if you could bring her to Midnight.” Stalwart helped me sit down on one of the sacks and I leaned my back against the barn wall. “Root, could you retrieve some food from the house to help settle the magus’s stomach? Some of that broth still simmering over the kitchen fire, mayhaps.”
“You can count on me!” Carrot Root wasted no time galloping off towards the house.
“Children.” Slice made an exasperated sigh that only young adult can make. “I will try and find Mother for you if you do not mind.” She nodded before departing, leaving me and Stalwart alone.
“How did it go?” Stalwart asked once Root and Slice were out of earshot. I suspect he did not wish to discuss what had happened around the children. Fair enough; I did not wish to either for a number of reasons.
“Poorly.” I leaned my head into a shadow created by one of the support beams, the darkness helping with the pain in my head. “A trap had been laid for me. At least one warlock was waiting for me when I approached the ritual’s energies. I was forced to retreat before I was o’erwhelmed.” More than a little of me was greatly annoyed that I had been thwarted. As a magus, I felt that I should have been able to overcome anything some backcountry warlock should have been able to come up with, even if logically I knew that any warlock had the potential to be very dangerous in one manner or another.
Making an unsatisfied grunt, Stalwart sat next to me. “You think there might be more than one warlock now?”
“I believe there is evidence to support it.” I blinked my eyes open. The light feeling harsh, but I fought through the discomfort. “Much could be explained if there are multiple earth ponies in Appleton that were part of some kind of warlock cult. If such was true, they could have passed down knowledge from generation to generation, aided one another, and brought a variety of skills and talents together to achieve feats that no one of them could have been capable of. Enough of them could have been capable of the feats of magic we have seen. Not to mention there are practical concerns. ‘Tis much safer to move about in the forest in groups.” Our encounter with the mountain cat was proof enough of that. “And there are advantages to a group working in concert to maintain a secret.”
Stalwart took some time to think that over. “But you are not completely convinced?”
I shook my head. “As I said earlier, warlocks do not tend to work in harmony with one another. Then there is the problem that their use of the dark arts tends to be noticed sooner or later. ‘Tis difficult for a coven of warlocks to organize and stay secret when they become increasingly tempted to use their power on whatever ponies lay near them. And when such covens are discovered, the response is usually swift and decisive.”
“That is true.” My bodyguard looked about the land outside of the door. “In any event, I think it best to be cautious and assume there is more than one warlock. At least, then, we would less likely be caught unaware.”
“I concur.” I did not mention it to Stalwart, but I had felt more than one presence in the dreamscape. The one that had been attacking me, and then the second one that had warned me that I was in danger. The first was likely a warlock, but the other I was not so sure about. Mayhaps it was some spirit native to that plane, or even my subconscious warning me? I did not know, either way. For the moment, ‘twas something I would have to put along with the other evidence I had gathered to contemplate.
I levitated over my own canteen to take a quick sip of it. As was usually the case, my magic was quickly recovering from my previous efforts. “I think that brings us to what our next move should be.”
Stalwart turned from the door to look at me levelly. “Will you attempt to attack the ritual again?”
“Neigh, at least not right away.” In truth, I was disquieted by the fact that a trap had been set for me. Somepony had even been waiting for me, I had felt a presence there in the dreamscape. Unless at least one warlock was there to protect the rituals magic from the attack I had planned at all times of the day, somepony had known I was coming. My method of attack was esoteric in nature, and would not be something just anypony could have been prepared for and block. Not without preparation and forewarning, in any event.
There was a list of ponies who had known in at least general terms what I had planned, and from them it could have spread still further. Was one of the ponies near me the warlock I sought? I needed time to think it all over and try to glean what I could about the mystery that faced me. T’was a shame the stuffiness I felt in my head made thinking a laborious process.
I took another sip of the canteen before putting it away. I did not want to risk drinking too much and making myself sick again, or at least more sick than I was already feeling. “I will need a bit of time to recover. Maybe even think of a different way to tackle the ritual. I do not welcome the idea of walking into another ambush. Neigh, I think I would like to find Gale and see what she has discovered. We can try to find the others to talk to. Red Steel may have found something useful by now.”
“As good a plan as any for the short term.” Stalwart stood up and stretched his wings out. “Though first you are getting some rest. You look like you are about to collapse.”
Part of me wanted to argue with the sergeant, but I nearly did collapse as I stood and was only saved by being able to lean against the wall. “Aye, a nap would likely help. Though only a short one.”
Stalwart gave me a pensive frown. “‘Twould be best if you got as much rest as you needed.”
I shook my head. “I am afraid there is not time for me to rest in bed as long as I would like.”
“An hour then,” he said firmly. “You will do nopony any good being dead on your hooves.”
That struck me as an acceptable compromise, all things considered. “Thou dost promise to wake me in an hour’s time? By thy honor?”
Stalwart hesitated before answering. “I promise by the honor of my clan and as a pony of the Royal Guard.”
That was as good of a promise I was going to receive from the sergeant. In truth, if he let me sleep as long as my body desired, I knew not how long I would lie in bed. All I could do was trust that his word was good on this matter. “Then let us go to the magnates’ home so that I can find the rest I require.”
Stalwart Kicker was true to his word. About an hour after I had fallen asleep, I felt the old soldier gently shake me awake. I groaned and rubbed at my face, desiring nothing more than to go back asleep.
“Do you need more rest, Magus?” he asked quietly.
I heard the concern in his voice and his desire for me to say yes, and I was sorely tempted to say I did. Instead, I silently cursed the warlocks that forced me to wake. “Neigh, I will manage.” I sat up on the bed, fatigue making my body feel twice as heavy.
Stalwart offered me a hoof to help me sit up on the couch. “Carrot Juice is in the kitchen and has a remedy ready for you. As well as a little more for you to eat if you can stomach it.”
I had managed to eat a little before the knots in my belly kept me from eating more, but now I did feel as though I could eat a little more, even if my appetite was not great at the moment. “I can try and eat a bit, though I am more interested in the remedy right now.” To emphasize, I blew my nose with a handkerchief, trying to give some relief to my head.
“Let me get her, then.” Stalwart walked to the kitchen, and returned with Carrot Juice in tow.
As seemed to be her way, the earth pony fixed me with a sour look as she carried a tray into the living room. “So ye managed to become sick, did ye?”
“Not by choice,” I grumbled, coughing when a twinge caught in my throat.
“Not many ponies get sick on purpose.” The old mare paused, and let out a dry chuckle. “Well, unless you count the children when they want to get out of chores.”
I watched as she put the tray down on the low-standing table in front of the couch. “I suppose that would be something children on a farm would do?”
“Often enough. Farm work is not easy, if ye did not know. And usually boring.” Carrot Juice picked up a mug and offered it to me. “The remedy ye asked for. It should help clear ye up.”
Taking the mug, I looked its contents and gave it a quick sniff, trying to identify the concoction. “What is this? I do not recognize it.”
“Bluebush root extract,” Juice said. “It helps cure most illnesses.”
I blinked and put the mug back down on the tray. “Neigh, I will not be drinking that. ‘Tis poison for a unicorn.” From what I had learned, the medicine could damage many of my organs before running its course. Possibly even killing me.
The herbalist frowned and pushed the mug back towards me. “Drink. Grandmother has been giving this cure to ponies since she was a filly. Nopony has fallen over dead from it before.”
“And I am willing to bet that all of those ponies were earth ponies.” I pushed the mug away again, determined to have no part of the drink. I recalled my enchanting lessons from my tutor, Morning Star. Many components used in enchanting could have a variety of purposes, including creating potions and remedies. I remembered how bluebush was a popular medicine amongst the earth ponies, but ‘twas far too potent for unicorns and pegasi. “‘Tis fine for a earth pony’s constitution but it can only make a unicorn sick.” (2)
2. This isn’t entirely correct. Bluebush root can be used to treat certain diseases, but the dosage has to be much more carefully measured for non-earth ponies. An earth pony’s higher resistance to poisons allows them to be able to deal with the higher dosages that earth pony herbalists often used during this time period. As a result, unicorn and pegasi herbalists usually prefered using other safer and easier to use medicines.
Carrot Juice let out a frustrated sigh and picked up the mug. “Fine. If ye refuse the remedy I offer, then ye can keep being sick.”
Better sick than dead, I thought. A dark crossed my thoughts. Had the herbalist apprentice just attempted to poison me, or had Juice merely been ill-informed on the potency of her remedy? ‘Twas not impossible the mare was in council with the warlocks I sought. The problem was that I did not have much evidence to act on—yet. There was so much I wished to do, but so little time to do it.
I waved dismissively. “I will use what remains in my healer’s kit. It will be fine, I assure thee.”
Juice rolled her eyes. “I wish I had known ye would not need me before I had gone through the trouble of mixing this. Now ‘twill go to waste.”
“My apologies, but I do not desire to have my liver bleed internally at this time ... or ever, really. I like my organs whole and healthy, like most ponies.” I hoped that did not sound too morbid. Gale, amongst others, had been trying to keep me from being too morbid. I thought they were being overly cautious, but I did not wish to offend.
“Uh-huh.” Juice dumped the mug outside the window. “At least eat something. Ye will not recover if ye do not put something in your belly.”
“Aye of course,” I said, casting a spell to detect for poison in my food and drink.
After I had eaten and taken some more of my remedies, Stalwart and I made our way back into Appleton. I decided our first course of action should be to find Gale using a tracking spell. While it was not as efficient as using hair or blood to track a pony, I could track Gale through the armor I had enchanted for her over at least short distances. Morning Star was one of the foremost enchanters in Equestria, and she had taught me many tricks, including being able to detect my own more powerful works from afar. It was a feat I had not told my friend I was capable of. She had made a point to remove any tracking runes I had carved into any of the other enchanted objects I had given to her. Gale did not like being tracked, though she had not made too much of an objection to my attempts thus far.
In any event, I could pass off my ability to find her as a result of me happening upon her, rather than the use of a spell. At least if I did not use the spell too much. Gale would grow suspicious if I found her too easily too often.
Fortunately, it was not that hard to find Gale. I saw her standing with Red Steel and Silent Forest near the courthouse. Gale and Red seemed to be in a serious discussion with one another as I approached them.
Gale gave me a concerned frown. “Midnight, I thought thou wouldst remain at the farm? Wert thou successful in disarming that ritual?”
I shook my head. “Neigh, there were unforeseen difficulties. I am considering my options before trying again.” I decided it would be best not to mention the fact that I had nearly fallen to a trap while in the dreamscape. It seemed unwise to tell Red or anypony that might be eavesdropping on us exactly how much I suspected about Appleton’s murderers. “In the meantime, I thought it best to check with you two to see how you have progressed.”
“Grand.” Red Steel’s annoyed huff spoke of what she thought of the news of my failure. “Good to hear that your rest was put to good use while I have been up all night working.”
“Reeed.” Gale drawled out in a reproachful tone. “If Midnight did not succeed, then ‘twas because her task was difficult. ‘Tis not as though we are out of options yet.”
I chose to ignore Red’s needling, as annoying as it was, and instead focused on more important matters. “What didst thou discover during thy search? Didst thou find Applesauce?”
“Neigh,” Red grumbled. “His kin are hiding him from me, I am sure of it. But that is not the worst of it.”
Stalwart glanced around us, looking for danger. “What has passed?”
“For one, I could not find the deputy I put in charge of keeping Applesauce in his cell. Nopony has seen him since last night.” Red’s eyes turned to a large, squat building made of brick. “And the militia armory has been raided. A score and more of hammer-hooves and spears are now missing.”
Looking the building that must have been the armory, I saw that its front door had been broken in. A few good bucks from some earth ponies could have done such a thing. “That is troubling.” That many armed ponies could do much harm to anypony that became the focus of their attention. “Dost thou believe that some ponies are forming a lynch mob?”
“Aye, most likely.” Red Steel rubbed at her face, the bags under her eyes obvious. “Ponies have been riled up because of the murders.”
“I concur. Especially after what I discovered today,” Gale said ominously. “I was suspicious of Subtle, and so followed her into town. She talked with a few different ponies ere she went into some of the woods north of here. There, I saw her talking and making merry with Applesauce and a score of other ponies. Mostly Apples from the looks of them. Apple Butter was amongst them also, and she seemed to be working them up into a frenzy. Namely against thee, Midnight.”
“Me?” I contemplated the information I was being given. “I have indeed offended them enough to muster ‘gainst me?”
“Aye.” Red narrowed her eyes at me. “For you see, multiple ponies in town saw you—” She was interrupted when Subtle Song came galloping up to all of us.
Gale inserted herself between Subtle and me, and her wings flared out, wingblades bared. “Halt right there!”
“W-wait!” gasped Subtle, stopping short and backstepping away from Gale. “I-I need to tell you—”
“Magus!” I heard Apple Butter screamed as she and a score of angry looking ponies came around the courthouse, marching in our direction. She and her mob stopped well short of the rest of us. Jabbing a hoof directly at me, Apple Butter roared, “That is her! That is the pony who burned down my home!”
With multiple warlocks lurking about Appleton with their foul black ritual coming ever nearer to completion, I now had to deal with the dubious loyalties of Subtle Song, a small mob of ponies who believed I had burned down Apple Butter’s home when I had done no such thing, and potentially a full coven of warlocks that might control the town. Why did this day have to keep getting worse?
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For our amusement, of course!
4934402
Indeed. Midnight's continual suffering is second only to her unintentional creepiness in terms of endearing qualities.
Poor Midnight. If this keeps up she'll have half of Equestria against her soon! Apples out to kill her, at least one of the warlocks is likely a higher ranking Carrot, Subtle is questionable, Red has a...poor opinion of her, and those are the ponies on her side!
"Granted, my mother had named me after herself"
Eh? But her mother's name is "Sunbeam"… unless this is a hint at Midnight's origin, perhaps?
4935338 I believe she's referring to "Sparkle." Sunbeam Sparkle, Midnight Sparkle. It's been established that there is no Sparkle noble house at this time, as that comes sometime after the war in honor of Sunbeam's reforms.
4935361
Ah, that could be it, I suppose.
4935338
Yeah, it's referencing the "Sparkle" part of her name.
4935433
Thanks!
Gale and Stalwart work her to the point of exhaustion day in and day out since the start of the trip, making certain she is already too tired to make that jungle climb. Then, when her stress-weakened immune system fails her and she gets sick, Gale states it's her own fault.
Gale is just such a thoroughly magnificent friend. It reminds me so strongly of that time, at the beginning of the fic, where Midnight just wanted to go to the theater and, instead, nearly got killed by a bunch of criminals during Gale's poorly-planned operation to kill one of Sunbeam's contacts as a fun little prank.
I mean, seriously, Midnight really does bring this upon herself. By associating with Gale. Who is an asshole.
Mind control/manipulation much?
4934900
Again, no less!
4929778
Shit, now I'm gonna hear that forever... Ah well, I liked Grey DeLisle as Sunbeam better anyway
4938381
First of all, Gale and Stalwart assholes. They're dicks! But you are right, they did go a little too far in their pursuit. Keep in mind, Gale does care for Midnight. Problem with that is that sh'ed be even tougher on the poor girl because of it.
Wow... You know, when Shadow and Gale are a stabilizing factor in your life, you know your mother is a first class fuck up of a mare
An interesting assertion considering the inherent cruelty of pegasi
Well, I'm just days and days late to this chapter, didn't mean to take so long to get to it.
Huh. Luna, is that you? Suddenly I'm wondering if she kept up with her dream warden duties while trapped in the moon.
I'm still thinking that Subtle is the Heartstrings ancestor that was ennobled for some act for the crown, and given what we know about that family I'd imagine she was just playing the role of a spy and Gale is misinterpreting things.
4963420 what cruelity is that? At most Swift Blade's clan is and issue. But Red's Striker clan is though but was misguided in the war and at most maybe one or two members might have taught Hammer about Clipping.
5243992
Its not to one clan specifically. Its to the whole tribe. To wit, without their wings, one cannot be a pegasus. They cannot join in pegasi festivals or culture, own a cloud house or live amongst their own. Why do you think clipping is regarded with such horror> In their mind, to lose them is to lose everything. Bless her soul, Red's been a beautiful trooper through it all. No doubt in her place, her worthless brother would have slit his own throat, the sniveling whelp. And she's worth ten of her so called father, at least in my opinion
5244169 I bet all the tribes have dark histories they rather forget. i think you are being unfair to the Pegasus as a whole.
5244178
Hmm... perhaps I've been somewhat... harsh, in my assesment. Earth ponies probably got a few sjeletonsm and unicorns... yeah, when Sunbeam Sparkle is the most upright and decent mare among you, you may need to start doing a major overhaul of your caste.
But thats just it... the pegasi should have known better. And that's what disappoints me. At least there's some hope for Gale though.
5244216 the thing is what is the pegasi had to deal with recently? I power play for that is what the Lunar Rebellion was at it's heart. Swift blade was desperate to get Luna back and the Ephorate was so use to being the end of the line that events down spiraled quickly. And even then I think the main reason the Ephorate had such numbers was Clan loyalty rather then the belief of Celestia's poor handling. That's why what Cyclone did to Shadow hurt so much, she expected him to have issues with her choice but thought she could at least count on his loyalty. That was sadly proven false. On the whole the Pegasi our honorable but the handful of bad ponies in the right spots can be devastatiing.
5244251
In short, they had four walls to keep out the cold, food in their bellies that didn't make them sick, honor as soldiers... and they throw it all away chasing after some ghost. All the innocent sacrificed upon the altars of their stubborness and pride.
Strange. Foolish. Evil.
5246889 again the fault lies with some of the leadership not the Pegasi in general. At most the Pegasi on the whole would have an issue with Celestia berating the Ephorate on a move I would have agreed with. and the miss managed Clipping investigation. The rest were simply power plays by the Ephorate. From a Pegasus perspective their loyalty goes in this order. Clan, Pegasapolis, Equestria. That loyalty tree makes it difficult for a single Pegasi to go against clan if they disagree with the clan leader. That's why Cyclone's actions were so hurtful to Shadow.She expected him not to be happy with her from the previous conversations but to try to strip her of her title and leadership was a crossed line. The key villians in this whole Rebellion is Hammer Striker, Appletree, Swift Blade.
Well, I've drawn up profiles on Cloud, Shadow, and Sunbeam... And I've got one thing to say about Midnight
She's a good girl
A bit of a pension for the dramatic, but is actually a good decent person despite Sunbeam... raising of her, if it can be called that. Midnight a sweet, if somewhat naive and lasy, mare. Not as "brilliant" as her mother, but considering who that is, she may be better without it.
And Stalwart is naive in a different way. Magus carry those doorstopper books for a reason grunt, and its best for a soldier not to tell a unicorn their business.
And Gale's a dirty old bussard
She met Midnight at the age of 10, watched her grow, and now is trying to jump her bones. I aint judging. GRASS ON THE FIELD GALE, YOU PLAY!
AND WOULD JUST HITCH UP WITH CELESTIA ALREADY SHADOW! TIS BEST TO TEND THE FIELD THAT'S OFT BEEN PLOWED, AND CELESTIA GOT A LOT OF ACREAGE TO TEND TO!
Also... how was Midnight a bastard in the first place. She knew who her parents were.
5341956
Her parents never married, technically making her a bastards. At least by Unicornian standards of such things.
5344818
So... when not battling eldritch horrors or looking down their cute little noses at plebien and savages, the unicorns spend their time making inane, polarised, and nonsensical laws... No wonder the Rebellions happened.
How bad was it though> How bad were things with Equestria before they turned> And who told Celestia that three different forms of governance was not a way to do things.
Also... Where you guys get a lot of your stuff> I see a bit of everything here... Earth ponies seem the odd ones out, democracy and all. Do they merely select a represantive and this verse has a House of Commons, or are they just well fed serfs> Unicorns seem to go for the stand by old mercenary families of yesteryear. Pegasi seem an odd mix of spartan culture with japanese samuria twist here and there. But a lot of how they work reminds me more of the Janissary then anything.
Also.... and you may not know, but Ive asked and never got a reply... What sort of thing is the cult of Shadow. At face value it seems odd to worship a simple mare, however wonderful she was. Revered, respected, and held as example, but it seems odd as a religion compared to the one for Celestia. I've been writing it as a sort of reverse Buddhism, with Shadow being the highest state of being, but I may be mistaken.
Well, those laws are a result of Medieval ideas of inheritance. It infinitely complicates arranged power politics marriages and succession and inheritance of property when one's bastards can also inherit property and titles. Such things lead to civil wars and other nastiness.
What do you mean with how bad things were? You mean in general? Because overall the quality of life in Equestria during this time period was actually quite good, all things considered. Though there were significant problems that needed addressed. Like the growing income gap between the richest and common earth ponies.
For myself, I draw a lot of my inspiration from reading about history, and drawing on historical parallels plus reading political intrigue books like those written by David Weber. The earth ponies very much have their own, full government and are not a bunch of serfs serving their unicorn masters. They have a representative democracy, and have their own set of laws like the other pony breeds. Unicornia is based off of Medieval Europe with its nobility and guilds, and Pegasopolis is based off the Spartans, a little bit of the Romans, and a touch of semi-nomadic steppe peoples.
The Cult of Shadow is a bit of an odd one from a modern Western point of view. Basically it's an honored ancestor cult (And by cult, I mean that by the Classical meaning, not the modern negative meaning of the word). She is seen as an example to follow, as well as the progenitor of the modern Kicker Clan. It would be more appropriate to draw from the old cults of Antiquity, like the worship of dead Emperors in the Roman Empire, or figures of worship in Eastern cults like the Bodhisattva within Buddhism.
I'm really enjoying this story so far. I think your doing a good job of not limiting what happens in the lunar rebellion.
5348443
Ahh yes... the age old practice of putting ones foals on the sacrificial pire to gain some petty financial or political edge. Rather then, you know, sitting down and hashing things out. To her credit, Sunbeam has gotten past this infantile train of thought, but Midnight is probably more susceptible, especially with her... insular upbringing.
Mmm... that was part of it. But I think there was something more... How often did the clans, or pegasi, spend with their fellows? You know... the people they were supposed to protect? The ponies who healed their wounds, enchanted their arms, put food on their tables, and got a knife to the back when Striker and the fruits of Bright Chargers overactive loins got a wild hair up their plots and started chasing ghosts?
Poor Swiftwing... Useless father didn't even have the decency to see her off himself... I bet that had to hurt as much as the clipping. Hows she been before this story? Did she have at least a decent life away from her clan?
How much pegasi interacted with non-pegasi differed from pegasus to pegasus. Some would have spent long periods of time interacting with non-pegasi, either professionally or socially, and some have barely even touched the ground. Overall, they probably have at least a passing familiarity with non-pegasi. Just they spend most of their time on their duties.
Swiftwing has overall managed to lead a relatively happy and successful life. It's not the life she really wanted, but she has worked out a niche for herself. Granted, she would have prefered to be a warrior, and she has a ton of baggage due to what has happened to her.
5446667
that's sort of the problem. Because of their chosen isolation, the only perspective they get is other pegasi. Now, you could say Midnight is naive... but so are Gale and Stalwart. Not judging, just saying that every citizen problem needs a hoof to the head.... as for Gale, I'd imagine more then a few parents object to her using their children as her ears, and probably wouldn't care to be manipulated themselves. Another example that leaps to mind is Stalwart telling Midnight to appear infinitely wise and powerful, to act as a leader. But that's not her job, is it? Her job is to attend to the current sealed evil in a can of the week, and Stalwarts is to keep her alive and stand looking pretty. Gale... I have no clue why she's there. Martial training and evaluation of her abilities could be dealt with by another soldier, and her skill set seems more black ops then front line soldier.
Anything to turn the old screws on Sunbeam eh?
The old dams really gonna spit her bit if Gale actually sleeps with Midnight.
I doubt that will happen. In Lunar Rebellion, Gale seemed to be a heartbeat from adopting her as a daughter (specifically, Sunbeam's last heartbeat...)
7406655
This is FiMfiction.net, and we have the Apple Family involved. It now HAS to happen.
Ah, NMM is still keeping an eye on Midnight, after all, she has plans for the mare.
Okay, either Mayor Carrot or Granny Carrot is with the warlocks, the foals' "rambunctiousness" right after the two Carrots learned about Midnight's plan to disrupt the ritual is too convenient. And the bluebush tea probably was an attempt to poison Midnight.
The question is, were the sacrificed Carrots are a "necessary evil" to speed up the ritual, or were they just the ones who wouldn't toe the clan line?
Hmm...I have to wonder if someone near the children might have compelled the innocent youths to muck about with Midnight's supplies. It's a passing fancy, but would allow the Magus to be bothered with little risk to the warlock doing such.
...That is suspiciously specific, and does not bode well. Especially since we're not even halfway through
I find it interesting that Midnight is using oce spells go combat the trees. Fire seems so much more obvious, especially with her mother being her foremost magic teacher. And Sunset, albeit some 900 years in the future makes a point that a pyromancer will be skilled with ice spells as well because they naturally complement each other. The heat you remove to make an icewall can be used to cast a fireball.
Dangnabbit! The kids were mind compelled to destroy her tools? So the warlock was in the house at the time then.
Oh... So they saw her do a crime, good thing there isn't a certain bard here that was seen making a copy of her the day before... Now are they framing just Midnight, or Subtle too.
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Apple Tree was akin to one trying to cut out a cancer with a fish hook. He and his followers weren’t wrong that their was a disease in earth pony society, to wit the predatory monopolization of all the farmland by the magnates, and that it needed to be addressed.
I hesitate to call Apple Tree a villain, he was a well-meaning fool out of his depth trying to brute force a solution to a terrible but complex problem.