• Published 24th Oct 2013
  • 749 Views, 4 Comments

Legends of the Night - Iggypots



Vampires and werewolves are just stories, right? Hear the tales of how these creatures came to haunt Equestria.

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The Werewolves

"Welcome to my shack, neighbor. Close the door and come on in. I don't have much to offer in the way of hospitality, but I can at least give shelter and a fire to somepony way out here in the wilds. Have a seat."

The unicorn closed the door. The shack was dark and windowless; the only light was from the fire. He took the offered bench by the fire, trying to look at his host, who was half-hidden by shadow. Lighting his horn would have been rude, and he didn't consider it. He could see a battered hat, a thickly bearded face, and the fur on the limbs was rather thick.

"Name's Silver Gleam. Been living out here most my life. I'm just a prospector who likes to keep to himself, excepting present company, of course. Now, neighbor, excuse my being curious, but what brings you to my little piece of Equestria?"

"I'm called Dust Glimmer. I'm a scholar of folklore, and I'm interested in the subject of werewolves. I'm curious about the truth behind these legends."

"Werewolves, huh? Searching for the truth of the old legends? Can't say that's a healthy line of research, but far be it for me to tell a stallion his business. You got a interesting bit of luck, friend, because I just so happen to know a little about them." Silver chucked and kicked a fresh stick into the flames.

"Got to, out here. This is where they live. Out and away from the cities and towns, where they can run around like beasts. Oh yes, they're real all right, believe you me." The hermit nodded, staring into the fire. "Got one around these parts they call Winter Wolf, because just hearing his howl can freeze you in place. So they say. Bet the locals told you stories about him."

"He's something of a local legend, yes." Dust said as he magically pulled his notes and a quill from his bag.

Silver nodded. "Been stalking this land for nearly a generation. I'm sure you know the basics: on certain nights, he turns into a wild, wolf-like beast, with a taste for flesh. Especially that of other ponies." He lowered his voice, and Dust leaned forward, straining to hear him over the fire. "Fangs and claws that can tear a fellow apart. Strong enough to tear your leg off. Faster than any pony, excepting a pegasus in the air. And all the cunning and savagery of the wolf he resembles."

Dust looked up from his note-taking. "If he's so fearsome, how is it you've survived so long out here?"

His host chuckled again. "Maybe I'm too old and stringy for him. Or maybe I've just gotten good at surviving over the years."

"Where did he come from?"

Silver turned towards the unicorn for the first time. The firelight glowed in his eyes. He regarded his guest a moment, then grunted and turned back to the fire. "Who knows? Likely, when his curse came on him, he just figured this area would be a good hunting ground." He glanced at Dust. "The locals tell you about The Werewolf Curse?"

Dust shook his head. "No, but I would certainly like to hear about it."

Silver poured himself a cup of water from a jug, then poured a second and held it out for his guest. Dusk pulled to him with his magic, and murmured his thanks. "Well, the curse of a werewolf is carried in his bite. Can't say I know the how or why of it. Most times when a werewolf attacks a pony, that pony dies. Of course, a pony who is lucky or clever enough might get away. And sometimes, a werewolf decides to let a victim live. Guess its an instinctual thing; keep the race going, and all that. Heard one story says that the werewolf gives his curse to ponies that fight back with the ferocity of a beast. Not sure about that one, but who knows."

Dust's quill was moving quickly and smoothly. "Where did this curse come from? Is it a disease, or a spell, or...?"

Silver took a sip of water. "Its a curse, like you said, like I said. The old-fashioned kind. Now, I've heard several different stories about how the werewolves came about. So I'll tell you the one I heard the most." He paused to stretch, forelimbs cracking and creaking.

"This happened way back when, before Princess Luna became Nightmare Moon. Back when the evil began to settle in her heart.

"See, there were these series of murders in... well, where it was changes with the story, but usually a peaceful, prosperous city. Ponies found in alleys, or unused buildings, all cut up, torn up and chewed on. Well, folks figured there was some wild animal loose in the city. Eventually, though, the guards started finding knives with the bodies, and they knew it weren't no critter.

"Took some time, but they eventually caught the killer when some mare he was stalking got away from him and was screaming bloody murder. Pretty appropriate in that situation." Silver cackled. "Turns out it was some mad earth pony, and he was ranting and raving about how he couldn't help himself. They found knives on him. Found all sorts of meat and bones in his home. And it weren't no fish, either.

Silver ran his tongue along his teeth. Dust, intent on taking notes, didn't notice. "Well, they dragged him before the Princesses. Even back then, his crimes beyond the pale. Now, the stories usually go that Celestia was, like now, more interested in healing and forgiveness than punishment. She wanted to try and fix whatever that poor bastard had wrong in his noggin. As for Luna, well, here's where that evil I mentioned earlier comes into play. She was furious and disgusted, and she looked him right in his eyes. Then she cursed him, with these words:

"'You are a Beast! You have always been a Beast, and you will always be a Beast!'

"And she stamped her hoof three times, and he started changing..." Silver put a hoof to his chest and growled. "Excuse me," he said, waving a hoof at Dust, who was looking up in concern. "Just a little congestion. Its rough living out here." After taking a swig of water, he continued.

"Well, he broke away from the guards, fled the castle, and ran off into the night. Well, Celestia wasn't too happy about what happened, but she couldn't undo what her sister did. But, being Princess of the Sun, she was able to make it so the curse didn't have any effect during the day. Incidentally, that's why werewolves only turn at night.

"And that's the legend. Don't know if any it is true, but there you are."

Dust exhaled. Listening to, and recording, that story had been somewhat draining. "That's... quite a tale." He refreshed himself with a drink of water. "What of the other beliefs about werewolves? That silver hurts them, that they have a moon-like mark on their bodies, things of that sort?"

Silver took a deep breath, and kicked at a log sticking out of the fire. "Well, the story about silver is true. Don't have a story for that one, but somepony once said she supposes that because silver is-" Silver's voice had started to change, growing deeper. He paused, stopping to clear his throat and take another drink before continuing. "Silver is seen as representing the moon, and it was the Princess of the Moon which had laid the Curse. Other things that symbolize the moon might hurt them too, but I don't know about that.

"Now, as for the moon mark, and all those stories about how you can tell somepony is a werewolf, well, most of that is horse-apples. I can tell you that for sure. They don't have no mark, and no fangs when they're in pony form. Its pretty hard to tell, truth be told, but there's a few signs." Dust looked across the fire at him in rapt attention.

"For one thing, they got a gleam in their eye. Sort of like a cat. Mind you, its got to be dark, and you got to catch just the right angle. Like, if you was a werewolf, I wouldn't see it right now, because the firelight reflecting in your eyes would hide that glow." Silver leaned back away from the flames, the shadows covering him more deeply.

"Another way is to look at their coat. Tends to grow a bit thicker than on a normal pony."

Dust felt a cool trickle down the back of his neck.

"Other than that, you got to look at how they act at night. They don't have to turn every night, but if there's a nice, hot, delicious pony nearby, well," Dust heard Silver smack his lips, "They can get a bit excited... You ever hunt?"

"You mean, for fish? I tried it once. Couldn't really see the appeal." Dust stood up, and made a show of stretching. Actually, he was feeling too nervous to sit. He chided himself for letting the old stallion's stories scare him.

"Yeah, me either." He chucked again, a little more deep and gravelly than before. "Well neighbor, I think I've told you all I can; well, outside of a few stories the villagers could likely tell you anyway. You can stay the night if you like, but all I got to offer is a blanket on ground..."

Dust rolled up his notes and stored them away. "No, that's quite alright. I have a place to stay at a farm. I thank you for your time, though. Its been quite informative."

Silver raised a hoof in farewell. "Come back anytime, friend."

Dust opened the door. He was surprised to see night had fallen not long ago. So intent was he on hearing Silver's stories, he'd lost track of time. As he closed the door, he glanced back at the hermit. He thought he saw two points of light just above the fire, but his glimpse had been too brief to be sure. He started down the trail back to the farm, with the chill of dread pressing on his back. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore, and started galloping.

Back in the shack, Silver Gleam kicked dirt over the fire. In the darkness, he chuckled. There was a dry sound of cracking. Then a sound like wet cloth being ripped. There were heavy footsteps, then the creak of the door being opened, and then a howl...