A Device for Divine

by stanku

Chapter VII

Above the road from Owl Moor to Damp Town, a group of four pegasi, a stallion and three mares, was flying towards the Forest. Two of them, dressed in uniforms, were carrying saddlebags filled with letters and other mail. Behind them, the stallion was arguing loudly with another mare about something family related. The mailponies were doing their best to ignore them, for with the bags they could not quite outfly them. Besides, that wouldn’t have been proper, supposing that they were supposed to guide them to Damp Town.

“It’s not the point!” cried the mare behind them. She had this voice that naturally made the listener guard against something, even when she wasn’t shouting. “It’s our wedding! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does,” responded the stallion annoyedly, staring gloomily ahead. “That’s exactly why I’d rather keep my family’s side restricted to my father and his uncles.”

“But she is your sister!” she went on, her hooves gathering strength into the argument by waving fervently.

“Half-sister,” he said automatically. He sighed heavily. “Do we have to go through this again? In front of everypony? I already agreed that I’ll invite her… personally.”

The mare flew a bit closer to him. “And I’m grateful for that,” she said, her voice gentler now. It still had this innate sense of opposition built in, but now it was emphatic opposition. “You can’t be angry at each other forever. Family is important.”

“She isn’t my family,” he muttered. “Never was.”

She looked at him sadly. “I think we should spend the night there.”

His unbelieving eyes darted at her. “What? No! The night in that last village was bad enough.” He glanced quickly at the two mares flying ahead. “No offense!” he said quickly before looking at her again. “This dampness is killing me. And with her around, it’s not quick enough!”

She had to chuckle at that, but the serious expression returned soon enough. “I’m serious. You should suggest it.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Nopony could insist like Ruby Lake did: it was practically a second nature to her. With some resistance, he closed his mouth tightly and nailed his eyes forward. “I might mention it. But I won’t start selling the idea.”

Lake smiled and smoothed her fiancé’s mane. “Oh? I thought you could sell humility to a griffon on a good day?”

Ahead of them, the two mailponies exchanged a look. They weren’t been paid enough for this.
Sometime during the next hour they arrived in Damp Town. In there, the mailponies headed quickly to the town hall to deliver their load, leaving the young couple in the middle of the village. It was quiet there, and a hefty amount of the morning mist was still hanging around, wrapping the village into a fine grey cloak.

“Where is everypony?” asked Lake, looking around in the apparently deserted village.

“How should I know? I’ve never been here,” answered the stallion, hoping that’d they’d be leaving already. His asthma disagreed with every inch of this place. “All I know is that she lives in the eastern end of the town, wherever that is.”

“You’re such a city-pony,” said Lake with amusement, heading East. “Come, she must be expecting us.”

“I’m sure she is,” he grumbled. Already he could feel his lungs complaining. Nonetheless, he followed her through the misty village.

Behind them, one of the steamy windows was wiped from the other side. From within, a pair of eyes followed them disappear into the grey velvet. When they were gone, a figure emerged from the building and headed towards the town hall.

“Could they all be sleeping still?” wondered Lake while they walked.

“Or maybe my half-sister’s presence has cast a curse upon them all, dooming them into eternal oblivion,” he ventured. This received a sharp look from her part.

“You could at least try to be conciliating, you know.”

“Oh, I am, believe me…”

She shook her head. “Whatever did she do to you? Steal your Wonderbolt doll when you were little?”

She’d have burned it instead, had she ever found it. “It’s… complicated. It wasn’t just her, it was her mother, too. After my father had remarried, things were… well, complicated.” He paused, eyes looking at the grey nothingness before him. The mist seemed only to get thicker at the edge of the village, which made no sense, although his brain ignored the observation for now. “I think she liked the new family even less than I did. And I hated it.”

“And so you ended up hating each other,” said Lake quietly.

He kept his quiet. She didn’t try to break it. The scream that lanced through them did.

“You heard that?” he asked, stopping and looking behind.

“Of course I did!” she said, whirling around. “What–”

Another scream. This one was cut abruptly in half, and the echoes sank quickly in the ever thickening mist. The two ponies moved closer to each other, heads turning quickly from side to side along with their ears.

“Was that… one of the mailponies?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t the only thing trembling now. “I think it was.”

“Maybe she tripped or something,” he said. Saying it aloud didn’t help much.

“Like hay she did! Didn’t you hear how she–”

A growl. A deep, creeping, beastial growl. It came from near them, very near. You could taste the bloodlust in it, the hunger, the starving rage. It was near.

The stallion’s wings unfolded. “Lake. On your wings. Now.”

Lake, panting in freight, followed his example. Next, her instinct made her turn her head: not her heart, not her reason; her instinct, older than her race. She saw movement, no, a shadow of movement, a ghost of it. It came from the mist, silent as a paw sprinting on grass, fast as an arrow. Feral as a wolf.

The last thing she saw was a leap.

***

Heavy white light filled Twilight’s vision, weighing her eyes even when she closed them. Too bright, she thought. It’s too bright. She turned on her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow. The light was left outside, but something else took its place: a voice. She knew that voice, would know it anywhere. She peeked from the confines of the pillow, afraid of finding herself in another dream.

Sitting by her bed, Shining Armor smiled. “Twily,” he said. “I–”
Twilight threw herself around his neck, almost tumbling them both on the floor. She made a sound like crying and hugged him tightly.

“Don’t be a dream, don’t be a dream, don’t be a dream,” she muttered.

“I’m not,” he said calmly.

“And neither am I,” said another voice. Twilight recognized that, too.

“Cadance!” she cried, seeing the pink alicorn. She reached for her with a hoof, but her brother’s embrace kept her leashed. Cadance smiled at that as she walked to them and joined the hug. It was a long hug.

“You’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you,” said Twilight finally, gradually falling back to her bed. Her head felt light as a feather, at least from the inside, and the lighting really could have been a tad more dim.

Armor tried her brow with the side of his hoof. “How are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” she said hurriedly. “Listen, you must hear this. We fought this thing called the Witch with Flutter–where’s Fluttershy?” Her face fell all blank mid-sentence. “Where is she?”

“Still sleeping,” said Cadance. “She is absolutely okay, but we thought it best to let you sleep in different rooms. Both of you needed all the rest you could get.” She tilted her head in the way she often had when Twilight had been only a filly. “You sure you don’t need it anymore?”

“Yes,” said Twilight immediately. “Look, this is important! You must know about the–”

Armor lowered his hoof from her brow to her mouth. “Twi, we know. Celestia told us everything. Relax.”

Twilight blinked. “The Princess? How did she know?”

Cadance and Armor exchanged a look.

“Luna told her. Don’t you remember that she was there?” said Cadance, looking at Twilight again. Her neck was straight, but her voice curved via worry.

“Luna?” repeated Twilight, frowning. “Eh? Was she?” The feathers of her mind rustled as if a massive pillow war had just taken place there.

“Okay, pillow time. Doctor’s orders,” said Armor gently. “You can tell us all about it in a few hours.” He pushed her gently against the sheets.

Twilight resisted, and not that gently. “Knock it off, Doctor,” she said. “I’m not tired, I’m just… confused… I can’t sleep when I’m confused.” Her stomach chose the most ample time to growl. “Also, I’m hungry.”

Armor looked at Cadance, desperate for support.

“She is telling the truth,” she said. “I always had to choose short books for her bedtime stories. She wouldn’t lay down until she knew how they ended.” As Armor turned his face away, Cadance winked at Twilight.

“Okay, fine, but take it easy, will you?” he said, backing away. “Do you have trouble remembering what happened?”

Twilight got off the bed, with some fumbling. “A bit… So, did Luna bring me and Fluttershy here? And ‘here’ is Canterlot, right?”

Armor and Cadance nodded. “She got to your aid just in time. She told us you were both exhausted at that point.”

“I guess we were…” said Twilight, giving her best not to sway as she stood up. “I mean, it was just wild… Gosh, even I have trouble believing it really happened!” She took a step, then another. So far so good.

“Indeed,” said Armor grimly. “A real Witch in Equestria? That should make the headlines.”

“In the meantime, brunch!” said Cadance. “I think we still have some left in the western tower.”

“But it’s pretty long way off,” said Armor.

“Stop fussing over me already,” said Twilight, punching her brother. “I can walk, but I don’t want to wander too far. I need to be close when Fluttershy wakes up.”

“In that case you might as well eat here,” said Cadance, walking to the door. “I’ll let the kitchen know.” She closed the door behind her.

“You sure you’re fine?” asked Armor.

Twilight gave him a look. “Yes. A bit jumbled and starving, but fine.” She sat down on the bed again, for standing was not easing her dizziness.

“You mean you can’t remember everything?” he continued.

“Uhh… No, I got all the pieces and I know how they fit. But I have this feeling that it might have all been a dream, even though I know it wasn’t. It’s hard to put in words.” She lied down, eyes gradually closing. “Maybe I’ll take a quick nap while the food comes…”

Armor waited in silence for fifteen minutes, after which the quiet snoring started again. He covered her sister and left the room quietly. He waited outside until Cadance arrived with a full tray.

“She’s sleeping again,” he said.

“The poor thing must’ve gone through a lot,” she said, looking sadly at the door. As her eyes turned to him, a faint smile lit her face. “How about you?”

“She is unharmed, and that’s all that matters,” he answered flatly.

She looked at him carefully. “Still, you moved the ceremony.”

He cringed. “I’m sorry about that. I know how badly you want to move already. I should’ve asked from you first.”

She smiled emphatically. “Don’t apologize, there’s no need to. I’m simply worried about you, too. This must’ve come as a terrible shock.”

He sighed. “Honestly? I think I should’ve seen this coming. Sometimes I believe that Twilight is drawn to these things. Wasn’t it already months ago that she had to fight off an invading Changeling army?”

She smoothed his cheek with a hoof. “She is a very brave pony. You must be proud of her.”

“I could do with a bit less pride in that regard,” he said, enjoying her touch. “She can be so… stubborn at times.”

“I wonder whom she resembles in that,” she said, turning away. Armor followed by her side as they left the corridor.

“No need to look at me like that,” he said. “I’ve always been the reasonable one, no matter from whom you ask.”

She flashed a short smirk. “Oh? In that case I’m sure you’ll agree on leaving our old bed behind us.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it with a sigh. “Yes, Princess.”

***

The old barracks of the Royal Guard had been filled with bustle all day. It was very particular kind of bustle, the type where a pony who has nothing to do gets very lonely very fast. A sense of rush lingered in the air, along with an ambiguous oppressiveness that never left you, no matter how fast or tidily you packed your little life into a suitcase. It would only make you unpack it all, just to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything, even though you knew you hadn’t. The atmosphere was edgy enough that you might cut yourself with it.

Dewdrop dodged two stallions in a narrow corridor as they carried luggage to the numerous carriages that waited in the courtyard. The building was allegedly capable of housing half a thousand ponies, which was probably true, but she was terrified to think what might happen if they all tried to get out at the same time. Probably the main reason why the place has been empty for so long, she thought while pressing herself flat against the wall. Seriously, I’ve seen more loosely built birdhouses. After she could move again, Dewdrop continued trotting quickly along towards the C section of the barracks, where she had spent the last week of her life along with the ponies she once had called family. She wasn’t sure what they were now.

Will anything ever be the same anymore, after all this? Can I return to them someday? What will I do if I can’t? Those were the questions of the background, and even though she could feel the weight of them well enough, they didn’t demand an answer at once. They were the questions that could be toyed with. Her real problems were the things that toyed with her, throwing her around like a ragged doll and sticking to her coat like needles. Some of them sank deep enough to become more than just questions: they’d turn into accusations. This is your fault. You have to fix this. You will get what you deserve. You killed them. You killed them all. It was the last one that made her heart spasm. It was the one she could see written in the flame of a candle.

It took her two wrong turns to get to the door she sought. It was just like all the rest, with thick frames, a letter and a number inscribed into the unpainted wood. She pushed it open before her second thoughts could get to her.

Inside, four bunk beds stood. Bent over one of them was a mare over the better part of her life, packing some clothes and other items into a large suitcase. The wrinkles on her face danced as she saw who had come in.

“Oh good, you came back already. Start packing your things! We’ll be leaving within the hour, I just heard.” She went back into the packing, never minding the expression that Dewdrop had come up with just for this moment. This had not been totally unexpected.

“Agathea…” said Dewdrop, hoping that her tone would draw more attention. It did, but not in the way she had hoped.

“You know, I always did like ‘mother’ more,” said Agathea. “I can’t see why it should be any different now, I really don’t.” In a very intricate way, her packing became a tad more edgy.

Dewdrop had intended being gentle with her foster mother, but that line made an ill fit for the storm in her chest, just as it had done for the last thousand times before. “I won’t be coming with you,” she said with a level voice.

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

The sound of clothes being moved around filled the room for a moment.

“It’s that Horn Hill lad, isn’t it?” continued Agathea, completely immersed in her packing.

Dewdrop blinked and breathed for the first time in an eternity. “What?”

Agathea smiled at her over her shoulder. “I sometimes wonder how daft you think I am. Oh, I’ve seen you looking at him lately, and he sure isn’t minding it, let me tell you.” She turned her face away. “You don’t need to play bold with me: of course you can go to his carriage. If his parents approve, naturally.”

“I joined the Royal Guard.”

Agathea stopped moving. Dewdrop wondered if she should just leave now and be done with it, but she wiped the thought of out her mind before it could travel over to her legs. This needed to be done properly, for several reasons, most important of which had nothing to do with good manners.

“I will be travelling with them back to the village, to search the missing ponies,” she continued, voice steady as still water. “I came to say goodbye.”

The elder mare still didn’t move. The idea of legging it appeared again in Dewdrop’s mind, more insistently this time.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she said.

Agathea turned around, very slowly. The wrinkles on her face looked even more gnarled than usual. Her voice, too, had twisted beyond the casual fussiness that she so often used as a lid, a shield, and a weapon.

“You didn’t have the courage to wait Flick to come back, did you?”
No, I just had enough common sense. And memories. “I doubt he’d care that much,” said Dewdrop, trying her best not to back away. “I already packed my things. The Guard will accommodate me tonight.” That last part was a lie, or as she wanted to think it, a hope.

“After all these years… You finally showed your true color,” said Agathea coldly. “We saved you, we took you in. Without us, without this family, you’d be an orphan. Your brother too, wherever he is.”

Dewdrop said nothing. There was no point; this was all going on tracks she’d walked on her whole life. It was just a question of hearing the last of it.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, but I have no choice. Wet Mane–”

“–is dead,” finished Agathea. “A week lost in the Shallows? They’re all dead! And whatever killed them will get you too, silly girl, can’t you see it!” Her tongue lashed like a whip, spit flying as she spoke. “And you thought, you silly girl, you thought the Guard could help you with that? Hah! I don’t believe for a second that they’d let you in, a scrawny filly like you! No, don’t say anything, I don’t care to hear more excuses, I’ve heard them all my life, all my bloody life! Get out. Get out!” She stomped her hoof and screamed with a shrill, mad voice: “Get out, you freak! You bastard of a cursed W–”

And that was the end of that, thought Dewdrop as she closed the door, cutting Agathea’s curse in half. At least she didn’t throw me with anyth–

Something heavy hit the other side of the door, and she could hear china breaking. She galloped away, all the way outside to the streets, zigzagging past curious stares and angry shouts until her legs gave away under her, at which point she collapsed in an alley, panting. The trembling came soon after, resonating from her heart. A sense of terrible freedom washed over her, making her cry, making her laugh, both at the same time. A dream had come true, or perhaps it had ended, she couldn’t tell.

After a few minutes, she realized having left her luggage in the room.

***

Next morning, the Castle awoke in light rain. Armor couldn’t decide which he’d have preferred, rain or sunshine, for the day of his resigning ceremony. Obviously it wouldn't have any practical significance since the event was held inside in any case, but the weather had to mean something symbolic, right? It had snowed on the day he had become the Captain, so perhaps the rain marked a closure of sorts. Or could he detect a reflection of his own sentimentality in the drops dripping over the colored glass windows? He had asked Cadance about that in the morning, and she had said that generally rain referred to a new beginning. That made sense, so he’d stick with it.

He stole another glance past the curtain at the audience that was sitting in the comparatively small but beautifully decorated room, listening to Princess Celestia speaking of his valiant service and stuff like that. Cadance was sitting in the front row, along with Fluttershy and, worst of all, Twilight. Even if Armor couldn't decide which weather he preferred, he was certain that the inclusion of those three wasn’t to his liking. This was supposed to be a quiet and short formality, mostly meant for the officers and other Castle staff, but the presence of family always made things more… grand. He’d probably stumble in his words, even though the notes were practically tattooed on the back of his skull.

Twilight was smiling at least, and that was good. Yesterday had passed in storytelling, with Twilight and Fluttershy going over the events as well as they could, although the pegasus too had slightly worrying holes in her memory. Well, not holes as such, but this “sense that it wasn’t really real”, whatever that meant. But that was all past now, and they both seemed to be fine, so why mull over it too much? Nothing good would come out of that, he agreed with Celestia there. The Princess had been most attentive to the two ponies’ needs and worries, even more so than usual. Armor reasoned that she must have felt a touch of guilt, having sent them in the Shallows in the first place. She could be so very protective of Twilight.

The audience started clapping their hooves, a sure sign that Armor’s turn was almost at hoof. He cleared his throat, made sure that his uniform had not a wrinkle in it, and trotted next to the radiantly smiling Princess. He made an effort at that too, but he couldn’t help but to think that he was mostly just showing his teeth to everypony. The clapping grew more fervent for a moment and then slowly died down as Armor raised his hoof. He looked at Cadance, then at Twilight, and even shortly at Fluttershy. They were all smiling. Everypony in the room was, which was slightly disturbing if you thought about it too much. He opened his mouth.

From behind the curtain where he had been waiting, a clerk trotted quickly past him, stealing his train of thought in the process. The old stallion went straight to Celestia, who had to bend her neck to hear him whispering a few words to her. Only, it wasn’t a just a few words, but quite a many, spoken in an urgent tone. When he had finished, the whole room was watching them, and most were not sure if they should be smiling anymore, for Celestia sure wasn’t. She sent the clerk away, looked at the room at large, and said:

“A news has arrived that require my immediate attention. My apologies, everypony, but I must stop the ceremony for now.”

Her voice was calm enough, Armor could tell, and somepony else might have missed the fact that it was the type of calm that was forced over something else. But Armor could sense the subtle hints even without seeing Twilight’s face, which had worry written all over it. However, his resignation was just a five minute speech away, and surely pretty much anything except a Changeling invasion or a fire could wait that long?

“Please, Princess, we can very well finish here without your presence," said Armor hurriedly before Celestia could walk away.

She looked at him, unsmiling. “Without me, yes. Without you, no. I need you to come with me, at once.” Without waiting a response, she looked at Twilight and Fluttershy in the front row. For the briefest moment, hesitation made a last stand amidst the deep purple eyes. “You too: follow me.”

“But Princess‒” began Armor, but she trotted past him without another word. Twilight and Fluttershy followed right after her, not even glancing at him. He looked helplessly at Cadance who had also stood up. She looked as puzzled as he felt, but ended up walking after all the rest. He stood alone on the podium for a moment, the growing murmur of the audience adding some body to the stares he was drawing like a magnet.

“Uhh… You heard her,” he finally said. As an afterthought he added: “You’re all dismissed. Sorry.”
With that, he galloped after his wife.

They ended up gathering in one one the Castle’s living rooms, for the throne room would soon be crowded with the day’s visitors. It was just him, Cadance, Celestia, Twilight and Fluttershy. Well, the old clerk was there too, but he fitted in the background better than the furniture did, at least until Celestia asked him to repeat the message. Despite the clerk’s elegant voice, at the end of his speech Armor felt like he had been slapped sharply in the face.

“There has been a tragedy,” began the clerk. “Just a moment ago, a messenger arrived from one of the nearby villages. Apparently he was the last link in the chain that had started from a village called Owl Moor yesterday. They had flown all night, I heard.” He drew breath, for a senior clerk knows the importance of timing. “Yesterday, something attacked two mailponies in a place called Damp Town. Their fate is as of yet unknown, but the locals fear the worst.”

Armor used every ounce of mental control he had to glance discreetly at Twilight and Fluttershy, who were standing very close to each other. They looked normal enough, at least when you turned a blind eye to Fluttershy’s paling face.

“Something?” asked Twilight.

The clerk shook his head sadly. “Observations in that regard were very vague, I’m afraid. There were two pegasi with the mailponies, and all we know we learned from them. Apparently they barely made it back themselves, and naturally they were very shocked by the event. Nonetheless, they managed to alarm the officials in Owl Moor, who sent a messenger as soon as they could.”

“What exactly happened there?” continued Twilight. She was standing very stiffly, in Armor’s mind, and Fluttershy seemed like she had been swimming in starch.

The clerk painted them a picture of words, but the main colors of “beast”, “growl”, “fast” and “horrible” made the whole of it appear very abstract. The general tone was pretty clear, though.

“It’s the Witch,” said Twilight quietly.

Fluttershy fainted, to the general panic of everypony in the room. She woke up quickly enough, but they saw it best to relocate her on a couch, on a different room, with the clerk coming with her. She didn’t object.

“How can this be?” said Twilight when the pegasus was gone. “We defeated her! I’m sure of that, at least! How can–”

“Twilight,” said Celestia in a voice that dribbled tranquility. The unicorn quieted immediately, her head drooping in exhaustion. Celestia walked over to her, closing one of her magnificent wings over her shoulders.

The sight made Armor wish he was an alicorn, just so he could match the unbelievable depth of love that the gesture emanated. Alas, for him, only words were left.

“Whatever we’re dealing with here, you and Fluttershy won’t have to touch it with a long stick,” he said. “It’s time for the Guard to do its duty. For a change.”

That got a sobby laugh out of Twilight, who had closed her eyes while bathing in her mentor’s tender care. From the corner of his eye, Armor could see Cadance smiling faintly too. He expected her to say something, but Celestia intervened.

“Even though Twilight’s conclusion was my first thought, too, we should not base our actions solely on that before undeniable evidence can be found. It might be the Witch, it might be some beast they have cursed, it might be something else entirely. We will know soon enough.” Her eyes turned to Armor. “You already spoke from behalf of the Guard, but I must ask if you wish to lead it personally? Given the circumstances, the choice is completely yours.”

By his side, Armor could hear Cadance’s deafening silence ringing in his ears. With a tiny motion, he turned to look at her. She was smiling, but it was a smile that he knew could mean anything, and thus meant only one thing. My choice. My choice alone.

“I will accept the task,” he said, looking Celestia in the eyes. He didn’t see the smile quietly disappear from his wife’s lips.

Celestia nodded, and removed her wing as Twilight moved towards Armor, locking herself around his neck. While he wrapped a hoof around her, the idea of wings suddenly seemed stupid, unnecessary, and vain. He was her brother, she was his sister. The love they shared needed no wings to fly.

Twilight… For the love I bear towards you, I will get to the bottom of this. Even if it means eating my way through a whole gingerbread house.

***

That night, the moon was shy. The dark-grey clouds that still hung over the city were her fan, the light rain that had continued since morning the lace of her skirt. Her light was sparse, barely a match for the street lamps that littered the stony streets like frozen glowworms. Many believed that the moon had been acting more moody ever since her mistress returned from her exile, and some of them could swear that the silvery orb was now watching them in the dark of the night. But wouldn’t the same have been true of the sun? “Well, yes,” they would say, “but it’s different.” Of course, nopony but poets could put that difference in words, and even they had to sink up to their shoulders into the well of inspiration.

Luna herself never minded any of this. And why should I? Mystique is the name of the night, its essence, its lure. At least for those who prefer daylight. She smiled enigmatically, even when there was none in the balcony to witness that. It felt good to smile. Right now, she could do with some positivity. The news her sister had brought at twilight had not exactly been the wake-up she had expected. Another beast in the Shallows? Perhaps the father of the puppies that now lived in the Castle’s kennels? But how come Fluttershy hadn’t foreseen that? Had she lost her gift? It was impossible to tell at this point, as they had both concluded in the short talk they had had.

I wonder if I should’ve told her about the book right then. She lowered her gaze from the city onto the large tome that floated before her, opened from halfway. The few raindrops that hit it either sank immediately into the thick paper or simply slid away to the balcony floor. In either case, they failed to affect the book in any way. That had been one of the first issues that Luna had raised an eyebrow at. Eventually she simply got bored of being amazed. The book was like nothing she knew could exist, in several ways even. Most importantly, it appeared to have a will of its own, or at least a partial will, it was hard to say without years of study. Secondly, it wasn’t a very nice will, or a soul, or a personality or whatever. To be frank, it was malicious, in Luna’s mind. Kind of reminds me of myself. On a bad day, that is.

She turned a page, revealing another one of those elaborate and ever so gruesome pictures. This one resembled a dentist session from Tartarus, although even they probably didn’t have drills that big. Without blinking, Luna read the runic writing below. “Interrogation of a Witch, late stage. Most effective. Highly recommended. Find them. Find them now.” The last part had appeared while she was reading. The same thing had happened a couple of dozen times now. Not only maleficent, but stubborn, too. Also quite boring. But dangerous. So very, very dangerous. She closed the book with a thud. Even the Princess of Night had a stomach, and she certainly had a taste. Her only hope was that Twilight had, too.

I should’ve watched her more closely, back in the Shallows. If she had held this book any longer… Luna shuddered. That wasn’t a thought she liked keeping inside her for long. The book was trying to lure even her, and honestly it wasn’t completely awful at it. Twilight’s mind was built to listen books. A book that would listen to her, and act based on what it heard, could do horrible things. Has already done, if I’m any judge. There’s a cave in the Shallows that has walls to prove it; walls painted red. She put the book back into Twilight’s saddleback, and closed it.

She gazed upon the shy moon and smiled again. The night was peaceful, despite the rain, or perhaps because of it. But somewhere, miles and miles away, something was lurking, stalking, watching. Killing. It needed to be stopped. For that end, petty curiosity weighted nothing. I’ll show the tome to Celestia at dawn. She might destroy it on the spot, or lock it in the deepest dungeon of the Castle, and that would be a shame. It is a very intriguing piece of work. But it might offer some clues about what is happening in the Shallows. Who knows? Maybe there are some Witches there after all, a covenant even. This Hollow Bark fellow will surely come useful then.

Perhaps Celestia knows something about him already. At least he keeps on asking after her all the time.

Comments

[Mad Maudlin]

So, if I understand.

Celestia has this entire plan going on. Possibly, it drove her sister to become Nightmare Moon. She's using Damp Town for training and/or testing, because of a convenient string of deaths. Possibly as a tool for brain washing Twilight into helping her with her device that, I assume, allows one or many to outlast the universe. This plan apparently came into existence because Celestia is insane, wants companions as enduring as herself and fears her own inevitable demise. She considers the idea of a Witch to be ludicrous.(probably)

Luna has decided that Celestia is full of shit, hid the book from her and then decided to give the evil mind warping book back to Twilight. She's secretly screwing with The Plan.

Damp Town has a problem with a Witch, Witches, or a second animal has figured out that ponies are a prey species. It's unlikely that Celestia is behind whatever is doing this and is just using it to her advantage. Presumably, she'll be in for a surprise when Hydia pops up and kicks her so hard her cutie mark falls off.

That about the sum of it so far?

[stanku]

4674579 That is a most excellent summary, I'd say, albeit some points I had thougth otherwise. Luna was actually considering giving the book to Celestia, not to Twilight, although she certainly does have her doubts about the Device. Also, it's arbitrary whether big C is insane or just lonely, or just terrified of being alone.

Hydia? Haha! Right, I didn't even remember that the older gens had witches. How about that.

[Mad Maudlin]

4676606

Hydia was an excellent villain. It's my firm conviction that the Changelings are a byproduct of what the Smooze did to the Flutterponies.

[stanku]

4677722 I can smell a fic right there.

[Alondro]

4522958 Harmony may be balance, but who decides where the balance lies?

There's the little niggling detail so very very few ever bother to consider.

They also never take into account that the villains using balance as an excuse always plan to go 100% evil, thus destroying the 'balance' they claim as justification.

Frankly, I prefer the logical mode of thought: The universe doesn't really give a crap about good v evil. It just wants to make sure you don't try to reverse entropy.