A Shadow Over Ponyville

by Mr Darcy

Chapter Three

A Shadow Over Ponyville

Chapter Three

This part of my narrative may seem strange to you, dear Spike. As far as you were aware, I held to my promise to return from Canterlot swiftly. According to you, I returned the very next morning, and claimed I had only been paying a personal visit to the Princess. That excuse was enough for you and my friends, and everything returned to normal. I made no mention of ancient books and dark magic, and I did not trouble myself with the doings of Lyra Hoofstep and Heartstrings. I tell you now that it was all a lie. Listen closely, and you shall see what I mean.

I arrived in Canterlot in the afternoon, having caught a carriage once I was safely out of Ponyville. I could not shake the feeling I was being watched. I was not unknown in Canterlot, having lived there most my life, even if my time was spent more with books than other ponies. Thus, despite my efforts to remain innocuous, I was surely spotted by some who recognized me, not all of whom were friendly as I later discovered. I headed straight for the Royal Canterlot Library after stopping for a quick lunch, and was admitted by the guard, who greeted me warmly, as I was more well known here then anywhere else in Canterlot. It did not take me long to find the book I sought, “A History of Magic and it's Magistrates”. Taking my find to a table, I flipped it open and began skimming pages, taking notes wherever it mentioned a book of magic, and where the copies could be found. As the list grew, so did my unease. Some of the tomes mentioned were of a most sinister quality, and even one so versed in magic as myself shuddered at the thought of reading them. I knew that if Heartstrings was looking for any of these books, her purposes could not be wholesome. Many were no longer in existence, all copies mentioned in “A History...” having been destroyed or lost, and my search was narrowed down to the handful that could still be found, although even these were exceedingly rare. Fortunately, if there was one place they could be found, it would be the Royal Canterlot Library. Armed with my notes and the descriptions provided by “A History...”, I delved deeper into the shelves of books, and to my luck I located many of the books on my list. In the end I found five of them.

Two of the books were short works, treatises on such superstitious nonsense as the use of circle patterns to enhance one's magical ability. Both of these I quickly set aside, convinced they did not contain the answers I looked for. Two more were entirely unrelated to magic as we thought of it, instead dealing with such things as anatomy, and the power of the physical form. The last was similar to the first two, in that it contained numerous studies on the workings of magic and the occult, but it differed from the others in format, being the diary of the noted magician Ethersong. Ethersong was not notable for any significant contributions to magic, rather being famous for two things; his persistence in claiming there were other realms just outside the reach of normal perceptions, and the curious manner of his death, involving the burning of his Canterlot laboratory in the midst of one of his experiments. I admit the tale of Ethersong intrigued me, and even if I had not been looking for answers to the Lyra mystery, I would have read that diary for my own sake. It began innocently enough, though Ethersong's ramblings on the various orders of existence were disturbing. Mention was made of his acquisition of a townhouse in Canterlot from a family member, which he planned to turn into a permanent lab. Further entries in the diary detail his moving into the new lab, and his introduction to the underground mystic movement of Canterlot, ponies who shared Ethersong's interest in the occult.

While before I was merely concerned, this marks the point where I became truly terrified of the possibilities that lay before me. The cause of my sudden fright, which nearly drove me to faint, was a certain pony who is mentioned in Ethersong's diary. Ethersong called her 'average-looking, most nondescript', and more importantly, he describes in great detail the pony's cutie mark, calling it in summary 'a silvery, intricate web, a most beautiful design'. Only once before had I seen something like the mark described in Ethersong's diary, and that was on the flank of Lyra Hoofstep! Though she was called by a different name in the diary, I knew it was her. How could it be, that Lyra Hoofstep is alive and well in Ponyville right now, while being mentioned in the diary of Ethersong, written generations before our time? Furthermore, how had nopony noticed this connection before? Could I truly be the first to discover this damning evidence? I reeled at the implications, and in my panicked state I considered abandoning my quest and putting aside that diary, never to look back. Now that I do reflect upon my path, I wish I had turned away right then. I could have lived peacefully, not knowing any more of Lyra Hoofstep and her insidious machinations. That road is one not traveled, as I managed to overcome my initial shock and, in the interest of pursuing this mystery to it's core, I continued reading the diary. Ethersong grew closer to Hoofstep, and from the way he spoke of her I would guess that he was becoming quite enamored of her. This was proven when, in one entry, he talks of putting aside a portion of his bits normally reserved for research, and saving it instead to buy Hoofstep an engagement ring. This entry was made only months before his untimely death, and I knew he would never get that chance.

Weeks before his death, a particularly excited entry speaks of a successful experiment, wherein, with the aid of Hoofstep, Ethersong utilized a specially crafted device to produce sounds which he thought could manipulate the very fabric of reality. This was proven when he struck certain notes, causing a test-mouse to promptly keel over, dead before it hit the ground. When it was examined, no cause of death could be found. It had simply expired, as though of natural, or in this case unnatural, causes. Hoofstep and Ethersong were ecstatic about their discovery. They performed repeat tests in the following days, trying to discover the limits of this new power. Once more I was terrified. The results of their experiments suggested a power unlike anything seen before. Is this what I was up against? It should speak to the gravity of the situation that I, one of the Elements of Harmony and the defeater of both Nightmare Moon and Discord, found myself so frightened by a few words in a diary. Further entries indicated Ethersong's desire to share this power with the world, and how Hoofstep seemed reluctant to agree. A rift grew between them over this matter, and the penultimate entry shows that Ethersong, still pining for Hoofstep, had invited her to his lab for a quiet dinner, in the hopes that they could sort it out. The date was the same as that of his death, in the fire which was presumably started by one of his many experiments. I surmised that it was not so much an accident as sabotage, the work of Hoofstep ridding herself of a rival and ensuring only she would know the secrets of the power they had found. This was proven by the final entry. I will repeat it here in full, word for word, as it's importance cannot be overstated:

What a foal I've been. Love blinded me. Love of progress, and of her. She has broken my legs and cast me into my cellar, and even now I smell the smoke. She intends that I burn here, along with all my work, leaving her in full possession of the knowledge we acquired together. Together...even now I wish we could have been. Lovestruck I may have been, but reckless, never. I took precautions. Many knew that she intended to meet me here this night, and our turbulent relations in the recent past provide enough motive that the blame for my death will surely fall on her. What's more, I took the time to hide away my own notes on our studies in my old apartment on Aspen Lane, beneath the floorboard directly before the window. My love may have constructed the instrument we used to produce the reality-bending frequencies, but it was I who discovered the necessary notes, the proper tunes and shifts to reach a desired effect. She only ever knew the few tricks I had taught her, and of course I did not teach her everything I had learned! I will shelter this diary with my own body to preserve it from the fire. Whoever finds this, please unearth my discoveries. I hope the notes I have left are sufficient for someone of reasonable intelligence to rediscover the power I had hoped would revolutionize Equestria.

I knew now why Heartstrings had sought this book in my library. She and Hoofstep were searching for the lost notes of Ethersong, for what end I still could not fathom. For just a moment, I pitied Heartstrings, for being deceived by Hoofstep like Ethersong before her, but I could not let that stop me at this critical point. I slipped Ethersong's diary into my saddlebags and silently asked Celestia's forgiveness for my theft. I knew this diary could not fall into the wrong hands. What if Hoofstep did not need it to deduce the location of the notes, however? I determined to go to Ethersong's old residence and ensure his notes remained hidden. Perhaps I would take them, and find a more secure location to hide them away. The Royal Library housed news archives, and I searched there for the address of Ethersong's old apartment. I found it, along with the poor stallion's obituary. To my surprise, he was not the only pony listed as a death in the fire that consumed his lab. Hoofstep's pseudonym was also listed. Somehow, she had faked her death, thus neatly avoiding the blame for the fire. I theorized that she had gone into hiding then, only to resurface decades later as Lyra Hoofstep, in Ponyville. Apartment address in mind, I set off for Aspen Lane. My studies in the library had taken the whole day, and now the full moon illuminated the beautiful streets of Canterlot. Ethersong's apartment building was in the older part of town, and when I found it I was charmed by it's rustic design. Whoever owned the establishment had taken cares to maintain it's historical architecture, and I felt transported to an earlier age upon entering it. Luck was with me once more, for Ethersong's apartment was vacant, and a simple spell unlocked the door to allow me entry. I got to my knees before the window and felt around for the board Ethersong had mentioned. It took many minutes, as it was cleverly hidden, but at last I pried it loose.

There, in a small alcove, was a bundle of paper, held tightly by a strip of leather binding. Before I could reach for it, hoofsteps alerted me to the presence of another. I moaned inwardly. I had led them straight to it! I would not put it past Lyra Hoofstep to have planned the whole thing in advance. Turning on the oncoming pony, I prepared a spell in my mind, one to paralyze an opponent, but I never had the opportunity to cast it. There, in the doorway, was Lyra Heartstrings, a lyre floating before her. With her magic, she was plucking a tune, and as those notes reached my ears, I found myself losing control of my own spell. It fizzled out, and I slumped to the floor, sweet lullabies drifting through my head. Heartstrings seemed almost apologetic as she crossed the room to my limp body. I could only watch as she retrieved the notes, and then leaned before me to speak. She said that if it were up to her, I would be spared. But Hoofstep could not risk that, she said, and then she apologized for what would happen to me when I awoke. At last the music claimed me, and I drifted off, Lyra Heartstrings' warning echoing to the beat of the tune in my mind.