The master and the windigo

by stupidswampdragon

21 - Limitation

Lyra twisted her neck wildly, intent to free herself from the tight grip. She enjoyed the company, but there was such a thing as too much goodness.

The move worked; Bon's hooves slipped and she fell off, landing on her back with a muffled yelp. She wasn't hurt, only surprised - mostly at the strands of long cyan hair wrapped around her hooves.

"Ow," Lyra commented on the very same scene, rubbing the burning back of her neck. "Ow, ow, owww. Was this the surprise...?"

"Ahaha... haaa? Sorry?" Bon gave a cringe-filled chuckle, waving her legs to get the torn hairs off from them. "I hope it didn't hurt!"

"It only stings when I laugh," Lyra hissed and rolled her eyes. She wanted to say something even snarkier but cold rushed down her neck, alleviating the pain. That was surprising; she was really expecting even more of the pain. She threw a puzzled glimpse over her shoulder, only to see Snowy fiddling at her back.

D'oh! I have a portable fridge! Lyra bumped herself on the head. The soothing coolness made her very comfortable; she couldn't work herself up even at her own stupidity. Mmm... this will be so useful during summer...

"So, the surprise!" she returned to Bon and to the more important topic, her eyes glittering with curiosity. "Did you really get something for me?"

Bon's cringe was overtaken by astonishment. She was clearly not expecting Lyra to just ignore the torn mane like that. Then she gave in with a shrug and played along; who was she to declare what Lyra could and could not forgive in the blink of an eye? Especially when she was the one benefiting from that fickle nature, too.

"None of what you're thinking about right now!" she returned to looking mischievous and reached to pat her friend on the back - only to shy away when she remembered how she had torn from the cyan mane. Try as she might, she just couldn't get over it so fast. "You sure it doesn't hurt...?"

"How can you tell what I'm thinking about?" Lyra cocked her head to the side. The joke was on Bon: whatever she may have guessed, she was bound to be wrong. Lyra was sure she wasn't thinking about anything in those moments. Getting excited never gave her logical side any favours.

"I don't. But I'm sure you're not thinking of this," Bon winked and walked around Lyra, making her way back to the bed. She reached for a pillow and flipped it over, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper underneath.

Okay, I sure wasn't expecting to get a... Lyra eyed the scene with increasing interest. What's that? Is it a picture? Did she commission a picture?

Bon reached out and bit onto the present. The paper unfolded as she lifted it into the air, revealing what seemed like a newspaper - huge white background with lots of text and a few images, all strictly in black and white.

"Eh?"

Mumbling without realizing, Lyra left the realms of interest and entered the state of true bewilderment. Something just wasn't adding up with that image, but she couldn't figure out which part she should be the most distrustful about.

Wait, what? Seriously, what?! Was Bon chasing after a newspaper all this time?

Bon shuffled closer. She moved slowly, but with reason: she had to be careful that she didn't step onto the bottom end of the dangling newspaper. She only stopped once she was right in Lyra's face.

Lyra gave the earth pony and her quirky present a long, questioning look... then tilted her head wildly to the side. No matter how she looked, the letters at the top would always spell EQUESTRIA DAILY.

Okay? So it's a newspaper, all right. Am I supposed to be impressed? Or is Bon pulling a prank on me?

Bon must have sensed the confusion because she broke into a growl and leaned forward. The paper cracked faintly, smothering Lyra's face.

"Reef!" Bon commanded. She sounded a little garbled; her mouth full of crumbled - and increasingly soggy - paper. Being an earth pony had certain drawbacks during presentations.

"Equestria Daily, standard edition, thurs... day?" Lyra balked, trailing off as soon as she got to the date.

Huh. Wasn't today Wednesday?

"Master! Not that one - the one below!" Snowy pointed a hoof at the largest headline, almost directly below the title which Lyra had read aloud.

Strange disappearances in the Northern Tundra explained?
Nobles and units of the Guard are suspect!

"Don't tell me..." Lyra felt her jaw drop. She tore the paper from Bon's mouth and dug her face into the article. "Oi! Bon! Did you put our story in the headlines?!"

---

"Wouldn't want to be Flash Freeze right now... tehehee!" Bon cackled mischievously as she jumped onto the bed. The springs did their job just fine; she bounced back into the air. Gravity was a harsh mistress though, and she crashed onto the mattress after a few, increasingly shallow bounces. "Let's see how popular his stupid resort will now be, ha!"

Lyra cared nothing for the abuse her bed was going through. Her gaze was still glued to the front page, eyes darting back and forth. She was putting all her concentration into reading; she even muttered absent-mindedly, echoing some words at random.

"Is this for real?" she asked once she had reached the last dot. She immediately cast the newspaper aside; there couldn't have been anything in there that could capture her interest that much.

The paper barely settled onto the floor and Snowy was already all over it. She stomped onto a corner, pinning it to the floor, acting as if she had weight or as if the paper could have ran away. Then she leaned close and studied the soup of letters with utter focus.

"Does it look like a fake?" Bon retorted to Lyra with a question of her own.

Lyra had to pause and think about that one. She had no idea how she could tell a fake newspaper from a real one, to be honest; it's not like a few pages of paper were so expensive to print. However, she had the feeling that Bon wasn't going to such lengths just to pull her leg.

"Yeah, it looks like the real deal," she chuckled dryly and paced to the side of her bed. "Apart from being dated for tomorrow, if you catch my drift."

Bon rolled onto her back and snickered, just loudly enough to give an impression of how proud she felt.

"Lyra... do you really think newspapers are printed right at the stand?"

"Of course not. What does-" Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows at the nonsense suggestion. Then the point dawned on her. Slowly and hazily. "...you got an early print, didn't you?"

"I've got friends at Ink&Spot," Bon pointed out in a bored tone. It really wasn't a shocking reveal: with all the freelance jobs she had taken, she had acquaintances at half the companies in a fifty kilometre radius. "It doesn't take much for them to... ehehe, misplace a copy. Especially if I promise I won't let it show up before they start selling them tomorrow."

Lyra acknowledged the fact with a curt nod. That sounded very plausible indeed... but did little to explain the content of the newspaper, however. Then she thought about all the times Bon had been absent from home. She had assumed that her friend had gotten a surprise job - the life of a freelancer was always unpredictable - but the article she had just read gave her a wildly different idea.

"So that's where you've been disappearing to," Lyra squeezed a hoof against her forehead. It was the best she could do, for she couldn't exactly kick Bon out of her bed just so she could hide her stupid face under the blanket. "You've been telling the story to the press."

And I've never even suspected, she cringed, pressing the hoof so firmly that her head began moving backwards. She could have sworn that head was empty, too; she felt all kinds of stupid.

"For all the flak they get, you'd be surprised how careful journalists are," Bon groaned and dropped her legs, spreading out on the bed like an X shaped pancake. "Though I think it'd have been more shocking if they simply let my story air without confirming anything. I mean, I was talking smack of a viscount!"

"I bet! I'm surprised they let this get into print," Lyra chuckled. She stopped punishing herself and removed her hoof. The next problem presented itself immediately afterwards: she had the imprint of a horseshoe on her forehead... which also itched.

"Well, they did tell me to turn to the Guard at first," Bon frowned, then interrupted with a huge yawn. "Only when the officers turned me away did the Daily take interest in the deal."

"It ain't a real story until some authority tries to sweep it under the rug, huh?" Lyra rolled her eyes, rubbing her forehead carefully. "So the Guards were really cohorts with that viscount, huh?"

She didn't give any signs of it, but that felt really vindicating. She had always known that nopony could attempt murders so blatantly. Not without the authorities turning a blind eye. Of course, that official connection may have made her story a few grades more sinister in turn...

"Yeah. I tried to do it by the book at first - you know, reporting the case and asking them officers to look into the dealings of the Dancing Light Lodge," Bon stuck her tongue out with a heavy grimace. "Fat lot of good that did me."

"They shook you off," Lyra sighed sombrely. "I ain't even surprised, for some reason."

"Ha! It seems the world hasn't changed that much after all," Snowy spoke up, all without bothering to take her eyes off the newspaper.

Lyra let that comment slide. It was either that or getting into an argument that could turn her world-view out of alignment. Hearing Bon recount how the Guard had sided with a highly decorated thug was bad enough already; she really didn't need a ghost of outdated moral sensibilities to further hammer the lesson home.

"Yeah, they wouldn't even lift an ear. They could have at least pretended to give a hoot!" Bon cackled, packing as much sarcasm as her tired throat allowed. "But nooo. They invented the most outlandish reasons just get rid of me! They told me some terrorist threatened the upcoming royal wedding, so they had to send every officer and troop to Canterlot. Pffft."

Lyra squeezed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She certainly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but that excuse was too much even for her own stupid self.

"Seriously, just how stupid do they take us be?" Bon shook her head with a groan, kneading the blanket underneath her. "You think anypony would dare and mount an attack on the single best fortification of Equestria? With both the Princesses being there? And the Captain of the Guard. And the Elements of Harmony... and, uh, and whoever else I'm forgetting about. There's no way anypony would be stupid enough to face all of that and think they've got a fighting chance!"

Lyra rubbed her forehead, but not because of the itching any more. She must have pressed it way too strongly earlier, for now the skin burned and tingled.

"Yeah. It'd be like willingly jumping onto a dragon's claws - just because there's no way he could be expecting that," she commented absent-mindedly. Massaging her aching head took priority over a wedding she didn't care about, even in the context of it being a convenient excuse.

"Word! Besides - could they even fit all that military into Canterlot? You'd have troops at every corner... huh, soldiers everywhere!" Bon clapped her hooves together. She then rolled onto her side and gave her friend a sly grin. "Actually, that's not as stupid as it sounds! It would be Shining's grand chance to show off, right? I mean, being a captain is nice and all... but it isn't quite rolling off the tongue like prince would, you get what I'm saying?"

Lyra groaned loudly and flung herself backwards. Only her upper half landed on the bed though, so she only stayed there for moments; she slid down onto the floor as gravity proved superior to her yet again.

"Having fun there?" Bon wriggled to the edge of the bed and peeked down.

Lyra gave a frown for an answer. The landing had ruffled her more delicate features... but she was a lot better once she shoved her mane out of her eyes.

"Hmm! Don't think anything was missing from that article. It was really quite comprehensive," Snowy broke loose from the newspaper. She walked towards her master, but her movement was different from the usual; she was slow, and very obviously distracted.

"You don't sound very satisfied," Lyra noted with a dry tone. The windigo had been eccentric from the get-go, but even she should have celebrated their long overdue revenge on that rotten noble.

"Well... on one hoof, I cannot level any blame at Master for seeking justice," Snowy frowned and glanced back at the newspaper. "But I do hope Master understands that Master has just pulled on the hair of a very dangerous foe."

"I pulled on his hair? Snowy, that bastard made the first move! He tried to murder me, did you forget about that?"Lyra blew up with anger, pointing her hoof accusingly at the troublesome windigo. "So it's not like I'd have much to lose! And since I've nothing to lose, should I feel bad that I've got my retribution? Heck no!"

"Lyraaa," Bon moaned loudly, squeezing her head against the blanket. "You're talking to your ghost agaaain! And it's not making much sense to me! At least narrate what she says!"

"Oh- oh! Sorry about that, haha! It was nothing important anyway," Lyra spun around and gave her friend a nervous, though seemingly light-hearted cackle. "She's just fretting over what the viscount may do to us."

"Haha, really? Wouldn't have thought that your ghost would turn out more responsible than you!" Bon giggled in return. Then she noted the change in Lyra's expression; the musician murmured something under her nose and covered her face under her legs.

"Lyra, it's not fretting if it's a realistic threat."

"Realistic what now?" Lyra jumped alarmed, her lips curling into a thoroughly anxious grin. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You told me he had his goons after you, didn't you?" Bon lifted a leg from her head, using the limb to point accusingly at her friend. "After you fell into that hole, remember?"

"Wishing I could forget the scene ever since," Lyra snickered, images of her nightmares flashing in front of her eyes. "What's that have to do with us, though? We're quite far from that stupid chateau of his, aren't we?"

Bon didn't answer; she dropped her leg to the bed, seemingly intent to let Lyra figure that one out on her own.

"Just what prevents those evildoers from boarding a train, like Master had?" Snowy pointed out in a resignated tone. "They could receive their orders and arrive here a day later."

"Oh-" Lyra gawked. She didn't add anything else; she simply left her mouth hanging. The Northern Tundra had always looked so far away on the map! She had completely forgotten how small the world actually was.

Well... oh crap?

"With that being said, I don't think he would go after you now. It would make huge news if you just disappeared... the Daily would milk that chance as hard as they could," Bon smiled with glassy eyes. She took a pause to stretch her legs, an elongated yawn completing her showcase of how sleepy she was. "I mean... okay, I've asked the colts at the Daily to omit our names for now, but they pretty much know the full story. They're going to keep an eye out for you. It's their chance to make their hot story even hotter, after all!"

"Clever," Snowy whistled in admiration. "No, not just clever. Miss Bon has been a few steps ahead of everypony all along!"

She sure has, Lyra smirked at the level of preparedness. She had a safety net woven underneath her - and she hadn't even realized. Heck, she hadn't even realized how much danger she had been in!

Whoa, wait a sec. If I was in such danger, then-

"What about you?" she turned to Bon. The short-lived enthusiasm was gone from her face, replaced by a darker shade of worry.

"Me?" Bon popped her head up, the question visibly taking her by surprise. She remained like that for a short while, but collected herself fast; she lay back onto the bed, a reassuring smile growing below her nose. "Oh, don't you worry about me. The viscount never even threatened me, and I doubt he would start righting that mistake now. You know, horses and locked barns."

Lyra could have gone with that answer. Could have, had she not gotten suspicious of Bon's happy-go-lucky attitude already.

"You weren't part of the picture before," she wrinkled her eyebrows, turning her vague fears into words. "You got the story published, Bon. You're an active part of this now!"

"Ah-ha! Well, you've got it all wrong!" Bon snickered and dragged her head into a more comfortable position. "I've been a part of this ever since you got involved. What, did you really think I'd just idly watch you wade through all this? C'me on, you airhead... aren't we friends or something?"

---

"Night," Bon grumbled under her nose and stumbled into the dark corridor, towards her own room.

Lyra observed the highly undignified departure in silence. It was something she would have normally made fun of, but tonight wasn't the time for such jokes. She shut an eye and squinted at the door; her horn flared up with an amber aura and the door obediently followed her wish, closing with a creak and a faint click. Guaranteed to be alone at last, Lyra allowed herself to indulge in the sinful pleasures of the body.

She broke into a loud, gurgling yawn, her jaws almost popping off their joints.

So freaking tired, she rubbed her burning, bloodshot eyes. It's already past midnight, isn't it?

Drowsy and drained, she relaxed and let gravity drag her down, straight into the middle of her bed. She didn't bother to get the blanket out of the way; the room was warm enough for her to not need the extra warmth. The bed was also softer this way... even if marginally.

She closed her eyes and breathed in. She felt heavy, extremely heavy; so heavy that she started to sink into the bed-

"Was Master and her friend always like this?"

Grumbling something about Tartarus, Lyra forced her consciousness to make a brief return.

"For a long while now..." she mumbled, her voice rasp and weak. She may have postponed her sleep, but there was no escape any more; it was only a matter of time before her endurance would run out. "Years..."

"Why?"

"Heck if I know," Lyra groaned and dragged herself forward. A brief rush of cold greeted her, and her head cleared up momentarily - right until her body warmed up that bit of textile as well. "Always been like this. Sometimes I think this is how it was meant to be..."

"Meant to be," the windigo echoed with a distant tone. "Like how I was meant to be this, I wonder?"

"That one's not set in stone," Lyra murmured into the blanket, too tired to even lift her head. Even thinking felt taxing; her head refused any activity, period. She wanted her sleep, and by Celestia's oversaturated mane, she would get it. "Night, Snowy..."

"Not set in stone... I wonder about that," the windigo pondered, somewhere in the distance. "I've watched the world turn on its head, Master. Yet, at the same time, we servants have remained the same. Surely have, I mean. There may be variables... but we seem to be constants."

Are you still yapping?! Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She thought about pulling a pillow over her head, but she didn't feel like moving even that much.

"With that being said, I earnestly hope that Master and Miss Bon are also one of those unchanging constants."

It was a heartfelt wish, but Lyra didn't catch much of it. To her ears, the windigo's voice came from farther and farther away, fading until it was barely more than an easily ignored buzz. Dreamland had gotten a hold of her, and was dragging her away from reality without mercy.

She didn't even wake up when blue light flooded the room. A faint boom rocked the window shortly afterwards - followed by another one, then another.

"Fireworks? Looks like a show, but- heeeyyy, hold on for a minute!" Snowy balked in surprise. She leaped to the window and pressed her face against the glass, the blue detonations reflected in her crimson eyes. "It's got to be them, hasn't it? They mentioned they would be doing a performance... but is that the low profile Origin and Miss Trixie were saying to keep...?"

---

Lyra dragged herself to the battered remains of a large tree. The trunk which laid in her way had been torn into two long ago, overpowered by the weight of the ice that had frozen to its branches. It wasn't a huge roadblock, maybe ten or twenty hooves in diameter.

Yet, at that moment, getting across that log felt like scaling a mountain range.

She placed a hoof to the topside and tried to push, to drag herself across... but the icy trunk didn't cooperate with her. Her hoof slipped and she stumbled forward; she only had enough time to clench her teeth, nothing more. Her head landed in the snow, the white stuff burying her up to her eyes. The rest of her didn't fare that well - her stomach landed right on the frozen trunk. Her ribs crackled and the air rushed out of her lung with a loud wheeze. Green dots danced in front of her, and she was sure she would pass out on the spot.

No-nono! Don't, she tried to keep herself up and awake. You'll never wake up if you fall asleep. Don't stop, whatever happens! C'me on girl, keep moving!

Easier deliberated than done, however. Especially when her aching sides only allowed her to take air in small sips.

Ugh... can't breathe. Need to stop this log from pushing my tummy.

She raised her left hoof and brought it ahead of her. Or would have, rather. She didn't have the strength to lift the limb out from the snow, and wound up piling the stuff at her face. The next phase went better - she pushed on the leg hard, using it to drag herself off the log.

She succeeded on the third attempt, and her entire body slid into the snow. It was a change she could earnestly welcome. She had stopped feeling cold for a long while at that point; so the only difference between the snow and the icy log was that one was soft and the other wasn't.

Feels comfortable... lying here...

Lying stretched and limp in the snow, Lyra was pretty sure she couldn't make another step. Moving only her eyes, she took a peek at the log which had caused her so much pain. It didn't look so evil, now that she didn't have to climb over it. It looked quite pretty, in fact. Thick ice covered the jagged edges, giving the downed trunk a rounded shape. In fact, the crystal-clear ice looked as if somepony had put the log into some sort of a glass tube... a glass tube with generous amounts of snow sprinkled over it.

And a little blood, too.

Lyra flinched at that. She had forgotten, but it was still leaking from her. The gash in her right shoulder wasn't giving her any respite. She wasn't sure how much a pony could bleed, but she had an inkling she was nearing that limit.

I should patch myself up...

Only she didn't have anything to work with. There was nothing she could use; nothing but snow and frozen trees surrounded her. She only had a useless amulet dangling from her neck.

Fat lot of good that did to her.

Dammit...!

It didn't matter, either way. She was too drained to move, to think straight; she couldn't have done anything, not even if a magical first aid box had appeared in front of her. She kept battling her tiredness for a while, but then fell asleep anyway. She could see her view rising, leaving her body; she was actually looking at her own self from a little up and behind.

From there she saw herself sinking into a deep sleep, half-buried in snow. Then a day passed and she still hadn't woken up; not even when it began snowing with a fury, covering her without a trace.

---

Driven by instinct, Lyra snapped her eyes open and breathed in deep. She was expecting something cold to enter her mouth - be that snow or chilly air - but nothing such happened. Quite the opposite, in fact. She felt hot, so hot that she was drenched in sweat.

The images only reached her a moment later. A dimly lit room greeted her, complete with some odd bits of furniture; all painted grey by the pale light that filtered in through the window.

Was it... was it just another dream?

Dazed and unsure about the world that surrounded her, Lyra pushed herself up. Her hooves dug into something soft; it wasn't snow though. Only a bed and an incredibly creased blanket were beneath her. Turning slowly, she looked at her back, but couldn't see any snow there either... nor did she feel soggy. Working her gaze upwards, she scanned herself for anything out of ordinary... until she reached her shoulder, and the grimy bandages covering it.

That was the final bit which made the dam burst. She broke into a smile and fell back, onto her bed. She was panting and giggling; upset but incredibly relieved.

"Another bad dream?"

Glancing to her left, Lyra saw the blue outline of a pony land next to her. A pair of crimson eyes stared at her expectantly, measuring her.

"Yeah," she grimaced and rotated her head around. Her neck crackled and popped; it didn't feel great, but it did wonders clearing the drowsiness out of her system.

"I'm sorry," Snowy sighed and turned away, facing the window.

"For what?" Lyra rubbed her swollen eyes with a yawn.

Snowy waited with her answer. The silence grew so long that Lyra had sufficient time to scamper out of her bed.

"For being here," the windigo muttered. "Had Master not been forced to draw me out, she wouldn't be suffering now."

"That's stupid," Lyra barked back. Those weren't the nicest words, but then again, her instincts had never cared much for politeness.

"Is it?" Snowy looked back at her master. She looked very dejected, even with her features being nothing more than mere outlines. "I watched Master squirm in her sleep... it didn't look like Master had a good time. Old Master... had we never met, old Master wouldn't have wound up in a tower either, mistaken for a fool who wouldn't shut up about a demon only he could see."

"Give that 'old master' a rest already! I bet he had issues even before you two met. He was a crazy old coot, and that's about it!" Lyra snorted angrily, only pausing her tirade to give another yawn. "As for me, I'd have simply died without your help! I'm pretty sure 'cause I just saw it happen... so right now, I'm feeling like, super-extra grateful that you were around."

That reminded her of something.

She reached to her side as she talked, her hoof caressing the bandage.

Pretty sure I don't need this. I mean, I could walk around or even bathe without this wound hurting one bit...

Acting on those thoughts, Lyra sprang into action; the bandage began glowing with an amber aura the next moment. The fabric couldn't resist the magical forces too long and ripped away, shedding from Lyra's shoulder in long, uneven stripes.

"Master, wait!" Snowy jumped at the sound. The sight had refilled her with energy - she didn't sound melancholic any longer. "The doctors said that Master had been seriously wounded! That bandage should be kept there until-"

Lyra had no ears for that complaint. She felt fine; but more importantly, she wanted to see for herself how her shoulder looked... especially after having seen herself bleed to death in a snowstorm.

She cleared the last strip of bandage and moved her head closer, the magic aura around her horn acting as her ad-hoc light. It wasn't as good as a regular light. The amber colour overpowered any other, making her sight effectively monochromatic; but Lyra was too curious to bother with looking around for matches and candles.

"Whoa," Snowy whispered in awe. "That's..."

"Ha!" Lyra clicked her tongue at the sight. "I knew I've been feeling well!"

There was no sign of any injury on her. The cyan coat was a little uneven, hinting at a scab underneath; but Lyra had to study herself really closely to pick that up. She lifted the right leg and moved it around; it felt stiff, but didn't strain or hurt whatsoever.

For all practical purposes, she was fully healed.

"Incredible," Snowy gawked at the sight.

"Yeah - it is," Lyra licked her lip. She couldn't get enough of that revelation; she started hopping around, paying just enough care to not wake Bon up.

---

"Really? Master had never recovered this fast before?"

"Nup," Lyra gave a minimal, almost flutter-like shake of her head, and blew some air out. The pages of the diary rattled in front of her, the topmost one almost managing to flip over; but she was quicker and held it down with a hoof. It may have not done much damage - the ink looked like it had already dried - but she wanted to be sure. She didn't feel like rewriting half a page worth of text.

"I mean, I only had a few cuts and bruises before," she explained as she moved the hoof around, tapping and rubbing the page gently. "But those always took weeks to heal. For this kind of a wound to disappear in just two weeks..."

No matter how she looked at it, that was something extraordinary... and there was only one change in her life that carried inexplicable effects.

"Why would I make Master heal faster, though?" Snowy grimaced and scratched the side of her head. "How would I even do that? It doesn't make sense!"

"Yeah, because erasing memories is totally not crazy!" Lyra rolled her eyes and slammed her diary shut. "As for the why - how should I even know that? Though if you ask me... maybe that Source of yours is trying to encourage the players to go wild. Wouldn't put it past the loon."

"Why didn't it work right after our meeting, though?" Snowy shook her head vigorously as she continued her steadfast refusal. "Master's wound was so deep, I had no choice but to freeze it... but despite that effort, Master was in a rather poor shape when she received care. Had I possessed proper healing qualities even back then, Master wouldn't have needed to receive blood."

Tucking the diary back under her bed, Lyra moved her hoof to her chin. She hadn't thought of that.

Even so, her shoulder had healed in record time. That couldn't have been anything other than Snowy. But why would the windigo's healing factor kick in one moment and not the other?

Unless...

"DUH! It's so simple!" Lyra boinked herself on the head. "The Source wants to see us changing the world! That bastard, stooping to such dirty tricks...!"

Snowy cocked her head to the side and stared silently, obviously not getting the connection her master had uncovered.

"See, your creator wants the players to use - or, heh, abuse - the servants as much as possible, right?" Lyra explained with a gleeful smile, her front legs folded in front of her. "If that's so, then we should be reckless, right? Ideally, I mean. So I'd bet that your super-healing only works when you're erasing memories! I mean... to make us reckless, the Source has packed this hidden perk into that ability of yours."

It was Snowy's turn to rub her chin and hum thoughtfully.

"That might explain everything," she ceded. "Shouldn't that mean that other servants may have the same ability, though?"

"Haven't thought of that. But now that you mention... I wouldn't be surprised if they did," Lyra glanced at the ceiling. "I wonder if the other players have realized this, though. I would have never known about it had I not gotten so injured - and I sure wasn't planning to do any of that."

She turned her eyes downwards, moving her gaze back to her right shoulder.

It still felt weird for that part of her to feel completely ordinary.

"Maybe I should tell Trixie about this," she hummed to herself. "Though she's kind of a magician, right? So I wouldn't be surprised if she had already discovered it."

"A fine idea," Snowy nodded. "Miss Trixie had been firing fireworks until very late, however - so I doubt she would be available for the better part of today. If meeting her is all that Master is planning, then I would humbly propose that Master return to sleep as well. Ponies need their sleep."

"You can forget about that!" Lyra burst into a yell. She followed it up by falling silent and glancing around repeatedly, checking if she had managed to wake Bon. The house remained silent however, so she could relax after a short minute or two.

"I can understand that Master is reluctant to face another nightmare... but Master needs to rest," Snowy pleaded. "Master needs to relax, or else Master won't be able to accomplish her plans."

Lyra breathed in deep. She was ready to tell the windigo to just mind her own business - but the ghost's words gave her an even better idea.

"Relax, you say!" Lyra grinned mischievously and rubbed her hooves together. "Indeed! Why should I sleep when I could relax?"

Judging by her befuddled stare, Snowy had absolutely no idea what her master was talking about.

---

"Whoa," Snowy gawked, fully under the spell of the instrument. "How delicate!"

Lyra simply smirked smugly in response, then returned to her task of sorting her drawer. She shuffled a stack of books to the back of the shelf, poked a box of candles out of her way... and broke into a triumphant cackle when a particular notebook came her way, tied closed with a black string. She grabbed onto that and yanked it into the open, closing the drawer afterwards.

"How does Master know which string to pull?" Snowy poked the lyre. The instrument didn't seem to mind; it remained lying on the bed, acting quite indifferent about the ghostly prodding. "There's so many of them!"

"Haha! Actually, this is a simpler version. It only has seven strings, see?" Lyra giggled as she walked back to the bed and placed the book onto the plain mattress. "The other one I use has ten, but I keep that in my locker room."

"Ah... I see," Snowy nodded absent-mindedly, suspiciously looking as if she were counting the strings. "Why is that? Is playing that one too complex? Not relaxing any more?"

"Tsk, tsk. Snowy, I practically live to play on these things! You could beat me over the head with them and I'd still enjoy it," Lyra gave the windigo a light-hearted chide. "I keep the seven-string lyre here because this is the one that fits into my drawer. The other one is like, big."

"Oh," Snowy recoiled. It was obvious that she found the answer surprising; she must have been expecting something less practical from an artist such as her master.

That kind of reaction had always entertained Lyra. For some reason, ponies had always expected artists to be a group of eccentrics; and she had really enjoyed proving that popular opinion wrong. It didn't take a pony to be an oddball to become a musician, and she was out there to prove it.

She undid the tie on the notebook, pulling the black string to the side. She then flipped the book open and grumbled disapprovingly. The pages were showing their age; they had turned yellow and had started to curl up. Lyra had no idea who came up with the quip of 'words fly away but writing remains'... but she was sure that that pony never had to take care of old books.

"Strange words there," Snowy popped up next to Lyra's head, staring at the first page of the notebook. "A mi... estudiante desesperada? What is that?"

"Proof that musicians can also have wry humour," Lyra rolled her eyes and flipped to the next page. "It's a note from my old teacher, in her native tongue. Translates to something like, 'to my hopeless student'... hardy har-har."

She paused for a moment and flicked back to the first page absent-mindedly. The note had been written by the same paw and with the same ink; yet, to Lyra, it looked a little different than the rest of the page. It stood out and caught her eye.

I wonder how you're doing nowadays, you crazy gryphon lady, you...

She raised her eyebrows and sighed, then turned two dozen pages at once.

"Whoa!" Snowy yelped and backed away. "What's THAT!"

Although snickering and fighting to keep herself from bursting into laughter, Lyra could understand the reaction. She had reacted quite the same way when she was first faced with the huge blob of squiggles. To the untrained eye, musical symbols were indistinguishable from arcane magical recipes.

"It's a study score," she explained and ran her eye along the topmost line. It was a simple practice song; it was also her favourite, the one she kept returning to all the time. She could replay it blindfolded for years already, but she also liked to try using the instructions from the notebook every now and then.

Playing like that reminded her of when she had managed to get that song right for the very first time... so many years ago.

She grabbed the lyre with her magic and pulled the instrument close to herself, then returned her eyes to the paper.

"So... Master is going to play music, all by those strange markings?" Snowy crept back into her view. "Astounding."

"Ever been told that you're easily amused?" Lyra chuckled at the ghost's - and in a way, at her own - expense. There was hardly anything astounding about replaying a track that was meant for third-year apprentices. She never let that bit drag her mood down, though. She ran her tongue down her lips, leaned onto the lyre and...

And nothing happened. Nothing apart from her blinking in confusion.

Try as she might, she couldn't recall what to do.

She understood the score - she could imagine the tones, she could hear them in her head - but she had no idea how to translate them onto the lyre.

What the...

She grabbed the lyre and rolled it around. It looked the same as usual, down to the last scratches on the wooden body. She had played on that instrument countless times before, so she knew it inside-out; she could have told the location of every chip by heart. Only this time she didn't have that feeling about it. The moves which came to her so naturally just weren't there.

Eyeing the instrument in bewilderment, Lyra pulled on a string; and to her greatest surprise, she failed to recognize the resulting sound.

It was like she had never heard it before.

Impossible!

She had played on that thing just a little more than two weeks ago, before they had left for that ill-fated vacation. Furrowing her forehead, Lyra cast her increasing worry aside and tried to let the ingrained moves guide her. It didn't work out too well; the lyre only made garbled screeching, forcing her to stop.

Okay, enough fooling around. What's going on here?

She dropped the lyre onto the bed and sat down herself. She was at a loss; that had never happened before. She had to calm down, needed a clear head to think with.

I don't get it, she gulped dryly. It's like I've forgotten how to play on this thing!

She chuckled wryly at the mere thought. What a preposterous idea! How could anypony just forget about something like-

Eyes going wide with terror, Lyra turned to Snowy. There was a simple answer at hoof - a simple answer that threatened to break her mind, right on the spot.

Oh sweet Celestia, please let this be just another nightmare!

Comments

[stupidswampdragon]

5597947

Not sure what you're thinking, but if I'm correct in what you're thinking then I think I've got crazier twists in mind. ;)

And yes, this servant "system" is very much inspired by the Fate series. I mean, it would be hard to deny. Also, Fate/Zero has left a huge impression on me... I shudder to think what Unlimited Budget Works will do to my mind.

With that being said, I tried to make these servants a little less... combat-oriented. It wouldn't fit the setting well and to be honest; and it's a pet peeve of mine that most servant-servant interactions in Fate devolve in a deathmatch. I had this feeling they were wasting potential with that.

[Sage Probo]

5624394 True, I can't imagine Trixie and Lyra using their servants to nuke each other out.

So, no Master BonBon here, and here I thought it was obvious...

Well played, good sir. Well played.

[stupidswampdragon]

5629825 Oh, I do have plans with Bon. Having her be a master would be a little too straightforward, though... besides, it's more fun to get "bystanders" caught up in the game than actual participants, right? ;)