Diary of the Dead

by AppleTank

19: The Birdwatcher

I stared in disbelief at my long lost friend’s rattling breaths, and fell to the snowy floor below. He barely looked like the image in my fuzzy memories. His once blue coat and sky blue mane was greyed, flat, and soaked with sweat. His horn seemed rough, uncleaned in days. And his body! I could see all the bones in his shoulder and chest. “...what happened to you?” I ran around to the front of the building, and skidded to a stop at its locked door.

I briefly glanced around at the streets around me. “Blast. No time for niceties.” I pushed my hoof against the wood, magic dancing over my coat. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, it started to warp and crack. Black veins crept across the wood grain. I lifted my hoof and punched forwards, snapping the rust-infected lock.

I skidded into the side of the well crafted dinner table. And a near bare kitchen. The icebox had nothing but a small slice of bread and a stale cookie. My heart started pounding in my ears as I ran to another room. Beds were left unmade. Closet open and empty of all but sheer, fancy dresses and suits.

Where did Even Balance’s family go?

Heavy hooves unwillingly pulled me to the room I saw just minutes before I was so eager to find. This door was unlocked, and I carefully pushed it open, only to be greeted by the sounds of water filled lungs valiantly trying to empty.

Even’s eyes flickered open part way as the door creaked to a stop. His foggy eyes stared somewhere over my shoulder, and smiled drunkenly. “Didn’t expect to see little Garand in my hallucinations,” he croaked.

“It’s ... it’s Cycle, now,” I reflexively answered.

Even blinked slowly. “Well, congratulations, Cycle. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be there. Won’t be able to see you one more time.”

“But, but, I’m here!” I stammered out, putting more hooves on the foot of his bed. “I survived! I’m ... I’m right here.”

“I ... I hope so,” Even wheezed out quietly, his eyes fluttering shut. “Maybe, I can see you again on the other side ...” His lungs struggled to take in one more breath, then collapsed with a rattling sound that sent knots through my gut.

I blinked. Even’s chest remained flat, unmoving. “... Even?” Even’s half-open lips seemed to pale before my eyes. “No. No no no no!”

I rushed over to the side of my increasingly colder friend. “Not again!” I shouted, whipping the covers off of him. I quickly bundled him up on the bed sheets, then found a few towels to tie him to my back. “Just stay with me! I ... I can’t lose another.”

The wood boards beneath my hooves cracked and withered as I rushed towards the window. A single punch shattered the glass, and I leapt through, not noticing the bed crash into the floor below as the floor completely rotted away.

I hit the ground at a scramble as I sought for grip, before slamming the edge of a hoof a crack in the cobblestone and launching forwards. Snow exploded into the sky in my wake as I accelerated out of Haycenda.

As I ran, frost extended its gleaming claws over my face, forming a glittering helm as I drained the air dry of kinetic motion with every breath. Chunks of ice resembling hail bounced away from my hooves.

Muffled by the sound of the howling winds, Even’s lungs rattled, blood sloshed, oxygen flowed, for just a bit longer.

---

Three Hours Later

Gladas was deep in thought as she prodded the muscles of a severed frog leg when Blackbird fluttered into her lab, lightly dusted with snow. Gladas paused, sitting back on the floor cushion and rubbing her eyes. “Friend, what brings you?” she asked, brushing puffs of snow off her friend’s wings.

Blackbird briefly dug his head into the warmth of her palm. “Cycle is back. With passenger.”

Gladas continued scratching Blackbird’s wings for a moment before sighing. “Right, I’ll ready the operations room. This better be worth it, Agatha.”

Cleaned tools were picked out of closed toolboxes, and the operating table re-cleaned. With a shaped gem clasped in her wing, she walked to Plan P’s entrance and opened the door to wait. She didn’t have to wait long. In moments, she could see a bouncing dot through the snowfall. My form quickly became more distinct, a large, boat-like V-shaped wake of snow behind me as I plowed through every obstacle in my way.

I skidded to a stop in front of Gladas, melted frost dripping out of my mouth. “Hey! I need your help.”

Gladas stared at the still form on my back. “... Cycle, I can’t save a corpse.”

“He’s not dead!” I said reflexively. Even gave one quiet, very wet wheeze. “Uh. Not yet, anyways.” I perked up. “And I’m magically keeping his blood oxygenated. Even is in a far better state than the mana inhaling overdose I was running on when I got here, so ... progress!”

Gladas groaned, and waved an arm into the air. “Fine! Whatever. Agatha really wants me to do this, so I’ll allow it.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank you--”

“But I’m not going to trust him,” Gladas cut in, poking me in the cheek. “Agatha disappeared one day only to come back hours later hauling you in, and this time she’s all but demanded us allow your search. I barely trust her on the best of days.” She spun around, waving me in. “But if he acts up, I will not look favorably on either of you,” she said, glaring at me over her shoulder.

I followed her, head held high. “I promise you, I won’t disappoint you. I can bring Even around, don’t worry.”

“I better not have to,” Gladas grumbled.

---

Even Balance’s return to consciousness was a surprise, because he was pretty sure he felt his heart seize before blacking out. The invisible grip on his neck slowly lifted, and he took in a surprised breath, his limbs tingling

His eyelids fluttered against his numb nerves, squinting against the light. Was he alive? It was said that Death was painless, and all he could feel was a cold weight somewhere in his chest cavity, and a very distinct lack of a heartbeat.

“Can you hear me? Open your eyes and look at my claws,” a voice said.

Evens forced himself to squint through the prickling sensation in his eyes as the world around him settled into some semblance of focus.

... There’s a bird waving at me? Even’s train of thought was derailed when a tan-coated colt poked his head over from the side.

“Even’s, its me, Cycle!” he said.

Even’s wheezed in surprise. “You’re here? Alive?”

Cycle shrugged. “Debatably alive.”

“.... Where am I?”

“In my operating room,” a new (familiar?) voice cut in.

Even’s brain screeched to a halt. “... Now I know that I am dead, for the mortal realm cannot hope to contain such a beauty,” he said, in a dreamy smile.

The white-feathered griffoness stared down at him for a moment, then turned a glare at Cycle. “I am not taking any responsibility for whatever brain damage you caused.”

“Hey hey, don’t worry, I’ll take care of him,” Cycle stammered, holding up his hooves.

“Rii--ght.” Gladas glanced down. “And he seems to be even more out of it now. Ugh. Let’s just get this over with. He’s your mess after this, Cycle.”

“Got it.”

“Also ... get Barnabee and prepare a new room,” Gladas said over her shoulder. “This work will be easier if there’s no extraneous energy sources.”

Gladas quietly weaved artificial conduits inside Even’s chest for a few moments after Cycle had left, then groaned, clutching her face.

“Something wrong, m’am?” Even asked unevenly.

“...No. None of that.” Gladas loomed over the unicorn, her face blocking the hanging lamp and casting her face into shadow, her golden irises piercing the darkness. “Shut up and listen. I was doubtful of Agatha picking up Cycle’s half-dead corpse from the forest. But, he has exceeded my expectations. He’s proven himself reliable and dedicated to the cause, and is probably will be one of the better magically gifted persons here. I would be deeply in his debt if he can help find a way to reverse my grandfather’s degradation.

“The only problem is that our mental states are tied closely to the state during the creation of our phylacteries.” Gladas leaned in closer, her beak poking Even in the snout. “And Cycle was one atomic bond from snapping completely. The memory of Sunny Pines is the only thing that’s keeping him stable on the mortal plane. You are part of that memory now. Stay alive, keep him sane, or you both die. Understand?”

REGRET

Evens winced. “... Yeah. I hear you.”

“Glad that’s sorted.” Gladas pulled back. “Now, since you’re still here, mind if you lift your rib-cage slightly?”

---

Evens leaned on me for support as they left the operating room. Gladas stayed behind to clean up the bloodied room.

“So, what is this place?” Evens asked as we limped out of the facility.

I smirked, and led him to the main entrance. Along the way, I motioned to the walls. “This is, heh, Plan P. The Boss was never really good at names, and if anyone ever catches the name of the place, it has the added benefit of making them wonder whether there are other bases like this. The same with our little team name, the Honeycomb Club. Completely non-sequitur, and our private secret.” I opened the door and gestured at a map. “The place we’re located in right now is Appleton. Its about a day’s walk away from Haycenda, quite a bit harder now with the weather the way it is.”

“Wow. So I spent a day technically dead?”

“Actually, three hours. I charred my tail from the amount of mana I was burning to keep up that speed.”

“Oh. That’s ... thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. You’re the last person I know from my old life. Everypony else is ... is....”

“What happened, Cycle?”

“I ... I wasn’t strong enough. Fast enough. Smart enough. They all died, while I still live. I am the last of Sunny Pines. They will not be lost, while I still breathe.”

I paused, staring at nothing. With a subtle jerk, I continued, “Now, come on, let me show you the rest of this town before we get back. There’s not much to see with all the snow, so it won’t be long.”

---

Indeed, there wasn’t much of Appleton to see. Appleton was, at its heart, a farming settlement, and much of that land was buried and frozen. Some of the original residents have left for better weather, but those who stubbornly stayed now worked in the underground farms. After a quick walk along what few streets that were visible and populated, I led Evens towards the underground farms the Lich of the Honeycomb had helped make.

They walked past Gladas’s building, Option P. It was, I explained, our public face to the town, where if somepony wanted to meet with one of them, or just purchase items, they could find them here instead of trekking into their actual base hidden in the nearby forest. There wasn’t much to it, just living quarters above a simple pharmacy/general store.

Plan P, however, was a lot bigger than what its humble appearance showed to visitors. It too, was two storied, though the upper floors were used more for overwatch and storage.

The ground floor had a small greeting room, and an operating room directly off to the side. The operating room also doubled as an armoury. There was an often unused kitchen that was expanded enough to double as a dining/living room. Most of the time, it was the residents of Appleton who used the kitchen, or to go past it into a fake pantry which hid a staircase to an underground farm. Those who didn’t trust the Honeycomb Club, and vice versa, had long left the town in hope of better food and shelter. Filtered tubes led up to the sky, either chimneys for air or for sunlight, disguised as dead trees.

The real meat of the facility, though, was hidden underground. A fake broom closet led to a spiral staircase into one of several complexes. The library was the furthest from the top. It held the Club’s most valuable treasure: knowledge. Only those who were full members of the Honeycomb Club knew of its existence. For now, most of the books in the library came from copies from the Griffon Kingdom’s libraries, recovered manuscripts from the sunken Enlightened bases, and what documents Agatha managed to memorize from Falcowolf’s old outpost.

There was a pony capital somewhere, but considering the number of ponies-of-questionable-friendliness to a group of undead that were most likely going to be there, the group’s relative inexperience, and lack of numbers, they didn’t dare infiltrate their libraries. The winter might give them an advantage, but the chance of disaster was still too great. Until they were stronger, survival was the number one priority.

Besides, they were immortal, and can afford to wait a little longer for safety.

After that, there were several labs that took up the majority of the underground: three levels of it. They were kept clean, but only a few carried enough equipment for every possible experiment. They still haven’t had time to go on supply runs, and considering the weather it was doubtful anyone would be manufacturing anything complex enough to go copy or steal from now.

That last level, the one directly below the ground floor was for living quarters: rooms for personal use. They were rarely used for actual sleep. Most of the time, the residents just meditated in the main building, and did maintenance on their internal magics. If one had some keepsakes or other personal equipment, however, this was where he or she would keep them.

---

The short tour complete, they returned to the facility to grab a bit of food.

“Hey ...” Cycle began. Evens looked up, a few stalks dangling from his mouth. “I’m sorry, when I saw you stop breathing, I panicked, and just grabbed you. Did I disrupt any prior plans ...?”

Evens looked down. “Actually ... my family has already moved on.”

“What!?” Cycle exclaimed, jerking in his seat.

“No, no, not like that,” Evens said, waving a hoof. “But I was dying, Cycle. I convinced the rest to leave me behind, there was no way I would survive long enough to get my lung infection checked out.” Evens made a gesture at his still sunken ribs.

Evens continued, “I lasted as long as I did out of spite, to be honest. So,” Evens gave a small smile. “Thanks.

“In any case, since I never expected to last this long, I have nothing planned. Might as well take this chance to make up for lost time, yeah?” Even said, leaning over to place a hoof on Cycle’s shoulder. “I hear you have some interesting experiments in the labs, might as well take a look there.”

Cycle brightened. “Of course. I’ll be happy to bring you up to speed.”

REGRET

---

Present Day

“Wait. Wait wait wait.” Twilight Sparkle flipped through her notepad. “Earlier, you said that the Mk 1 heavily affects your mental state based on the emotional state at the time of Phylactery creation.”

Cycle nodded. “Indeed.”

“Then ... then what was Gladas doing during the operation with Evens?”

“Obviously, she knew exactly what she was doing,” Cycle said placidly to Twilight’s shocked expression. “She carried the love of her grandfather for decades by then, and was not bothered by it. When I brought in Evens to the Club in such a state, she feared for my continual stability. So she made sure I was on Evens’s mind when completing the ritual for his Phylactery.”

“That! ... That’s ...!”

“All of us have our own obsessions. She wanted to be sure his was pointed towards the betterment of the Club. Despite her misgivings of Agatha, Gladas is probably the second most devoted to the idea of the Honeycomb Club itself, and will sink her claws into anything that may be ... important. Absolute control towards ones that benefit her, and surgical destruction to those that threaten it.”

Twilight’s ears drooped a little. “She ... doesn’t seem like someone nice to be with.”

“On the contrary, if she likes you, she’s probably the kindest one you’ll find in those depths. But her obsessions do rule her. It is a quirk simple enough to work around.” Cycle shrugged. “Be a friend. I believe it is something you’re quite good at.”

She chuckled. “I ... I hope so.”

“She believes so too. Its part of why I’m here.” Cycle gave her a tired smile, one Twilight cautiously returned..

“That reminds me ... you haven’t told me what everyone’s, uh, tic, was?” Twilight shrank back slightly. “If its something you want to keep private, its alright.”

“No no, if we’re telling you this much, might as well go all the way.” Cycle cleared his throat. “As you know, this,” he said, waving his hooves at the general area of the town, “was my own focus. Wally’s was supposed to be to further the goals of the Enlightened, but he couldn’t bury his desperation to make his mother proud. Something that may have been what saved him, what drove him today to give his all.

“Dimitri Hanaken was driven by the search for the truth of her friend’s fate. Gladas was driven to support her grandfather, and to temper Agatha’s vices. Barnabee to learn about the magic we live and breathe. Evens ... to keep me happy.”

Twilight looked at her notes, squinting. “... five, six ... Agatha never got a Phylactery, right?”

“Correct. Is something wrong?”

“I ... its probably nothing. Were there more?”

“Later on, but yes, these seven were the core group that were the most influential on the Club decisions in general. Shall we continue?”

Author's Note:

And here's Even "Evens" Balance.
Hint: He appeared in the first chapter.

Comments

[amiamera]

I'm going to be honest, for me I'm starting to feel a bit bored with this story at this point. The part of the prologue that drew me in involved the Celestia bits, not the necromantic bits. I also feel like the story involving how the necromantic group came to be was not what seemed to be the focus of this story and should have been relegated to a side story or until closer to the time it became relevant beyond interesting backstory.

I understand you may be going for something different from what I'm imagining but it feels like maybe you should have tried for focusing more on the big years when big events happened and left some of these smaller moments to our imaginations and just hinted at them with references in either dialogue or narrator references. TBH, I may just start skimming a few chapters and skipping until Celestia appears or something interesting actually catches my attention. Otherwise I may just stop reading and check back in every once in a long while to see where this story is.

As for the writing itself, I don't see any problems with it other than me losing interest, which may indicate a different problem.

[AppleTank]

7389239
Sorry, the Celestia bit comes later. Actually starting up soon in the next arc. I wanted to first set up Cycle's motivation for the things he does, and why all that cumulates in his beef with Celestia. I also have a mild obsession with detail, and wanted to introduce the important people who Cycle joins with. Once all that is over with, I can then focus on the interesting things they actually get involved with.

Though there are bits of adventure, this fic is technically going to be more Slice of Life heavy. I'd thought about whether I should tag it with adventure, but after thinking about, it's mostly just about a group of immortals just staying alive. They don't go on crusades, or take over land, go to war. That brings attention.

Long story short, Arc 1 ended up being a 42K introduction to everyone who is more or less going to stick around for 1.2K years, and a brief overview of their motivations for staying with the "Club". A character study, I guess. I wanted to see if I can handle multiple characters and keep them marginally distinct, and indulge in my worldbuilding habits.

Arc 2 is the (somewhat short) Sombra arc, where Celestia does something that really pisses Cycle off, which shortly goes into a grief spiral until he does something drastic as a final "fuck you" to "Destiny".

Considering this story's inspiration, "Sufficiently Advanced", you can kinda see a lot of parallels to structure. I pretty much decided to follow Dorkness's format because our goals were somewhat similar: introduce the characters, and show the audience about their capabilities, and why they're such a big deal. His thing was the technological Phylacteries that allowed 6 humans to point a giant middle finger at death, letting them become the only 300+ year old humans. My thing was lich, because while speculating for a story idea, I noticed how so many immortals like painting giant targets on themselves and destroying the entire point of being immortal.

He focuses a lot more on dialogue, in comparison, cus frankly, he's amazing at it.

Dorky's reason for front loading 150K or so on just introducing characters, and frankly, is barely MLP related besides a bunch of dudes with a serious obsession, is because he read some sci-fi stories and was sorely disappointed with how human tech was handled in much the same way as magic. He wanted to set up a world first, and have Character Doing X be something established, not pulled out of thin air.

I didn't want to go straight into the big bits because frankly, in 1.5 arcs, Cycle is going to become a bit (ok, ridiculously) overpowered, and I wanted to at least explain why.

I set up the story to entertain myself first, because I didn't expect a lot of people to read it. At the very least, I made myself happy. And yeah, I kinda made the Prologue the way it is because I wanted to make something eye-catching. Though I kinda end up teasing things that won't be revealed for another 2-3 centuries.

Cycle dies at the beginning. He disagrees. The rest of the story is the consequences of that decision, and fighting valiantly to not be noticed by Destiny.