Through the Nether

by StormDancer

PUGging

Twilight Sparkle went over their plan for what felt like the hundredth time. It had been a simple plan, a plan trimmed down to its integral parts to minimize the impact of x-factors. It should have worked - that it didn't, had set her mind to hammering out the flaws in the predictive system.

But, after nearly twenty minutes of examining, reexamining, and then re-reexamining the events that had led them to the dead juniper bush, she had finally just excepted the likelihood that her high probability scalar model had, in fact, functioned properly... and that her experience had simply been one of extremely low probability.

The science was there, immutable, inflexible, and sound. The factors were present, accounted for, and real. The situation had not introduced any new conditions that she hadn't (in some way) taken into account. But, there it was, plain as her cutiemark: they had failed to apprehend the intruder.

Mistral had returned to stalking the parapets, gliding like a liquid shadow from tower to tower on occasion as she searched for other clues. Celestia remained oddly quiet, looking over her garden as the guardsponies and specialists poured over the scene for further evidence. Luna was silently glaring at the disturbed soil next to the wall, having wrenched the dead evergreen from the earth the moment protective wards had been completed... a sight which had made others in the area a touch nervous as it was clearly apparent that she was working on some obscure spellform.

For their own part, the guards were warily checking and rechecking every thing they could think of to determine how the intruder had escaped their notice for so long, as well as how it had attacked so many without apparent repercussion. They had been informed, some minutes ago, that the ailment which had afflicted their fellow Guard had been traced to an obscure and unusual form of necromancy. And with that revelation, Mistral's theory had become the working order of the night.

If it weren't for Twilight Sparkle's inherent frustration that the assailant had slipped away, she would likely have been thrilled (and slightly disgusted) by the promise of a distinctly new application of an established spellform... forbidden or not. Necromancy, while highly frowned upon, did have some respectable applications in the medical field, as well as horticulture, industry, and even agricultural planning. And, while the direct influence of necromancy's premiere talent set was strongly discouraged, the viable hedge applications proved temptingly legal.

After all, necromancy could be used to prevent cave ins around coastal towns by influencing the skeletal remains of sea life. Necromancy could be used to revive a dead strain of crops or blighted medicinal herbs. Necromancy could even be used to save the living bodies of those in critical accidents, supplementing and preserving the tissues until proper medical techniques could be applied.

That such practices were generally frowned upon meant little in the mind of Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria and Physical Embodiment of the Element of Magic.

Thankfully, Twilight Sparkle, friend of countless neighbors and acquaintances across Equestria, had enough restraint to only study necromancy in its theoretical forms... rather than in practical application.

None the less, she fumed over the loss of her current source of consternation, almost as much as for the loss of a new source of research material.

All of which came to an abrupt and jarring halt when Princess Luna turned to her sister and simply stated "it is gone."

At which point, a new question lay siege to Twilight Sparkle's mind: what in Equestria could outwit the Princess of the Night?

---

-~o0o~-

Dark places were becoming increasingly predictable as a matter of waking.

With a shaky start, she slid an arm across the ground, carefully checking her immediate surroundings for ledges or holes which might encourage further unexpected travel, before slowly lifting her torso into a more upright position. She hurt all over. Bones and scraps of desiccated tissue scraped across unusually smooth ground as she took in her surroundings.

Wherever she was, it was deep underground, something that was both unsurprising and almost absurdly obvious. She had been digging, after all, but the cavern she had tumbled into was so much larger and cleaner than expected that she half suspected it to have been constructed as some sort of underground city.

As she looked around, the soft felglow of her eyes brought just enough illumination to the place that she began to pick out finer details. The cavern, and there was no mistaking it for anything else at that point, was enormous. Stretching dozens of yards in every direction before meeting glass-like walls or fading into the dark recesses of the unknown. The floor, hard and tile-like, lay almost as flat as a pond, interrupted only by the occasional stone column or crystalline growth. Of the ceiling, she could see no evidence, its height apparently lost to the shadowy abyss above.

For a moment, she simply lay there, propped up upon her elbows as her gaze searched the perpetual night of the underground. Memories of Northrend's frozen wastes bled into the long forgotten tunnels and underground cities of the ancient spider race that had lived for ages uncounted beneath those frosty plains.

She had been there, years ago, when the old tunnels had been opened up. She had seen the undead mockeries of that once proud people, and she had descended into those living crypts.

There had been spiders by the millions. They had wandered along in the dark, scuttling across webs thick enough to be mistaken for tree trunks, swarming in uncounted numbers as they sought endlessly elusive prey. There had been entire regions which had been so deeply hidden, that even with divine aide, she doubted she would be able to find them again... were she insane enough to try.

There had been a cavern, like this, which had been left barren, and it was only when her party had entered that they discovered why. The resulting massacre had left her party with only three members, all of which escaped the massive fangs and acidic venom of the crypt lords with little more than their skin. In her own case, a good portion of even that had been sacrificed to ensure their survival.

Of the other members of her troupe, there had been precious little left to recover. Spiders, after all, did not leave their prey unattended.

With a slowness that bordered on the glacial, she began to slowly pull herself towards the nearest wall. Steadily, and with as little sound as possible, she slid her arms across the stone, pricking skeletal fingers into imperfections in the surface to offer grip. While she saw no evidence of life, she knew from experience that a lack of obvious signs did not mean a room was unwatched.

---

-~o0o~-

Mistral was frustrated.

Where, just hours ago, she had figured out a crucial part to the mystery involving the abduction of the Unnamed Hero, since the near confrontation in the garden, there had been no sign of their quarry at all. Normally, there would be clues: a forgotten scrap of cloth, a window left cracked open, a hoofprint or the unusually lucky wallet, but this time there was only a swath of dead plants, a garrison's worth of recovering Guardsponies, and a patch of disturbed soil behind the hole of an uprooted evergreen bush.

Even from above, she hadn't been able to spot anything suspicious. The rest of the gardens appeared healthy and the gates were as solidly held as ever. The walls had been checked time and again and pronounced, uniformly, intact. None of Princess Luna's wards had been breached and none of the castle staff had reported any disturbances.

Not even Princess Celestia's raising the sun 3 hours early had shed any light upon their mystery outside of determining that the soil had, indeed, been disturbed as the culprit tunneled away.

The Crown had been seeking agreeable Diamond Dogs to trace the tunnel, but that would take at least an hour or two to reach an understanding between the temperamental creatures. Apparently, the ponies had a reputation of torture and abuse within the ranks of the Diamond Dogs... something that no historical accounts noted but that Princess Twilight confirmed without elaboration.

For herself, the early sun meant an early morning headache and what promised to be a longer than average day.

With a muted growl of frustration, she swooped down to inspect the patch of garden where the creature was last detected again.

---

-~o0o~-

Another stack of papers landed beside the already teetering column to his left, causing the entire tower to tremble and shift uncertainly before settling in a lopsided arch.

Duty held his breath, hoping against hope that if he moved slowly enough, he could steady the architecturally unsound mockery of bureaucracy upon the desk before the laws of physics could inform gravity that he was being a lazy lack-wit.

Very very slowly, he lifted his hooves from where he had been filling in appropriations forms (in triplicate) and steadied the abomination of red-tape, breathing a sigh of relief.

"YO, DUTY!" shouted the caramel colored stallion as he flew in through the second story balcony, "I GOT YOUR COFFEE BUD!"

Duty's legs stiffened, locking in place as the tower shifted and shook. Pages and notes sitting at odd angles, almost seeming to ooze out of the degrading structure from the sudden arrival as Crosswind touched down a few feet away.

"Whoa... um... not to be snarky Duty, just.... that don't look like a good thing to play with."

Duty licked his lips as another page seemed to almost squirm free before the entire stack finally became still. A tense few moments passed before Duty pressed, ever so lightly, upon the stack and began the careful process of squaring it off.

Crosswind, wisely, stayed exactly where he was, not daring to move. He'd seen far too many teachers and politicians freaked out by paper; he knew how dangerous it was to be anywhere near anything more than a few sheets of the cursed stuff at a time.

"Crosswind," Duty said after finally straightening up the pile of forms, " while I appreciate the coffee, could you please not shout randomly when simply approaching and speaking sensibly would be a feasible alternative?"

Smirking slightly, the pegasus rolled his eyes and lifted the insulated bottle of coffee from his bag before placing it on the other end of Duty's desk.

"Yheah, sure. No problem. Did you want me to run up to your desk when stuff's falling all over or just sprint and slide the last couple'a feet so you don't have to worry about being startled then?"

Duty closed his eyes as he considered exactly what being dismissed from Celestia's service actually meant in terms of employment. Just a day ago, he'd been working within the palace, leading a force of specialists and coordinating police actions while being able to utilize militarily trained service ponies to enact the will of the Crown. He'd been just one step short of a proper military leader and had garnered the respect (and associated perks) of such a rank. He'd been invited to parties (which he had politely turned down), informed of sensitive information (which he had dutifully filtered and sent along to the Princesses), and maintained a tight watch over the rank and file, ensuring no funny business or slacking ever occurred.

And then that washed up old dirt bag had gone and opened his mouth, making him look like a fool.

Duty sighed. No, that wasn't quite right. The gardener had been military and had technically outranked him. He had been following royal decree and had, technically brought up some important information... technically.

No matter how he looked at the situation, he just couldn't find where he should have been able to figure out that a garden trowel would lead to almost catching a grave robber.

Granted, he could have been more polite.... should have been more polite really, but he was supposed to have been in charge!

With a slight sniff of irritation, Duty looked back up at the clerk who had been assigned to help him through 'orientation' at the Bureau of Form Processing. "No. No, I'm sorry Crosswind. It's just the nerves. Thank you for the coffee."

Crosswind smiled brightly before nodding and turning to leave. "Alright then Duty. I'll check back up on you in an hour or so. Just give a holler if ya need to ask any questions. Just 'cuz you're older doesn't mean you know everything, so don't be embarrassed if you can't figure some of the new gizmos out!"

As Duty resisted the urge to shout out his 'trainer' about knowing more than most of the staff of the Bureau put together, Crosswind spread his wings and darted up towards the third floor sorting deck... causing Duty to grind his teeth as the stack of forms instantly exploded from the wind.

---

-~o0o~-

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