Lost Reflections

by Purple Patch

Chapter 15

It took a lot to disturb the mid-morning peace at Sparkler’s home but Derpy coming down to find her most precious daughter so horribly sick and bleeding caused panic unparalleled.

She took the place of Pipsqueak, frantically mopping at where Dinky was bleeding, begging her not to die, until the Doctor and Sparkler, with great difficulty, managed to calm her. Tenderly, her parents wrapped Dinky up in a towel and carried her out the house, heading straight to the hospital.

Pipsqueak could not eat that morning and sat on his bed, his head in his lap, his eyes refusing to close, stunned with worry.

The foals were quiet as they ate much less than what they usually did. Not even Truffle Shuffle asked for a third pancake.

Quietly saying their goodbyes, Tootsie and Sparkler watched them make their way home.

Some had their parents pick them up, others lived reasonably close enough to walk home safely. Ruby was one such filly. A short walk up through town put her squarely on the path home where Berry Punch would be waiting.

Ruby took each step gingerly, thinking hard about what she’d seen.

Dinky was throwing up blood.

That could not have been a good sign.

Even in her worst of ailments, her mother had never reported to have done that.

She’d have to ask her mother about this when she got home. Or her Aunt Cheerilee.

The whole town would probably be concerned. Dinky was so nice to everypony. The CMC had once gone on to say she sets an example for the rest of the foals.

Her mind flooded with worries and notions, Ruby found the door to her house unlocked. Her mother was home.

Thank goodness. Ruby felt she needed her at this time.

“Mum?” she called out. The lights were off. There was no sound anywhere in the house.

She remembered her mother and aunt had gone out with some friends. Berry had told Ruby the importance of turning off every light and locking every door after leaving the house long ago.

But if she wasn’t home...who unlocked the door?

There was a package that had been put through the mailbox but it wasn’t wrapped in the usual manner, just plain paper envelope without a stamp. Derpy couldn’t have delivered it, particularly since she’d spent the morning with them and was now taking Dinky to hospital.

Uncertain, Ruby picked it up and read.

To Ruby

From Mummy

She tilted her head, slightly confused. Opening it, she found herself even more confused.

It was a DVD. Also unmarked.

The house had a player and a TV, a birthday present from Aunt Cheerilee so that Berry could watch the filming of the school plays Ruby had starred in.

Why would her mother send her a DVD? Was it a message? A gift? She could find no sensible reason for it.

Not stopping to turn on a light, Ruby switched on the devices, put in the DVD and sat tentatively on the floor.

It played automatically. There was no menu.

The screen was black, then blurry, then black again. Then a face appeared, illuminated by a colourless light.

It was a purple-coated mare with blonde dreadlocks and a criss-crossed scar across her cheek.

She smiled at the camera in a way Ruby found unsettling. It was nothing like mummy’s smile or aunt Cheerilee’s smile or even any smile she’d ever seen.

The mare in the film spoke, her accent Horsetralian.

“Ello mates” she said, almost merrily “Welcome back. I’m...well, you know who I am, and I found myself some real fine chums in mainland Equestria, Ponyville to be precise. Nice place, bring your camera, it’s worth a visit” Her manner was so jovial yet the room was dim and appeared quite dank. The mare looked away from the camera, which came to a stop and rested in front of a quivering bundle of what looked like rope and gunnysack “And now, I bet you're just aching to see the first of my new mates. She’s a real nice one, only thirty-four this year, lovely shade of maroon all round and a nice set of curves” she winked and placed a hoof over the bundle “Fillies and gentlecolts, feast yer peepers!”

Ruby had, just then, realised what the bundle was.

A pony, tied to a chair with a sack over its head. Faint groans and whimpers came from behind the sack and as it was lifted, Ruby gave a gasp and threw herself back against the seat of the couch, her khaki eyes wide and sunken with horror.

Her mother stared groggily at the camera, bleeding from the nose and lip, her head lolling against her shoulder. The dreadlocked mare placed a hoof around Berry’s shoulder and flashed a grin.

“Tell ‘em your name, darl. Loud and clear”

Berry gave a small, shuddering whine but said nothing.

“Your name, love. I don’t think they heard it”

Berry refused to speak.

Ruby stared, unable to speak with a gaping mouth and a trembling lip.

The dreadlocked mare gave the back of Berry’s mane a tug and spoke less jovially.

“Tell them your name”

“No” Berry mumbled.

The mare took a deep inhale through flared nostrils as her horn glowed green.

Ruby watched, transfixed, as a small knife that looked better suited for gardening hovered before the camera and began to glow with heat.

Berry’s plum-purple eyes widened with terror at the sight as the mare beside her idly checked her hooves.

“B-B-Berry. Berry Punch! My name’s Berry Punch!” she stammered before the mare’s hoof clasped over her mouth.

“Shh...” She whispered, slowly retracting her hoof and pausing a moment, tilting the camera a little lower to show all of Berry Punch seated in the chair.

Then, as Berry opened her mouth to answer, the knife dived down and buried itself in her right hind-leg.

Ruby drew back, no sound able to escape from her mouth, her heart hammering against her chest as her mother’s screams poured out the TV speaker.

On and on she screamed until the knife was slowly removed, having cooled significantly, leaving behind a horrific, bleeding incision.

“Sorry, I interrupted you there. You were saying?” the mare asked.

“You...you...” the terrified mother spluttered through shock and pain “You’re crazy!”

The mare gave a laugh that sounded absolutely genuine.

“Love, I’ll take you to see some of my co-workers one day. You’ll know real crazy. But anyway...Your name?”

“Buck you!”

The mare’s smile vanished and her foreleg shot forward, slugging Berry Punch across the face with ferocity, before grabbing her throat and hissing, bared-teeth fury prevalent on her once-composed face.

“You better watch your scudding language, ya’ filthy nag! There are foals watching!” Her hoof relaxed as she continued in a more measured and far more insidious tone as her grin returned.

“Yours”

“Wh...What?” Berry’s horrified gape matched her daughters as her captor smiled sweetly at the camera and cooed.

“Hello Ruby. Look, mummy’s on TV! How’s your day been, sweetheart? Having fun at school? Well, your mummy and I and are about to teach you a really important lesson now so watch closely. Very important you know why you should never play with sharp objects”

Her horn glowing, she brought up a thin, curved blade, spun it in front of the camera and rested it upon Berry’s other hind-leg.

The captive whimpered.

“Please! Please don’t hurt her! Not my daughter! Not my little Ruby!”

“Don’t worry, love. I ain’t touched her. Swear on my life. I’m just leaving her a little message to let her know why mummy’s away. Now, Ruby...Do you spell Berry with two ‘r’s or just one? Let me show you”

As the knife pressed against soft flesh, Ruby watched as her mother, streams of tears pouring down her cheeks, looked directly into the camera and pleaded.

“Ruby...Don’t look! Please don’t look!”

*

Every step the three ponies took into the cavern sounded like the beat of an almighty drum.

Braeburn had never seen anything like the ponies before him.

The cultists clambered across the area, attempting to surround them, baring their hooks and snarling.

The stench of fear was on them and the Eternal Knights knew it.

They were known by the Cult and all those who thought the worst of the Princesses of Equestria.

These were not the Bearers of Harmony. These were not like anything Equestria was used to defending itself with.

These were ponies who killed. Ponies who went into the most gruelling situations and reminded those within what fear was. Ponies who looked murderers and rapists in the eyes and showed them there were far worse things between earth and Tartarus.

Hunters in the shadows. The last surviving testament of the reign of Nightmare Moon.

Honourable, dedicated, steadfast and, in the right company, very pleasant.

But not merciful.

Not to ponies like the Cult.

White Wolf gave her throwing dagger a spin in one hoof as Fletcher surveyed the scene.

“How much blood is that exactly?” he asked quietly “Do you know? How many died to make this pool? How many...” The unicorn gritted his teeth and asked louder “How many?!”

One of the cultists clambered about a rock with difficulty keeping balance with his wilfully malformed body. He raised his hook and screamed.

“TRANSGRESS-urk!”

He jerked, transfixed by a throwing dagger embedded in his forehead, and toppled over.

There was quiet. The cultists stared at the body while Midnight and Fletcher turned their heads to Wolf from whose hoof the knife had been thrown.

The pegasus gave them an inoffensive glance.

“What? He startled me”

Fletcher stifled a chuckle while Midnight gave a sigh.

“Well...that concludes negotiations” he said as one dextrous hoof took hold of the handle of his blade.

“If it’s shrieking and holding a knife, kill it”

“I love straightforward” White Wolf said, grinning wildly, as she drew two, slick shortswords and raised them high in the air.

“Qi Lunay Raath!”

Backed into a corner, Braeburn stared, speechless, as the three hunters leapt into the throng and preceded, with equal grace and wildness, to carve their way through the cavern.

The batpony, Midnight Blade, with a colossal flap of his wings, swooped up high and stabbed his blade into the ground. The stone below them cracked, the pool of blood sinking below. Parts of the cavern floor rose and sunk, separating the cultists from their collective assembly. In small groups, they were pitted against the three knights.

Midnight’s namesake, his great falchion, was a formidably-crafted weapon near as heavy as a boulder. Yet the Record-Keeper weaved and twisted it round his hooves as if it were silk. A storm of steel and bloodshed in any battle, cultists fell to him in their dozens with every swing. Batponies, fabled creatures in the darker parts of mythology, had access to magic known only to them. In flashes of rippling crimson mist, Midnight would disappear and reappear where the crowds were tightest and with mortal strikes set about replacing the bloodbath of innocents with the blood of those who had put it there.

White Wolf was different. Pegasi were fast and Wolfsong even faster. The Storm-Runner earned her name through a deadly mixture of speed and ferocity. Rapidly slicing to and fro with her shortswords, small blows opened up major veins and arteries, causing fatal or debilitating wounds upon her foe. In the time it took to blink, the pegasus sped through the cavern, leaving trails of dead and dying in her wake. Bigger foes such as the boar-skull guard, took many strikes. Such wasn’t a problem for her. Before they could even raise their hooves, tallies of cuts and slashes spread across their chests, necks and faces before the knight plunged the blades into their bodies, all the while snarling like the wolf whose name she bore.

As to Fletcher Fray, his method of fighting was something else entirely. The Battle-Brother was composed, steady, barely needed to canter, let alone charge. Fletcher, as unicorns were partial to doing, fought with magic. Shots from his bow came rapid and powerful, piercing through as many as four targets at a time. Whole flurries of quarrels sped from his ancestral weapon which, if the odd cultist managed to draw near, morphed into a lethal spear in a flash. Switching between the two fighting styles with ease, the unicorn provided a one-pony artillery arsenal.

One boar-skull neared Midnight, swinging a multi-headed flail. The batpony was quick to dodge but the flails simply kept coming, smashing into the rock around. As the boar-skull tried backing his opponent into a corner, he gave a guttural howl.
It was cut short, however, by a generous-sized rock lobbed with accuracy at the back of his head, sending him stumbling, squealing, as the flail caught itself between the crags in the wall. The foreleg holding it was swiftly severed by the opportunistic Midnight Blade, who raised his weapon for the killing blow, cracking a smirk.

“That’s unfortunate”

It didn’t take long before the last of the cultists fell, one swipe of Midnight’s falchion sending the final boar-skull flying from its neck. White Wolf flew high, surveyed the scene and gave her own blades a satisfied spin, admiring their handiwork. Fletcher paced quietly over to the Appaloosan Deputy who was slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

“Braeburn, is it?” he asked, passing him a water canteen with which Braeburn washed the blood out of his face before taking several great gulps. Fletcher patted him on the shoulder, smiling encouragingly.

“Nice shot”

There came a groan from the steps. Midnight had found the priest of the shrine and kept him alive, his back legs hamstringed.

Snarling, the Record-Keeper grabbed him by the throat. The priest seemed to be chewing on something and dropped a half-eaten plant with blotchy, thistly black and khaki leaves. White Wolf peered at it while Midnight spoke, his voice quiet but formidable.

“Start talking and I will make this painless. It’s more than you deserve. By what means did you come here and who aided you?”

“You...” the priest growled “Will...Learn...Nothing!” He jerked, his cheeks rippling, looking as if a seizure was gripping him.

There was a blur of navy and silver and White Wolf grabbed Midnight’s shoulders and tore him away from his captive.

“Stay back!” she cried.

As the priest hit the ground, he spluttered and vomited a colossal amount, practically gushing for about half a minute before falling backwards, making no movement, staring up at the ceiling.

There was a pause as the four remaining living ponies in the room stared at the grotesque spectacle.

“Okay...Ew!” Fletcher said at last “What...What just happened and why?”

After a pause, Midnight checked his pulse.

“Damn it!” he snapped “Dead”

“You’re joking!” the green unicorn shook his head, dumbfounded “Are you telling me this guy literally barfed himself to death?!”

“It’s their chosen method of ritual suicide. Look” White Wolf, a talented herbalist, picked up the plant the priest had dropped “Bilethorn Bulb, one of the most powerful natural emetics and laxatives in the Known World. Among urban Equestrian communities it’s known as the 'Bowel-Buster'”

“How quaint” Midnight said in a deadpan fashion “But why did it kill him?”

“Taken neat, the toxins overstimulate the stomach acids, causing them to overflow, burning their way through both ways out the digestive tract and causing a fatal shock”

“...nasty...” Braeburn said at length.

“Why is everything they do so bucking disgusting?” Fletcher snapped “I want to be done with this lot quick! I miss foes with better standards of hygiene!”

Midnight, meanwhile, eyed the body.

“Get him home” he ordered Fletcher who was steadying a rising Braeburn “Then head back to base. Wolf...Take that one’s head” he gestured to the priest “I’ve a use for it”

“Well that sure couldn’t be taken out of context” the pegasus muttered as she set about removing the head with a sharpened axe.

Fletcher, meanwhile, cast his commander an uneasy glance, helping a groggy Braeburn out the cavern.

“The Princess is not going to like this” he said.

“Neither am I, Fletcher” Midnight replied grimly “But there’s no other way. Too many have suffered gruesome fates already. We can’t allow this to happen a second time” He gave the corpse a disdainful look at his colourless eyes shimmered.

“And there are ways to make a dead pony talk”

*

Big Mac hadn’t slept since Cheerilee and her friends had been checked into the hospital. He’d barely managed to tear himself away from the place. He’d rushed back to the Orchard and informed Granny Smith of what had taken place, barely managing to speak without breaking down. Then, with her knowledge and permission, had stayed outside Cheerilee’s room in Ponyville Hospital, his head bowed, tears falling from his eyes without him even realising.

When he thought about how she looked when she came to him, so horribly injured and traumatised, this mare who had been there for him and Bloom and so many others when it mattered...

Who had done that to her? And why? What did they gain from putting her and others through such horror?

Hoofsteps on the hospital floor close by caused him to jerk up suddenly.

It was Nurse Redheart.

He gave a weary sigh, it dawning on him how tired he was.

Redheart, bless her, was bringing tea.

“Thankee, ma’am” Mac took hold of one of the teacups offered and came to realise his hooves were shaking.

He was turning into a wreck.

At last, homely Nurse Sweetheart emerged from Cheerilee’s room, brow beaded with sweat.

Mac was up like a flash, stammering with worry.

“N-N-Nurse! I-I-Is she...she...is sh-she...”

The lilac nurse raised one hoof reassuringly.

“Miss Cheerilee is going to pull through, Mr McIntosh” Her words were followed by the massive red stallion collapsing to his knees, gasping with relief “It was...quite a close one. She lost a frightening amount of blood but her type is fairly common and it wasn’t too difficult or costly to arrange the necessary procedures. She’ll need rest and no small amount of safe company. She’s been through a traumatic ordeal”

“Ah...Ah understand...C-can I...”

“Mac?” a frail voice came from behind Nurse Sweetheart as Big Mac carefully walked in, preparing himself for the worst.

Cheerilee had been washed and was now sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. One could see where the wounds had been made. To Big Mac’s horror, there were an awful lot, all now bandaged but clearly prominent. Burn marks also showed up across parts of her body and though her eyes were bloodshot, her forest-green pupils had a certain milky look beneath slight bags. She looked quite a far distance from the young, perky, ever-helpful schoolteacher the Apples had come to love and admire.

Yet still, she managed a smile.

“Thank you...darling” she murmured “For...for helping me...”

Mac smiled through his tears and nodded.

“No problem...Ah’m just glad yer okay...Do you...D’you think y’all be alright after this?”

“I think so...” the mare raised a trembling hoof over her jaw were several teeth, loosened by whomever tortured her, had been given sealing “Mac...Where are the others?”

The stallion winced. He’d dreaded being the one to tell her.

As he opened his mouth, however, his voice was overtaken by another.

“They have him!” the voice was unmistakably Doctor Stable Horse’s. He sounded far from calm “That mad nag! She has Caramel!”

“Please calm down, Doctor” Redheart said, trying to sound soothing despite her palpable anxiety.

“How can I calm down?! That...psychopath has my nephew and tortures him for a laugh!”

“What’s happening out there?” Cheerilee mumbled. Mac opened the door and glanced outside.

The Doctor had been weeping, his glasses foggy with moisture. He was slumped over the chair Mac had sat upon bare moments ago and was grasping his brow with one hoof. Nurse Redheart fussed over him, holding his free forehoof comfortingly.

“It won’t be long now. The Wonderbolts are going searching this afternoon. You need to send it to the town hall. It might help. We...”

“What’s going on?” Mac asked “Doctor? Nurse?”

Redheart answered for the traumatised Doctor.

“You remember Caramel was missing with Cherry and Berry?” Mac heard Cheerilee gasp at her sister’s name as the Nurse continued “Someone...sent Doctor Horse a DVD. Whoever did this has been...torturing them and...” she blanched “Oh it’s just horrible...They send the footage to their friends and family”

At this, Cheerilee shot up in bed, her eyes wide with horror as she shrieked out the name of one she knew would fall among that category, one who was and always had been immeasurably precious to her as she was to her sister.

“RUBY!”

As quickly as he’d rushed to the hospital, Mac rushed to Berry Punch’s house. He’d been there a couple of times. Berry and her friends invited him over for tea and other such events that would cause him to spend awkward amounts of time with Cheerilee. The schoolteacher often cast scowls at her sister for such embarrassments though neither she nor Mac could say that they found the meetings unpleasant.

Finding the right door, the stallion’s heart raced to find it already unlocked.

He found his eyes stuck rigid upon the image of Cheerilee, bloodied and agonised. He couldn’t bare thinking of such a thing befalling a foal like Ruby.

He didn’t know her well but Ruby was often very amicable around him and Applebloom and was, in any case, a filly very near and dear to Cheerilee.

Slowly opening the door, he found the lights off and the house cold.

Then a noise. A sniffling, a whimper of sorts.

Slowly, Big Mac made his way to the living room.

Ruby Pinch lay crouched, her head buried in her chest, crying alone. The television was going, a DVD having stopped at a stencil-like black and white image of a crying, bleeding mare.

It took a moment for Big Mac to realise who the mare was.

It took another moment for Ruby to look up.

“Uncle Mac!” she sobbed, flying into his chest, her little body heaving with sobs.

Ruby had taken to calling him ‘Uncle’ a while ago, also due to her mother’s foolery in getting her sister and the stallion together. He’d never minded. In fact, he quite enjoyed being an uncle. And faced with any crying filly, he did what he could, gently hugging her back and doing his best to calm her, still perplexed and worried at the sight on the television screen.

“Ruby...What’s wrong?”

“It’s mummy! She’s hurting mummy!” Ruby wailed “The horrible mare in the movie! She has my mummy! She’s hurting my mummy! I had to watch! I had to! I needed to know if she was...if she was still alive...”

Saying those words again and again, the filly lost herself in a fit of despair, resting limply in the stallion’s forehooves.

Mac, meanwhile, took in what had taken place.

Whoever had tortured Cheerilee and her friends now had Berry Punch, Caramel and Cherry Berry. She was torturing them, filming the footage and sending it to their loved ones.

Big McIntosh, as a rule, didn’t get angry too often. Even during the ‘Gabby Gums Incident’, a series of mishaps and mistakes from all involved parties that he felt bad about to this day, his anger had never escalated beyond some harsh words to register disapproval.

This was different. This was unlike any act of villainy or malevolence he’d ever witnessed or even heard about in any way.

This was pure evil.

And it was making him unspeakably angry.

*

It happened so quickly, Shining Armour had trouble processing it.

One moment he was giving the order to repel the attack from the walls.

The next moment, there were no walls. He and the defenders were lying in piles of brick and rubble, half-conscious, in the fortress courtyard, a great hammering at the gates jerking them out of their stupor.

None of them seemed seriously injured. They hadn’t so much fallen as slid down. But somehow, regardless, the walls had simply fallen and Quartzwald was unable to defend itself.

There was a roar from behind the fortress doors that definitely did not sound equine.

Adjusting his helmet and tearing off a piece of his cloak to staunch a gash on his foreleg, Captain-General Shining Armour rose to his legs and drew his sword as the doors flew open and hulking beast lumbered through.

“GRENDEL ENTERS!”

A musk ox. One of the largest intelligent beasts in the Frozen North and one of the strongest. Most musk oxen, however, were gentle, operating out of large, sociable tribes in the hills. But this one seemed very different. Its hair was untidily shaven, exposing its rippling muscles and angry grey scars across its body and its shoulders were adorned with a necklace of heads and skulls, raw and bloody, open-mouthed and dead-eyed.

But its most prominent feature was its face. Demented was putting it lightly, the beast had no sign of sanity. Its eyes were miniscule pecks of grey set in wide milky pools, never blinking but constantly twitching. Its nose and mouth dribbled incessantly, its lips set in a morbid grin that seemed forced, as if independent of its owner, barely resembling a smile of any kind. Its sloping horns were chipped and fasted with spiked rings and bloody metal tips.

It eyed the unicorn and bellowed.

“GRENDEL SLAYS!”

An ox of any kind charging was not something to get in the way of. Shining Armour leapt deftly but still barely avoided the beast’s rush, scrambling back on his hooves, he struck out.

Grendel, if that was his name, twisted his head round and growled as the sword pierced his shoulder. With a howl, he swung round.

The ox was quick, far quicker than Shining expected, and the unicorn found himself seized by the shoulder, picked up high and the air and slammed to the ground. The air was knocked out of the unicorn and his fetlocks failed him as he collapsed, a ragdoll in Grendel’s grip.

The musk-ox held the captain-general against his chest, not pleasant given the smell of him, as his cloven forehoof grabbed him under the chin and proceeded to pull.

The beast was giggling like a schoolfoal as he spoke.

“Grendel picks pretty fruit”

Shining felt every muscle in his neck and shoulders tense to breaking point. His legs kicking frantically, the unicorn screamed in agony as his captor pulled and pulled.

“Captain!”

The sword Shining had dropped levitated in a purple haze as Lemon Hearts cast it forward. It stuck deep in the ox’s foreleg. With a howl, he released his clutch around Shining’s head. One hoof, however, still held him by the shoulder. Taking a couple of kicks to the face from his captive, Grendel chucked him forward.

“GRENDEL SLIGHTED!” he shrieked as Shining clattered to the ground, struggling to regain focus.
“Form up! Hold the line!” A cry from the fortress signalled reinforcements approaching, pouring into the courtyard and swiftly forming a shield wall. It granted Shining Armour a moment of respite as he and Lemon Hearts headed the defensive.

The force calling themselves ‘Jotnar’, flooded through the gates. The crimson moose approached, smiling cockily. He had heavy whiskers and sideburns a shade more ginger than his coat but his accent was closer to Equestrian than the tongue of the far north.

“It’s a shame, this” he chuckled, twirling a menacing warhammer in one hoof “We’re usually the forgiving sort. But I’m afraid the Warhost cannot ignore this offence”

“Offence?!” Shining Armour barked indignantly “You’re attacking us unprovoked!”

“Yes. And you’re defending yourselves and we take offence to that. It tells us we’re not doing our job right”

Shining Armour raised his blade as the defenders formed a shield wall in the courtyard, picking up their wounded brethren and dragging them behind.

“Who are you?” the Captain-General asked, grim-faced.

“Me?” the moose smiled “I’m Knuckle”

Shining Armour paused.

“Knuckle...Moose Knu-Oh really?!” the unicorn shot him a disgusted look.

“No, not really! Gets ‘em every time though” he guffawed “It’s Thrym. Thrym Hrodrisson. Happy to meet your acquaintance, Captain-General Shining Armour. I’ll ensure I leave enough of your remains for burial at your wife’s place”

“Why are you here? Are you in charge of this force? Answer me”

“I’m not sure I have to...But seeing as you’re curious, we’re here on an assignment and that’s all you’ll get out of me. And no, I’m not what you’d call the commander here, merely the first lieutenant. If you want our commander, she’s...preoccupying herself”

Shining Armour blinked.

“She?”

“Don’t look too surprised. You have your princesses dancing around in their high castles...Ours just prefers breaking them down”

Below the walls, Flash Sentry struggled to his hooves, the explosion above rumbling the corridors. Alma trembled on the ground, covering her face, as if hoping this was all a nightmare. The figure who’d pressed the detonator didn’t even budge.

“Wh-what did you do?!” the orange pegasus barked, holding out his blade again “What was that?!”

“The wall. I brought it down. That’s what I do to walls”

“Sh...Shining’s up there!”

“I know”

Behind the helmet, Flash could swear the antlered fiend was smiling.

He gritted his teeth.

“You...You sick nag!”

He lunged forward with a bellow. Swift as a loose quarrel, the armoured foe had drawn an absolutely massive axe and blocked the strike deftly, glancing at him unimpressed.

His hoof, however, she did not see coming. It knocked off the helmet but didn’t do a whole lot to impede her.

Bringing the axe round, she knocked the blade of Flash’s grip and seized him by the throat, forcing his gaze upon her.

She was a caribou, notorious raiders without equal, bugbears and bogeybeasts across rural Equestria. Her coat was pale and a shaggy platinum blonde mane sloped down her scalp and was woven into tassels and tails. A grim green eye stared at him menacingly. Half of her seemed weathered but not ugly.

The same could not be said for the other half. Flash Sentry did not want to think about what had happened to her but the right side of her face was a chalk-white, withered husk. Hair, skin and muscle practically clung to the bone in a tight wrapping, millimetres thin. The eye was sunken and colourless. Whether she could see out of it was a mystery.

Whatever had happened to her had hurt.

Steeling himself, Flash struck out with his hoof again, aiming for the right side.

He cried in pain, the scarred flesh he struck as hard as oak. He then flew backwards, laid low by a mighty headbutt that left him semi-conscious, groaning on the floor. Blood trickled from his lip and nostrils as the caribou spoke.

“The crying filly already tried that. It won’t end any better for you”

“Who...” Flash coughed and turned over, staring up at his opponent “Who the hay even are you? What do you want?”

The caribou tilted her head, measuring him, and spoke.

“My name is Angrboda, Herald of the End Times, and what I want, you don’t have” She gripped her axe “But I’ll settle for seeing the looks on your faces as those you believe snug inside your fortress die screaming”

“Wh...Why?” Flash panted.

“We have an assignment...That’s all you need to know”

“Plough your assignment!” Flash yelled, readying to raise another hoof.

This time, Angrboda was faster. Slamming the pegasus ferociously against the wall, she rendered Flash Sentry unconscious. Still holding his limb body in her forehoof by the neck, she glanced down at the weeping Alma Rose.

“I will let you flee. Crawl away, little sparrow, back to your nest. Find help for yourself and for your friends...Go”

Alma Rose stared a moment, not quite certain what the caribou meant by allowing her to flee. Then, glancing at her severed leg, then at the unconscious Flash Sentry, she fell flat on her stomach and crawled, pulling herself forward down the corridors on her forelegs.

“HELP!” she screamed, weeping openly, lost in pain and terror of the events, wondering if the whole world had just gone mad “SOMEPONY HELP!”

As the mare disappeared down the dark corridor, Angrboda gave a snort of contempt as she was joined by members of her retinue, cradling blades and clubs, eager for proper battle.

“Follow her. She’ll lead you to the rest. Once she does, kill them all” She traced a forehoof over her face from where Alma had struck her before.

“Save her for last”

*

Mayor Mare muted the DVD as Cherry Berry’s screams reached their peak and looked away in disgust as the stronger-hearted members of the Ponyville Town Council looked over the malicious DVD that had popped up around the town.

“Sweet Celestia, this is sick!” Raindrops looked away.

“This mare...sells this stuff?” Nurse Redheart exclaimed, aghast “Who...Who buys this?!”

“Ponies like her, evidently” Lady Justice answered grimly, holding her horrified wife’s forehoof.

Tall Order looked ready to throw up. By around the ten minute margin, they elected to fast-forward to the end, just to see if the three ponies were still alive by the end. To their relief, they still lived but were definitely not, in any way, in decent form.

The mare’s sadism was matched by her creativity and witnessing it was the stuff of nightmares, let alone experiencing them.

Bulk Biceps finally found his voice, his eyes twitching, the muscles in his neck and cheeks, unbelievably, tighter than normal.

His voice was oddly quiet, possessed of a fury that came slowly bowling from the darkest pits of the body, reserved solely for true, unparalleled rage.

"I'm gonna stomp 'em to dust...I’m gonna tear flesh, pull joints and shatter bones...I'm gonna roast them over fires and bury them alive...I'm gonna bash heads, break faces and jump up and down on the bits that are left...AND THEN...I'm gonna get really mean"

Mayor Mare raised her head, shaken to the core.

Fighting through the wish to simply curl up and cry at what she’d just seen, she thought of Ponyville and the scars that’d been left upon its citizens.

The news would be all over the town before the afternoon.

She had to a job to do.

The podium was set up and the town gathered by late morning where a heavy rain and dark cloud made lightening the spirits even more difficult under the circumstances. Word had indeed quickly spread around the town and panic had seeped in. Lyra worried terribly for Bonbon, who’d been sent to Canterlot on some form of assignment. Octavia and Vinyl worried if they’d make it out of Ponyville on their Baltimare tour or back again. And above all, all seven of the wounded or missing ponies were treasured friends of everypony in town. To find out that not only had they had been so horribly attacked but that not all of them were safely home.

Until now, Ponyville had always seemed so safe.

True, all too often it would see an attack from some monster or menace but the Bearers of the Elements would always keep them at bay.

Yet they were gone. And the worst threat in eons had presented itself.

Mayor Mare and the senior members of the council approached, two of their number still hospitalised.

The ponies around stared up, blind and numb to the rain, the overpowering sense of dread and gloom as thick as clay.

The mayor stepped up, cleared her throat and spoke solemnly.

“Ponies of Ponyville...” she began “Today...our town has been...besieged...by creatures without hearts...the safety and security in which we have raised our foals has been violated. Seven of our nearest and dearest friends have been horribly and senselessly tortured...and three still have yet to be found...This is...most certainly...a terrifying time for us all...And exactly what these monsters want”

She took a pause. Already her mane was wet, sloping down over her brow.

“Often when this town was threatened, we relied on the Bearers of Harmony to aid us...Alas, they cannot. They have been called elsewhere. We must not blame them for this...not least owing to what we already have to thank them for. In this time...it falls to us to protect ourselves and each other from this unearthly menace” She cleaned the mist out of her spectacles and, instead, resolved to remove them a while.

“Now...as you well know...orchestrated violence is abhorred and denounced here in Ponyville and under common circumstances we have no wish, right or reason to even consider such actions”

Those around nodded.

“However...” her tone darkened as her forehooves gripped the podium, remembering the agonised faces of Berry Punch, Cherry Berry and Caramel “I think I speak for us all...when I say...THEY STARTED IT!”

The crowd edged back in unison at their town official’s sudden fury.

Drawing herself up, the Mayor continued, her voice rigid with determination.

“We in Ponyville have long held the lessons of Friendship and Harmony close to our hearts and minds...And some believe this makes us weak and foolish. I, for one, intend to prove them dreadfully wrong! As soon as we are able, we put any resources and influences we may have available to retrieving our friends and delivering justice to the monsters who torment them! We will prove to them that we are not simple cowards who let others fight our battles! We will prove to the Bearers and the Princesses that the lessons they have taught us have been well learned! We will prove to our imprisoned companions that their lives and well-being are as precious to this town as any of our own! With every ounce of our valour and might!” She held one forehoof high above her head.

“Who’s with me?!”

There was a pause. The crowd looked at their mayor as if her mane had just turned pink, which may well have happened in the rain.

Then one cheer sounded.

It was Carrot Top, a peaceful and mellow girl at the best of times, had her forehoof raised and cheering for the Mayor.

She was joined by her coltfriend, Written Script.

And then Cranky.

Then the Flower Trio.

Then Bulk Biceps with his trademark roar of ‘Yeah!’

And before long, the entire town was cheering in the rain, ready to show the world how far their friendship could take them.

Back in the hospital, the Doctor sat, his mind racing, upon the bed where Dinky was sleeping, her mother snoozing beside her. It had been a very uneasy morning and all three of them were tired beyond words.

Yet the sound of the cheer outside slowly brought a heartened smile to his face.

Ponyville was indeed a town like no other.

And on the distant hill where Marephistallion himself once stood, shrouded by mist, a dappled batpony spied the spectacle through binoculars.

“Full of surprises, this lot” he murmured “We’ll have to keep an eye on them”

*

Moon Tea’s bar lay on the crossroads not very far from Ponyville but rarely saw anyone from the town itself.

Pinkie Pie and Applejack had stopped there a couple of times on their way to visit the Pie family residence and Starlight Glimmer as well.

But they had few things to talk about to Moon Tea himself and this suited him.

He found the company of ponies uncomfortable, though he seemed one himself.

Yet what others saw was not always so.

Moon Tea’s real name, appearance and history were known to few and his relatively obscure presence had uses that came in many forms.

He was a weathered figure and had a certain aged look. Combined with how rarely he talked to others some believed his hearing was gone.

But he heard everything.

Right now, all he heard was the trickle of the small water fountain surrounding the bonsai tree in the centre of the room as he polished the table, still a good few hours before the bar was open. The bar was famous for its certain spiritual look and attracted those interested in such a field. Tree Hugger was also among the few that frequented the bar, exchanging herbs and spices with Moon Tea and his patrons.

Now however, he wasn’t expected visitors. Yet the door chimed suddenly as a figure strolled in, removing a hood.

Moon Tea scowled at the visitor, a pony who knew more about him that he was comfortable with.

One side effect of the bar’s murky location was that one often got the odd less-than-scrupulous patron, dodging or fleeing the law.

Yet all them paled in comparison to her.

“Lovely weather we’re havin’, eh Moonie?”

The visitor was a purple unicorn mare with blonde dreadlocks, a face that would have very attractive if it wasn’t pitted with scars and a grey and brown dappled cloak she was removing almost sultrily.

“I thought I told you you’re not welcome here” Moon Tea said dourly, keeping his pale eyes fixed on the unpredictable mare.

“I decide whether I’m welcome or not, mate” She sat down at a table in the corner, placed her glaive standing upright on the wood and spun it lazily.

The barkeep gave a quiet hiss of agitation as his forehoof slid to a Neighponese blade under the counter.

“I wouldn’t do anything drastic, darl” The mare didn’t turn to look at him “I’m not gonna’ be here long”

“What do you want, Balisong?”

“Well you can oblige me with a beer if you’re able” She slid one forehoof behind her back and stretched “And then I’d like you to send a message. I’d like to meet a mare here as soon as possible. I want you to put the word out. I’m told that’s in your influence”

“It is” he said curtly “What do want from this mare?”

“I’m not entirely sure it’s in your interest to find out” she replied “Bring her round and then I’ll be out of your mane, swear on my life”

Moon Tea paused, looking the unwelcome visitor over.

“Alright” he said at last “What’s her name?”

Balisong cracked a smile.

“Round these parts, folks know her as ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie’”

Author's Note:

Second part of What Happens When The Bearers Are Away.
Let me know if you want to go back to what's happening in Boulette or what's happening here.
Maybe I need to make the chapters longer.
Getting boxed in with how many different storylines I have but then this is an Equestria-wide threat. I've been harping on about that for goodness knows how long and I need to establish it.
I felt like Balisong wasn't getting enough attention. She only appeared for a bit in the story so far so I tried to show her as somepony rather different to the others.
Instead of having small scenes that emphasise sudden brutal habits like Corax, Bovril and Gringore, she's just sadistic in the basic sense of the word.
But you'll find this is all part of a much more elaborate scheme.
The Eternal Knights are now officially in action, gives you some idea of what they're capable of.
My thanks to Bronycommander who recommended the soundtrack from Payday 2.
I required something more Hard Rock for them owing to their rather more darker persona.
What do you think they want with the head?
The Jotnar theme is that of the Thenns from Game of Thrones.
No, Jotnar aren't cannibals. Only got space for one of those.
Mayor Mare's speech is inspired by Rupert Everett's Camilla Fritton from St. Trinians. As I said, the film wasn't fantastic but he was hilarious!
Establishing Ponyville as a town of hidden Badflanks. Against a sudden monster rampage, they'll hide away but when something cold and cruel comes along dragging off their friends and terrorising their loved ones, they'll get mad. They'll get real mad.
Moon Tea is my follower CaioCoia's OC. Illustrated him a while back, he has it as his profile pic. Thank you for that.
Coming Soon: The Great And Powerful Trixie!
Was there ever any doubt?

Comments

[Bronycommander]

Your very Welcome! Don't worry Ruby, you have 3 Eternal knights, a entire Town and a Army of bronys that will save your Mother! I suppose dinky is Getting better, get well soon!

[AmorphousFurrySnakeThing]

Pretty certain they want the head for necromancy. In the classic sense (and possibly a bit of the modern).