Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part VII – Chapter I – A Visit at Night

PART VII

EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED

* * *

I know you tried your best
And now it's time to put this all to rest
Minutes pass and those days seem long ago
A distant voice, one that I used to know

There's a voice and it's trying to drag me down
If you go then I'm going with you now

* * *

Ponyville that night was duskless. One could see far down the empty streets. Such emptiness had resulted from the circulating news of the death of Bronze Pocket. Everypony was stirred, anxious, and in expectation of something significant.

Cluster had found a spot on the grass to lie down by the path, right after Airglow left him. He was in that dreary state of mind where you experience something terrible and positively life-affecting, and right after sit down to contemplate it all, only to feel strangely calm and confident that it would not be the end of the world. He must have been sitting there for at least five minutes. Every once in a while a his forehead stung, and he would automatically place his hoof at the base of his broken horn. He wondered when the pain would go away.

Then he suddenly got up, thinking, I should head back and speak with Sharp Heat. He's got some questions for me to answer, maybe about what I was doing in Ponyville before Fillydelphia.

He indeed returned, walking somewhat lazily, ears drooped, pushing aside all other decisions. Even more ponies were there, pressed up against the gate, and countless animated gazes were directed his way. He found Sharp Heat in front of the house, talking to one of the investigators, the latter of whom appeared evidently worn out.

The whole scene occurred as if in a dream. Cluster hardly remembered a thing, his head having been somewhere else; he was even confused with himself as to why he returned, having forgotten that he returned to answer any more important questions.

"What happened with your sister?" asked Sharp.

"Huh?"

"How did she take it? Did she...?"

"She cried a lot, got angry, then went back to her library," replied Cluster bluntly, without the slightest nuance. This bluntness suggested that it made no difference to him whether they lingered on this topic or not.

He learned that the autopsy was still ongoing. He also learned, from Sharp's erudite commentary on matters of such legal actions, that his brother Nova Steel had most likely committed the murder—supposedly committed the murder, that is—not too long ago.

He was asked questions with potential answers, hinging on how much Cluster was paying attention, but nothing came of it. Then Cluster bid Sharp an abrupt farewell and left, informing the captain to contact him tomorrow, because he had suddenly become very exhausted.

The walk back to his house felt like an eternity. Every step took some effort.

I can't know for sure if Nova did it; maybe it's not him, he thought automatically, as if his head were run by clockwork, but then he seemingly came to his senses. No, who else could it have been? Back then... when he left... he must be the culprit. What should I tell Airglow when I see her again? Why did I let this happen, even when I thought I wouldn't? Wait... I...

He became partly oblivious, or so he felt. Cluster could not remember for how long he had been walking. The night sky was darkening significantly, yet the full moon, with its faint unicorn-shaped array of craters, shone brighter and brighter. The air became especially stifling.

Cluster was still carried on by some purpose, that is, he recalled having had to do something, and quickly, something vaguely to do with those political tracts—but what precisely, he had forgotten. Only he had Aurora; she was the main thing in his world of complications.

He began walking to his front door, but suddenly stopped and noticed that a pony—a stallion judging by the size—standing on the other side of the gravel street. The pony lifted his hoof and gave Cluster a fleeting wave. And Cluster almost gave a start—something about this pony seemed horribly familiar, familiar yet surreal, like a dream. He looked somewhat like him even.

Cluster started across the street towards the figure but the latter suddenly turned and went on as though nothing had happened, with a hasty gait, not looking back or showing any signs that he had waved.

Was he calling to me? thought Cluster, and nevertheless went after him. When he was only half a dozen paces away, he caught a glimpse of the pony's face from the light of a lantern post, and went cold; this pony looked virtually identical to him, save for the mane which was entirely black.

Cluster's heart was pounding. He tried to keep his distance. They turned down a side street—the doppelgänger still refused to turn around.

Does he know I'm following him? thought Cluster.

They walked through the gates of a particular house, an old-looking one, largely made out of wood. It stuck out like a sore thumb. The doppelgänger walked up a set of stairs. Cluster rushed after him. This was an apartment, Cluster noticed, not a house. Where had he seen it before?

They were on the third floor. The silence had become deafening, so much so that even his steps alarmed him. The doppelgänger wandered into a lone room. Cluster went inside but he was gone.

Is he hiding?

Everything was dark and empty. His heart was pounding painfully, and still the same silence. Then a voice.

"Why did you let her die?"

Cluster instantly turned around, but saw nopony. An awakened fly suddenly swooped and struck against the window, buzzing plaintively. At the same time he made out a bed in the corner. He approached it quietly and realized that somepony seemed to be hiding under a blanket on the bed. He cautiously moved the blanket aside and saw a mare lying down, all hunched up, with her head completely bent down so that there was no way he could see her face.

Cluster squinted his eyes. "Who is...?" he muttered, instantly becoming confused. Snowfall came to mind. "Is that you?"

That doppelgänger from before was next to him.

"You're the one who did this."

Cluster jumped back, nearly losing his balance. He stared in fright, then looked back at the bed, but on the bed was nothing but blood. The blood started to ooze and spill on the floor.

"I didn't..." said Cluster breathlessly. His throat felt like sandpaper.

Suddenly laughter filled the room, soft laughter dissolving from multiple unknown sources. He wanted to run away, but could not move. Now the room was filled with ponies, all head to head, all looking—but all hushed and waiting, silent.

"If you had never left—"

His heart sank.

"You're a murderer."

Cluster woke up, breathing very heavily, almost sweating. That's right, he remembered—after having returned from his father's house, he considered going back to Golden Oak to see Airglow but changed his mind, then he went inside, exchanged some words with Daisy, checked up on his daughter, then went to sleep.

Yet strangely, it was as if the dream were still going on: the door to his room was wide open, the lamp was lit, and a pony seemingly unknown to him was standing on the threshold, studying him intently.

Cluster had not yet managed to open his eyes fully, and he instantly closed them again. He lay on his back without stirring.

Another dream? he thought, and again imperceptibly parted his eyes a little: the stranger was standing in the same place and was still peering at him. All at once the stranger stepped across the threshold, closed the door carefully behind them with magic, went over to a table, and noiselessly sat down on a chair.

A minute went by. There was total silence in the room. Daisy and Aurora were both asleep; no sound came from anywhere else. Only a big fly buzzed and struggled, striking with a swoop against the window. Finally a feeling of dread and agitation settled upon Cluster: he raised himself all at once and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Who are you?" he threw in automatically, as he had gotten up, but he immediately went quiet. Marble Solid was in his room, he was right there, staring straight at him. Am I still dreaming? came at once to his mind.

"Ah, I knew you were awake. I believe now is the best time for a proper introduction, though you already know who I am," said Marble Solid strangely, with a quiet laugh. "Right, Cluster Tale?"

Cluster was about to say, "This can't be real," for lack of tact, but instead what came out was, "What do you want with me?" out loud and in perplexity.

The visitor seemed not in the least surprised at this exclamation.

"I've come to you for two reasons," he said with extreme readiness and a habitually self-confident posture. "First, I wanted very strongly to meet you—and to do so in private, which goes without saying. Second, I hope that you may not refuse to assist me in a matter which directly concerns your welfare. Rather... without you involved in the mix, I think it would go against your interests, which is poor form."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Cluster sternly, but also somewhat openheartedly.

"I should hope not, but you will. To explain, I'm the one who orchestrated the attack on the Flying Rift Express, as well as those unfortunate incidences of missing magic which you regard as important."

And with this Marble Solid spread his hind-legs dashingly, placed a hoof on his knee, with a hunching motion forth and an expression full of significance and even benevolence, as though waiting patiently for his interlocutor's reaction.

All previous fatigue and dream-like absentmindedness disappeared at once from Cluster. His gaze sharpened; the dull pain from his horn seemingly strengthened his determination. There were far too many things to consider. Was Marble Solid here to threaten him? Kill him? Did he come alone? Did he intend to hold his daughter hostage for some kind of ransom? Did he want information on Princess Celestia? Everything seemed to be swirling around him, demanding his undivided attention.

He's figured that I know something about the elixir. He must be here to get rid of me. Or make a deal. I don't know what to do. Damn it, if only I had my magic!

But then Cluster steeled his nerves. Losing oneself to nervous fear could only make it worse. There were two sides to this in his mind. On the one hand, he really did not know what to make of this, or to what degree was his life in danger. On the other hand, he was terribly curious, though perhaps something else lay hidden underneath this fatal curiosity.

In any case, Cluster made a conscious effort to conceal his emotions. He needed more time to understand the current predicament, and so, all he replied with, in a low, almost fluctuant voice, was, "Why are you... telling me this?"

"Well..." Marble Solid chuckled in the frankest way. His eyes practically glowed like piercing embers through the semi-darkness, sometimes dimming, sometimes blinking, but never wavering. "You have only to assume that I'm an ordinary unicorn, but that would not be so. And don't regard me as a cynic; I am perfectly aware of the events which have transpired of late, of how many ponies have died. Yes, many have died. But to shift gears: did you not follow the thread to the Flying Rift? Did you not figure out the secret behind the elixir?"

"Okay, so you're the one who's behind all this," said Cluster. "Behind the Flying Rift incident, behind the demise of that crime family. It all must have taken a long time to accomplish, right? I don't know how you pulled it off. Still... I understand that much, but... Still, why me?"

Marble Solid waved his hoof. "It's only because you are an extraordinarily gifted unicorn, the most gifted I have ever seen. You are Celestia's prized pupil, which is no easy feat. I've come to you for that. My interest is not in you alone," he added, as if ascribing no importance to this fact.

(Let it be known that, to Marble Solid, Cluster had the potential to even sink his teeth into Princess Celestia, as if sensing this highly dubious potential underneath the unrefined veneer of the young unicorn.)

"Fine, but what do you even need me for? I've figured 'Marble Solid' isn't your real name, probably just an alias—who are you?"

"I can sense your apprehension. You must think that you're walking on eggshells, that you're being held at the threat of death, which, believe me, is a pointless concern. I shall get what I want all the same."

This last line produced an altogether unexpected effect on Cluster, which sent a cold, perturbing sensation through him.

"Where's—!" He all but leaped up and raised his voice, scowling. "Where's Aurora? And Daisy?" Cluster threw in at once, in a clear and imperious voice; he noticed how utterly quiet the house had become, instantly coming to the conclusion they were the only ones there, and asked his question from both anger and a fear that something terrible had indeed happened to his daughter.

Marble Solid's eyes dilated fleetingly in surprise. "What do you mean?" he said. "They're asleep in their own room right now. They haven't gone anywhere."

For ten whole seconds they were silent. They stared into each other's faces. Then Cluster's scowl disappeared, he almost slumped down with his whole body, having realized that he was in no position to be speaking as he had just done.

"You are correct in assessing that 'Marble Solid' is merely an alias," the visitor went on at length, without concealing the fact that he would not mind being asked whatever question Cluster could come up with. "I go by many names—Woland, Cynric, Arioch; the world is a big place—but my true name is Eidolon."

The light from the lamp flickered.

"Wait a minute," Cluster raised his voice, as if some very strange idea struck him. "Arioch? Eidolon? Those are"— he paused, becoming confused, perhaps at his own miscalculations —"those are all pre-Equestrian names."

"Very well observed," Eidolon picked up with his usual confident frankness.

"Just how old are you?"

"Six thousand years old, more or less. But after the first thousand, who's counting, really?"

"Six th—" Cluster stammered, but then immediately scoffed. "You really expect me to believe that?—that you're older than even Celestia?"

"You will believe it in due time. After all, you're the one who thinks the elixir is in fact an elixir of immortality, correct? I know it, you precisely suspected immortality, and now here you are casting doubt like an eager rationalist."

Outwardly Cluster frowned disagreeably, but inwardly he admitted that he had a point. The only conclusion he reached was that "Eidolon"—if that really was his name—had been listening in on his conversation with Celestia earlier. That, or he was there during the Flying Rift attack. Or both.

Otherwise, how would he know that I was tracking down the elixir, starting from the reports of missing magic?

"But as it so happens, you are wrong," said Eidolon. "The 'elixir' is exactly what it sounds like—a drink with many magical properties, some far beyond your comprehension. But the elixir is not one of immortality."

"I considered that much," replied Cluster slowly. He was trying to keep within the limits of whatever this sudden and inexplicable conversation represented, now then and for the future, without meaning to do anything risky. He looked at Eidolon and felt that things would only get more precipitous from there on. One could see that he was trying to get ahold of his bearings.

"So you considered it," said Eidolon, "but do not be so crass as to think that my presence here is without a purpose that is certain to happen. I know more than you ever will. I am an enemy of Equestria. I may just destroy all of it, or perhaps only half of it, and I can say as a foregone conclusion that you will take part in it, as if it were prophecy foretold."

Cluster was unsure of what to make of that utterly strange declaration. The shadow of confusion was starting to return. But then the tiniest hint of a melancholic haze gleamed in Eidolon's golden eyes.

Is he sad? struck Cluster.

"Technically it does grant immortality," Eidolon went on. "But to be more specific, the elixir is a wish-granting device."

Cluster raised his eyebrows, his lips parted slightly. So that's what it was all about. But if that's true, then...

"That doesn't exist," he replied, considering it appropriate to express disbelief and not to accept this idea right away. "That can't... No, no. Immortality? Sure, maybe. But granting wishes? How can you expect me to believe that?"

"Yet you have heard the word 'elixir' thrown around. What do you suppose that means?"

"I don't know yet."

"But surely you must know something, anything about artifacts and their wish-fulfilling properties. Anything?"

"I said I don't know, but it's obviously not the nonsense you're spouting."

"Cluster, stop and listen," Eidolon suddenly spoke in a much dryer voice, raising his tone to something more expressive; there was in this tone an entreaty which suggested that Cluster was not taking things as seriously as would have been necessary. Cluster was caught off guard by it. "For the time being just assume that I'm telling you the truth, and nothing but the truth; you will get your proof very soon. Just have patience.

"The elixir is indeed that: an all-powerful vessel which, when drunk, shall grant the pony virtually anything their heart desires. Now, is it really so surprising that so many ponies would be filthying themselves up over something so precious? Does it surprise you that even Celestia is taking action?"

"Wait," said Cluster suddenly, "you want my help to track down this wish-granting device, this 'elixir,' right? That's why you're here, that's why you haven't done anything to me yet. Is that it?"

"You certainly know how to embellish your inquires!" chuckled Eidolon, with a sly and haughty reserve that felt oddly suitable to him. "Depending on what happens now, you may enter the fray and fight for the elixir. I would deem you a worthy candidate to join my team."

Team? Cluster frowned. "If this is about you and me, or a group of... other ponies, obtaining immortality, then I want no part of it. Not to mention Celestia would stop you, if that really is what you're after."

But then Eidolon nodded his head, as if approving of Cluster's rebuttal. "And what of your own adventures, so to speak?" he said. "You have come this far on your own, completely ignoring the wise words of your mentor, instead plunging into the game." The smile on his lips turned into a new expression, something bitter yet sympathetic. "I have studied your work for some time now. You have certain... interesting aspects to yourself, very specific things that you may not be aware of, without which you would be incredibly boring. But, really, you must have learned about the true nature of the elixir by now. You write of Celestia's status and what it all means, you argue around it all; and if immortality does not interest you, why do all that you have done?"

"I don't understand..."

"You don't understand? That's fine. You, Cluster, are an obtuse unicorn who cannot even recognize his own happiness. Regardless of its own self-awareness of this fact, a soul instinctively seeks out happiness. This expression of the soul appears in the form of interest or appreciation, thus—having told you the true nature of the elixir, namely that it is a vessel which grants your most fervent desires—it gave away your own interest, which is in and of itself of great importance to me, and was very instructive indeed. The elixir started to interest you more once you realized you could get something else out of it, something other than immortality. But a conscious interest is no more than a mere obsession."

"Maybe I've made an error in judgement then," said Cluster. "It seems that my overly thorough investigations of the elixir have led to your unnecessary speculation about me."

"Then imagine a scenario in which chance and fortune has allowed you to obtain the elixir for yourself. Can you imagine what you would do then? What would you wish for?"

Cluster went silent, obviously taking the question posed to him very seriously. A look of profound pensiveness covered his whole face, so much so that he almost forgot he wasn't alone in the room. It sometimes may happen, especially with these types of characters, where a pony spends so much time in a cynical and pessimistic cycle of thought that once the opportunity for idealistic thinking presents itself, it stuns them into immobility.

Would it be possible, he was thinking, and the more he thought the more his eyes lit up, to bring back... back...?

After nearly a minute, Eidolon spoke up, dragging Cluster's attention back to him.

"Listen, Cluster, isn't it time that you've understood the actual question that I am asking you? The fact that you didn't recognize the futility of you obtaining the elixir, yet you still imagined it, makes the meaning clear: you have a certain desire for the elixir, namely, you have a wish you want granted."

"What?"

"To explain. If I were to ask what you would do if you had obtained an elixir of immortality, you would have rejected the question, deeming it a waste of time, because you do not seek immortality. But for the wish-granting elixir, you wasted your time in pointless thought; you ignored the futility and the waste of effort. You found enjoyment in the exercise. Celebrate, Cluster—you have finally understood what you really want."

Again silence ensued, and again another minute swept by.

Cluster pressed a hoof to his forehead, feeling another bout of stinging. He waited for it to pass.

"Enjoyment? What I really want? Give me a break," said Cluster in a quiet, constrained voice, feeling a sort of irritation press him to his depths but consciously attempting to appear as if he were not irritated in the least. He shook his head dismissively. "Whatever reason you've been stealing other ponies' magic, a pile of corpses have been left behind. You said that many have died. I'd probably get killed, too; and this is in light of the fact that I won't be able to use my magic for another month or so."

"I'll be perfectly frank," said Eidolon. "There are few of us left. That is why this very conversation we are having strikes me as a completely opportune moment." He smiled somewhat disdainfully, apparently not feeling the slightest concern over the so-called pile of corpses. "There are types of ponies who doom themselves by tying themselves up in the affairs of others, and those are not worth fretting over. If you always worry about stepping on ants, you can never walk.

"I possess both the capability and willingness to secure your safety, if that is what bothers you; you would not have to die. But then again, the prospect of death has not yet halted the hearty drive within explorers, warriors, and law-makers, but even enhanced it. Many of these promising souls had believed in the existence of a future life, which served as an anchor against this common fear, which is quite astonishing."

"Future life?"

"Life after death."

"As in... an afterlife?"

"Why yes. Do you suppose a future life—this 'afterlife'—will be granted to you upon your death?"

"Can't say I do."

"Really? No afterlife of any kind? Consider this argument: ghosts, spirits, phantoms—they are fragments of other worlds, the beginning of them. A pony in health has, of course, no reason to see them, because they are above all a pony of this world and is bound for the sake of complete satiety and order to live only in this life. But as soon as they are ill, when their normal worldly order is broken, they begin to realize the possibility of another life. And the more serious the illness, the closer becomes their contact with that other life, so that upon death, they step straight into it."

"No, sorry. I just don't believe in that stuff."

"And what if there are only insects there, or something of that sort?" remarked Eidolon suddenly.

Cluster became confused again, for what felt like the tenth time.

"We always imagine the afterlife as some eternity beyond our conception, something vast and lofty. But why must it be vast? Why lofty? Instead of that, what if it's one little room, like a bathhouse, black and grimy, with insects and spiders in every corner, and you sit there paralyzed, with the insects crawling over you and inside you on repeat forever, and that's all an eternal afterlife is? I sometimes imagine it like so."

Cluster felt a shudder pass through him, likely a reaction to the horridness of Eidolon's words. He was trying to think about the elixir.

"You must believe that I'm seeking my own ends, but there is no need to be so uneasy. You are still speaking to me with perfect casualness, which resembles your own interests. Don't think I haven't noticed. But excuse me, I am just coming to the main point..."

"You mentioned a 'team,' right?" said Cluster suddenly and distinctly. "What's that look like? How does it work?"

"I happen to be leading a team of some very special ponies, hoof-picked by myself. You would have to meet them first."

"Where?"

"Do you know where to find the Castle of the Two Sisters, the old ruins deep within the Everfree Forest?"

Cluster gave Eidolon a distinct and heavy look, not with any traces of confusion like before, but something like sober clarity. Eidolon at once understood that the answer was "yes."

Then Cluster, unable to restrain himself, started firing off, "But how's this all going to work? How did this all start to begin with? What do you want from all this? And how do you know Celestia and the official council, the senates and mages from Canterlot, won't stop you first thing tomorrow morning? How do you know Celestia isn't two minutes away from knocking on my front door in search of you?"

As Cluster went on, Eidolon's face more and more took on an expression of boredom, still with that plain frankness which could not be mistaken for anything else, waiting for Cluster to finish his inquires but with no intention to answer them all point-by-point.

"And what happens if I say no? What if I go to Celestia and tell her where you're hiding? You'd be ruined. I'm guessing I have no choice in the matter, is that it?"

"By all means, go to Celestia and tell her everything I have just told you," Eidolon answered this last set of questions as if there were some special meaning to it all. He suddenly looked less bored.

"But..." Cluster clenched his teeth. "But why would you let me? You're just going to kill me if I try."

"Ah, of all the pitiful... You still don't seem to understand." Eidolon rose from his chair. "You have exactly one week to make your decision. You know where to find me. You are more than welcome, of course, to go to your Celestia in this intervening time. You wouldn't want to underestimate her abilities, now would you?"

"What do you mean?"

"We both very well know that Celestia is on the hunt, both for this elixir and for me, an enemy of Equestria, as I've stated. Don't think that she would overlook the possibility, perhaps even inevitability, of this offer I am making."

"You mean to say that Celestia would suspect me of helping you?"

Eidolon shot him a deadly serious gaze. But then in spite of that he smiled, which gave him an almost menacing look.

"Perhaps. Take my advice: it is sometimes better to engage in mildly suspicious activity in order to throw off suspicion altogether. Don't tell her about the Castle of the Two Sisters, if you should take me up on my offer, but tell her everything else. You have my permission to do that. I can see very clearly that you have an interest in all of this."

Cluster blinked, and was ready to say something in opposition. But then Eidolon continued with a cold familiarity, "Don't you want to become a moral master, as you once proclaimed?"

Cluster did not expect this. Not at all. His face took on a dazed grimace of extraordinary agitation. So he's read those pieces, huh? The muscles under his cheeks twitched. He was still thinking on what to say.

"You have one week," Eidolon repeated, "and no more. Make your decision until then. You may even come to the old ruins in the Everfree, learn what is necessary for you, and still make your decision later. You will learn everything there."

I think I get it now, thought Cluster. Even with so much I still don't know, the promise of any wish I want should prove a strong enough incentive to draw me in. That's probably what he was banking on. Still, I don't know if this elixir is even real to begin with, or if this guy is really six thousand years old like he says he is.

"Cluster?" Daisy's voice came ringing quietly from across the hall, approaching his room.

Shoot. Was I speaking too loud? Cluster glanced at his door.

"Let's meet up soon, shall we?" Eidolon rounded off, then his voice fell to dead silence; the instance Cluster looked back he was gone. He imperceptibly vanished from sight, as if vanishing from thin air. Cluster hardly registered it.

The door opened up, and a concerned-looking Daisy came in.

"Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard you talking."

Cluster stood there, still in his daze, his eyes glassy and distant.

"Daisy," he whispered strangely, looking at her and ignoring her concern, "how's Aurora? Is she sleeping well?"

"Y-yeah, she's fine. She's tucked in. She's..." Daisy paused, now confused. "Uh." She looked around the room for a second. "Was... somepony else in here?"

Then Cluster gave a slight start, as though coming to his senses. He sighed, pushed himself further into his bed, and weakly waved his hoof. "It's nothing," he said. "Was just talking to myself. Sorry I woke you. Goodnight."

"Um, okay then, goodni—"

They were interrupted by the faint cries of an infant from across the hall.

"Oh!" Daisy instantly turned to the entrance. "I guess we woke Aurora up."

"You can go back to bed, let me take care of it," said Cluster, swiftly hopping off his bed and striding down the hall. "It's okay," he said again, waving his hoof.

Daisy stood there for a second as if in doubt, but seeing that Cluster had not waited for her to respond and merely went his way, she nodded her head without a word, and retreated to the room provided for her.

It was a shame that Aurora woke up. She became restless when she did. Cluster picked her up, wrapped in her blanket, went to a corner, and started rocking her soothingly.

He did not get to do this more often, much to his chagrin: in the past month he was constantly out and about, having spent a great deal looking for the causes behind the missing magic, so that Daisy had been the one taking care of her. He was grateful for the mare.

In that moment Cluster was at ease. Aurora was now shifting to the side in his arms, feeling for a comfortable position. She spread her tiny arms, tapping him on his chest. The corners of his mouth twitched, but he did not exactly smile. He stared at the infant in his embrace somewhat sadly, as if something were missing from this scene.

Eventually Aurora fell asleep again. Cluster gently placed her back in her crib, tenderly kissed her, and left the room. And the sad expression on his face remained intact.

Unfortunately he could not catch a single second of rest; even just closing his eyes in an attempt to rest agitated him somewhat. It felt like his daughter's restlessness had passed on to him. Much less could he be bothered to think about his dead father, or his supposedly guilty brother.

He sat on the sofa in the living room, staring at the blackened hearth. He kept thinking everything over.

If Eidolon was here, that means Celestia hasn't found him yet, and she just left Ponyville, so I guess she's behind on the trail. Hmm. The fact that it's taken this long for him to confront me means it wasn't safe to do so till now. Or I wasn't considered "worthy" till now. And with Celestia especially... I'll have to assume that she knows the true nature of the elixir, and whether it really can grant wishes or not. Where did this thing even come from? What's going on? I'll have to write to her as soon as possible.

But for myself to get involved in all this... His face darkened. As if I'd do that.

Author's Note:

Been trying to improve my prose. I think I've made some mild progress.

Also, don't expect the next chapter for a long while now. I just wanted to get the first chapter of part 7 out of the way, since it was mostly finished and just required some rewrites.

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