Scootaloo's mind drifted on the edge of consciousness, occasionally dipping into oblivion only to float back to the twilight between dream and waking. She didn't know where she was, but though her body felt numb, she was surrounded by warmth. She could vaguely tell she was wrapped up in something soft and fluffy, like the warmest, comfiest blanket she had ever slept in. There was no pain, and the deathly cold of that monstrous thing seemed like a hazy nightmare.
"Tougher than you look, huh?" she thought she heard somepony say. For a moment she believed she saw a pair of golden eyes looking into hers. She tried to speak, but her mouth made no sound, and her mind could find no words to utter.
Wherever she was, she felt completely safe. Protected. Content with this, Scootaloo drifted back to sleep.
The next time she opened her eyes, Scootaloo found herself in a bed under a soft blanket. For a few moments she believed she was back in her own bed and that everything had been just a vivid dream. Blinking as her head slowly cleared up, she pulled herself into a sitting position and looked around. She was not in her home – the room was completely unfamiliar to her.
The walls were plain stone masonry with no windows and only one door. The floor was wooden, as was the ceiling, with large exposed beams. There were a few paintings with flower motifs, blossoming trees and mountainous landscapes, but otherwise the room was sparsely furnished. A few lanterns along the walls spread a dim yellow glow that couldn't quite chase the shadows away. Everything looked very old but well-maintained.
The air smelled strange; fragrant yet smokey, like burnt wood mixed with perfumes, thick and heavy and dry. It was a very potent, ever-lingering smell that flooded her mind as she breathed it in, but at the same time she found it soothing. Looking around, she noticed a pot on a nightstand next to the bed. It was filled with sand and had narrow wooden sticks standing on end, burning slowly at the top. Incense, she figured.
While Scootaloo took all of this in, the memories came flooding back. She shivered at the recollection of being chased by the monster, now anything but dreamlike. Realizing how close she'd come to dying made her feel nauseous and she struggled to push that thought away.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled the loss of her scooter. It saddened her, of course, but it was a calm, dull sadness. It seemed strange she wasn't more upset – it had been her most treasured possession, after all. Perhaps she was just too dazed and bewildered to cry over it. At any rate, it was just a thing. It would be difficult to replace, but at least she was still alive.
How did she survive, anyway? She gently moved her body, checking for injuries. Every muscle felt stiff but she appeared to be completely unharmed.
"H-Hello?" she called out, weakly at first, then with a firmer voice. "Hello? Is there anypony here?"
A few heartbeats passed, then the wooden door opened and an unfamiliar pony stepped inside. An earth pony mare; taller than average, slender and beautiful like the models on the magazine covers. Her flowing mane and large, fluffy tail were light blonde, almost white, and her coat was pale gold. Her ears were long and somewhat pointy, and her eyes gleamed like amber in the light. Scootaloo couldn't see the cutie mark clearly from her angle, but it looked to her like a red sun.
"Oh, good, you're awake," the mare said. "You almost had me worried there, child. You've been sleeping for the last three hours."
"Three hours?" Scootaloo scratched her mane in confusion. "What happened to me?"
"A nasty case of frostbite," the mare explained. Her voice was soft and melodic, her tone dry and aloof. "Plus a few scratches and bruises, a mild concussion and a couple of sprains. I was able to heal you up, but you were still pretty exhausted so I just let you sleep it off. You're welcome, by the way."
"Sorry," Scootaloo mumbled, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. "Thank you."
There was a pause. The mare cocked her head. "So? Do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you 'child'?"
"Oh, right. I'm Scootaloo."
"Well, Scootaloo," the mare grinned slightly, "it appears you are both a very unlucky and incredibly fortunate little pony. It's rare for anyone to run across a gaunthound, much less live to tell about it."
"Gaunthound?" Scootaloo frowned. "Is that what that monster was? I've never heard of those before."
"To be honest, I'm not even sure what it was doing in Equestria to begin with," the mare said in a musing tone, gazing into nothing as if in deep thought. "They don't really belong on this plane of reality, you see. They are creatures born from negative dimensions, hunting in the chaos spheres beyond normal space and feeding off wild magic. Normally they wouldn't pay attention to a world like this. It's quite unusual..."
"Wait, hold on," Scootaloo interrupted. "I'm really confused now. Who are you, anyway, and where am I?"
"Ah, yes," the mare said, "I forgot we were still doing introductions. I am Fang, the great sorceress. And this..." she made a sweeping gesture with her hoof. "...is the Rook, my humble home."
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. "You're a sorceress?"
"Yes?" Fang gave her a puzzled look. "Isn't that obvious, seeing as I just saved your life with magic?"
"Well..." Scootaloo hesitated, then shook her head. Best to stay on Fang's good side for now. "Nevermind. So, why did that, uh, gaunthound come after me?"
"That's what I can't figure out," Fang said. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
Scootaloo still didn't want to think too hard about the encounter, but still managed to give an accurate if somewhat laconic account of what had happened from the moment the hound appeared up to the point where she blacked out.
"So," Fang said once she'd finished, "you're telling me that creature just showed up out of nowhere, then actually chased you all the way from your town and into the forest?"
Scootaloo nodded. "Pretty much."
Fang frowned and scratched her chin. "That is really strange."
"Why?" Scootaloo asked.
"Because a gaunthound attacking a single pegasus child doesn't make any sense," Fang said. "It should barely have been able to notice you, much less consider you prey. It's like a tiger hunting a mosquito." She glanced at Scootaloo. "Speaking of which, why didn't you just fly away?"
Scootaloo tensed up. She'd hoped to be able to avoid that question. "...I can't."
"What do you mean, you can't?" Fang raised an eyebrow. "Isn't flying the whole point of your kind? You never learned how?"
"No, I mean I literally can't." Scootaloo hung her head, trying to fight off the bitterness welling up inside her. "I have a condition, okay? It's called Rince Wind Syndrome. We pegasi fly by using our natural magic to lift us up, but my body doesn't produce enough of it. So I can't fly, and there's a good chance I never will."
"Huh?" Fang leaned in, giving the filly a closer look. "And yet you were able to outrun a gaunthound on a scooter. Most adult pegasi wouldn't have been able to pull that off. You are a rather intriguing pony, Scootaloo."
Scootaloo looked up from her pout, seeing the mare look at her with genuine interest. Fang had strange eyes, she realized. The color wasn't unheard of among ponies, but there was something about the way Fang's pupils dilated in the gloom and a sort of focused curiosity in her gaze, like a cat observing potential prey. Scootaloo suddenly wondered what she had gotten herself into, and what this strange pony's true intentions where.
Then her stomach growled loudly, immediately breaking the tension.
"Oh, are you hungry?" Fang asked. "Nevermind, silly question. You're obviously hungry. Won't you join me for dinner?"
"I... don't want to impose," Scootaloo replied, still feeling cautious.
"Nonsense!" Fang said. "You are my guest, after all. Besides, you need to eat if you are to regain your strength. Come along now."
Beckoning Scootaloo to follow her, she turned to the door and a bright saffron glow of magic turned the handle. It seemed she wouldn't take no for an answer, so Scootaloo climbed out of the bed, ignoring the lingering stiffness in her body. In truth, she was pretty hungry.
Beyond the door was a short hallway with stairs leading up in one end and an open archway in the other. Fang closed the door behind them, cutting off the incense before much could escape. The air was much cooler and fresher outside of the room, but still carried a faint scent of candle wax, old paper, strange herbs and dust. Fang led them through the open passage and into a large round room that seemed to be a combination of library, study and workshop.
The place was a wonderful mess: There were bookcases packed full of old, worn tomes. There were tables covered with alchemy equipment, quills and ink bottles, scrolls and more books, some of which had been left open mid-reading. Scootaloo spotted a metronome and an orrery, several clockwork devices with no apparent purpose, and statuettes depicting the strangest creatures. She saw an old blackboard covered in diagrams, formulas and symbols she couldn't read. There were cabinets and chests overflowing with vials, bottles and jars, and strange tools made from old brass and slightly rusted steel. Expensive-looking porcelain vases had been unceremoniously stuffed with even more random trinkets. A pair of broad-bladed bronze swords hung somewhat haphazardly on an improvised rack made from a pair of large antlers, though Scootaloo couldn't tell what sort of animal they had originated from.
Looking past the disarray, she noted a certain theme in the furniture and decor: Many round shapes decorated with geometrical patterns, clashing somewhat with the plain, square stone walls of the building itself. The style made Scootaloo think of those martial arts movies Rainbow had taken her to see on occasion. Turning her head up, she saw that the domed ceiling of the room had been painted to resemble a star map, and imposed upon it were four creatures: A tiger, a turtle, a bird, and a coiling snake-like dragon. The latter reminded her a little of Discord.
Without a word, Fang led them through the room and to another door, once again turning the handle with magic rather than using her hooves. Cautiously eyeing her host, Scootaloo could now tell that Fang's cutie mark was not in fact a sun, but rather a circle of red dots with pointed tails curving outwards. They mostly looked like commas to her eye. She had no clue what the mark was supposed to mean. Maybe Fang was really good at punctuation?
The next room appeared to be a kitchen, marginally tidier than the previous one if only due to having less clutter. Fang gestured to a table by a large fireplace where a stack of dry logs lay unlit among old ashes. "Have a seat. I don't do much cooking myself, but I have a lot of food stored away so I'm sure I can find something."
Scootaloo sat down by the table. She wasn't quite sure what Fang meant by "stored away", but the mare opened a small pantry and stuck her head and hooves into it, her entire upper body disappearing from view. Scootaloo couldn't see what she was doing, but she could hear Fang rummage around inside, humming to herself.
After a few moments Fang pulled her head out. "How about chicken? Everybody likes chicken."
Scootaloo blinked. "...Chicken? As in the bird?"
Fang cocked her head. "There's another kind of chicken?"
"And... you expect me to eat one?" Scootaloo asked, her face involuntarily scrunching up in a grimace at the mere thought.
"Okay. Everybody does not like chicken. Good to know." Fang stuck her head back into the pantry. "I think I have some venison stew in here, if I can remember where I put it..."
"What's venison?" Scootaloo asked, already dreading the answer.
"It's deer meat."
Scootaloo was starting to feel less hungry now. "Um, ponies don't eat meat," she pointed out.
Fang pulled her head out of the pantry and frowned. "...Oh. Right." She nodded slowly. "Herbivores. Silly me. Well, that's fine, I can work with that." She dived back in and the rummaging sounds intensified. "Let's see, carrots, apples... Hey, I've got some tomato soup in here. Do you eat tomato soup?"
"Yeah, that's fine." Scootaloo quietly sighed in relief. At this point, she was happy to eat anything that didn't use to have a face.
Fang retreated from the pantry, bringing along a large tureen along with some plates with bread and cheese, all of which she levitated to the table. As she set it down, she threw a glance at the fireplace and her eyes flashed slightly. The logs suddenly burst into flame, causing Scootaloo to jump in her seat from surprise.
Fang proceeded to lift the tureen lid, revealing it to be full of soup that was somehow steaming hot. She then levitated a pair of bowls, some spoons and knives and a ladle out of the cupboards. Just as she was about to place them on the table, she noticed that Scootaloo was sitting very still, staring at her.
Her eyes narrowing, Fang finished setting the table. "You seem nervous, Scootaloo," she said. "Something on your mind?"
Scootaloo kept looking at her in silence for a moment before answering. "You're not really a pony, are you?"
Fang seemed taken aback by the question, raising an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think that?"
"Well... For starters, you don't seem to really know what ponies eat," Scootaloo replied. "And you've been using words like 'everybody' instead of 'everypony'."
"Oh, is that all?" Fang shrugged. "I just haven't been around other ponies in a long time. I just got back to Equestria after traveling abroad for many years. I must have picked up a lot of local habits and customs along the way."
"I guess that would make sense," Scootaloo admitted, "but I'm pretty sure I saw you transform before, just before I passed out. You were walking on two legs and then suddenly you were walking on four."
"I told you, I'm a sorceress," Fang said. "It's not unheard of for magicians to change form on occasion. And anyway, just because I can shapeshift it doesn't mean I'm not a pony."
"Speaking of magic," Scootaloo carried on, "you've been using spells to levitate stuff, but you're an earth pony, not a unicorn."
"Ah..." Fang suddenly raised her hoof to her forehead, then let it slid down across her eyes. She groaned. "Damn it all, I forgot the horn! I can't believe I missed that."
"And, well..." Scootaloo raised her hoof to point. "Your shadow is acting weird."
Fang turned her head to look at the wall behind her. The shadow she cast from the light of the fireplace was much larger than it should have been, and full of strange shapes that should not have been there.
Almost immediately, the shadow shrunk down and formed a more appropriate silhouette. At the same time, a long horn grew out of Fang's head like a wisp of smoke. She sighed. "Fine, you got me. I'm not a pony. Good grief, I'm really getting sloppy."
"So, if you're not a pony, what are you?" Scootaloo asked. "Some kind of changeling?"
Fang broke into a hearty chuckle. "Oh goodness, no. I'm something much more... exotic than that. Still, I'd like to keep at least some of my secrets for now." She turned serious, but gave Scootaloo a gentle look. "Are you afraid of me?"
Scootaloo frowned, then shook her head. "Not really. I mean, you did save my life. And I guess if you wanted to eat me or whatever, you could have done that while I was knocked out. You're a bit strange, but you don't seem very scary."
Fang grinned. "Brave and sharp. I like that." Sitting down opposite of the pegasus, she levitated the ladle and poured them each a bowlful of soup. "Now, let's eat before we both starve to death."
Scootaloo took the spoon and scooped up some of the hot red soup, blowing on it before putting it in her mouth. It wasn't a dish she was used to, but she was surprised at how good it was. It was just salty enough to bring out the taste of the tomatoes, slightly spicy and with a noticeable hint of garlic. She felt something slightly hard and chewed on it, finding it to be a piece of leek.
A strange feeling came over her, warm and turbulent, like she was happy and sad at the same time. She soon recognized it as the same feeling she got whenever Rainbow would take time off to hang out with her, or when she was around Sweetie and Apple Bloom and remembered how lucky she was to have met them. It seemed strange she would feel that way now, in this strange house with this mysterious creature she just met. But eating with somepony else felt... nice.
Was she really that lonely?
"Fang?" she said quietly.
"Hm?" Fang looked up from her soup, of which she had already devoured several spoonfuls. A few red smudges stained her muzzle.
"I..." Scootaloo drew a deep breath. "Thank you. For saving me, I mean. I know I already said it, but I seriously thought I was going to die back there. So... really, thank you."
It seemed a silly thing to say. Those words didn't even begin to describe what she truly felt.
But Fang just smiled. "Hey, didn't I tell you? You're welcome."
"Yeah." Scootaloo didn't know what else to say, so she went back to eating.
"By the way," Fang said, "are you a boy pony or a girl pony?"
Scootaloo nearly choked on her soup.
The rest of the meal passed without incident and a good mood was quickly established. Fang used her magic to levitate the cheese and bread, and conjured flames to make grilled cheese sandwiches. She was an odd character: Blunt and aloof, but relaxed and playful at the same time. Scootaloo felt comfortable in her company, and what little unease she still harbored melted away.
"So you told me you'd been away for a while," she said. "Why did you come back to Equestria?"
"I'm here for..." Fang paused and seemed to search for the right word. "...let's call it a vacation. I've had a pretty stressful couple of years and I need to recuperate. So I figured I'd set up shop here for a while and do some magical research, maybe get in touch with a couple of old friends."
"That's nice," Scootaloo said. "Do you still know where they live?"
"Oh, they shouldn't be hard to find," Fang chuckled. "The sun is still rising and setting, so I'm guessing Celestia is still calling the shots around here, at least."
Scootaloo's mouth fell open. "You're friends with Princess Celestia?"
"Why yes!" Fang seemed thoroughly amused by the reaction. "We go way back. And I know Princess Cadence too. Is she still around?"
"Yeah," Scootaloo nodded. "Sorta. She's the ruler of the Crystal Empire now, but she sometimes visits Princess Twilight here in Ponyville."
"Princess Twilight?" Fang's eyes widened and she suddenly leaned closer. "Wait, that wouldn't be Princess Twilight Sparkle, by any chance? Purple unicorn, huge nerd?"
"Yeah, but she's an alicorn now," Scootaloo clarified. "You know her too?"
Fang laughed. "Yeah, I know her. We met back in Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns last time I was in Canterlot. Goodness me, I can't believe that little bookworm actually became an alicorn princess! So you're saying not only has the Crystal Empire returned, but there's now three alicorns around?"
"Four," Scootaloo said. "Princess Luna came back a while ago."
"Luna's back?" Fang grinned widely. "This just keeps getting better and better."
"Actually, make that five alicorns," Scootaloo corrected. "I almost forgot about Princess Flurry Heart. She's Cadence's baby."
Fang's stopped grinning, looking confused instead. "Hold on. The baby turned into an alicorn?"
"Nah, she was born that way," Scootaloo said. "At least, that's what I heard. I think she nearly blew up the Crystal Empire or something, but apparently they've got her under control now."
Fang turned silent for a moment. "...Well, I'll be damned. Now I wish I came back sooner. Sounds like I missed out on some pretty interesting times."
"Yeah, these last couple of years have been really crazy, now that I think about it," Scootaloo mused.
It didn't take much longer to finish the meal, and once the food had been depleted Scootaloo put her spoon down with a content sigh. "Thanks for the soup and the sandwiches. It was delicious."
"So, how are you feeling now?" Fang asked.
"I feel fine," Scootaloo said, but then wobbled slightly when she stood up from the table. "Um, a bit drowsy, I guess, and my legs feel a bit weak."
"Hm?" Fang gave her a critical look. "Your vitality should be fully restored by now. It may just be that you ate too much, but perhaps I should measure your thaumatic spectrum just to be safe."
Scootaloo frowned. "Yeah, I have no idea what you just said."
"It means I check your magic signature for irregularities," Fang explained. "I'm certain your body is completely healthy, but gaunthounds are powerful mystic creatures and it's possible it did some metaphysical damage as well."
"Metaphysical...?" Scootaloo felt a spike of icy dread through her heart when she pieced together what Fang was saying. "Are you telling me it might have hurt my magic?"
Fang shrugged. "Like I said, it may be nothing. To be honest I don't exactly know how pony magic reacts to them. But at least in theory..."
"Let's do it!"
Fang led Scootaloo into another large chamber – this one was some sort of laboratory and looked more serious than the study. The center of the room was dominated by a device that looked like an octagonal bronze pillar with the top angled down at chest height, presenting what seemed to be a control panel. It had a big glass lens in the middle and was covered in glowing buttons, dials and levers sticking out.
Along the walls were a few tables and lockers, but most of the space was occupied by other machines of various designs, all of which looked incomprehensible to Scootaloo. The only thing she could compare it to was the equally baffling scientific equipment she had seen at Twilight's place. She recalled that Twilight had supposedly met Fang as a filly, and she briefly wondered if that had something to do with how the young princess had turned out.
Ignoring the centerpiece, Fang approached one of the larger machines. It was mostly just a big metal box covered in blinking lights and buttons, but it was also coupled to a platform with an intricate star-shaped seal drawn on it. "Alright, let's do some mad science!"
Scootaloo hesitated. "Um..."
"That was a joke." Fang pointed at the platform. "Just sit down here, this won't take long."
Scootaloo swallowed. She was not a filly who would easily admit to being scared, but for the second time that day she was utterly terrified. What if the machine said she was even more magically crippled than before? She absolutely couldn't afford that. It wouldn't be fair. Part of her wondered if it would be better to go on not knowing, but she realized thinking about it would just drive her crazy. Better to find out for sure. Trying to keep her legs from shaking, she stepped unto the platform and sat down at the center. "Okay, now what?"
"Now I'm going to scan your magical aura," Fang said. "This might tickle a bit, but it won't hurt you." She flipped a switch and pushed a few buttons on the machine, causing it to start humming. The seal underneath Scootaloo started to glow faintly white, and she felt a prickling sensation across her entire body. It was mildly uncomfortable, but nothing she couldn't put up with.
After a short while, the machine went bing and spat out a long piece of paper from a slot. Fang tore the paper off and looked at it, mumbling as she read: "Theta spectrum general value twenty five, stable. Cardinal pathway resonance negative zero error? Peak magnitude negative ten by the power of five error?" She looked up from the readings with a puzzled expression. "Well, that can't possibly be right."
"What does that mean?" Scootaloo asked.
"Nothing, it's complete nonsense." Fang tossed the paper aside and started pushing buttons. "The machine clearly isn't reading you correctly, I need to calibrate it. Stay put and don't worry about it."
Scootaloo did as told, though the whole thing was starting to make her nervous. Fang turned a dial on the machine all the way around. It started to hum louder and the prickling feeling grew more intense. Scootaloo shivered but forced herself to stay calm.
All of a sudden the seal blazed in a bright purple light, sparks dancing along the rim. Fang jerked back as every single light on the machine exploded at once. The next moment, the seal went dark and the machine was silenced. Black smoke started to seep out of it.
"Um, whoops?" Fang said. She lit a spell with her horn, spraying the machine with a cold stream of gas. "That wasn't supposed to happen. Are you okay, Scootaloo?"
"I-I'm fine, I think," Scootaloo stammered. The event had spooked her, but she seemed unharmed. "What was that?"
"Aaah..." Fang glanced at her, then the machine. "Old piece of junk must have short-circuited or something. Guess this was a bust."
Scootaloo stepped off the platform with slightly shaky knees. "So, now what?"
"We'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way." Fang opened a nearby locker and started digging around inside. "I think I put it somewhere... Aha! Here it is."
She pulled out a cylindrical brass device about the size of a lunchbox, with a dial and a few buttons on the side. Pushing a button caused hatches to open in both ends – a short telescopic lens folded out from one side and a small round monitor appeared from the other.
Scootaloo gave the object a dubious look. It mostly resembled a cross between a bizarre camera and an oversized spyglass. "What's that?"
"This is a thaumascope," Fang replied. "A bit more primitive than the spectral scanner but it should give me a good look at your aura and at least it won't explode on me. Hold still, please." She pointed the device at Scootaloo and looked into the monitor while the lens adjusted itself with a whirring sound.
Scootaloo fidgeted, waiting for the verdict. Fang remained silent for a moment, but her eyes narrowed. "..Huh."
"What?" Scootaloo asked.
Fang didn't answer. After another brief pause she abruptly folded the thaumascope back in on itself. "Well, at any rate, it doesn't seem the gaunthound did any damage to your magic."
"R-Really?" Scootaloo felt a wave of relief wash over her.
"Really," Fang nodded. "I can practically guarantee that your magic is no weaker now than it was before the attack."
"Thank goodness!" Scootaloo sighed. "I was really worried for a while there."
Fang chuckled and placed the thaumascope on a nearby table. Giving Scootaloo a glance from the corner of her eye, she asked: "So what will you do now?"
Scootaloo recalled that she had been unconscious for three hours. Factoring in the time she had spent in Fang's company since... "Well, it must be getting pretty late, and I have school tomorrow so I probably shouldn't stay up much longer."
"You're welcome to stay the night if you want," Fang said. "I have several guest rooms."
Scootaloo felt tempted to accept the offer, but hesitated. The accident with the scanner had put her on edge, and her previous unease returned. Fang was still a stranger to her - she didn't even know what this sorceress really was, much less who she was. Scootaloo's eyes wandered across the cold scientific equipment and realized that ever since the subject of her magic came up, Fang seemed to have taken an interest in her. And somehow Scootaloo knew there was something Fang wasn't telling her.
"Ah, thanks," she said, "but I should really be getting home."
Fang looked a bit disappointed, but nodded. "Yes, of course. What was I thinking? Your parents must be worried sick about you."
"Y-Yeah," Scootaloo mumbled, looking away.
"Well, at least let me escort you home," Fang said. "Make sure you get there without any hassle. You do seem to have a certain talent for getting into trouble."
"Oh, you don't need to do that!" Scootaloo said, perhaps a little too fast. "I mean, I know the way and I'm sure you have important magic stuff to do..."
"Nonsense, I insist." Fang walked over to the pillar-like machine at the center of the room. "Ponyville, correct?"
"Um, yeah?" Scootaloo wasn't sure what she meant by that.
Fang twisted two of the dials and pulled a lever. A very faint shudder seemed to run through the entire building. Fang headed towards the door. "There we go. Come along, Scootaloo. Let's get you home."
Scootaloo followed her, still trying to think of a way to avoid having Fang follow her all the way to the house. Perhaps she could convince her to turn back once they reached town? But when Fang opened the door and stepped through, Scootaloo's plans came to a sudden halt. She stopped at the threshold and stared.
The hallway on the other side was gone, replaced by what seemed to be a Ponyville street.
Fang looked over her shoulder and grinned. "Are you coming?"
Still not quite believing what she was seeing, Scootaloo stepped outside. She knew this neighborhood: They were just behind Quills and Sofas. Turning around, she saw the doorway leading back to Fang's laboratory through a wall she was sure wasn't supposed to have a door. A moment later it closed behind her on its own.
Fang looked up at the great tree-shaped crystal palace towering over the town. "I'm guessing that's where Twilight lives these days?" She chuckled. "I know you ponies like putting your cutie marks on everything, but that's a bit excessive, don't you think?"
Scootaloo wasn't really listening, still trying to figure out what just happened. "Wait, how did we get here?"
"My tower's position in local space is a bit subjective," Fang said. "It's how I travel most of the time. It can appear anywhere I want, and I can arrange the doors so they lead to different places if they're relatively nearby. I don't know exactly where you live, though, so I just opened that one at the town center. You'll have to show the way from here."
"Oh. Okay." Too dazed to protest, Scootaloo started walking.
It seemed it was even later than she had estimated – the sun had retreated and evening was steadily approaching night. Fortunately, the storm from earlier had already been cleared away by the weather team, leaving only damp streets and a slightly overcast sky. Scootaloo led them down the streets in the direction of her house, resigned to the fact that she would not be able to ditch Fang. A cold wind blew past and caused her to shiver.
"Fang?" she said. "Do... Do you think the gaunthound is still around?"
"Hm?" Fang shook her head. "No, I wouldn't worry about that. The fact that one appeared at all was astronomically unlikely, and I shot it up with enough magic to give it a serious heartburn. It won't be back. Besides, I'll be monitoring the area from now on. If it does show up again, I'll know about it."
"Oh. Good," Scootaloo said. At least that was a silver lining. "Well, in that case, don't you think I'll be fine from here?"
"True," Fang said, "but I should at least help you explain to your family where you've been these past few hours. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with them on top of everything else."
"I seriously doubt that," Scootaloo tried. "They're very... understanding."
"That's nice," Fang said, showing absolutely no sign of having changed her mind on the issue.
Scootaloo suppressed a sigh. She could already see the facade of her house – they had reached it far too soon for her liking. Her home was not too different than any of the other ponyville residences. It had the same thatched roof and the same pastel painted walls. It was a bit smaller than average, though, and the two pillars by the front door suggested an influence of traditional pegasus architecture. A purple picket fence surrounded a lawn and garden that had gone unattended for a long time. The house stood silent at the end of the street, and the windows were dark.
"Well, here we are," Scootaloo said, stopping by the fence and wishing one last time Fang would just turn and leave.
Fang simply stood there and looked at the house for a moment. She had a half puzzled, half critical look on her face, as if she had expected something different. "This is where you live?"
"Yep, home sweet home!" Scootaloo forced a smile.
"I see." Fang suddenly walked up to the front door and pulled it open.
"Wha- Hey! Hold on a minute!" Scootaloo tried to protest, but Fang had already entered.
"Hello?" the sorceress shouted, looking around the entryway. "I brought your kid back! Anypony home?"
Scootaloo followed her inside with a hanging head and dragging hooves. Everything was falling apart. "...There's nopony here."
"What do you mean?" Fang asked. "Where are your parents?"
"They're... not here," Scootaloo mumbled.
Fang rolled her eyes. "Yes, we've established that. I'm asking where they are."
Scootaloo ground her teeth, her patience finally wearing thin. "I don't have any parents, okay? I'm an orphan. My mom and dad are dead."
Fang blinked and stared at her. "What? Both of them?"
"Yes! Both of them!" Scootaloo snapped. "That's what being an orphan means!"
Fang frowned. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"
"Because it's kinda private and I don't like talking about it," Scootaloo said, hoping the sharp emphasis would be enough for Fang to finally get the hint.
If she did, Fang didn't show it. She just went back to pacing around the room, inspecting at the walls and furniture with the same critical look. "Still, there has to be somebody around who's taking care of you."
"There's Mr Warden," Scootaloo muttered. "He checks in on me once in a while, makes sure I'm not sick and have food and stuff. Most of the time it's just me, though."
Fang stopped pacing. "You can't be serious. How old are you, eight?"
"I'm twelve," Scootaloo growled.
"And you're telling me they're just letting you live here alone? In this house?" Fang wrinkled her muzzle, as if she'd smelled something unpleasant. "I thought you ponies were supposed to care about each other."
Her words stuck Scootaloo like a knife. Anger started welling out like blood from an open wound. "Hey! I don't need anypony to look after me! I've managed just fine so far and I can take care of myself!"
Fang let out a snort. "Except for today, you mean?"
"Arrgh!" Scootaloo stomped her hoof in frustration. She'd had enough of this. "I think it's time for you to leave!"
The outburst actually made Fang jerk back slightly in surprise, her eyes widening. "...You're kicking me out?"
"I suppose I am," Scootaloo huffed, raising her face in defiance. "'Cause this is my house and I want to be alone now."
For a moment they just stood there, looking at each other – Fang in mild bewilderment, Scootaloo glaring angrily, a tense silence between them.
Then Fang shrugged. "Very well, if that's how you feel." She turned around and lit her horn, her magic glow turning the handle of the door. She didn't look back as she left. "It was nice meeting you, Scootaloo. While it lasted, anyway."
Her words were calm and measured, with none of the condescending edge Scootaloo had come to expect from adults she talked back to. She didn't slam the door behind her, but the sound of it closing still seemed to echo throughout the house. It was the hard, definitive sound of something ending.
Scootaloo remained standing in the same spot for a moment, still fuming. Then she drew a deep breath, trying to calm down a bit, and turned around. Without really thinking about it she wandered into the kitchen, but then remembered she had already eaten earlier. The break from her normal routines threw her off a little, and suddenly she wasn't sure what to do. She supposed she might as well retreat to her room, maybe read something before going to bed.
Her room. It occurred to her how absurd it was to call it that. Every room in the house was 'her room', really. The one she called her own was just the place where she kept her stuff, and somewhere she could shut the door behind her to keep the rest of the emptiness out.
Too many rooms. It was a small house, but it was still too large for her, plain and simple. The rage that had burned inside her just a minute ago quickly faded away, and then she felt the emptiness all around her – cloying, crushing. She was drowning in it. The silence hurt her ears.
Before she knew it, she had turned on her hoofs and galloped back to the entryway. Maybe it wasn't too late? She threw the door wide open and...
Fang was gone. Ponyville lay silent in the early autumn evening. Standing there in the doorway, Scootaloo felt a breeze blow across her face, chilly and moist from the previous storm.
At the base of the doorsteps, leaning against one of the white stone pillars, stood her scooter.
Dumbfounded, Scootaloo walked down the steps and slowly reached out to it, as if fearing it was some kind of trick and would vanish in a puff of smoke. But it was solid to the touch. It was real. There was no sign of damage from when the gaunthound trampled it. In fact, it looked pristine. Even the old scruffs and scratches it had accumulated over the years were gone. Her helmet was there as well, resting on the deck, as good as new.
Scootaloo bit her lips and felt her eyes stinging. What exactly had her plan been, anyway? Beg Fang to stay, after blowing up on her like that? Apologize for yelling and asking if spending the night in her magic tower was still on the table? Everything was so confusing. Fang was rude and nosy and insensitive and apparently didn't grasp the concept of privacy at all. So why did Scootaloo feel bad about her leaving? Was she just desperate for company? Could they have been... friends?
Scootaloo sighed. Not anymore, she wagered. After all that, she doubted Fang would want to see her again. Anyway, why should she care? She had friends. She had Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom, and she had Rainbow Dash. She even got along with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon these days, for crying out loud. What more could she want? She didn't need Fang.
Scootaloo retreated into her home, taking her scooter and helmet with her. The house at the end of the street lay dark and silent like a tomb.
Scootaloo didn't sleep well that night. Though she had managed to avoid thinking about the gaunthound attack up to that point, it seemed she couldn't close her eyes without seeing its unearthly blue glare in the darkness and that terrible maw snapping after her. As soon as she managed to drift off into an uneasy slumber, she would wake up in a jolt of panic, convinced she'd heard the distant echo of its shriek or sound of clawed talons pacing just beyond her walls.
The third time it happened, she just sat up in her bed with her blanket around her shoulders and struggled to calm herself down. It didn't seem Luna would pay her a visit this night. Perhaps Scootaloo just couldn't sleep long enough for the night princess to notice.
There was a full moon out that night. The silvery light shone through Scootaloo's window and illuminated her sparse possessions adorning the room. A few posters and flags, some old toys she had outgrown but kept around for sentimental value, a picture of Rainbow Dash. They gave her comfort and made at least that one corner of the house feel something like a home, but they did not make it seem safer.
Her thoughts returned to Fang, but her feelings were still confused. In retrospect she should probably have been more forgiving, out of gratitude to Fang for saving her if nothing else. But the fact remained that she knew nothing about the sorceress, and she couldn't shake the feeling that Fang hadn't told her the whole truth about her magic. The only thing Scootaloo had really learned was that Fang was not a pony, that she had been away from Equestria for a long time, and that she was apparently friends with the princesses.
Then it occurred to Scootaloo: Twilight Sparkle was a great magician too, and really smart. Not to mention, she was used to dealing with monsters and weird things like that. Talking to her would probably be a good idea. She definitely ought to know a dangerous monster had shown up in Ponyville, at any rate, and Scootaloo could ask her about Fang while she was at it.
Yes, Twilight would know what to do. Scootaloo decided to go see her the next day first thing after school. Somehow, having a plan made her feel more at ease, so she lay back down and tried to push all other thoughts away. Eventually, she managed to fall asleep.
OC, Scootadopt, Mysterious Past, Fang?
I'll pass.... Er wait.
It's Fervidor.
Hell with it, I'll give it a go.
--Curious Spade
It should be interesting to see what Twilight has to say!
Oh, and:
The writing's generally pretty good. I just happened to notice that one sentence...
--Sweetie Belle
8659843
You know you can't go wrong with Fervidor.
8659877
I was almost positive I'd caught all the errors this time. Oh well.
Thanks!
8659976
No problem!
This seems like the type of error that might have come about when fixing another error or doing some revising. Changes after you've proofread are the easiest to miss mistakes in!
--Sweetie Belle
Now this is some top quality pony waifu right there.
8660342
I aim to please.
Your story was just added my group Magical Familiars, we always need more stories that can fit into the group, and as such I thank you for your love of magicly entwined beings.
Okay, so at this point I am REALLY interested in Fang as a character. I'll be following this story now. Good work; keep it up!
8660603
It's not an especially common theme these days, is it?
8660801
Thanks, I'm glad you find her interesting.
8660984
Thanks.
8660982
I also consider impending doom to be cool. Scary, but cool. Awesome in the old meaning of the word.
8660844
Famous last words right there.
"Also, the doctors said I'd probably save the world by accident a few times. And that I should be careful around orangutans."
I take it Professor Fang will be welcoming Scootaloo to the wondrous world of Ponymon?
In all seriousness, very intriguing start indeed, especially the tease about Scootaloo's magic. I'm not normally into Orphanloo stories, but between this opening and the hype, I'm more than willing to give this a try. Eagerly looking forward to more.
8661145
Thanks. Like I said, I have a bit of a conflicting relationship with them, but as usual the story takes priority over my personal opinions on the matter. Anyway, I hope it won't disappoint.
Yeah, I'm really liking Fang so far. Can't wait to see what adventures she and Scootaloo are going to get themselves into!
And by the way, that line about her forgetting her horn actually made me laugh. When I first took a look at the cover image, I didn't see the horn at first for some reason. But then I read that line and I looked back and there it was.
So either I just missed it on the first viewing, or something weird is going on with my life...
I don't know your work, but I definitely enjoyed the first two chapters of this story. I hope you post more soon!
I don't really buy into the Orphanloo fanon either, but I've seen it done well a good number of times too, and this fic's certainly got my attention, so let's see where it goes next.
Hm. I suppose that explains why she gets such good horizontal speed. Perfect for running away from the inevitable monsters, villains and disasters that will inevitably try to make your life terminally interesting!
All right, this is off to a promising start. Fang had a lot of typical "Mary Sue" traits, I did notice that while reading, but on the whole I feel she works as a character. Good execution can make all concepts work.
Looking forward to more!
Great now I want to play Guild Wars...
... Aaaaand I laughed way harder at this than I should have,
8659843 My thoughts almost exactly.
"It's called Rince Wind Syndrome." -- Yes, she can't fly, but she can run like *anything*
8662217
I had the exact same thought, but I couldn't think of a witty way of wording it.
8661807
It's kinda hard to write powerful, accomplished characters who don't, is the thing.
I don't even consider it to be a matter of "traits", really. It's just that people want an easy, immediate way to spot a problem, so they just focus on symptoms rather than looking at the big picture.
8662097
Always make sure to have a fire extinguishing spell memorized in case of emergency.
8661376
8661804
Thanks, glad you're liking it so far.
8662217
8662641
Obvious reference, I know, but I couldn't help myself.
8662652
I get what you mean. As I understand it, the "Mary Sue" phenomenon mostly originated as a result of certain patterns emerging in fanfiction way in the early days of fandom, where an association sprung up between writers using characters with certain traits (usually, they were self-inserts, were named after specific patterns varying from fandom to fandom, belonged to whatever species or organization was considered special in the work of origin, etcetera etcetera. The laundry list varies between fandoms) and various issues with bad writing (shallow and poorly developed ocs who were given every trait that made other characters special for no real reason, ooc behavior on the part of the canon characters, badly developed plots, poor to nonexistent respect for canon lore, setting, characters etc., and so on). So an association developed between those traits and the bad writing. The issue is, I would say, was that people started focusing on those traits alone rather than on the actual bad writing, so people started throwing about the label "Mary Sue" every time they spotted one of those traits and, as you said, focused on the shallow details rather than paying attention to the more important stuff going on.
I think the most obvious way this happens in the MLP fandom is with the all-too-common knee-jerk hatred towards alicorn ocs. I've heard a lot of reasons and justifications for this, and none ever really convinced me. There's the argument that they're too powerful and you can't write plots that challenge them, which is nonsense. People have written books about literal gods without running into this issue, and even then there are plenty of problems you can't clobber your way out of with brute force. Or the idea that alicorn ocs are bad because it's conceited to portray yourself as something the show presents as paragons of perfection who have achieved their fullest potential, which is even worse nonsense which makes the huge and unfunded assumption the oc in question is perforce a self-insert and anyway ignores the show has consistently portrayed its alicorns as being just as fallible and capable of growing as anyone else.
Or, heh, remember all the drama when Tempest Shadow's design was released and half the fandom decided they knew all they needed about her and that she was going to to be an awful character because she had a black-and-red color scheme and a broken horn? And now she's one of the movie's most popular characters, because she was very well-written and well-portrayed, and that turns out to not be something her character model's colors affect much at all.
To get back to your actual fanfic and characters, what I meant to say (and what I guess I should have actually said) was that Fang does indeed have a number of traits that people have come to associate with Mary Sues, for all that that term has been used, reused and abused into meaninglessness by now. "Edgy" name, really powerful sorceress, is friends with important characters, probably a human, made her entrance effortlessly saving a canon character from a massive threat they couldn't themselves have done anything about, she knows all sorts of stuff canon characters are not seemingly privy to, etcetera. Those are things people have come to associate with bad character writing. Now, those aren't issues here in this story -- Scootaloo couldn't reasonably have saved herself from the wolf thing whose name escapes me anymore than she could have from a dragon or maulwurf or tatzelwurm, for instance, and given Fang's evident profession and lifestyle it's perfectly reasonable that she knows what she does -- but the associations remain.
Now, traits aside, I liked what I saw of Fang and the story you're writing in these two chapters. The writing has been good, and I while I can't give you any meaningful analysis of Fang until I've seen some more of her (because, you know, just two chapters and all), she seems an interesting and likable character whose development and eventual struggles I could develop some genuine interest in, with some more exposure. Like I said before -- I'm eagerly looking forward to more!
8663304
You're mostly right, which is refreshing.
Though, I would define Mary Sues specifically as proxy characters that the author uses for personal escapism. That in itself would not be too bad, except the authors who do this tend to suffer from low self-esteem and associated issues. I've known a few of them, and they were usually pretty broken people, so I think I've come to understand the general psychology.
Basically, they use their characters as a kind of coping mechanism, providing those characters the gratification and vindication they feel they are owed. This tends to warp the entire narrative into something that is distinctly not meant to tell good stories or entertain others. This is also why those authors tend to be extremely sensitive about their characters. These problems are usually exacerbated by the severity of the writer's neurosis.
If anything it's more accurate to say that Mary Sue is a problem with the writer, not so much a problem with the character.
The "traits" are just symptoms, and aesthetics that this type of personality generally tends to find appealing.
Pretty much. Worst thing is, many label perfectly decent characters as Mary Sues as basically a knee-jerk reaction, and conclude that this makes them bad arbitrarily without really considering if the character works in context.
I personally think those people are a bigger problem when the ones who actually write real Mary Sues. The latter is unhealthy and kinda sad, but the former is actually damaging to reading and writing in general.
Nevermind that she was the main antagonist. I don't even think antagonists really can be Mary Sues - it's sort of inherently a protagonist thing.
You know, originally I was just going for something similar to Howl, as in Howl's Moving Castle. The name has taken on a bit of a different meaning since then, however.
Though IRL ones do if they can get it.
8663766
For ponies, I generally presume it's more a cultural thing than a biological one.
8663775
Eh. Maybe. Still doesn't explain why they raise pigs and some go fishing.
8663936
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/BellisariosMaxim
8665013
Well, still it's cool no less. I bet creators of Witcher universe get inspiration somewhere else too. Speaking of which, did thought of this on your own or base on something? (If it is not a secret)
8665039
Well, all stories are influenced by something, and good stories will take influence from many things.
This one was mainly inspired by Howl's Moving Castle and The Sword in the Stone, though it's also has a lot of Doctor Who and general anime influences as well. As for the gaunthound specifically, it was inspired by The Hounds of Tindalos by Frank Belknap Long.
Not really. Usually Mary Sue have weak character, loved by anyone else and never made mistakes. And Fang has a distinguished character traits (somewhat Doctor Who alike, but not just copy cat), Scootaloo had fight with her and Fang blow her cover to twelve year old filly. Only one thing she is lacking a purpose.(what and why she doing in her live.)
But I get a feeling we get to that in next chapters.
8665118
Yeah, I was joking, pretty much. That and I figured someone would call her a Sue sooner or later, so I might as well show that I'm self-conscious about what I'm doing here.
8665121
That worked. Someone (me) started defend her before such comments.
8665272
There really aren't a lot Trust me I looked but here https://www.fimfiction.net/group/212995/magical-familiars If you can think of a way to encourage more familiar realated storyes tell me, I relly cant do a rwighting prompt with only eight members.
8665428
Sure I'll make a thread announcing it latter today.
But, isn't Fang a boy's name?
8665999
Is it, now?
Ooooh, I'm liking this a lot already. Looking forward to the next part!
8669644
Glad you like it. Next part should be along the day after tomorrow.
8665999
8666076
Surnames aren't usually gender-specific.
And neither are fangs.
derpicdn.net/img/2017/12/17/1609776/medium.png
--Sweetie Belle
I'm getting intrigued by Fang's background... She holds more secrets than the Dark Angels Inner Circle....
8681562
Fang = Cypher?
No wonder Scoots has terrible luck yet can survive situations that should kill her, with a syndrome like that!
8662217
Pretty much.
Professor oak moment.
and imposed upon it where four creatures
lets call it a vacation
1. Were.
2. Let's.
If Scoots has Rince Wind Syndrome, it just makes her even more of a Mary Sue than just being physically disabled. It means that, unlike other orphans, her mother ran away before she was born . Still, it's no wonder Scootaloo gave off the errors she did with the magical testing hoodicky!...she probably didn't need to worry about the gaunthound either, because she likely has the capability to survive just about anything the universe (or other universes) can throw at her.
Fang reads like she's a bit flighty...but she definitely doesn't actually come off that way. I more get the impression of somebody who can afford to let her mind wander and forget stuff like having a horn when in disguise or that ponies don't eat meat because she's both observant and powerful enough to cover up for any flight of fancy she has in the moment. I can't blame her for not realising Scootaloo was an orphan though, considering our favorite filly chicken is (outside of her lack of wingpower) fairly well-rounded. It's not like she has 'woe is me, I am an orphan' beacon or anything!
Seeing Fang's Cutie mark visualised as well as the brief mention of the ceiling painting of the Four Symbols of multiple Oriental cultures makes me think she is probably some sort of mythical Japanese creature. After all, those 'comma shapes', particularly in that ring-like orientation, are probably magatama, and I think they were often arranged in a necklace-like fashion.
(Don't feel too bad if I seem to deduce things way too easily. After reading lots of fiction and coming up with off-the-cuff ideas for my own, I can usually spot most plot threads )
8905418
Well, you're not entirely wrong. See, the Fang I ended up writing is sorta slightly different from the Fang I planned to write: I originally envisioned her as arrogant and cocky, but also cheerful and lighthearted, with a bit of a devil-may-care attitude and a tendency to joke around, the type who just brushes stuff off and doesn't sweat the small stuff. There are still elements of that in her character but she quickly evolved into a more serious and collected character, more calculating. These things happen.
To be honest, she was uncharacteristically careless in that scene. My justification is that driving off the gaunthound took more out of her than she is letting on, and she's actually a bit loopy at that point.
I can't help but feel like fang has a slight Brittish accent
8905785
That kind of sounds like Willy Wonka from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
9385629
Not quite who I had in mind, but I suppose he could be seen as a sort of trickster mentor type of character.