Obfuscating
The girl's personal library had been built from the castoffs of a thousand shelves, where the only choice was in what she took from the boxes and sometimes, there wasn't even that. (One shipment had stood out: a hundred copies of the same remaindered book. The cover had claimed there were more shades of grey than the human eye could ever hope to distinguish. None of the fillies had been allowed to glance at the interior pages, but the fuel for the next month's fires suggested that there was still one central means of creating boredom.) But there were small chances to decide what she didn't want to pursue, and so she'd never been much for horror. There didn't seem to be much need to explore those whose lives became waking nightmare.
She would die in the gap -- long after she was made to breed with a stallion who was incapable of loving her.
She had been brought into the world out of pure biological necessity. A living gear, so that a civilization could continue to turn in place.
Place that against things like psychic children or eldritch abominations from beyond space and time, and the girl's usual reaction was to close the book. Any writer who truly wanted to understand horror from the inside was welcome to take her place for a decade or two. Horror was the familiar, accompanied by the knowledge that no part of it would ever change.
Cerea had never been much for the genre as a whole. (Rachnera indulged rather frequently, and often seemed to treat the books as a How To guide.) But she still felt that she had a few of the basic rules down, at least to the point where the household could watch a movie together and she wouldn't be the last to recognize when the protagonists were inevitably about to turn into idiots. If the source of the scare had been nothing more than a cat, then there was either something major coming up behind it or the cat was about to go through a few changes. A bare branch set to rapping on a closed window, pushed by nothing more than the wind -- well, that glass wasn't long for this world, or the sound would cover up whatever was coming in through another part of the house...
It had reached the point where Papi had started to call off plot 'twists' in advance, and that was coming from a girl who could take three steps towards the kitchen and potentially forget which movie they'd been watching.
They... had watched the movies together. Sometimes they did so after their host had already gone to bed. It was -- something they could all do --
-- the centaur usually thought of horror as the familiar: the same trails, the same faces, and that house in the gap which was only occupied by mares of breeding age. Living together for a few months, in order to -- synchronize. But she'd skimmed the genre, and felt she understood a few of the deeper concepts. And one of those was grotesquerie. The idea that you could see something which came across as a perfectly ordinary part of the world -- until you got a little closer. Looked deeper. Touched supple skin and felt your finger descend into rot, as the corpse continued to smile.
And if it hadn't been for centaur senses, that would have been the clearing.
To sight... it started out as nothing more than a partial gap in the forest: one of those little breaks you could get in even the thickest of natural greenery. There were only a few trees, with branches both sparse and bare. The ground was oddly uneven: little hills of rock half-thrust out of oddly dry soil, with a few of the dividing valleys deep enough to potentially trap an unwary hoof. About twenty meters across at the widest point, perhaps eight at the far end, just before it truly started to pinch back into the thin road --
-- no: 'road' was overstating it. There was a trail: one which didn't see enough use to keep it fully clear. Use Moon's light to stare into the encroaching darkness on the other side, and make out trees with somewhat thicker trunks. Roots bulged from the earth, set up tripping hazards for those on hoof while testing the shock absorbers for any wheeled conveyance at least three times per rotation. (When it came to carts, Cerea wasn't sure the ponies had gotten very far with the concept of 'shocks'.) Branches thrust themselves into that false corridor, pointed wood tips looking to snag or scrape anything they could reach.
And to some degree, that was normal. It was a forest in a world which was approaching winter. Chill air was a reasonable expectation. Level ground became a luxury. Without evergreens, living vegetation was too much to expect. Any horror found within that environment was generally located in the mind of the observer.
Except...
...Moon shone down, kept the girl's senses in overdrive. It allowed her to recognize that she shouldn't have been seeing so much of the ground. Leaves fell in autumn, were carried by the wind's currents. The valleys so suitable for catching limbs were also perfect for sheltering a quantity of long-term mulch. But there were no leaves. No tufts of brown grass, waiting for spring to renew all. Bare ground, pebbles, rocks...
The pebbles had points. Some of them looked sharp. Portions of the exposed rock seemed to be approaching serration. Keratin might be scraped on contact, possibly notched, and... every hoof had its vulnerable frog lurking near the center. And for those half-seen boulders... rain and wind tended to smooth minerals over time, created gentle curves. This was angles and protrusions and edge.
Bare branches often looked somewhat twisted. These seemed to have an invisible hand pulling on the wood. There was an unnatural curve, something where the bark had broken rather than follow suit. And if you glanced away, and then looked back...
The warping of the wood wasn't a constant. Sometimes it increased. She never managed to catch it in the process of moving.
There was something strange about the atmosphere, and -- even when moon-touched, that was all Cerea knew. It was certainly possible for the air to be this still in a natural environment, but that state wasn't a common one. And there was another factor, something she couldn't quite pin down...
Her ears twisted. No breeze ruffled their fur. The only sounds she could register were those made by the ponies: they'd entered ahead of her, and metal-clad hooves were awkwardly making their way across the landscape. (The majority were visibly unaccustomed to moving in shoes.) She couldn't hear any ani --
-- the yellow pegasus stopped. Glanced back at the others, from her position near the right side of the clearing.
"...I want to try something," Fluttershy softly said. "But I'm not sure if I should."
"Fluttershy," the little alicorn began, "if you've had an idea --"
"...talents," the quiet voice precisely broke in, "are magic. Subtle magic, usually, but... there's power there, Twilight: that's what you've always said, what you write about sometimes for the journals. And I've been listening, ever since we came into the wild zone. I didn't hear very many animals when we landed, but -- there were a few. Moving away, because they were startled by all of the carriages coming down. And they were just about all behind us."
Several of the ponies nodded. Cerea, who just wanted something other than the ongoing reports from her olfactory bulb to focus upon and wasn't exactly unhappy to have the possible killer moving away from her, simply listened.
"...and since we started getting closer to Tartarus..." Fluttershy quietly went on, "...I've been hearing less and less. Even with winter so close, even with hibernation to slow them down and migrations to take others away for a while. I thought... if we found someone who'd seen anything, who'd been a witness... I might be able to question them. That could help us. Just having the extra information."
The girl was looking at the triad of butterflies again.
She talks to animals? Or -- insects? Both?
Cerea understood that some marks were more symbolic than others. And when she thought about it, communication with the animal world was a perfectly suitable talent for an assassin. Just get the family cat to tell you which buttons were usually pressed, and then you could disable the alarm. And why did you need to enter a bedroom in order to poison the target, when you could just send in a mouse with chemically-painted claws?
"...but right now," the pegasus finished, "right here... I don't hear anything. And I could try to call out, see if anyone answered, or if I could call them in... but I don't know if anyone was here to see it in the first place. And just trying to learn..."
Her head dipped. One blue-green eye half-closed.
"Would be active use of magic," Twilight thoughtfully considered. "In the place where we already know there was an attack, because it matches the description Wordia --" the disc didn't render the name as spat or snarled, but helpfully indicated where it had been bitten "-- provided. And even listening might have counted for passive, since you would have been trying to translate..."
The little alicorn visibly weighed the options. Feathers twitched a few times, and didn't seem to do so in a proper order.
"It's a risk," Twilight concluded. "But it might not be a major one, because mark magic is subtle. We need information." Darkly, "And if we get attacked because we do this, that counts."
She took a visual survey of the group, one pony after the other. Checking positions, postures and expressions under Moon's light. There was a moment for regarding the little dragon (who had returned to his sister's back) -- followed by a very awkward one when the alicorn visibly realized she'd looked at everyone except Cerea, probably had to spare a glance in that direction just so as to pretend towards inclusion...
The gaze didn't exactly lance out. Purple eyes forced their line of sight to move in half-leaps, which resulted in a number of virtual faceplants within rocky chasms along the way. Reached the armored hooves, told themselves to work up from there, recognized that things were moving too far up, barely found the strength required to cross the upper waist, entered the shadow cast by a metal-encased bosom, and stopped on the spot.
Twilight swallowed.
"Everyp -- everyone," she said, "I want to give Fluttershy one chance at this. But it's like Spike sending a scroll. It's going to be quick, and we're all on guard."
Multiple ponies nodded. Cerea, for whom being on guard meant one more thing, dropped a hand to the hilt of the sword. The alicorn swallowed again, and then turned towards the pegasus with enough speed to distort the hanging bangs of her mane.
"Count of eight, Fluttershy," Twilight said. "That's it."
The pegasus nodded. Tilted her head back slightly, opened her mouth --
-- the disc didn't hiss, and there was a moment when that almost felt like the strangest aspect. But the girl had barely seen any animals -- or rather, she had hardly seen any which didn't think. There had been a few, nearly all encountered during her first trip through a wild zone. Before she'd found the ponies. Squirrels and glimpses of birds and one deer who'd done just what deer always did: stared at her until she'd moved, and then bounded away. There had been a few birds in the palace gardens, but being kept within the palace hadn't allowed her to see the much-dreaded phoenix. And when it came to being dragged through town in a net -- that didn't really offer much of an opportunity to check for pets.
And still, she expected the disc to hiss, because it always tried to translate. A sapient being spoke words, and the magic did its best. But the languages spoken had always been ones created by those who thought...
What happened when a sapient being spoke in the tongues of those who were not?
A count of eight. And in that time, the pegasus warbled hints of birdsong, which moved into a projecting sort of chitter, added hints of hiss and a brief burst of bark. There were subtle aspects of trill, touches of chuff, and it all came with rapid adjustments to posture, position of wings and legs. Body language warped. A single instant of mewing saw the incredible tail trying to sway like that of a cat. And throughout all of it, the disc remained silent.
The ponies tensed. (It was the most visible with Trixie, whose ears had responded to the aural display through going almost straight back.) Huge eyes surveyed the edges of the clearing. The sky (and Rainbow's wings were flaring again, because getting a better view from overhead was still a great excuse). The ground. Waiting for any form of answer, including the one they feared.
Nothing came. No sounds arose from the forest, and the still air consumed the stillborn corpse of an echo.
They waited. One minute. Two. Six...
Fluttershy finally shook her head. Took a little gulp of air, and immediately released a waft of apology.
"...sorry."
"Ah know why y'wanted t' try," Applejack reassured her, and did so on the move: the earth pony was checking the left side of the clearing. Orange ears kept rotating, as if searching for sound from all sides. "An' Ah ain't gonna argue the why of it. Could've used a witness or ten. But since we ain't got 'em -- let's do what the Princesses asked."
Twilight nodded. "You all remember the briefing. This is Wordia's clearing, and that means we know the carriage came through here. Let's see what else we can learn."
The group scattered somewhat. Spike carefully made his way to ground level: the insulation around his knees gave him some dismount trouble. Multiple glowsticks were ignited, and yellow-green did what it could to add onto Moon's light. It wasn't much.
Cerea, for her part, followed orders. She was good at remembering what her orders were: the process of trying to execute them usually drew a few looks from her mother, especially when the order had been 'Win'. Some of those visual once-overs would feel disdainful, while others had the potential to wither. And on a few occasions, when the parent might not have known that the filly was looking...
Reach site.
She unstoppered the canteen. Tried to breathe in the subtler scents of what both humans and ponies considered to be pure water. It didn't help.
Take drink.
It wasn't much of a drinking game. (The household had only made that collective mistake once.) And once the canteen was closed, the girl inhaled again. Checking to make sure it was fully sealed.
The water's scent was blocked. But when it came to everything else...
Ignore it.
...ignore it...
...I am a centaur.
(There was a moment of doubt.)
Moonlight amplifies. But I can choose how I sort the flow. Scent discrimination. I can survive crossing a street in Tokyo after a hundred thousand humans have crossed that street in the previous day. Hour. I can deal with a thousand models of cars belching and farting and spewing their fumes in that same intersection. All the food which the people were carrying, the chemical stinks of their shampoos and soap and makeup, when none of them know how much some of those skin powders reek. Plastics and the acids from batteries.
Some of them still think tobacco is a good idea.
I crossed that street and I didn't die.
I wanted to vomit --
-- sort the flow.
...ignore it...
...ignore that the whole clearing smells like something dying...
...dying and can't finish...
I know that chemical, don't I? Relatively fresh. When the air is this still...
...they used a lot of it. And...
...blood.
Pony blood. Dried.
Somewhere over in that direction, where Trixie is checking. Wordia said she fell out of the carriage. Any blood that fresh is probably hers. So that would be where the drain took place --
-- she was about to gallop directly for the unicorn, because there was a living source of magic about to trot across the location where the drain had taken place. But then she realized what a centaur galloping towards a pony would look like, the only thing it could look like, began to rechannel her effort into a warning shout --
-- the translator is a risk.
It froze her, just for an instant. There was a chance that the disc's magic somehow counted for being subtle, but the effect was still invoked any time there was speech. They were trying to avoid magic and in any moment when she spoke, when anypony spoke, magic was used.
The fear was that Tirek might somehow detect any magic use: center, approach, and drain. Cerea had no magic of her own -- and as long as the disc was active, she was a beacon --
-- the thought froze her, stilled her voice. And in the moment that happened, the light blue unicorn squinted towards the ground.
She frowned a little, or at least tried to do so: the glowstick in her mouth was presenting something of an obstacle. Squinted harder, then carefully lowered the luminescent tube onto hostile soil.
"I found part of their trail."
Cerea almost didn't register the words, and nopony noticed her next action. The Bearers had all turned to face the speaker: something which meant nopony spotted the moment when the girl's hands flew up, began to clutch at silver wire, trying to pull it away from her skin --
-- no.
Stop.
Trembling fingertips rested lightly against cold metal.
I don't understand enough of their language. They would be constantly trying to get things across to me. With expressions she couldn't always read -- Spike was a lost cause there -- and gestures which, for all but the little dragon, would be made without hands.
Keep the disc on and she was a constant risk. Take it off and she was a perpetual liability.
She... needed comprehension. There was no other choice.
I should have focused more on language studies.
Anything which happens is my fault...
The girl forced herself to slowly approach. She needed the moon-touched enhancement now. Even a split-second of warning...
"How can y'tell?" Applejack called out. "All Ah've spotted is their entrance point." The thick tail helpfully lashed towards a well-shadowed gap in the trees, almost invisible under Moon's current angle. "An' we can kind of project across t' where they would've gone out, but y'ain't standin' on that line --"
"They didn't move in a straight line," Trixie solidly stated. "You pull carts, Applejack. Carts which go down a defined road, which gets used just about every day. You've been smoothing out that surface for a couple of generations." With a soft snort, "I have a caravan. And it goes down paths and trails and byways and if anything gets disrupted, flooded out, or blocked, it goes into places where three ponies across two hundred years thought there was maybe enough space to get through. You don't move in straight lines, especially not when the terrain's this uneven. You look for slopes you can manage. Go around things."
Slowly, the earth pony nodded. "Still begs the question," the large mare said. "How can y'tell?"
The unicorn's grin started as a faint one. Glowstick light made it somewhat sickly.
"Because," Trixie told them all, "their wheels suck."
Multiple glowsticks didn't seem to be doing much to aid the cause. Having everyone standing around the same spot also meant a lot of repositioning: shadows had to be kept out of the area, and Cerea was trying to find a place to stand which didn't have hers placing everything in darkness again. It helped to hang back somewhat from the main group.
(It was another excuse for staying back.)
They were all trying to look at the same place. A rising ridge of rock, one which seemed to be doing its best to discover the art of flinting through rendering its own surface into an endless series of tiny knives --
-- no, that wasn't quite right. Hooks. Catch and tear. And they'd managed to snag something. Tiny fragments of palest tan tinged with faint pinks, as if the wood had been kissed by the lightest of bloodstains.
"White cedar," Trixie announced -- and then kicked in a derisive snort. "Whoever rented this carriage was cheap. You can get white cedar wheels for just about nothing, because most ponies are only going to buy it once."
"Y'sure --" started to emerge from the left.
Another snort. "Ask me about wheels, Applejack. About overpriced circles which break down any time you stop thinking about them for an hour. Putting on all of your spares, and then having them ruined a quarter-gallop later because you only managed to steer half the caravan clear of the sinkhole. I had to learn wheelwright skills on top of everything else, because it can take a day before anypony passes by and if you're really unlucky, it's going to be a wheel merchant."
"Really unlucky?" Rarity carefully tried. "How would that be --"
"-- road prices are just a little bit higher," the unicorn spat. "Stupid wheels. And this is one of the worst materials anypony can use. It may look nice, but it doesn't hold up to the pounding any carriage is going to take when it's this far off the main roads. White cedar is soft, everypony -- and it gets worse than that." And now it was a snarl. "The wood oils are toxic."
"How bad?" Twilight quickly asked. "Deadly?"
I smelled cedar. But I thought it was just one of the trees.
"It would have to be a huge quantity," Trixie told them. "Distilled. For this much wood... it's mostly an irritant. You just don't touch exposed portions if you can help it, in case there's any oils left. And you never want to have it on your fur for too long, in case it works down to the skin." With one last snort, "White cedar wheels are what you get when somepony's just dumping stock. They'll make a wheel out of it because it takes too long to detoxify and they can't make anything else. And the pony who pays for them to be put on isn't really worried about how the ride's going to go."
Rainbow was leaning in now. "I see the curve on the bottom of that bigger piece," the pegasus reported. "So yeah. Wheel."
She stopped. Looked up. Spread her wings (and Fluttershy moved right just in time), rustled feathers.
"Does anypony else feel like the air's a little weird?"
The entire group looked at her.
"Weird how?" Spike asked.
"I'm..." Frustration briefly had its way with sleek features, and a surge of reluctance flooded Cerea's nostrils. "I'm not sure. It's..." This time, the feathers shook. "...it's like the air is -- heavy."
Nopony spoke. A few shifted their tails, Applejack tested her ears against the atmosphere, and Fluttershy simply shook her head. Finally, Rainbow refolded her wings and stared down at the trapped splinters again.
"One more reason why air carriages are always better," she announced. "Even a zeppelin wouldn't leave this kind of mess."
"This time," Twilight told them, "we need the mess. It's a clue -- oh, right, thank you --" The alicorn arched her neck, clamped on the far edge of the item which was clutched between Pinkie's teeth. Custody was transferred, and an expert flip centered the landing on top of the purple mane. "-- and that means it's something we may be able to use --"
There were forms of communication other than verbal, senses outside the standard five (and when you included proprioception and thermal, it was seven). And even humans seemed to have some capacity for knowing --
Twilight's head lifted. Tilted back, and then kept moving up until this time, the little alicorn made it all the way to shocked blue eyes.
"-- why are you staring at me?"
Cerea didn't want to look. Some part of her dearly longed to be paying attention to anything else. Most of the rest was wondering about that first encounter with a quadruped in the forest. Seeing an animal which had displayed no signs of sapience, in a world where most of the ungulates seemed to have their own governments. It begged the question of whether the name had crossed worlds -- and it didn't matter, because with the term foremost in her mind, the disc probably wasn't going to render the term as anything else.
Every word was a potential risk. And yet, it felt as if some of them needed to be said.
"Where did that hat come from?"
Also, a rather confused extra thought chimed in, if I decide to say 'deerstalker', what do you hear?
Twilight blinked. But the words got Pinkie's attention. Blue eyes found Cerea's face, and then they stayed there.
"Most ponies don't ask that question," the flour-scented mare said. "Hardly anypony, really."
"I'm not --" the girl forced out.
"I know," Pinkie rather forcefully cut in. "Hats usually come from haberdashers."
There had been no extraction from a saddlebag: Cerea was sure of that. No flash of corona light, or sparks from a field.
"This one doesn't," the earth pony finished in a tone which suggested that she'd just solved everything. "And that's all --"
The slightly-rounded jaw abruptly closed. Every muscle around it flashed taut, and then they all released at once. Pinkie's mouth fell open.
"-- no!"
She wasn't looking at Cerea any more. The blue gaze was desperately switching from pony to pony, and scent told the girl about fear and a sudden surge of self-hatred added to a desperate need to apologize --
"-- it's subconscious!" Pinkie half-yelped. "I didn't mean to! I wasn't thinking about it at all! It just happens, it just -- there's a clue, and if there's a clue, there has to be a hat -- I didn't mean to do it, I have to be more careful, I Pinkie-promise I'll be careful --"
The centaur didn't understand. The ponies and dragon took slow breaths, and then everypony checked the area again.
"I think we're okay, Pinkie," Twilight finally said. Moved forward a little, just enough for the nuzzle to reach shivering pink fur. "And -- nothing happened. We're okay..."
All right, suggested the same part of the girl's mind which had been wondering about the hat. Just keep an eye on Pinkie. For... some reason...
There had been no hat, and now there was...
"White cedar wheels," Twilight refocused. "Everyone, spread out a little. We're looking for more small splinters."
"And check the dirt," Spike added. "They had to go over dirt eventually. Start at the exit, where the soil takes over again."
"...why?" Fluttershy asked.
"Because the wheels were damaged," the little dragon said. "Wheels leave ruts. Damaged wheels leave impressions..."
They all looked at him, with the girl initially doing so in confusion. But the little alicorn slowly began to smile.
The discoveries were just about simultaneous.
Centaurs weren't bloodhounds. But Moon was full, and her body had responded. The air was still, and -- seemed to remain so, no matter how many ponies were moving through it.
The carriage had been here about a day ago, as the only traffic which the clearing might have seen in quite some time. And now there were more ponies in the area -- but Cerea had entered with those scents. She could sort them out, put them aside in her mind, try to focus on whatever remained.
She knew what she was tracking now. White cedar, the chemical, and --
"I've got wheel ruts!" Rainbow enthusiastically called out, and ponies began to turn
Cerea had just turned. Backed up slightly in order to look down, because trying to clear her view through compressing metal with her arms was effectively impossible.
"I found blood," the centaur quietly stated.
Multiple heads swiveled. Several were having trouble picking a direction.
"...blood," Fluttershy repeated.
The girl forced a nod.
"It's dried. I'm sure it's Wordia's. She said she fell out of the carriage --"
"-- how do you know what our blood looks like?" the yellow pegasus softly asked.
Armored hooves awkwardly shuffled. One arm angled itself over the girl's bustline, and the gauntlet squeezed the opposing metal bicep as the girl looked away.
"...smells like," the centaur softly said. "I know what it smells like."
"...I'm pretty sure it's the same question." the pegasus countered.
"When I... jumped over the bushes, and -- everypony attacked me..." The girl swallowed. "It was the flat of the blade." Always the flat of the blade, when you were carrying something which didn't have an edge. "But when you hit a snout... sometimes, that's enough. Where I come from..."
She stopped. Cerea had never really discussed the existence of horses and -- different ponies -- in her world. She didn't know how to explain that. Beginning with the fact that equines could experience spectacular nosebleeds felt like the wrong place to start.
"It's Wordia's blood," Cerea made herself say, and every word was an effort. "It has to be."
They were all looking at her again --
-- Rarity nodded.
"Which gives us the exact place where the magic was stolen, does it not?" the white unicorn asked the group. "So we now have two things to examine. And I feel we should try to avoid dividing our forces. It may take all of us to work out the finer details."
Twilight nodded -- then winced.
"Which leaves us trying to analyze the site of a magic drain," the little alicorn reluctantly observed, "without magic." With a soft groan, "Let's do that one first."
"Hey!" Rainbow protested. "I found mine before she --"
"-- I can think about looking at yours," Twilight firmly said, "without getting a headache. We'll start with the blood."
Eventually, everypony nodded. (Rainbow's came across as a rather frustrated specimen.) Those who'd spoken took up glowsticks between their teeth again. Slowly approached, as the girl felt the chill soaking through the armor. Something which offered no protection from the cold, or the reek of their fear.
Applejack was the first to close in. Moving carefully, staring down at ridges and points and serrations --
-- the large mare stopped. Carefully set the glowstick down.
"Ground's been disrupted," she stated.
Cerea tried to look at the place where the green eyes had focused.
I don't see...
"How?" Twilight asked. The slim legs steadied as they diverted towards Applejack.
"Think Ah've gotta show y'all on this one," the earth pony considered. "Ain't sure it's gonna be visible t' anypony else."
I still don't see...
The earth pony was looking directly at her.
"Cerea? Saw you take a drink earlier." Green eyes searched until they found the container. "Gotta ask a favor."
I thought they were carrying food and water in scentproof wrappings. They have to wait for me at the Gate: they must have brought something.
They were completely different species. 'Centaur germs' weren't going to be a problem. Wiping the canteen's mouth would just be courtesy.
"If'fin you can spare it," Applejack requested, "tip a few drops right 'bout here." The right forehoof carefully tapped. "Slow an' careful, jus' enough so the dirt can't drink it all. Tiniest puddle y'can manage." With what felt like a rather rueful shrug, "Ah'd usually ask Rarity, 'cause it's gonna take fine control. But... can't right now, an' Ah don't want t' risk bein' mouth-clumsy on this one. Fair? And once it's poured, nopony move."
The girl cautiously stepped forward, fetching the canteen as she moved: ponies parted to give her room. Bent her foreknees and leaned, careful to keep her partially-folded legs away from the ground. Portions of the forward surface were armored, but she hadn't covered every square centimeter. It was the tradeoff between metal and movement: even for a centaur, too much weight would slow her down. And when it came to the threat of losing flexibility and speed, when you potentially had to run for your life...
She peered as closely as she could, staring into a little hollow between rocks. Let Moon offer whatever aid was available.
I still don't see anything.
Cerea rather dubiously poured. The world's smallest lake formed, reflected Moon from its surface as the watching giants waited --
-- air bubbles rose through the water. Four streams of silvery spheres, just barely large enough to see. Three had emerged from soil, and one from rock.
"There," Applejack breathed. "Right there. Y'all see it?"
Cerea saw it. She just didn't understand how the earth pony had seen it.
Slowly, oh so slowly, the little lake was draining.
"Quarry eels an' rock pythons don't come that small," Applejack stated.
Twilight was staring down.
"That's tiny," the little alicorn said. "Pinpricks. Just large enough to remove integrity from the borders."
But not large enough to see.
...maybe it's her talent.
Mark check...
...apples.
I thought sharp eyesight was supposed to come from carrots.
"Ain't sure it relates," Applejack reluctantly admitted. "Ah guess there could be another cause. But Ah can't think of an insect that does the trick, not when it's stone."
"...Snails might know," Fluttershy softly proposed. "But I don't. I'm sorry..."
The large mare sighed. "Anyway, didn't want t' hold nothin' back on this one. All Ah found, so -- all Ah can say. Anypony else?"
They all checked the area. But all Cerea found were more of the scents.
Blood.
Terror.
It's not the Bearers. Wordia, I think. And there were stallions, and...
...somepony else.
A mare. Angry --
-- no. It's... more than anger. I think it's related, but...
She hadn't encountered that scent before. There was nopony there to provide expression, posture, anything which helped to made a connection. And for the strongest odor -- she was sure that the others had at least registered that one chemical stink.
The scents were all the girl had. And for the Bearers -- when trying to figure out how magic had been drained, without using magic to analyze anything... nopony could work out anything at all.
Which brought them to Rainbow's discovery. Twin grooves, not fully even. It was just barely possible to spot tiny hills of impression-patterned earth, in a place where the soil granules were somewhat more normal. A few were even rounded.
"Yes," Twilight breathed, and Cerea finally understood. Because her reading taste had galloped towards tales of adventure, really didn't have much to do with horror, science fiction was mostly a wash and she herself existed as living fantasy -- but if you were really desperate for fresh stories, then there was always the 87th Precinct.
It hadn't been all that bad, even after Cerea had emerged from the gap and found that all of the cited technology was decades out of date. A good officer was a little like a knight. And police procedurals had their own lessons to teach.
It's as close as they can get to matching tire treads.
"Sketch it out," the little alicorn requested. "We'll send that in the next scroll. White cedar wheels, and now we've got the damage pattern..."
"The driver may have replaced them already," Rarity pointed out. "Burned the evidence."
It got her a nod. "It's possible. We just have to hope they haven't thought of it -- Rarity?"
"Yes, Twilight?"
"Why aren't you sketching?"
"...er," the white unicorn said. "Twilight..."
"I know it's not a dress design, but you're the only one who can really draw!" With the faint blush just barely visible under Moon's light. "Most of what I can manage is spell notation diagrams. If Spike tries to make a rubbing on that, it's going to tear the paper. While it ruins the dirt. And the paper. Dirty paper. We'll lose all of the detail --"
The unicorn lowered her head, and an unlit protrusion built from something other than bone gently tapped Twilight's lips.
"-- oh," the alicorn finished.
"I thought I saw a camera among our supplies," the white unicorn said. "Would not a picture be simpler? Film is chemical in operation. And since the most sophisticated flashes are not present, no magic would be used."
"We can take one," Twilight admitted. "But we can't send it. Spike's trick doesn't work on film. It would just burn. Rarity, are you sure --"
"My mandible dexterity," Rarity sighed, "is not quite up to the task. Anypony?"
"I pay local artists to design my posters," Trixie stated. "And that's more detail than I use for working out stunts."
"...sometimes I mark injury locations on an outline," Fluttershy timidly offered. "That isn't enough..."
"I take dictation," Spike told them. "I don't think I can make the picture that fine."
"I didn't bring glitter," Pinkie firmly said. "I wasn't going to invite Tirek to anything. And we're not going to get glitter now, because the hat was bad enough."
Rainbow merely snorted. "It took more than a year before Twilight cleared me to do my own paragraphs. Without her staring the whole time. I'm not ready to try for the cover --"
The pegasus, who seemed naturally attuned to movement, abruptly looked up.
"-- why did you bring a book?" Magenta eyes regarded the centaur with open suspicion. "Because if you're thinking about writing all this down and publishing it somewhere, I write it down. The story version. Everypony takes turns on writing the other stuff. And it can't be published --"
Cerea looked at the group. Took a breath, and focused on the little dragon.
"Does it work on any kind of paper?" she asked. "If it's just the scrolls, do you have to be the one who writes them?"
In response, the little dragon backed up.
No --
-- and kept backing up until his neck was no longer fighting against jacket, plush hood, and the limits of his own joints. It was hard to find a good viewing angle, when you were so small.
"It's easier with the scrolls," he finally said. "I can try with any kind of paper, but the scrolls have been prepared. It's the same with the ink. But anyone can write them. Why?"
She slowly lowered herself again, trying to get as close to his level as she could. Cradled the sketchbook against metal with one arm, and gently extended the other.
He stared at her hand. Five digits, all covered in metal, with the palm represented as a steel hollow.
He could breathe fire at any time.
Even if it's not hot enough to melt the steel, he could heat it before I could get the gauntlet off. Third-degree burns. I could lose my hand...
She didn't have any connections for his scents. She didn't know if he was afraid.
I won't be afraid of you if you're not afraid of me.
Please don't be frightened.
Please...
"One sheet," Cerea softly requested. "If you can spare it. Please."
It wound up requiring three. (Cerea hated working in ink: every mistake was effectively permanent. As it was, she was just hoping she'd come close enough to give somepony an effective point of comparison.) The little dragon took custody of the results.
"It'll go out with the next update," he promised. "Is there anything else I should add?"
"I think I know where they were going," Trixie decided -- and then shook her head. "If they were trying for the first available settled zone. But the Princesses were already going to start there." Carefully, as if reviewing an internal checklist, "White cedar wheels, damaged..."
"The carriage itself may not be much better," Rarity considered. "Fallalery decorated with dross."
"A mare got off," Rainbow added -- then shrugged. "It's not much, but it cuts things by about half if somepony saw it."
"They would have been avoiding witnesses," Pinkie kicked in. "But you never know..." And frowned. "But if they were thinking about being seen, then they might have done as much as they could to hide. Big hats to shadow their faces..."
"Layers of clothing to change their builds," Rarity added -- then softly groaned. "Yes, I am aware that I just further complicated things, thank you."
"...cosmetics," Fluttershy reluctantly told them. "Fleur can do a lot with cosmetics. With an expert, you're just about a different pony..."
With open frustration, "An' that's before we start t' think 'bout fur dye --"
"-- cerulean."
As it turned out, the force of eight simultaneous stares was more than enough to make a centaur canter in place. It didn't exactly help to have one of them be coming from Fluttershy.
"I..." the girl tried to get out through stares and Moonlight. "...I... Nightwatch always said fur dye stinks. I -- I thought..."
Rarity took a slow step forward. The centaur backed up.
"For a few hours following application," the white unicorn carefully said. "And then it fades. Those who wish to change their natural hues for a time often lock themselves within their homes accordingly. With windows closed and the vents shut, which only protects everypony else. They came through last night, Cerea. And you can smell their fur dye?"
Hesitantly, as if every centimeter of movement cost a day from her life, the girl nodded.
"They didn't all use it. Just --"
"You can scent the color?"
"One of the palace employees tried it," Cerea reluctantly said. "I asked Nightwatch about it, and she said it was probably for a party."
"You told me," Twilight slowly began, "that I reeked of guilt..."
The girl's hands, currently (and awkwardly) clenched under her breasts, were doing their best to wring against each other: the metal made noises accordingly. "It was on... Nightmare Night? But it's the same dye. The only real difference is that it's being used by two stallions --"
It wasn't Rarity who made the words stop: the unicorn, wide-eyed and staring, was frozen in place. Spike had just stepped forward.
There was something about seeing a dragon approach which brought a temporary halt to speech. On Menajeria, it was mostly the newness of it. In the girl's home, with one of her own dragons, the paused speaker would usually be searching for an appropriately withering counter-insult.
"Say all of that again," Spike carefully requested. "Slowly. I need to write this down."
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Rainbow, I'm pretty sure a wrecked Zeppelin would cause a bigger mess than a wrecked cart.
"no part of it would never change" - that seems like an unintended double negative.
Yay! Cerea's helping!
And I wonder what the others will make of Cerea being able to smell so clearly...
----
Typo:
could/i]
"not a bloodhound" right.... quicho bullshit cera. you could put old red out of a job
I noticed that fluttershy was ready to accuse her of something awful. It not like when she first met ponies and they decided to get into a fight with her that nobody could have gotten hurt even a bit enough to bleed.
If you have ludicrously enhanced senses, you might as well make use of the things.
Also, those micro-tunnels may point to the root cause... though first our heroine needs to journey into the underworld. Cerea's contributed a great deal to the investigation, but now she'll be needed elsewhere. This isn't going to get any easier...
Ooh? We actually fully look at Pinkie's hoodoo for a moment, that's interesting...
And Spike! Spike is stepping up, and it's amazing.
Each turn the bearers see more and more of her capabilities. Of what one can be without magic. Of how, in a way, terrifying she might be. To be able to smell emotions and put hounds to shame.
Let's just hope they can see her as a person before the end too.
*Groans* Cerea please stop underestimating yourself and speak up.
Kinda funny that they struggle with Pinkie shenanigans now that we're post-Triptych, when their response before that probably would've been 'we don't question it anymore'. Acting like there's a secret being hidden is a good way to lose the secret, girls!
11091880
I imagine they don't. The problem is the author of Monster Musume was just... really, really bad at world-building. And had a very clear... bias, towards only portraying female demi-humans. Races like Lamia and Harpies are 100% female, and the only male monsters I recall showing up in the manga/anime were a group of Orcs who help up a convenience store, and a few merfolk advisors when the characters went to Atlantis (They were the fish-head, human-body kind). So he made male centaurs into savage brutes specifically so he could have it be that the female centaurs were only attracted to human males. (In the manga, not only is Cerea's dad a human, it's stated that pretty much all Centaur females use a 'teaser' to get them in the mood so the male centaurs can then breed with them).
Oh those two...
I wonder if Luna picked up that cerea has super smelling
So Cerea assumed that the ponies' snoots were as acute as hers.
Alas, their snoots, while cute and suitable for one to boop, are not so acute.
I love how the environment is so unnaturally hostile, how everything try to hurt and grab you, how devoid of sound and life it is. It's like it got a certain sentience to it or barely an instinct that shaped the place. Great work on the ambiance Estee.
It's nice to see Cerea contribute and Spike stepping up. I hope she give as much impression and information she can from what she gathered.
The little holes in the ground are intriguing. Maybe it's tied to the reason nobody walked straight into the null-zone?
11100052
It's not that Twilight and Co QUESTION it... it's more the fact tha Pinkie was instinctually using magic. When they're working VERY hard to avoid using it.
Neat, I learned a new word. Fallalery. Always learning from your stories, Estee.
I'm finding the group dynamic so interesting, it's almost disappointing that they're all gonna split up in the next part. But I also know whatever happens is gonna be awesome. Thank you for the chapter! Your work is appreciated.
11099957
IDK, Mythbusters demonstrated that bloodhounds have pretty insanely good olfactory senses. The real noteworthy thing is that it doesn’t seem to have been particularly intentional—bloodhounds have olfactory sensors that are the area of a large handkerchief. Humans’ have about a postage stamp. In addition, like a fucking third of a bloodhound’s brain is dedicated to interpreting and parsing all the information their nose is telling them. For Centaurs to just…have that level of sensitivity without having tried very hard for it, is very interesting, and begs several questions.
Surprised the Sergeant didn’t note the potential usefulness—and detriments—having a ridiculously good sense of smell would bring.
A very intriguing “crime scene” so far…. I’m enjoying the investigation, although I don’t yet have enough to go on to form solid theories. One wonders if the micro vents are giving Tirek direct line-of-sight holes from which to suck all of the magic from small areas. But what would have made them escapes me, and we’ve yet to even prove if Tirek is behind any of this.
I continue to enjoy Cerea working with the Mane Six in all its awkward glory!
11100206
Excellent chapter!
11100255
Yes, I know. The (exceedingly minor) issue here is how they're explaining it to an outsider, accidentally calling attention to it by being so cagey rather than just blowing it off as something unexplainable.
(EDIT: Though on reading it again maybe I just misinterpreted things. NM.)
Law and order: Equestria division.
Doonk doonk.
11099928
Cerea no! Do not ponder the Pink One! You are going to need all those sanity points when you go into Tartarus!
Do not try to think on how Pinkie works, Cerea.
That way lies madness.
Two stallions. Using fur dye.
Even for the ultra-cautious, that seems rather excessive. Mayhap we have found our palace leak?
"whose lives became waking nightmare"
"whose lives became waking nightmare."?
"..and since we started getting closer"
"...and since we started getting closer"?
"They had to wait for me at the Gate"
"They have to wait for me at the Gate"?
Might not be Quarry eels,but are there the earthworm relatives available?
Were there any dragons who made personal appearances in the anime/manga? I thought they were all in the video game (there's Draco, but she's not actually a dragon, despite her name).
11100057
I had the same problem with the Asari from Mass Effect. I always throught the concept of a 100% female race being able to breed with everyone else (even female) through psychic communion was kinda silly even for sci fi fantasy setting.
I am loving Trixie and wheels!
11100782
I think its Flim and Flam
11102287
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jLXv29lraA