Looming Shadows
“It was like he thought he was Discord,” Thistleroot said as he, the princess, Starswirl, and half a dozen guards hurried through the streets of Canterlot. “Kept saying Rose needs something he hid.”
“Any chance it’s actually Discord leaking out again?” Starswirl asked.
Celestia shook her head. “No. The spell holding him is still secure. Is it possible that a mental imprint could be so strong?”
“From somepony like Discord? I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. What else did he say, boy?”
“He said that Rose and Lirian aren’t really allies, and that if Rose wins, Canterlot will go boom. Rose wants to get rid of the Alicorns and let ponies rule themselves, since we were here first. Oh, and she plans on letting the princess beat Lirian. I guess she’s convinced the Changeling queen that she can win if they get rid of the elements.” Thistleroot turned along the sidewalk and led the way up to the front doors of the hospital.
Nopony moved to stop them, and the few ponies still in the halls gave the princess and her guards a wide berth. It was peaceful along the first floor hall as the night shift took over. They made the elevator, and as they couldn’t all fit, Celestia stationed the guards outside while the three of them rode up.
The third floor was in chaos. Nurses rushed past, one nearly knocking Thistleroot to the ground in her hurry. Celestia traded an alarmed look with Starswirl and they urged Thistleroot to lead the way.
The harsh lights seemed out of place in the otherwise sleepy evening. They seemed to emphasis the sterile white of the hospital, the cold desperation of the ponies around them. The entire scene felt surreal to Thistleroot. He turned into the hall with the mad pony’s room and hesitated. The door to the room was open wide.
“Princess?”
“Wait here.” The princess started forward, but before she could move more than a few steps, a gurney appeared at the door and was hurriedly pushed into the hall. Nurses and doctors fluttered around it, and one greying stallion was giving orders in a quick, concise voice.
The princess hesitated as they drew closer, and the nurses did the same. After a moment, one brave mare gave a cough, said “Excuse me, Princess,” and shouldered her way past. The princess moved aside to let them by.
Thistleroot saw the patient’s face between two of the medics as they passed. The patient’s eyes were frozen wide in horror, orange muzzle twisted in a silent scream. Thistleroot’s stomach turned to ice.
The shouting doctor and frantic nurses were all just a formality. The mad pony was already dead.
*****
“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Star Shine said as one of the guards turned the key and pushed his cell door open. His days in prison had started to show. His mane was less tidy than usual, and faint lines had appeared beneath his eyes. “Are you here to free me, or will you finally be silencing me.”
“That is entirely up to you,” a voice said. Rose Thorn stepped into sight and dismissed the guards with a nod.
“My dear Rose, looking true to your name as always.”
“Now’s no time for flattery, Shine,” she said.
“Who said anything about flattery, Thorn?” he shot back.
Rose cast him a dangerous look. “The time to move is rapidly approaching, and there is still much to do. The queen wants you moved. She fears our enemies may become desperate and take what you know by force.”
Star Shine nodded. “And I would assume you’d rather let me rot for now? After all, what I know puts more than just her plans in danger.”
“Yes, yes. You’re so clever, you have something over me, I get it,” Rose said. “Of course, it would serve everypony’s interest if you just died, so you should keep that in mind.”
“Noted,” Star Shine said, maintaining his air of casual boredom. “I’d be dead already if I couldn’t serve some other use, so what do you need from me?”
“Your backup files on the Cutie Mark Crusaders, for starters. The originals were seized in your investigation.”
Star Shine raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that the original plan was scrapped with my arrest.”
“It was. The queen believes some of our work with the youth of Canterlot can be salvaged for the final assault.”
Star Shine thought about it for a long moment and nodded. “That might just work. I’ll bring them as soon as I can.”
“Good,” Rose said. She paused and added, “She won’t win, you know. Even if I’m killed tonight, Celestia will swat her down like the bug she is.”
Star Shine gave a small smile. “Worried I’m rethinking my loyalties?”
“Are you?”
“No. I may not be invested in your cause, but I know what’s best for me. Celestia won’t give me my freedom at this point, let alone even a shred of the influence I’ve sacrificed, and Lirian will have me killed the moment I’m of no use to her.”
“Good.”
“How are things going with Scootaloo?”
Rose frowned. “You’ve guessed that as well?”
“My dear, I didn’t obtain my position through looks alone. I graduated valedictorian from that school. You wouldn’t have sabotaged my memory spells unless she was still useful to you, and if you wanted her dead, you would have done it yourself. You wanted her taken to the hive. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a changeling there to assure her escape.”
Rose shook her head, giving him a small smile. “You really are an idiot, Shine.”
“Oh?”
“You’re always so quick to boast, to prove that you know more than you should, or that you’re so clever. Somepony will end up killing you for that eventually, just to keep you from running your mouth. It’ll probably be me.” She turned away. “It’s better to look a fool than to be one.”
Star Shine chuckled. “Where are you off to?”
“I have to talk to some friends about loose ends. One of your messes has been running free for much too long. Bring those records tonight.”
“Of course.” Star Shine turned down the hall to find the guards Rose had sent away. “Well gentlecolts,” he said, “lead the way.”
*****
Even the princess can’t get around this part, Thistleroot thought with a humorless smile. The princess stood in the waiting room, statue like, mane floating gently about her face, baring as regal as ever. She looks better at it than the rest of us though.
They’d been waiting for the better part of three hours with nothing but boring walls, old magazines, and older coffee. It wasn’t as nerve wracking as it might have been. They weren’t waiting to hear if he’d make it. They’d only waited a few minutes for confirmation that he hadn’t. Now they were just waiting on the why and how.
Thistleroot knew why. They’d found the mad pony fighting a garbage bin in some alley. The changelings or crusaders had lost track of him in the confusion of the attack, and had spent the next two days searching for him. They’d finally found him.
It was another half hour before the doctor returned. A pathologist, Thistleroot thought. The princess had ordered that the autopsy be completed as soon as possible. Post-mortem examination, Thistleroot corrected himself.
“Princess,” the pathologist said nervously in greeting, unsure of how to compose himself.
She nodded, smiling kindly, and he relaxed just a bit. “What happened? I saw some marks on his neck when they wheeled him past.”
“Uh, yes. The patient showed several ligature marks of varying severity, as though somepony had attempted to strangle him at least four times.”
Celestia nodded, shivering almost imperceptibly. “And that’s what killed him?”
The pathologist shook his head. “That was my primary diagnosis, but after further examination I didn’t find any signs that would suggest death was caused by strangulation. Actually, I believe he died of cardiac arrest.”
Celestia blinked. “His heart gave out?”
The pathologist nodded. “Tests we’d conducted on his admittance showed no signs of heart problems. My best guess between the ligature marks and the cause of death is that he was scared to death.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Well, theoretically. The rush of adrenaline cause by the fight or flight response can force the heart to over-exert itself, but I’ve only ever heard of it happening in ponies with multiple prior risk factors. As far as I can tell, this pony was perfectly healthy, if a bit mentally unstable, and he just dropped dead of fear.”
Celestia nodded. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Uh, Princess? Do you think whoever did this is still in the hospital?”
“I doubt it, but I’m going to leave my guards here, and send more when I get to the castle,” Celestia turned to Thistleroot and Starswirl. “Let’s get back then. Sterling Silver, Thunder Wing, please stay here for the time being.”
The guards were hesitant to stay behind, but the princess was adamant. Finally they agreed and she stationed one on each floor before leaving for the castle.
“You know what killed him, don’t you, Celestia?” Starswirl asked.
“A specter,” she answered soberly. “I thought we’d finally driven them from Equestria.” She shook her head sadly. “Twenty years we’ve gone without a murder.”
“Yeah, well it couldn’t last forever.”
“Couldn’t it?”
“Uh, Princess?” Thistleroot interrupted, “what’s a specter?”
“It’s a type of non-pony,” Starswirl answered. “Related to Changelings and Windigos. Except instead of feeding on love or anger, they feed on fear.”
“Oh. Fun.”
“Despicable creatures,” Starswirl said. “Been around longer than just about anything else. Got closer to eternal night than Nightmare Moon ever dreamed of.”
“And now it looks like they’re working with the changelings,” Thistleroot said.
“Looks like it.”
*****
The investigation into the mad pony’s death brought up little. The royal guard had eventually found his family to deliver the news.
His name had been Day Dream. He’d been a student at Celestia’s school several years earlier, when it was still just for unicorns, but had dropped out after his first year.
Thistleroot wondered for the thousandth time if it was his fault.
The mad pony had only been killed after talking to him. Was it possible that the crusader’s knew his whereabouts already, and had only decided to kill him because Thistleroot had found him?
He wanted to do something, find some way to help. The princess was busy all the time now, meeting with the guards in charge of the investigation, going over Canterlot’s defenses again and again. Thistleroot found himself moping alone in his room more and more, going over his actions and wondering if he could have done anything different.
This isn’t like you, he thought. Angsting over your actions like some teenager from a b-grade romance. Then again, Swan Belle’s biggest problem was that her boyfriend was a vampony. Not that he would know anything about that book. Or its four sequels. Cool ponies like Thistleroot didn’t read filly lit.
“I need to get out of here,” he finally said aloud and started for the hall. The guards had stopped giving him odd looks when he passed, finally familiar with his face. One or two even nodded as he made his way down the stairs and out the front gates of Canterlot Castle.
He considered several of his favorite places. He could grab a bite to eat at Pony Joe’s or Olive’s Garden. Or he could drown his worries in bad karaoke and tacos. Finally he settled on visiting his apartment first. He hadn’t watered the plants in almost a week.
He took the familiar main road, turning onto Lincolt, and was pleased to see that everypony was going about their daily lives. There was a bit more tension in the air than he remembered, but the damage from the changeling’s attack was being repaired quickly.
He pulled the spare key from behind the number plate and unlocked the door to his apartment. It was just as he remembered it, with a little more dust. The dining room table was propped up on milk crates, its broken leg still resting on top. He never had gotten the story behind that.
His eyes widened in horror as he reached his bedroom. “My ficus!”
The plant in question, a small vibrant shrub he’d just gotten, had fallen from the windowsill. Its pot lay in pieces on the floor, and its leaves were wilted and spotted with brown. “No,” he cried out, cradling the poor moraceae. “Not like this. You were much too young. It wasn’t your time.”
A soft thump came from outside his bedroom, and his ears perked up. He dropped the plant and picked himself up slowly. “Hello?”
Hoofsteps drew nearer, and his bedroom door creaked open slowly. He lifted the ficus in a telepathic grip. “I’m armed.”
The door swung completely open. Thistleroot’s first thought was of a changeling, but as he prepared to swing the plant down onto its head, he realized he was wrong. It may have had a black coat, but the creature standing before him was most definitely a pony.
It was an ugly pony, to be sure, but in an almost cute way. It had a bristling black coat and big, bright blue eyes. It didn’t have a horn or wings, or a mane or tail for that matter. It was also thin, unhealthily so.
“Uh, hey there, little guy,” he said, lowering the plant just a bit. “Uh, can I help you?”
The little pony started shaking its head, and Thistleroot realized it did have a mane. A short one. Except it was getting longer. The black mane was gathering around its head like a billowing sail, quickly growing larger than his own, cascading down the pony’s shoulders, flowing down its legs, and pooling on the ground.
“Ah, ponyfeathers,” Thistleroot said, lifting the ficus to peg the little freak.
He was too slow. The mass of dark mane shot across the room like a whip, striking him under the chin and disrupting his levitation spell. For the second time, the fragile plant fell to the floor in a pile of its own soil.
Thistleroot flinched back as the dark stuff which he was beginning to doubt was a mane coiled back, spinning around the black pony like a lasso. It lashed out and he threw himself sideways, barely dodging the blow.
His victory was short lived. The black rope never slowed as it whipped around, striking from behind like an angry snake. He turned to focus on it and another tendril seized him from behind, wrapping tightly around his neck.
His vision blurred as he struggled to draw breath. His hooves felt numb and he couldn’t concentrate on any spells. He’d realized too late what the pony was, realized it when it’d seized his neck. It was a specter, the same thing that had killed Day Dream. It was going to kill him next, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.
Panic set in. He kicked his legs frantically, tried to pull at the leash around his neck. He knew at the back of his mind that fear was what the thing wanted, but it hardly mattered. Thistleroot was afraid. He was terrified.
His hoof caught on something else as it pawed at his neck. A chain. His eyes widened, and he felt his way down to the charm at the end. It was warm to the touch.
Help.
Air rushed to his lungs as the specter released him. The charm burned in his hooves. His bedroom shone like the sun, even through his closed eyes. A cry rang out, like a song, reverberating off his bones. A moment later, another cry rose above it, one filled with fear and pain.
The light and noise faded. His eyes focused. The room was in shambles, the plants all tossed about. Some of them had been burnt to a crisp. Where the specter had stood was only a dark smudge on the ground.
Staring at him, perched atop his bedpost, was a brilliant red and gold bird.
“Well,” he said, voice a sore rasp, “hello there.”
*****
The princess arrived less than a minute later. Her guards arrived several minutes after that, winded and wide eyed.
Thistleroot learned that the bird’s name was Philomena, and that she was a phoenix. He thanked her again, still a bit dazed and unsure of whether or not she even understood. He was brought back to the castle and examined. After being assured that there would be no lasting damage, he recounted the events to the princess, Starswirl, Twilight Sparkle, and half a dozen other ponies. The princess then began giving orders, and other things that Thistleroot didn’t care to focus on happened. He drifted off after a while. His last thought before closing his eyes was that almost dying really took a lot out of a guy.
He awoke to screaming.
The changelings were attacking.
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The problem with reading at 4:30am, I totally read that as 'Sweetie Belle' at first because I totally did not remember anything like that being mentioned. Then I read read it and went 'oh, that makes more sense'.
3143536 Reading your comment I saw it as Sweetie Bell until I realized you were talking about about misreading it. Rereading also confirmed I missed it as well.
Errr, what?
3078534 That's why Celestia outsources such tasks to ponies like me: evil scientists who enjoy wiping out entire sapient species!
We get off on it unbelievably!
3143734 Ditto, dang.
3144010
...wow, how did I manage that one?
Please tell me this was deliberate!
3147818 ... It took me a solid five minutes to realize that you were talking about the Zelda cartoon... I don't think it was a reference, mate.
3147818
It wasn't meant to be a reference, but I did think about the cartoon after writing the line. Is that close enough?
3152041 Eeyup.
3146483 Blame G-docs or whatever you wrote on for not copying correctly... That's what I do
I'm still a little confused as to what is going on. I'm still trying to figure out where is Scootaloo and Mimic?
3352088
At the changeling hive/mad lands. This is going over the week since the wedding from Thistleroot's perspective.
This isn’t like you, he thought. Angsting over your actions like some teenager from a b-grade romance. Then again, Swan Belle’s biggest problem was that her boyfriend was a vampony. Not that he would know anything about that book. Or it’s four sequels. Cool ponies like Thistleroot didn’t read filly lit.
too funny. Loving this story as much as it's prequel.
Or it’s four sequels
it’s broken leg still resting on top
It’s pot lay in pieces on the floor
started shaking it’s head
was gathering around it’s head like a
flowing down it’s legs
floor in a pile of it’s own soil
1. Its.
2. Its.
3. Its.
4. Its.
5. Its.
6. Its.
7. Its.