Where Only Silver Shines

by Etyco Filly

S9 — Midnight Frenzy

“Thanks, by the way,” said Shade as we walked down a dim corridor.

I turned my head to face her, eyebrow raised. “For what?”

“Hanging out with me while I run errands.” She came to a stop, rubbing a leg against the other while avoiding my gaze. Before I could ask if she was okay, she shook her head and shone me a bright smile. “And also for being my friend in general. I didn’t think I would bounce back anytime soon after losing Andesite. It still hurts, but it’s not the only thing on my mind anymore.”

“You don’t have to thank me for being your friend. You’re a really nice young mare, and I’m glad to be your friend.” I kept my comment about Andesite to myself. He was an idiot to not see how great Shade was, but Shade wouldn’t appreciate me saying it. “Oh, and no problem for the errand. It’s my last day off, so I figured I might as well spend it with somepony nice.”

“Oh, you.” She blushed, looking away. A moment later, she nodded for me to follow as she continued.

Oops. I hadn’t meant it like that. But it would be way too awkward to say that now. Not that she was unattractive, far from it. I just had other priorities.

Or did I? I would be here for a while longer. Only Stars knew how long. She was kind, cute, and close to my age. Then again, so was Arawn. And Arawn had already told me her feelings. She would be hurt if I showed that kind of interest in Shade. Besides, even if I did try anything at all with Shade, I probably wouldn’t be able to get Arawn out of my head.

But Arawn was not an option. It would be suicidal to court her. Whoever told me I deserved some happiness clearly didn’t understand how complicated my emotional life was! Who’d even said that?

Gah, stupid, irrelevant thoughts. I didn’t ask for them. Didn’t need them. I just wanted friends.

Actually… Shade wasn’t very used to affection in the first place, even of the platonic variety, so she might have interpreted it exactly like I meant it; I might just have read the signs wrong.

Whatever! “Where are we going, anyway?” I asked in a desperate attempt to quiet my overabundance of thoughts. I’d learned that word recently, and I loved it. Couldn’t wait to use it in actual conversation instead of mentally. Words like these stopped my mind running around where it shouldn’t.

“The Bloodwing prison,” she answered without turning around. “Have to pick up a list of materials they would like to trade for.”

I furrowed my brow despite myself. “This might just be me being stupid, but… wouldn't it be easier if you went to their mansion?”

She groaned, ears folding. “I wish. Bloodwing is notorious for having few servants; they don’t even have messengers, so news from their prison rarely ever makes it up to the bureaucratic district before the evening. Instead, they prefer to borrow other Houses’ servants.” By the time she was done, her expression had relaxed again.

“That’s… weird and oddly complex.”

The tunnel forked ahead of us, and Shade shrugged before gesturing to the right passage. “They pride themselves in their pragmatism and whatnot. Claim they don’t need servants to get the job done.” She rolled her eyes. “Until someone else needs to rely on Bloodwing. Kind of annoying, if you ask the pony who’s been doing back-and-forth trips daily for almost a week now.”

“Yeah, rich ponies are weird.” I chuckled, then kicked a rock. “What do they even need to trade for?”

“The Bloodwings are a smithing family, so they mainly need ingots, as well as some rare gems that only appear in pockets.”

“What would they need rare gems for?” Another question came to mind, but I kept it in the back of my head.

“They make enchanted weaponry. Well, they don’t enchant anything themselves, but instead make weapons that are good enough to be worth enchanting, and have the necessary gems embedded. It’s a whole—” she stopped and waved her hoof overhead “—process.”

I let out a nearly instinctual “Oooh” at the mention of enchanted weapons. “You think I could get one somehow?”

She snorted, then shook her head. “No way. As far as I know, they’re mostly for export, and what remains is for the Knights’ use only.”

“Bloody Hades…” I grumbled, making an exaggerated sour face, which prompted a giggle from Shade. I chuckled as well and sighed. “I think I had another question, but I managed to completely forget about it.”

Shade looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

What was it…? I mentally retraced the topics of our conversation, and it took me embarrassingly long to remember. “Oh, right! They’ve always been a smithing family, correct?”

“Yes, as far as I know. Why?”

“Then why do they suddenly need you to run errands for them? Shouldn’t they already have something in place?” This was a stupid question, wasn’t it?

Yet Shade didn’t take it as such, and merely nodded. “They used to. They had a direct deal with the Duskbringers, but due to tensions, that recently fell through. The new deals are a lot less profitable for Bloodwing, but they have to take them, else they can’t fulfil their duty to The Tower.”

I tilted my head. “Their duty to The Tower?”

“Yes. Each family needs to produce certain resources. They each produce something different. But most of them have…” She looked away, grimacing. “Cattle.”

I could understand her disgust, but, having grown up as a hunter, didn’t quite share it. “Yeah, I’ve seen some cows around. Wondered how they feed them.”

She frowned, but kept quiet as she continued on. Touchy topic, huh?

---

I was flying back and forth between the stalactites hanging high over the serf village. My wings were getting sore.

I finished another lap and took a while to rest. Ever since my arrival in The Tower, my training had been going well. Much better than usual, in fact. At first, I had chalked it up to motivation without giving it a second thought, but ever since my injury, I had made such huge strides that it became hard to ignore the underlying issue. If it could even be considered an issue.

Today, for instance, I had been meaning to train my sprints—fly a short distance as fast as possible, take a breather, repeat. Yet no matter how fast I flapped my wings, my heart was able to effortlessly keep up. I ended up skipping most breaks, since I was not even getting winded.

I squinted, trying to remember what that anatomy book had said. Did this mean my lungs and heart were able to pump more hydrogen—or was it oxygen?—than my wings could consume? In my head, it all made sense, but I was surely missing something. Why was anatomy so bloody complicated? I used to think it couldn’t be that hard to understand one’s body, but now… what in the Sun’s name?

It had to be from the near-death experience, but how? Normally, that kind of stuff weakens a pony, doesn’t it? Yet here I hovered, stronger than ever. Then again, maybe it was from Arawn’s Book.

Or maybe not; she was winded at even the thought of running, and she had spent a lot of time near that thing.

Really, I only suspected the book because my magic, too, had made a leap. It was even harder to quantify, and I knew even less about it, but there was just… more of it. My wings still burned if I funnelled too much magic through them, but I had yet to grow tired from using it. Since sprinting required dispro… disprapo…

Since sprinting required a lot more magic than regular flight, it had a particularly strong tendency to wear a pegasus out. Well, this pegasus at least, since I didn’t have many others to compare to. Batpony flight was different, and I knew even less about that. Not that I was on great terms with many sarosians, either.

I shook my head; I’d rested long enough. I started another lap, this time with the intent to push some limits. I began channelling ever higher amounts of magic into my wings, quickly reaching terrible efficiency.

I appreciated the reprieve for my poor muscles, but what really quenched my worries was the sound of my own heart beating in my ears. I hadn’t realised it, but I had feared something might be wrong with me, as silly as it may sound.

I’d never channelled this much magic for an extended period of time; my head spun from the exertion. Still, this felt good. Like I had shoved a thick window between reality and myself. Everything grew distant. The occasional shouts from the village. My guts shifting inside of me with every lap. The bright gems embedded in the walls and ceiling. The wind brushing through my sweaty coat. My heartbeat thundering in my ears. The smell of dust in the air. The metallic clangs from the workers. The coppery taste in my mouth. The stalactites rushing past me with a deafening whoosh. The fire in my lungs.

It all was so far, yet so sharp, so clear; like my senses finally had the time to truly process the world. Like the distance made it easier to see the full picture.

I blinked, before letting myself come to a stop. How many laps had that been? Twenty? Thirty? Fifty? The excess magic must have been flowing in my brain. Or something. Beads of sweat rolled down my hide as I panted. I let my vision grow blurry as I hovered there, allowing my whole body to rest.

Shouts from below snapped me out of it. Panicked shouts. I let myself drop, following the source of the screams.

“…everything off! Nopony goes down! Nopony leaves the upper layers! Get the Knights!” a guard cried.

I bolted. Whatever emergency this was, I would be needed. The timing was bad, but I had to press on.

Within a minute, I came to an abrupt stop in front of the barracks, kicking up dust. I ran through the tight corridor that led to the Captain’s office, and banged on her door.

No reply. I shoved it open. Empty. Why did she have to pick now of all times to be out of office? Where could she be? Out on patrol? On the toilet? Sick? No, I’d seen her this morning. Think, Silver, think!

Oh. She was in the estate. The one place I couldn’t access. She always had dinner there in the evening. Damn it! I had to get somepony to tell her! But who? My best bet was the guards in front of the estate. I rushed out, almost forgetting to close the door behind me. Why did she even leave her door unlocked? Whatever!

---

I landed in front of Aurora’s manor, trotting towards the door. Damn it! There’d been nopony before the estate, and I’d needed a minute or two to find a guard and tell her to send somepony to fetch Aurora. I’d bumped into a few Knights who were also looking for her.

I pushed the main door open, relieved the maid hadn’t locked it. I was here to fetch my equipment while I waited for Aurora to show up. As much as it pained me to follow her orders, they were likely my only way to help stop whatever monster was rampaging in The Tower.

Bloody Hades. I should be out there, doing something. Had my encounter with the chimæra made me a coward? It definitely had. Or maybe it had just made me more inclined to take care of myself?

I should really be hunting the beast myself. The guards were horrified, and even the Knights seemed unsure. It had been killing innocents while I wasted time looking for Aurora. No. I wouldn’t let it. Just needed to get armed and armoured first.

So what was I waiting for? Shouldn’t I be bolting to my room in the servants’ quarters? Yet I found no energy to rush. The sheer fear in those guards’ eyes must have struck something. Damn it! Stop being a coward. Or was it just a strategic choice?

Reaching my room broke me out of my stupid cycle of thoughts, and I finally found the mental strength to jump into my meagre barding, picking up my crossbow and shortsword. How many ponies had died because I hadn’t acted faster? Would I be able to live with myself once I saw the body of some colt, lying in his own blood, all because I’d been too lazy to act?

Whatever. Not the time. I tied two weapon belts around my barrel and attached my crossbow and shortsword to them.

I wasn’t supposed to keep any of this outside of the armoury, but the guards were a pain to deal with whenever I went to retrieve anything from there. Even with my collar, they were always reluctant if they’d never seen me before. What about my role as Aurora’s right hoof was so hard to get?

Yet here I was, often treated like a serf. If Aurora hadn’t reassured me I wasn’t one, I’d be beginning to feel like I was.

I furrowed my brow. Had she really said that, or was I misremembering?

Whatever! Not the time for any of this! As I cantered past the living room, movement caught my eye. The maid? I took a few steps back.

On the couch, wearing a torn evening dress, lay Aurora, hugging a half-empty bottle of wine to her barrel. She took one look at me, then at her bottle, before lifting it to her mouth and finishing it.

I stared at her, blinked at her. It was only when she tossed the bottle behind herself, and it landed with a thud on the carpet, that I unfroze. “Captain! There’s an emergency!” How could she be drunk in a moment like this?

The blank, disgusted look she gave me chilled my spine. “I know.”

I gaped for a few moments before my mind caught on. “But how can you know? Nopony could find you.”

She snapped her head at me and screamed, “Because I caused it!” As quickly as it had appeared, her anger vanished, and she grimaced. She leaned down, wrapped her wing’s hook around the neck of a full bottle lying on the floor, and pulled it up.

“What do you mean you caused it?” I kept my tone careful. Neutral. “Shouldn’t you be fixing it if you screwed up?” The alcohol probably hadn’t even properly reached her bloodstream. If she vomited right now, she could still—

“Because!” she slurred. She rolled off the couch, nearly falling over. She pressed her eyes shut, head drooping. It all took a few seconds at most, but it might as well have been an eternity. “Because…”

Aurora snapped up at me. “Because I can’t!” For a fraction of a second, the world was silent, and I stared at her wide, teary and bloodshot eyes. “I fucked up! Too big to just fix!”

A chill ran down my spine as my blood boiled. “So you ain’t even gonna try‽” I stomped both front hooves, only for the blow to be cushioned by the infuriating carpet. “You’re gonna let things get worse and worse, because of what‽” Spittle flew, but I cared little. “Ego? Rank? Stability? Some other bullshit excuse?”

She stood up and walked over to me, barely swaying. The cold fury burning in her eyes calmed my outburst, and I gulped. When she spoke, the reek of wine dug up unpleasant memories. “Because if I do anything,” she hissed, “even more ponies will die.”

Despite my best efforts, I shrank back. She lifted her hoof, but the blow never came. She fell to her haunches, staring at the ground. “I thought they were just rumours,” she muttered.

“That what was just a rumour?” I snapped. “If you won’t fix your own fuck-ups, somepony who actually cares will have to.”

She lunged at me. With a swing of her hoof, she knocked me to the ground. “This isn’t something you can fix, you stupid colt! It’s not something anypony can fix!”

I put my hoof to my cheek. A trickle of blood ran down it. The blow itself hurt a little; I’d been unprepared, and she’d struck my bone. Yet it paled in comparison to her raising her hoof against me.

I sat there for a few moments, rubbing my cheek in sore, aching bafflement. Yes, I didn’t have the best memories involving her, but those were my fault, not hers. That she would strike me like this…

I turned away before tears threatened to run down my face. Before I could leave the room, she begged, “Wait…”

I whipped my head around to glare at her, silently hoping to deny her the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

She gulped; grimaced. “Don’t go out there, please. I’m sorry for hitting you, I was just so mad and—” She shook her head. “Just… please. You don’t deserve to die.”

“Then you better tell me what’s waiting for me.” Was I using my own life as a bargaining chip? Fucking absurd.

She braced herself, taking a deep breath. “It’s… it’s the viscount. I tried seeking out his help and he… he… I think he lost control. He tried to kill me. But even when I got away, I heard screams from around everywhere.”

Confusion, anger, and fear wrestled for control within me. “And why didn’t you do anything? Ponies are dying!” I gritted my teeth. “Because you’re scared? You have your Knights, you have me, and I’ve even heard you’re a good fighter yourself! So why are you so scared?”

“Because he’s just that terrifying!” she shrieked. “I get rid of two, three, maybe four of his copies, but my Knights could barely take one on each. You, too, would die to him.” She was crying, hiccuping. “And besides! Killing him would only fracture his psyche further and it would only make it worse!”

I could only stare at her, eyes wide, while hers were begging me to understand. Begging me to stay. Begging me to live. Begging me to pity her.

“And even then!” she shouted between a series of sobs. “Even then I would lose so many damn ponies to him. We’re already at our limits, Silver, we can’t afford to lose more Knights! Maybe if I had another pony like me, then we could maybe take him on with no casualties, but as it stands, it’s a sacrifice I have to make!”

I scowled and turned my back to her. “Coward.”

---

I was flying down a corridor in the lower Tower. I didn’t know where I was, but I didn’t care. Every few minutes, I stumbled upon another corpse. Another pony guilty of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. By now, my heart had grown numb to them.

No, not numb. It was burning with hatred. Cold, vengeful fury. At the viscount, for being a murderous monster. At Aurora, for causing this and for not having the guts to stop it. And at myself, for being a worthless coward, using orders as an excuse to save myself.

When I’d left Aurora’s mansion, I had been scared of finding the viscount. Terrified, in fact. He was so much larger and stronger than me. I was probably faster, but that would only get me so far. A single strike of his would be the end of me. Even if I blocked it, it would just send me into a wall. And that before I accounted for the difference in technique.

But each dead pony I found, each mangled corpse fuelled the glacial inferno in my heart. Weaker or not, I was eager to find him. Eager to find a way to beat him. Eager to drive a sword through his rotten heart, as many times as needed. Eager to watch him beg for his life. Eager to die and get what I deserved.

Another corpse in the distance. The prisons he had hit were worse, supposedly. Guards spoke of corpses littering the streets of Duskbringer prison. Of a headless filly clutching her plush bear. Sweet stars, even foals hadn’t escaped him.

I wiped the tears off my muzzle. They brought me a strange comfort. At least I could still feel. I hadn’t realised it, but I’d been scared I’d lost all emotion other than hatred. That one stray thought had quenched the fire in my soul, but now, despair threatened to overtake me.

I landed and started slowly walking. I had been too late; I had to accept it. The blood trail was dry. The viscount was long done with his vicious killing spree. He was probably back in the estate, having a cosy, hot bath. Or perhaps he was in the dining hall, having tea and snarling at anypony who looked at Arawn wrong.

A monster like him was beyond comprehension. How could he do such a thing? How could anypony do such a thing? The answer was simple. He was no pony, and I’d made a mistake in ever seeing him as one.

Aurora claimed to not have known, but it could all be an act. What kind of pony would openly admit to knowing her cousin is a monster? For that matter, how much did Arawn know? The thought stabbed into my heart like a dagger, but I couldn’t allow myself to push it away. She’d lied to me before, why would that need to be the only time? She—

My eyes flickered to the corpse, now much closer. My heart stopped. Pale lilac hooves clutched a deep stomach wound, fur soaked crimson. Shade was sitting against the wall in a wide pool of blood, head hunched forward, obscured by a long, dark purple mane.

No, this couldn’t be true! I pulled out a vial of potion and dashed forward with a flap of my wings. If I stopped the blood loss, she would live! I’d come back from worse, and so would she!

When I landed in the pool of blood, I slipped and fell on my side, and some of my joints impacted on the stone. I winced, but ignored the pain. I lay her out on the stone floor. She was so cold. I pushed aside her indigo mane, poured some of the potion into her mouth. She was so damn cold. The rest went into the deep wound on her stomach.

She was a little cold, but she was still alive. I tapped her cheek a few times. “Nightshade, come on, wake up. You’re okay now.” I smiled at her, waiting for her eyes to open. Tears blurred my vision. “You’re an earth pony. I know you guys don’t die so easy, so you can stop pretending. This ain’t like you.” I gulped down a sob. “Just open your bloody eyes, damn it!”

My scream echoed throughout the corridor. It was desperate, pleading, and so very aware of reality. Shade was dead. I’d known it the moment I had spotted her.

Yet I sat there for Moon knew how long, staring at her with a hopeful, desperate smile, all while her blood soaked into my fur and clothes. It was as if leaving her was accepting her death. If I fled, any chance of seeing her again would vanish. If I stopped hoping, she would truly be dead.

But she was, wasn’t she?

What did she do to deserve this? She was the kindest, purest soul I had ever met, and she had been cut down like an animal. She hadn’t even hated her best friend for stabbing her in the back, and yet here she lay, executed like a criminal.

But then, had the other ponies who’d died to his frenzy deserved it? Maybe some of them, but certainly not the serfs. Neither had the children.

Yet when I looked at her face, frozen in pain and terror, everything else disappeared. Nopony else mattered. Nopony else had suffered like she had.

A loud bang finally snapped me out of it long enough to realise I had something to do. There was only one thing left for me.