The Equestrian Files & Associated Material

by hollowsbest

3 - Mare Triumphant

The fog, the red, scarlet fog and its glass-bottle path… It grips you, drags you deep. Your exhaustion far too much to fight, this time- fight it you have to fight it- It will try to consume you- but you’re so tired…

~*~

“Can you please give me the description of the pony that broke in?”

“I can tell you one thing, officer, that thing was no pony.”

~*~

Jasper wakes with a start to darkness, and a comfortable warmth. Her heartbeat racing, breathing rapidly. But as she carefully touches her surroundings, rubbing her fetlocks against the softness of the blanket, she gradually brings her heart and breathing under control. The fog clings, thick and cloying. She ignores it as she always has, lifting the lid slowly, peering through the crack at her surroundings. Surroundings she didn’t even remember from her mad dash across the city last night.

The alley Jasper had finally collapsed in was less of an alley and more of a side street, lit brightly by the overhead sun. If she had to guess, it was sometime in the afternoon. The buildings that flanked the side street seemed to be homes, rather than any sort of store or apartment building. They were made of wood, brightly painted in reds and oranges. Unpleasant.

The street itself seemed to be mostly empty, though she could definitely hear the sounds of children playing further up- Or was it down? She couldn’t tell from this angle, but what it did confirm was that she was undoubtedly stuck for the time being. She had to settle down and wait, the worst thing of all.

Well, best to get these bags off her first.

~*~

In the warmth of the sun and the dark of the dumpster, Jasper inevitably falls asleep. Her exhaustion gaining the better of her once again, dragging her deep into a slumber- One hopefully far more restful than the last.

By the time she wakes, the only warmth left is that of her own body heat. The blanket she's lying on protecting her from the chill of the metal. Her thoughts are fuzzy, but she knows what she must do. She extracts the chalk and amethyst from the bags, and climbs out of the dumpster. A graceful fall, but one nevertheless.

Jasper then, right next to the dumpster, extracts a stick of chalk and begins to carefully draw a runic circle. A small circle inlaid to a bigger one, with runes inscribed in the in-between. It’s a slow process, very particular with not only the runes, but the circles' shape as well. Once complete she places the amethyst within the smallest circle, sized perfectly. She slots the chalk back into its pack, closes it up and gently tosses it back into the dumpster.

Jasper then plants both her hooves beside the runic circle and takes a deep breath. Moment of truth. Was all the work she’d just put in worth it?

She reaches for the magic she knows lives inside her, a warm, fizzy, vibrant hum of power and certainty. Almost cloying at points, thickly sweet- Overwhelmingly present but with nowhere to go. Trapped within herself, until she pulled it forth to give it a task. One it always followed, completed, with such eagerness to perform. It was a comfort to have, to feel. A knowledge she always had a trick up her sleeve, even if she had been stripped of all else.

But what she finds is not quite right. Not quite what she remembers. More liquid, yet more… Immense. Yet still so clearly her’s. She puzzles this as she gently tugs at her magic and directs its flow through her forelimbs, as she would with her hands. It resists her attempts, attempting to flow elsewhere. The harder she forces, the harder it resists. Until it’s doing whatever the fuck it wants, through an avenue she’s never seen before, out of her metaphorical reach. The most she manages is its directive, the circle.

A sudden, bright shine of a bright, brilliant gold forces her to shut her eyes. Her heart rate jumps- But when she opens her eyes, the circle is lit with a softly glowing yellow- But the original flash of light is nowhere to be seen.

“Thank god.” Jasper whispers, the soft embrace of relief washing over her. A smile doesn’t grace her face however, as she stares at the amethyst and its trickle of growing moonlight deep within its facets. She was so close now, so close she could taste it.

She sits there all night, watching it slowly fill up.

~*~

Jasper sleeps all day, curled around the amethyst, glowing a soft silver from within. Whatever brief moments of waking she has are spent checking the stone, and cracking the lid so she doesn't cook. The sun's warmth keeps her in a state of dozing, her consciousness dancing through wakefulness and the deep fog of sleep.

She awakens at nightfall, lips chapped and stomach rumbling. (It’s always rumbling, now.) There is nothing to be done, so she ignores it and gets to work.

The sounds of the community around her have not yet quieted, so still Jasper sits in the dumpster, occupying herself with necessary preparation. It’s fortunate that most of these circles can be small, but with the rounded bottom of the bin it’ll still be a task to get the chalk to stick and the shape correct.

She doesn’t know how long it takes, drawing and redrawing the chalk, the runes, the circle. Entirely focused on making it perfect. One mistake here could spell catastrophe later. Time passes like molasses, thick and cloying. The muffled voices of ponies around her slowly grow silent, until the only sound left is that of chalk on metal and her own breathing. She’s finally done, runes to her satisfaction. Intricate and interwoven. So many more than the simple set done to collect the moonlight- For good reason.

The ring is placed in the centre of the circle, carefully, reaching over the stretch of worryingly fragile chalk. She finally allows herself to sit back and breathe. One last check, to be certain. Running her gaze over the circles until she’s finally confirmed what she already knows.

It’s time to engrave the ring.

Jasper presses her hooves near the edge of the outer circle and reaches for her magic. It responds, far more eager than she’s ever felt. She gently pulls it forward, making the briefest attempt to push it through her forelimbs, but it resists once again. She relents, and lets it find its own way to fruition. A bright, blinding glow fills the small space with golden light- Not fading in the slightest as she presses on with filling the runic circles with magic. (It had to be her horn- What else could it be? She’d figure it out later. Always later.) The slow creep of a soft golden-yellow glow spills over the chalk. Spreading across her lines, her runes, bringing the carefully crafted spell to life.

As the circle nears completion, the silver ring starts glowing too. It begins to float, spinning slowly as Jasper watches. The golden glow vanishes as she cuts off her magic, the circle now brimming with power. It hums, imperceptibly, momentarily frozen before it sparks to life. The ring spins faster, runes beginning to form and shine brightly as they’re etched into the metal, inside and out. So small, so intricate that they could never be done by hand. A blazing pattern making use of every inch of space it had. The glare gets so blinding that she has to shield her eyes with a foreleg, squinting against the light.

The dull clink of the ring hitting the floor marks the end of the lightshow, and the ritual itself. Jasper reaches forward, now not caring about smudging the chalk, and picks up the ring. She inspects it from every angle, eyes running over runes that begin to bleed into each other as she stares. Barely able to distinguish one from the other, but from her other versions… It looks right, one can only hope that it is.

She puts it back on her horn for safekeeping, and sets to work moving everything else outside. Finally realising the lateness of the hour, and the lack of potential witnesses.

~*~

The circle takes up the entirety of the sidestreet, its lines and runes thick and solid but no less intricate. Intersecting circles, each holding their respective materials. At the point, the moonlight filled amethyst. At an equal distance away to its left and right, the mask and a lock of her hair. (Not cut- Yanked from her own head. Her scalp still stung.) The centre, the curved triangle made of the overlapping circles, holds the ring. Runes line its edges, its interior, chalk lines run along most edges, channelling it all to the centre.

Jasper sits in an overlap of the mask and hair, within an even smaller circle. Her tail curled around her body tightly to avoid smudging. A glance at the moon tells her that there’s not much of the night left, it’s now or never.

Her magic jumps to her command, practically running itself as she nudges it into place. Pressing it deep into the circle, spreading outward in waves of power. Golden light spilling from near all that she can see, so bright she has to squint, eyes locked on the ring as it begins to rise from its place on the ground once again.

It all begins to float as she dumps her power into it, forcing it through the chalk at a pace she really shouldn’t. The thought of how close she is beginning to break down her patience. The thrum she feels once the amethyst is connected is heady, the moonlight pouring out to coalesce in the centre of the ring as it spins. She forces more magic into the runes, and the taste of the moon as the ritual finally grips it in its grasp is intoxicating. It spills upon the circle, upon its materials, upon her. Blessing it all with her light, her power.

If Jasper hadn’t been forced to experience this world entirely alone, for far too long… Perhaps she’d be a little bit more careful in her use of the moon. Drawing more power than she needs, simply because she can. She doesn’t need a glamour as strong as this will make it- But why not? Why shouldn’t she? Doesn’t she deserve something nice?

The moment the ritual reaches its head, and her magic cuts off- Her connection cuts off- Jasper realises her mistake. Gone was the warmth and light and power of the moon, and all that’s left is her own magic. Drained, tired, overextended in a way she never should have attempted.

The ritual glows brightly around her- Too brightly. Overfilled with power, spinning not quite out of control, doing precisely what it was told. Make a glamour. The air smells thickly of ozone and heat. The ring itself spins rapidly within a flowing orb of moonlight, far, far too large. It pours into the ring, pressing up against the edges of its circle, barely contained within the protective wards.

“Shit.” Is all Jasper gets out, before everything explodes.

A cacophony of sound and light, rushing over Jasper and parting over her wards in a wave. Overcharged as they are, barely protecting her from the onslaught. She collapses, ears ringing, eyes blinded. Her rapid heartbeat being the only thing audible, before her hearing slowly begins to return. The barking of dogs, shouts of alarm, distant, distant sirens.

She hauls herself to her feet, blinking quickly to try and get her sight to return any faster. She stumbles forward towards the ring, where she’d last seen it, tapping quickly against the ground before she finds it. Her sight returned enough to be able to squint at it, and its entire mundanity. No longer covered in runes, it looks like the same ring she’d originally stolen- She thinks.

Voices, growing closer- Sirens too. She needs to move. Again.

The moment it takes to finagle the ring onto her horn is still a moment too long, and Jasper is moving before it even begins to take effect. Eyesight finally having returned enough to navigate, leaving all of it behind.

The glamour is warm as it spreads over her body, starting from the tip of her horn and ending at her tail. Both constricting and a comfort. Her demonic tail becoming a flowing mass of hair. Her scales becoming fur. Her eyes- They feel strange as the glamour spreads over them- Perhaps she’d done something right in overcharging it, to allow for it to even cover that. (One of the few flaws of a glamour, the eyes and teeth.) It happens in an instant. It happens so slowly she ages immeasurably.

But- But- What matters is it works.

As the sirens fade behind her, much as the yelling of voices and barking of dogs, Jasper smiles, laughs! Bright and giddy and gleeful. For all her mistakes, for all the missteps she’s taken, she did it! No longer does she have to skulk in shadows, afraid of being discovered for what might happen.

She’s finally, finally free to explore!