Diprosopus

by WritingSpirit

Tenebrosi Temporis

"Bring the prisoner forward."

The wrapping around his eyes flared with white once it was ripped off from his face, the rapid pumping of his heart forcing him to gaze up at the silhouette of a pony shrouded in the hellish glare, though his eyes darted away immediately. He wriggled about fruitlessly, feeling something painfully tight, thin and metallic around each pair of hooves. The gag around his mouth was choking him, though somehow he knew it wouldn't do so much longer.

The figure before him raised a curved blade; any curvier it would become a sickle, with the tip pricking the bottom of his chin. He let out a small gasp once the blade suddenly swerved upwards, slicing the gag around his mouth and leaving a faint scar across his lips, the blood from within seeping onto his taste buds and making him grimace.

"Is he the one?" a deep, gruff voice asked from whoever, or whatever, was behind him, though the strong hands firmly gripping his sand-colored shoulders was already giving away his minotaur origin.

There was a feminine chuckle from the pony in front of him, forcibly craning his head up into the glaring light with the tip of her curved blade. He could only growl once he saw her glinting smile, her serpentine voice hissing out:

"Welcome... Professor."

The rest of his captors laughed maniacally at his predicament, sounding like some sort of madpony's bestiary: there were the shrills of griffins and the chortling of minotaurs, the cackles of harpies and the exhilarated barking of Diamond Dogs. He knew which laugh belongs to what; he is a professor for a reason, after all.

"So tell me," the foxy voice purred at him again, leaning down towards his snout, the tip of her hooves twirling about his gray mane teasingly.

"How does one such as you end up here, hmm? You're a long way from home, my pet."

"H-How would I know?" he stammered out a reply.

"Y-You... you were the ones that br-brought me here...!"

That only heightened the laughter of the various abductors surrounding him, mocking him in his bound state. He could feel his sweat creeping down the hairs on his skin, and he knew it wasn't from the stuffiness of the room. The mare, who seemed to be the leader of whatever establishment, just fondled his cheek tenderly, though he knew very well of her intentions.

"So, Professor..." she purred, bending down towards him. He could see her emerald eyes glittering with intent once his vision got used to the blinding glare, piercing into his joints and leaving him too stunned to move.

"You and I know the reason why we've come down to this. All alone, helpless with the enemy with not a single pony to save you. No one knows you've disappeared, no one knows where you are, and the only ticket to your freedom is when you tell me what you have discovered."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!"

The restrained stallion's cheeks burned once the mare slapped him with the side of her hoof, earning cries of ridicule and mockery from their audience. He coughed and wheezed from the pain, though not before he was hauled up yet again by the throat, staring right into the green pupils of the mare.

"Sp-spare me..." he managed to choke out.

"I need answers, Professor Page," she said his name aloud, pushing him back down onto the sandstone floor.

"Your discovery has caught my interest, and with that of my master. He's expecting results, which means he's expecting you to talk, yet you lie in your miserable silence when we already know what you're hiding. What wouldn't be a more fitting reward than freedom of your solitary captivity from just a small... discussion, of your discoveries, hmm?"

"H-how would I know you would spare me as you promised?" the professor shot back.

"I've seen many that had been through this before, and most had not survived."

"Oh, but we're talking about our master here."

The mare settled him back down onto the gritty floor, settling her blade onto his cheek. He winced once the tip swiped across his skin, leaving a small trail of blood leaking out onto the blade.

"Our master respects. Our master acknowledges," she cooed, licking and savoring the stallion's blood; one that was met with disgust from the undesired donor.

"If he were here, he will help you in your quest, Professor. To achieve what you can't in the past... six? Seven months? And you will keep your end of your research, your increment and your freedom, for he would only need knowledge."

"And if I disagree?"

"That's the best part," the mare replied cheerfully.

"You just...... can't!"

Professor Page, as he was called, stopped to think. He needed help badly, though not from the enemy, which seemed to be the only remaining choice he could turn to. The deal seemed too much of a great one to him; nopony would just kidnap someone and offer their services to him, especially when he could gain more than he could possibly hope for.

"And..." he began hesitantly, "what of Canterlot?"

"Your acquaintances and clients will be dealt fiscally," was her reply.

She suddenly clapped her hooves, ordering her subordinates to leave the room, in which they did so quickly, albeit reluctantly. The professor could only watch as they shuffled outside, closing the door and leaving him alone with his leading captor, who gave him a tender smile.

"My master promised to provide you with my... services, you could call it in these parts." she hissed slyly.

"The heat here is just so... mmm... tempting...... and all this for the reward of your... research..."

He could only grit his teeth once he was forced onto his back, his cheeks furiously blushing once he saw the silhouette of the mare straddling on top of his chest. The sight of his uncertainty made her lick her lips tentatively, her hooves running up the side of his neck to his cheek, fondling and caressing it gently.

The desperate wriggling of his bound hooves stopped once her snout meet his, her tongue reaching out to lick the recent wound on his cheek, forcing out a whimper from him. Her emerald eyes burned with lust, as was her coy smile. Slowly, her lips pursed up, before she gave his pair a small kiss, letting out a whisper amid their small, near-silent pants while her hoof ran down his body:

"Just... let it happen..."

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"I'm not sure it would work, Rarity."

"You could at least try," the fashion designer spoke determinedly, crossing her hooves.

"There must be some sort of spell that could open it."

Twilight sighed, gazing at it lying innocently in between her and her friend, and by it, she meant the glass pendant that both Rarity and Spike had retrieved from the secluded rooms of the palace. It was brought to her attention after she saw it when they were finishing cleaning up the library, and her friend had suggested trying to open it.

Spike and Applejack were at the side, glancing at the two unicorns pondering over the pendant. Their heads were imbued with curiosity at the intimidating sight of the keyhole on its crystal surface, and the situation only reminded Twilight of the last time she did something like this.

"I don't think it's just another lock, Rarity," she protested.

"I mean, somepony went to great lengths to place this in a hidden room with falling glass, echoing walls and a pressure stone pedestal. Why not the lock as well?"

"Y-you might be right..."

With a sigh of defeat, Rarity picked the pendant back up, wearing it back around her neck.

"I just wished," she began, "that I would know the reason I was lead to this thing."

"Well, there must be somethin' thats mighty darn important inside," Applejack piped in.

"Y'know it just ain't right to hide it like that. Ah understand if it's for safekeepin', but really? If it ain't that important, then it ain't need all these traps for it."

"Got that right," Spike replied gruffly, crossing his arms.

Rarity could understand why, of course. It was still fresh in her memory: their narrow escape from death, where the dragon would be killed if not for his scales. The peril, like many others, both real and fictitious, manifested into one of her nightmares when she was trying to sleep, and she could not help but shudder once she recalled the said event.

"But still," he added, "it's a little disappointing that it can't be opened or anything."

"Maybe there's something in these books that could help me with it," Twilight said.

"In the meantime, why not you guys get ready for the picnic? Rainbow said she would be coming down as well. Maybe then you guys could tell me about how Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are coming along."

"Y-Yeah... about Scootaloo..." Applejack began.

"She's not really... well... good this past year."

Rarity and Spike could only nod sheepishly in agreement, to which Twilight could only blink her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked her friends with a breathless, faltering laugh, thinking it was some plain joke, though the way they were glancing around uneasily at the mention of the filly proved otherwise. Surely she didn't get into trouble, she asked herself. She's only fourteen, for Celestia's sake.

"What did she do?"

A loud screech snapped into their conversation, the equally blaring crash that followed raising the lavender unicorn's curiosity and, for the rest, their horror. Hurriedly, Applejack galloped out of the door first, leaving the rest to follow her only to be shocked at the scene before them.

Broken splinters of wood filled the streets, with lettuce, cabbage and cauliflowers launched into the air like stones and rolling down the dirt road, where many ponies sought to catch them for whatever unlucky farmer that had lost them in the accident. A few angry shouts and debating voices were in an uproar in the distant, prompting Spike to shake his head with a sigh at both the debris and the argument.

"Not again..." he groaned.

"Again?" Twilight emphasized on that word, blinking twice to make sure she wasn't imagining. She herself already couldn't believe the chaotic scene that was before her, and the thought it happening before in her absence was a little shocking for her.

Applejack had already stepped ahead, squeezing through the gathering crowd and to the two arguing ponies in the center of the spotlight. When the rest decided to join her, the crowd had already started to disperse, leaving the farmpony talking to an understandably angry colt, gazing indignantly at the pony behind her shoulder.

"You tell that kid to be more careful next time!" he snarled, gathering the last of his produce in a sack.

"Somepony could get real hurt!"

"A-Ah'll make sure of it!" Applejack stammered sheepishly, watching the colt leave them in a huff. She turned to the other 'victim' of the accident, who was frowning back at her whilst leaning against her small motorcycle, a helmet decorated with spray-painted flames searing from its edges lying on its rubber seat. The farmpony could only shake her head at the mare's pure ignorance, instead glancing back at her approaching friends.

Twilight stopped to let her head process at the pony standing next to Applejack, unable to believe her eyes. Despite the teenage filly's black studs on her ears, the black leather jacket she was wearing and the glare she was sporting, the short, purplish mane and gamboge color of her coat was proof enough to tell her who it was.

"Sc-Scootaloo?"

The filly merely grumbled, her wings fluttering bitterly. If anypony needs an anger management class, a makeover or even a bike license (Twilight wasn't convinced she just somehow got the motorcycle), Scootaloo would be the top contender for those spots.

"Thought I'd see you again," she scoffed, brushing her mane to the side. Twilight could only blink at the harsh, deadpanned tone of her voice: it was filled with a cocktail of arrogance and disgust, served iced from her darkest, coldest pits of her heart.

"Why are you here? To give me some counseling? 'Cause that's not gonna work anymore."

"Well...you... you've changed..." she began, feeling more insipid than ever.

"That's a pretty nice... bike you have there. Did you buy it yourself?"

"No! Not at all!" Scootaloo shot back sarcastically, earning a grim look from the rest of them.

"In fact, my mom gave it to me for my birthday! You know how mommies are with their fillies, just that my mom's different from the rest: she was never here at all in the first place!"

"Scootaloo!" Applejack snapped.

"Ah'm warnin' ya, another word like that with that attitude of yours Ah'll make sure you'll see that bike in pieces, ya hear?"

"Pfft..." she hissed, strapping her helmet back on and shuffling back onto the rubber seat.

The engine roared while its nozzle spewed and lurched a little, before Scootaloo soon sped off on her motorcycle, not bothering to give an apology or even sparing a glance at the group. Applejack let out a frustrated sigh, with all eyes watching the teenage mare zooming across the roads, leaving behind a trail of dust.

"Ah'm sorry 'bout that, Twi."

"It's okay," the lavender unicorn answered, albeit reluctantly.

"She's a teenager now, and teenagers... well... they are rebellious sometimes."

"But she's the epitome of rebellious, Twilight."

Rarity's words were a little exaggerating to her, yet they ring true all the same: she didn't see Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle being this obstinate at all, but none of them could blame Scootaloo for that.

"She doesn't have to be so inconsiderate to other pony's feelings. We're all trying to aid her, but cutting us out from her lifestyle... I myself don't see a reasonable point in that."

Spike said nothing; all he could do was wear a grave expression on his face. Twilight let out a small sigh, heading back to her library while trying to rid any incriminating thoughts about the encounter with the... new Scootaloo, repetitively reminding herself she's a teenager.

"About the pendant, Rarity," she said, dismissing the topic entirely.

"I'll try to get something about it. I'll let you know if something comes up."

"Alright," Rarity replied, clutching the glass pendant around her neck in a brief moment of hope.

If there's anything she needs now, it's answers. Why her, of all ponies, to recover such a unique trinket? Why would such a thing lure her there in the first place?

The glass surface of it shimmered in the sunlight, as if it has a life on its own. The fashion designer sighed at it, the pendant pestering her regard for it whilst trotting along with Spike back to her boutique, giving her goodbyes to both Applejack and Twilight, though her attention soon veered once she saw the dragon's solemn expression; the same one he was wearing when they were waiting for Twilight at the train station.

"Spike?" she called to him, cocking her head.

"What is it?"

He just remained silent, leaving her to shake her head.

"If you're going to keep your mouth shut like that," she began, "then I would never know what's been disturbing you lately. Is it about Scootaloo? Or just some more ponies talking about you?"

The reply was unwelcoming, if not a little shocking; one that just made Rarity push it to the back of her head entirely. She don't want to risk screaming at him for the town to hear, especially when they were still close to the abode of her recently returned friend. One rebellious filly was enough, but an infuriated dragon might be too much.

With a sigh, she let Spike's reply echo unnervingly in her head, clenching her hooves tightly once she heard it again:

"Just forget about it..."

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"And the professor instructs the class: 'Using all that you've learned throughout this course, prove to me that that this chair does not exist!"

"Well?" Ganger asked in an almost whining tone.

"Go on, Ollie! Don't keep the crowd waiting!"

"Relax, laddie!" Ollivander cheerfully replied with a chirpy laugh, tossing more sticks into the bonfire.

"So, pencils are writing and erasers are erasing, students are preparing to embark on novels proving that this chair doesn't exist, except for one student. He spends thirty seconds writing his answer, then turns his work in to the astonishment of his classmates. Who would've written something like that in such a short time? After that, time flies faster than Selena could speed off in a hurricane-"

"Ollivander~!" Selena wailed, the rest of the group giving a small laugh as she shook her mate's talons.

"Don't include me in any of your jokes! It's a little... embarrassing..."

"Aw... but I like it when you blush."

His reply made the cheeks of his yellow marefriend turn redder than the falling maple leaves overhead, the gryphon giving a smirk and huddling closer towards her.

"You look cute when you do that, Salvo Gust," he cooed, nuzzling her snout. She merely whimpered with disgust at Ollivander's usage of her 'nickname', nudging his shoulder while whining:

"Don't call me that!"

"Enough lovey-dovey already!" Ganger broke into the scene, his twin sister pulling him back down.

"Get on with it!"

"Alright, alright! As I was saying, time flies like..."

Ollivander stopped with a sheepish grin once he saw Selena's face scrunch up again, before he forced out a cough, ruffling his wings a little.

"A bird. I was gonna say bird. Time flies like a bird, and the day comes when all the students get their final grades and, to the amazement of the class, the student who wrote for thirty seconds gets the highest grade in the class! His answer... wait for it..."

"His answer was.... 'what chair?'."

All of them broke out laughing on the spot, nearly spilling their various drinks onto the forest floor. The sounds of nature filling the atmosphere was now replaced by each of their signature chortles and chuckles, echoing up into the pine trees and filling the evening sky.

Pinkie wiped a small tear off the corner of her eye, giving her mug of cherry punch a sip. If there was a master of jokes and puns in their team, it would be none other than the gryphon himself.

"Tell me more! Tell me more!" she said cheerily.

"Well, aren't you anticipating something, lass!" he squawked.

"I profess, it's enough for the time being. Wouldn't want to lose our heads in the night now, would we?"

The rest could only nod in agreement, leaving Pinkie to sigh in disappointment.

"Come on, Pinkie," Velvet said with a chuckle, cocking his head towards their mobile shelter where all of them were heading towards to for a well-earned rest.

"Don't wanna wake up late tomorrow now, huh?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed gleefully.

"I'm just waiting for Phoenix, actually. Where did he go?"

"Beats me," was the stallion's reply, making Pinkie sigh once he stepped into the caravan, leaving her alone to stare into the darkening forests around her. Phoenix was never a fan of the campfire gatherings they had at night, always in a pursuit of silence once the gryphon started to pour out his jokes and stories, though he wasn't very good with the latter.

Phoenix is the master storyteller, both Ollivander and Velvet claimed, knowing their friend all too well. Only the two of them had heard his tales of sagas and chronicles; the rest, including her, were only subject to his ever-somber mood, and had been so ever since... well, she wasn't sure really.

She trudged around the campfire, tossing a bucket of water onto the flames and leaving it a funnel of smoke. Usually it was Phoenix's job to clean up and such, but it doesn't seem fair when he's not around to use it and he has to help them with the job.

Pinkie soon squinted the eyes into her surroundings, smiling only when she saw the unmistakable streak of the stallion's tail in the dark. Slowly, she crept deeper into the forest, ignoring the various nocturnal noises all around as she neared him.

"You're not Velvet, Pinkie Pie."

Bubblegums was the only word she could think of as a curse once Phoenix turned from the tree he was leaning against, his flaming tail extinguishing from base to tip. With a sigh, he crossed his hooves, staring at the sheepish mare and cocking his head to the side.

"What are you doing up so late?" he questioned.

"I don't want to keep waking you up all the time."

"Well..." she began. She knew Phoenix wasn't in the mood to talk; he always was. He only speaks when he deemed it necessary, Ollivander had told her once, and he spoke more often around her when she was still confused and uncertain of who she was or where she was, for that matter, which was a little surprising.

"I just thought you wandered away... and I want to see how you were doing."

His expression remained undaunted, but the small sigh that came after convinced her that she teetered him off his melancholic mood.

"Just thinking about the place we were going," he said. They had discussed it earlier: something about a location called the Shetland Isles which, despite its name, was located in the center of a grand lake known as the Mammoth's Waterhole. Velvet had stated that is geography consists of steep mountains and jagged cliffs, along with crevasses and canyons underneath them. The only flat, fertile land was that on which the Shetland kingdom was built upon, and all of them were eager to see it.

"You might need a little knowledge on the dangers we might face on the road."

"Knowledge...?" she asked.

"Of what? Pumpkin monsters?"

"Well, it's hard to put... pumpkin monsters?"

Phoenix started to smile, signaling a triumphant win for Pinkie. The two of them chuckled at the randomness of the pink mare, their laughter echoing in the night, before he continued:

"You see, the journey ahead isn't always safe. We've all been through some trouble along the way and each of us had faced at least a wolf or two, except, per say... you, of course."

"Uh-huh? And?"

"I was thinking... maybe it'll be better if you learn something to defend yourself, just in case."

His suggestion was met with a frown from Pinkie, whose gut had told her it was a bad thing. She started to trot back to the caravan, though Phoenix quickly galloped after her.

"You don't understand, Pinkie," he said breathlessly.

"I'm not saying you're weak or anything. I just thought you have to learn something just in case you get into trouble."

"You're saying it like I will get into trouble."

Pinkie's glare stung onto his own, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. There it was again, Phoenix's inner voice said: the flicker that he saw when he found her in the forest. Her mane was starting to shrivel, returning to its depressed state once the turquoise stallion got closer to her.

He could've sworn he heard a sniffle from her. There's no way she started crying already! She's fragile from what she's been through, yes, but not to this extent. Then again...

"Fine. Forget about it."

The pink mare stopped in surprise once he said that, her mouth wanting to speak, though Phoenix never gave her a chance to. He marched past her, not bothering to give her another glance, only saying impassively:

"Sleep early tonight. You don't want to be late."

With that, Phoenix shut the caravan door, leaving Pinkie to stare at his departure. A small wind picked up as if on cue, blowing her slightly flat mane to the side while she gazed at the wooden door, unsure of what to do.

Did she just made him angry, she asked herself. She could never tell, seeing how he's so serious all the time. A part of her wanted to head inside (which she has to anyway, if she wants to sleep) and apologize, but her hooves wouldn't budge, leaving her frozen on the spot.

She gazed down at the blades of grass tickling her around her hooves, scolding herself for being such an idiot. He means well to you, Pinkie, the voices in her head shouted. He's here to make sure you're safe.

With that, the pink mare reluctantly headed into caravan, shutting the door behind her. Slowly, she crept into her room, which she shared with Phoenix ever since he found her in the woods, finding him silently sleeping on his bed. Pinkie sighed, before placing herself under the sheets of her own bed, glancing across the rift of space separating her and the sleeping colt that was illuminated by the moonlight sifting from the window, before she too fell into her slumber.

Phoenix opened his eyes once he heard her snore, muttering softly before resuming his sleep:

"I'm sorry."

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"Only five?"

Caduceus nodded at his friend's question, placing his mug of coffee down once he swallowed what his mouth could accommodate from the strong brew. He gazed down at the map of Equestria in his hooves, furrowing his brows at the five red X's on each town: Manehatten, Seaddle, Fillydelphia, Stalliongrad and Canterlot itself.

Stellar scribbled the names down in a tattered piece of paper, placing his pencil down as he eyed the facts that he could muster from them. So far, each of them had received bomb threats, with one of them already set off in the capital and leaving behind only fear and desolation, and that was about it.

"Five will not do," he spoke, gazing down at the map.

"I can't work with only this few. Right now, it just seems to be a few threats senselessly scattered around some of the main cities. This would never work without a good lead."

"I have to admit, you're right."

The doctor placed his glasses down, stretching his hooves at the already lethargic work they have compiled. So far, the information they have consists of only the original roots of the Salii priests, finding out that they trace to the age when Celestia and Luna first ascended the throne and that they respected a god whose name was lost in the olden days. Caduceus was searching for more information on this 'god', while Stellar was pondering over their more recent endeavors, such as their possession of the Palgiot Blade, the bombings and the gathering of an army.

"Even a religious sect must've kept some sort of archive somewhere," he continued, leafing through the pages of approximately the fiftieth book, before tossing it aside like its predecessors.

Stellar just nodded half-heartedly, gazing down at the rapier he had recovered from the occult. Nostalgia tingled at the walls of his heart, the old colt remembering the days when he was a butler, serving the now defunct royal family. He could feel his veins constrict with hatred once he recalled the stallion's face; the mortal enemy that poisoned the minds of many and led the Palgiots to their downfall.

That pony wanted the Dreamscape technology, he remembered, which the Palgiots used for traversing and viewing, but not affecting, the events of the past, present and future. The last Patriarch had perfected it and would've proceeded to harness it for the good of Equestria if not for the events of the past year. Any other use was unthinkable, although it seems Janus had figured another use for it.

Whatever it was, the Dreamscape core was lost, broken in the fragments of time.

The colt let out a sigh: the nobility of a butler reduced to a pile of rubble. No wonder Sidus Sirenheart, a dear friend whom he had lost in last year's chaos, felt the way he did when Sicarius Nox was abolished, he thought to himself.

"Anything, Caduceus?" he asked.

"Nothing so far... hold on."

His friend squinted his eyes, scanning across the single sentence on the book, his jaw gradually falling. Stellar soon rushed up to his side, slowly muttering out the text on the page, before his eyes widened as well.

"There's no way..." Caduceus could only mumble.

"It must be a coincidence, right?"

"I don't think it's just a coincidence."

Everything seemed to fit in Stellar's head like a morbid jigsaw puzzle: the bombings, the priests, the blade. Stellar's frown darkened, glancing back at the rapier on the table, before turning to his friend.

"We have to let the Princesses know about this." he said, clutching his hooves hopefully and whispering to himself:

"He's back..."

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[Fury of the Tempest]

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