When Nightmare Moon escapes from her prison, six mares join together in a quest to stop her.
Long ago, the demon Nightmare Moon possessed Princess Luna. The resulting battle ended with Nightmare Moon being banished to a dream realm, but Luna was turned to stone in the process and Celestia lost her divine shell. A thousand years have passed when the seal containing Nightmare Moon breaks. Six mares are thrown together in a quest for both the Elements of Harmony and Princess Luna, who alone stands a chance against defeating the demon. Nightmare Moon isn't the only dark force at work and the six mares must venture far from home if they wish to win.
Long ago, upon the uniting of the three tribes, two alicorn sisters came from a far. Gifted with ageless immortality, the sisters took up the role of leadership. The eldest, Celestia, raised the sun each morn, setting it to make way for the moon while the youngest, Luna, was guardian of the night. Both were proud of their role. Nevertheless the night was still shunned by the nobility who remembered the tales of ponies cowering in the dark while a manticore stalked nearby. They both heard the whispers against Luna.
In despair, Luna began to be haunted by the Oneiroi, the dream demons and servants of Nocturne Lune, otherwise know as Nightmare Moon. The archdemon of fear began to visit her driving her awake until she would kill for sleep. Finally able to possess the body, the nightmare set out to bring her sister, Ignis Sol or Corona Flame, into the body of Celestia so that they could rule together.
In a desperate attempt to save her sister, Celestia called upon the Elements of Harmony to purge Luna. Unable to act against a fellow bearer, Celestia cut their ties with them and instead bound them to the royal student, a common unicorn called Dreamweaver.
Nightmare Moon managed to escape and claimed an assassination attempt on Luna, orchestrated by her sister, who wanted the throne to herself. For months she travelled Equestria, occasionally possessing ponies with the Oneiroi. Soon she had built a massive army to take Canterlot and claim the crown.
Celestia devised a cunning plan with the help of three mares, Dame Terra, the faithful earth pony knight, Dreamweaver and Sister Nox, a member of the Lunar clergy.
Pretending to admit defeat to the nightmare, Celestia offered to give herself to Ignis Sol as long as they ruled fairly. Although she was not going to honor the promise, Nightmare Moon agreed. While the archdemon was distracted by summoning her sister, Dame Terra mortally wounded her while Sister Nox called upon Luna. Angered, the nightmare attacked in a violent rage, however Luna, who had been trapped in a nightmare of her own, began to resist Nightmare Moon. Unable to attack both fronts, she was brought to her knees. Dreamweaver used the elements to banish Nightmare Moon to a realm of dreams.
However, the fighting cost Sister Nox her wings and Dame Terra her eyes. As a mortal, Dreamweaver was unable to solely wield the elements and turned both herself and Luna to stone.
Celestia herself was wounded by what almost was a fatal blow and no longer had a divine shell.
Still, if one believes in prophecies, there will come a time when the dream realms hold no longer, where blood be shed and effigies be freed.
Canterlot, the famed Jewel of Equestria, but just another cesspool of liars and thieves, like the rest of this sun damned kingdom. Here the liars might be powerful and wealthy and strutting about all legitimate, but I know what you really are. Heading them all is the queen of liars, Princess Celestia, pretending to be their benevolent and eternal ruler while in reality just a greedy mare who played the game. My sisters and brothers are gathering, sharpening their fangs on the bones of the fallen as we prepare to strike. Our true princesses’s sacrifice shall not be in vain. Excerpt from Bloodthorn’s log, third vampony commander of the Lunar force.
Pinkamena awoke to the loud buzzing of her alarm. She slammed her hoof down, effecting silencing it, before slipping out of bed. She carefully traipsed through the maze of sheet music, Musical instruments, paints, paintings, poems, novels, and emptied bottles of ink that made up her home, to reach the armoire. The armoire had been hoof made by Pinkamena herself, and it was quite impressive in a borderline terrifying way. The main part of it was the dark wood that grew in the Everfree but the panels were of the more reddish toned trees in the crossover between the Everfree and Whitetail woods. The panels depicted thousands of faces, all in near perfect detail, some she had seen before, others she’d only dreamt of. Great thorny vines entwined the heads. The handles were carved to look like twin sea serpents.
Pinkamena gave the small smile she always did when viewing her work before opening the door. From inside she withdrew a creamy wool sweater and a gray blue beret.
After she put it on , Pinkamena stopped at the vanity, which was a simple shelf, although overly carved with stars and vines, and a mirror engraved with prancing manticores, flying griffons, and howling timberwolves. She carefully brushed her mane, ensuring that its sleek style wasn’t disrupted, before replacing the beret.
Satisfied that she looked well enough to head out, Pinkamena brought along some bits to buy some food at work. The streets of Ponyville were empty, the majority of the residents likely taking advantage of the Sunday to sleep in. Pinkamena had no such luck, she was a service worker after all.
She was quite surprised when she saw Rarity pulling a cart, for several reasons.
One, Rarity often complained of a lack of beauty sleep and it was unlikely she’d be up this early, and two, Rarity was smiling under inches of grime.
The mare was dressed in warm clothes, her hooves in boots and a minute amount of rock cuts and crush precious stone were ingrained on her soles, she had likely been out in the gem fields.
“Pinkamena, how are you?” Rarity gave her a kind smile.
“Good, I notice you’ve been out in the gem fields, likely collecting supplies for the Equinox Festival?” Pinkamena replied in her monotone voice.
Rarity blushed. “You got me.”
“Hmmm, is that alexandrite?” She questioned
“Actually, yes, I managed to find some, quite lucky really.”
Pinkamena nodded. “I suppose I’ll see you later.” She trotted off, making a mental note to visit Rarity’s stall during the festival, it would be interesting to see what a fellow artist could use the unique stone for.
The Java Cafe stood across from Sugar Cube Corner. Inside were cushioned chairs and modern wooden tables and the constant noise of smooth jazz playing from an old record player.
The proprietor, Java, was wiping down tables, she looked up and smiled at Pinkamena. “Pinkamena, thanks for taking the early shift, Cappuccino is busy too busy sneezing his brains out.” Java looked fairly similar to Pinkamena, as long as one did not count coloration, for while Java had rich brown hair and a golden coat with green eyes, Pinkamena was shades of pink with bright blue peepers.
“No problem, is Latte here?” Latte was Java’s younger sister and Cappuccino’s twin. “I didn’t have time for breakfast so I brought some bits to buy some here.” She elaborated.
“Ah, she’s in the back.” Java pointed a hoof, before getting back to tidying up before the midmorning rush.
In the back kitchen where the pastries were baked, a cream coated mare with bushy waves tied mainly back in a ponytail, excluding a few strands, was removing a tray of hot buns from the oven, cursing as she did so. “Damn brother, gotta check the fuc…”
“Hey Latte, how are you?” Pinkamena interrupted, preventing a spew of foul words.
The mare turned, golden eyes lightening up when she saw her friend. “Better now,” she levitated the tray down on the counter before beginning to pry the buns off.
“Do you need help?” Pinkamena asked.
“Nah, Tea Leaf might though, she got a new order of Assam today and she’s freaking out for someone reason.” Latte tucked a milky brown strand of hair back from her face and then pointed to the storage room where her cousin was.
A slew of curses, far worse than what Latte had said, confirmed the unicorn’s words, and caused Pinkamena to see what was the matter. “Tea Leaf?” She questioned, hoping to prevent an incident.
“Hey Pink, guess what? Some nitwit messed up our order, we don’t have Assam, we have gutter tea, the kind of swill that one only brews when there’s nothing, including the toilet water.” The mint green maned mare moaned.
“Oh,” Pinkamena couldn’t really think of anything to say to that, she just stared at the pale green coated unicorn. “Just go, I’ll try to fix this, the rush is in an hour, I’ve got time.
Pinkamena nodded, still worried about what kind of tea could be so awful that the No-Tea-Is-Bad-You’re-Just-Crazy Tea Leaf would complain about.
***
Rainbow Dash scowled as a hoof shook her awake. “Go away!”
“No, you have to get up!” Her husband’s voice was firm and resolute. “I don’t want to!” She shot back.
He didn’t respond, instead yanking the covers back, and, when she curled in a ball to conserve warmth, pulling her out of bed. “That’s a low down trick, and you know it Soarin!”
Her husband responded by brutally tickling her until she was on the floor laughing. “I’ll, huh, get, huh, you, huh, for, huh, this.” She huffed out.
When she caught her breath she almost sucker punched him, but decided against, there were more devious ways to get revenge. “Come one, we have to get ready you know,” Soarin held out a hoof to help her up.
Rainbow accepted, but still shot him a glare for the violation of the no tickling agreement.
She made her way to the bathroom, ignoring the very large mess of pie tins that meant Soarin had finally caved on his diet, he’d last longer than she thought he would.
Once in the bathroom, she began the laborious task of preening. Not the once a week clean her wings, but the suds row wings up before rinsing off, getting each feather in perfect order before, rubbing a scented wax on them to keep them shiny and smelling good. She was just glad she’d had the foresight to take a shower last night, otherwise Rainbow knew this would take much longer.
After her wings were finished, Rainbow checked her hooves, thankfully the polish wasn’t chipped. Then she brushed her mane until it was sleek.
“Finished!” She called.
“About damn time, you’re slower than usual today!” Soarin complained.
She just rolled her eyes and sauntered out. From the closet Rainbow withdrew a neat dress in a red that looked professional while still making sure her wild side was known. She then took on the laborious process of fixing her hair so it didn’t look like she’d hacked it away with crazy scissors. Soarin exited just as she finished, his blue blazer bringing out his eyes.
She gave him a peck on the cheek. “You ready, they’ll mob us out there. The two youngest Wonderbolts in history, married and recently put back on reserve to spend more time together as well as writing the best selling book series, The Wonderbolts Chronicles.”
Soarin chuckled, “Honey, nothing terrifies me more than when a few guys attempted to mug me and you beat them into a coma.”
“Almost a coma, and, legally, that never happened, because it would be awkward to try and press charges against a national icon in clear self defense.” She huffed.
He just smiled.
The flash of light bulbs as they left their Canterlot home was blinding, but the pair was used to it by now so they just smiled and waved, hoping no one would notice the near murderous glint in their eyes.
The carriage waiting for them pulled away before Soarin even shut the door, speeding off from the reporters. “Damn reporters, practically parasites.” Rainbow Dash cursed, to the agreement of Soarin.
“I know what you mean love, at least this radio show will be with Marigold, she’s a good enough sort. Mornings With Marigold never seem like the vulture esque reporting of the tabloids or Canterlot Times, eh?” Rainbow rolled her eyes but kissed him all the same.
***
Rarity gave a little sigh as Sweetie Belle jumped up and down, mumbling all about earning her cutie mark and such.
“Sweetie Belle, do be quiet dear, this is delicate work.”
Sweetie Belle just groaned, “But Rarity,” she started.
“No buts dear, I love you, but if I can’t afford to finish off the mortgage on this house, we’ll be out on the streets and I can’t do that to you.” Her voice was calming enough that Sweetie Belle nodded along.
“I’ll go play with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom until you’re finished!” She cheerfully replied, cantering out the door.
“Be careful!” Rarity just hoped she’d listen for once.
‘Alexandrite was a tough jewel to work with for rune crafting.’ Rarity mused. While it did have certain properties that leant it to the art, the gem itself did not mold easily with magic, and it was a 8.5 hardness, which meant it took more force to chip away at. It was, however, valuable as it easily stored energy, making it invaluable for rune crafting just the same.
Rarity knew she had gotten lucky, finding a large block of it in the gem fields. The Equinox Festivalhad a series of booths where she could showcase her work and having something most rune crafters couldn’t do on display would surely bring in customers.
She began to chip away the edges of a disc shaped piece until it was symmetrical. Then came the rune scratching, delicate work, have to know just where the magic will flow and which directions so that she could properly set up a runic set.
When she’d finally finished, Rarity carefully polished it with a cleaning rag until it gleamed green in the sun, perhaps her luck would finally shape up. Carefully setting it in a ring of gold and attaching a fine chain, she draped it on one of the mannequin head’s neck.
***
Applejack groaned under the weight of her bags, each stuffed with herbs. The Everfree Forest was a positive treasury of rare herbs and medicinal plants. She made sure to avoid all paths leading from Ponyville, the vivid memory of a thrown tomatoes sinking into her coat dissuading her from any attempts to scour those parts of the woods for herbs.
The wind was stronger farther from the edges of the forest, a byproduct of the strange weather of the Everfree. Applejack gripped her cloak tighter, clutching at the worn fabric.
The dewdrop flower was well known only for its obscurity, it grew only in the inner Everfree and had achieved quite a place in pop culture. The zebras knew of it, as one of their alchemists had deemed it a fine substitute for several even rare potion supplies.
Zecora had instructed her on the harvesting of the flower, one had to take great care not break off the petals. While perhaps not as volatile when in contact with flame as say the volo leaf, the sap in the petals did not do well when directed added to potions. Each flower was carefully stowed in the saddlebags, which now resembled those of a flower peddler.
She made her way back to the hut she shared with her mentor, carefully avoiding the manticore dens and timberwolf hunting grounds The twisted tree in front of her certainly stood out, the decorative masks from Zecora’s homeland and the illumination from the half melted candles slumping in their own piles of wax gave it a comforting feeling to Applejack, although perhaps one who had grew up here was not the best example.
The door was well made, Applejack felt no small amount of pride as she stared at the strong entry she herself had built. She unlocked the complex lock with learned ease and sidled in. Inside the hut was made from well polished wood, with a staircase spiraling both up and down.
There was another door leading off from the mainroom, half hidden behind a pile of aconite. Several cauldrons lay stacked within each other by the long table to jutted out from the left wall. Zecora was in the middle, balancing on her head on a bamboo staff.
“Ahh, my student, what brings you back so soon?” Zecora asked in her native tongue before switching to balance on one of her hooves.
Applejack herself answered in common Equestrian, “I found all the ingredients we needed and felt it would be best not to push our luck and intrude on Ponyville.”
Zecora nodded, and than switched her language to Yaka, the language of the yaks. “Ahh, I see, how is Apple Bloom?”
Applejack gave an almost imperceptible wince at the reminder of the sister that thought her dead. She responded in Prench, “Good, she’s made friends.”
“Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, you’ve told me this.” Zecora reminded her in Germane.
“Ahh, I have haven’t I, oh well.” Applejack said in one of the less common griffin dialects.
“Indeed student of mine, perhaps your memory as been less than sublime.” Zecora switched back to Equestrian.
“Probably, but it has always slipped a bit when it comes to family,” her expression darkened, “I didn’t notice my brother for the no good traitor he was after all.”
“Perhaps, though it does us no good to argue on days since past. In other news, you’ve reached you next level of training at last.” Zecora smiled.
Applejack grinned at that, Zecora had become a mistress of many kinds of magic during her journey here, and, combining that with her zebra teachings, was instructing her on how to use her innate magic. She had promised when Applejack was ready, she’d teach her the art of alchemy, and the mare had patiently waited.
“Now, I will be instructing you in the most ancient tongue of the zebras, Zebric, as you’ve been lax in your studies of it and most texts on Alchemy will be written in it. Alchemy was once thought to be very similar to the innate magic of other species and considered something only zebras could do. This was proven false by the first earth pony potion master, Green Leaf. Alchemy is the art of transmutation, and is practiced through rituals. Alchemy cannot create without taking, this is otherwise known as the rule of equivalent exchange. I will warn you, it takes time and practice and, unlike your innate magic, you have to start from scratch.”
Applejack nodded, this should be fun.
***
Fluttershy smiled up at North Wind. North wasn’t like the other stallions, that attempted to bed her, he respected her feelings. They had yet to take it any farther than a few prench kisses, and he was willing to wait until she was ready.
“Fluttershy, I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” He started, an almost sheepish look on his face.
“Yes?” Fluttershy warmly smiled at him.
North took a death breath. “I love you, I really do. But lately you’ve been throwing yourself into all your charity work and it’s hurting you. You’ve barely slept in the past week, I know you’re concealing bags under your eyes darling. You’ve forgotten to eat or drink and this is the first real date we’ve had in months.” He sighed. “I can’t deal with the mare I love so much hurting herself in this way. I’m going to have to ask you to either give up your charity work, or, break up with me.” A tear had leaked out from his eye.
“But, I can’t!” She almost shouted, wincing as the rest of the restaurant gave their table a glance. “Do you remember they story I told you, about how that one bully purposefully rammed into me and snapped my wing?” She raised the appendage while speaking. North nodded. “Well yes, but.”
Fluttershy held up a hoof, “My dad snatched me up from Flight Camp in an instance, suing the colt for damage and getting him and his friends sent to juvie. They only jobs they could get were at the weather factory. To try and make up for not believing me on how bad I said it was, he took me Manehattan. While there I saw a foal, they were maybe my age, but thin as sticks. Their legs were twigs and I could count their ribs. I vowed then that I would never let another foal starve like that. Which means, I choose work, I’m sorry, I love you but I can’t give this up, not now, not ever.”
He nearly growled, “Then we’re finished” He sat up, Fluttershy paid the check, watching her now ex coltfriend leave.
She managed to make it back to her apartment without crying. It wasn’t easy, the streets of Canterlot now reminded her of North, there was the fountain where they had their first kiss, that was the restaurant where they had their first date. She barged into her apartment and collapsed, sobbing on the floor, barely remembering to close and lock the door behind her.
When she finally ran out of tears, Fluttershy carefully got to her hooves and made it to her bedroom. There she stripped out of her fancy dress and wiped out off her now ruined makeup. Her hair came down from the complicated bun and rested loosely on her shoulders. “Why North, why?” Fluttershy mumbled, staring blankly at the mirror.
She needed to get drunk and forget all about him.
After a search of the house of alcohol Fluttershy discovered she had none. So instead she did her best to eat through all her ice cream. When her stomach bulged and it hurt to breathe she dropped the container and began to cry again.
***
The train pulled into the station with a hiss. Twilight Sparkle looked up from her book. It was late, the engine had broken down and delayed her trip home, but she was here now. The few ponies in the car with her began to gather their things. Twilight just snorted at their disorganization and levitated her saddlebags back on. Book levitating in front of her, she left.
The night sky was just beginning to show, stars sparkling overhead. The streets of Ponyville were abandoned, ponies asleep behind their unlocked doors, dreaming. Her home, once the Golden Oaks Library, now a lab, was near the center of town, a fair walk away from the station. Opening the door gave brought a smile to her weary face, she was home.
Twilight had spent the last month in Trottingham, where scientists where revolutionizing magic. She stared down at the book in her bag, the reason for her trip.
Two months ago, Twilight had been in the Canterlot Records, searching for spell books to help her on her latest project. While she’d found them, she also had found several books that appeared to merely be old unicorn logs writing in runic magian.
She’d gotten permission to take them with her, as the guards rarely cared about the books, and had quickly discovered something, these weren’t old logs, they were coded texts.
The code was simple enough for Twilight to break, she was fluent in all versions of magian and most languages in Equestria, and the codes themselves was based off combinations of methods of all three tribes.
The books were journals, one from almost every great mage from Equestria and even some alicorns. It had been Princess Luna’s that had interested her. While Starswirl had focused on taking notes and more basic spell crafting, Luna was a master of magic. Her spell work was brilliant and there were annotations from all the royal students. It had been one topic that caught Twilight’s eye though, a regenerating spell matrix. Spell matrices were able to work multiple spells at once, but they were power hogs. A regenerating spell matrix would feed the power in loops to reuse it and cut down on the cost.
Twilight shook her head, she’d allowed her mind to wander. She needed to get to bed, otherwise who knew how long she would be up, besides, the materials from Trottingham wouldn’t get here until morning, Twilight had learned from experience that stasis spells, which could be delicate, held up better through the mail than through a bumpy train ride.
***
Vinyl Scratch sighed as she crept around in Canterlot’s shadows. For years she’d stayed away from such habits, they were stereotypical of a vampony after all, but she’d finally caved. The small animals in her bag would be suspicious of she was caught with them, but she needed to eat. Her last attempts with blood substitutes hadn’t gone that well, she shuddered slightly at the thought.
When she reached Ocatvia’s place, Vinyl carefully scaled the wall. She would never fly in a crowded city, but by staying out of the light she could utilize some of her other talents. When she reached Tavi’s window, she pulled out her picks and used her teeth to jimmy the lock open.
Ocatvia was oblivious to her, the gray mare always wore ear buds when practicing. Vinyl knew why of course, Ocatvia had been born to an old rock star from Stalliongard and a song write from here in Canterlot. Her parents had pressured her to be a rock star herself, but, while they loved each other, her dad’s high life style clashed with her mother’s sensibilities, and they fought a lot. Ocatvia had instead become a classical musician and was estranged from her parents.
Vinyl flicked away a tear, Ocatvia’s foalhood was a disturbing parallel to her own. She tapped her shoulder.
Ocatvia turned, bow raised, “Vinyl, you scared me, you should know not to do that by now.”
Vinyl shrugged, “You need better security anyways.” She carefully plucked a fat rat from her bag and began to drain it of its plasma. Octavia didn’t shudder, she’d long grown accustomed to Vinyl’s habits.
“Just don’t get it on the carpet.” She reminded the vampony and went back to her music.
Vinyl nodded, even though Ocatvia didn’t show signs of seeing and slumped to the kitchen. Blood cleaned off of tile much easier than carpet. She hungrily drank, the crimson liquid dripping down and she lapped it all up. When the rat was drained dry, she started on another until her stomach seem to hurt. She lapped up the blood on her muzzle and began to clean the floor, ignoring the hunger in her that wanted to lick it up. She glanced back at Ocatvia and slipped the rat corpses into her bag.
Vinyl’s room was better than her old place, not holes in the walls or free meals scurrying by. Ocatvia wouldn’t let the vampony live by herself in the slums after all. Still, as she carefully burned each corpse and tossed the ashes, there weren’t as many smokers here, and, since the low rat population of Upper Canterlot made seeing multiple rat corpses in one place strange, she lived in constant fear of somepony discovering her. She groaned as a sharp pain reminded her to get some rest while her stomach processed the blood. Vinyl curled up and drifted off.
***
Bloodthorn smiled as he felt the other vampony leave. He knew who they where, Vinyl Scratch. Vinyl was fairly young for a vampony, only fifty years, and a member of the neutral Circus de Lune clan. He had meet her once, at a party decades ago, but then she’d still been going by her birth name. He did however distinctly remember a blood wine induced rant on her parents. Both parents had taken advantage of her quietness as a child and imposed their own rules, classical lessons and old fashioned etiquette. It had apparently come to a head during Vinyl’s fourteenth year, her farther had attempted to arrange a marriage. He thought he was doing what was best for her, but she disagreed. In the resulting argument, he fired a silencing spell at her and then convinced her mother that Vinyl had messed up a vocal charm.
The unicorn mare was effectively under the total control of her parents for another year before snapping and running off. She went underground somewhere to get the spell reversed and came up a vampony, how was never quite mention.
A grunt shook Bloodthorn out of his monologue. The bound stallion at his hooves was struggling.
“Don’t bother you pervert, I mean really, your buddies and you attempting to abduct a minor after making certain innuendoes.” The blood red stallion furiously shook his head. “Don’t bother denying it, I can smell lies, and fear, but we both already knew you were afraid.” Bloodthorn bared a fang. “Now, your buddies might have made a good treat,” Bloodthorn’s eyes snaked over to the small fire in which two muscular corpses were burning, leaving behind no evidence of a vampony, “But you’ll be a main course for my mistress. She doesn’t really like you type.”
Hooking his hooves under the stallion’s joint, the pegasus rose up in the air before shooting off at Wonderbolt speed.
“Oh, and did I mention, my mistress is Madame Lamia, I’m sure you’ve heard about her.” The stallion's struggles increased, to no avail, as he thought of what the most feared vampony would do to him. It would not likely be pleasant in the least.
***
The spirit hummed as it, or rather she, banged against the barrier.
That little bitch and her friends may have been able to take me out of commission, but they’ll be long dead when I get out, and I doubt Princess Celestia is powerful enough to take me on without her divine shell.
The barrier between this realm and Equestria was weakening, she could feel it. For centuries she’d been trapped here, away from her sister, alone without her faithful servants. This place was a half formed thought of floating chunks of stone intermingled with streams of a bright pink liquid. Many of the stones had scorch marks and globs of a flesh like substance from the spirit’s attempts to create some form of company. It had been a rather boring one thousand years without it.
The seal is weakening, I really do wonder where it is, and where it will drop me. It would be unpleasant if Celestia had the foresight to place it in the middle of a desert. Still, wherever I appear, the vamponies will help me, and I’ll show the sun loving fools the terror of Nightmare Moon.
The art of Illusions was first discovered by Magus Mirage . (For more information on Mirage see The Rise of the Earth Pony Queen Rosebud) Her talent to manipulate a pony’s senses gained the Magus many followers later in her lifetime. By the time of Mirage’s death, seven different types of illusions had developed. Three paths would later vanish during the great Purge, along with countless other forms of magic, but the remaining four would survive. The four types of illusions are all well practiced except for the last, glamours. Excerpt from the History of Illusions by Quick Quill
Glamour smirked at the red stallion’s corpse on the bed. He’d been an easy mark, an arrogant stallion all alone at a crowded bar. Still, it was time to clean up the mess, she didn’t want the guards poking around. The tear she’d ripped with her fangs to drain him of his blood was hacked with a knife until the surrounding flesh was too mutilated to tell what had made it. Glamour then cast a simple blood replacement spell on him until the pool of blood surrounding him was reasonable enough, it would be suspicious to find a stallion with a stab wound without any blood. The cheap hotel room he had rented for the pair was trashed to mimic a fight.
She smirked at the total mess she’d created, but there was something she had to do. The hotel had been mainly deserted when she’d arrive with, whatever his name had been, but there was a mare working the front desk that had to be taken care of. Glamour cast a notice me not spell and stayed to the shadows to avoid the ponies in town for the festivals.
One would think they’d have high enough standards to not stay in such a crappy place, but I suppose their reason is overridden by bragging rights. Moon save me if I ever stay in a hole like this just to say, “I was in Canterlot for that!”
The mare was still at the desk, snoring slightly, she’d likely been forced to pull an all nighter, Glamour doubted a place like this would have enough staff for all the ponies in town.
“Excuse me?” She rang the bell with a simpering sweet smile on her face.
“Oh, yes dear?” The mare shook herself awake.
Glamour’s pupils and irises shifted to purple with pink spiraling around hypnotically. “You’ll forget I was ever here, the stallion I was with checked in alone.” She whispered in an alluring voice. “You were never here, the stallion checked in alone.” The mare’s eyes matched Glamour’s for an instant before she slumped back asleep. Glamour smirked as the spell did its work, she was done here. She shifted into a different disguise and disappeared among the ponies milling about.
***
Shining Armor stared at the corpse on the coroner’s table. “And you’re sure that these wounds were made during his death?” He looked at Quick Cut, whose graying mane did nothing to diminish his muscular build.
“Well that’s the problem, I can’t tell, the main wound is more decayed than the rest of the wounds, but the blood would suggest that the smaller wounds were made while he was alive, so I would assume this young stallion was alive when they happened.” The pegasus stallion carefully pointed at the deep cuts at the stallion’s throat.
Shining Armor nodded respectfully, “Well I suppose that’s that then, sorry for getting you worked up Quick, just a hunch.” Quick Cut nodded, he was already pushing the stallion back into storage.
Shining Armor exited, keeping his strides even as he made his way back to his two soldiers.
“So, was your hunch right?” Flash Sentry questioned.
“Probably, look at the way he took careful strides to look casual instead of his usual military march.” The gray earth pony mare commented.
Shining Armor rolled his eyes at this. “Yes Data, my hunch was right, now please stop analyzing me!”
She just blinked at him for a bit.
Flash looked around, eyes nervously darting across every inch of the hallway. “So, what you’re saying is that it’s another vampony, are you sure? I mean the two stallions found in the alley were obvious victims of one, but this one has no evidence. We don’t want to cause panic.”
“Flash, have you heard of Glamour, one of Lamia’s right hoof ponies?” Flash shook his head, face shocked at the mention of the most infamous vampony alive. “Well, Glamour is a powerful illusionist with a talent for mental magic. This looks like her work, a lone stallion suddenly leaves a bar and is found dead in a cheap hotel room across town the next morning.”
Data frowned. “But most reports of her are corroborated with the desk ponies, they all say the stallion was with a beautiful mare.”
Shining sighed, “That’s the thing, normally she wouldn’t bother with erasing a pony’s memory, her illusions keep her safe enough. But, in the past month, the amount of vampony attacks has increased across Equestria.”
“Wait, shouldn’t we be discussing this in the war room, where we can’t be spied on.” Flash asked.
Shining shook his head, “I don’t trust anypony there and I can’t get a private space for just a chat, I have a theory, the vamponies are preparing for something big, maybe on the Equinox Festival. The brass doesn’t agree, they just think the vamponies are getting restless and we should crack down on them, as if they didn’t learn their lesson after the incidence.” Both of his soldiers winced at the mention of the infamous event.
“So, what should we do?” Flash was nervous, understandably so.
Shining patted him on the shoulder, “Just keep your head down and your eyes open and everything will be fine.” He didn’t need to add the unspoken words, I hope.
***
Applejack awoke to the sound of a clanging pot. “Get up my pupil, you have much work to do.” Zecora commanded in one of the old dragon tongues. “Yes ma’am.”
Apparently, work meant balancing on a pole with only one hoof, while Zecora brewed potions at a scalding temperatures. Applejack had to keep her wits about her, or otherwise she was in danger of falling into the boiling pot, which would likely severely burn her.
“Are you sure this is safe?” She asked.
“My dear, you have little to fear. You may have to use this skill in greater danger still.” Zecora replied.
Applejack didn’t quite agree with that, while Zecora may be able to mediate on the pole for hours on end without falling, she most certainly couldn’t!
Deep breaths, remember that, don’t let yourself become imbalanced.
She sighed, remembering the words Zecora had spoken to her years ago when she’d first learned of Big Mac’s betrayal. She’d been so angry she had wanted to break his bones, but Zecora had reminded her that she might regret it later, when Apple Bloom saw her as a monster, although she’d said it in nicer words for the then filly.
“Why am I meditating on a pole again?” Applejack questioned her mentor after her hoof began to ache from the pressure. “Alchemy is an art of balance and reflection, one must know themselves first, not in retrospection.” Zecora replied in Zebric.
Applejack scowled, Zecora had been repeating that all morning. “But that’s not it, you never let me learn a lesson that easily, I have to work for it.” Zecora just smirked, confirming Applejack’s hunch. “Aha, so, this is likely more about me gaining control over my body and mind, because, if I remember correctly from yesterday’s lecture, an alchemist can be consumed by their power if they get too distracted or make a wrong glyph.”
Zecora smiled. “Yes, student of mine, that answer was practically quoted line by line. Now I have a gift for you, a book set and you can have two.” “All right, what do I need to get the next one?” Applejack asked, well aware of Zecora’s tactic of baiting and then asking for a favor. “You just have to get me some ingredients from Canterlot.” Zecora's replied in a camel language.
“That’s all, really?” Applejack questioned.
“Well, there is also the issue of having to go on the Equinox Festival, and that several of these ingredients are quite rare and therefore expensive, but yes, that is all you have to do.” Zecora assured her student in the main Saddle Arabian dialect.
Sure, just like the trip to Baltimare where I had to trek across the city to find herbs from Camelidae. Applejack thought, but she was most certainly not stupid enough to say that out loud, Zecora could easily take away the reward for this task.
***
Flash gave Data a glare. “I thought we were just supposed to keep our eyes open.” His gray coated companion didn’t reply, although he supposed that was kinda of hard when one was stirring some dangerous chemical mixture. Data gave it satisfied look before turning to him.
“If I am to combat some vampony disaster I need the proper tools. Not only that, but certain measurements require large funds and should I choose to utilize my bits for these precautions, I would like to be certain this was indeed a vampony attack.” She brushed an ebony colored strand of hair back as she lectured him.
Flash began, “What idiot would fake a vampony attack?”
Data tilted her head, “Three years ago, a black magic syndicate faked a series of vampony attacks, doing things such as using certain chemicals to replicate the ability of vampony salvia to preserve flesh for months or years to make it more authentic. They sold the blood to illegal practitioners of the dark arts. They only managed to catch them when an archeologist proved the blood didn't have the same magical signature as vampony salvia.”
Flash was confused, “Ok, but doesn’t that require magic?” He asked the earth pony mare.
She gave him a look that anypony could read, seriously, that’s what you take away?, but answered his question nevertheless, “There are chemical substitutions for such a spell.”
Flash paused, “Oh, I guess that's logical.” Almost too logical, Data’s habit of overthinking even a simple order as, “Keep your head down and eyes open.” spoke of a far deeper problem.
“Pass me the q-tip.” Data commanded, holding out a ready hoof.
Flash dropped the cotton tipped stick in her outstretched hoof.
She dipped it in the crimson vial she had him swipe from the morgue. Data then let a single drop of the chemical mixture hit the blood soaked up from the swab. The tip turned a bright blue that bleed down to the plastic.
“So if there is a way to detect if a vampony has bitten a pony, why don't they just pump out the blood?” Flash questioned.
“Hmm, surprisingly that's a logical question.” Data commented.
“Thanks, hey!” Flash exclaimed.
“Well, the answer is quite simple.” Data ignored Flash’s exclamation. “Vamponies are incapable of consuming blooding without a specific chemical that can be found in their saliva. While some vampiric sub species exsanguinate the victim through the use of a pump and spit in it, most are utterly incapable of keeping in control around blood. A few notable vamponies have hired ponies to do that work for them, most are don't trust other equines enough for it.”
“That was fairly simple for you.” Flash told her. “I still have one more question though, what are you going to do with the rest of that solution?”
Data gave him a predatory smile, “Why, my dear friend, I’m going to make bombs of course.”
***
Maize ran her cream coated hoof through her flaxen colored mane,making its wild appearance wilder still. The throne room, as all vamponies from the thralls to the admirals were required to call it, emanated an air of opulence and terror that seemed dedicated to the throne’s occupant. The windowless walls were adorned with murals dedicated to vamponies and the suffering of their lesser relatives, the ponies. Thick columns with a cherry red lacquer supported to roof, which arched up into an array of lights that lit up the still rather dim room. Not that Maize or anyone else was complaining, vamponies preferred the dark. The floor was made from a dark marble
The main part of the throne room was of course, the throne. Flanked by crimson drapes, the throne itself was not much more than a well carved piece of cherry wood with elegant gold filigree and shimmering rubies embed like drops of dark blood rolling down the sides. It was, however, raised on a four marble steps so that one could glare down at the snivelling masses from the seat. Beside it was a gilded goblet from which the scent of blood wine arose.
Blood wine, even the name made Maize’s nose sniff at the air in a futile attempt to find a drop of the elixir. How blood wine was made was a select art known only to a few enthusiasts and necromancy covens, both groups crossed paths more than anypony cared to admit. Had it not been for self control taught through years of punishments, Maize likely would have shoved her mistress aside and gulped the goblet’s contents down. She had no clue as to why her mistress could stand to have a goblet full of the stuff nearby and still take only small sips.
“Hem hem.” She’d forgotten who stood besides her, Bloodthorn, a loyal if arrogant pegasus. “I was wondering when Glamour would be arriving.”
Their mistress spoke, her voice deep and sultry, “I sent her out on a, uh, private mission.”
Madame Lamia was clothed in what first appeared to be silken funeral shroud from centuries long past, it’s color a brilliant red to signal a pony of importance. When a pony looked closer they could, however, see the mother of pearl clasp and understand it was little more than a decorative cloak.
A flash of light alerted her to somepony attempting to teleport into the room, Maize flicked out her hoof blade, steadying it to kill what fool, oh, it was Glamour. At least, she assumed the mare was Glamour, the blue maned mare had quickly made her hooves into the symbol only she and the other two admirals plus Madame Lamia knew.
“Glamour, I assume you brought back my blood wine?” Maize and Bloodthorn both gave a start, they knew that, as the only vampony besides their mistress who didn’t go crazy for blood or blood wine that Glamour brought back bottles of the stuff.
“Yes milady,” They all knew Glamour was old, perhaps not exactly how old, but still, old, and it sometimes seeped into her language.
“Good, after all, we wouldn’t want to be held up by something like a little daylight, would we?” The three admirals shook their heads, no, they wouldn’t.
***
The statues had been in the ruins for a long time, no of the locals knew how long, they seemed to be centuries old. One depicted a youthful unicorn mare whose face was deep in concentration, as though casting some tricky spell. The other mare appeared to be an alicorn, although the locals, simply called it the winged unicorn or the horned pegasus. While the unicorn statue was standing on her hind legs, the alicorn statue was lying down, all peaceful like, except for the wide open eyes, frozen in fear. And had any of the locals been brave enough to stare the statue in the eye, they might have heard Luna screaming from somewhere inside her petrified form.
And so, the great wizard said to his foes, “You foul demons, I banish you back to the dimension of evil from which you crawled.” The demons did not reply for they were simple beasts who knew little of the ways of ponykind and instead tore the wizard apart, because for all his arrogance he was still a simple hedgewizard and they were still the servants of the Arch demons. Excerpt from the Perils of Demons, author unknown
Twilight Sparkle woke up to the smell of burning bread. “Whaaat?” She moaned. A small unicorn filly with bright green eyes and an alabaster coat trotted into her range of vision.
“Hiya Twilight, you were asleep so I made breakfast, but I kinda sorta burnt the toast.” Sweetie Belle looked sheepish. Twilight sighed, she knew she would regret giving the filly a key to the lab but those eyes were just irresistible, she had no clue how Sweetie Belle wasn’t the most spoiled foal in Equestria.
“I’ll fix it.” Twilight had learned enough from watching the filly to know that fixing her meals generally entailed starting over again. “Hey, does your sister know where you are?”
Sweetie instantly looked guilty. “Well, she knows I’m around town.”
“Sweetie Belle! Go home and tell her next time, it was sweet to try and make breakfast,” although almost burning down the lab with burnt toast wasn’t all too smart, “but I can’t let you be here without her permission.” She gave a shudder at the last time Sweetie had conned her way into spending time here without permission, it had taken weeks for her eardrums to return to normal.
Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue but excited, leaving Twilight to ponder why in the world she had fallen asleep on a hard floor of the front room instead of her comfy bed upstairs. Looking around she noticed papers scattered about.
I’m an idiot, I stayed up so late that I just feel asleep down here.
It wasn’t the first time it had happened and Twilight seriously doubted it would be the last. She pushed herself up and headed towards the kitchen.
The kitchen of the Golden Oak was rather nice. It had been built in the ample space behind the main room, with a tall ceiling whose skylight made it feel all warm and cheery. The wood was all laminated of course, and while most of the time yellowing laminate just looked tacky, this time it made the wood look much warmer. It was stocked with the latest in magilectric tech, because Twilight could never help immersing herself in science.
It was, of course, a complete mess because whoever had taught Sweetie Belle to cook was not right in the head. Still, Twilight had made far worse messes, the thought of her experiments with truly permanent glue still haunted her, and so it was fairly simple to clean. She dropped the blackened toast into the trash can, wiped down the batter spilt all over the floor, tossed out the fruit that was in something resembling a salad and cleaned off the inch of flour on the counter.
Thankfully, Sweetie Belle had stayed away from the hay bacon and veggie sausages and Twilight started to fry them up, the sizzling scent filling the room. She poured water into a kettle, setting it on the stove to boil while simultaneously toasting some bread, making sure it turned out a nice golden brown.
She carefully siddled the bacon and sausage onto a porcelain plate, and coated the top of the toast with butter. A whistling alerted her to the kettle and she poured the now scalding hot water into a chipped cup, already dropping a tea bag in as the last dregs dripped in. The smell was heaven sent, flowery and fruity and the green tea, oh! She dropped in a perfectly sliced lemon slice and just the right amount of sugar cubes. It took a great deal of Twilight’s self control not to gulp the whole meal down, she didn’t really remember doing much eating yesterday.
As she took carefully portioned bites interspersed with sips of tea, Twilight summoned her mail.
Hmmm, not much more than a few bits of junk mail, some advertisements, a letter from a fan, twenty letters from “concerned citizens” and one from…...Shining!
The letter from her brother was inside a deceptively simple envelope made from some expensive imported paper. Opening released the scent of steel polish and Shining's cologne. The letter inside was made from the same paper as the envelope and a message was written in her brother’s neat hornscript.
Dear Twilight, It has come to my attention that, despite the five years worth of letters you have sent me extolling the wonders of spending the holidays with Mom and Dad, you have actually not attended a single one since moving to Ponyville. First off, shame on you for taking advantage of my rigorous schedule! Not only have I received a harsh scolding, but Mom had to attend counselling because her worries on you becoming reclusive brought back her hives and sleeping issues! Two, you have no good reason not to go! Your work is not more important than family time missy! If, perhaps, you had friends to spend holidays with, I could understand, but staying in Ponyville because you don’t want to make the trip back is inexcusable. I expect you in town tomorrow for the Equinox Festival or else!
With Love, Your B.F.B.B.F. Shining Armor
She groaned at the letter. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to visit her family, it was more that in Canterlot, ponies knew who she was. A glance at her cutie mark was all it would take for a series of taunts, jabs and harassment to begin. She couldn’t tell him that, being the noble stallion he was Shining would attempt to intervene only for the Nobles, who already disliked the idea of a commoner captain, to accuse him of nepotism. But Twilight knew her brother would never let her forget not going.
“Well,” She said to no pony at all, “I guess I could always wear my peacoat.”
***
The rumor that the Pie Family was part dragon had been started by Picaxe, a rival rock farmer, two hundred years prior. While the majority of the paper was supported by rumors and half truths, he had made some interesting points. The Pies were able to eat rocks and gems with even less difficulty than the average earth pony, they did have an affinity for heat, and, most damning in his eyes, they guzzled hot sauce, chili peppers and all spicy food like it was as bland as his mother's gruel.
Pinkamena was most certainly a Pie, and so, she wouldn’t take her coffee without a specially made bottle of hot sauce and ghost chili pepper extract, imported from dragon territory. Expresso, one of her fellow cafe workers, had once tried her coffee and spat it out, eventually having to chug three glasses of milk to remove the taste from his mouth.
She chugged her mug without hesitation, washing the fiery burn down with a pastry. The cafe was closed today to do, well, actually she wasn’t quite sure why it was closed but it had something to do with a cup of tea, a very rude customer and a scarily angry Tea Leaf. Pinkamena had decided she’d paint on her off day, there was an annoyingly empty section of her bedroom wall she’d been meaning to fill with something. Her paints were out, along with several brushes in varying sizes and shapes, water to clean said brushes, and plates for mixing colors.
After an hour or so of staring at the blank space, a vivid vision of the night sky came to her. Oh, and how wonderful the color was, periwinkle and lavender dusting a backdrop of violet and a deep blue. The moon was a perfect circle set in the center of the sky, the craters arching almost like a mare’s silhouette. But the perfect stars, each a dazzling jewel shining up were the real, well, stars. She began to lose herself in the painting.
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done this either, she’d lost three days building the armoire, when she had woken up, instead of some wooden planks was a perfect piece of furniture decorated with detailed faces covering almost every surface. This was a shorter one, Pinkamena was just starting to blend the paints when she suddenly realized it was hours later and she had a complete masterpiece. The night sky was an almost exact copy of the same one she’d fallen asleep beneath last night. There was something different, a single constellation missing, the Alicorn. In it's place just above the moon were six star line up in a perfect row, each with a unique color ranging from red, to pink , to blue. If she looked closer, each appeared less like a star and more like some indecipherable symbol.
Still, there was just something so right about it she couldn’t change it. Pinkamena turned to clean up the mess, only to find it perfectly clean. Not just the paint supplies either, the entire house was now neat, not a single paper out of place, and, despite not remembering doing any of it, Pinkamena knew exactly where everything was.
That’s never happened before. That one thought bounced around in her head like a tennis ball. She’d woken up with her entire body covered in paint splatters or with some new sculpture sitting on a table, but never had she ever cleaned up in her fugue state, it just didn’t happen.
Pinkamena gave herself a shake, it was frightening, really scary. The creative state she sometimes entered had always had certain rules it abided, and if it broke rules, she could wake up a national criminal or worse, never wake up at all.
She entered her kitchen, and opened a seldom used cupboard. Inside was nothing more than a bottle of liquor and plastic bottle of pills. Her hoof hovered over the liquor, but no, that would just make things worse. Pinkamena glanced behind her. There was a testament to why she couldn’t drink, a gray alicorn esque figure being enshrouded with a rainbow of orange, purple, pink, red, blue, and magenta. Her state really liked those specific colors for some unidentifiable reason.
Turning back to the cupboard, Pinkamena picked up the small bottle of pills and dropped two into her outstretched hoof. She went into her bedroom and, laying underneath the sheets, dropped both in and sank into the wonderfully sweet release of sleep.
***
Rarity was in a very bad mood. “Sweetie Belle, I’ve told you millions of times not to go to Twilight’s without my explicit permission!”
Instead of the guilty look she’d been hoping for, Sweetie Belle gave her an indignant stare. “You’ve only told me sixty three times Rarity. AND I did ask if I could into town.”
“Sweetie Belle, sixty three times doesn’t make much of a difference to my point.” Rarity told her.
“Still not a million.” Sweetie still refused to look guilty.
Rarity shook her head, one day that filly would hopefully understand how hard raising her was and perhaps than she’d appreciate it. “That’s beyond the point! And, you told me you were going into town. You said absolutely nothing about visiting Twilight! Do I need to get you another dictionary with explicit highlighted?”
This finally got some sort of rise out of her little sister, although she couldn’t tell if it was guilt shame or anger. Perhaps a mix of both. “No” She grumbled.
“Good.” Rarity was pleased, hopefully Sweetie would behave better in the future. She began to turn away.
“I still want to know why I can’t visit her without permission!” Sweetie shouted.
Rarity gave a start. “It’s because sometimes Twilight does dangerous experiments and I want to know where you are and she wants to make sure I know where you are so she doesn’t get in any trouble.” She lied. That wasn’t it at all, the real reason was the rumors that floated about once or twice in Canterlot about her, rumors that made Rarity nervous to have her little sister around the mare. Twilight knew she didn’t like it but was gracious enough to only have Sweetie around with permission, which was far better than most would do in her position.
“Oh, well can I go see her now?” Sweetie Belle brightened at the logical answer.
“No Sweetie, if you had asked before you could have but you didn’t. Perhaps you should visit Apple Bloom or Scootaloo instead, don’t you have some crusading to do?” Although the filly darkened at not be able to visit Twilight, she seemed much happier when Rarity mentioned instead visiting one of her fellow crusaders. She left in a blur.
“Thank Celestia for her friends.” Rarity told herself. She turned to her desk, where, among several things, magazine was opened to specific articles. The picture below the headline was a black and white cutie mark, made colorless in an attempt to protect the owner’s identify. Not that that mattered, it was a one of a kind mark, Rarity saw it at least once a week. The picture was just above a prominent line , “Now that the magical terror of the Royal Academy for the Magically Talented has reached majority, will any preventive measures be taken to stop another incident?” She closed the magazine, tearing her eyes away from the photo of Twilight’s cutie mark.
***
It had taken Fluttershy a day and a half to finally drag herself out of her apartment. Still, she wore large sunglasses to hide her reddened eyes, her messy mane was concealed in a ponytail and she made special care to avoid any of North’s usual hang outs.
It wasn’t by choice she left either, the charity ball was soon and she had to get everything ready. The Equinox Charity Ball had been a tradition since long before Fluttershy’s birth and would likely continue long after her death. Exactly who started it was disputed, but the point remained that twenty five years ago, the first ball was held and the tradition had continued, each year a different philanthropist was chosen to plan it.
It had been so exciting to be chosen, and she had been so happy to share it with North, and that appeared to be his breaking point. She shook her head out of the memories of her ex, she had work do.
The Equinox Charity Ball was being held in one the palace ballrooms, and already it was quite a sight. Banners hung down from the ceiling and from the pillars, ornamental statues and impressive flower displays were visible all throughout the room and the stage for the band to play was all ready, the instruments waiting for their owners’ hooves to pick them out and pull sweet music from them.
“Perfect,” she whispered to herself. And indeed it was, only the most decayable of decorations and the ice statues were not in their place. The food was not either, but she could smell the cooking from where she stood and it was rather enticing.
“Fluttershy dear, it’s simply marvelous to see you here!” Fluttershy turned to see Checklist, her assistant, trotting to her.
“Oh Checklist, it’s nice to see you too!” She brightly responded.
The acid green mare gave a confused glance, “Really, so you haven’t been moping around the house after North broke up with you?” she punctuated the last word with a piercing look.
“Oh, you heard about that.” Fluttershy gave an embarrassed mumble.
“Yes I have and I think he’s being such a jerk about the whole thing, he oughta know how much charity means to you by now.” Checklist gave a reassuring smile.
“I just miss him so much.” That smile broke through Fluttershy’s barriers and sent her sobbing into the kind hooves of Checklist.
“There there,” The blue maned unicorn gave a glare at any of the curious looks shot to them by the workers. “If that fool gives you up not only is he not the stallion you thought he was but he is also far dumber than I thought.”
Fluttershy’s sobs began to dissolve into dry heaves until she was too tired for that and just laid enwrapped in Checklist’s hooves. After what felt like hours but was likely just a few minutes she pulled herself out and adjusted her sunglasses to better hide her even redder eyes.
“I have work to do.” She gave Checklist a wane smile.
“I know dearie, oh I know.” The unicorn mare returned the smile, already leading her to the kitchen.
***
The three spies descended from the sky like great monsters wooping in on their prey. Each was enshrouded with magic to disguise themselves from the average pony eye.
Glamour stood waiting for them, her hoof boredly tapping the stone floor. “Well?”
The first stepped forward, her disguise disintegrating to reveal a pegasus mare with blue fur, gold eyes and a rose mane. “Ma’am, currently Shining Armor has shared his ideas with two others, both low level guards.”
Glamour raised an eyebrow, “Well, would I be wrong to assume you have their records?”
“No ma’am. Flash Sentry,” She threw a folder with a picture of a handsome pegasus stallion pinned to it. “ His father was a soldier, his mother a drunkard. He disappeared at the age of sixteen and reappeared two years later, now a guard. It’s likely he was involved in several undercover operations in enemy countries, although nothing confirmable.” She then threw down another folder, the picture on this one of a glaring mare. “Data, happy childhood up until the age of ten when she discovered her mother’s mutilated body. The killer was never found and her father turned to drugs to forget it. She and her sister were adopted by their grandparents, but at the age of fifteen, her sister disappeared, no evidence on that case. When Data turned sixteen she disappeared into the RIA, like Sentry we have no evidence of her work there, but she also appeared two years later.”
“Hmm, perhaps the events are connected.” Glamour mused. “ Well, in any case, thank you for this, you can go for your meal now.” The pegasus grinned before disappearing into the catacombs.
“Well, now that she’s gone, you two have anything else, on your special assignments?” Glamour’s demeanor instantly shifted into a far more serious one.
Both removed their own disguised, revealing a handsome earth pony stallion and a comely unicorn mare. Both were in full vampony mode so they could fly. The unicorn mare spoke first, running a hoof through her silky black mane, “Well, the Circus de Lune is unlikely to be able to gather enough troops if we attack, and there aren't any other major covens in Canterlot, too much restriction. Also,” She dropped her voice down to a whisper, “The Canterlot Vault we want in will be unprotected during the festival, you can get in then.”
“Thank you Sharp Eyes,” The white mare grinned at the acknowledgement. “Do you have anything for me, Quick Blade?”
The brown stallion gave a wince of pain as he rubbed a burn on his hoof. “Sorry, I was flying over some itty town, Ponyville maybe?, when the warding on some tree house cut off the disguise on the hoof that floated over it. Nopony saw me but it was during the day and I was flying so..” He trailed off but the others got the meaning.
“I have some cream you can have, but first, your mission?” Glamour questioned.
“Right, well, the filly definitely has the gift, although she doesn’t know it yet. Also,” He reached into his saddle bag. “I may have found something interesting, when I flew over that town, I picked up bursts of harmony magic, it’s possible some bearers of the elements might live there, maybe your theory about Celestia not scattering the elements but rather picking bearers in case they were needed was actually correct.”
Glamour shook her head “No, I have evidence it wasn’t. Likely it was just possible bearers, but still, good work!” She’d found reassurance helped to keep the two on her side. The trio headed into the catacombs, none of their kin the wiser about what they were really doing.
***
Nightmare Moon glared at the cracks of her prison, she had pounded at them for days to no avail. Although days did not seem much when compared with centuries, the closer she got to freedom the harder it was to wait. She was so close and therefore she wanted to leave so badly.
Nightmare Moon whacked herself against the cracks, not caring for any damage done to herself, because once freed she’d have access to her full range of magic not the pathetic parlor tricks she’d been restricted to here.
She felt something brush against her leg and, in her typical anger, shot a blast of magic to fast to recall her power. Instantly, she regretted it, whatever had brushed against her would likely be no more than dented and she’d have a headache for days for attempting to use such magic. To her surprise, no headache came, and when she turned around, there was nothing but clouds of dust.
Haha, they might have been able to keep me locked up in here for a bit but my magic has returned.
Part of her wondered if she should just stay by the cracks, gathering power until she could break free easily, but no. Celestia would likely expect her to do that. It wasn't like there was a prophecy foretelling her return, now was there?
