What would you do to be brave, courageous, or kind? For one mare she will save the world, or that is what she wants to do; but she can't do it alone, and that is where her friends come into play. Her new friends.
(First Person)(Mythical Timeline) What would you do to be brave, courageous, or kind? For one mare she will save the world, or that is what she wants to do; but she can't do it alone, and that is where her friends come into play. Her new friends.
Night Zone will need to be strong when a certain, ancient, enemy returns. She has the help of her friends, or does she? She, however, does all within her power to achieve her dream: to be a hero. Is she alone, or does she have the aid of her friends?
I wake with a yawn, and I can’t help but notice that I had tossed the blanket onto the floor, again. I grumble as I reach over to pick it up. It is soft to my touch, and when I move it to my face I smell nothing but oil.
Oil? Why does it smell of oil? I let it sit on my face as I continue to ponder over it. It isn’t until I remember that I helped oil a foal’s scooter yesterday and hadn’t bothered cleaning myself off. It must have stained, or at least covered the blanket with some oil. I grumble and think to myself, great, now I have to clean it a few days early.
Well, regardless. I stumble to my hooves. It was time to get up, no matter how much I wanted to revel in my bed, about: whatever it is I want to revel about on this particular morning. I trudge my morning legs to the door of my room.
My room, the second from the entrance of this compound apartment building’s second floor, is not far from the door out. It isn’t the only room here of course. A kitchen with the basic supplies: stove, sink, refrigerator, and some cabinets. A dining room with… well, a table; it is for dining there isn’t much else we do in there. Next is the small living quarters, also known as a room of living (though I keep getting told I say it wrong). It has all the things anypony could ever wish for: a couch, and a chair or two. Finally there is the bathroom… no reason to get into that.
I make my way into the kitchen where I begin to scrounge around for a pot, skillet, or really anything that can be heated up for some oats. It takes a long while but I eventually find a small skillet with high walls, perfect for making oats into a meal. The metal skillet, while it has a yellow enamel coat on it, is a nice charred black underneath. I fill up the skillet with water to the halfway point, before placing it onto one of the stove burners.
If I had lived on a farm, I would most likely have a wood-fed iron stove; but because I don’t, I have the non-standard pump stove. It takes electricity and makes you push a pedal to keep the power going. And I can even set the stove to keep the burners at a certain heat level. Though I generally only use it at one of the lowest settings.
I start to pedal the pedal. And after a few minutes I notice the water starting to boil. I take a moment away from the wood pump to add in the oats, though, like everything else, I end up needing to look for them. Turns out they had been trying to hide on the top shelf of the farthest cabinet from.
Each cabinet is colored. My neighbor, who is more of a roommate, went and colored each one of them a different color. I believe it was acrylic paint, but I’ve never been into paint… leaving me without a clue of what it could be. But the cabinet closest to the room of living, the room one has to go through to make their way into the kitchen, was a simple red. The next, in order, are yellow, blue and finally green (green being were the food is mostly stored).
I am glad that I am a unicorn; otherwise, it could have been so much harder to reach the oats. After I confirmed that the oats are, in fact, in the water; I begin to pump hoof-to-the-metal. I pump and pump all to keep the heat flowing at the correct temperature. Even though it gets a max output for the heat—based off of the dial chosen—it has an almost unlimited input. As far as battery goes, it doesn’t have anything in the slightest. Storing the power in some sort of electrical matrix isn’t possible.
As the water and oats fix slowly attach and become something new. I notice that my roommate was standing by the door, I hadn’t even noticed him. He can be really quiet at times; and sometimes, especially at night, he can make many-a-pony jump witless.
“You’re not taking the stove apart are you?” he asks with a yawn, clearly having just gotten up. He mumbles a little more, but much quieter. “We don’t need to buy a new one… again, since it would be the third one we’d have to buy… this month.”
“Well, not entirely no. I am simply making some meal of oats.”
He gives a pained groan and is silent for a moment before speaking again. “It’s called oatmeal. Is it that hard to remember? Oatmeal!”
“No, it isn—”
“Then get it right!” he shouts, clearly far more awake than he was moments ago.
I am rather used to this. He has a strong distaste for ponies saying things wrong. Before I can say anything else, I notice that the oats are at the perfect point. I telekinetically lift the skillet, and grab a few bowls to put the meal of o—the oatmeal into.
Like most other stuff our bowls are colored as well, and exactly like the cabinets; they are all primary, and basic colors. I pour until the bowl is a little over half-filled, my normal amount. I search around until I find two spoons, and set the extra one into an empty cup.
After having set the skillet back onto the stove, away from the burner, I place the other bowl onto the floor by the stove. I make my way into the room of living before heading to the left to the dining table—a large mahogany table with a smooth finish, double-layered, that can easily seat seven or eight.
“Yours is on the floor if you want it. Just fill the bowl,” I say lazily. I know that it is a little mean, but if I wasn’t so familiar with him, then I would have offered to pour.
“I’ll pour my own, thanks,” he says. Soon enough he comes into the room of living, before turning to the right—where the entry room is—he changed his mind and strolled to his bedroom. With a soft pat the door closed behind him.
I shrug and lift my spoon with my magic. But with the amount of practice I have done with using my telekinesis, the spoon might as well have been weight of a ton. “I can lift a skillet, but not a spoon,” I mumble a complaint to myself as I pick a spoonful up and bring it to my mouth.
I sit there and continue to eat. I think about my dream. A great dream. A dream that can be done by any and everypony. I wanted to be a heroine, somepony who goes and helps others at the cost of myself. I sigh. “Why is it the meal of oats tastes like cream of wheat?”
Maybe it would be better to say banana flavored. How, though? I added just the oats; yet it has gained the flavor of bananas. “How bizarre,” I proclaim with a certain level of vigor matched only by a snail.
I start to grow tired of waiting. So I use my magic to lift the bowl as well, and I’d be lying if I say I didn’t drop the spoon, taking the spoon in my grasp again. I begin to shuffle the food down. I stuff Bite after bite into my cheeks. I can swallow once I get the rest in; by the time I empty the bowl, my cheeks, and consequently my mouth, are stuffed to the brim with meal of oat.
When I attempt to swallow I run into the slight problem of my mouth being a little too stuffed. As a result, the food gushes out of my mouth, almost as if I was vomiting, and lands sloppily in the bowl, though most of it misses and lands on the table instead.
I swallow whatever remains in my mouth. “Whoops…” I groan and stand to my hooves. I know what I have to do, and that is to head back into the kitchen and grab a rag to clean the table with. Well, that and finish the meal of oat left in the bowl.
As I head to the kitchen, I can hear a door open behind me. “Hey, I think I should tell you something.” Yet, before I could ask him a question, he continues talking. “I made some banana… something yesterday, and might not have cleaned the skillet well enough.”
I blink a few times. “That… might explain the banana flavoring. But I spilled on the table, I’m going to grab a rag. Are there any rags left?” I ask. He was the last one to do anything when it came to cleaning. I had eaten out the last few days.
“Yeah, there should be. Gotta go,” he says as he drops the bowl into the sink and runs out the front door ( which actually leads to the hallway and at the end of the hallway are the stairs which lead down). I couldn’t even bid him farewell.
I check around the blue cabinet and get lucky. Because there are three rags, I grab all of them. I set down one of them on the floor—had there been a counter, I would have put them there—and I move the rest to the yellow cabinet, where they should have been in the first place. I take the one on the floor in my teeth—using magic is rather repugnant and drains me of energy if I use it too much—and leave for the dining room.
Back at the table, I notice that most of the spill is now in the bowl. I look around with a slight glare. “Still gone…” I mutter. Tilde, my roommate, must have picked up a little of the mess while I was gone. He has an interesting cutie mark: it was a tilde, simple and swirly. What it can possibly stand for is beyond me though.
I start to wipe off the parts of the table, making sure to just wipe the entire thing. “Wax off, wax on,” I mutter to myself while scrubbing the table clean. Well, now that that is done it is time to move on, I think to myself.
I throw the dirty rag onto my back. It is at this time that I realise my fatal flaw, something so bad that I might end up dead from it. I just threw a dirty object onto myself, therefore making myself dirty. “I’m so vulgar! Just a dirty, dirty mare!” I yell out in frustration, using a tone of sarcasm.
I shudder as I walk back to the kitchen. I have my bowl in my telekinesis carefully balancing on my back right behind the rag. I can’t help but shudder again as I feel the rag move a little on my back. It feels all slimy, and gross. I even groan a little.
In the kitchen, I set the bowl on the floor by the sink, and place the rag inside of the sink. Turning one of the nobs water begins to shoot out of the faucet. Once wet I set the rag in one of the corners of the sink’s tub. It had turned the water a really bright yellow and brown mixed into some sort of hybrid color.
I levitate the meal-of-oats-filled bowl up to me from the floor, and using the spoon I shuffle some more of it into my mouth, where I quickly chew it before swallowing. It really does have the strong flavor of bananas. When I finally am able to empty the bowl I place it in the sink filling it with water.
With water now in the bowl, I smile. Time to leave, I think to myself with a bit of a smug bravado. I turn around and make my way to the room of living. It is time to leave, but I know I am forgetting something. I look around the room trying to find what it is I might be looking for.
I can see that in the far corner of the room is a small water damage spot. It has been painted over several times. With an array of colors too: brown… and brown. I am lying to myself. It can count as a different color, since it went from a natural brown to a more smoother looking brown.
The walls look the same as well: just a simple, soft brown, which matches the rest of the room. We have a few pieces of non-furnished furniture… well, that is what I keep calling them. I forgot what they are actually called, but they are things like side-tables, coffee tables (which have not and will never see the likes of coffee), and a vase or two: empty, yet still here, just sitting there waiting for something, anything to fill them.
Deciding that I wasn’t going to find it out here, I head back into my room. And I see it. It is a small bag lying on the foot of my bed, or rather on the floor at the foot of the bed. I trot over to it and pick it up in my mouth. I set it on the bed, looking it over and making sure everything is still inside of it.
After I note everything is there, I sling it on. I smile softly as I head for the front door. I close the bedroom door behind me, quickly crossing the room of living to the hall of entry, where the door out of the apartment lies.
I open the door, and turn my attention down the long corridor. The hall has doors lining both sides of itl and a carpet running down the middle. A nice gold-edged, blue carpet that is soft on the eyes (something I am always glad about, since if it was rough on the eyes it could cause some confusion in the brain or something and cause that pony to run into something. And if they run into something they will get hurt. And if they get hurt, they will need medical assistance. And if they need medical assistance, then they need help with the assistance. And that is what I could help them out with.)
I shake my head. Time to go. As I take a step, I feel the floor shake slightly. Even though it was really subtle I felt it. As I take another step it, the shaking increases. I wait a good twelve seconds. Nothing. I take another step, and this time I hear a loud crashing noise outside.
“Do I dare risk it?” I whisper to myself. “I must be a monster.”
I spend all of ten seconds deciding. I dare, I think boldly, taking another step. I become blind as light fills the shaking corridor. As my eyes are adjusting to the change in light levels, I find that I am lying on my side. Apparently,at one point in my slight blinding I must have fallen over.
I try to stand but find that I am not able to do it. Looking down at my body I can see why: part of a wall, the ceiling, and a door have all landed on top of me. Looking at my body, the weight and pain begin to register.
I scream out, and not that “ow, this really hurts” scream. No, I meant the “this is going to kill me” scream (most commonly known as screaming bloody murder). I reach out with my magic and I imagine a really large hoof scooping up the debris. I grasp at my head, as pain breaks my concentration and I fail to perform the telekinesis.
Wincing, I try again. This time I imagine just pushing up on the debris. I slowly feel my magic grip the pile, but as I go to lift it, I fall flat. It feels as though a sledgehammer smacks me every time I try to do anything with the stuff. It is simply too heavy, and I don’t have the strength to lift it.
As my vision begins to blur, I find that I am slowly running out of air. Not because I am suffocating from the debris trapping me in a pocket, but because I am slowly being crushed and any air inside of my lungs is getting squeezed out of me. I try to desperately push up on the debris using my hooves, but to my dismay it doesn’t budge. Not even to the slightest amount.
I reach out with my magic again. Please work. Please. After having found a hold, I push up with all of my force and hooves. With the extra-force and the effort of my magic and hooves, I find that it cuts just a tiny slack. Using that slight slack, I adjust myself a little better as I keep pushing.
As I start to push, I find something strange: the debris has not only gone up more, but it is levitating away from me. I begin to feel sick. And with that sickness comes vomit. I vomit all over the dusty, scratched carpet.
“Not… the carpet,” I breath.
A thud came from the floor next to me. Though, the sound came from both sides of me. On one side, there is the debris; and on the other, a purple unicorn. As my vision straightens, I can see that it is actually a unicorn with wings.
Wings!? Then that would mean that the unicorn is an… I look upwards a little and try to concentrate on the figure. They are saying something, yet I can’t make out what they are saying.
My vision straightens more, and my focus deepens. I can now see that it is a mare, a taller mare than I. Her mane is messed-up. Ruffled I’d say. I imagine that if it is combed then each strand would measure the same length. What an OCD pony.
“Are you alright?” She asks. I am now absolutely sure that this is a mare. It would help if she wore some type of name plate. Wait. I know this mare. Yeah, I’ve seen her around town on multiple occasions.
Her name is Sparlight Twinkle… er… Princess Sparlight Twinkle. She is one of the six Alicorn Princesses; Sparlight, Luma, Solarsta, that baby, the mother, and—
“Princess…”
She gets closer as soon as I mutter. The look of worry, or at least concern, is spread across her face. “Yes?”
“Princess Sparlight. Did you save me?” I ask, and she is taken aback… for some reason.
“Um,” she starts hesitantly, “my name is Twilight. Twilight Sparkle. And to answer your inquiry: yes, I did help you.”
I blink a few times. “Oh, sorry. And thank you.” I silently start dreaming of what it would be like to save others as she does. I would be so happy to be her.
No. I shake my head profusely.
“Are you okay? Well, other than just having most of a building drop on you…” she trails off.
I cough, not the exaggerated “grabbing attention,” but the “might lose a lung” cough. “I’m peachy,” I hack out a reply, trying to hide my face under my hooves.
“That’s a relief. Don’t stay here. It’s dangerous. You should get somewhere safer,” she commands. Before I can say or do anything, she spreads her long pointy wings and takes to the air.
I don’t bother standing quite yet. Instead, I stay on the floor, or what is left of it. I can see that the carpet is hanging lower. Which can mean a few things: the wood below it is gone, the threads got thinner, or it is on fire. And seeing as there is no fire, I go for the former most. I hear another loud crash from outside. What could be making all that noise?
I slowly and clumsily stand to my hooves. Already they feel achy, sore, and painful. I attempt to move, but it comes only as a slight hobble, or more accurately a wobble. As I drop down to the bends of my legs, I can feel the bruises forming already.
But the thing that distracts me the most is the fact that my side has no feeling in it. It also isn’t the right side, but the left (the side I fell on). I feel constant pain from the right, yet nothing from the left. Without spending anymore time thinking on it, I travel as much as I can to… well, anywhere.
Preferably somewhere that is out of the structurally unstable building. I don’t need it coming down on top of me… again. I survived once, and I was lucky Tarlight saved me. But I doubt I will get that lucky once more.
I move to the debris, each step as if I taking a screwdriver and jamming it as far into myself as I can (only to find that said screwdriver is actually a knife). Once at the base of the debris, I attempt to climb. It takes a couple tries, but I am unable to rise up farther than my legs in height. Something about this is unsettling to me.
Giving up, I turn the other way. “You can do this Night. You’ve got this,” I tell myself aloud, silently thinking that I am a complete and utter failure.
I ignore the throbbing as I walk as lightly as I can. I almost make it several steps without falling; but a rumble knocks me over, following a loud crash. I grunt as I hit the threads, covered with splinters. They break my skin.
I squirm at the blood that is coming from the shallow penetrations. It hurt so much… I quit. I close my eyes, ready to let the pain carry me away. To my dismay I hear a soft pat on the wood close to my resting head, even closer are my ears.
“Come on. let’s get you out of here,” a voice, coming from a light blue hoof, says with a hint of pain.
It is at this point that I an struck by a realization: my head is pounding, and I am in the air. “Don’t up look down,” I am told. I begin to look down anyway. The ground is moving farther and farther away. I can’t tell if it is me who is moving or the ground. But regardless, I am shaking.
“Hey, stop moving so much!” the raspy voice demands.
It is the same voice from the building. I listen to it and find that a small stallion is carrying me. He is slightly bigger than I am, though.
We fly (one of my biggest fears now it seems) from above my apartment building to the ground—the far, far below ground—landing just a matter of seconds from take-off. “There you go. Now get out of here,” the voice demands wearily.
He takes off once more and flies around in a circle a few times before diving down at a building. With one hoof out-stretched, he kicks the roof of it; but it doesn’t break. No, it throws its own attack back.
I miss the rest after I realize I could get buried again if I stay here. I run as fast as my hooves will carry me. I run past all sorts of things: trees, broken trees, buildings, broken buildings. But no ponies. I dismiss the thought from my head. Right now I needed to focus on running.
I arrive at a small, circular stone structure which towers above the street. I push against the door. It is barred shut. My sight falls upon a rather thick beam of wood on the outside being held up by cast-iron bars. I look up to the top of the door—another beam.
Now this is interesting. It seems that somepony isn’t trying to keep things out but rather trying to keep something in. I lift the first one, the one on the ground. With a thud, it lands on the hard dirt (though I wasn’t sure if the thud was the beam or another shake). I lift the top one by reaching up and pushing it free.
I teeter, before falling over with it on my fetlocks. “Owie,” I moan, surprised. Everytime I lift heavy objects I fall over. Does the world hate me? Does everypony hate me?... No, Tilde doesn’t hate me.
Or… at least, I don’t think he hates me. I sigh—is it still called lightly when not of the heavy variety? I shake my head once, twice. It should matter very little what it is called.
I roll over to my side and practically jump to my hooves. “Ready or not… open up?” Well, I started it out strong. Why do I keep failing these simple phrases?
While wishing for the answer, I push the the open, only to find it that it won’t budge. Darn you, stupid door… oh. It is only until I pull the door handle that the rough surface begins to creak open, the cast-iron of the handle cold upon my fur and hoof.
The light floods inside the room immediately. As I step in, I can feel another tremor beneath me. Some of the first things to come to my attention are the torches still lit upon the walls, and the next is the cold floor, and stone walls. I find that the only metal in here is on the door.
Hanging on a little wooden peg by the door is a solid brown cloak. By what I can tell, it has a hood on it (a low hanging one at that). It is the type to conceal the face and body of the wearer. Generally, it is only used by ponies who work in the underworld of the crime syndicates or by ponies who want to hide their identity. Which is why the underworld enjoys using these types of cloaks.
But this one is a type used by the royal guards. I got to see them up close a few years back, and they have a small unique stitch in them to discern it is a guards cloak. I touched the cloak with a hoof. While the stitch is close, it has a slight twist in it—something a copycat would add because of the difficulty of the stitch.
I took a class at the Carousel Boutique a week ago, and I still remember the class about cloaks. The material even feels a little too light; that can be for a few reasons. “Fake cloak made to blend in with the guards. Why would anypony want this?”
Losing interest—mostly out of knowing I won’t get an answer—I turn to find that the torches illuminate a staircase which leads upwards. I move to the first step. Each step is painted. And for some sick reason, each step is painted a different color. Differing from light to dark in a completely random style.
I touch them. Acrylic paint. Heavily added by what I can tell. Not something one does normally, or that at least I wasn’t aware of. And I had that construction job where I was a painter for a few months a few years back.
Everything in my bones is telling me to get out, but what could possibly be in here? I take a deep breath. And release. I exhale, letting the breath leave me completely. Before I take another inhale, I proceed to breath normally again.
I might regret this in a few minutes, but I’ll climb this tower-like structure… with it’s vile stairs. As I climb the first few stairs, another tremble can be felt; yet this time it felt dampened. Weaker. Less. I sigh. “Must be this staircase?”
I keep climbing, higher and higher. Until I come face to wood with another door. This one is resting maybe halfway up the stairs, by my guess at least. I push it open—for once it isn’t locked or a pull door—I am met with near darkness, the only light coming from the torch several steps down.
What will come from this room? Is whatever in this room the reason the door at the base was barred shut? So many questions and no way to know the answer. Well, that is except for one thing.
I gulp as I ready myself for whatever might happen next. I hear a creak as I enter the room. Must be a loose floor board, I hope. An awful aroma fills my senses; it almost makes me feel blind. But that is the darkness’s doing.
Because not being able to see is disturbing to me, I walk out to the hallway. I grab a nearby torch in my mouth and take it into the room. I can now see that the room is set up like a bedroom of sorts. There is a mattress (well, I say matress, but it is really just a few blankets laid out), several crates each with papers on them, and some different foods scattered about the floor.
I trot over to the first crate and scan over the paper. They are coated with drawings of what seem to be blueprints. They look like really advanced technology. I couldn’t begin to understand what they might possibly be or what they could be used for. They look like scientific instruments, or some sort of transportation device. Machines maybe.
Quickly I leave that crate. Becoming confused isn’t a very good thing. I move to the next one. It is covered in papers with loads and loads of writing. An ancient language—I have seen it before once, while on the construction job; a small little pony had left a book opened—I can’t speak or read it though.
Without being able to read them, I decide it is time to leave the room. I scan it one more time: nothing out of the ordinary, except maybe the smell. With a hoof covering my nostrils, I walk out into the hallway.
The torch still in my mouth, I head up the stairs. At the top is a caged room. I say caged, but metal bars, as one would see on a cage, line the would be open edges. From the very top of the stairs, I can see the stallion still attacking the building. And I can also see Sparlight using magical beams against it. Others are there as well: a yellow pegasus, an orange earth pony with a cowpony-like hat, and a white unicorn (her name was a rarity for me to remember, but she runs the Carousel Boutique).
On closer inspection, I realize that the building isn’t actually a building. It turns out it is something rather large. As in larger-than-my-apartment-building large. Two massive appendages stick out of the front with a much larger one in what I guess to be the back. The front ones are pincers, while the back one is much more dangerous: a stinger, which means poison.
Large red, glowing dots spread across the front. “Those look just like… eyes,” I say, shuddering. Somehow giant red beady eyes is far more distressing to me than anything else.
I have to help them. They need help.
I turn around and run down the stairs, only stopping to place the torch in the holder. It slides in, giving a small click which tells me it is locked in place. I continue to run down the stairs. Grey fills my vision as I leave out the door. Stone is something that will never grow on me. Stone is everywhere here. I don’t like here.
I rush down the cobblestone-covered street (which I also don’t like). The humongous stinger flies right at me, or at least in my direction. It misses and slams into the place I was standing in seconds ago. Does it know me? I have no time to worry about that now. I should get as close as I can. If I’m close, it shouldn’t be able to hit me. And if I get closer I might be able to figure out what it is called.
Its attention turns toward me. “Oh no you don’t,” that raspy voice from before shouts. I watch as the stallion flies straight down at one of those… large… beady eyes. His hoof lands square on one, causing the creature to shriek out in pain.
“No, what are you doing? We need to lure her out and attempt to calm her down,” the yellow pegasus says. She has a very lovely pink mane, I note.
The stallion flies over, and waves his hooves rapidly. “Really Fluttershy? Really? This is a she now?”
“No,” Fluttershine says. “She has always been a she. You just didn’t take the time to ask.”
“What!? and you did?” The stallion yells.
Fluffershine huffs a little. “No, I can tell.” She sounds as if she is trying to yell, but it comes out barely louder than a normal talking volume.
“You’re such a—” the stallion doesn’t get to finish. He gets smacked out of the sky, like a fly being swatted out of the air. He crashes down next to me.
“Bad day?” I ask, as he groans.
“Ugh…” he barely grunts. Sparlight flies down landing next to him.
“Rainbow Dash! I tried to tell you to watch out,” she says. Rainbow Dash… isn’t that the hot new Wonderbolt? And if he is Rainbow Dash, then that means he isn’t actually a he. I wince at my realisation.
“Are you okay?” I ask
“Yeah,” Rainbow says. Then she looks at me, squinting her unfocused eyes. “Hey, I thought I told you to run.”
Sparlight casts a shield spell right as one of the large pincers comes to strike at us. “No time to worry about that right now. Let’s work on taking this outside of Ponyville,” she yells.
The others seems to all agree with her immediately. I guess that is why she is a princess. Because she is good at getting others to do what she wants. Why else would somepony hold the status of princess?
The orange earth pony throws a rope and it catches onto one of the pincers. “Woah-nelly. This is one strong varmint,” she says, through her teeth. Her name is Appletack. She runs the local farm with her family (which is why I know her name). They make really good cider.
She tugs on the rope, and the pincer snaps shut. I can see the tension on the taut rope, as it is practically screaming in pain (the rope, not the pincer. Pincers can’t scream out in pain). While Appletack holds the rope, the curly-purple-maned unicorn yells insults at it.
The pink-maned pegasus continues to say how they shouldn’t fight and just lure it out of the city and back to her bed. The Princess shoots beams at it from the sky, and the stallion-turned-mare continues to launch high-power kicks at the thing.
It isn’t until the tail of the thing strikes into the light blue mare that I realise what it is. “A Scorpion!” I yell out in astoundment.
“Well, almost. This is actually a Giant Scorpion from the ancient Athenian mythology from—”
“Pinkie! Stop talking, and help us out,” the light blue Pegasus yells out.
I watch as Pinkie Pie bounces to the aid. She taunts the creature with spitting of the tongue, before jumping out of the way of the slam. “Can’t catch me! I’m the Pinkie-mare~!” She sing-songs tauntingly.
The scorpion smashes one of her pincers into the ground, destroying another building, before turning fully to the pink mare. It stabs down with its stinger, but Pinkie jumps to the side (and she is humming a tune while hoping about). The creature continues to strike at Pinkie, but Pinkie’s chipper nature and usage of the dodge make it very tricky to hit her.
Together, they lead the scorpion out of Ponyville. And I watch them. It is awe-inspiring to see such an example of ponies taking turns and helping each other without the need of my help.
I gallop after, because they are leaving me behind. I watch as the scorpion continues being led by Pinkie and keeps on the path of destruction. For a good ten minutes, Pinkie just hops about dodging the scorpions attacks and casually singing a song as if nothing is happening. Something about sunshine, rainbows, and a hint of dash... oh, and something about numbers being up.
Outside of town, they fight the beast in a plains… or the plains. It is right next to the forest. “Take this,” Rainblow yells. She flies down and delivers a mighty kick to the top of the scorpion’s head. It retaliates with a mighty swing of its tail. The head of the stinger smashes right into Rainblow’s body, breaking her wing.
It wouldn’t have mattered all that much. Rainblow crashes into a rock on the far side of the field. She doesn’t look like she is moving. Now is my chance to prove myself… for once.
I take off into a full gallop. The tail slams down several paces in front of me, but I manage to jump over it. “What’s she thinkin’?” The orange one yells. I clear the hurdle but just barely. When I land I work on regaining the speed I lost from the jump.
A misdirected magic beam nearly lands on my head, and I can feel the heat scorch some of my mane and fur. “Whoops. She’s going to Dash,” Sparlight yells a reply several seconds late.
“Girls, we should ask her if she will leave peacefully,” I hear Flumpyshine say. I reach Rainblow and proceed to try to pry her from the rock she is indented in.
“Ya know what Fluttershy? If you want ta ask ‘er to scamper off, then be mah guest.”
I manage to free Rainblow from the rock, though I did have help from the scorpion who smashed the rock with its left pincer. “Fine,” Fluttershine declares. I barely see her fly in front of the towering beast. I can’t hear what she says though.
I gallop as fast as I can while carrying the mare on my back. Whoops, she is going to get all dirty now. Within a few steps she starts to slant on my back. No, no, no, no. As I try to adjust her on my back, she ends up sliding off in the other direction. I let her drop with a thud.
When I glance around, I see the wagon I had worked on the other day. It looks much cleaner. I trot over to it, taking the handle in my mouth, and pull the wagon over to Rainblow as she lies groaning on the ground.
I struggle to move her, for being so small she has some lean muscles, that and she is heavier than she looks. Not long after I push her onto the wagon bed, I whisper, “I hope you won’t get mad.” Then I notice she is asleep, or perhaps knocked out. “Good, you won’t want to be awake for this.”
I reach into my bag and pull out a piece of rope. I begin to meticulously tie her to the wagon. “Ouch,” I yelp suddenly. I had tied my hoof into the knot. Grumbling, I pull it free and analyze my work. “Rainblow tied to this decent-sized green wagon? Check. Time to get a move on.”
I check my surroundings before I feel confident. Slowly, I start to tug at the handle, it barely moves; but it does move, at least just a little bit. We are rolling down the street, where the grass won’t hinder our movement. We are on our way!
“It isn’t fair. Every time I eat a strawberries, they taste nasty. But all the other ponies can eat ‘em perfectly fine.” I tell the unconscious pony.
About thirty minutes, ago I started to drag this pony on the wagon with a rope tying her down, making her nice, safe, and secure. Something about dragging a full-sized mare across town gains the oddest looks from other ponies passing by, especially when the pony you are taking is tied down. Now I am taking her on a stroll through town.
Her name is Rainglow Dish, the famous Wonderbolt, who triumphantly has been gaining prestige at all the events. She is, by all terms, a rising star. And like every rising star she has her mode-of-transport.
I snicker at my joke. It wasn’t very funny, but it was still good. Besides, it is my joke. What’s not to love about my joke?
I pull and pull on the wagon. We aren’t travelling too quickly, but we are making progress to the destination I have in mind—assuming it isn’t destroyed of course.
I drag her along in the cart, turning down the side-alleys and avoiding anyplace that could be busy or destroyed. One block. The creaking of the wagon wheels on cobblestone is the only noise that fills my ears.
I have not seen anypony else. Perhaps they ran like a stampede when the Scorpion attacked the town. I never did know her name. I look up to see the destination. A large building with an equally large sign out front.
I pull her up to the large steps. Luckily the place isn’t destroyed. I push her off the wagon as it isn’t mine so I will need to return it. I’m sure she will be found. It is only paces away from the front of the hospital after all.
I take the handle back into my mouth and pull it at a nice steady pace. As much good as saving others is, taking credit for a friendly act is never a good thing, I think to myself, half-tempted to say it aloud.
--- --- ---
I let the cart come to a stop. Right… it is a wagon. I drop the handle. It tastes nasty, but it isn’t as bad as the smoke smell that fills the air. I rest the wagon back on the spot I had taken it; even taking the time to make sure the handle is resting in the right spot.
Once set correctly I turn to see the colt it belongs to. “Just returning it, not stealing it… since why would I be stealing it if I were adjusting it to the right position… before I… took it?” I pause and look at the kid as he stares at me.
“Mom!” He yells slightly cocking his head back.
“No. There’s no reason to do that, why don’t we just—”
“Mom, that one mare from before is trying to steal my wagon!”
“No, nooo. I’m not. I promise you, I’m not.”
I hear his mother yell, “That’s nice, dear.”
I don’t have to deal with this… she thinks he is playing a game. “Look. Here are a couple bits.” I drop a few bits onto the ground “Why don’t you go buy an ice cream?”
He looks at the bits, then looks at me. He switches his attention between us a few more times before finally yelling behind himself again. “Mom! She is offering me money now!”
“That’s good, dear. Make sure to get as much as you can,” she yells back nonchalantly.
He slowly grins. “I’m going to need more than that.”
I open my mouth to protest, but quickly shut it. “Fine,” I decide as I drop a few more. He raises an eyebrow. I groan as I drop some more.
I trot away before he demands anything else. “That little brat. He took everything I had.” I hear him yell something, but I can’t quite make it out. It does not matter, though, as I begin to run away.
Not even a street later, and I trip falling on my face. “Ow…” I moan. I sit up, still on the ground. I feel around my muzzle.
It is damp but not just any damp. The dampness that comes with a scent, an aroma. Blood. I’m bleeding?! I wipe off my hoof on my coat and dig into my bag. I pull out a bandage-aid, something to help stop the bleeding.
It stings as I put it in place. “Glad I’m still pony,” I murmur.
Where’s Tilde? He left before I did. Then there was that attack… did he get caught in the collapse? My focus sharpens. “No time to look for him.”
I take off galloping down the road. A fresh layer of dust has over-lain the roads, streets, and roofs, except for one: Sugar Cube Corner. I skid to a stop, hitting a rock out of place and falling on my face. Again.
I don’t even bother checking to see if it is ripped. I take out a second bandage and set it crossed-over the first. I huff. “Falling hurts.”
“Yes, it does~” I jump when a squeaky voice says that, right next to my ear. I hear someone giggle. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were sooo focused.”
I look and see Pinkie Pie. “Wait… I—”
“Nope, we finished that after you took Dashy to the hospital!” she chimed.
“Okay, but—”
“Nope! Everypony is a-okay!” She explains with an upbeat bounce. “Turns out the Scorpion is named Therames… and~ turns out she is going to be a mom-pion~” She sing-songs.
“Well… that is good. I guess. But do you—”
“Sorry, no idea,” Pinkie apologizes. “I wish I did, since magic can be an awful thing at times. Like turning a frog into an orange!”
“An orange? As in the fruit?”
“Yeah! You should have seen it! Twilight was practicing her magic and bam she hit a bird and a frog… before poof, they became part orange! It was really weird.”
“What!? Really?” I ask her out of disbelief.
“Yeah—oh, no.” With that Pinkie zips past me and enters Sugar Cube Corner. Should I follow her?
Best not. No way to know what she is doing in there.
I continue on my way. “To the park!” I yell, holding a hoof out in the air with extra flair and pizzaz. I look around to gather my bearings. Once I figure it out, I turn to it. “That way,” I say.
The stench in the air is that of smoke. The look… debris. Ponyville is in ruin, or most of it, at least. What isn’t knocked down, destroyed, or breaking, is dirty, and covered in particles of… who knows what.
There is a low-whining noise in the air as well. Almost like the siren they installed a few months back; but it’s not very good, as it is supposed to warn against monster attacks. There is a different tune to call a town meeting as well.
But I know it isn’t the siren, because the siren is a loud noise. This is just a low-whine that I doubt many can even hear. I fold my ears down and continue walking. I see the park entrance, a low-hanging wall with an arching gateway.
Well, there used to be an arching gateway, now it is just a pile of stones. I leap over and land with a five-out-of-ten nothing special landing. The first thing I see is water spraying in multiple directions. The fountain’s head is missing and broken into pieces.
I edge closer to the fountain and quickly get covered in water. But I don’t mind, especially not right now when I am dirty and all. Besides my apartment is gone for all I know. I shudder a few times, out of habit. The water is refreshing as much as it is cold. I take a moment to run my hoof over my back, my sides, and my front, making sure to get off the gunk on my back. Stepping out of the water, I shudder once more, not out of habit this time. No, this time because the cold water doesn’t mix with the cool air too well.
There is a tree not far from the fountain. I think I shall have a rest there. I trot over to the tree. It is an oak tree, tall and strong. I curl up into a ball, directly in the sunlight. In a half-hour, it shall become that of shade. I close my eyes, relaxing my aching joints and extremities. Slowly, oh so slowly, I begin… to drift… away…
--- --- ---
I awaken to something blaring three slow loud whines, before a giving a long, low whine. The difference now though is that this one isn’t some random white noise.
“A monster attack? At this hour of the day,” I mumble half asleep. “Mhmm… no…” I break for a yawn, “that isn’t the one for a monster attack. It would have to be the one for a town meeting.”
Meeting. In town... Where is it they said to meet again? Right… the hall of town, er, Townhall, yeah. Townhall. I shake myself awake. “Time to go see what is so important.”
I jump up, wobbling for a second before I begin to trot away. I leap back over the crumpled archway. Looking up to the sky, I see it has become cloudy. It will rain soon. I follow my hoofsteps from before I took that nap.
For the most part, I am now dry; but I can feel parts of me that are still drenched with water. I just hope that they will dry after a while. Going around with a wet coat isn’t the best feeling in the world.
I look at the buildings on my right and left. Like before, many of them are broken, though they seem to be getting rebuilt, and at an amazing pace too. Half of the town might already be rebuilt. I was only out for an hour or two.
A little strawberry garden I helped plant looks as if it was never touched. Was it touched? I ask myself mentally. I try to think back, but my mind is drawing a blank. It is astounding to think they can remake Ponyville in a single day.
If it was me, then it would take weeks. Even if I had multiple me’s working on it. A few walls remain the same monotonous wood color from the building resources, while others are mostly painted.
“Ponyville: making towns in an afternoon since the founding,” I joke.
“Yeah, it certainly has,” I turn to see Tilde answering my joke. I stare at him for a few seconds, unmoving. “Do I have something on my face?” He asks.
I jump on him. “You’re alive! I thought you had died!”
He looks at me as if I was saying a flying pig ripped his eyes out with a teaspoon. “You… thought that I… died?” he asks slowly. I nod frivolously. “Why would you think so little of me?”
“No, I didn’t mean it like tha—”
“Of course,” he drags on. “You meant it in the good way of ‘hey, you can’t survive a simple attack on the town.’”
“No, I…” I trail off, unsure of what to say.
He shakes his head once. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to go ahead. I’ll be on the left wall; don’t meet me there.” He demands. As he trots away, I can hear him mutter under his breath. “I don’t want to catch your clumsiness and perfect opportunity to...”
I can’t hear the rest, it goes out of earshot. “I’m not clumsy, though. Just a little wobbly at times,” I explain in a soft voice, barely passing above a whisper. I watch frozen as he passes a corner; I know the corner. It is a straight-shot to Townhall from there.
I trot after him at a slower pace, not to catch up but to get to the same place. Before going to the right wall, I turn the cleaned corner.
Tap.
I look up.
Tap, tap.
Rain. The rain decides to come now. I know the Pegasi have a schedule to stick too, but did they have to pick this exact moment to have it rain?
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Slowly the rain picks up, and what was moments ago hardly anything has now soaked me through in a matter of seconds. I shake my entire body trying to get the water off. I turn toward the large, perfectly intact, falling apart building several long paces ahead of me.
I gallop at full force. I reach the stairs, but the cool rainwater numbs my hooves a little too much and causes me to misjudge the height of the steps. With a thwack, I collide with the bottom wooden step and slam my chin on the wooden floor. Water shoots everywhere.
All of the sudden, I am in the air again. I slowly get set down again on the porch that surrounds the building. I look around to see Sparlight coming towards me. I drop one knee, not to bow but because it gave out.
“Are you alright?” she asks, a slight red-tint covering her muzzle. She isn’t looking directly at me.
“Yeah, I think I am,” I inform her.
“Wait… I recognize you. You helped one of my friends earlier.”
“That’s right! Hey, Twilight!” I turn to see Pinkie bounce up to where we are. She easily covered those steps, unlike a certain somepony. “Dashy is getting much better,” Pinkie explains, though with her squeaky voice it is hard to take her seriously.
“Really?” Sparlight asks. Sparlight? Why is she getting called “Twilight?”
“Yupperoos, the Doc said she only broke her wing, and that she should be better within a day, or two.”
Spar—er, Twilight breaths a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I was worried about her. It didn’t look like a good hit… Pinkie, why don’t you go inside? I’m going to talk to… um,” she nearly finishes.
Before I could tell Twilight my name, Pinkie beats me to it. “Her name is Night Zone. She moved here not too long ago, from Manehattan, I believe!” She seems to remember something. “Right, inside… bye Twilight!”
“Bye, Pinkie.” Twilight turns to me. “So Miss Zone I would like to ask you: why were you on the field? We told everypony to run, but you didn’t. I mean, I’m glad you didn’t. There’s no telling what might have happened to Rainbow Dash if it weren’t for you.
“But that doesn’t express the need for you to be there. You could have gotten hurt, or worse,” she talks on.
“Um… I didn’t hear anything about fleeing. Sorry,” I say, my head drooping down.
“No, it’s—” she turns to look inside the building “—alright… I’ve got to go now. It was nice talking to you.”
She rushes inside, almost copying Pinkie Pie in the level of speed. I head inside not long after. I am struck by a thought when I see Pinkie on the other side of the room. She came from outside, but she is perfectly dry.
As soon as my tail enters, the doors swing shut behind me. I turn to see a pegasus with a simple mane and a wandering eye. “Everypony accounted for!” She yells to the front.
Odd, I could have sworn I heard hooffalls behind me as I was coming in.
I shake the thought away. Well, I made it at least. I shuffle my way to the right wall.
In the front Twilight and Mayor Mare are standing on an elevated stage. Twilight steps forward and clears her throat. “May I have everypony's attention.” The room, which is bustling full of chatter, becomes deathly silent.
“Thank you. Now, as many of you might have heard, we have news to share. It concerns Equestria as a whole—”
Mayor Mare burst forward. “Tirek has escaped!”
Twilight loses her calm demeanor which she had kept in check until then. She gives the Mayor a glare and continues nervously. “Yes, but that’s not all. It seems that a spell King Sombra put into place before the Crystal Heart was returned has caused his return as well.” She eases into calmness again. “As of right now, we are unsure if the two coming back is connected, but we will let you all know when we find something out.”
The silence throughout the room vanishes. Whoever these Sombra and Tirek characters are, they must be real bad ponies or something.
“Excuse me all,” Twilight yells. The room quieting down not long after. “It would also seem that Sombra has taken over the Crystal Empire once more, through a surprise attack. It happened earlier this morning.”
Somepony yells out from somewhere in the room. “You’re a Princess! Why didn’t you save ‘em?”
“Princess Cadence was there, and she couldn’t stop them. Shining Armor as well. As for me, I was working with my friends on stopping the monster attack.” She answers truthfully.
There must have been a mix of confusion from the asker. “The attack that destroyed most of Ponyville!”
There are murmurs in the rest of the crowd. I, however, remain silent to see if there is going to be more. “How can we believe that a monster attacked the town?” Another yells from the crowd.
Are these ponies crazy? I watched it happen first hoof. “It sent Rainbow Dash to the hospital!” Twilight yells back, her calmness slowly washing away again.
The murmurs only picked up. By what I can tell, it isn’t out of disbelief but rather out of panic. “What are we to do?” The first voice yells again.
“We’re all doomed,” the second declares.
Appletack trots up on stage. “Now hold your horses. We never said we were doomed er nothin’, all we’re tryin’ ta say is that we’re just goin’ ta have ta work together.” She stomps her hoof on the floor. “Why can’t y’all just—”
“Applejack, darling, that is quite enough,” the white unicorn from Carousel Boutique steps on stage interrupting. She has such a swirly mane, though, it is slightly frazzled at the moment. “Let’s all just calm down and relax. Right, Fluttershy?” She winks towards the left side somewhere just off stage.
It is faint, but I can slightly hear a “Y-yeah.” Fluttershy, unlike the rest seems to stay off-stage. She must have something against public speaking. I know I do.
Pinkie bounces up on stage. “There will be cupcakes at Sugar Cube Corner… free samples for everypony!” She cheers.
Nopony is cheering along, though. The atmosphere is almost choking too. If I do something, anything wrong, then I might be swallowed whole. I might—
“What if we were to launch an attack against Tirek? You girls could use the Elements of Harmony and send him back to his maker.” Somepony hollers, their voice flowing long and strong.
“Well—” Twilight begins to answer, until she decides to suddenly stop.
“Because that wouldn’t be right, an’ y’all should know that,” Appletack finishes.
Mayor Mare steps forward. “Now, why don’t we all just calm down. If we aren’t calm—” she looks around the room, and for a second, it seems like she lingers on somepony “—then we might not last the night.”
“What?!” Several gasp in fright.
The mayor chuckles nervously a little, and Twilight pushes her gently to the back. “No, we will last the night. Now, if everypony wants to help Equestria. There will be a train leaving the station for Canterlot early in the morning, around sunrise, and remember,” she pauses to let her words sink in, “we cannot let them win.”
She scans the entire crowd. “I suggest that each and everyone of you think about this very, very carefully,” she says, a certain sternness in her voice. I am tempted to call it the Princess Voice because it has the feel of authority. And it isn’t like that Royal Canterlot Voice that they used way-back-when. “Come on girls, we have some packing to do.”
“Packing? So you are picking up and leaving?” A third voice asks from somewhere near the back.
Twilight can be heard audibly sighing. “No. We are packing because we are going to be gone for a long time, and we wanted to be prepared.” She looks to the back of the stage, “Come on Spike.”
From the back, a small little creature with some sort of fin at the top of its head waddles down from the stage. “I’m coming, Twilight!” It sounds like a baby… something. Almost like a dragon, but pint-sized.
Twilight and the possibly-a-dragon trot out into the rain. Pinkie and the other two, the unicorn (who has some thick-looking clothing on) and the yellow pegasus, leave as well. Appletack is still on stage. She seems to be looking for somepony, muttering something.
I stop paying attention to her after that and begin looking around for Tilde. He said he was on the left wall, but I can’t quite see him. “Looking for something,” a low, deep voice asks from right next to my ear. I shriek, and several ponies around immediately look (one with a little too much enthusiasm).
When I turn to see who it is, I am surprised by Tilde. He laughs a little, and not a mean laugh but the apologetic kind—the sheepish one. “Sorry, didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to see which one you are going to be doing.”
“Which one?” I fix on him. “Oh! I haven’t decided yet. I think I will sleep on it.”
“You were sleeping before you got here,” he says with a flat voice, which matches his expression. I cock my head slightly, and before I can ask him, he continues. “I saw you while passing by, and it isn’t hard to tell when you sleep. There is always a side of your mane sticking out to the right. Almost straight-out, too.”
I open my mouth to say something, but again he interrupts. “I’ll be off.” He takes several steps, before remembering something. “Oh, and you can sleep here for the night. I have somewhere to be, so I won’t need to sleep here.”
I watch as he walks away. When he reaches the door leading out, most of the others start shuffling out as well. I seem to be one of the only one staying here. All of the others are looking for somepony and talking as they leave together.
That whole we’re doomed thing seems to have passed by them rather quick. I see Appletack standing on the stage talking to Mayor Mare with a hard face. If I’m to ask somepony where I can sleep it would be Mayor Mare. I approach the stage.
“That’s just crazy. If Twilight were ta hear ya sayin’ tha—” She stops when they see me standing at the front of the stage. “Ah’m sorry. I’m just tryin’ ta knock some sense into her. Anyway, how can we be of service?”
“Well, I was just looking to see if I could sleep here tonight. My apartment compound was destroyed earlier. And I was told I could sleep here.” They both look at me slightly confused, but they slowly seem to understand.
“Yes, I would be happy to let anypony sleep here. Let me just fetch you the sleeping equipment.” With that Mayor Mare trots off somewhere.
Appletack just keeps looking at me, an odd look on her face. “I know you!” She bursts out so suddenly that I jump a little. She looks a little sheepish as I focus on her again. “You saved Rainbow, knew ah was better; an’ this proves it.”
Before I could say anything, Mayor Mare returns. She is carrying a sleeping bag and a pillow. She drops them on the floor. “Here you go. Feel free to sleep anywhere. It will just be you here.”
“Thanks,” I trail off. Appletack and Mayor Mare trot towards the door and make it out into the rain. “Okay…” I say slightly frowning. I take a last look around the room. I am the only one here, after all.
I slowly set out the sleeping bag, and place the pillow. To be accurate: I pile up both of them, before I curl up into a ball on them. I close my eyes and count the stars.
“Time to head to the train. Whale, stop dropping that.”
Boom…
“That’s it.”
“No, don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sor—” whoever is talking doesn’t get to finish, as they start laughing.
My head shoots up. Time for the train. That means that I need to decide now. I climb out of the pile I created to sleep on. Should I clean it up?
“Hurry, there’s about five minutes left. We might not make it.” Guess not, then.
I shuffle for the door, as soon as I reach the stairs I break into a full gallop. I maneuver around a group of ponies, carrying everything they own, and try to pick up the pace. Not even two minutes later I arrive at the train station, but the train isn’t even here.
And practically half the town is standing, crowded at the station. I stand with the crowd and listen to foals screaming, colts and fillies crying, and parents trying to calm them. I hear couples talking about how much they like each other, and a few couples arguing about who will look “coolest” when they strike down Tirek.
Three minutes go by. The screams have become silent, the cries muffled, and the couples silent. The air has weight to it. It is crushing, threatening any who dares break it. Until suddenly a whistle. A recognizable whistle, one that belongs to a train.
I try to watch as it pulls into the bay of loading, but the heads of many stallions and mares easily taller than I block my view. The pony next to me, with a light red coat and maroon eyes, looks nervous. She sees me as well, and I couldn’t help but feel her eyes are scrutinizing my every detail.
“You must think me a coward,” she says.
“No, it didn’t come to my—”
“Don’t lie. It’s written in your eyes. I am, though. Or… maybe just a sad case.” She looks distraught.
“Well, you look nervous, but that is it,” I tell her with a smile. She is a little bigger than a filly, and just about my size. “So, what’s your name?”
“It’s Sunny Dance… and yours?”
I give a friendly smile, “It is Night Zone. If I may ask: why, are you so nervous?”
Her eyes begin to look hollowed, like somepony just took something from her. “I was supposed to see my dad one more time—a surprise—but he left town a few weeks ago. I was supposed to leave to visit him.” She paused, swallowing. “But it looks like it will be cancelled.”
The group begins to slowly shuffle for loading into the train. “Seems I am going after all,” I say as I get swept more into the crowd. Sunny Dance being swept with me as well. “I would only assume that it is cancelled. I am sorry to hear that. What about your mother? Can’t you see her?”
That hollowness not only grew, but it looks like it drained the life out of her. “She… she died… a long… long time ago. When I was still a foal,” she mutters, I can barely pick her out from the rest of the sounds coming from around me.
A feeling of dread washes over me; I just reminded her that her mother was dead. Way to go Night. I groan. The closer we get to the train the tighter the crowd gets. “Sorry—” I exhale a little, “—to hear… that.”
It is getting too tight to breathe. How can any of the others not feel that? I reach over, as best I can, and take Sunny’s hoof. When I feel them connect I drag her out of the crowd, as best and quickly as I can.
“Can’t breathe either?” she asks. I nod my reply to save my lungs. “It’s fine. I did a head-count, she continues. “We’ll have to wait for the next train anyway.” The questioning look I give her must have told her I didn’t know what she is talking about (which I didn’t, so it is good that it gives that impression). “It would be hard to move all of Ponyville’s residents in a single train. So, it’s only natural to assume that there would be a second train or even a third train to get everypony.”
I continue to stare at her, in what I hope is awe. She looks back with a casual expression. “What happened to your father then? Why did he leave?” I ask.
She seems to have become much more lively since we left the crowd. “Oh! He works around. And after my mom died, he wasn’t allowed to keep me, since it would be too dangerous. So I was put with a family, who could look after me,” she informs with a frown.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
Her eyes drop to the ground. “It was about five, or six months ago. We went to the park, watched a puppet show, and had lunch… I even got a balloon animal from Pinkie Pie.”
“Which animal was that?” The way she looks at me, tells me that she really isn’t used to such trivial questioning.
Her eyes lit up barely. “It was a snake…” She sounds like she wants to say more, but I won’t pressure her. I’ve hurt her enough. “It was kinda like an Anaconda, but not. I… well, I rather liked it.”
“So, Summy, what—”
“Not Summy. Sunny. I know you must be bad with names. Your mane says it all, but at least get mine right.” She practically glares at me. “Sunny, Sunny, Sunny, Sunny, annnnd Sunny! Do you remember it now?”
I give her a redundant nod (redundancy is the first step on the path to being a redundant pony), placing my hoof on my chin. “Sunny—” I look to her and see her give me the tiniest of smiles. “—what types of food do you like?”
Her smile vanishes in less than a second. “You just say food because you’re hungry.” She looks up to the sky, fixated on something in the clouds. I begin to ask her if she sees anything, but she looks back to me. “We can go get something to eat. Or go pack some things for you to do.”
“Ya—”
“But, I’m going to stay here. You seem nice and all, but you are still a stranger.” I begin to say something to that, but she continues before I have the chance (who would have guessed my luck at being interrupted so often?). “I feel like you might trip over something and hurt me.”
“Why does everypony keep saying that?” I groan, letting out a sigh.
Her smile returns. “I doubt everypony says that, but I say it because it looks like you have fallen down multiple times within the last few days.” She then pokes at her chin, and that tiny smile becomes much more mischievous.
Not finding the right words to say I turn around. I can see that where we moved to is far more out of the way than I thought. “Look… sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression—”
“You didn’t give me the wrong impression. It’s only based on the skills that I have slowly been honing throughout the years. I heard my father has… it… too…” she trails off. I couldn’t help but notice the touch of sadness in her voice.
Whoever her father is he must hold a special place for her. “If you want… my offer still stands,” I say over my shoulder.
“No… I think… I think I am just going to go lie down and wait for the train. Besides my stuff might be stolen if I’m not there to watch it.” I sigh at her reply, I was hoping she would say yes… well I am hoping she will now change her mind.
I watch her, from over my shoulder, as her white mane flows behind her as she is rounding the building we were standing next to. The slight orange highlights that color the, otherwise white mane was an additive to the entire look she carried with herself.
Where do I know of that has supplies, and nopony lives in… anymore? I can only think of two. I know the first one is destroyed (I was in it when it happened). The second is a head-scratcher.
“To the tall tower-esque building it is,” I think aloud. I trot casually in a general direction, hoping that it is the right direction. The ground is wet, and my hooves feel cold with continues walking. Clearly, whoever placed the clouds failed to cover every spot.
The train station remained dry, but it seems that the rest of Ponyville became wet. I turn a corner and water washes over me from above. The water, when I check above, turns out to be from a renegade cloud.
“I should go give whoever the weather manager is a piece of my mind and let them know it is not okay to let the cloud run rampant, dropping water wherever it pleases,” I huff. If I am honest: it isn’t the cloud or the water I am upset about, but the fact that I still haven’t decided what to do.
While mumbling to myself, I continue trotting in a direction. “And while I am at it, maybe I could break one of thei—”
The air in my lungs burst out when I walk face first into something hard. I hear a creaking and something swings open. My hooves catch something on the ground, causing me to clumsily sprawl over the ground onto hard, cold stone. My eyes squeeze shut on impact.
“Ouch,” I moan. I wave my hoof over the floor. “Hmm… it is not wet?” I open my eyes to see a room lit by torch light and disconcerting stone taking up all of my vision, except for a small spot covered in oddly-painted wood steps.
I scramble to my hooves. “I… made it? How? I was trotting around absorbed in thought,” I ask, my beliefs about the world teetering on destruction. “No matter,” I quickly dismiss any notions that could jeopardise my beliefs (which would be very little. I have very little beliefs).
“‘I live day by day, hour by hour. Life is about living in the present and not focusing on the hardships that lay ahead’.” I quote. It is a quote from a character in my favorite book. The book, having been out for only a few years, wasn’t all that popular; but it contains the heart and soul of the pony who wrote it. Sadly, they didn’t give their name, only a writer’s persona named Stripes.
A cold wind blows in from the opened door. I shiver. It is getting colder. I go to the wall and reach for the cloak, but it isn’t there. “Odd. Maybe somepony took it.” I trot over to the stairs. Jumping every other step I quickly climb to the halfway point, or the first other door. I find that it is already opened. I step inside and find that it is lit. A torch cradled in a holder placed in the center of the room provides enough light to keep the entire room lite enough to see. On the wall hangs a little bag. It looks exactly like…
I check my body to find that my bag is missing. I look closer, and move closer, to the bag. The more I look at it the more it looks like my bag. I reach for it. As I pull it down the grey strap breaks. The amber red bag falls to the floor.
“It is mine,” I mutter. The red that matches my eyes. The repulsive grey to give a little heel to the nice red, and a there is slight rip on the top from where I fell on it. I open it up, unclasping the simple clasp, and swinging it open. As I browse the contents to see if anything is stolen, I don’t find anything out of place.
The rope, book, bottle, and a few other things are all in there. The only thing that seems to be missing is some strawberries I had in a container, but the container is still here. What is strange is there is some sort of goo lining the tupperware now.
I pull the bag on. It is time to go back. I have no idea when the train leaves, but I should get back while I can. I get out the door of the room, and stop. I turn to the higher stairs. Might as well check out the town from above one more time.
I jump the steps one more time. It doesn’t take long to reach the top, and like before the door is wide-open. This time, however, there is no light. I reach over to a holder not far from the door taking its torch in my magic, I levitate it to my mouth. “Whuebeh ‘ade ease ‘hings ‘ade ‘um illy heaby,” I attempt to say with a mouth full.
I carefully step into the room. Something is just making my coat crawl all over. I step up to the bars. With the torch light, and more-lack-of sunlight, I can see that some of the bar has been filed through.
A bad sensation washes through my stomach, and my hoof feels itchy. I look above me, only to have my vision fill with black. Then I see two white somethings. They look exactly like…
--- --- ---
“...up.” Something is calling out to me. Am I dying?
It calls again. “You need to get up.” This time it registers.
My eyes burst open. “What happened!?” I blurt. A hoof rests on my shoulder. “It’s okay. You were attacked. Somepony left this.” The hoof waves to a book that is laid out on the floor. “There’s a message that… I’m sure wasn’t there before.”
I look at the book, and… “It is my book! That is my book. It should be clean!” The hoof moves to my mouth and rests itself gently over, taking care not to block the airflow; I breathe out around and past the hoof. As it uncovers my mouth, bringing a state of calmness, I read the message.
To the, lovely mare this might be addressed to:
I regret to inform you thusly, that you were in the wrong place, at the right time. I really enjoyed those strawberries—nice, ripe, and red.
Yours, Stripe.
I turn to the pony in the room and see that it is Sunny. “Wait, you came after me?”
“No, I followed you,” she declares with a shake of her head. At my pleading eyes she explains. “I saw you yesterday at the town meeting, and you had a saddlebag on. But when you came to the train station you didn’t; so I feared somepony might jump you if you were to go alone.”
“So, you let somepony jump me, just to test out a theory?!” I yell, tears starting to well-up in my eyes, I could already feel some coming out. She knew this could happen? What if I was killed? It would be her fault?
“Look!” she yells back. My attention breaking free to focus on her again. “I did what I needed to do. You are bigger than me, and I bet you are stronger than me as well. I had to let them jump you, because how else could I see who did it?”
My ears perk-up. “So… did you see who did it?” I ask anxiously.
She shrinks down a little. “Sadly, I did not. They had a cloak and hood on. So I couldn’t tell anything about them… except…” she trails off.
“Except, what?”
She gulps, as she shrinks down even more. “Except that they are a bipedal, and bigger than either of us.”
I blink slowly a few times. “Oh. Is that all? Well, I guess that only leaves a couple quadrillion ponies, and other creatures as the culprit,” I snark. “I guess we should head back. What’s done is done.”
I stand up and look down to her. She is pressed against the floor. “What are you doing?”
She stays like that for a few more seconds, she shudders before jumping to her hooves. “Sorry, I’m just not used to such a pleasant anger,” she confesses. I see that same hollowness in her eyes again.
“Hey, what happened to that torch I had? It is kind of dark in here.”
She cocks her head, placing one forehoof on the stairs. “Torch? There were no torches in here when I came in.” I open my mouth to say something but decide that it would be better left unsaid. I wave for her to follow. “Right, so… you can use your horn to make light… right?” She asks.
I freeze in place, something smacks into my rump. “My horn could make light?”
“Well… yeah. It’s used to conduct magic, and if it were broken you would lose a percentage of your energy output based on the percent lost.”
I turn to her as best I can. “No wings. No horn. You’re an Earth pony. How do you know so much about horns?”
She motions for me to keep moving. “I don’t actually. I know about magic, and many of the magical properties. For example: did you know that the reason a Pegasus can walk on the clouds is because a small magical current runs through their wings to the rest of their body allowing them to walk on the clouds and interact with them of course.”
I continue climbing down the stairs. “But what about when a Pegasus loses their wings?”
“If that is the case then the same thing still applies. Since the wing is still there, it just won’t be visible. It will be within the body instead of on the outside. You can’t get rid of the entire wing, only the part to fly with,” she answers. She then goes on to slightly contradict herself. “The only way to rid of the entire wing is to destroy the entire body, or just a good portion of the barrel.”
I think for a moment. “What about a Unicorn’s horn then? What makes us have the power to cast magic?”
“That one is easy. A Unicorn uses a catalyst, their horn, to form energy into spells. Spells can take a wide range of energy: kinetic with telekinetic being the most prominent. Kinetic energy is used for things like lasers, shields, and things like that. Telekinetic is used for things like levitation, teleportation, and celestial or solar.”
Telekinetic, kinetic… solar, lasers. She is just giving me information, and it is unadulterated. “Do you think you could explain those things further?”
“Certainly,” she answers without a moment’s beat. “What would you like me to explain more of?”
We reach the bottom of the stairs, and we start heading for the door. “How about the… um, the horn?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” she answers after a moment. “The catalyst, or the horn as I should call it for you, is what is used for the spells. When a Unicorn conducts one of the energy types into the horn, they can give it an order. The order will tell the catalyst what type of spell, going back to the specific type of energy given, it is going to be. Afterwards, or more of during that process of the horn (since you don’t remember the word catalyst) will begin to process all of what it is given. If, say, you try to cast an erect spell—er, sorry, a levitation spell, then you would pour telekinetic energy into the horn along with the type of spell, a lift spell. The horn will then start to divert the energy into power, and the power becomes the spell. But if the horn is broken, instead of being able to give full power, it can only give the amount it has left. Say, twenty percent of the horn remains, then it would be twenty percent power; which in turn is more strain on the Unicorn casting the spell.”
She stops to breath but quickly starts back up, while we are outside walking down the roads. “Think of it like a faucet. The faucet can send out water based on how much you turn the knob, or pull up the handle. When it is only twenty percent turned, it can only give twenty percent of its total capacity. But as it goes up or down, it changes to match it.”
“Ohhh,” I let slip as I finally understand.
“It really isn’t complicated. Would you like to know anything a else?” she asks with a little too much eagerness than I would have ever hoped for.
“Yes,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I’m so glad to hear that!” she exclaims, rubbing her forehooves together. “What first?”
“Whatever you want,” I whimper slightly.
“Alright! The basic celestia spell, or solar spell. Or even light spell… it could even be known as a flash spell, but that doesn’t have the right ring to it…” she trails off.
“Why did you stop?” I ask out of concern and turn around to her. She looks upset. “What is it?”
“We are back at the train station,” she says simply.
“How about you tell me more on the train?”
She smiles with one of the purest, happiest smiles I have seen her give me yet. “I would like that.”
A pony trots up to us, “Ah, good. I thought that you vould nat show.”
“And who might you be?” Sunny asks.
The pony rolls his eyes and motions for us to follow. We share glances before both shrugging. We follow him up to the wood platform, the train is already in and waiting. “You are de last to come,” he says.
“We just get on?” I ask. He nods, a slight look of frustration, or perhaps vexation, spread across his muzzle. He waves towards the train one final time before stomping away. “Well… do you have your things?” I ask, turning to Sunny.
“Yes, I even have a few books for the train ride just in case I am able to tell you everything there is to know about magic.”
I laugh a little in a sheepish manner. “Great,” I say, with a hint of sarcasm. “Let’s get going then.”
She walks over to the stairs leading down, jumps down them, and reaches under grabbing something. When she comes up she is holding a saddlebag in her mouth. She sets the double-sided bag onto her back and secures it in place.
We step onto the train, only to find a few others on. We search for a place to sit, which is an incredibly easy task. We find a mostly empty compartment-cabin that has only one other inhabitant, who is thankfully sleeping. Sunny takes off her bag, and sets it in the space under the seats.
Before I have the chance to sit down myself, she turns to me. “Now where was I? Oh yes, the solar spell,” she says, practically beaming with joy. I grin as sheepishly as I can.
--- --- ---
“We will be arriving at Canterlot within the next five minutes. Please make sure you have all of your belongings as you depart from the train. Thank you,” a work-pony informs. She tips her hat before moving on to a different compartment-cabin.
I turn to Sunny, smiling sarcastically, slightly relieved inside. “Sorry, but it looks like you will need to explain your theory on why wing size affects more than just possible flight speed but also the base agility the pony has at a later time.”
“Yeah, I guess I will,” she says, somewhat bummed out. “On the bright side I get to see Canterlot for the first time.”
“Yeah! I wonder what it will be like,” I chime. I see the hesitation plastered across her face. “Come on,” I grab her hoof and lead her to the door; only slowing to give her enough time to grab her bag. We arrive at the piston-controlled door, and with a slight groan the pistons start to open the door. I become blinded by the light. I look out, greeted by beauty.
Elegant, white towers with golden roofing flak the distant horizon, each stretching high into the sky. In contrast, the veranda looks miserable, and dull: tents and crates; animals not unlike sheep being led into fences; ponies standing around with faces of fear and worry.
They appear to be ponies from all over the region, from every corner and crevice of Equestria (except the Crystal Empire). Desperate, sad, and still miserable, they don’t look like they carry any hope.
“Why did you decide to come?” Sunny Dance, the smaller mare next to me, asks.
Without turning my gaze away, I answer her. “I didn’t,” I say, my words flowing steady and strong, without the slightest hint of hesitation or detestment hidden away in it. From the corner of my vision, I see one of her forehooves cover her mouth in an attempt to stifle a gasp I assume. “It isn’t that bad. I’m glad I came. I got to talk with you after all.” I smile at her.
That seems to have helped, but she is still put off. “Why? Why come? You could end up losing everything. You could—”
“But I won’t! Anything I have left to lose is my life, and that won’t be taken anytime soon,” I shout, grabbing the attention of all around. They turn and stare, fear and helplessness as only things present in their eyes.
Sunny takes a step back. She doesn’t say anything, but pain is evident in her eyes. She gallops off, not knowing where she is going (since she has never been here before, it is safe to assume that at least).
I take off myself, but not after her. No. I go to the nearest guard. I approach a massive white stallion. “Where might I see the Princess?”
“Um… well, the Princesses aren’t—”
“Where?”
He gulps. “In the court. They are discussing how they want to act.”
“Thank you,” I say with an insincere smile. And I turn to make my way to this court.
Even if I don’t have a clue as to where I am going, by some pure coincidence, I know that I will end up there at an opportune time. The higher altitude is leading to colder temperatures, I note with a shiver.
I stumble past tents filled with ponies. I watch their faces as they look up to me. They all look confused, and like the rest scared and afraid. But some look on with a sort of puzzlement. Most likely because I am carrying myself with strength… at least, that’s what I hope they’re giving me that look for.
Once I pass the tents, I am surprised to see that the rest of the city is perfectly normal. Sure there are a couple foreigners like me, but otherwise it is just the Canterlot ponies that fill the streets and restaurants. I follow my nose as I pick up something hearty.
I am led to a small restaurant that seems to be getting no business. A swing door is set up. I push it once, watching as it sways back and forth before it stops and comes to a stand still. I push it once more to watch the door sway again, a smug look of satisfaction on my face. I go to do it again, but a voice shouts from inside. “Come in, or leave!”
How nice, I think. I’ve never been to an “insult-restaurant” before.Do they serve insult, or is that a side… why am I being mean? I must just be exhausted. Four and a half hours of nothing but pure, straight, and undefiled magic theory would make anypony tired.
Except Sunny... “What have I done?” I ask myself, dread washing through my whole body.
“I told you to come in or leave. I don’t care about your emotional turmoil over a stupid door or something or whatever. I’ve got ponies to feed, and one less will make it easier.” A mare says, only a hint of satisfaction spread on her face as I pushed open the door.
Stepping inside, the hearty aroma wafts through the entire place. “I’d like a table for one,” I tell her.
“Make that a table for two,” I turn and see Tilde standing there with a friendly smile on his face.
From behind him I can hear another voice, but this one is a mare. “No, make it a table for three.”
“One, two, three, it doesn’t matter how many there are of ya. You’ll get whatever table I give you.” I am not liking this mare. She seems really… uptight, and snobby. Well, snobby is going too far, but uptight still fits. “You’ll have to wait five minutes to be seated,” she sneers.
I walk out the swing-door. “What are you guys doing here?”
Sunny answers first. “I was hungry, and I followed my nose.”
“I was getting followed, so I came here when I saw you.” Both Sunny and I look incredulously towards Tilde. He shrugs us off.
“Excuse me, ma'ams and sir, but would it be possible if I join you at your table? See, if I were to try to get a table on my own, I would be turned away.” I look up to see a cloaked figure, barely peeking from out of their hood are two small white fangs barely and the whites of the pony’s otherwise bright green eyes.
The pony looks familiar, almost as if I have seen them before. “Um… do I know you?”
They shake their head. “No ma’am. I noticed this little group forming and needed to eat. So I thought it was the best chance I would get to eat.” The voice is definitely that of a stallion. “And if it is any consolation, I can pay for myself,” he added.
“Hmm…” I think aloud. “Would you pay for me as well?” I ask with a bat of my eyes.
“For you, yes.” I look for more details on him. I can see very little, but from what I can see is that his coat is blue and that he most likely has wings.
“What about her?” I ask, pointing at Sunny.
He taps one of his hooves to his chin. “Well, it will put a damper on my coin-purse, but I don’t see why not.”
I smile at him. He is either really nice, a fool, or has alternative motives, I think in my head. And if I had to go with anything… I’d have to go with him having alternative motives. “Something is just fishy…” I accidentally blurt out in a soft whisper.
The stallion lets out a small chuckle. “It should be. Tonight is fish night here, so most of the ingredients will be fish based. But I am sure that they have more… animal friendly things available,” he adds after a careful pause.
I am having a hard time with trusting this pony. He seems sneaky and clever. He must be hiding something. I don’t see what else could explain the strange feeling I am having.
“Hey, your table is ready,” the mare points out from inside.
I sigh and push the swing-door open. I step inside the place of eating and am surprised to find a fully furnished table, set with silverware, glasses of water, and many other things I couldn’t even begin to name off. “Wow! This is better than I thought it would look,” I admit.
“Thanks, it’s not like it took long to set up or anything,” the waitress says with both sarcasm and a sneer.
Ignoring her, I almost sashay to one of the large cushions put out on the floor around the large, circular table. I take notice of two candle sticks in the center of the table, or perhaps they are incense (as they seem to be making the room have a different aroma the closer they are). The cushion is like one of the largest and softest pillows I have ever sat on. I continue to sink into it the more my weight rests into it.
The others take a seat, including the cloaked pony... and like myself, they all sink down into the comfortable pillow (some more than other probably). The waitress comes around the table, dropping each of us a menu. Like the restaurant, the menus are fancy (not that rich snobby fancy, but fancy compared to what I was used to. Add in the fact that each menu is laminated, and it becomes a much bigger deal.)
The pony in the cloak glances around the place slowly but carefully. After a few scans, he seems satisfied and reaches up with his blue forehoof and proceeds to pull off his hood. One of the first things that comes to my focus is his ears, which unlike normal ears his seem to be more pointed and split ever-so-slightly at the ends. His eyes are less rounded and more slanted than normal as well.
He sees that I am practically staring non-stop at him and gives a smile. Two small fangs adorn the corners of his mouth. I hear the waitress sigh as she sees him. This isn’t very strange, but that thought I had on him having wings is looking more and more promising. I can tell because of the way his muzzle points upwards in the smallest bit at the end.
“Look, if I have to feed a Thestral then I am doubling the amount needed to pay,” the waitress huffs.
This instantly breaks my focus. “What?!” I snap at her. “Why? What did he ever do to you?”
She stomps her hoof, and I quickly back up slightly. “Now you look here. The Thestral are to blame for what is happening now. They’re part of the main reason why all this bad stuff is happening.” She paused, shooting the “Thestral” a glare. “So, I won’t stand here and let one pounce about and act like they own the place,” she says, with a slight undertone of challenge.
“They started…” I began to mutter, a bit confused. I stop myself. I stomp my hoof back at her jumping up from the cushion. “How is it their fault? I’m sure he—” I point towards the cloaked pony “—hasn’t done anything wrong!” I yell at her, almost challenging her to make a comeback.
She sends me a glare, which makes me rather afraid to be anywhere near her, but I refuse to back down. “Do you know that these Thestrals helped break Tirek out of Tartarus and with the help of some unwilling Unicorn brought back Sombra? And they have since teamed up with them to help conquer Equestria to enslave us all.”
“What proof do you have? Besides you can’t blame all for the actions of a few,” I snarl.
Her eye twitches. At that moment, I realize that every eye in the restaurant is on us (well, out of the few that are in there). “Get out!” she shouts.
“What?” I ask absentmindedly, having been distracted by eyes.
“Get out of my restaurant and don’t come back!” I look to the others, and they shrug back at me. “Go! Get!”
I start to trot to the door, glancing back one more time to see the others standing up and preparing to leave. The cloaked pony throws his hood back on, and the rest are already moving to the door.
I step out into the cold, evening air. It’s midday, and the air is freezing to me. What kind of place is this? I take a gander at the sky to see dark, heavy clouds. “Oh…” I mutter aloud. The others make it outside just as the first few drops come down.
“Brr,” Sunny Dance exclaims shortly after stepping out.
I see the cloaked pony take off his cloak and throw it onto Sunny covering and protecting her from the rain. “Here you are. Wouldn’t want you to get sick,” he says with a slight smile.
“Oh, thank you,” she smiles, looking at him. Her smile reveals her teeth, and other than this one random small spot that looks like lettuce or something else just as hideous, they are perfectly white. Good, strong teeth… why am I focusing on her teeth?
I steal a chance to check out the now uncloaked pony. He has a solid blue coat and a brown mane and tail. His mane, while cut, is longer than most stallions would have. And his wings are perhaps most interesting. They are large, leathery instead of feathered, and a charcoal black, with the blue coat color still tracing along the bone structure of the wings.
He isn’t a Pegasus. I know that much. He reminds me of a bat. “What are you?” I blink as I realize what I just did. “Whoops… meant to only think that,” I gulp with a slight blush across my face.
“How about we get out of the rain, then we talk?” he says, not responding to my accidental blurt much to my appreciation. We all nod at the question. “And I know a place that will be dry.”
“Lead the way,” I tell him. I’ll be keeping an extra eye on him though. “And think you can make it quick? It is getting cold up here.” He doesn’t even finish his nod before trotting to the front of our group.
--- --- ---
He pushes a broken down sliding door to the side and we all run in as quickly as we can. Once inside, he pulls it shut. With the dark, almost ominous clouds covering the sun, it is hard to see anything. “Don’t worry. I have a lantern over there,” he is most likely pointing off in some direction, but I can’t see anything past my hooves. How helpful.
I hear hoofsteps on the paved group, each step rhythmic and even. Exactly the same distance apart from each other… Whoever they belong to must be trained in one of the many forms of Martial Hoof, or even worse is trained to make their steps practically vanish on almost any surface. As soon as I find out who they belong to I’ll—
Light floods the room from somewhere, and I am blinded. I cover my eyes with my left foreleg. It takes a little bit, but my eyes slowly become adjusted to the light. As soon as I can make out the tiniest bit of detail around me, I lower my foreleg slightly to allow room to see into the room. I squint as I try to make out more than just the fuzzy detail around me.
“Sorry,” I hear somepony say, but with my focus on my sight I can’t figure out who said it. The light starts to dim, but it doesn’t vanish, it only turns down to an amount that I can actually see against. I lower my foreleg setting it back on the floor where it should stay.
“I didn’t mean to turn it up so high, and I was blinded by the light. So it took me a little while to turn the light down again,” I hear and see the non-Pegasus “Pegasus” say. “Now, I would be more than happy to answer any questions you might have.”
“Do you have anything to eat in here?” Tilde asks without any hesitation. Of course.
“Um… no,” the pony answers with a frown.
“What is your name? You haven’t told us,” I think for a moment. “My name is Night Zone.”
“And I’m Sunny Dance. Would you like your cape thing back?” she asks, staring at the dark fabric in an attempt to identify what it was again.
“It is lovely to meet you both. I am Mist. And yes, if you don’t need it any further, I would like my cloak back,” he replies in a friendly tone. He trots over to a bag sitting on the floor, opens it up, and searches for something inside.
He pulls out a small flask-like object, opens it up, and pours a silvery liquid all over the floor around him. “What are you doing?” Sunny beats me to the questioning. Darn.
“I am masking our scents. In case any… unwanted attention should fall upon us.”
“Who is it that might bring that?” she continues to question.
“It could be anypony, but I do not know right now,” he answers with a soothing tone.
I stop paying attention to the banter Sunny and Misk seem to be having and begin to look around. It seems Tilde has the same idea. I take a scan of the room, trying to find anything that sticks out.
The entire room is incredibly large. It is exactly like a storage building. I can even see a few massive crates spread throughout the room. Some metal stairs lead up to a catwalk. There aren’t any windows. There are only three exits, by what I can see from where I’m standing. One we came on through, and the other two, a huge, metal sliding door the color of the walls and a small wooden door located at the end of the catwalk that is painted like the metal (but lacking the qualities that the look of metal has). It doesn’t appear to lead outside, but into a suspended little office room or something like that.
I trot over to the metal stairs. I set a foreleg on the first step and push down. It groans a little under the weight, but it doesn’t break. I jump onto the first step, making sure that I land only on the step. With a small thud, it still doesn’t break.
I smile with satisfaction as I begin to climb the stairs. On the catwalk I see small grating holes lining the bottom spreading the entire length of them. As I walk across, I can tell that they are being used as a sort of traction device to help keep everypony from falling off. This would be a hard place to sneak, as every step leads to some noise or another.
The catwalk has railing as well, but it barely reaches the bends of my legs. If anything, the only thing this railing will be helping with is causing somepony to fall, not stopping them from falling. And what good is having it then. At most this would stop colts and fillies from falling. Genius designers.
I shake my head. I am already at the door. I pause to look at the railing again. Stop thinking about the peculiarities of rails. Resuming my quest, I tap a hoof on the door. It sounds hollow, and it feels wooden (mahogany I believe). I reach for the doorknob, and give it a twist. For some reason it is locked.
I tap the door slightly harder to see if anything would happen, and my hoof goes through. “Whoops,” I whisper to myself. I pull my hoof out and start to break it apart enough to let me hop through.
Splinters jab their way into my hoof, but I ignore it as I continue to break apart the door. Wood chips spread the flooring inside of the room. Wait… I set my splinter-ridden hoof on the catwalk, and reach my good hoof in. I feel around until I find a little lock. I give it a turn and hear a soft click as the door unlocks.
I turn the knob once again and push it open. Inside I can see many beakers, and test tubes resting on several tables. And unlike the rest of the storage building there is a window, but by the looks of it, it is a one-way mirror-like window.
I trot around looking at each table. There are papers with notes hastily scribbled onto them (that I would say the only pony able to read it is the one who wrote them); Bottles, flask, beakers, and many other containers all filled with a liquid which looks like it moves on its own, almost as if they have a life of their own.
I stop when I see a darker purple liquid in a beaker with one simple word neatly labeled on its side: Sombra. I can see many other colors swirling around occasionally in the beaker, but the two most prominent are dark purple and a brighter green.
“What is this place?” I think aloud.
“A place you shouldn’t have come into,” a deep, sinister voice whispers into my ear.
As my eyes widen, I feel something sink into my neck, a sharp pain constantly stabbing into my skin. My vision begins to blur. I feel… I feel light-headed. I try to scream, but no noise comes out of my opened mouth. My body begins to go limp. I can feel the stabbing pain suddenly leave.
“Now be a good little mare and sleep.”
I try to resist, but my eyes are heavy. My vision is continually becoming worse, and I fall to the ground after two warm things stop touching me. I struggle to keep my eyes opened. I can’t. It is too hard… I… I…
~ ~ ~
I see nothing but blackness, but slowly, very slowly, I begin to hear voices.
“Can we go to the park?”
“If that is what you want, then we will do anything.”
“Yay! We’re going to the park~ We’re going to the park~”
My sight slowly comes back to me. And I can see a little filly with her parents. But… I am in the air and high in the air. Am I? Am I hovering?
I try to move my hoof, but nothing. I feel… sore? Why am I sore? Then I feel it: my sides are moving. Or an extension of my sides. What can it be?
I start moving, but not of my doing. My movements are rigid and clumsy. Exactly like how somepony would move if injured, and badly at that. I hover in the air high above the little family of three.
“When will we get there?” the little filly asks.
“Oh, I think it is only a few minute walk. It isn’t far.”
Through the air, I follow as they make their way to the park that they are talking about. I seem to keep my distance; as if I get close I will be harmed or worse.
“What are you doing?” an authoritative mare’s voice asks.
I turn around to see a cream-colored mare wearing the armor of a royal guard. I take my attention off of the family and slowly I fly my way to the guard. “Apologies,” I say as I get closer and closer. “But it seems that you have let them get away… but no matter. You volunteered.”
“V-volunteered for what?” she asks hesitantly, fear slightly trickling into her voice. She shakes her head and steels herself. “Stay back, or I will use force.”
I chuckle a real low chuckle. My voice comes out like acid. It nearly burns a hole through her. “The problem with a Pegasus is that they seem to think they rule the sky. But they don’t, and I will prove it to you.”
At a greater speed than she could react to, I soar the distance between us, and with a smack from my hoof she goes flying down. I drop into a dive to make up the space she gained away from me. Before she hits the ground, I swipe her up in my hooves and carry her gently to the ground.
We land with a thud and I am on top of her, pinning her to the ground. Fear is the only thing in her eyes now. I lick my lips, open my mouth, and bite down on her neck. My teeth sink down to a vein, and I can taste a sweet nectar flooding my mouth, bringing a warm feeling throughout my body.
She tries to scream, but nothing happens. After a short while my teeth leave her, and I whisper in her ear. “Now be a good guard, and sleep.”
She tries to fight it, but she can’t. Her eyes close and her breathing becomes rhythmic. I cover her face with my wing. I can see that it is leathery and a charcoal black color. I flap my wings once and take to the air.
My vision slowly goes dark as I climb higher and higher. Any sounds are fading away as well. Until I see and hear nothing.
~ ~ ~
I hunch over and vomit the contents of my stomach. My neck feels like it is on fire, and wet. Through my blurred vision I reach for my neck but something stops me. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You need to remain calm.”
I try to focus on the one talking, but my vision is too blurred. My other senses seem to mostly work. I can hear it well enough to know that the voice belongs to Tilde. It isn’t hard to tell his voice from the rest.
A rich and deep tone that brings an air of restfulness. “What happened?” I manage to ask with a contrasting weak tone.
“You were bitten,” I hear somepony else say. “It would have to have been a Vampony. They are the ancient ancestors of the Bat ponies. When others refer to Bat ponies as Thestrals, they are referring to the name of our old ancestors that would drink blood to survive. Though, they are still born it will only be in that family. And once all the Vamponies families die, they will be gone.”
I can smell something being held in front of my mouth. I can’t quite place what the smell belongs to, but it smells familiar. “Relax, it is a bit of a flower, nothing poisonous. I assure you.” I keep my mouth closed. “It will help make you feel better. Once bitten, a pony can sometimes lose their life or become a Servan.”
“What’s a Servan?” I hear Sunny ask.
“Exactly like the name makes it sound. They are the servants to the Vampony that bite them, but they are also called Vamp-minors, because they are minor Vamponies,” the only voice left has to be Must’s. Why does he know so much about all of this?
I open my mouth a crack, and found that is all I can move it. Something, hopefully this flower being talked about, slips into my mouth. “Chew as much as you can; it will speed up the process.” I begin to chew it to the best of my abilities, which just so happens to fall upon five bites.
I swallow it, which feels like a chore. I look on with my blurred vision. Four figures are gathered around me. All looking down at me or they might be. I can’t tell if they are or aren’t. I feel woozy again. Deciding to not fight it, I close my eyes, willfully falling into the tender grip of the darkness on the other side.
--- --- ---
Something cold is running on my shoulder, and neck. It isn’t something that I remember being there. I open my eyes. White? Something of pure white is filling my vision, and it seems to be moving.
“She’s awake!” I hear Sunny’s voice yell excitedly.
The whiteness fades all at once as I close my eyes. After a few seconds I risk it, and open them again. The only blurriness is that which would be in the field of vision normally after waking. I can see! I can see that I am lying down with a damp cloth covering my neck, though I felt that one.
Sunny is sitting with the look of glee on her face. I start to sit up. A throbbing tells me that it is a bad idea, but I continue regardless. “What did I miss?”
“They started doing signings for the first battalion. And nopony stepped forward. That is until an hour ago. One pony with some sort of axe casually trotted up to the tent and came out with their papers saying they joined. After that ponies have slowly been joining,” Tilde explains as he walks up.
“Did you already sign up?” I ask them. Tilde, being Tilde, nods, and Sunny seems hesitant but eventually nods. “Hmm… I see…” I trail off. Of course… why wait on the unconscious pony who hasn’t even figured out if they will join? I move my hooves but they don’t want to move correctly.
“What are you doing?” Tilde asks with the sound of boredom in his voice.
“Trying to get up,” I tell him flatly. Sunny’s horrified expression makes me talk more. “I’m going to go to the signing tent.”
“What!? Why would you do that? You can’t even walk straight,” Sunny testifies.
I somehow struggle to my hooves. My legs tremble below me. I take one step, then another. I fall to the bends of my legs. My breathing runs fast. I push myself up once again, sweat falling down and running to my hooves. I can tell that I am covered in sweat.
With a realized sense of vigor I take several steps. My hoof lands on the ground, and it gives way. The world turns sideways as the floor comes to give me a hug. My side grows in pain as we embrace. Salty tears well up in my eyes, and I try to hold them back to little success. “Are you okay?!” Sunny asks worriedly.
“Yup…” I barely breath out.
“You just fell,” she informs me. I shake my head the best I can, while still in the loose embrace of the floor. “You look like you are about to cry…”
“It’s a very emotional time for the floor and I. We just got back together,” I tell her. I hear Tilde snicker a little, but Sunny isn’t as amused.
“Let’s get you someplace soft so you can rest.”
She trots over to me and attempts to lift me onto her back with little success. Tilde leaves the room before Sunny can ask him anything. “Great… I’ll just carry you myself,” she huffs.
I try to stand one more time, but Sunny prevents me from doing so. No matter how much I resist, she blocks me from getting up by sitting on me. She doesn’t press her weight down, but it is enough to stop me from moving about.
“Just let me go,” I cry out.
“No, you’ll try running off and then you will get hurt. And I’ll be worrying about you the entire time.” She presses down more on me.
“Oww, that hurts! If you want to sit on me, fine. But at least do it softer,” I tell her as I feel even more weight coming down on me. It is like being a rock in a crusher. “Hey!”
She finally notices and shifts most of her weight off. I gasp for some air I didn’t know I needed. “Sorry, but my decision stands. You shouldn’t go out, not until you are better.”
“But I am better. Walking and talking will only increase the greatness and the feeling that I’ll become super-Zone,” I attempt to convince her with a pained smile.
She doesn’t buy into it though. She looks at me for half a minute before she gets off me. “Fine, but you don’t get help walking. The next time you fall you have to come back. Promise?”
I gulp. “Promise,” I say still on the ground. I begin to stand. It is a struggle, but I somehow manage to once again become standing.
“No, pinkie promise me,” I look to see her have the saddest face I’ve ever seen.
“Cross my heart, and hope to fly… um… stick a cupcake in my eye?” I try.
It is harder than it looks… or sounds I mean. Having to remember something like that. “Hey.” and not being able to know it perfectly. “Hey.” Sure. I could pretend that I knew it, but I really— “Hey!”
“What?!”
“Knew it. You weren’t paying attention,” she remarks.
I groan. “Fine! Yes, I wasn’t. I was thinking about how hard it is to remember a pinkie promise.” She stares at me with what I can only call speculation. “What?! I was!”
“Right,” Sunny sighs, her care leaving.
“I mean it!”
She doesn’t seem to care about it all that much, but she does look a little happier about my persistance. Or she is plotting against me and plans to use me as some sort of leverage against Tirek and Sombra somehow.
“I’m going to go now, and I’ll remember our promise,” she instantly becoming that of relief.
I check around me to find that I am still in the storage building's upper room. I start my trudge to the catwalk. I remember several months ago I was working with some construction business, and I kept calling it a “walk of crates.” The boss yelled at me so many times that it became drilled into my head to call it by the proper name.
I stumble, to the best of my hazy abilities, down the catwalk and I manage to make it to the stairs in record time (f record time is two minutes more than when I crossed it earlier). I half-tumble, half-stumble, and half-trudge down the metal steps.
The floor is cool on my fetlocks, and I can feel an unnecessary dampness soaking my hooves. Something that could only happen if it rained recently, leaked inside, froze, thawed out, and evaporated within the course of a day or two.
Across the huge room I can see Tilde poking something with a stick, or maybe he is just drawing something on the floor with the stick. What he might be using the thing to do is rather bizarre, but I know where I should be heading. So I try not to contemplate it any further.
I trot the few steps to the broken sliding door and slide it open. With a bustling movement it comes out of place and with a thump it falls to the hard stone lining the ground outside. I step through the doorway out into the cold rain.
My legs tremble with every step, the rain soaking my coat, drenching me to my core. The shivers wouldn't stop coming, but I walk with indifference to it. Ten minutes have passed since I left the storage building, and I have been able to reach the location where the recruitment tent is located.
Through the dense screen the water is creating, I see it. As small as it is I can see it. White. Not just any white, but a dirty white. The kind of white that the tents use to shield the insides from the elements.
Trudging through the water coating the street, I can make out more of the tent’s details as I come closer to it. Much like around the tents I saw when I had first arrived in Canterlot I can see ponies scuffling about and talking to each other. They are all wearing cloaks and various kinds of rain protection. In the not-so-far distance, a pony is looking out at me with curiosity.
The pony yells something at me, though the rain reduces whatever is said to but a near whisper.
“What?” I try to yell back. But my throat is scratchy and my voice comes out as a hoarse mess of coughs.
Once I draw closer the pony tries again. “Excuse me! Would you like to sign-up for the first wave against a naughty group of ponies and a Centaur?” I come almost face to face, yet this pony is unusual. They lack the features that define whether a pony is a mare or stallion (in fact I am tempted to call them both).
I can’t quite make the full features of their face, but they seem to have the characteristics of a Pegasus. “Yes…” I trail off as I hear my own voice. I sound so weak. My voice barely sounds as loud as a brussel sprout falling onto the ground from somepony's countertop.
“Say no more. I can tell you can’t.” Their tone is calm, yet it carries some sort of calculated subtle layer in there somewhere. They adjust their hat to cover their face from the ever changing direction of the rain. “Some ponies can be rather harsh. But if not enough ponies sign up—well. Enough will sign up.” They pause and then hold open the tent flap, pointing inward with a hoof. “Right this way,” they say, giving a small bow.
I step inside the dry tent, hearing hoofsteps moving away from behind me. Guess they’re done with standing around in the rain. My attention shifts to the interior of the tent. A barrel or two, some boxes and crates probably filled with resources, and a table with chairs surrounding every side.
Ponies fill the chairs, all wearing hard expressions and fancy clothes (not the “frilly fru-fru dresses” type of fancy, but the Wonderbolt or E.U.P. kind of fancy: tactful, sleek, and hoof-stitched).
They all must be high command or of great importance. A near white, light blue Pegasus stands. “Hello,” he greets with an almost goofy tone (though it is most likely his natural voice). “You must be here to sign up… is that correct?”
I nod, since my voice will most likely be hoarse still. He seems to notice it. “Would you like some water?” My eyes widen a little. “I’ll just take that as a yes,” he chuckles lightly.
He reaches onto the table and picks up a styrofoam cup filled with a clear liquid. He balances it on his wing as he gives it to me. I pick it up in my magical grasp to find that it is rather heavy, like all things.
I levitate it to my lips and take a long swig of the warm liquid. “This is tea,” I finally manage to say, though my voice is still far from being normal.
He looks a little sheepish. “Whoops, sorry about that. I’m commander Soarin of the Wonderbolt. You still wish to sign… right?”
“Yes.” I nod the reply in case my voice still isn’t strong enough to reach them. I take another sip of the warm liquid. Something about it is familiar, but it tastes exactly like a hibiscus—only it has some sort of minty after-flavor.
I can feel the tea’s warmth spreading through my body. It should only be a matter of time before I am back to normal. “Great!” Commander Sore Limb picks up a clipboard and a quill. “Here,” he says behind a mouthful, but it still comes through quite clear (as if he has spoken with his mouth full of things on many occasions).
I levitate it over to myself, starting with the clipboard, and as soon as it reaches my hooves, I grab the quill. “Won’t I need ink?” I examine the quill, noticing something is different about it.
He chuckles lightly once again. “No, that is one of those new feather-pens. They carry ink inside of them,” he tells me with a smile.
After a moment of questionable looks, I shrug, and begin to fill out the form.
Name: Night Zone Gender: Mare Age(optional): ____ Race: Unicorn Country of Residence: Equestria Township(if any): Ponyville Occupation: Between Jobs
“Is all of this information necessary?” I think aloud.
“Ya know, she is havin’ trouble wit it,” a mare sighs.
“Naw, she jus’ have the need ta think,” another says. “She look like one ah them dummy tha’ full Equine.”
“What?! No, I finished,” I retort, but it seems they had begun to talk with each other and had forgotten about me. I levitate the feather-pen and the clipboard back over to commander Dopin’. “Here commander.”
He notices that I am trying to give him the items and his attention returns back to me. He grabs them in his mouth and seems to mouth the entries as he reads them. “Wait, you’re actually a mare?”
“Yes!” I half-shout behind a slight warmth in my face. Something was funny enough to make everypony else laugh, and it isn't small chuckling either but full on laughter. They start to sit down around the table once again and discuss the form. I had tried to listen to what they were talking about, but the warm tea kept my attention and I continued to sip on it.
“Looks good to me,” commander Sauron declares. He grabs a little ribbon (or an object that is similar along that line of looks), he tosses it in my direction. “Here. When we move out show, that and you will be allowed to board the train. We leave in two days. Meet the group at the train station at noon.”
I sip more tea, sighing deeply in relief. What good tea, I think to myself. “I understand.” I levitate the ribbon and hold it up to my eyes. From what I can tell it is, in fact, a ribbon (a purple ribbon, with a basic fold to match that of the honor award of valor and dedication, given only to the highest acting citizen. Next to the award for directly saving Equestria, it is the best thing given to anypony who has sacrificed all for the good of Equestria or the world. Though it is normally only given to those who have… not returned).
“Um… thanks for the tea, but I have somewhere to be. I’ll just be going now.” I turn around to leave, but I am stopped by them, not physically, but with a question.
“But you don’t have a way to protect you from the rain. Will you be alright, or would you like to borrow something and give it back later?” I turn my head to them. Clear concern is etched onto Boring’s facial features.
“I’ll be fine. I don’t have far to go,” I lie.
He looks at me for several seconds, as if deciding what he wants to do. “Alright then, but be careful. The streets should be a little slippery.”
I nod and open the tent flap to make my leave. I step out into the dark night, where the cold rain continues to hammer down onto the streets and myself. I take a few steps before I am unable to stop from shuddering once or twice.
My breath condenses into vapor with every exhale. The cold fills my lungs, and the water fills and floods my cup of tea. I drop the cup mournfully and work my way down the street, the tent slowly disappearing into the distance.
I trudge my hooves through the ever growing water levels (which is strange now that I think about it. I once read that the city has a great water clearing system. Small chambers run under the entire place, collecting and depositing the rain into a waterfall that flows down the mountain, and all over Equestria by means of a river. But most of the time it is turned into pristine water for those high-class ponies to have with their meals).
I exhale another breath as I reach a set of stairs at the end of an alley. Water flows down the steps in a somewhat harmonic way. Clouds cover the moon, masking its light from the alleyway. I can’t see more than five hooves around me, and three hooves in front of me is the location of the stairs. My right legs give out and I fall to my side with a splash.
If I was cold before, then I am freezing now. I try to lift my head above the water, but find it hard. I cough every time water fills my mouth and nostrils. I push on the stone below me with my right forehoof, but it can only keep my head above the water.
“If I can get to the stairs, I could sit on them. And not worry about drowning while I recover some more strength,” I think weakly aloud.
I begin to drag myself the few hoof-lengths to the stairs, but as I reach the first step down I am dragged into the current. And I begin to topple over and down the stairs. One turn, two turns. I stumble head over tail as I keep moving down the stairs until I reach the bottom. And with a splump, I crash into the bottom of the stairs. Much like the alleyway, my vision goes dark. Not just that, but I seem to be getti—
~ ~ ~
I look into the mirror. I tidy the scarf and adjust my hat. “Hello,” I say to my reflection in the mirror. “While you jack my vision, you will notice that I have on this scarf and hat. You may have also noticed that I adjusted both to be in a specific place.”
What?
“You are confused. That is understandable. You've only had one other dream of this nature, and I can understand why you are confused.”
Can you hear me?
“Yes, I can indeed hear you.” I take in my features and notice stripes.
Are you a Zebra?
“No. I am quite a pony. But we won’t have much more time, and I need to tell you about a few things.”
Who are you?
“That is inconsequential, but what I need to say is important, and you need to listen.”
If you aren't a Zebra, how are you a pony?
“I’m just going to ignore that. Now, in two days time, from where you are at, you will be leaving in the first wave. It will fall. Tirek and Sombra have already devised a plan to take care of all of you. Only a hoof-full will survive with their power intact.”
How do you know that? Why am I dreaming? What is going on?
“Shh—” I say, moving away from the mirror “—everything will be answered with time. But you need to make sure you can join the first wave. Everything will fall apart if you are not there. Equestria will fall.”
What? Why?
“All in good time. Just wake up. You need to wake up. And remember you have to do it.”
~ ~ ~
I burst up from the covers, the blanket falling to the floor. Blanket? I set my hoof on the stone below me, only to find mattress under my touch. I finally look around the room, and find that I am in a nicely furnished room.
The room is round with a true-white wall. A desk sits in the corners. Windows on either side of the bed allow only the tiniest amount of light in by only a crack in their curtains. And at the foot of the bed at the wall is a simple wooden door.
I check the bed to find that it is incredibly luxurious—covered in some of the finest cloth I have ever seen or felt. I push the soft warm blanket off of me and it falls softly to the floor. I can see the floor; it is covered with a rich green carpet.
I stand up from the bed and move over to the left window. I pull back the curtain using the drawstring. Light floods the room instantaneously. I cover my eyes in an attempt to shield them from the harsh light. There is a knock on the door.
“Um… yes?” I call out.
The door opens slowly. A white hoof steps through the door before the rest of the body and head follow. I know this pony… who doesn't know this pony? “P-princess,” I say as I hurriedly bow.
“Please, stand,” she says, raising her hoof. “How was your sleep? Did you rest well?” she asks in a slower, calming tone.
“Um… yes. I feel refreshed…”
“And?” She raises her eyebrow. She really does seem to care, that or she is very good at deception. I’ll have to update the others when I get back.
“Well… um… if I may be frank,” I pause, looking up to her. And she nods her head in approval “how did I get here? And where is here?”
“You are in a guest room at the castle, my little pony. My sister Luna brought you in last night when she saw you had collapsed down some stairs in the middle of the rain. You slept for most of the day. It’s a couple hours past noon now,” she tells me. A warm smile gently resting on her muzzle, she looks down at me with kindness (or deceit, I have yet to tell). “I've also brought you something to eat.”
She walks back to the door in an even pace and levitates a platter with ease. She carries in a little folding table with her as well. She unfolds the table and sets the platter on top of it. I trot back to the bed and sit at one side of the table. Celestia sits at the other side.
She removes the lid on the platter to reveal two plates of pancakes, covered with fruits and lots of whip cream. I pick up one of the forks in my left forehoof and levitate the knife the best I can. Suddenly, I feel a small pinch in my horn. I give. I drop the knife where it was and proceed to stab one of the pieces of finely cut up fruit.
I bring it to my lips and take a bit. “Wow… fresh,” I mumble with the fruit still in my mouth. I stab another and another, bringing those into my mouth to chew. I see Celestia slowly cutting and eating her own pancakes and fruit. “Have you not eaten yet?”
“No,” she sighs in a slightly defeated tone. “I've been incredibly busy most of the day, and visiting you was mostly an excuse for me to eat. But I am glad you’re doing better.” She takes another bite. “I've noticed that you gave up on using the knife.” I grimace at what she might say next “Is it because you haven’t been trained to properly use your magic before?”
I bite the blueberry and stare down at the table. “No…” I whisper.
She wipes my mouth with a napkin, and I look up at her. What is she up to? “I can see if one of the royal guards would be willing to train you to use your magic better. Only if you’d like of course.”
“Um… yes… I mean no… I mean yes, ugh,” I slam my head on the table. I can tell she moved the plate out of the way to allow my head to only hit the platter and table (much better than it hitting the food). I take a few breaths and calm my racing mind. Slowly I lift my head back up. “I would like that… thank you.”
She smiles at me as she sets the plate of food back down where it was and levitates the fork out to me in the air. I grab it once again and stab another piece of fruit.
--- --- ---
We turn the corner of the hall, and I can see the guards straighten their posture as they notice us walking from around the corner. I turn towards Celestia as she is heading back to where she needs to go with me tagging along. We pass the guards and make another turn. “They were slacking. Is it okay not to say anything?”
“I think it’s okay to let them slack a little. If they were all serious one hundred percent of the time, then they would be exhausted when they were actually needed,” she says. “We’ll be nearing the end of this little tour. I've really got to get back to planning.”
“Um, Celestia…”
“Yes?”
“Um… well… never mind,” I stop myself. Why do I not want to tell her about my dream? In fact, I feel as if I shouldn't tell anypony.
We reach a massive door. She opens it with ease using her magic. She steps through and I can see her throne, the place from where she makes commands. This must be the castle atrium or perhaps the grand hall. Either way, it is massive.
She heads over to the throne, but stops to talk with one of the Unicorn guards. After a brief moment the guard salutes and turns to me, trotting the distance as Celestia continues towards the throne.
“Hello miss. Ah’m supposed to teach you the wonders of marehood,” she tells me.
“I see. That’s goo—what!?” She breaks into laughter and waves her hoof a few times.
“Nah, Ah’m just supposed to teach you some magic, or train you, as the Princess said.” She starts to trot in one of those fast paced trots. “This way,” she says, passing me.
I follow behind her as she leads me down multiple hallways, until we finally stop by a courtyard. Or by the flora (and little bit of fauna): a garden. “We’ll train here.” She pulls out a blindfold. “And here, you’ll need this for some of it.”
--- --- ---
I collapse to the ground gasping for air. “Come on. We have only been doing this for five hours. You can take a break later,” Inverse yells, her bright green coat as dry as a bone. “Again.”
I stand to my hooves. With a cloudy mind I try to focus on her. My magical field slowly wraps around her. After I envelope her with the field, I begin to lift her up. She slowly rises into the air. Her hooves barely look like they are off the ground, but she is going up. I put more energy into lifting her, and find that she goes up a little more.
But like all the other attempts, as soon as I add more energy, I fail; and my magical field shatters. She drops to the ground, landing smoothly on her hooves. “Really? Ah can jump higher than that,” her tone is harsh, and I can’t help but feel it is also condescending.
“I tried! I just don’t know what went wrong. I was… I was doing great, but whenever I try to give it more power and energy, it breaks apart,” I half say, half sob.
She trots in her fast pace back to me and sets one hoof on my shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Ah’m not the best magic trainer in the castle for nothing… the only better would be the Princesses of course.” She looks up to the sky. “Hmm… let’s get inside. You will need some food. And Ah've got patrol duty to get back too.”
“Don’t you need food?”
“Nah, Ah ate a big breakfast, besides Ah've only got an hour left before Ah’m off for the day anyway.” She starts her fast trot for the doors leading inside. “Come on, we need to get some food in ya!”
I gallop to catch up to her. She leads the way around. We stop in some sort of dining hall. She directs me to one of the chairs set around the gigantic wooden table. Fruits of all sizes are placed in a bowl in the table’s center.
A door opens and a dark blue mare walks in, yawning as if she just woke up. Her horn lights up with similar dark blue glow. I spot from the corner of my eye a banana floating up from the bowl of assorted fruits. She peels the core from the protective soft shell and throws the core aside, tossing the shell into her mouth. She chews and then swallows.
I stare at the pony in awe. After a moment, she notices and asks. “What is it that you look at?” She looks at me, before she leaning in closer. “Do I know you?”
“You just left the core of that banana. It’s wasteful…” I trail off as Inverse nudges my side. I look at her to see her standing at attention.
“Princess Luna, I’m off,” she says, giving a firm salute before turning and leaving out the door we came into.
“Wait… you’re Luna?”
Luna cocks her head slightly, as if regarding me as something strange.
“Um… well… um… thank you for saving me last night…” I barely manage to say.
Her eyes light up. “Oh, that’s how I know you. Yes, you are quite welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some duties to attend to.” She gives me a smile and walks out a door, leaving me standing in this huge dining hall all alone.
I sit down at one of the chairs and wait. I poke at the table for a while. I don’t know exactly how long, but I do know that my head is on the table and my hoof is poking in front of it.
One of the doors practically flies open, and several hooffalls echo around the hall. I turn my head to see Celestia gracefully attempt to flop down in the chair at the end. A few other ponies take seats at the table as well. All of them seem to have a different type of salad.
Somepony sets down a bowl in front of my resting head. “Time to eat. Ah know it isn't what you might want, but you need to gain your strength. We leave out tomorrow.”
I look up to see Inverse with her own bowl of salad. She sits down in the chair next to me. “Inverse, how did her training go?” I hear Celestia ask quietly.
“Ah’m fairly certain something is blocking her ability to use magic,” she replies.
I didn't bother moving my head and I just continue to listen to them speak, feeling a bit drowsy.
--- --- ---
I rest my head down on the pillow in the guest room and pull the blanket over me. “I feel exhausted,” I mumble to nopony. The night has come, and it isn't raining. My first non-rainy night here in Canterlot, at least while being awake.
I turn over in the bed. “There has to be a way for me to be able to use magic. I can’t be some… some useless Unicorn, can I?” I pull my forehooves out from under the covers and stare at the midnight blue hooves. “Inverse said that something is stopping me from being able to use magic properly… could it be that I just don’t have the ability to use it?”
I relax the best I can on the soft mattress and close my eyes, dropping my hooves back under the covers. “I can use magic… but can I use magic?” I think back to what Sunny told me on the way to the train station.
My eyes fly open. “Am I not giving the correct type of energy?” I sit up at the realization. “That must be it!” I quietly exclaim, stumbling out of bed towards the window. Frantically, I pull the drawstring to reveal a full moon that covers the expanse of the flickering night sky. “How exactly does one choose the type of energy that they give as a command to their horn?”
“Aristrotle, hmm? That is only a theoretical notion. You really shouldn't blame your inability on such a…. lucrative idea,” an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere. I turn around to see nothing. Nopony has entered the room.
“Who… said that?”
“Forgive me.” A figure materializes with a shimmering of the air in the room’s center. I jump back, smacking into the wall. The voice continues, “I was passing through, and I couldn't help but hear your complaints at such... a delicate situation that has befallen you.”
The cloak covering this figure seems familiar, but it is much, much larger than any other cloak I have ever seen. “Who… are you…” I cock my head to the side. “Or what are you?” I rephrase. They are at least as tall as Celestia, if not taller. “And what do you mean by ‘delicate situation’?”
“Your ‘inability’ to use magic. But I should assure you: you can use magic. You just aren't skilled at using the spells that you keep trying to use. It would take… an immense amount of more practice for you to use the spells to the same degree as any other Unicorn,” the figure explains. “And you can call me… actually, better not stick to names. But I am… anyway. I should take my leave now.” The figure turns around and takes a few steps to the door.
“Wait!” I call out, my hoof reaching after them.
“Yes?” they say, turning back to me. “Are you wanting to know what type of spells you can use? Or are you just in need of someone to talk to while you are unable to sleep?”
“Um… just somepony to talk to; and if you can, I’d like to know more about the types of magic that I can use.”
They seem to think for a little while, before they finally make a decision, giving a sigh. “Alright. I can spare a few minutes or two. What is it you would like to talk about?”
“You don’t look like you can use magic, so why is it you know things about it?”
“You’re right. I can’t use magic, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how it works. And there is no reason why you shouldn't know what you can and can’t do with your magic.”
“What is it I can do?”
The figure moves closer to me, a spark of crystalline gleam glinting off of their shaded eyes. They run their massive and unusually soft hoof over my head with a ruffle of my hair. “I can merely tell that levitation is not something you are good at. Now, as far as what you are good at… well, that will take practice.”
I hear an owl’s hoot, or perhaps what I imagine is an owl’s hoot. “Sorry, I’ve got to go now.” The figure turns around in the tiniest flash of smoke and disappears from my view.
I stare at the spot for a minute or two, before finally giving up and trudging back to my bed to sleep. I just close my eyes when I hear the door creak softly open. I hear muffled gruff voices. Soon, I can make out two distinct voices. “This room is all clear,” one says.
“Shh, don’t wake the Princesses’ guest. We’re supposed to be looking for an intruder. Let’s go,” the other whispers in a badly concealed tone. I hear their quiet hooffalls tiptoe down the stairs, out of range.
Slowly, I can feel my body growing heavy, and my mind growing lighter. My limbs, so easy to move, now feel like lead weights. My eyelids, once so quick and reactive, now feel as if they are sewn shut. And my—
~ ~ ~
I’m surrounded. Ponies crowd around me. All of them look angry and scared. What have I done to them? They are smaller than me. Even the biggest of them is but a dwarf next to me. Something smacks into my back, and I quickly turn around to see that a rock has just struck me. Pain radiates from the epicenter of the strike.
I bend my knees, leaning closer to the ground. All the ponies in my sight back away, seemingly afraid to know what I am going to do. My hooves dig into the dirt below me, and I shove off, breaking into a sprint. Right before I run into the front most pony, I leap and I easily manage to clear them as though I’m jumping a hurdle. I continue my gallop after landing on the ground.
I make it past other ponies who all stare at me in terror as I pass. The streets flash by in the blink of an eye. I’m fast, very fast. I seem to be able to outrun any of the ponies that chase me. I see some woods not far from here and head for them.
If I can make it to the woods, then the ponies will leave me alone. I pass flora as I enter the woods. The sound of hoofsteps tells me they are still in pursuit, but they aren't gaining on me. And it sounds as if many of them have decided to stop following me as soon as I entered the woods.
I find a little cave and duck into it. The ponies chasing me seem to not notice it and run past.
“You seem to be lost. I can help you with finding a purpose.”
I spin around to see some sort of insectoid-like creature. It looks exactly like a pony but covered in a black chitin with holes in the legs. Her (looks like a her) eyes are a shade of teal.
“What are you?” I cower away from it. She could be dangerous. She smiles a warm smile.
“Please… relax. If you would like to get away from those who wish to harm you… then come with me.” She stretches her hoof out towards me. My eyes flicker up and down, scanning her. Hesitantly, I reach out to accept her hoof.
~ ~ ~
The sun shines peek through my closed eyelids. I use a hoof to cover them from the wicked, vile rays. I stir, giving a groan, and swing my hind legs over the edge of the bed. My hooves touch the warm floor. A faint aroma of pancakes permeates the air. My eyes slowly open and the comfort of the room greets my vision. There is a creak and I turn to the door just in time to see it open up at an even pace.
“It’s almost noon. If you wish to leave for the train station, then you better hurry. Ah've also decided to pack you some food—pancakes—to ensure you can get there on time.” Inverse sets down a carryout box at the doorway and places the ribbon on top of it.
“Thank you, Inverse,” I say, now standing fully beside the bed.
She swings her hoof in a right hook, a cheeky grin on her face. “Go get them!” A serious expression then covers her face. “But most importantly. Come back. Tirek is a tricky sort and will have something planned,” she says.
I trot over to the box and pick up the ribbon, tucking it into my mane, behind my ear. I lift the box onto my back letting it balance there. I give her a reluctant smile. “I’m off,” I manage quietly. Before she can say anything, I push my way past her out the door.
I head down the hall to the stairs. I descend down the circular staircase (only dropping the box once and quickly catching it with my poor magic abilities). At the base of the stairs, I attempt to find my way to the castle’s exit. I make a wrong turn somewhere and end up in the library. Sheepishly, I ask a guard for directions and happily make my way back to where I need to go and out the front door.
I find myself heading back to the train station… alone. How it should have been back in Ponyville if I hadn't run into Sunny Dance. In the distance, the train pulls into the station, and ponies of all shapes and sizes load onto the train.
I see Sunny Dance enter the train near the back. “Guess I’ll head to the front then.” I mumble to myself as I trot to the train’s front. As I draw near the train, a few spears cross in front of me, blocking my entrance.
“Ribbon please ma’am,” a guard orders. I pull out the ribbon from my mane. They uncross the spears and I move past. I head to the front-most door and stumble on. I find that every seat is empty in the front car.
I choose a seat next to a window and open up the box. Pancakes, a fork, and a letter. I pick up the fork and take a bite of pancakes. Looking out the window, I can see that the station is empty of ponies and I assume everypony is onboard. I sigh and turn back to my pancakes, quickly becoming absorbed in eating them.
One bite after the next, I slowly chew my way through them. I take the last bite just as the car jerks forward and the train whistle blows. I pick up the letter. From the sides of my vision, the scenery begins changing at a gradual pace outside the window of the car.
I carefully unwrap the letter and unroll it. I let my eyes study the carefully written words.
To Night Zone,
While we didn't get to know each other very well, I have come to enjoy training you. And I wish that you will have safe travels. I also wish that you will return so that we may train in magic once again.
With the best, Inverse.
P.S. Please come back, my friend!
“She… thought we were friends,” I set the letter down beside me. “But we hardly talked. Five hours isn't enough time for friendship.” I rest my head on the window, gazing beyond it. “Besides she doesn't even know me.”
Trees turn to caves, caves turn into plains, and plains should turn to snow. I close my eyes and just feel the motion of the train: smooth and calm—
--- --- ---
I am shaken awake by a big pony. “Time to get a move on,” he says in a baritone voice. I stand up from the seat and follow him outside. The snow greets my bare hooves harshly. I ignore it, looking to a stage in front of the crowd, a few ponies talking amongst themselves on top of it.
One eventually steps forward to the podium, clearing her throat. I can see commander Soot Bin behind her. “I’d like to start off by thanking each of you. While you may know, we Wonderbolts are the front line of defense to attacks, the adversary is far too dangerous to let any single unit fight them.”
She slowly looks over the mass gathering closer to her. “That is where you come in… your job is to combat Sombra’s forces, as we deal with Sombra and Tirek. Your job is far from easy, I know. And I won’t lie, some of you won’t make it, but as long as you fight together, we will win.”
Everypony stares at her in a silence. “What happens if we don’t win?” a pony from near the front yells. It is safe to say everypony is thinking it, but they were the first one to ask it.
“Then Equestria may very well fall,” she answers honestly. She points to over the hill behind the stage. “Over that hill, a dark army is marching their way closer and closer to our homes, our families, our friends, our sanctum... our Equestria. We will not let them reach it.”
She flaps her wings and takes to the air. “Fight them with me!” she screams. The Pegasi follow her to the sky as she flies to the other side of the hill. Slowly, many of the others run to the top of the hill disappearing to the other side as well.
I hesitantly take a step. Why is my heart racing? I close my eyes, as I take another step. Sweat already covering my forehead I open my eyes. My head moves towards the sky, as I look to the clouds. “Is this where everything ends?” I whisper.
The roar of hoofsteps snaps me back to reality, and I see a horde of black, masked ponies running down the hill at me. I whirl around and gallop away, not to the train but around the train. They follow closely behind, gaining on me.
What was it Sunny said about magical energy beams? But that mysterious figure said that it wasn't true… “I’m so confused!” I yell. How can I escape them, or rather… how can I beat them? I quickly scan the area. “There!”
Some of the snow is different from the rest in terms of color, which means it isn't snow but ice. And like all ice, it has a certain thickness. As long as I can make it over, then they will try to cross and the ice will break. They will fall in, and I will be safe once again.
I turn hard left and gallop as fast as I can towards the ice. As soon as my hooves make contact I can tell that I was right about it being ice. But it is larger than I thought… much larger in fact. I half-slide, half-gallop my way as far as I can.
I turn back in time to see the ponies fall through the ice. More ponies jump over the gap and continue to give chase, this group stretching further out to not break the ice. I hit snow once again just as a beam of light smashes into the ice and fractures it into pieces, causing the ponies on it to fall into the endless-looking chasm it created.
My vision follows the beam to its source. A large, red and black monster-like creature shoots another long beam into the sky, trying to hit small fly like creatures. It swats a few from the air, only to pick them up and eat some sort of light from them.
“Pony,” a rumbling, gravelly voice says. I turn to the source to see a towering, dark Unicorn with a curved red horn. Black armor tightly fits around his muscular body, and a crimson cape whips around behind him. A helmet rests on his head, framing his face. A strangely-colored energy crackles around his horn. “You will not survive,” he continues, tipping his head down slightly and releasing a dark beam of magic.
I stumble backwards. Protection, I need protection! I throw my forehooves up in front of me and I hear the beam collide with something. “No pain?” I mutter in disbelief. I move my hooves to see that the beam is colliding and dispersing on some sort of wall of transparent amber red.
I look around but don’t see any other ponies. “I’m doing this?” Without moving my head, I look upwards and see my magical field wrapping around my horn. By the time my eyes return to the wall of magic, I can see cracks starting to form in it. No…
Panicking, I fling myself to the side just as the ward gives way and shatters into thousands of pieces. The beam continues along its path, slamming into the train, which erupts into flames. I turn to the Unicorn, who is laughing maliciously… until he spots that I survived his attack. He cocks his head to the side, regarding me with an odd expression. Then he speaks. “Very good, child. Join me.”
“A leader,” I mumble quietly. “You must be Sombra. Why offer me a chance on your side?”
He chuckles, his voice vibrating with an almost demonic undertone. “Yes. I am King Sombra,” he waves his cape. “Join me, or be vanquished.”
I see it for only a second, but I can tell what is about to happen. “I’m sorry to say, but it is you who will be vanquished.” I reach my hooves up just as a Pegasus swoops down and takes me into the air. Sombra fires another beam, but the Pegasus is able to dodge it.
Something flashes in front of us and grabs hold of us. Another flash, blinding me, immediately happens. When I can see again, I see that I am right near the towering creature. It has to be a demon. I read that they are red beings who bring destruction all around.
Sombra stomps a hoof on my gut, and I choke for air, pain burning in my lungs and stomach. “‘Tis a shame you do not join me, but now you will be vanquished instead.” He begins to point his horn to me, but another beam smashes into him.
A hoof helps me to mine, before it loads me onto the back of the pony it belongs to. I try to say something, but find that no words or sounds will leave my lips. All I feel is pain. All I smell is smoke. And all I see is chaos.
I look to the mane of the pony carrying me only to find that it is a familiar style and color. Only one pony has this style of a mane and that pony is Tilde. “Nice to see you still making it,” he grumbles over the sound of an explosion. He sets me down behind a boulder. “At this rate we are going to lose.”
“Yeah… it isn't… our fault…” I cough, still finding that the air does not like me. “Dream… some… pony says… we wouldn't… win…” I break into a coughing fit once more.
Off in the distance I see Sunny becoming surrounded, but she somehow weasels her way out from the circle surrounding her and breaks into a gallop for the boulder we are resting against. The masked ponies giving immediate chase. Tilde stands up, points his horn at them, and shoots his own beam of magic.
It looks smaller than the once he fired earlier, but it smacks into one, before moving over to the next. It doesn't quite hit all of them, but Sunny bucks one right in the visor and he collapses to the snowy ground.
She reaches the boulder, and flops against it catching her breath. “You don’t look so… good,” she says between breaths.
“You don’t either,” I reply, my lungs grabbing air once again, stars leaving my vision, which I didn't know were there until they left. Another magical laser smashes into the train and a fork lands in the snow next to us.
I can see Sombra standing in the smoke of the flames, laughing in triumph. He sees us resting against the stone, lowers his horn, and fires off another large beam. Must. Protect them, I think. Shielding my eyes with my hooves. I hear the sound of the beam smashing into something once again and know it is the ward.
I start lower my hooves, but find that darkness is quickly filling my vision. A ringing fills my ears, and I don’t taste anything anymore. What is happening to—
