The Tavern
It is told, often mockingly, that students sitting in their favorite taverns, after one too many drinks, start discussing the greatest mysteries of our time. And, loosened as their tongues are, the conversation inevitably turns toward the strange and otherworldly.
Such was the case one late evening in October, when, on one of my regular visits after my shift had ended, I overheard the loud argument one table over. My attention, never too lax, easily caught the usual themes of academic fancy, mares, grades, the low wondering at the secrets of Alicornhood and, as usual, the rumors of Princess Celestia’s addiction to cake.
Only listening half-heartedly, my eyes spent their time sweeping the tavern, something relentlessly drilled into me by years of service. Over the wooden furniture they swept, stopping briefly to admire the delicate embellishment on the cast iron lanterns lighting the room, their exterior such a faithful reproduction that I could almost believe them to be originals, even though that would put their age at well over three centuries. And I smiled genially as the barkeeper, a brown earth pony stallion, caught my eye and waved at me before leaving the room.
Every moment, spent in the tactfully nostalgic interior of the tavern, renewed my good mood, from the low murmuring of its guests, to the smell of freshly prepared food and drink, all the way to the lowly crackling fire in its hearth, as it fought valiantly against the chill of the impending night. With every visit my love for it grew, and I had to utter a silent thanks to the Captain for introducing it to me.
It was only later, after my mug was mostly empty, that my full attention was drawn. When the low, monotonous, voice of a gray furred Unicorn, quiet until now and still sober, interrupted their latest theme and forced me to set down my mug, lest I spill its contents over myself.
“Ivory Quill” his voice rang out loudly” That is the only real mystery of our time.”
At this proclamation the table stilled as my fur stood on edge, my full attention now solely on the Unicorn, the mug forgotten.
“That’s just a story” A red Unicorn answered him, grimacing at his drink before chugging it.
“Yeah, my father said that was just a stunt to get more attention for her Book” The only Pegasus of the group added, averting his eyes when the first Unicorn looked at him.
Perhaps it was the drink, clouding my senses, or even the lingering guilt, raising at the chance to clear my conscience, but regardless of the cause I spoke up. The sudden appearance of my deep voice surprised them, and one green Unicorn nearly spilled his drink as he twitched.
“It’s no story, and it certainly was no marketing trick,” at that, the entire table tuned. The faces of the group ranging from surprised, to scared, all the way to the satisfied glimmer in the gray Unicorn’s eyes.
“And, how do you know that?” he asked, his eyes, rather bizarrely, reminding me of my grandfather, though I couldn’t exactly remember why.
Despite the urgent screaming of an inner voice, desperately trying to be heard trough the buzz of intoxication, I answered his question. My voice steady, even as I fought down an involuntary shudder at his eagerness.
“Because I was there...,” his lips twitched slightly at the pregnant pause in my speech “standing guard, while they fished her out of that Well.”
This sentence, and what it implied, shocked the table. All of them paled, all except for that first Unicorn, whose eyes... suddenly I remembered. My grandfather used to be prolific fisher and I recalled that he used to have that same look in his eyes, every time the line had started to twitch. The minuscule smile on his face, growing despite the news of Ivory’s death, made me concentrate intently on his eyes as he asked his next questions.
" So...” there was something strange in his tone” she just fell into a well, and drowned?” His voice, in spite of his emotionless tone, held, what sounded to me, like a faint inflection of mockery.
“Yes.” My answer, as I could clearly see in his eyes, didn’t satisfy him.
“But, I heard that she was hard at work writing her latest book?” It must have been my look at the mention the Book, that cursed Tome, that tipped him off.
“Say... if you were there, do you know if they found it? Ivory Quill is really one of the greatest researchers in Equestria.” His praise at least, sounded genuine” I would be relieved to learn that her masterpiece is just waiting to be released, even if it is incomplete.”
The way he answered was good, very persuading. He knew exactly what to say, if I hadn’t been a Guard he may have even convinced me. But, once again, It was his eyes that gave him away, intense and hungry, they seemed to hide something in their depths that I couldn’t name.
“I would find some new authors, kid. That Book isn’t coming out anytime soon. " As his eyebrows rose questioningly, I had to suppress a flush of disgust at the overly deliberate nature of their motion”In fact, I’d say that it’s never going to be released.”
“Oh... and why is that?”
“It’s destroyed, it drowned with her. Nothing left but pulp” The longer I looked at them, the more I started to hate his eyes. Bright and eager, filled with something that might have been anger or triumph, they seemed to see right through me, mocking what they found.
“Well” he shrugged, his attention returning to his glass,” that is too bad. I was really looking forward to reading it.”
His answer, surprising as it was, should have relieved me. Yet, his repellent smile had only grown in relation to the shocked expressions of the other students. Though, in the end, it was his knowing gaze, hungry for the very knowledge I had sworn to keep secret, that most concerned me. Somehow, this simple student seemed to be able to look right through my training. I didn’t buy for a single moment that he actually believed me.
And yet, despite the lie he had to have seen in my eyes, the conversation died off. The atmosphere of earlier completely gone. Where once the students had reveled and drunk, now they only stared morosely at their cups and after a few more minutes of dead silence the first one left, despondently paying his tab on his way out.
A few tension-filled moments later, the rest of them had likewise left the tavern. The dull squeak of the closing door, echoing loudly through the quiet room, told me that I was now alone with the gray Unicorn. A furtive glance showed that he appeared to be utterly consumed with his glass, seemingly content to ignore me. However, as soon as my eyes turned away, I could feel his leering gaze burning into the back of my head.
A feeling as uncountable as it was aggravating, till finally I had enough. And following the additional encouragement of a deep chug I turned in the direction of his table, ready to tell him off.
Only to realize that the tavern was completely abandoned. A quick look around, even though it felt somewhat panicked, confirmed that I was utterly alone. His glass, still filled to the brim with whatever he had ordered some hours ago, leaned imperceptibly as it balanced upon a bed of golden coins, the fluid swaying slightly. The very idea, as far-fetched as it was, that a student could manage sneak out from beneath the direct scrutiny of a Royal Guard drove goosebumps over my entire body, even as I vainly tried to excuse it with having looked to deeply into my drink.
And with a last, dismayed, glance down at my mug I snorted, throwing a few bits, likely far too many, on the table as I decided to go home early. That whole discussion had tired me out more than i had thought possible. I was eager to get into bed and sleep of my inebriation.
While walking over to the door I spared a last glance at the seat of the gray Unicorn, yet I found nothing out of the ordinary. So, reaching the door I shook my head, deciding to leave this whole evening behind me. The squeak, shrill and unbelievably loud in the silent air of the tavern, was as sudden as it was shocking. And as I looked through it again, I shuddered at the sheer improbability that it could have opened without my notice. Only to, once again, find nothing.
Hesitating for a last moment on the threshold, I looked out at the dark Canterlot street, catching myself watching its corners. The relentless drumming of my heartbeat telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I was searching for a gray face, hiding somewhere in the darkness. With a bite on my own tongue, and a determined shake of my head, I admonished myself for being so easily frightened.
My breath plumed outward as soon as I stepped into the freezing air of Canterlot, and for the first time in hours my mind turned from the student. As I suddenly realized just how close we were to winter. And I frowned briefly at the prospect of guard duty in winter
Yet, despite all of my earlier encouragement i still felt on edge. And as the pale stars leered down on the nighted street, the air, tense and frigid, seemed to whisper darkly of some unknown menace. And before I had even realized it, I was speeding up.
It must have been the buzz of my drink, it simply must, for the town seemed utterly abandoned. Not a single window was lighted, throwing me headlong into what almost felt like a tunnel, lit only sparsely by the dim stars glaring down at me. My heart began to beat wildly as I rushed through the streets, the freezing air burned painfully with every breath I took, yet I didn’t even entertain the thought of slowing down. Something out here, carried along with the breeze, disturbed me greatly.
When a loud crash echoed from an ally to my right, I had to physically fight down the unbelievably strong urge to simply run, before reason reasserted itself, and with it my sense of duty.
Steeling my nerves I stopped, slowly turning to the right, before I forced myself forward. Thinking all the way to the dark gaping entrance of the alleyway that I was a Guard, selected by the Princess, trained by, unarguably, the greatest Captain of the last century, I was more than prepared for anything that Canterlot could throw at me.
Reassured, I entered the alley and looked around, finding nothing out of order except for a single trashcan, having apparently been knocked over by an actual cat. Uttering a sigh I could felt my muscles relax. My posture, not that I would ever admit it, showed deep, almost visceral, relief as I stood at the mouth of the alleyway, still trembling imperceptibly from time to time.
Shaking my head in a mixture of relief and embarrassment -- thinking of how ridiculous I must seem, first scared by a simple student, then afraid of the empty streets and now almost sent running by some street-cat. -- I went to do my duty, the sensation of pure relief shooting through my body, made me feel somewhat lightheaded as I sauntered into the alley, almost as if I tried to contrast the earlier horror with something completely mundane.
The alley lit up in the faint yellow hue of my magic, but my respite lasted only until I actually tried to right the trashcan, finding it far heavier than it looked. Its additional weight was so unexpected, that it almost knocked me over. And I could feel a headache begin to form as the spell failed at the insufficient charge of magical energy. With a grimace I touched my horn, frowning in annoyance that my spell had failed.
Choosing to forgo any further use of magic, as it was never a good idea to cast while excessively drunk, something that I blamed for my earlier failure. And so I resolved to right it with my hooves alone. Perhaps I would even report the owner afterwards. Whatever they threw away seemed far too heavy for the regular trashcan.
My next actions, as desperate as they must have appeared to an outsider, could almost be seen as repudiation -- both at the horrible tension filling the air, still present despite my attempts to deny it, and at the shudders wrecking my body -- as I ground my teeth in determination, before stepping forward.
With grinding teeth I gripped the trashcan, heaved with all my might, looked down, and froze.
I had to stifle a terrified scream at the face staring back at me. And suddenly I was no longer in an Alley, instead I stood in the freezing courtyard of the Castle’s University, gazing down into the mouth of a Well, looking on in silent horror as the pale, water-logged, face of Ivory floated to the surface. The speed at which her body surfaced caused the faint, almost impossible, suspicion that she had just been released, and my body trembled as I speculated darkly about just what exactly had kept her submerged, before the terror of my current situation, combined with the very real danger of an impending attack, forced my mind back into the present.
The features staring up at me were screwed into a look of such horror, that it took me a moment to recognize it as the face of the Unicorn, stiff, bloodless and ice-cold. It must have been there for a few hours at least. And as I frantically couched into a defensive position, I felt a last burst of nausea at the thought of how a body would have to bend, just to fit into the cramped inside of the trashcan.
Thunk!
The dull sound at my back ripped me out of my thoughts, whilst a burst of fear and adrenalin flushed the last, minuscule, remnants of intoxication from my veins.
With the well-practiced routine of years, my horn lit up as I turned, just as a bolt of foul, bruise coloured, magic slammed into my chest, effortlessly melting through my hurried shield. Painfully throwing me at the cold, hard, ground, my mouth gaping for air as an impossible figure slowly stepped towards me.
“So, my dear Guard” a voice rang out, hollow and strangely muted, its earlier monotony broken with what i now realized, to have always been a tone of mocking triumph
"Let us talk some more about Ivory's work" I couldn't understand his words, the world seemed frozen, I could do nothing more than stare up. Gaping at the face of a gray unicorn, who...
Changeling!
The thing seemed deeply amused at my silent accusation " I know that they did not destroy it"
It was close now, far too close. I could see the mockery in its gaze. I could see my death, shining out of eyes holding not a single shred of mercy, eyes that should never grace the face of a Pony.
“Where did they store it?”
When I didn’t answer -- still captivated by the leering glow of those eyes closing down on me -- the face moved, melted.
Showing ...
Oh Celestia...
NO!