"...thus was horror of the blackest depths and madness of the highest order born deep within the bowels of that old manor... horror and madness enough to send me screaming back into the putrid swamplands with what little remained of my own sanity..."
A strange book written in a script not linked to any known language is given to Moon Dancer by a mysterious stallion with dark spectacles and a charming smile. Wary of what lay within yet curious nonetheless, Moon Dancer enlists the aid of her old friend Twilight Sparkle in deciphering the script and unlocking the truth behind the book's origins.
What follows is a detailed account of the endeavor and its tragic and terrifying conclusion, penned by the broken mare who survived to tell the tale.
My name is Twilight Sparkle, and while normally not one to boast, I would like to point out that I myself am quite the learned mare. I've dedicated the majority of my relatively young life to the pursuit of knowledge in all its forms, or have tried at the very least.
Over the course of many years, I've become adept in both the magical arts as well as several existing sciences. I have a particularly strong passion for the written word and have amassed a veritable mountain of tomes, textbooks, and general works of fiction and non-fiction—all of which I've read through at least once.
In a strange and surprising twist of fate, I became a Princess and in recent years, have even opened my very own institution of education, of which I was—before the incident—the headmare. There are countless other accomplishments I could list here, but they are not the focus of the story I wish to tell. I merely mention all of this in an attempt to impress upon you the fact that I was not always the madmare many think me now.
No, the story I wish to tell is that of a friend I once held very dear. I've gained many friends in the years since I left my hometown of Canterlot on the day before that fateful celebration, but this tale is of a friend whom I've known for much longer; a friend I'd known since foalhood.
This is the story of Moon Dancer and how she, in a fit of unprecedented madness, sought to drag forth a nameless horror from nightmarish abysses yet unknown to ponykind. Consider this a recollection of sorts from somepony who was there to witness the gruesome tragedy unfold from beginning to end.
Be warned though, dear reader, for it's not with the intent to entice you to seek out the truth that I write this, but rather to steer you clear of dark and terrible secrets which should never be known to anypony for any reason. There are things which do not belong in this world—monstrous unspeakable things that would rend a sane pony's mind asunder from a mere glance.
I myself sit here alone, writing this at a small desk in one of the many soulless sterile white rooms within a psychiatric hospital somewhere in Manehattan. I still suffer terrifying visions of that day, the resulting fear of which has caused me to lash out many times.
These violent episodes have necessitated the heavy binding of my magic, and though it's highly inconvenient, I don't begrudge the hospital staff in the slightest. My friends and family have hope that I'll recover with time, but I know full well that despite moments of mental clarity that allow me to function enough to do things such as document my disturbing experience like this, I will never be the same.
Modern medicine is useless and memory spells do little to help. They can't fully erase a pony's thoughts, only suppress them within the deepest recesses of the mind. These memories—my memories cannot be completely suppressed, no matter how potent the spell or how strong the dosage of drugs. For reasons I can't fathom, the haunting visions I suffer daily don't follow me into sleep.
I fall into slumber only to wake what feels like mere moments later feeling wholly unrested and oddly out of sorts in a way I can't properly convey. The strange and perturbing sensations I feel and the unintelligible whispers I hear upon waking are bad enough, but the powerful migraines that inevitably come soon after are practically unbearable.
They last only a moment or two before fading away, but the pain makes it seem like an eternity. I don't know exactly what it is that sleeps beneath the surface of my waking mind, but I would sooner suffer a thousand sleepless nights, terrifying visions, and excruciating migraines than to catch even a glimpse of it, whatever it may be.
Up until now I've refused to give any kind of detailed explanation of the thing I saw in the basement of that wretched old manor beyond the Hayseed Swamplands. Even in the broken, fear addled state in which I was found, I didn't speak a word, at least no words that could be called proper modern Ponish.
It's now for the sake of my unfortunate friend Moon Dancer, who never made it out of that nightmare, that I've decided to write this story. It's for her sake, and for the sake of those who would trot the same dark and twisted path she did in her pursuit of truths which were, and are, best kept hidden from the world.
Upon completion of this work, I will request it to be sent to Princess Celestia to do with as she sees fit, though perhaps it might be best if these words never see the light of day. Regardless of the correct course of action involving this account, I beg those unfortunate enough to lay eyes upon this manuscript to keep well clear of the old manor that lies beyond the Hayseed Swamplands.
To curb one's curiosity of the unknown and unknowable is a lesson Moon Dancer and I learned far too late, but if you take nothing else from the following tale, take this lesson to heart and don't make the same dreadful mistakes we did.
Moon Dancer was a mare much like myself in that she was also a prodigious scholar of the magical arts and sciences. She didn't have the raw thaumic power that I possess, but both her intellect and scholarly curiosity were certainly a match for my own. We were both polymaths, but I would go so far as to say her drive to learn—her need to know was even greater than mine, and in a sense I respected her for that.
We did have our differences when it came to our studies. I'd always been one to follow every detail to the letter, never straying too far from the proper procedure or the guaranteed and proven method. Moon Dancer was more flexible in what she was willing to do to get the results she wanted. I would almost say she was daring in her approach, and wasn't afraid to delve into topics which even I shied away from in order to succeed.
Looking back on it, I suppose the signs were all there from the beginning that events would turn out the way they did. Moon Dancer was never a pony to let things go easily, and that was doubly true for things that piqued her interest as a scholar. It had been that way since we were both foals and I was much the same in that regard.
When I received a letter from Moon Dancer one balmy summer morning regarding a strange and archaic looking tome she'd received from an even stranger individual, I was of course, greatly intrigued. Interested as I was however, I couldn't shake a small sense of unease at the mention of this mysterious individual.
It was with a bit of relief on my part that Moon Dancer had requested to meet with me to discuss the book. In her letter she claimed the tome was like nothing she'd ever seen, and the script was in a language she'd never heard of. I could practically feel both the eagerness, puzzlement, and excitement she seemed to exude in equal measure through her written words.
I'd seen and heard little from Moon Dancer in recent years, busy as I was with my own life, and was more than happy to agree to her request. That odd sense of unease hadn't completely gone away, but as I read on, I became wrapped in Moon Dancer's infectious excitement and soon pushed the unease to the back of my mind.
I wasted little time in getting my affairs in order for the rather impromptu trip to Canterlot. I'd already closed the School of Friendship for Summer break and there wasn't much else to do other than to inform Spike, Starlight and the rest of my friends in Ponyville that I'd be away on a brief sojourn to Canterlot to visit another friend for some research. They were, of course, understanding of the situation and asked few questions.
I found this a small comfort, as I was somewhat reluctant to tell them the nature of that research for reasons I couldn't properly put into words. Perhaps it had something to do with that unease that continued to pester me like a needy pet, but I couldn't say for certain.
In any case, I'd collected everything I felt I would need for the trip and a bit extra in case of an overnight stay. With luggage in tow I was on the Friendship Express and on my way to Mount Canterhorn within the hour the letter had arrived. I spent much of the journey musing upon what secrets the book may have held and what new discoveries Moon Dancer and I would uncover. As my thoughts idled on the subject, my excitement for the research that awaited me increased.
By the time I'd reached the station in Canterlot, I was as giddy as a school filly on my first day of magic kindergarten. My visits to Canterlot had become a bit rare lately and I'd made it a point to stop by my old abode and Canterlot Castle itself to meet my parents and the other Princesses respectively whenever I did get a chance to come to the capital. So eager was I to meet with Moon Dancer and pore over this mysterious tome that I had chosen to forgo my customary visits entirely.
I had all but forgotten the letter I'd sent to Celestia informing her of my intent to visit Canterlot and hadn't even told my parents, but these were things that hadn't crossed my mind as I made my way straight to Moon Dancer's slightly dilapidated home. I had scarcely knocked on the door when the mare in question answered with a quick greeting before pulling me in with all haste, dragging my belongings in after the two of us.
The interior of Moon Dancer's home was cluttered with all manner of books, much as I had seen before, though it was clear she'd put in some effort to make the place a bit more presentable since I'd last visited. Many more of the tomes were placed upon the shelves and desks rather than scattered about the floor, and there was a pleasant scent of juniper wafting through the air.
I hardly had time to situate myself and my belongings properly before I was hurried to the main room and bid to sit in an offered armchair. I obliged my friend and happily agreed to a small plate of green apple slices and some Chamomile tea, which she left to retrieve. It was hardly my preferred combination, but the gesture was appreciated all the same.
As Moon Dancer prepared our snacks, we each took the opportunity to tell each other of the various goings-on in our lives. We spoke of what we'd been up to and what had changed since we last met. I hadn't seen or talked to the mare in some time and, even if we were both anxious to begin our discussion, I found the idle chatter enjoyable. Still, I could tell Moon Dancer was getting impatient and it wasn't long before the whistle of a tea kettle resounded throughout the house.
A few moments later and Moon Dancer returned with a set of small plates and two steaming cups of tea floating before her. She set the ensemble down atop the low coffee table between myself and the empty armchair across from me before hurrying away once more to retrieve the item of interest. I frowned after the bespectacled mare, somewhat put off by how distracted she appeared.
We'd spoken of topics beyond the tome, and while Moon Dancer's tone had been pleasant enough, I couldn't help but notice the curtness of her words and the distant look in her eye. I partook of the tea, telling myself it was simply a display of the studious fervor the two of us were well known for. And yet, I felt that worry that had not gone away since I'd first read the letter—a worry that only grew more prominent as more time passed.
In the end I had finished my tea and, feeling something was off, I chose to seek Moon Dancer out, leaving the apple slices untouched on the table. I wove my way deeper into the abode, all the while calling out my friend's name and receiving no response in turn. The house was fairly small, and it took little time to find Moon Dancer's whereabouts. Upon entering a small hallway, I could see the beginning of a set of wooden steps leading down to what I assumed may have been some basement.
As I listened, I could faintly hear Moon Dancer's voice from below. Her words were unintelligible from where I stood, but there was a feverish, frustrated tone to her incomprehensible mutterings that was clear as day even from a distance. I also noted the occasional, unmistakable sound of pages being flipped in a rapid manner.
Nervous, I moved closer to the steps and called out once more. It seemed I'd finally caught her attention, as the frantic mumbling and page turning ceased suddenly. The silence lasted only a moment before the approaching sound of hooves met my ears. A scant moment later, Moon Dancer reappeared at the top of the steps, a decrepit looking tome held aloft in her pinkish grey magic and her dark purple eyes shining with an enthusiasm far beyond what I'd seen when I first arrived.
Before I could even think of asking the many questions on my lips, the mare beckoned me to followed her down the wooden stairs to the basement. She hardly waited for a response before turning heel and retreating back down the steps herself. With no small amount of reluctance I followed after, worried for my friend but curious nonetheless of what she'd discovered and what I'd find down below.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, my questions only continued to pile atop one another. I had yet to lay eyes upon Moon Dancer's basement, and was surprised to see she kept it well maintained—even more so than the rest of her house. It wasn't a large basement by any stretch of the imagination, but the layout made it clear that this was where my friend did much of her research. As above, many of the walls were covered almost entirely by shelves of books. Plenty of writing utensils and various scientific tools were stocked and stacked neatly within, above and below a few shelves of their own.
Amidst it all were three different desks of varying sizes place at different points in the dimly lit room, one to my far left, one to the right, and the largest of them all resting against the back wall opposite the staircase. Though much of the room was tidier than I had expected, each desk was littered with what I could only describe as research material. Books either lay open partially read or closed and stacked atop one another.
Used, blank, and unrolled parchment lay scattered haphazardly about the tabletop and I spotted a few quills and inkwells as well, both spent and seemingly new. The last object I had taken note of was the large blank blackboard fastened to the wall above the desk placed at the back of the room. Though it was small and rather cramped, and admittedly paled in comparison to my own, Moon Dancer had certainly built herself a study to be proud of. I was impressed to be sure, but that did little to detract from my earlier worry and curiosity of what she'd been doing and of what would come next once again rose to the forefront of my mind.
I asked her why she'd chosen to bring me down here and of the small meal we were to share above, to which she responded that there'd be time to share a meal later and that it was best to discuss the tome and its contents now. She explained that she felt far more comfortable down here than above. Her tone had lost that fervent edge I'd heard earlier, but she was no less excited for what was to come. As she spoke, both my eyes and my thoughts were drawn to the tome itself.
We both stood before the the large desk below the blackboard where Moon Dancer had placed the mysterious tome. The book was bound in dark leather and had a distinctly old and worn appearance. Both its spine and the edges had been decorated with a silvery metal lining whose luster had long since rusted away. Age had rendered the title of the tome completely illegible and there was only a hint of the strange and complex sigils that marked the cover.
The apparent age and lack of proper care aside, the tome looked much the same as any other grimoire you'd find in a shop of magical artifacts and tomes, but that was only at a glance. There was something different, something alien about this particular tome, of that I was certain. It drew me in even as it pushed me away, and all this before I'd even had a chance to peruse its contents properly. In my immense curiosity and intrigue I'd forgotten any reservations and made to reach for the tome, to pull it open and lay its secret bare for me to see.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I expected Moon Dancer to stop me, but the mare had gone strangely silent and merely watched me, as if anticipating my reaction. I paid her behavior no mind however, as my attention had been fully drawn to the book, and with great care, I pulled back the cover and began to read.
What greeted my eyes were words I could make neither heads nor tails of, and the images! Just as Moon Dancer had described in her letter, the script was unlike anything I'd ever seen, but it was the many illustrations that seized and shook me. Images of strange and horrifying creatures I couldn't have possibly dreamed of in even my worst nightmares decorated many pages, and that was not nearly the end of it. There were many more illustrations, each seemingly more gruesome and morbid than the last.
I will write no more of what I glimpsed in that horrible book, as the memory of it is beginning to weigh heavily on my mind. What I will say is that, at the time, the dark contents of that tome had sparked something in me; what horrified me had also awakened a need to know, much like it had with Moon Dancer I imagined. Call it a morbid curiosity if you wish, but I nevertheless sought an explanation for what I saw in that book. I needed to understand what it all meant.
After a few minutes or so I was able to collect myself and, with a surprising amount of effort, closed the book before returning my focus to Moon Dancer. I had many questions, first and foremost of which was in regard to the strange stallion and the circumstances surrounding his offering of the tome. I chose to voice my inquiry and Moon Dancer was all too happy to respond.
It was no secret that Moon Dancer was an avid collector of rare books; indeed, it was thanks to her that I had been able to get my hooves on many of the more obscure tomes I possessed in my own library. Having evidently heard about the mare's impressive collection, a stallion calling himself Sound Mind had visited Moon Dancer one afternoon with tome in hoof and an offer to add said tome to that collection.
From what I gathered of Moon Dancer's explanation, he was an odd sort—the mare having described the tan coated earth pony stallion as somepony who'd 'stepped right out of an era long since past'. In her words, the stallion's short mane and thick tail had both been black in hue and kept immaculately maintained. His eyes were well hidden behind dark circular shades and he wore a fine and old fashioned black tailcoat.
All of this combined with his handsome features and amiable smile had left quite an impression on Moon Dancer, who'd regarded Sound Mind with both awe and suspicion. Apparently, when asked exactly who he was and why he'd come to Moon Dancer of all ponies, he'd simply replied that he was a traveling antiquarian who'd run afoul of some bad luck and could no longer care for the tome as he once did. He'd come to Canterlot seeking another collector to look after the book in his stead and upon asking some locals, he'd been directed to Moon Dancer's home.
I found the tale somewhat suspect, as did Moon Dancer at the time, but she nevertheless agreed to look after the tome. Neither of us had a mind to turn down an offered book, especially one in such a horrid state as that tome. I didn't fault Moon Dancer for her decision, as I was fairly sure I'd have done the same and taken the tome were I to be put in her horseshoes. Still, I was wary of the thing and told Moon Dancer as much. She assured me she'd already taken steps in making sure there were no ancient curses or arcane traps placed upon the book, and that it was as safe to read as any of the other books in her library.
I, unable to ignore the ominous aura emanating from the book and the unsettling images therein, remained uncertain, but let the matter rest for the moment. From that point onward we fell into that deep discussion we'd been so eagerly looking forward to. We spoke of the strange script, the monstrous illustrations and much more besides. We crafted several theories, pulling various texts on cultures and creatures from around the world from the shelves for reference. As minutes turned to hours, and Celestia's bright sun gave way to Luna's pale moon, I soon forgot or perhaps abandoned all of my misgiving in mine and Moon Dancer's pursuit of the truth behind this tome and its unfamiliar script.
Eventually I grew lucid enough to realize how late it had gotten and promptly sent a letter to Spike informing him and the rest of my friends that I'd most likely be away for some time, though I was unsure of exactly how long. We researched the tome well into the night, but made little progress in deciphering the odd language with our limited resources. It was clear that this endeavor would take far more effort than either Moon Dancer or I initially thought. It took some time, but in the end I convinced Moon Dancer to call it a night, promising that we'd begin a more thorough study the next day and possibly the next few days after.
It felt as though I'd hardly closed my eyes before a sharp spasm of terror tore me from my slumber. I awoke with a gasp, not knowing or remembering why I was afraid. For a moment I panicked, unsure of where I was or what I'd been doing before unconsciousness had taken me, but the feeling quickly passed into relief as I saw the light of the morning sun shining through the window across from me.
Recognition and realization of my current situation gradually set in and slowed my rapidly beating heart. Both Moon Dancer and I were too tired to have a proper bed prepared for me, so I took to curling up on a small couch in the main room like a common house cat. Not ideal in the slightest but it hardly would have been the first time I'd had to deal with sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.
Unfortunately I hadn't slept well and could feel the beginnings of a headache rising, though oddly enough it didn't evolve past a mere whisper. It was a dull throb of pain that was easily ignored and by the time I'd pulled myself off the couch, the pain had ceased entirely and was quickly forgotten in the face of my hunger. It appeared Moon Dancer had woken well before me, as I could smell the alluring scent of pancakes and orange juice freshly made somewhere nearby.
I found the meal sitting on the coffee table where I'd sat the day before, the plate of steaming flapjacks and glass of orange juice having replaced yesterday's snack. While breakfast was indeed a welcome sight, it failed to distract me from the fact that Moon Dancer was once again, nowhere to be found, at least not upstairs. Straining my ears in the relative silence of the house, I could just make out Moon Dancer's voice from somewhere below, once more unintelligible and muted by the floorboards that separated us.
With a sigh of resignation I ate alone and cleared the plate and glass from the table before making my way back down the steps to Moon Dancer's basement study. Admittedly the lack of leisurely communication was galling, but I could at least take solace in the fact that Moon Dancer was not so far gone in her own world that she couldn't think of her friend's needs.
As I suspected, the mare stood before the furthermost desk at the back of the study, her muzzle buried in the tome's yellowed pages. As she heard me coming down the wooden staircase, her incomprehensible ramblings ceased and she turned to usher me into the study with an impatient scowl. We shared a quick greeting before diving right back into our research, and as I'd promised, we took a far more methodical and detail approach to our work. A few hours passed and frustration began to mount, our hard work having gotten us nowhere in particular.
It was just after noon when we halted our studies, determined that our current resources were going to be wholly insufficient for the task. We'd hit a wall we couldn't overcome without outside help, and so I made a suggestion. I hadn't known it at the time, but that suggestion would be the key that opened the way to an even bigger mystery, and in doing so would also set us on the path to ruin and tragedy.
If we lacked the necessary materials to continue forward, then we would simply have to find and retrieve the right materials for the job, and I knew just the place to go for such materials. There was a little known curio shop on the outskirts of Manehattan that sold all manner of rare and exotic trinkets and literature. I'd personally tracked it down some time ago to ensure any cursed or dangerous objects had been properly confiscated, as this had been the very same shop that had sold Trixie the alicorn amulet.
I'd come to find out later that the actual owner, a kindly old stallion, had left the shop in his son's care while he'd been away seeking more wares for his shop at the time of the incident. After a brief discussion of what had transpired, I agreed to let the owner keep his more questionable wares so long as they were taken off the shelves. I myself had found several items of interest as I perused his shop and always made some time to stop by whenever I had the chance to visit Manehattan.
The old stallion had picked up more than few rare and archaic tomes in his distant travels over the years, and had even gained help from Daring Do herself on a few of his more dangerous expeditions. I thought if nothing else, it would be prudent to show the tome to a professional with plenty of experience in dealing with the obscure and arcane. If we couldn't gain new materials to help us in our research then perhaps we could gain some insight into how to proceed.
Moon Dancer was skeptical, having never heard of this shop before, but I assured her that the stallion ran a legitimate business, his wares were genuine, and that the shop itself had been dealing in unique odds and ends for several generations dating as far back as two hundred years or so. Admittedly I found that last fact somewhat strange given the shop was still as obscure as its wares, but the owner had the official documentation to prove the claim. As the night before, it took a good deal of convincing to get Moon Dancer to agree as she seemed oddly reluctant to show anypony else the tome.
Agree she did in the end though, and together we gathered our research materials and took the next train to Manehattan. The trip was a quiet one, as Moon Dancer not only refused to discuss the tome in public, but she wouldn't or perhaps couldn't tear her eyes from the book. I watched her methodically scan page after page, silent words passing through her lips and a strange gleam in her eye that I didn't like. After a few uncomfortable moments I turned my attention to the passing scenery beyond the window, but that didn't last long before my eyelids began to droop and I fell into slumber.
I call it slumber, but in reality it hardly felt like any kind of sleep at all. One moment I'd closed my eyes and the next we were pulling into the station in Manehattan. I'd jolted awake in a fright, exactly the same as I had that very morning, and like that morning I could feel the ghost of a headache that quickly slipped away before becoming too severe.
The odd phenomenon troubled me, but I was able to rationalize it as simple overexposure to the horrible images that covered many of the pages in that dreadful book. The sight of such things would give anypony nightmares and frankly I was thankful not to have remembered them. I asked Moon Dancer if she'd gone through the same experience I had, to which she replied that she hadn't had any trouble sleeping whatsoever. With that response I chose to put the matter behind me, and focus on leading Moon Dancer to the curio shop on the opposite side of town.
It took a good hour or so to reach our destination, and by the time we had, the afternoon had grown far later than I would've liked. Thankfully the shop was still open and the kind old stallion was there to give us a warm greeting. The stallion, an earth pony by the name of Kickshaw, had overseen the shop for many years, as had his father and grandfather before him and so on.
His family wasn't originally from Equestria, though they had kept much of their culture alive and well within the shop. According to the old stallion, his family had arrived from somewhere far to the east, and it showed in the shop's decor and design of Kickshaw's attire. The curio shop had been inherited from another individual who'd sold it off to Kickshaw's family many years ago for reasons unknown.
It was far from the most well known or robust shop in or near Manehattan, but the stallion took pride in both the shop itself and his own contributions to it, as well he should. Kickshaw had a knack for unearthing some of the most bizarre and exquisite oddities I'd ever laid eyes on, and I found it a shame that he hadn't gotten more business over the years.
I took the liberty of introducing Moon Dancer to the stallion and Moon Dancer, contrary to her earlier sentiments regarding the tome, wasted no time in questioning Kickshaw about its origins. Her demeanor caught both Kickshaw and myself by surprise and I took note of an odd sort of recognition in my friend's eyes as she looked at the shop owner. I asked if either of them had met before and Kickshaw, evidently as baffled as I was, admitted to never having seen Moon Dancer before in his life.
Moon Dancer for her part, ignored the inquiry entirely and pulled the mysterious tome from her saddlebags before placing it on the counter before the stallion. His reaction was immediate and worrying in the extreme. The moment his eyes fell upon the book he scrambled away, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief and his wrinkled old face pale beneath his sandy brown coat. I cast an anxious glance between him and the tome before turning to Moon Dancer, who now for some reason wore an expression of what may have been triumph.
I looked at Moon Dancer standing there in anticipation and the horrible sensation that I was missing something began to creep its way into my mind. It was almost as if Moon Dancer had known all along that Kickshaw would react in such a manner once he'd seen the book. I began to wonder if she'd gained some kind of unusual intuition or perception, and deeper within the recesses of my mind I wondered if that abnormal perception had something to do with the tome.
But no, that was ridiculous!
Moon Dancer had already deduced by magic that the book held no such power, and she was nothing if not thorough when it came to her spellwork. No, I thought, it must just be my imagination and inherent distrust of that morbid book. I once again tried rationalize my anxious thoughts away, but it was much more difficult in the face of Kickshaw's reaction. When the stallion next spoke, his voice was low and quavering, and his words did nothing to ease my mind.
"By Celestia's brilliant sun, it isn't possible!" he croaked, taking a few tentative steps back toward the counter where the book lay, "I'd heard stories and I've even seen illustrations of it, but to think the wretched thing actually exists..."
His eyes remained fixed to the book and slowly, reluctantly, almost as though afraid it would scald him at the merest touch, he reached forward and pulled the book closer for a better look. He fell silent for a long moment and simply stood there transfixed. I knew, and was certain Moon Dancer knew as well, that he had more to say, and so we waited for his response.
Eventually he pulled his shocked and horrified gaze from the tattered cover of the tome and looked between the two of us. With a hint of fear and urgency in his voice he asked us where we'd obtained the tome, and Moon Dancer obliged him an answer, telling him of the enigmatic stallion in the black tailcoat. Upon hearing his name, the blood drained from Kickshaw's face completely and he shook his head in absolute denial.
"Sound Mind, you say? Surely not," he replied before turning away and retreating further into the shop. He continued to mutter audibly even as he made his way into a dimly lit room locate behind a dark grey curtain, "impossible... must be a different stallion with the same name... has to be... no conceivable way he could... yes, just a coincidence is all..."
Amidst his mumbling and murmuring I could hear the sound of various objects being haphazardly sorted through. I called out to Kickshaw, curious as to what he was up to behind that dark curtain, but received no response. Moon Dancer and I didn't have to wait long before he returned carrying what looked like a small portrait in hoof. With another wary glance between us, he placed the portrait down face up beside the tome and asked with no small amount of trepidation in his voice if this was the stallion Moon Dancer had been referring to.
Within the frame sat a terribly old and faded black and white photograph of two stallions standing before a familiar structure. There were some minor differences in design here and there, but as a whole, there was no mistaking the unique form of the curio shop in the picture. In the foreground was a grim faced stallion with features and an outfit similar to Kickshaw's. I quickly deduced that this must be a photo of some great ancestor of his taken many years ago, but he was not the focus of my attention.
No, it was the stallion standing beside him that piqued my curiosity and caused me further unease. I could only guess at the stallion's coat and mane color given the obvious age of the picture, but with that black tailcoat, those dark glasses and that charming smile, I had no doubt that this was none other than the stallion that Moon Dancer had spoken of. This had to have been Sound Mind, yet something was wrong, and it only took Moon Dancer's confirmation to point out exactly what it was.
With an air of astonishment, Moon Dancer told Kickshaw that yes, this was indeed the stallion who'd visited her home and gifted her the book. What's more, his features had been every bit the same as in the photo, his face unchanged from back then. Not at all comfortable with the conclusions being made, I was quick to point out the possibility of an ancestor with an inherited name and uncanny likeness to the stallion Moon Dancer had met, but Moon Dancer seemed determined to believe otherwise.
"Your friend speaks sense, young lady. This can't possibly be the same stallion," Kickshaw said, giving Moon Dancer a nervous, placating smile, "you must understand, this photo was taken just over two hundred years ago in commemoration of the day Sound Mind had officially bequeathed the shop to my family. This must all be mere coincidence and nothing more."
But Moon Dancer remained unswayed by Kickshaw's words, and having heard the underlying nervousness in his voice, I began to wonder if Kickshaw himself truly believed in what he said. I only knew I didn't want to believe that the stallion Moon Dancer met and the stallion in the picture were one and the same. I didn't want to think about what that might've implied and so I opted to push the conversation toward the subject of the tome and our research into its illusive script.
Unfortunately, hearing what Moon Dancer and I intended to accomplish only incited a greater fear in Kickshaw, who strongly urged us to abandon the task. He looked us dead in the eye and warned against the venture with a grave frown and low voice.
"That book is evil, mark my words, ladies. You mean to decipher its secrets, but they will bring you nothing but madness and misery. I heard tell from my grandfather that the tome was once housed in this very shop long ago, before my family came to Equestria. I heard tell it was given—not sold, but given to a customer by Sound Mind back when he was still owner of this shop.
"Again this is only hearsay, but it was said that customer lost her mind only weeks after having obtained the book. She became obsessed with it, did terrible things because of it. It consumed her life and the lives of others around her, or so the story goes. I don't know where the fiction ends and the facts begin, but it was clear that cursed tome changed the mare in some way, and not for the better."
In the end, Kickshaw lacked the tools necessary to further our research into the tome's secrets, and even had he the items we needed, I felt he wouldn't have sold them to us regardless. I found I couldn't blame him for the sentiment, as I still had my own misgivings about the book and our studies thereof. Moon Dancer, unfazed by the stallion's portentous words, continued to doggedly pursue the issue, asking what more he knew of the tome and who had owned it all those years ago.
While the shop owner knew nothing else of the tome, he did—albeit reluctantly, give us a name to put to the aforementioned customer who'd gone mad. The previous owner of the book had been one Lucerne Hayseed, of the old Hayseed Family. Moon Dancer and I had never heard of the family, and Kickshaw knew no more beyond what he'd been told regarding Lucerne and the book. That and the fact that the Hayseed Family had been wealthy landowners at some point in the past.
With no more information to be gained from Kickshaw and a grateful farewell from me, Moon Dancer and I left the shop. As we stepped through the door, the stallion made one last attempt to dissuade us from our current course, to no avail. I felt, now more than ever, the need to discover what dark mysteries the tome held. If it was truly as dangerous as Kickshaw claimed it to be, then I needed to know exactly what Moon Dancer and I were getting ourselves into. That aside, I refused to let Moon Dancer handle the situation alone, not now that I knew something might be horribly amiss.
If I was being completely honest, Moon Dancer's odd behavior was beginning to unnerve me. It had only been a day, almost two days, and she had grown more distant—more withdrawn. Of course, that was when she wasn't skimming the pages of that book or muttering to herself. As we exited the shop and made our way back to Manehattan proper, I thought about the mare and how she'd evidently began to change in the presence of the tome, acting much like she had back before we'd reconciled in Canterlot only a few years ago.
She had by no means become an extrovert, but she'd changed drastically since that visit, becoming far more open and friendly, not just to me, but to everypony she met. To see Moon Dancer revert back to her old disposition so quickly—almost overnight really, was extremely disconcerting to say the least. Her curious and rapid change in demeanor seemed to suggest that there might be some truth to the tale, as much as I didn't want to believe it.
With these thoughts in mind, I asked the mare about our immediate goals. With the discovery of Lucerne's existence, we now had a possible lead that could bring us closer to the truth and perhaps, with any luck—whether good or bad I was unsure—we would find the key to the language barrier that barred our way. It was clear to Moon Dancer that the next step was to find out more about this mare, and so we pressed on with our search for answers.
What followed next was an in-depth investigation into the Hayseed Family, and as we were already in the city of Manehattan, we decided to start there. It was fairly late by the time we returned, and Luna was likely to raise the moon within the hour from the look of the sky. With night looming so close by, Moon Dancer and I rented a room in one of the many hotels that dotted the city. When I recommended we rest for the night, this time there was no complaint from Moon Dancer, for which I was incredibly grateful. I felt like I'd hardly slept a wink in the last day or so, and was eager to get to bed and be done with the day.
Hoping this night would be more restful than the last, I settled into bed and closed my eyes, only to open them once more at the sound of magic being cast somewhere near me. I turned to see Moon Dancer not resting in her own bed, but rather sitting at a nearby desk, her back facing me and her horn lit with a pinkish grey glow. I didn't have to guess to know that she was once again perusing the pages of that tome.
I couldn't understand what that mare could be gleaning from a book whose text she could no more read than I, yet she continued to pore over its contents as though it alone held all the answers. A wave of irritation passed over me and I told her to put the book away and get some rest, but as she turned to face me a sudden haze filled my mind and my vision blurred with the immediate, almost violent need to sleep. The last thing I saw before my consciousness faded was Moon Dancer's unreadable expression as she watched me, her eyes hidden behind the glare of the light coming from her horn.
When I next awoke I couldn't be sure of whether or not what had happened the night before was a dream or reality. What I knew for certain was that day had already broken and I felt just as exhausted as I did before I'd fallen asleep. The nameless fear and headache both came again, and this time the latter had grown slightly stronger before fading away. I had no time to ponder what this could mean before the door to the hotel room opened and Moon Dancer stepped in, her expression full of foalish excitement. The anomalous mare I'd seen yesterday had vanished and been replaced by this joyous creature who looked so eager to seize the day.
I could make neither heads nor tails of this radical change in attitude, but I suspected it had something to do with our upcoming venture to Manehattan City Hall. I thought back to last night's surreal incident one last time and chose to write it off as a dream born of my immense fatigue. That decided, I asked Moon Dancer where she'd been while I was asleep, and she informed me she'd gone to get directions to City Hall, though there was something in her face that made me believe there may have been more to her trip. I couldn't quite place what it was that had perturbed me, but I nevertheless made note of it.
Barring my slight suspicions regarding Moon Dancer, the morning began on a pleasant note. We both shared breakfast provided by the hotel and the mood was overall much better than it had been previously. There was even a bit of small talk between us and, satisfied that all was going well, I followed Moon Dancer out of the hotel and deeper into the heart of the city where City Hall lay.
Our intent was to access the city archives in search of any and all information on the Hayseed Family and Lucerne Hayseed specifically. Kickshaw had mentioned that her family had been fairly wealthy, and a family with wealth was likely to make some kind of hoofnote in history. Getting into the archives was simple enough with my status as a Princess, but that was were the simplicity ended. From there we spent the next few hours browsing the sizable font of information that was the Manehattan city archives.
It was a draining task to be sure, but progress was made, and soon enough we had amassed enough data to start making some connections. While the majority of the Hayseed Family wasn't originally from Manehattan, their family owned business had been based in the city and many of the records we procured focused heavily on said business. Most of our time was spent sorting through legal documents until we found the specific information we were looking for. It took time, but our efforts eventually bore fruit.
Contrary to what their family name may have implied, the Hayseeds were a well respected family of earth ponies who had owned a large, isolated plot of land between what was now commonly known as the Hayseed Swamplands and the Forbidden Jungle. How they came to inherit so much land in such a strange location was a detail Moon Dancer and I failed to uncover, but the land they owned had been home to rare breed of tree that couldn't be found anywhere else in the world.
The tree produced some of the highest quality lumber in Equestria, and the family had built their fortune off of selling the lumber as contractors for other wealthy ponies, most of whom came from the then relatively new city of Manehattan. Eventually they had garnered enough wealth to start a large business and gain a sort of landed estate, though all assets aside from the actual lumber and a singular manor—which had been built on the property—were kept within Manehattan.
Several years passed and much of the extended family dwindled down to only a dozen or so members. Those that remained moved from their isolated home and to the city of Manehattan either to oversee the family business or live their own lives free of it. The only ponies that remained in the manor by the time Lucerne Hayseed was born, were the employed servants and workers, Alfalfa Hayseed, Orchard Hayseed, and their only foal and heir to both the family manor and business, Lucerne Hayseed.
Unfortunately, aside from a bit of family history, Moon Dancer and I were unable to locate much on Lucerne's personal life. The only other strange piece of information I found was that the mare had disappeared under strange circumstances and that their family owned business fell to financial ruin and went bankrupt shortly thereafter. The family's private manor was left untouched and had long since been abandoned on the original Hayseed Family property for over two hundred years.
The rest of what we'd found consisted of company records and the personal expenses of some of the family who worked for the business. Moon Dancer meant to cast them aside, sure that they had nothing to do with our search, when I stumbled upon something interesting. It seemed that, during the last two years or so leading up to Lucerne's disappearance, she'd used an inordinately large amount of bits to fund some rather odd purchases, the consequences of which ultimately led to the downfall of the family business.
Some of these purchases included, but weren't limited to several trips in and out of Equestria on long and mysterious sojourns in other countries, various and highly expensive odds and ends—a few bought from the very curio store we'd visited just the other day, some minor construction fees, and most baffling of all, many rare and costly chemicals seemingly bought at random for some unknown purpose.
They certainly had nothing to do with lumber or the manufacturing thereof, that much was clear. The mare had also paid a certain unicorn mage-for-hire quite a hefty sum for some kind of service rendered. Neither Moon Dancer or I were able to find the name of that mage or his business information, which made me believe the mare may have hired the mage in confidence for a task she wanted nopony to know about.
Whatever the case may have been, the circumstances surrounding Lucerne's disappearance were suspicious to say the least and more than warranted further looking into. Moon Dancer suspected the disappearance was in some way tied to the tome, and while I shared those suspicions, I didn't share in my friend's enthusiasm. I found that the more I learned, the less I wanted to know. Still I persisted, more for Moon Dancer's sake than my own curiosity.
With the relevant information documented and another lead found in the form of an old unicorn mare by the name of Evening Star, we left the archives. The last of the Hayseed Family had died out roughly a half a decade before I was born, so there was no help to be gained there. Evening Star was the only pony we could find whose not so distant ancestor had worked closely with the enigma that was Lucerne Hayseed. The mare's great grandmother had worked as a maid in Hayseed Manor when Lucerne had been the head of the family, and was one of the last maids remaining in Lucerne's employ before she vanished.
It was our hope that Evening Star could shed some light on what her older relative had experienced back then. Moon Dancer had wanted to head straight for the abandoned manor, but I was able to persuade her to wait until we'd gained some more insight into the matter at hoof. The last thing I wanted for either of us was to go into that old manor blind and unprepared. Little did I know that nothing could have prepared me for what I saw in that wretched old relic of a house.
Like the curio shop, Evening Star's rather quaint home was located on the outskirts of Manehattan and it took some time for us to reach our destination. The sun had reached its zenith by the time we arrived and knocked at the mare's door, and I prayed the mare was in. My prayers were answer when the door creaked open after only a few knocks. The mare had rarely hosted any guests in her old age, and was understandably surprised at our sudden appearance.
Even if she hadn't known me personally, Evening Star at least knew of my status as a Princess, and that went a long way in smoothing over the introductions and explanations. It only took a few minutes of discussion before we were kindly invited in and offered lunch. It was a modest meal, but I was no less appreciative and graciously accepted, though Moon Dancer respectfully declined the offered meal. Over the course of the meal, we told Evening Star of what we'd discovered about the Hayseed Family and to our pleasant surprise, she was fairly knowledgeable of matters involving the goings-on within Hayseed Manor.
I pointed out as much, and Evening Star replied that her great grandmother had kept a diary of sorts during her life as a maid in the manor. The diary, along with several other keepsakes, had been passed down to Evening Star's grandmother, then to her mother and finally it had found its way into Evening Star's possession. The mare had spent a good deal of time in her youth reading through the diary and had memorized a good deal of its contents.
"My great gran wrote a good deal about her life in that old manor, but I'm afraid I haven't any kind of diary to show you, not anymore," the mare explained in response to Moon Dancer's request to see the diary, "lost it long ago during a delightful trip to Saddle Arabia. It was a darn shame to be sure, but even if I'd brought it back with me, I couldn't show it to you, not in good conscience.
"A lot of what my great gran wrote had little to do with the members of the Hayseed Family and a lot more to do with her own life at the manor—that, and the sweet words she'd never had the courage to say to the stallion she'd been smitten with at the time. I don't think you girls came here to talk about such things, and I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing anyhow.
"As for the Lady's strange behavior and disappearance, it was just as much a mystery to my great gran as it is to the two of you. Lady Lucerne had become terribly withdrawn in the final years before she vanished, but none of the help ever found out why. The only thing I know for sure was that the Lady's demeanor had become so horrendous and scatterbrained that many of the servants and workers quit outright, and those that stayed behind like my great gran were all fired only a week or so before the disappearance occurred."
That was all the mare knew, and though it was far less than we were hoping to hear, I thanked her for what little facts she could contribute. Apparently the disappointment had shown clear on our face, because the mare spoke again before Moon Dancer and I had the chance to rise from our seats to leave, this time with an apologetic smile and consolatory tone.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help, dears, but if you're looking to know more about Lady Lucerne, I may know of somepony that can help you. The two of you are already aware that the manor lies beyond the Hayseed Swamplands, yes? Well, if you don't mind a bit of travel and some camping out, you'll find a stallion living in an old cabin out there near the swamp's western edge.
"Wispy Willows is the stallion's name. He's a bit of a curmudgeon, but there's not a pony alive who knows more about the Hayseeds than he does. Was a good friend of mine back in the day, but we lost touch after he moved into his father's old cabin in the swamp. Don't know why he went, but he always used to talk about how his family and the Hayseeds were close back in the day and how he wanted to honor the Hayseeds by taking care of the swamp or some such nonsense.
"Don't know if I believe it myself, personally... that stallion was always a shifty one, Celestia bless him. Always looking to make a quick bit. You ask me, I think he just wanted to loot the manor and pawn off the goods, but I can't say for sure. That aside, I suppose It's not a terribly long journey to his place, but it goes a bit off the beaten path and a little ways into the swamplands so you'll have to hoof it most of the way."
After receiving directions to Wispy Willows' cabin, I thanked Evening Star for her time and we departed once more for the inner city. I prepared myself again to convince Moon Dancer to hold off our journey one more night so that we could get our affairs in order, but to my astonishment, she was the first to make the suggestion.
I looked her over carefully and it was only then that I noticed that the mare looked just as fatigued as I felt—more even. With the slight gauntness of her features and the heavy bags beneath her eyes, it was a wonder I hadn't seen it before. It was enough to make me question my own state and if I looked just as haggard. Needless to say I agreed without hesitation and together we returned to the hotel to pay for one more night.
I was happy to see that Moon Dancer seemed to be coming out of whatever mood she'd been in and felt it was an apt time to talk about her recent behavior and what it meant. Up until now I'd been content to let Moon Dancer hold onto the tome, mostly because I'd come to loathe even touching the thing, but I was starting to feel that it would be best to separate my bespectacled friend from her object of obsession. I'd felt that way for some time, but had been afraid of the response I would've received had I tried to take it while she was acting so strangely.
Now that she'd returned to her senses somewhat, I figured I could coax the mare into letting me care for the tome for now. That was what I'd intended, but as I would soon find out, I'd made a grave mistake in assuming Moon Dancer had any kind of sense left whatsoever. All seemed well once we had entered the room, but as I discarded my saddlebags and sat down on the bed to rest my legs, Moon Dancer spoke, her tone holding a curious casualness as she asked me a question I hadn't expected to hear.
"Have you seen them, Twilight? Those horrible things in your dreams? Is that why you've had so much trouble sleeping lately?"
It was a question I wasn't prepared to answer, and the way she spoke, her unsettling tone of absolute calm struck me speechless. For a brief moment I couldn't do anything but stare open mouthed at the mare standing across from me. She stared back, her eyes fixed on mine and her expression tense and expectant. She hardly gave me any time to respond before speaking again in that same unnervingly calm tone.
"Well, I've seen them, and I know they exist. I was scared at first—terrified, and I still am, but I think I'm beginning to understand, at least a little bit. Even if I can't read what's written, I think... no, I know it's because of the book. I can't read them, but I can hear them, Twilight. I can hear the words, telling me all kinds of things, trying to make me understand, but I couldn't, not in the beginning. I tried, and I kept trying and now I think I'm finally getting it."
As she spoke her expression began to change, her calm façade falling away to reveal a twisted look of revelation—her face alight with the kind of mad exaltation one would show at having discovered some great fundamental life-changing truth. Now afraid for my friend's sanity, I tried to ask her what she meant, what kind of horrible things she'd been seeing in her dreams. I tried to bring reason into the conversation, and for a moment I thought I'd succeeded.
The moment I told her I hadn't dreamed of any horrible things, and had no memory of any dreams at all, her face fell and the calm façade returned, though she now looked slightly disappointed. Unfortunately her calm façade was still only that, a façade. She spoke once again, but her words were no more sensible than before.
"So you haven't seen them then... that's a shame, but I also kind of envy you. You may not understand now, but there are things out there; horrors and wonders—things that exist that you can't possibly imagine, Twilight. I've seen them, and I know they're real, the tome proves it.
"You've seen it with your own eyes. You've seen what's in that book, but apparently you don't get it, not like I do. Not like Lucerne did. He gave her the book, and she understood. She knew there was more to our meager existence than what our limited senses could tell us. Magic is a wonder, but now I know that there are far more beautiful and terrible things that sit just beyond the bounds of our own reality."
Here she stopped and heaved a long and weary sigh, as if the weight of the entire world had fallen on her shoulders. Then she looked at me, and for as long as I continue to live I will never forget the expression she wore. It was a look of pity and sadness so profound that I was vividly reminded of an owner forced to put down their cherished pet.
"You may be a Princess, Twilight Sparkle... you may be the head of your very own school, you and the other Elements may hold the fate of Equestria in your hooves... but I'm the one that now holds the heaviest burden. Just like Lucerne Hayseed before me, I hold the burden of truth, and while that truth may be incomplete right now, I'll be the one to uncover the whole of it. For some reason you can't see it, but that's okay... I'll show it to you."
She smiled a horrible pitying smile and cold dread flooded my veins, but before I could act or speak a word in response, Moon Dancer's horn blazed to life and in an instant that same overpowering drowsiness fogged my mind completely. I could only form half a murmured plea to the smiling mare before I stumbled and fell away in a sleep no doubt fit for the dead.
I don't remember much of what happened next, only that I woke screaming. I don't know whether from sheer terror at the sight of something I couldn't remember, or the horrendous agony of a migraine that threatened to split my head in two. The pain abated quickly as before, but it took much longer for the fear to die down. For several moments I sat on the floor, wide eyed, sweaty and shaken, but unable to understand why.
It took another moment for the rational part of my mind to reassert itself, and once it had I realize I was alone. Moon Dancer was nowhere to be found and I was left on my own in a room that had become eerily silent. The light streaming through the window revealed that Celestia had brought forth a brand new day, but the bright morning sun did nothing to ease my panic. The fear and dread were only aggravated as I realized how long I'd been asleep. I searched the room and my saddlebags,deep down already knowing that I wouldn't find the tome.
A few minutes of searching and my fears were confirmed; Moon Dancer had disappeared, and had taken the tome with her. I'd seen the signs, but I'd chosen to ignore them until it was too late, and now my friend had become an obsessed madmare intent on showing me some kind of 'truth'. I hadn't the vaguest idea of what she was talking about, nor did I know what her plans were, but I knew her final destination was most likely the old abandoned manor just past the Hayseed Swamplands.
As I was packing away my belongings and preparing to follow after my deluded friend, somepony knocked at my door. The sound was like the deafening rapport of a cannon in the absolute silence that filled the room, and my heart nearly leapt into my throat at the sudden noise. Once I'd gotten my heartbeat under control I answered the door, and saw that it was a mare—somepony working as part of the hotel staff to be exact.
Evidently my earlier cry had scared a few of the other guests and somepony had reported the noise. I assured the mare that had been sent to check up on me that everything was fine, though I did ask if she or anypony else had seen the unicorn mare that had accompanied me. My heart sank at her negative response, but I thanked her all the same and made my way down to the lobby to inform the staff that Moon Dancer would not be returning and to check out of the hotel myself.
I paid the remaining expenses, including the fee to have the rest of mine and Moon Dancer's personal effects returned to our respective homes, and took flight southward towards Dodge City, the closet town to the Swamplands. Though I wasn't aware of it then, it wouldn't be long before I returned to the city, but the next time I came to Manehattan, it would be not as the Princess of Friendship, but as a bound and babbling madmare who'd seen far more than she could bear.
I was unsure of whether Moon Dancer had made the last train to Dodge City, or if she'd left Manehattan by some other means, but I took no chances in stopping to find out as I left the city. The only stop I made was a brief sojourn in Dodge City to rest my weary wings before taking off once more to the Swamplands. I could see no reason why it shouldn't be, but even if Moon Dancer's destination hadn't been the manor, I still felt there was something there, something I was meant to see, something even more important than Moon Dancer's madness.
I could feel it calling me, and wondered if maybe some deeper part of me had understood some of Moon Dancer insane ramblings. The though scared me deeply, but I was spurred on all the same, and within the next hour after my flight from Dodge City, I was in the Swamplands themselves. Like the Everfree and many other uninhabited areas in Equestria, there were no pegasi to manipulate the weather over the swamp, and thick clouds had cast themselves over the surroundings, throwing the swamplands into a sort of gloom to match my current mood.
Rather than simply fly over the fetid swampy forest, I took the time to make my way through it. If Moon Dancer's goal was to seek out the rest of her 'truth' then there was a fair chance she might have stopped to question Wispy Willows before heading to the manor.
Even if she chose to skip the cabin altogether, the stallion may have been able to help me in some way. I decided it was worth the risk and with my mind set, I traveled on hoof through the foul smelling marshes that made up the western side of the Swamplands. Thankfully it wasn't long before an old, but well maintained cabin came into view, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. That relief was short lived however, as when I moved nearer to the cabin, I could see that the front door had been left slightly ajar.
Worry bubbled back up to the surface, rising higher and higher until I felt sick with it. I'd hoped to reach the Swamplands before Moon Dancer arrived, but I feared I might've been too late. An open front door wasn't necessarily indicative of an invasion, but in this instance I was unconvinced that it could be anything else. Fearing for the safety of the resident within, I hurried to the door and pushed it further open before stepping inside. The interior of the cabin wasn't large and save for a small, active fireplace surrounded by a modest mantlepiece and a few minor furnishings here and there, the main room was relatively austere.
There only seemed to be one other room in the cabin, which I presumed to be the bedroom. A few framed pictures and knick-knacks sat atop the mantlepiece and I spotted some wall mounted portraits as I scanned the room, but what I'd really been looking for, was the old stallion that was said to live here. It took me only a few seconds to find the stallion in question, a low groan of pain drawing my eyes to his location almost immediately. I turned to an isolated corner of the room and in the dim light of the flickering fire I saw the crumpled, but slowly rousing form of a dark brown unicorn stallion.
Beside him lay a large and heavy looking candelabra, and looking at that and the old stallion struggling to his hooves and wincing in pain, it didn't take me long to deduce that the stallion had been attacked. I shuddered to think that Moon Dancer might've been the one to do such a thing. I wasted no time in helping the stallion the rest of the way up, but as I did so, he shoved me away, his expression still pained, but with a healthy amount of wariness in his cold blue eyes.
Without my support he stumbled back to the ground, but despite this, he refused my help. Looking at the large welt across his forehead just above his horn, I worried the stallion may have had a minor concussion, but as he glared at me, I could see his eyes were clear and when he spoke, his gravelly tone was strong and sharp as a knife.
"Who are ya? 'Nother intruder come ta beat an' rob me of mah things? You with the other one? Come ta finish what she started, eh? Might as well. If she's gone where I think she's gone with that blasted journal, we're all finished anyway. Dark an' terrible things that way... no earthly idea what she's getting herself into... blasted fool... madmare is what she is..."
His questions devolved into bitter mumbling before he groaned again in pain. I pleaded with the stallion to calm down and explained that I wasn't here to assault or rob anypony. After he'd relaxed a bit, he introduced himself as Wispy Willows, just the stallion I'd been looking for. I inquired about his connection to the Hayseed Family and he revealed that his family had indeed been close to the Hayseeds. The Willows had resided on the edge of the Swamplands, and had been living in the forest almost as long as the Hayseeds had lived on their own property, though relations had turned somewhat sour after the Hayseed Family had become wealthy and the Willows fell further and further into obscurity.
I realized that once I'd gotten past his gruff exterior, the stallion was all too eager to talk. I found this unsurprising, given how he'd been living alone in the swamplands for so long. In return, I told him who I was and of my intentions before asking about what had happened here and who was responsible. His answer didn't surprise me, and I wouldn't be lying if said I'd hoped for a different response than what I'd received.
"Crazy mare in glasses... just showed up out o' the blue as ah was preparin' ta fix mahself some breakfast. Seemed a nice enough sort at first... asked me a few questions 'bout the Hayseeds. Apparently ah made a mistake in mentionin' ah'd gotten ahold of Lucerne's old journal, because that barmy mare nabbed it the moment ah showed it to 'er. Had this look in 'er eye, didn't like it one bit so ah tried ta get it back from 'er, but she got the better o' me. Shouldn'ta shown it to 'er... nasty stuff in that journal ah tell ya... dark stuff... things ain't nopony should see..."
The old stallion visibly shivered in disgust and his face grew slightly pale at the thought of the journal. He fell silent for a long moment and winced in pain again before continuing his halting explanation.
"Went ta that old manor mahself many years back... heard there were all kinds o' valuables left jus' sittin' 'round collectin' dust. Pa always told me not ta go down ta that old manor... never told me why, but times had gotten awfully tough back then, and ah figured ah'd make a killin' if ah could get mah hooves on somethin' good... but 'tain't worth it. Ah inherited this here cabin when mah Pa passed, an' part o' the reason ah came back was because it was his last wish fer me ta watch over the place, but there ain't a night goes by that I don't think about what I heard in that manor.
"There's somethin' evil in that fancy old house, filly... ah swear ta Celestia, ah could hear somethin' big an' slimy crawlin' 'round 'neath the floor somewhere... some great beast... don't even wanna think 'bout what it mighta been... an' the stench! Ah've lived in this swamp a good long while, filly, an' ah ain't never smelled somethin' so rancid as what ah smelled in that manor.... couldn't even describe it to ya if ah wanted to..."
His rough countenance began to crack as he spoke, and where there was once a gruff and bitter old stallion, I now saw something in his face more akin to a frightened foal. His breathing grew slightly labored and there was a distant, horrified look in his eye as he spoke. He shook his head slowly, as if to denounce his own troubled thoughts, then returned his attention to me, though his expression never lost that hint of trepidation.
"Thought I was hearin' things... had to be... but then ah hear this sound... some kinda horrible guttural roar... like no creature ah ever heard before in mah life... darn near shook the whole manor ta pieces. That was it fer me... took the journal ah found inside an' fled... don't know why ah took it... somethin' told me to... felt like ah had to... wish ah hadn't, but ah did. Read it too... really wish I hadn't, but ah felt like ah had no choice... nasty things in that journal believe you me...
"That pony, Lucerne... she did somethin' horrible... that thing down below the manor? That was her work... brought it here from somewhere else and trapped it down in the basement somehow... don't know how she did it... couldn't make head or tails o' that part o' the journal... Celestia save us all, if that madmare releases that thing into the world we're finished... ain't nopony gonna be able ta do nothin'... shoulda chucked the Celestia forsaken thing in the swamp... shoulda burned it ta cinders... don't know why ah didn't... don't know why..."
His words trailed off into shaky half formed murmurs and fearful stutters. My heart went out to the trembling old stallion, and I was loathed to let him suffer such painful memories on his own, but time was running short. After hearing Wispy Willows' tale, I wanted to keep as far from that manor as equinely possible. I want to flee from those Swamplands and never look back, but I knew I couldn't.
If even half of what the old stallion had said was true, then it was imperative that I stop Moon Dancer from accomplishing whatever ghastly task she'd set out to do. I didn't even want to think about the possibility that her plans involved that unspeakable thing supposedly trapped beneath the manor. Still, if worse came to worst, I'd fought my fair share of monsters and villains. Often it was with the help of my friends, but I was a fairly powerful mage in my own right.
I told myself it was something I could handle if need be, that my experience would be enough to see me through whatever dire situation I might find myself in once I reached the manor. Like a fool I built my confidence to dangerous heights, and, after making sure Wispy Willows would be okay on his own, I set out once more toward the manor, the inevitable confrontation with my oldest friend, and the horror that lay beneath. For all my gallantry and puffed up confidence, and try as I might, I couldn't ignore the haunting memory of Moon Dancer's words. As I pressed on, those words constantly floated back to the surface of my mind, viciously trying to crush my convictions back down into unbridled terror of what was to come.
Magic is a wonder... but now I know that there are far more beautiful and terrible things that sit just beyond the bounds of our own reality...
Even as I soared over the trees I could still smell the stink of the swamps below me, but that stench paled in comparison to what I'd been subjected to once I'd moved past the swamp and reached the clearing where Hayseed Manor lay. Almost as if in defiance of the late afternoon sun, the sky above me grew ever darker with thick clouds that rumbled with distant thunder. Below me, I could see a heavy fog or mist rolling in from the swamp to surround the manor itself, making it slightly difficult to see from ground level.
It seemed I was going to be denied even the comfort of Celestia's warm sun in this venture, but I set that unpleasant thought aside. I had far more worrying matters to deal with than poor weather, and that became more evident as I laid my eyes upon that decrepit old dwelling for the first time. Though it wasn't the most opulent manor house I'd ever seen, Hayseed Manor still stood like a dark and malignant sentinel in the middle of the large clearing.
Even in its run down and antiquated state, it still held a domineering presence. The pale grey stonework that made up most of the building's exterior was worn and cracked in various places and so severely that the flaws could be seen even from a distance. I could see several chunks of dark grey tile missing from the multilayered combination roof.
To my surprise, many of the dormer and bay windows dotting the walls and roof remained intact if crusted with age. Several twisting vines had snaked their way across the surrounding walls and windows, the invasive plants poking in and out of the many cracks and holes about the structure.
I didn't allow my eyes to wander over the manor's exterior for too long, and attempting to swallow any residual fear, I stepped up to and gently pushed open the lavish oak door that made up the entrance. The door creaked horribly and the sound of it nearly made me cringe back, but it gave no resistance otherwise. After a brief pause in which I swiveled my ears and listened for any unsavory sounds, I entered the manor, having heard nothing out of the ordinary.
The fact that I'd heard nothing more than the odd rumble of distant thunder every so often and the occasional settling of the old manor gave me hope that maybe this unnamed beast below had been nothing more than a bit of mania on the old stallion's part. It was an involuntary hope—a kind of knee-jerk reaction to unpleasant expectations not having been met and the relief that follows. Realistically I knew that there must be more to see and that anything could happen, so I kept my guard up despite the fragile hope I'd gained.
The stale, musty air settled over me like a blanket the moment I set hoof inside, but it was the awful, unplaceable stench that nearly made me retreat back the way I came. It had been bad enough from a distance, but here inside the old structure it was just as unbearable as Wispy Willows claimed it to be. I knew I needed to bear with it regardless, so I fought down the rising bile in my throat and wiped my watery eyes dry before moving on.
The light coming in through the old windows was hardly enough to see by, and most of the interior remained shrouded in shadow. A suitably bright magenta glow enveloped my horn and lit up the world around me. The simple spell rectified the situation quite nicely and with a new source of light, I was able to see that I stood in the middle of a modest foyer with two sets of stairs on either side of the room leading to the second floor.
Most of the interior decor was made from marble, now cracked and worn with age, and the once lush carpeting and ornate drapery that adorned the floors and windows were now dusty, moth-eaten and full of holes. It was a sad state of affairs for what had clearly been a beautiful home once upon a time, but hardly surprising given the age of the long abandoned residence. Having taken everything in to my satisfaction, I focused again on locating Moon Dancer.
There were plenty of doors to choose from, with three on the ground floor and at least two more above from what I could gather. Each of them no doubt led deeper into the manor, and while I didn't outwardly relish having to search through each room individually, a smaller, more adventurous part of me grew thrilled at the thought. The unnerving silence and potent odor were enough to quell that part of me, and I resolved to search the premises as quickly and efficiently as I could.
The sudden creak of an opening door somewhere above told me I needn't have bothered, and with my heart in my throat and cry of surprise, I snapped a fearful gaze toward the noise. I heard the sound of hooves and a moment later an equine figure appeared. I focused the light around my horn into a cone which I directed toward the figure, and beyond the white marble railing that lined the upper floor I saw the bespectacled face of Moon Dancer.
In that moment I felt an odd mix of emotions, from relief, to worry, to outright fear. I called out to her, and in response she moved closer to the railing and peered down at me, a delighted smile lighting up her face as she saw me standing below. Her horn lit up suddenly and she vanished in a flash of pink-grey light before instantly reappearance by my side. Before I could make any kind of response, she spoke, greeting me as if all was right with the world.
I was more than a bit put off by her amiable greeting and had several questions I wanted to ask, but rather than play host to any of them, Moon Dancer instead bid me to follow her to some destination past a door on my far right. She gave me no time to argue as she turned and trotted away, and with no small amount of unease, I followed after.
I attempted to talk sense into the mare as she led me through one of several hallways past the door. I pleaded with her to abandon her ridiculous quest for this truth of hers. I told her that things had gone too far and that we needed to turn back, to forfeit that evil tome to Celestia and have her seal it away somewhere were nopony else could fall under its maddening influence, but all my begging and pleading fell on deaf ears.
Moon Dancer neither acknowledged my words nor broke her confident stride. The only reply I received was a small condescending chuckle and a pitying shake of the head from the mare. Eventually we reached the end of the hall and stood before an oaken pair of elaborately carved double doors. It was here that I began to hear something; it was a sound just on the edge of my hearing—a noise so quiet that I could've imagined it, and indeed thought that I had imagined it.
I strained my ears to hear it again, but my attempts were interrupted by the deep creak of the double doors as they were slowly forced open by Moon Dancer. As she pushed the doors further open to reveal what lie on the other side of the entrance, I heard the sound again, slightly louder this time. It was like a faint whisper or the low, quiet rasp of a weak old stallion, but not quite either of those. The sound made the skin crawl beneath my fur and set me on edge, but I was once again distracted, this time by the sight of the room I saw before me.
It was a private library, small in scale, but still large enough to house a dozen or so tall and lengthy bookshelves—bookshelves which were still well stocked with hundreds of ancient books left to rot in darkness and obscurity for over two centuries. A sudden flash of light lit up the room, and the mighty clap of thunder that followed soon after snapped me out of my reverie.
Blinking stupidly, I finally noticed that Moon Dancer had moved on and was now heading further into the library. I quickly followed after, scanning the shelves as I went and inwardly lamenting the poor condition of the books around me. I caught up with Moon Dancer soon enough, but didn't say anything more. I now knew any attempt at gentle persuasion was a lost cause, and I instead resolved to use a more forceful approach
We reached the opposite end of the musty old library and she paused. We both stood before a nondescript single door made of some type of dark wood, and in the brief silence Moon Dancer eyed it intently, taking it in with the look of a foal about to open their first present on Hearth's Warming. After a long moment she finally spoke, her eyes shining with savage triumph and her tone an odd mix of unbridled joy and stout conviction.
"I figured it out, Twilight! I found the missing piece to this insane puzzle and now it all makes sense, at least to me it does. I know you aren't quite convinced yet, but once I've told you what I've discovered—once I've shown you... once you know the truth about Lucerne and this manor, you'll understand why I can't stop now... why we can't stop. We need to finish what she started, and I'm not leaving this manor until we do."
With those ominous final words hanging in the air, she pulled open the door, stepped past the entrance and disappeared into yet another dark room. I stood there before the open doorway for another moment, gazing into that darkness and listening to the sound of Moon Dancer's hoofsteps as she made her way further into the room. I ruminated on her words, trying to understand what she meant and not liking the possibilities my mind conjured. Then that sound came again, even louder in my ears than before, but this time it was more than a whisper, more than a rasp.
I heard a voice whose tone and pitch I couldn't quite grasp. It was low, nearly inaudible, but there were words spoken—incomprehensible, but unmistakable. The sound of it set me trembling and I could feel the distant but familiar and distinct throb of a headache beginning to build. I didn't know what to make of what was happening to me then, but creeping dread and the fear of being alone finally pushed me to follow Moon Dancer one last time.
Another flash of light and another deafening crash of thunder resounded throughout the manor as I stepped over the threshold and into the dark room. That unknown, but powerfully malodorous stench which I'd been ignoring up until now with middling success, was strongest here in this room, and I couldn't help but gag as the scent seeped into my mouth and nostrils.
Somewhere ahead of me I heard Moon Dancer give another small chuckle before assuring me I'd grow used to it in time. I had no intention of growing used to anything remotely related to this place, but I held my tongue and said nothing. There was a sort of horrible tension in the nearly pitch black room that made my hairs stand on end, and I had to suppress a slight shudder at the sensation. I'd been so distracted by the chilling oddities that had been plaguing me that I'd all but forgotten my illumination spell.
I went to cast it once more, but had no need as Moon Dancer's own horn bathed the room in a pink-grey light. It didn't last long, and a brief moment later the pink-grey glow was replaced with the soft orange-yellow of a lit gas lamp that sat atop a cluttered desk in one corner of the room. Everything within the room was suddenly thrown into sharp relief and I could now see that the room had been far smaller than I realized.
One glance was enough to tell me that this had been somepony's private study, and though I've never been one to bet, I'd put all my bits on the room having belonged to Lucerne Hayseed herself. Looking around me, there could be seen the old wooden desk with the closed and brightly lit gas lamp, several stacked and rolled pieces of parchment, an inkwell, complete with a quill still wet with ink, and and two books, both of which sat open side by side and one of which looked terribly familiar.
Further observation revealed a mess of even more parchment that had been discarded and scattered about the ground around the desk and chair, a dry rot ridden bookshelf that took up most of one wall, and a large globe that sat atop an old dresser. The bookshelf, like the other shelves in the library, was full of crusty old tomes, but what grabbed and held my attention to the point that I felt almost spellbound, was the far wall opposite the entrance to the room.
Each of the walls aside from the one behind the large bookshelf had some manner of old family portrait or chart affixed to it, and there had even been an old fashioned blackboard similar to what Moon Dancer had in her own study. All these walls held something, save for the wall opposite the entrance, which was left completely and suspiciously bare. As I stared at that wall, my head began to pound painfully and that malefic, alien voice swelled in my ears.
This time I could almost make it out, but before I could fully understand what I'd heard, Moon Dancer chose that moment to speak. She moved over to the desk and sat herself on the chair before turning back to me, one hoof atop the book next to what I knew to be the mysterious tome, and another raised to her face to adjust her glasses.
"Evening Star had been right to send us to that old stallion. He had exactly the thing I needed to decipher the script within the tome. As it turns out, Lucerne kept a journal, and in it, she documented all her discoveries about the tome she'd originally gotten from that curio shop. Everything that had to do with that tome and what she did with it, it's all here.
"You see, Lucerne loved to collect all kinds of foreign or exotic things. It was a hobby of hers as a foal. When her parents died and she became head of the family, that never changed, and even as a grown mare she never stopped collecting weird knick-knacks, but it wasn't just strange exotic baubles she collected. She also had a pretty big collection of rare tomes, a lot of which you can see right over there on the bookshelf."
I resisted the urge to look, not wanting to humor the mare or give in to my own curiosity. What she was saying was far more important, and when Moon Dancer saw that my attention was still firmly focused on her, she gave a dismissive shrug and continued.
"As I said, the mare collected rare tomes, and according to her journal, she'd been given this tome by Sound Mind, who'd been running the curio shop at the time exactly as Kickshaw said. I don't know Sound Mind's true identity, but I know the stallion back then is the same stallion that passed the tome to me, and I'm also fairly certain he isn't a pony—not like you or me.
"That aside, Lucerne took the tome and, like the two of us, she tried to decipher it. She tried for months, spending a ridiculous amount of embezzled bits on resources and traveling the world looking for answers, but like us, she failed. She became obsessed, but didn't find her answers until she went back to see Sound Mind at the curio shop..."
Moon Dancer paused suddenly and turned back to the journal, magically flipping through its worn yellow pages. She stopped on a single page and read it a moment before speaking again, her eyes scanning the page and her voice carrying a slow thoughtfulness.
"She doesn't say what happened during the visit, only that whatever it was, was 'like experiencing a thousand nightmares made real', but when she next left the shop, she could read the tome, so I suppose it must've been worth it. No... it was worth it!"
At this, she hopped out of the chair and moved closer to the opposite wall that held a strange thrall over me only a few moments ago. She wrapped the tome in her magic and dragged it over to her before flipping it open and searching the pages. As she did so, she picked back up her explanation, the excitement once again seeping into her voice.
"She actually did it, Twilight! Once she knew how to read the language in this tome, Lucerne actually took the time to translate it all into Ponish, and documented the entire translation in her journal... but then she made a horrible mistake..."
She stopped flipping through the tome, apparently having found what she was looking for, then looked towards the wall and gave a visible shudder. I couldn't see her face, turned away from me as she was, but her next words were quiet and troubled.
"I was able to memorize enough of the language to read the tome, and some of the things I learned... the terrifying rituals... the gruesome sacrifices... There's so many awful things I found in here, but the knowledge I've gained in return more than makes up for it. There are gods that exist, Twilight... actual gods that exist in realms and dimensions we can't possibly fathom!
"The Great Dreamer who sleeps beneath the sea of a distant world... the Black Goat of the Woods which bears a Thousand Young... the Opener of the Way... The Crawling Chaos... the Blind Idiot God, and so many more besides, and they all exist, Twilight! They're as real as you or me, and their existence can be proven through this tome!"
I watched with growing horror as Moon Dancer worked herself into a frenzy. Her mane had come undone, her glasses had long since fallen from her face, and her eyes were wild. She shivered, lost in, and blinded by, the ecstasy of her discovery. The mare had become completely unhinged, driven mad by the 'truth' she coveted so much, and still she continued on.
"There are other things too! You saw them here in the tome, even if you couldn't read it, even if you didn't know... you saw those creatures! Some of them aren't gods at all. Some of them can be summoned, contained, controlled even! There are rituals meant to do just that... I've seen them, read of some of them in the tome. While you were still trying to catch up to me, I found the ritual Lucerne had intended to use, I compared her notes to the actual ritual in the tome! Here, take a look for yourself!"
Still holding the tome aloft, she grabbed up the journal from the desk, brought it over to her and opened it in her magic. She turned page after page until she found the section she was looking for, then, with a manic smile on her face, she thrust the open journal toward me, nearly pressing it to my muzzle in the process.
Out of reflex I took the journal in my own magic and, spurred on by some dark and morbid curiosity, I read. I wanted to look away and deny Moon Dancer's request, but my eyes were pulled toward the words, and I took in the knowledge of the despicable rite Lucerne had inacted. I read of how she'd had a basement built below the manor in secret, how she, with the help of a hired mage, used a combination of old alchemy and modern magic to make a powerful entrapment seal.
My face paled as I read of how she'd intended to head down into that basement and, upon the completion of the ritual chamber which she'd erected below, sacrifice in cold blood the very mage who'd helped her accomplish her blasphemous endeavor. My eyes widened with horror, disgust, and a twisted fascination as I continued to read of the nameless thing she hoped to summon forth from realms unknown with ancient words not meant to be uttered by any sane creature with the capacity for higher thought.
The words written in the old journal came to an end without resolution. Whether or not she'd succeed in her rite remained unanswered within those pages, and that, along with her documented disappearance under mysterious circumstances, led me to believe she'd failed and suffered unspeakable consequences as a result. But what then of the entity she meant to bring to Equestria from beyond? Was Wispy Willows telling the truth? Had she actually succeeded as far to summon the creature and perished once she'd tried to control it?
As I finished the last sentence, that voice which had eluded my understanding since I'd entered the library rose once again to fill my ears with its unsettling, unearthly tone. It mingled strangely with Moon Dancer's own words, giving them an odd, almost alien quality.
"She almost had it... complete control of that formless beast from another plane. But she faltered at the last moment and paid for her failure. I'm smarter than that, though—stronger than that, we both are! Help me finish what she started, Twilight, please! Lucerne already did most of the work... she's already made the necessary sacrifice! W-we won't have to get our hooves dirty! The only thing needed now is just to break the seal a-and give the command in the ancient tongue.
"I know the words, I studied them before you arrived. She never completed the full ritual, but I know we can! I told you I'd find the whole truth, and now I have! Now I can show you what lies beyond the veil of our limited understanding! Together we can accomplish what Lucerne tried and failed to do so long ago!"
She turned back to the blank wall and the pink-grey light around her horn brightened considerably. Several pieces of the wooden paneling that made up the wall briefly radiated the same light before shifting slightly. A complex and sizable magic sigil burned itself into the wooden panels, briefly glowing white hot with pent up mana before fading to a blackened imprint upon the wall. Then with a soft click, the panels slid back and to the side to reveal a steep wooden stairwell leading downward into foreboding darkness.
"The basement... the ritual chamber... it's here, just down these steps. I've unlocked the seal... it's a powerful seal to be sure, but relatively simple to undo if you know the underlying principles... now we can go to where it lies sleeping below and I'll speak the words, then you'll see... so many possibilities..."
With the tome floating beside her, Moon Dancer started forward and down the steps like a mare possessed, murmuring and muttering of limitless potential, scientific miracles, and world changing revelations all the while. Despite her proclivity to include me in her plans, it looked as though Moon Dancer had all but forgotten me; in her psychosis, she hadn't once looked back to see whether or not I would follow.
I watched her sink further and further into that black abyss, both physically and mentally, and decided now was the time to act. The extent to which she'd fallen nearly broke me, and I could no longer suffer the sight of her in that state. Fear, panic and dismay flooded my veins, and in the throes of my distress, I made to pull her back from the stairs and send us both away from the dreadful manor via teleportation. Try as I might however, the magic wouldn't come.
In its place came a migraine so great that I crumpled to the floor, whimpering in agony. My vision began to blur and swim in and out of focus, and I momentarily lost all sense of time. I couldn't tell if hours had passed by or if it was mere seconds that I lie there in the study, and then there were the formless twisted shapes that began to dance in my periphery. In my sudden delirium it was impossible for me to tell reality from nightmarish hallucination.
Somewhere in my mind I was convinced I was the one going mad, and that fear only became more prominent as the demoniac voice filled my mind and blotted out nearly everything else from existence. Here is where I feel my sanity begins to fail me, and I can only speak of the things I thought I saw and heard in that moment of pure hysteria.
As I said before, it was impossible for me to tell how long the maddening affliction affected me, and as it went on, the horrific visions began to worsen considerably, but that was only the beginning—the prelude to my inevitable flight from the manor. Eventually the voice began to quiet enough for me to hear something far worse.
Floating up from the basement far below, I could make out the sound of not just one, but several flutes piping strange and discordant notes. The tone was incredibly unpleasant to the ear and brought forth ghastly images of creatures that even now I cannot and will not describe for fear that I might fall into another violent fit.
Still worse than even that was the unmistakable voice of Moon Dancer, whose manic cry I could also hear from below. She shouted and ranted and raved as if in a fever, and the words she spoke were so bizarre and otherworldly that I could scarcely believe it came from any language spoken by the many sapient creatures that inhabited this planet. As I write this, I can still remember the words as they practically tore themselves from Moon Dancer's lips.
"...nafl'fhtagn, mgepogor nyth'drn ot Mgepoghnahh... nafl'fhtagn ng mggoka'ai ya uln! nafl'fhtagn ng ahnyth mgepnah uh'eog!"
These uncanny words she bellowed over and over again, chanting them with a fervor bordering on absolute fanaticism, and before long, I heard a response. Something began to stir beneath the floor, the sound of it like the rumbling of an oncoming landslide. Its movements alone were enough to shake the very walls around me, but Moon Dancer seemed to pay it no heed as her infernal chant continued to rise from the basement.
What came next was an appalling cacophony of squelching and sloshing that brought to mind some kind of gigantic slimy mass, and the smell! In the pandemonium that followed Moon Dancer's descent into the the basement, I'd almost forgotten how horrible the stink permeating the manor had been, but now it intensified to the point that I could no longer hold back my bile and was forced to purge the contents of my previous meal from my stomach.
A strange cry caught my attention as I wiped the sick from my mouth and struggled to rise to my hooves. It took me a moment to realize that the cry had a similar, almost one-to-one property to the odd piping I'd heard before, but this time, I swore that in my addled state, I could hear words repeated within those haunting tones.
Tekeli-li... Tekeli-li...
The words repeated themselves again and once more, growing louder each time. Still somewhat indisposed and crippled by fear, pain and twisted visions, I could only listen as Moon Dancer's distant voice grew more frantic and fearful, wavering more and more with each repetition of her sinister chant. Then, all at once there came a deafening alien wail whose reverberations were enough to shatter the ancient windows of the manor. Immediately following the horrid cry were Moon Dancer's last desperate shouts, hysterical pleas that would forever haunt my waking thoughts.
"Ah'hri ya... ah'hri ya! No, why isn't it working?! Why isn't this working?! Somepony help... Oh Celestia h-help me! Twilight! Twilight, where are you?!"
Her words quickly devolved into blood-curdling screams that shook me like no other experience ever had, or ever would again. The grisly sounds which followed were enough to finally stir my violently trembling legs to action, and, fighting the pain in my head and the dark twisting shapes in my eyes, I turned from the basement and ran.
Another cry of those strange musical words rang out behind me and as I reached the door on the opposite side of the room and pulled it open, another bout of foolish and morbid curiosity overtook me and I paused, turning my frightened, teary gaze back toward the stairwell.
The squelching, sucking, and sloshing grew louder and louder, and as I watched, now completely frozen by boundless terror, some formless shape began to ooze its way up the stairs and into view. More and more of it rose up out of the depths of the basement and spilled into the study. The sight of it was hideous on a level that could not be fathomed by any rational pony, and I was far from rational. Nothing about the situation was rational.
I felt like I was in a surreal nightmare, unable to properly comprehend the vile mass whose monstrous snapping jaws, many bulbous eyes and other gruesome protrusions morphed and bubbled, constantly shifting from place to place upon its amorphic, gelatinous flesh. It wailed again as more of its slimy bulk erupted from the stairwell and into the room. I was broken free of my statue-like state, and with my last remaining shred of reason, I turned away and fled the study.
As I tore my way through the library, I could hear the walls begin to creak and groan. Another wail followed me, but I didn't dare look back this time. On the edges of my vision I could see more of that repulsive ooze pushing its way through the walls and shelves, knocking over books and cracking apart the marble from the walls, floor and ceiling. At some point I made it out of the library and into the hall, and soon enough, I was back in the foyer and heading for the main entrance at a breakneck pace. I gave no thought to whether or not the nameless terror had followed after me; I was too far gone, reduced to the baser instincts of a prey animal fleeing from a predator on the hunt.
Lightning and thunder flashed and cracked across the sky as I barreled through the front door of the manor and out into the torrential downpour that had settled over the swamplands. I ignored it all, my broken, fear ravaged mind focused only on escape and survival. Thus was horror of the blackest depths and madness of the highest order born deep within the bowels of that old manor... horror and madness enough to send me screaming back into the putrid swamplands with what little remained of my own sanity... and that horrible cry echoing through the howling wind and rain...
I don't remember much of what happened after my flight from the manor, and even now I'm unsure of just how much of what I experienced was real. From what I was told by my friends upon their first visit to the hospital where I was admitted, I'd been rescued and guided back to the edge of the swamplands by Wispy Willows. Apparently he'd been worried enough to go looking for me despite his fear of the old manor.
He'd found me beneath the shade of a tree, nearly catatonic and muttering Moon Dancer's name over and over again. He was able to guide me back to the edge of the swamp where his cabin was before leaving again to get help. By the time help arrived from Dodge City, I was in an inconsolable panic, spouting gibberish and lashing out at anypony and everypony who came near.
I was eventually sedated, contained and brought here to this hospital where I now reside indefinitely. Because of my mental state, it's taken me several weeks to document the events that befell both Moon Dancer and I, but now that I've reached the end I can't help but wonder what became of the thing which Moon Dancer had foolishly awakened and fallen victim to as a result. I'm absolutely certain she shared the same grisly fate as Lucerne Hayseed, but I've heard no news of any such creature rampaging across Equestria in the time I've been confined here.
I haven't told anypony of what transpired inside that manor, but the seal was left unbroken. Surely the formless thing would have escaped to cause untold terror and destruction? Had it remained in the manor? I admit that in my madness, some of the horrors I witnessed may have been of my own making, as might the dark and unfathomable voice that still plagues me, but I can't possibly have imagined the entire venture. No, I didn't imagine the thing that took my friend from me. I didn't hallucinate the monstrosity that oozed out of the basement.
I don't know what to make of it, but once Celestia reads this—if she reads it, then perhaps she can do something. Perhaps she can do what I couldn't and stop that abomination from hurting anypony else. And to any others who may read this and has made it this far, I give you one last word of caution. If you ever encounter a stallion calling himself Sound Mind, I beg you to turn the other way and ignore him. Avoid him if you can, and don't listen to his words.
Most importantly, if he offers you anything—be it a tome, a simple bauble, friendly advice, anything... don't take it. After what I bore witness to in Hayseed Manor—the horrors I experienced, I'm fully convinced that Moon Dancer had the right of it. That stallion is not what he seems, and what he offers will only bring ruin and madness.
