Unrequited passion is a dangerous force. A lethal force, even.
On the eve of Twilight's wedding, trouble is brewing. Fluttershy mourns the love she lost and contemplates the bitter dregs of hate. Two friends loved the same stallion and he chose one. As mysterious murders rock the city of Canterlot and an ancient evil returns to battles long abandoned, Twilight and Fluttershy will finally have that peculiar heart to heart that only rivals in love can have.
Unrequited passion is a dangerous force. In normal circumstances, a controllable one. When two mares who loved the same pony are left alone in the dark? Perhaps a lethal one.
(EDITED by the Illustrious RazedRainbow, the better craftsman. )
They were below the window, on the steps that led into the house that Twilight had grown up in. Lover and Beloved, locked in an embrace in the night. The stallion would say his goodbyes and be off into the night, back down the hill to where he was staying with one of his groomsponies’ uncle.
Twilight trembled with barely contained excitement. “Just a few days! I’d say that I had butterflies in my stomach, but I don’t think it adequately describes this.”
Big Macintosh simply smiled and nuzzled her. “Eeyup.”
“I can’t wait,” she said, kissing him gently under the lamplight before nuzzling back under his chin. “I really can’t. I’m not even sure how I’ll get to sleep tonight.”
“I reckon that you’ll find a way. It’s been a long day, Twi. Besides, you girls are gonna need your rest for tomorrow,” he drawled as he stroked her mane with his forehoof. “But I know what ya mean now. I’m right wound up myself…” He smirked. “If I can get over those fine legs of yours and get some sleep, I know you can.” Twilight blushed furiously, swatting at him halfheartedly. They both laughed.
They quieted and stood still for a moment, ignoring their surroundings. The night was quiet, and the streets of this part of the residential area were all but abandoned. For all intents and purposes, they were alone here with each other, happy as they could be.
Fluttershy’s eyes bored into them.
Her gaze was like the arrow of a nameless and jealous god. She watched how they smiled and how they spoke in hushed, happy tones. Most of all, she noted how beautiful Big Macintosh was, the otherwise unkind gaslights casting his face in sharp contrast. He was a painted study in tenebrism, and as she considered him, her heart beat faster. He was exquisite, the most perfect of all possible stallions. Oh, she saw Twilight too—her feelings about that were a bit different.
“Fluttershy?”
She whirled, her wings flaring violently as she regarded the intruder with wide eyes.
Rainbow Dash stood in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. Fluttershy cowered as the now open door let light flood into the once dark room.
“Fluttershy? What are you doing?”
Oh, you know what I’m doing, she snarled in her mind. If Rainbow did, she was doing a good job of pretending; she obviously seemed to be waiting for some sort of answer. Fluttershy fought the urge to whimper, and shame filled her. What was she doing? It took far too much effort to resist the urge to wipe the sordid feelings from her coat.
“I… nothing. I’m not doing anything,” she said, not really having anything to say. How could she explain? Below, her sharp hearing picked up a final goodbye followed by distinctly feminine laughter. Fluttershy tasted bile.
“Oh,” Rainbow said lamely, turning the lights on. Fluttershy winced and covered her eyes. Rainbow hovered over and landed beside her. With gentle hooves, she guided her friend away from the window.
“We were kinda looking for you, Flutters. Nopony’s seen you since dinner.”
Of course they hadn’t. She’d been up here, waiting—knowing that they’d come out into the lamplight, knowing that he would be there, knowing she couldn’t watch them talking on the couches with Twilight’s parents, knowing she couldn’t deal with the playful jabs Rainbow would give Applejack about her brother being married, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to stay still or laugh when Pinkie inevitably made jokes about the farmer being an “auntie”.
Her friend continued. “You know… just wondering where my oldest friend was and all that. I guess you’re tired from the trip and all the chaos today, huh? It’s been getting to me to.”
Rainbow was rambling, and they both knew it. Fluttershy’s normal charity returned briefly, and the almost constant bitter mental monologue subsided. Oh, Rainbow. You’re not good at this whole feelings thing, but it’s okay. Don’t stop.
“Rarity’s got some tea going downstairs. You like tea, right? I mean, of course you do.” They were on the stairs now, headed down towards the living room. Below them, the couches were empty, and the space was dark. Twilight’s parents had retired for the night when their daughter and her intended had walked outside. The lights in the kitchen were on, however, and they banished the darkness from around the doorframe. The light tones of happy conversation drifted up towards Fluttershy, and for perhaps the fifth time since the wedding party had arrived in Canterlot she felt her stomach churn and her legs long to flee.
But she didn’t. She had to do this for Rainbow, who still watched her with uncertainty and concern. She had to do it for Rarity and Applejack and Pinkie and….
Twilight Sparkle?
She didn’t want to think about that right now. She prepared her false front. It wasn’t very hard, now that the stallion she loved was gone. She was naturally quiet and good at fading into the background, after all.
Twilight lay in her old bed and dreamed.
In her dreams, she saw the train hurtling towards Canterlot with reckless abandon, as if at any moment it might derail. She felt sick and weightless, floating in midair. Suddenly, as if some great hook had her, she found herself pulled toward the train. She phased through the ceiling of one of the cars and found herself back on the train she’d taken with her friends to Canterlot that very morning.
She saw herself talking with Rarity while Rainbow Dash napped beside them. She saw Rarity stroke Rainbow’s mane while her brother and Big Macintosh discussed something at the front of the train. It should have been something that warmed her heart, but the feeling of impending… something remained. What had started as wordless ill-feeling had become something more: dread.
The dream controlled her, though she was now aware of her own slumber. She found herself forced to look beyond her earlier self and away from her beloved, towards the almost empty back of the car. There, on the last row, was Fluttershy. Her friend Fluttershy, curled up and alone. It hurt her heart. She wanted to talk, to tell her that it was okay. She wanted to offer this doppelganger of her kind friend something: platitudes, some word she’d remembered from the Princess, anything. How had she not done this before? She willed the earlier Twilight to excuse herself from Rarity’s conversing and come back here. It didn’t matter that this was an odd place for such an intimate talk or that it was a little late to be having it. This was deep. Pain and empathy clawed at her.
But it was easier to see things from this angle. The Twilight who sat in her seat talking wasn’t thinking at all about the misery which festered five rows back. An uncharacteristically solemn Pinkie watched in her stead. The pink pony walked by and said something softly to Fluttershy that the dreaming Twilight could not catch, and the pegasus shifted to make room.
Fluttershy sat up, and the two of them talked. All the while, Fluttershy’s eyes drifted from her comforter to Twilight’s head, and then finally to Macintosh—where it stayed.
Twilight’s first thought was strong and unpleasant. Mine.
She banished the petty instinct almost immediately. Oh, Fluttershy… I think I may have made a grave mistake. I thought this would give you closure.
As Fluttershy talked, Twilight began to notice something out of place about her. On her chest, right in the center, there was a small dark spot. It stood out in stark contrast to her otherwise yellow coat. It seemed almost alive, moving. Surely that’s just… No, it’s moving. Oh Celestia, what is that? I think it’s growing. What is that?
Had it been there the whole time? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t dwell on it, for the tiny black spot had become almost the size of her hoof, and it was definitely moving. It swirled like a whirlpool.
She could feel it, in the strangest fashion. It was almost whispering words that would tease her mind with hints of meaning and then vanish as she tried to grasp at them. Her body was pulled in—driftwood before a maelstrom. She was paralyzed in mute fear. There was no fighting this current. The black swirling vortex had her now; there was no escape. The only one with agency here was Fluttershy. Somehow, she knew that this was something only Fluttershy could prevent.
And then she fell out of bed—panting—waking Pinkie with her ragged groans.
Fluttershy, for the first time in her life, didn’t mind the press of the crowd. In fact, the noise and happy bustle of Canterlot’s market was a welcome change from the intimate air of the Sparkles’ living room which she’d had to share with Twilight and her other friends.
Friend. It was still true—Twilight was still her friend. There was love and affection between them. Fluttershy had asked herself over the last few months whether it was still true, and every time she’d come up with the same answer: yes.
Still, every time the answer seemed further and further out of reach.
But shopping was a welcome distraction. Keeping a sharp eye out for good deals on signs kept her from thinking about her troubles. Flanking her on either side were Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both of whom kept their eyes out for the last few must-have items on their collective list. Pinkie, to nopony’s surprise, was up ahead, wandering from stall to stall. Fluttershy considered her talking animatedly with a stall owner. I wish I could just do that—talk to ponies the way Pinkie always manages to. She never has a problem talking about what’s on her mind.
From beside her, Applejack grumbled, “I have got to talk to my brother when he gets home from his gallivantin’. This town has a mighty need for quality apples, and I think we could do somethin’ ‘bout it.”
“Ah, lighten up,” Rainbow said from Fluttershy’s other side. “They can’t be that bad!”
Fluttershy ignored them—she had absolutely no desire to hear anything else after the word “brother”—and watched Pinkie. Rainbow mentioned something about checking out one last stall for quality apples, and Fluttershy gave a brief and merely functional assent.
Pinkie was stillchatting amiably with the stall owner, looking over his wears all the while. It was fascinating to Fluttershy how effortlessly Pinkie got the stallion laughing. How she had him genuinely excited to show off his best goods—his most colorful candies, the kind that would make even the strongest of wills weak from halfway down the street. Was it in how she talked, energetically and enthusiastically?
She drifted over to the smiling pony’s side as Pinkie finally paid for a bag of treats. As her friend turned and greeted her, Fluttershy gestured towards the others. Fluttershy asked the question that was on her mind.
“How do you do it, Pinkie? Speak your mind so easily, I mean.”
“Oh, that? I just talk, silly. No, I mean it! He works at a bakery, and I knew he would be proud of his treats because I’m proud of mine, and I asked him about them and complemented him on his presentation and presto! It’s not hard to just talk to ponies, you just have to begin. Once you start, you’ll know what to do.”
Fluttershy had a hard time believing that, though it seemed to work for Pinkie. She thought about speaking her mind about red stallions and let the line of inquiry drop.
The list was fulfilled, but the girls didn’t want to give up their wanderings quite yet. They dropped the last of the ingredients for dinner into Applejack’s saddlebags and meandered back the way they had come. Here and there they would stop to examine some bit of finery or novelty with no intentions of buying it, just enjoying the vibrant open air market of the ancient city.
Fluttershy stayed towards the rear of their party, interested in the moving feast of color and sound but not engaging it. She was content to watch and admire the pretty things from afar. In some ways, it was like Rarity’s boutique when she visited the fashionable mare: shining glories all about, and with her in the middle of them all. You never touched the fragile (or at least, valuable) things. Never for you, Fluttershy. You might break them. Remember when your legs were too long and how you were always tripping?
She had always been breaking precious things. Real things and illusions—weren’t these colorful raiments that Pinkie was pointing out to Rainbow an illusion? Like the illusions she’d created about a certain…
She simply had to stop thinking this way.
Amidst the calling of the vendors, she heard a very different voice calling her name. She stopped and looked around her for the source while her friends walked on, not yet aware of her absence.
“Fluttershy.”
There, off to her right, a pony in a black hooded cloak sat in the alley. He smiled at her, friendly as could be. Something about that smile made her misgivings at his odd appearance melt away. His eyes glinted strangely in the shadow that his hood made over his face, but she ignored this and faced him.
“Y-yes? Who are you, sir? How do you know my name?”
“Oh, Fluttershy—we’ve met before! You don’t remember me, I know. We met in passing, here in Canterlot. I believe... the night of the Grand Galloping Gala.”
She looked back on her memories of that unfortunate night, but did not recall this strange stallion.
“No... sorry...”
He flashed her a conciliatory smile.
“Oh, but that is quite alright. After all, it was passing moment. My name is Elder Sign, and I am a fortune teller by trade. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bowed in a stiff and formal manner, and she blushed.
“Oh my... Sorry, I don’t remember. Nice to meet you, Mr. Elder Sign.” Her friends quite forgotten, Fluttershy found herself utterly entranced by this stallion with his strange, almost aristocratic accent.
“You’ll forgive me, most kind madame, if I presume upon you for a moment of your time… You seemed rather melancholic! As a teller of fortunes, I have studied the faces and hearts of ponies as much as I have the far and mysterious stars, and I can see what troubles the heart from far off.”
She bristled. “I… I’d rather not talk about it, thank you.” The spell momentarily broken, she began to notice certain oddities about him: He seemed uncomfortable in the light, and there was something about his eyes. She couldn’t place what exactly seemed off, though.
He backpedaled fiercely. “Oh, I am dreadfully sorry milady! I did not mean to pry into such matters; they are quite rightly kept close and secret from ponies you have only just begun to know.”
His voice was so smooth and deep, his delivery of each syllable like the swayings of the poetry she’d learned in her school days. She could feel the glamour come over her again. Oh, he didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive… Pinkie was right! You just talk to ponies and everything will work out for you. It really is just the starting that’s hard.
He continued, “I only wished to offer my condolences, Miss Fluttershy… and perhaps offer you a small trinket of my sincere apology for having presumed to comment on your sadness. It was quite forward of me. Will you take it?” He dug into his cloak and produced a circular amulet.
It was a curious thing: old, made of cold iron, and set with a ruby. Around the ruby were woven delicate lines of some black stone which she didn’t recognize. Like dark lace… It’s so pretty.
“For me?” she managed to say, surprised at the beauty of her gift. It glittered in the air between them, Elder Sign holding it for her to inspect by the gold chain.
“Oh, of course. It’s the least I could do. Here, let us see how it fits you.” She ducked her head for him to bestow it upon her.
It was heavy upon her but not overly so. The metal was cold; she could feel it absorbing the heat from her body and warming.
“I love it,” she whispered in a little sing-song.
“I am very glad, sweet Fluttershy. Now, I believe your friends are looking for you! I’m sorry to have kept you. Until we meet again.” As quickly as he had seemed to appear, he vanished. The amulet grew lighter and lighter, and in a moment it was seemingly gone.
Fluttershy blinked. What had she been doing? Rainbow was calling for her, tense worry in her cracking voice, and Fluttershy turned towards her.
“Oh, I’m sorry… I must have gotten distracted. I’m sorry, girls.”
Rainbow landed beside her. “Fluttershy! Don’t do that to me! We couldn’t find you anywhere! Where were you?”
“I… I think I was right here. I don’t remember wandering too far…”
“I searched here,” Rainbow said, frowning, but then she sighed and shrugged it off. “Oh well. I guess we found you. Just… be a little safer, okay? C’mon, cheer up, we aren’t mad! Here, we can fly over the crowd and be there in just a minute, alright?”
Fluttershy looked down and nodded. The two pegasi took to the sky and glided over to their friends.
Left behind, the pony who named himself Elder Sign on a whim watched with a blank expression. He did not smile or chuckle at the success of his ploy—such expressions were beneath him. The black eyes which regarded the retreating form of Fluttershy held nothing but alien hatred and mute anticipation.
Rarity and Twilight walked through the halls of Canterlot Palace together. Rarity, predictably, was blissfully and perfectly at home amongst all the finery and fussiness of the palace. She’d chatted amiably about the décor and their meeting with Twilight’s brother and his royal bride for tea, but Twilight’s thoughts had been far from her surroundings.
Her dream haunted her. She still remembered that bizarre cold and the feeling of being pulled down against her will towards the darkness.
She’d not spoken to any of the girls about it that morning, and her interactions with her parents had all been quite nightmare-free. She suspected that Rarity saw through her—tea with Shining and Cadance for just her and Twilight had been her idea, after all—but she didn’t know for sure. Now, walking towards the gardens to guide Rarity through some of her favorite places, Twilight had time to think.
Shining Armor was quite happy to see her, but he’d been distracted. Reports of a practitioner of dark and forbidden arts had been circulating when he’d boarded the train to Ponyville days ago, but they’d been mere rumors. He’d returned to a city guard in a panic. Shining tried to downplay it, but his leave had been cancelled except for the bare minimum of time required to attend the wedding and the rehearsal. He really was a terrible liar, on top of it all.
Murders. Several of them. That’s what she’d been able to discover. Apparently, they’d been rather grisly too. The killer’s calling card in each case was a poorly drawn symbol all over the walls in the victim’s blood. Beyond that, there were few connections. Each killing was different, unique. Something about the way they’d been done pulled at her memory, but she didn’t know for the life of her why. Some book she’d read? Regardless, the symbol hadn’t called up any memories. A star with a strange swirling of blood like the killer brought a hoof to the center after he’d finished. Twilight had seen pictures, and shivered, imagining.
It had certainly dampened the mood a bit. Shining, Celestia bless him, had tried his best to stay positive and cheerful, but he had seemed shaken up. When he and Cadance had been called to the Princesses’ side, he’d suggested a walk in the garden. Don’t feel so bad about it, big brother. I’d rather you save ponies than spend this brief time with me, if the two are mutually exclusive.
Briefly, she wondered if this disturbing murderer and her dream were connected.
They left the stately halls behind for the relative peace of the statue gardens. The two unicorns walked among the various statues in silence. Twilight thought, Rarity will try to distract me soon, I know it. Am I so transparent? So easily read? There are worse faults, I guess.
“Excited for your big day, dear?” Rarity asked her.
Twilight laughed, resisting the urge to nod. Right on cue. “Is it that obvious? Am I bouncing?”
“A little. Oh, love is so wonderful! To be married! It will all be quite an adventure.”
Twilight spoke before thinking. “When are you and Rainbow settling down?”
She winced at the sigh Rarity let out. Oops.
“I ask myself that often. She may be loyal and faithful, but Rainbow is hard to pin down. She wants her space…” She lowered her voice and spoke in a mock-conspiratorial tone. “And between you and me, mare to mare, sometimes I wonder if I’d see her at all sometimes if it weren’t for socks and how refined my legs are in them. Only shapely legs have the power to keep that pegasus grounded.”
Twilight laughed, surprised at this sudden foray into the risqué. “Rarity!”
“It’s true! It’s quite hard, Twilight, to set yourself apart from the vast host of Ponyville. Mare and stallion alike, everypony wants Dash, but I have her! And you know why? Besides my own beauty, of course, it’s because I work quite hard to keep her coming back!
Scandalized but still laughing, Twilight found herself blushing and was suddenly glad that Rainbow Dash and Rarity were not sleeping on her or Shining’s old beds.
Rarity sighed again. “No, but I do wish, Twilight. I love Rainbow very much. She’s dear to me. She’s loyal and brave and has a good heart. She’s even willing to try new things, like go to the spa with me or accompany me on trips to Canterlot and Manehattan for fashion events. But… it’s hard for Rainbow to stay still. I want domestic bliss—quiet if at all possible. If nothing else, I’d like to be able to safely say I share a house with my significant other the majority of the time.”
“But isn’t she staying with you? She moved her cloudhouse!”
Rarity shook her head. “She’s out late, or she doesn’t come back because she’s in Wonderbolt training camp. I understand it, and while I’m lonely… I know how important this is to her. What grates are those precious times we do have together. She just won’t… commit. Rainbow is all for risk when she understands the danger. It’s the unknown danger she won’t brave without a push. I’m her first marefriend, did you know that?”
“I… I’d kind of assumed she’d had a lot. I’m sorry, I know that sounds a little rude.” Twilight looked down, missing Rarity shaking her head again.
“No. Most people are surprised. She’s dated stallions—she’s not like I am, Twilight. I’ve told you all about my days as a young mare. Rainbow... She was finding out about herself and all that. But Thunderlane was her last, and that was years ago. Romance was never her ‘thing,’ you might say. Those relationships were usually short and for fun and not very serious.”
“So… she bucks at the reins.”
“Exactly,” said Rarity with some exasperation. “Honestly, Twilight, as much as I jest about keeping her coming back, I do feel a little rejected. It’s been three years, and we’re both fairly sure. We started dating before you and Macintosh went on your first date—long before—and she just… doesn’t wish to speak of it. She trusts me, but she also thinks I’m antsy and jumpy and…”
“Rarity…” They stopped.
“I’m sorry, Twilight. Seeing your brother and his wife… just made me feel a bit melancholy. Will you forgive me?” Rarity looked down at her hooves. “I think that seeing how happy you and Macintosh are—and Shining, of course—will help bring her around. She does love me, and I love her. I just want her to be willing to make it permanent and official. Be my… princess,” she said with a laugh. “It doesn’t really work with that word. Prince and princess have different connotations.”
“How about… ‘hero’?” Twilight offered, trying to smile.
“It’ll do, I suppose. Yes, that.”
They both smiled fully then, and continued on. Twilight assumed that the storm clouds had passed.
After some time, Rarity spoke again. “Twilight, I need to ask you something.”
“Yes?” Rarity’s tone put her on the defensive.
“It’s about Fluttershy.”
Twilight sighed deeply. “Yes?” she repeated, a little defeated.
“Why? I need to hear it from you why you made her a bridesmare. You must know how she’s been these last few days.”
“I do,” she admitted. “I made a mistake, but I’m not sure there was any really good course of action.”
Rarity waited for the rest of her explanation in heavy silence.
“I… we all knew that Fluttershy liked Macintosh. You know just as well as I do that how much she liked him was always a mystery. She never discussed it at length with us and we had to pull it out of her bit by bit. Remember, by the time I talked to her about Macintosh and I dating, we all sort of assumed she was moving on.”
Rarity nodded, and her expression softened. “Yes, darling. I remember all that. Continue, please.”
Twilight knew she was starting to ramble, but she couldn’t help it. So much had built up inside her and she’d had no one to talk to. “I guess I wanted something, and I was willing to fool myself into thinking it was more attainable than it was. I grasped at that straw—that she was getting over him. When he asked me to marry him and I asked all you girls to be bridesmares in turn… I was deluding myself into thinking that she was sad but no longer truly in love. I thought this would be closure. I didn’t want her to be all alone in Ponyville without any of us. She’s my friend...” Twilight faltered, then stopped.
Rarity stopped as well and considered this before answering. “I’d say that I wasn’t sure how wise that decision was, Twilight, but I think that’s obvious by now to both of us. But you have a point. Fluttershy at home, these emotions festering with no one like Dash or I to check them…”
They stayed like that for some time, in the quiet solitude of the garden. It was Twilight who broke the silence.
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” she mumbled. “By the time it finally dawned on me just how much Fluttershy still cared, it was too late to do anything about it. I’d already asked her. It would be even worse to have to ask her to stay away from my wedding. Wouldn’t it?”
“I… believe so, yes. We should’ve talked about this much earlier. Forgive me, Twilight, but I was so caught up in work—so excited about making your dress. Oh, but we are a lot of fools. Fluttershy won’t give any of us straight answers, you let yourself believe a fairy tale, and I didn’t do my part in pulling you out of it.”
“I just want us to be friends again.” Twilight grimaced. “I mean, I still love Fluttershy. You’re all my best friends. I’m mostly sure that she still loves me and wants to be my friend.”
“In any other case, Twilight—in fact, even a week ago—the doubt in your voice would have appalled me. But these last few days… Forgive me, Twilight. I’m so happy for you and Macintosh. You complement each other so well, and it’s been a joy to see you open up and fall in love! But sometimes I wish you’d never met him.”
Twilight looked down at the floor. “I… I won’t be sorry for loving him.”
“I know. I don’t ask you to. I’m not sure what I really want, dear. All of this simply has me on edge, and I’ve been paranoid that this was some sort of ploy. Forgive me once more, Twilight, for thinking you were doing this as some sort of ‘claim’ on him to run her off.”
“It’s okay,” Twilight mumbled. “I didn’t expect to be feeling this way the day before my wedding, you know.”
Rarity scooted closer and hugged her tightly. “I know you didn’t. You are an excellent mare, Twilight. Your wedding will be beautiful. Your life with Macintosh will be wonderful. This too, shall pass. Fluttershy still loves you. I know she does. She has to! She’s just in mourning right now.”
“So you think this won’t end in us being five?” Twilight asked quietly.
“I am positive.” The statement came out hard, as if she were driving home the final lines of a long declamation.
Luna’s voice broke the silence of Celestia’s golden Conference Room. Shining had left to take a patrol into the city, leaving Cadance behind with the royal sisters. The other two alicorns looked at the Princess of the night then back to each other.
“As am I. We were perhaps unwise to forget about him. It had simply been so long that I assumed he would never return. The last time that he came to Equestria was a hundred years after you left, Luna.”
Cadance was silent, not old enough to have seen the being in question herself. Instead, she stood beside Luna and tried to comfort the now distraught mare.
“We—I still remember it all. How does one forget such a creature as Nyarlotep? Before I… left, his coming bathed the land in blood. It made me wish for Discord, for he was only a trickster and a knave. The Crawling Chaos is something beyond us.”
“Perhaps,” Celestia said shortly, unwilling to agree. Instead, she thought of Twilight. “We were only two against him then, as well.”
“And we were strong,” muttered Luna glumly. “We were younger, too. In better shape. The land was strong and still knew hardship…”
“Luna,” Celestia said in a soft rebuke. The younger princess looked up, surprised at the steel in Celestia’s voice.
Celestia continued, “We also had no idea what he was like when first he came to us. Now we have knowledge. My monster-slaying days are long passed, yes, but my magic has not truly atrophied. You forget the Elements, as well—worn by brave ponies.”
Luna’s countenance did not improve. She nodded, but belief did not touch her eyes. “Yes. Perhaps we are not that much worse off than we were when he came to avenge his spawn the first time. But that fight… I have nightmares more then a millennia later. I still see him, Lord Nyarlotep of the Thousand Faces, the essence of chaos itself with ten thousand eyes and legs… crawling up the road to Canterlot with such sounds… how space bent around him…” Luna’s voice was hollow, and Cadance shivered, moving away from her slightly. “I’m so afraid. He will find us. My night is no longer my own. I share it with one who would scatter the stars, sister.”
Celestia, reined her anger in. Luna had not had a thousand years to school herself in outward calm, and she could hardly expect it now. Instead, she turned and paced while Luna was despondent, and Cadance sat frozen and frightened.
She had been so proud of Twilight and her friends in the aftermath of Discord’s return. There’d been no thoughts in her mind until long afterwards about what had happened last time that Discord had been defeated—how, only a short time later, the vast and far more terrible creature that had spawned him had come. The Elder God had heard a call for something in the dark and cold spaces beyond her sun and had wandered until, with great violence and loss of life, he had landed in the heart of Equestria.
He was a shapeshifter, taking a myriad of forms with ease and speed. When at last he’d retreated from Canterlot, wounded, he’d been almost impossible to find again. Their hunt had taxed Celestia’s enormous patience. Every day he wore a new face and spoke with a new voice, spreading madness. She’d known him by his work as soon as the reports of mysterious murders had filtered into her office.
But what was he doing? He reveled in chaos and death, and he had always loved to find the cracks in the kingdom and in lives and drive wedges into them. The breaking apart of minds and hearts was almost as delightful in his dark gaze as was the suffering of the small. He had bathed the Zebrahara in blood and left it lost in war, driven nobles mad, and led them to eating their own heirs. Gleefully, with strange and eldritch joy he had danced a merry blood-waltz all the way to Jannah, in the west. Celestia did not want to think about that city and what he had almost done before the Sepia Gate.
Instead, Celestia thought of Twilight, and in the back of her mind, a nascent realization was desperately fighting its way into the foreground.
“Cadance,” she said, startling all three sisters as the sound shattered the heavy air like a hoof through glass, “come here a moment. I’d like to ask you about the members of Twilight’s wedding party. One in particular.”
All the way home, Fluttershy’s chest had felt heavy. Knowing something of disease from her work with animals, she’d felt her forehead and noticed no fever. This had disappointed her—it would’ve been an excellent excuse to avoid Twilight’s bachelorette nonsense and the events of the next day.
The heaviness came with sluggish thought. Fluttershy felt like she’d only just woken up, though it had been hours since breakfast. Her legs felt weak, but somehow she managed not to stumble.
Maybe I’m just dehydrated. That must be it. I’ll excuse myself and sleep, just for good measure. And that way not have to see Twilight happy down below. All would be well. She would survive this.
The closer she got to the house, the heavier the invisible weight felt, and the darker her mood became. Today had been easier—Big Mac was trying his best not to see Twilight the night before the wedding—but the proximity of their joining still hurt her. She imagined that strange weight in her chest was her heart trying to express how hard it was to accept the inevitable.
The inevitable. As the four of them left the market, her thoughts had begun turning around the thought of the inevitable like a wheel.
What was she going to do? Fluttershy wasn’t a foal; she knew what the others were thinking about her. She knew what she was acting like. Even when she didn’t regret it, Fluttershy knew exactly what her stony silences and her longing looks were doing to the others. She sighed.
Is it really Big Mac I’m pining for? He did tell me no. Twilight doesn’t know he actually did, no, but she did talk to me about it before she dated him.
She shook her head. No! That’s... that’s wrong. Big Macintosh is everything to me.
It had been a confusing time. She had finally “made her move” so long ago, and Big Mac had looked at her with those eyes full of pity, and something in her snapped and stayed broken. He’d been so kind about it. Less than a month later, Twilight was wanting to talk to her, and the conversation hovered around the stallion who’d rejected her. Fluttershy hadn’t known what to say. At the mention of his name, she’d felt like running. But she stayed and had of course given Twilight the wrong impression.
And then Twilight had confessed her interest, and Fluttershy had sat there and rubber-stamped it, unwilling to speak the truth.
But what would you have said, Fluttershy? That you still loved him? She wanted to respond with a resounding "yes,” but something held her back. Maybe you did, but you definitely didn’t feel quite the same way after that. It wasn’t like you had a chance. You knew it. Nopony who lets you down with the kind of pitying gentleness is going to give you a chance.
A chance at what, anyhow? She’d been so wrapped up in sulking and contemplating her own wounds that she’d almost forgotten the time when she’d confessed her love. What was this she had now? Regret? If it was love then it came in a different guise than it had before. She thought more of them together than she thought of him alone. When she thought of only him, it was different. Where before her dreams had been full of his kind voice and long walks in the orchards, he was now unreachable and silent. In her dreams, Macintosh was beautiful, on top of a mountain. She tried to fly up to him, somehow feeling that this was it—that if she could just make it, he would deem her a worthy mate. So she would try and try.
But Fluttershy had never been as good a flier as her peers. Her wings would carry her halfway on sheer will power, then they would begin to slow and cramp. She’d pull at the air with them, flounder, fall. Sometimes, she’d have to build a house to prove the strength of her love for this stallion, who’d once been a comfort and now stood as a mute colossus. In his great shadow she would struggle, cobbling together a flimsy frame. Twilight was always beside her, her magic holding the plans up with ease as tools and materials spun in a creative whirlwind of magic and careful planning. It was never a real contest. Twilight won every time.
When Twilight won she was so happy. There wasn’t any malice in that smile. She would turn to Fluttershy, and Fluttershy would look over. Always, Twilight jumped for joy. She shouted. Sometimes Fluttershy swore that she sang. Every single time, her smile was so blissfully happy. It was complete, just like the mansion that she would stand before as Macintosh chose her with a kiss. And then she would wave to Fluttershy in oblivion, as if to say, come in and dine with me and my love. Are we not friends?
Fluttershy wasn’t sure what she knew or felt anymore. Twilight was her friend. She’d told Twilight to do this, more or less. Hadn’t she smiled and said that she wished Twilight the best? But it had been a lie. Fluttershy had opened up her mouth and spoken false.
And now it was too late.
Too late for what? She’s always been better than you. Intelligent, beautiful, cheerful, open to others and the world. You hid behind a curtain of hair, and he passed you by.
It was midday, but it felt like nighttime.
As she warred with herself, the party found its way back to the street where Twilight lived. Fluttershy wondered if the unicorn would be back from whatever it was she and Rarity had been doing. Part of her hoped not, but another part began to hope that she would be.
It’ll be a while before they let Pinkie loose to start the partying for Twilight’s bachelorette party. I’d like for us to talk. Not about Mac… it’s too late for that, and I don’t want to think about the three of us. But I can’t just lose Twilight, because that means losing all of my closest friends. Twilight is still my friend, after all. Perhaps having a nice, friendly talk will remind me of that.
She looked down at her chest, noting that the weight had become serious now. Breathing was difficult, and it scared her.
I might want to ask her about this too. Twilight’s my friend; she’ll help me out. She’s always willing to help.
Why was it so hard to believe that?
She walked through Twilight’s door in a haze, sweat pouring down her brow. It took all of her effort just to keep her breathing in check so that the others wouldn’t notice. Suddenly, she felt that it was very important that they not notice. The thought of them noticing made the weight on her chest grow. Was she ashamed of further signs of weakness? Her mind reached for flimsy rationalizations.
She had to find Twilight. It felt suddenly important. Twilight was her friend, still. Yes, same question and same answer, slower than the time before like always. She felt so tired, as if something was sapping her strength. But Twilight could help. With every beat of her heart, the weight grew and grew, and the thought of Twilight loomed larger and larger in her mind.
“I’ll go put this stuff up. Heya, Twilight!” Applejack called out as Twilight came down the stairs with Rarity.
Twilight Twilight Twilight Twilight Twilight. Fluttershy’s mind was blank. She had no room for anything but her goal. There was a slinking, crawling fear somewhere but it was pushed down by need that she could not describe.
“Oh, good. I was starting to miss you girls!”
She had to talk to Twilight. Had to find Twilight. It had already become a mantra in her mind, crowding out everything else as her hooves began to feel numb and her pace became sluggish. The weight seemed almost like a tangible object now, hanging from her neck like a necklace, and in that delirium, she imagined that it was pulsing in time with her own heart.
Was it delusion? She didn’t know. As she opened her mouth to greet Twilight, the weight blossomed into pain beyond description.
Twilight stood before her, framed on either side by Rainbow and Rarity. All three stared in absolute horror. Pinkie, who’d bounced before them, was shouting something that Fluttershy couldn’t hear. Twilight opened her mouth to no avail, and in her eyes Fluttershy saw it.
In a flash she remembered it all: the strange pony in the market, the amulet, his strange eyes and the weird sense of calm. She looked down in horror.
The amulet had become something else entirely. From it had been born something she could only describe as a tear, a pit in the middle of the air made of night and shadow. Around her, a wind howled and pulled at her mane. She tried to scream for help, but nothing would come. The thing below her stole her breath.
The wind tore at the carpet and the furniture. A picture frame flew past her face, ripping the skin right below her eye. Fluttershy lost her balance, and as she fell, it was as if the hole swallowed her up. It’s so cold. It’s so cold. Where are the stars? I can’t feel my hooves? Where am I? Where is Twilight? Big Macintosh? Rainbow Dash? Rainbow, please! Somepony! It’s cold—
Everything was dark, but light from wall lamps illuminated enough of the floor to tell her that the others weren’t close by. Twilight stood in a corridor, smooth and featureless stone for both floor and wall. No time for confusion quite yet, Twilight. We’ll ask ourselves where we are later.
“Fluttershy? Rarity? Pinkie?”
No answers. She frowned into the darkness, and decided to illuminate her surroundings—perhaps there would a door somewhere, or some sort of sign as to her whereabouts. She summoned light.
Before her, the light revealed a corridor stretching onwards. The walls were featureless and unnaturally smooth. Somehow, it seemed as if the floor and the walls were not quite level, but she chalked it up to nerves to avoid thinking about it.
Behind her was nothing. She sent her little ball of light towards it and like a sheet, the darkness rippled but did not retreat. The illumination was simply wasted.
Twilight backed up, sweat trickling down her forehead. “Rainbow? Rarity? Applejack?”
There was still no answer and Twilight began to retreat from the solid darkness behind. Something warned her not to run yet, not to back away like the void before her was some sort of animal waiting to give chase.
Twilight bit her lip, and swallowed. Don’t excite it. Whatever you do, don’t excite it.
“Fluttershy?” Somepony had to be here with her. Fluttershy had fallen in first, after all.
She began to notice that her voice echoed in strange ways. She heard her voice, and then she heard her voice. As if there were a whole crowd of Twilights whispering in the solid dark. It had to be nerves, it simply had to be.
“Fluttershy brought this with her. This is the dream.”
“Big Mac? Macintosh, where are you?”
She couldn’t keep staring into the void. She turned and set off at a brisk trot, and around her she heard voices whisper. Some of them were her own, calling for her friends and her teacher. She heard Macintosh’s voice calling for her, asking her to come back. She heard him out there, somewhere, and it took all of her will to keep from calling out. To keep from running. It was an illusion. A trick.
Nothing around her changed. The walls and the floor were all the same. The ceiling above was shrouded in complete darkness. The voices were getting louder and louder, and now they almost seemed real.
“Princess, ya gotta let me come. I need her. I gotta go through.” That was Big Mac. He sounded like he was right in front of her.
All around her, she felt something. It was like the air wasn’t air at all. Like it was a heavy blanket, wet and cold and all it wanted was to fall upon her so she would be still and so she wouldn’t run when the dark came.
“Yes, I could use an extra pair of eyes. Are you ready? Good, then we’ll go.” Celestia.
She heard a roaring wind, but did not feel it pulling at her like it had before. Celestia and Big Mac were shouting over it as she stumbled ever faster.
“Macintosh, do you see her? We’re high up here, I know. I can’t get any higher!”
“No, yer highness, nothin’. I can hardly see at all!”
They were coming! Her beloved was coming! She could almost feel his warm, safe hooves around her as he wrapped her up in one of his best hugs. She could almost smell him. Her coat felt electric. The walls around her seemed to swim, and the gale somewhere in the darkness intensified.
Stars. Twilight, you have to get ahold of yourself. This is so obviously a trick of... of something! Where is this place? Where am I?
“Macintosh? Macintosh! I think… I need to get closer. Can you stand it?”
Yes! He had to; Twilight needed him. It would all be like a bad dream that he’d kiss away, or a quick walk in the winter dark. He’d chase away the chill in her bones.
“I… It’s Twilight, so I’m game. But it’s so cold.”
Divided. In her mind Twilight was screaming, It’s not real! It’s so obviously not real! It doesn’t sound like Mac at all! It’s not how he would talk. It’s a trap! It’s a game! But her hooves were moving on. Mind and body had parted ways. She felt like the corridor was small, like she barely fit and it was squeezing in on her as she picked up speed.
“It’s so cold, Princess.”
She was in a dead sprint now, and she knew that she was going mad in this long hall. “Macintosh!” She was bawling now. How could he be cold? He was always warm. Somehow it drove her mad, the strange twist in his voice. Stars,it sounds so real though! So real. Just like him.
“Too fast! Macintosh, Macintosh! Luna, pull me up! Luna, He knows! He’s in here, he’s left Canterlot, he’s here! Pull—“
“Cold...” Macintosh’s low, rumbling voice whimpered in the dark somewhere above her head.
She screamed and tripped. The stone that had once seemed so smooth now seemed like sandpaper; she could feel it tearing at her as she slid. Twilight picked herself back up. It was all fake. It had to be. There was no way she’d hear them, if the Princess and her fiance had truly tried to rescue her. It had to be some sort of sick enchantment.
Macintosh murmured but she tried not to listen. It felt like she ran for hours.
She came into the large room without even realizing it.
It stopped her up short with its inexplicable differentness. In the mindless race she’d been running, she’d almost forgotten that there was a world beyond the hall that seemed to change with every passing moment. She shivered, then looked back at the chasing darkness.
It stood still, blocking off the way she’d come from. She had a feeling it would stay there until she left this room, so Twilight let herself sit and breathe. Wearily, the unicorn turned her head and examined her surroundings.
The room seemed to be a crossroads or nexus. Other halls branched off in almost all directions. Some of the halls were blocked off by the same solid darkness she’d been fleeing from, while others were free of the sinister force. Still others had doors that she could see on either side. The halls with doors scared her the most, as they had a sinister look to them. They were rotting and dilapidated wood portals into places she had no desire to enter. Something about them just repulsed her.
The low rumbling voices never left, but they were softer now. Out of them, two new voices began to differentiate themselves. She groaned softly as two more shades came to torment her with illusions.
“I’m telling you, if I can just get a little higher—“The first illusion took on the high-pitched, cracking voice of Rainbow Dash.
“No. Please, Rainbow, dear… no, please. I’m serious. If nothing else, humor me. That darkness isn’t natural. If it’s the same as that awful… stuff behind us…”The second sounded an awful lot like Rarity. Exactly like Rarity when she’s genuinely worried and not just complaining.
“It doesn’t move like that stuff. Rares, this is killin’ me. You have to let me get my hooves off the ground. C’mon! Please, don’t make me beg. I’ll just be a second. Just stretch my wings. Just a quick little circle. Celestia, Rarity, I’m fast and you know it! Let go of my leash!”
The illusion with Rarity’s voice spoke again. “Rainbow, please. I know you don’t believe me, but do this for me. Please?” The voice drew the last syllable out to an almost insufferable length.
Her disbelief evaporated at Rarity’s articulated frustration. Nopony could hope to approximate her friend that well. With hope, she called out to them.
“Girls?”
“Twilight? Is that really you? Oh, marvelous! We’re coming!” Rarity answered from down the hallway, and Twilight realized that she could see them the distance. Still, something held her back—with the wrongness of this place, she would wait until they were here beside her before she celebrated.
They raced towards her. To Twilight’s horror, the void followed them from a distance. Seeing it actually move at full speed was awful beyond words. It seemed to almost slither. We’re being herded towards something.
The first thing Twilight did was capture them both in a tight embrace. Rarity, who seemed to be on the verge of tears, accepted it. Rainbow, however, wriggled free after a moment to get some space. Both of them smiled at her, glad to be reunited.
“Twilight, have you seen Fluttershy yet?” Rarity asked when they had separated.
“Not yet. I’ve been calling for her as much as I’ve been calling for you two, and she hasn’t answered.”
Rainbow cut in. “If I could just fly up for a second, I could—“
Rarity rounded on her, startling both of her companions.
“As you love me, Rainbow Dash, you will shut your foolish, Celestiadamned mouth and keep all four of your damn hooves on the Goddess-forsaken ground!” Each word was snarled, Rarity’s polite and cultured voice twisted into pure venom.
Twilight backed away almost without thought. Rainbow, however, stood her ground with hard eyes and a stubborn air.
Rarity’s unbridled fury subsided after a moment. The steel in her spine buckled, and she said in a softer voice, “Rainbow… I’m sorry I snapped at you, it was unbecoming. This place has me on edge, you know that, right? Please, please trust me. If only for a little while longer.”
Rainbow sniffed. “It’s cool,” she said shortly. The angry air remained, but she looked away, towards the darkness above them. Twilight began to agree with her that it was indeed true sky.
They were all quiet for a moment. Twilight was off to the side, feeling awkward and out of place. She looked around her and then back to her friends, unsure what words might help, if any. Rarity, took a step forward and tentatively nuzzled under her marefriend’s chin. Rainbow’s attention broke, and she accepted the affection. Her demeanor changed almost instantly, as she looked away from the abyss above their heads. Rarity had eyes only for Rainbow at that moment, as she tried to heal the wound and perhaps to convince Rainbow some other way, Twilight thought.
It all made her heart ache. Twilight missed her fiancé. Was Macintosh coming for her? Was he out there, where the sun could still speak and see, ready to cross through some portal? She could see him rushing through a portal that she knew in her heart Celestia would create, with flashing eyes and strong hooves to beat away whatever might be out there waiting. But she soon remembered the illusory whisperings from her hall and shied away from thoughts of Macintosh coming to her. Instead, watching her friends’ quiet affection, she again missed Macintosh’s embrace, warm and safe.
She just wanted to go home.
Flank to flank, Rainbow and Rarity turned towards her. Rarity seemed a little sheepish, and Rainbow gave her a halfhearted, lopsided grin.
“We don’t mean to leave you in the cold over there, Twilight.” Rarity spoke for them both. “You must be positively at wit’s end.”
Rainbow tried to chuckle, but it came out weak as a newborn foal. “Yeah, c’mon over, Twi. No filly-foolin’. I promise.”
Twilight forced a chuckle as well, and scooted closer.
Three friends huddled together in the cold, at the center of a featureless room. They said nothing, and the only movement was the occasional nuzzling and quiet fussing of Rarity over Rainbow. It was what she did, what she’d always done. Usually, it seemed silly to Twilight. In these surroundings, it was a blessed bit of normalcy.
And it did help, a little. The aches in her hooves and heart lost their edge. I’m coming home, Macintosh. And after this, I’m never going more than five feet away from you.
That was when the whispers began again. All three ponies stiffened, and Twilight spoke without thinking.
“You hear it too?” The others looked at her wordlessly, and she continued. “I, mean, like, you hear individual voices or—“
She stopped midsentence as Rainbow began to shiver and stare at the sky, eyes wide as if in a trance. The voices grew louder and louder, and Twilight knew they’d been still too long. They had retreated before companionship but complacency had brought them back in force. Rainbow began to speak, her voice shaking with animal fear.
“Won’t fly again, won’t fly again… What if they’re right? Rares, you gotta let me go! What if they’re right? I gotta know!”
The whispering transformed into laughter—discordant and sinister. Rainbow, struggling against Rarity’s hooves and magic, screamed against the void and the mocking. “I’ll fly! You can’t stop me from flying, you fuckers! Just you watch me! Shut up! Don’t you dare laugh, don’t you even dare!”
The laughter only intensified. Twilight tried to help, not even sure if Rarity’s fears were warranted. All she knew was that Rainbow was out of control, for now she could feel the voices gnaw at her own mind.
She was lost. Twilight knew it as soon as Rarity cried out. A kick meant to dislodge Rarity connected with Twilight and sent her backwards. In another moment, Rarity’s panic-driven strength failed her and she was thrown to the ground. Rainbow’s wings flared open.
“Look! I’ll fly! That’ll show you. That’ll finally shut you up!” With a great push, she was airborne. Twilight could only watch in mute awe as, for a split second, she seemed suspended in mid-air with her powerful wings out to their fullest and her hooves reaching ahead. Then, the laughing shifted to howling and bawling as Rainbow twisted in an unnatural fashion and fell back to earth with a sickening crunch.
Rarity screamed as the laughter and howling died away. The screams continued as she stumbled over to Dash’s still form. There were no words. She shook the pegasus, trying to speak but unable to. Twilight was right behind her.
Iron spikes had torn her wings to shreds, with a few stuck in her abdomen. Twilight noted grimly that the bleeding from these last few wounds was beyond her limited knowledge. Rainbow groaned, as if she was just coming around.
“Twilight!” Rarity was bawling. “Rainbow!”
Now was not the time to mention that she knew next to nothing about medicine or healing magic. She guessed that the barbed spikes would need to be removed. She summoned her magic, and warned Rarity to scoot back. She tugged.
It came out and Rainbow screamed. Twilight was so startled by this that she dropped the spike on the rock floor. Blood poured from the new wound and Rarity tried her best to staunch the flow with her hooves.
“My wings, my wings!” Rainbow repeated in horrified stupor.
Rarity rounded on Twilight. “Hurry up!”
She tried. The second one was easier, and the third came out quickly with the dexterity of her magic.
Rainbow hadn’t let up, and Rarity snapped at her. She left off of applying pressure to Rainbow’s gushing wounds suddenly and Twilight did her best to keep the bleeding under control.
“My wings! My wings! Rarity, oh Celestia, I’m so cold! My wings!”
Rarity shook her, voice tinged with madness. “How dare you! You never listen! You just do whatever you want, fly wherever you want! I always give you room, don’t I? You look at me! Don’t you dare close your eyes, Rainbow Dash!”
Rainbow looked up, terrified and uncomprehending. Tears streamed from both of her eyes. She tried to speak, but Rarity wouldn’t let her. Twilight tried to pull the unicorn back, but Rarity shoved her off.
“Rares? Rares, I’m cold.”
“No, you listen to me, Rainbow! I always give you room, don’t I? You and your loyalty still never listen! Don’t you even dare think about dying on me, darling, understand? Twilight.” She was in Twilight’s face in a heartbeat.
“I… I don’t know what I can do for her,” Twilight admitted, frightened of the seething unicorn. Rarity was a fearsome sight, her off white coat stained with blood. “Our best bet is to put her in stasis, I think. I do know how to do that. We’ll have to carry her, but she’ll be alright for a little while. I think… I know the Princess is coming for us, and if we can hold out a bit longer we can get Dash out.”
“Do it. What do you need from me?” Rarity said, the anger gone. Twilight wasn’t sure what was in her voice now.
“Just… step away a moment. I’ll need you to help carry her, but you need to leave her alone for a moment.”
Rarity fell back and sobbed.
Twilight stood beside her fallen friend and began. As the spell froze her lower extremeties, Rainbow managed to speak.
“…I’m sorry.”
Rainbow closed her eyes, and sleep found her as Twilight finished her work. With a groan, Twilight sat down and panted. It was exhausting work, and she’d definitely rushed it, but she’d had no choice. Rainbow’s blood loss would have gotten out of control.
Rarity returned to her side, shaking. Tears ran down her cheeks and mixed with the specks of blood. She attempted to wipe them away, but her hooves were filthy and just made things worse. She whimpered.
“Rainbow…” she said, sounding for all the world like a lost foal.
Twilight took a deep breath, and lifted the pegasus with her magic. “Rarity, I could use some help moving her.”
“Oh, o-of course, Twilight.”
Together, the two unicorns carried their friend between them. Twilight picked from one of the open halls and they headed down it. Whichever way. The Princess can find us wherever, but we can’t stay still.
The air of imminent danger had returned and, without looking back, Twilight knew that the creeping darkness was following them. They started out at a trot, nervous but unwilling to run with Rainbow so precarious in the air on nothing but magic.
Rarity sniffled. Twilight would’ve said something under normal circumstances, but her nerves were fried. She had nothing.
“Twilight, what if that’s the last thing she ever hears me say?” she asked. “I’ll have not even said goodbye to her. I was just… I heard the voices say that she wasn’t going to survive… that she was going to die… that if she flew—“
“Rarity, she’s not dying any time soon. Stop,” Twilight managed, and Rarity did so.
Twilight continued, “Look, Rarity—the voices… I heard Celestia and Big Macintosh die and it was a lie! They aren’t telling the future. Whatever brought us here is just… messing with us.”
“Why are we here? Where is this place, anyway? All I remember is that horrid thing on Fluttershy’s chest.”
“I’m not sure where… but I think I might know who.” She explained the little that she’d learned from Shining. She had no name, but she had the knowledge that something beyond her knowledge was in the city. Something with an axe to grind with the Princess of the Sun. It made sense. Well, no. Not really, but it’s all I have. It fits too well. Some sort of evil magic user just happens to be murdering ponies in ritualistic ways right as the Elements of Harmony are attacked? Those signs weren’t a calling card. They were a ritual or a display of power or... or something.
“So we’re pawns,” Rarity said, and Twilight wasn’t sure if it was anger or defeat in her voice. “We’re rats in a maze.”
Rarity’s tears still fell, but she’d mostly gained control of herself. Her gaze never left Rainbow’s sleeping, peaceful face—not even for a moment. She spoke softly. Mournfully.
“Twilight… how long will she be okay like this? How much time do we have?”
Do I look like I know? I’m not a nurse! That was what she wanted to say, but she didn’t. Instead, she tried to soothe the fashionista’s worries. “Hours. Maybe two at most. I’m positive that’ll be enough time for rescue. There’s no way the Princess would abandon three Element holders!” Or that Big Mac would leave me here. He has to be trying to get here, magic or no. He’s probably by the Princess’s side right now.
Rarity didn’t comment on how likely this was, which was probably for the best. Neither of them looked very hopeful.
The whispering was light, but never let them alone. Twilight had begun to tune it out entirely when it erupted into shrill screaming. Their magic faltered, and they almost dropped Rainbow. Whimpering, Twilight motioned for Rarity to let the pegasus down gently and placed hooves over her ears.
Before them in the air, a faint light appeared. As it grew in strength, the screams intensified, then began to fade away. Rarity and Twilight simply stared at it.
When it became blinding, they heard a voice come from inside of it.
“Twi? Twi? Are you in there?”
Big Macintosh.
Her voice came out as a sob. “Yes! Love, yes! I’m right here!”
Celestia spoke from inside the blinding light. “Twilight. I’ve only now figured this out. We don’t have much time. I think I can maintain it just a bit longer. Hurry through.”
A portal, just as she’d longed for. “Princess, Rainbow is badly hurt, and I have her in a stasis spell. I’m… I’m not sure how long it’ll last. She’ll need to come through. Can you maintain the spell through the portal so it doesn’t give out when I’m not there? I’ve been keeping it going through force of will.”
“…Yes. But it will weaken the portal. I’m not sure all of you can come through this time. I’ll open another one,” she finished hurriedly. “Regardless, those who are coming—come!”
Twilight looked at Rarity, who stared back with unbelieving eyes.
“Go. Tell Big Mac I love him, alright?”
“Twilight… you talk as if—“ Twilight cut her off.
“Don’t let those be your last words. I’ll be fine. She needs you. Go.”
Rarity walked over to her, wrapped Twilight in a fierce hug, and caught up Rainbow with her magic. Twilight helped, and together they glided the pegasus towards the open door in the fabric of reality. Gently, they pushed her through and Twilight marveled as she seemed to become a silhouette in the unyielding light and then vanished all together.
Rarity turned to her, hesitating before she entered herself. “Twilight… you have to find her. Fluttershy, I mean. She’s…”
“I will.”
Rarity choked back more words and fled through the portal.
Celestia spoke as the light dimmed. “I’m sorry… this door is about to close. I can open another one, but it will be some time. Is Fluttershy there?” She could hear the Princess speaking to someone else, but it was too faint to make out words. Twilight sighed, glad that Rainbow would be getting a doctor.
“I need to find her.”
Celestia was quiet for a moment.
“Go. Be careful, my faithful student.”
And with that the light contracted in on itself like a dying star and vanished.
The native night of wherever this place was reasserted itself with a vengeance. Twilight blinked, the portal’s light still dying on her retinas. She rubbed her eyes, and started forward.
Ambling forward in the dark, Twilight lost all sense of time. She missed Rarity and Rainbow. To be so close to the light, then have it yanked away again left her numb—to be so close to returning to Macintosh!
Briefly, she considered just… leaving Fluttershy. When Celestia came back, she could just say that the maze ended in a dead end, or that Fluttershy was nowhere to be found. It wouldn’t be so hard to give up… to phrase things just the right way to convince her teacher that the quest was futile.
No! She shook the thought from her mind. She couldn’t leave a friend behind, not even to escape a place like this. Shame filled her—would she have even thought of abandoning one of the others? Oh, Fluttershy…
The hall never seemed to end, and the darkness never seemed to tire behind her. It watched. It was patient.
Before her, lamps came on. They cast their dim light on the ground and illuminated her straight path. Once again she was assailed by the notion that she was being herded. She had visions of Applejack, turning the cow herds to where she wanted them to go, and recognized this for what it was: a trap. She had no choice. She picked up her pace until she was running recklessly.
Ahead, the lights stopped as if the hall itself had ended. The clearing at the end of the path. Oh, Fluttershy, where are you? Stars, I don’t want to be alone. Where are you?
And then, as she barreled through the long causeway, the final light blinked into existence. It was high and bright, and Twilight could now see that the path ended at a sheer cliff face. The fox faces the hounds. She wanted to sob but had no breath.
In the illumination of the last light, she could see this great cliff above her in surprising detail. There was a lift up it, she saw now—a primitive thing of wood and rope, but it would serve her needs. The crest of the heights looked like a strange throne, for spiraling columns adorned it like the arm rests of some god’s seat. Judgment seat, one could call it. In her haste and panic, Twilight thought that she saw a figure looking down, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.
This whispers changed. No longer did they whisper chaotically against one another. Now they came from the blackness behind her as a choir chanting together soft and steady. She could make out no words that she knew.
Whatever it led to was the end of this dreadful game, some last horror—some last breaking.
Fluttershy, I’m sorry.
She’d tried. Fluttershy was lost, Twilight was lost, Rainbow Dash was perhaps lost. The voices grew louder. She shuddered.
“Ai, Discordia! The debt decided! Aii-ii Discordia, the looking glass shattered!”
Twilight arrived at the cliff face and boarded the boxlike lift. It was far more rickety than she’d hoped for, but she had no choice. She sought for the winch to begin hoisting herself up and with her magic she began the climb.
The cries continued.
“Discordia!”
“Ngaxt, Eloi eloi ftaga Nyarlothep cth!”
They were maddening, and she felt her hold on reality slipping. As she got higher, Twilight could see out beyond her hallway. Around her stretched a great and endless plain of similar hallways, contorted and at odd angles to each other. Everywhere wrongness—darkness that moved.
Nyarlotep.
Somehow, in the depths of her heart—the darkest parts where she cowered from fears imagined and real—she knew that this was the name of the master of this place. Nyarlotep was the name of this place’s master, and this was the courtyard in the great House of Nyarlotep. She had walked in the halls of the gods of madness, who she had heard rumor of only in the oldest books of eldritch lore that she’d laughed at. It came back to her. Celestia, and her brother, and the murders in Canterlot.
And at last, with nowhere to go but up, it all made sense.
She didn’t stand chance. Not with the Hunter of the Stars against her. The names for the Crawling Chaos she’d found scrawled in books came back to her.
“The handmaiden! Let her come to the handmaiden of our lord!” the voices cried.
“Oh, Princess,” she breathed miserably. She was so close to the end. Twenty five feet. Twenty. Maybe fifty.
The lift stopped with a jerk, as if something had been jammed in the pulleys. Twilight looked up and realized that she’d overestimated the strength of the cables. Before she could strengthen them with magic, one snapped. The back right corner fell and she fell into it, hitting the rail hard and praying breathless prayers of thanks that it stayed up. She could see the darkness, the watchdog of Nyarlothep, pooling below her. Macintosh and Celestia and the sun seemed so far away. Equestria was eons ago. In the halls of Nyarlotep’s domain, the sun was silent.
“Twilight.”
She stiffened and looked up. Fluttershy was standing at the edge of the cliff, looking down at her with wide eyes.
Twilight had an instant of painful clarity as the voices ceased beneath her.
It was an unspoken and shared revelation. Twilight’s life was in Fluttershy’s hooves, and she knew what was on the pegasus’ mind. Twilight, who had sinned, and Fluttershy, who had been sinned against. Twilight, who had won, and Fluttershy, who had lost. Twilight, who had asked, and Fluttershy, who had given permission.
Part of Twilight wanted to plead, to say that they were friends for Celestia’s sake. But cold reality subdued her hope: Friendship in this place rang hollow, it must. She could say nothing in her own defense. Wrong or right as she had been in the sun, the sun was gone. This was what they were in the dark: the avenger and the cornered. The sun was blind, and friends and loved ones could not see what happened here.
“I loved him, you know.”
Twilight knew she was going to die. Her vision swam with tears. They both knew that Fluttershy would speak and delay before she made her choice. Twilight had no doubt what it would be. Fluttershy, how could I hope to make things right? We were all so foolish. I don’t want to die! Please!
“I just thought you should know. That you should know there’s this hole in me, Twilight. Whether I told you to go ahead and confess your love to him or not.
“Would it bother you? Would you have thought about it, up there in the sun?” Her voice was soft, but it had steel in it. She’d waited a long time to speak.
Twilight had no words. They would only make Fluttershy angry. She had no doubts that the pegasus would make her choice if Twilight spoke even the tiniest word.
“Would you have remembered me, and felt sorry? Would you have thought of me at all?” With every question, she gained volume, and Twilight’s tears fell faster.
“We’re finally face to face! No Rarity to coddle you and tell you it’s alright. No Rainbow Dash to lull me with talk of your loyalty and mine, or lie to me that love passes with no wounds. I would want you to remember me, in the world of light, if we were there. When he kissed you, I would want you to remember that I longed for that sweet kiss. When you enjoyed his hugs. When you shared the embrace of love in the dark, I would want you to feel me there in jealousy and sorrow! When you felt life stir within you, would you have thought of me? Little unicorn foals and little earth pony foals and none of them little yellow pegasi! None of them would look like me! And would you even think about me when you suckled them and kissed their pain away and watched him play with them? Look me in the eye and tell me I wouldn’t be forgotten!”
Fluttershy was panting and Twilight was terrified.
“I… I…” The pegasus seemed lost. Angry and lost. “If you were I and I were you, would you let me go? The other mare? Would you let me go if I were going to share the marriage bed with him and have him?”
Twilight wanted to sob out, “Yes!” but her throat was too dry and nothing came forth.
Suddenly, there was a blinding light and a third voice.
“Twilight? Twilight, are you there? I found you again. Hurry through!” It was Celestia. Her heart leapt within her breast and then her hope died. Fluttershy would make her choice now. There would be a lever on the top, she knew so, and Fluttershy would let her fall to the Darkness below and then tell their friends that there’d been no hope.
They stared at each other with wide eyes.
“Twilight? Do you have Fluttershy? Hello? Hold on, if you’ll give me a moment I think I can get this to let me see you.”
“Twi? Sugarcube?” Big Macintosh. Twilight just knew it would push Fluttershy over the edge.
And then Twilight was wrong.
“We’re right here, Princess,” Fluttershy answered, eyes never leaving Twilight’s. Ignoring the unicorn’s disbelief, she flew down and offered her hooves. Twilight clasped to her, not sure she understood what was happening.
“Fluttershy, darling!” Rarity’s voice. “I was so afraid! Thank everything that you’re well!”
Fluttershy didn’t answer, crying instead. Twilight felt tears roll down her cheeks and felt her tense fury as she hurtled them through the shining portal on the plateau.
Everything, for a moment, was golden and blinding light. She almost cried out, afraid it would steal her sight away forever, but before she could, it was over. Fluttershy and Twilight lay on the floor of her parent’s wrecked living room in each other’s arms. Their friends and Twilight’s family surrounded them, all crying out happily.
But the two who had just escaped sobbed for their own reasons. Twilight was shocked to be alive.
Did Celestia force her hoof? What did she choose? Was she going to...?
And suddenly, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She could never know for sure. After all, would Fluttershy really admit that her plan had been to kill Twilight? And whoever was at fault, both mares were wounded. She was alive and in the land of the sun. That was all that mattered. She pulled Fluttershy close and whispered.
“Don’t tell me. I don’t care.”
“I… Twilight?”
“I love you. We’re friends. Period.”
Fluttershy was speechless.
Around them, the others had fallen silent. They knew something had happened, something grave and serious that they could not begin to guess at.
Macintosh was there, calling to her, and she suddenly realized that Fluttershy had paid her back in full. She doubted she would ever be able to live without the pegasus there beside her--carrying the knowledge of her pain into every embrace and look and kiss and rendezvous. The idea of embracing him was now both frightening and the thing she wanted most. Mixed in with the supreme pleasure and supernal comfort was a taste of bitterness. Not enough to spoil the wine of love, but enough to make her pause.
She smiled at him and he came to rest beside her. Fluttershy stared at him like a mare before her god, and then turned away in shame. Twilight didn’t release her. For Twilight, it just didn't matter.
She just wanted to be whole again, wanted them both to be. In her hooves, Fluttershy wept.
In the realm of Nyarlothep, He Who Wore Many Faces, there was a gnashing of teeth and howls of anger. The chosen Handmaid had betrayed her master! She had not killed the Sun’s beloved student! She had not done her part as the wedge in the cracks of the Elements!
But the complaints of the slithering darkness were silenced by the realm’s master. He set himself down on the outcropping at the heart of his courtyard and shed his pony disguise.
There was no need to be upset, he informed the air and the watchdog Naur who prowled his holding. No, to lose a minor skirmish against a foe like Celestia—even in her diminished state—was not a tragedy. The opening volley had not laid them low. So what? The next might, or the next. There would always be opportunity in some distant age. The Handmaid had failed, but she was a weak creature, afraid to act and do what she wished so ardently to do. The lesser, almost parasitic things that crawled on the surfaces of the planets were such contradictory creatures. He liked that about them sometimes. This time annoyed him.
