Or: With A Name Like That, He Wasn't Exactly Going To Be a Saint
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Fallout Equestria: Necromancy is Easy, Conversations are Hard.
Or: With A Name Like That, He Wasn't Exactly Going To Be a Saint
The estate I was directed too was in one of the oldest sections of Canterlot, which said something about how much I was out of my league. The two messages I was supposed to give were brief, but were rather heavy in what they implied, and I half-shivered when I thought about who I was supposed to meet. Supposedly, there was a picture of him on a dart board in the Ministry of Arcane Sciences in Twilight Sparkles office, but rumors were rumors.
I trotted half-heartedly past the scraggly lawn, trying my best to ignore the disgrace to agriculture that it was, and knocked on the ironwood door.
A few moments later, a small gray stallion, an earth pony with a yellow star on his flank, opened it and quickly directed me to a waiting room that truly fit my “clients” name. Rather bare was the room, at least compared to the typically opulent splendor that graced most of the other noble holding I had the supposed splendor of being led into, but it was cozy enough, never less. Apparently resistant to the joys of electrical lighting, the central room was quite dark, which was compounded by the dark browns and blacks that made up the color scheme.
In fact, the only light was coming from the dim fire, which was cheerfully enchanted to be a dull purple color. In fact, as it preformed its damndest to not perform the task it was intended to, it somehow made the ill placed family tree directly above it as if a morbid spotlight was placed apon it.
It was quite a bare one as it went, quite straight and with many branches vague, seemingly erased with charcoal, and only at the tip was there any names without the marking to signal death. There were three, in fact, and I, unfortunately, knew that it would need to be reduced to two by the morning.
Interrupting my thoughts, the butler came in and gestured me to stand up.
“The master is ready to have you, sir.”
Nodding slightly, I went down the bare hallway, suitcase in tow. To my modest surprise, I noticed many side-chambers down the main hall simply filled with books, many of which were thicker than my head. Surprisingly, most of them seemed to be real.
After I opened the simple door at the end with my “clients” name on it, I almost turned around; as I thought for a moment I had missed his room. The office was cluttered with dozens of nick-knacks and bookshelves, some of which, from my own personal knowledge, contained tomes not particularly approved of by the currant regime.
“Mister Night?” I said questioningly, looking over the dark, spider web-dominated room.
A shuddering breath close behind me nearly made me scream!
Turning around, I saw that the stallion I was looking for hunched over a tome near one of the bloated stacks of books, and his dark coat nearly made him invisible in the dark. I also found that my back left leg was brushing against his head, which I did not notice, as it was quite unnaturally cold.
“Oh, excuse me; I was in the middle of arranging something for a friend. All apologies for not introducing myself properly.” my host croaked., yellow eyes that bordered on green locking with mine as he raised his head and stood straight up.
“It is okay, Mr. Night.” I said after I gathered my wits and calmed myself down. “I have had worse experience in the houses of my superiors.”
My joke falling flat, the noblestallion trotted over to the central desk and, in a burst of green magic, ignited an array of candles on it. Frankly, the room was not improved by the light in the slightest. My host, however, looked even worse. Brown greasy hair clung to the sides of his head, and his coat was utterly black, not merely shiny but black in a light-consuming sense. The only thing that would make one guess that he was part of the proud bloodlines of Canterlot was his horn, which looked almost unwieldy on his head. It was closer to the size of one of the princesses themselves than a typical unicorns, and the fact it looked sharp was hardly reassuring.
“Sorry for the state of affairs, but one simply cannot keep a clean study and claim to be truly studious, can they not?” my client rasped as he brought up a chair for me to sit in and moved to the other side of the desk.
I chuckled nervously. “I am not one to ask, sir. But, as you know, I have orders to relay you several pieces of information that relates to you and your estate.”
He sighed, making a sound that could have been mistaken for a death rattle. Hard to believe that, according to his file, he was just passing thirty.
“Well, go on, then.”
I gulped. “Well, sir, there is the status of your sister, Nightingale.”
The stallion said nothing, and merely leaned into the back of his chair.
“Her unit was reported missing a few days ago on the zebra front lines, but apparently she was found dead this morning.” I said as carefully as possible to avoid causing and further distress to the stallion.
To my mild disgust, the stallion seemed utterly unconcerned by recent events, merely batting his eyes. “Ah. A pity, one could only think about how deadly the skies above Zebra lands are.”
I raised an eyebrow out of disbelief. I have heard of stuck up unicorns feeling unempathetic to the plight of other ponies, but for one to not care of his sister’s untimely demise because of the fact she was a pegusus was disgusting!
“Well, sir, there are other issues at stake, namely that of the legal status of her child.” I said as calmly as possible.
The stallion’s eyes widened. “My sister foaled and told me nothing?”
I nodded, horrified internally. I heard of estranged families, but this took the cake.
Shaking his head, he grunted. “A pity. Who took care of it during her…oh, what do they call it, active duty?”
“A friend of hers, sir.”
“I suppose I am meant to take care of it?” he leaned forward slightly, which nearly made me do the opposite.
“Yes, sir.”
He paused, and looked to the side slightly. “Is it a unicorn, Mr. Arion?”
I nodded, slightly confused for a moment about the context, but looking at his expecting face made me scowl in realization.
He breathed in deeply, somewhat pleased. “I suppose, out of wedlock…tell me, what is the color of its coat?”
I thought for a moment, tempted to take out the papers at my side and wave them wildly at the tribalist bastard in front of me.
“White, sir. The filly’s coat is white. Are you interested in her name, as well?”
He looked at me, almost with pity. “No, I truly do not. However, I know you are really not here to tell me I must care for the bastard child of my sister. No, I know why you are here. You even look like a Ministry agent, Mr. Arion.”
I bowed somewhat. “Guilty as charged, Mr. Night. I am really here to charge you with gross magical misuse, possession of contraband, suspected usage of banned magic’s, and treason against Equestria.”
He took it in better than I would have expected, and almost looked relived.
“Ah, about time. I suppose the royal guard is prepared to take me away?” he said almost jovially. “But I must admit that this is rather abrupt. Right after helping the Ministry of Peace with a perfectly legal project, I effectively get sentenced to death. Really, now, I was just preparing to send a letter to one of Sparkle’s head mares to see if I could not try to assist with one of there more esoteric projects, and then, betrayal.” he said with flourish.
I snorted. “You are in possession of objects, magical and otherwise, that were banned centuries ago. The fact you clearly have been abusing dark magic’s is obvious to the world at large, and the only reason you are alive is because Luna has better things than to deal with you and Pinkie Pie is insane.”
He shrugged lightly. “But I suppose you are not here to kill me, are you? You are here to offer me a deal.”
I winced slightly at just how blunt that was, but continued. “You would happen to be right.”
He put a hoof under his chin, and rubbed it, in thought.
“I can offer books and scrolls regarding magic’s blissfully forgotten by pony kind, and the expertise of the private collection of seventeen generations of powerful unicorn mages.”
I nodded, and opened my suitcase in a flash of magic. In moments, a simple leather-bound book was placed apon the stallion’s desk. He swore.
“My word, is that…” he looked at the grimore with a sort of reverence, yellow eyes twinkling.
In a few moments, the book was quickly placed within the suitcase.
“It is, and my own mistress would be pleased if you offered your own knowledge regarding it and other objects in her collection. She, among others, is quickly realizing that, despite how Zebra magic is all the rage in black market circles now, unicorns like myself and you have there own glorious history of screwing up magically.” I said gruffly.
He looked at me with something between shock and amusement.
“You are not from Magic, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, Moral, sir. This is the time where you simply smile and nod.”
He grinned widely, and cackled. “Wonderful! To think, I was starting to get worried when I felt another pony like myself in my domain! To think I was arrogant enough to believe I was one of the few necromancers left in Equestria!”
I shook my head, and stood, preparing to leave. “There is a meeting next month, in Fillydelphia. I suppose you would be able to make it?” I said, for appearances sake. He already looked more convicted to the cause I was introducing him too more than I was.
Nodding frightfully fast, the stallion behind the desk got up and walked over to me. Being that I was the taller one, I still needed to look down, if not carefully because of his horn. He stunk like a corpse.
“I must ask, Arion, is it acceptable to bring my newfound charge with me?” he said, almost gleefully.
I was taken aback. “I doubt that taking a young foal to a meeting discussing the use of dark magic’s would be approved, but I am not mistress Rarity. However, if you wish-“
He interrupted me with another bout of laugher. “She’s a member of the Night family, my dear boy! If she’s not trying to kill things with her mind yet, why, I would have to question just how much she is like her father!”
I was confused, and, more importantly, emotionally tangled. “Fair enough, Silent Night, but I do believe I must go, as I myself am a busy stallion. Good day.”
Before I turned to collect my things, the mad noble looked at me, almost saddened. “A pity you must leave so soon, Arion, truly a pity, but understandable. Good day to you. Star Bright will see you out.”
I turned, without looking at him further, and quickly walked out of the study and out the door without even meeting the butler, and all but dashed outside until I hit concrete.
Groaning at time, I broke out into a quick trot to the Image headquarters to alert my boss after realizing that, among other things, our newest member of the top-secret research department never once blinked or breathed in fifteen minutes of conversation.