Introns

One hoof, two hoof, three hoof, four.

Knock, knock, knock, who’s at the door?

Beak white as bone,

Bent-back crone,

Mortuary, mortuary, who would’ve known?

Five hoof, six hoof, seven hoof, eight.

If you’re picked, then it’s far too late.

Shade, to and fro,

Shout, run and go,

The Magpie, the Magpie, and now we all know.

-Old Earth Pony Nursery Rhyme; Title Unknown

***

“Fluttershy? Are you home?” With a polite knock against the door of the neatly kept hut, Twilight Sparkle called for her friend inside. Stepping away from the threshold, she exhaled slightly and looked upwards at the sky. The clouds rolled through the pristine expanse, carried by a cool breeze that whispered through the branches of the forest, making the summer morning slightly more bearable. It carried the pleasant green aroma of the plants and flowers, and for an entrancing moment, Twilight closed her eyes and let the smell waft over her. The sound of the opening door pulled her out of her reverie.

“Oh Twilight, thank goodness you’re here,” murmured Fluttershy, poking her head through the door. Her eyes were creased with concern, and her hoof trembled slightly as she pushed open the door, allowing her friend to enter. “I’m so terribly sorry for pulling you out here on such short notice. But this was really important.”

Twilight Sparkle shook her head as she trotted inside. “No problem at all, Fluttershy. I’m always one for giving you a helping hoof when you need one.” She laughed slightly to put Fluttershy at ease. “I needed the walk anyways. I’ve been stuck inside all day sorting books and helping Cheerilee select books for her new curriculum. Now then, where’s the problem patient?”

Fluttershy’s home was crawling with all sorts of mice, rats, and shrews. They darted in and out of hoof-made homes and nibbled at bowls of food. None of them, however, was the reason Twilight had made her visit. Her brow still furrowed anxiously, Fluttershy trotted past Twilight out of the foyer and into the living room. Biting her lip, she stopped in front of a re-purposed lamp, and looked from the bird perched upon it to Twilight as she placed her saddlebag on the floor. “Here he is,” she said quietly.

The vulture sat upon the lamp without moving a muscle. His gangly, fleshy neck was perfectly immobile, locking his beady eyes and yellowing beak into an unnerving stare. It was clear that he hadn’t been washed in a while; his black feathers were lackluster, and the barbs were frayed and unkempt. Even as Twilight approached him, he didn’t make a sound, nor stir a wing. He simply stared straight ahead. If it weren’t for his occasional blinking, he could’ve been stuffed for all Twilight knew.

“So what’s wrong with him, exactly?” asked Twilight, looking away from the eerie fowl. Fluttershy fiddled nervously at the stitches in the carpet.

“I… That’s the thing, Twilight. Idon’t know. He’s been like this for three days now. I can’t get him to eat or drink. He just sits there.” Fluttershy looked up at her friend with wide, cyan eyes. “He’s never been like this before. He usually goes flying in the afternoon, and always eats plenty. Normally he loves it when I clean his feathers but… it’s like cleaning a statue now.”

Twilight rubbed her chin in contemplation, then reached into her bag for her books. She pulled them out carefully, spreading them on the nearby table. A Foal’s Guide to Fowls. Voracious Vultures. Keep Calm and Carrion: Studies in Ornithology. Cracking open the first volume with her magic, the unicorn mumbled under her breath as she ran a hoof down the index.

“Let’s see… Avian malaria, bumblefoot, fowl cholera…” She looked up from her book. “Does he have a fever? Coughing, losing feathers, wheezing breath?”

Fluttershy shook her head. “If it was something like that, I would have fixed him right up already. But I’ve tried everything. It’s like he’s just… sitting there.” After a pause, she added with a murmur, “Like he’s waiting for something.”

Twilight peered over the top of her book, giving her friend a quizzical stare. She clapped the book shut. “Well there’s nothing in here about avian paralysis. Maybe this next one.”

Leafing through the pages of Voracious Vultures, Twilight had to admit to herself that while Fluttershy’s bizarre theories were unlikely, the vulture was starting to get to her. Its eyes were dark enough to make its pupils invisible, turning its eyes into glistening marbles. It was as if it was staring at everything and nothing all at once. That black, soulless stare was putting her fur on end. Not to mention it was making it hard to focus on the words in front of her.

Suddenly, the breeze outside picked up, sending a gust through the house. Billowing into the house, the curtains ballooned in the wind, and the pages of Twilight’s book flipped furiously. Snorting in frustration, Twilight let her book fall to the ground and stood. Fluttershy jumped slightly at the brusque movement.

“Mind if I close the window?” she asked tersely. Fluttershy nodded meekly, looking to the vulture, who hadn’t seemed to even notice the sudden gust. Grumbling under her breath, Twilight pushed aside the billowing curtains and grabbed the edge of the window.

The vulture screamed.

Its wings threw open wide, spreading the seedy black feathers in a grim storm of tar-like rain. Fluttershy shot backwards as the vulture pumped itself into the air. Its bottomless black eyes flared and sparked. Shrieking again, its demented cry writhing from its twisting gullet, it shot towards the window. Twilight didn’t have time to say a word. Crying out as talons clawed at her neck and mane, she covered her eyes. Her ears throbbed as the vulture’s wings beat at the air, and there was nothing but tar-black feathers and glaring, hateful eyes.

Then it was over. With another shriek, the vulture tore itself free of Twilight and shot through the window. Like some nightmarish bat, it flew upwards, its black, ragged wings flaring. Within moments, it vanished into the silent blue sky.

***

Twilight had lost count of how many times Fluttershy had apologized now. Mortified, the pegasus had pulled her friend to her hooves, desperately apologizing on behalf of the mad vulture and herself. After three cups of tea and dozens of “I’m so sorry”s, Twilight finally felt her heart slowing and her cold sweat evaporating in the blissfully oblivious wind. Her head clear, she eventually managed to excuse herself, and with her saddlebag in tow, she departed from Fluttershy’s hut and headed back for Ponyville.

And yet, as she walked along the dusty path to the town square, the wide black holes of the vulture’s eyes still seemed to be watching her. Every time she blinked, every time her eyes flicked from pony to pony, the vulture seemed to be there, for just the slightest moment, black wings spread. The cawing of a perched crow echoed in the cavernous void of its feathers.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that ponies stared at her in confusion as she seemed to ignore their friendly greetings. It wasn’t until a hoof shook her shoulder that she jolted out of her trance.

“Twilight? Hello? Anypony home?” Pinkie Pie trilled in her ear. Twilight jumped in surprise as the bounding pony smiled broadly. “Well jeez! Talk about having your head in the clouds! I was shouting over and over to get your attention, but you had your face in a grump and I had to give you a shake to get you out of your funk!”

Twilight Sparkle blinked at her friend. “Do you need something, Pinkie?”

“Nope! Just saying hi!” With another grin, she fell in step with Twilight, and the two of them trotted along, crossing the bridge over the river crossing through Ponyville. A crow cackled indignantly, fluttering away from the pair as they came too close to its perch.

“So what made you look all glum, Twilight?” asked Pinkie Pie.

Twilight sighed heavily. “It’s Fluttershy’s vulture. I went over to see her because it was sick, and it flew off.”

Her ears flattening sympathetically, Pinkie Pie smiled sadly. “Aw. That’s too bad. But I’m sure it’ll come back. Birds always come back to the roost.” When she failed to see a smile cross Twilight’s face, she gave her a light nudge. “Oh come on. You can’t let a bird-brain get you down! I know what’ll cheer you up! How about a dee-licious treat from Sugarcube –“

A gravelly, obnoxious caw cut her off mid-sentence. Looking up with a scowl, Twilight found a jet-black crow watching them from atop a lamppost with its thin, yellow eyes. It cried out again, its call grating and mean. Within a moment, another crow fluttered down to join it on the lamppost.

“What is it with all these crows?” Twilight asked Pinkie Pie, forcing herself to look away from the black birds. “I’ve never seen this many around Ponyville before.”

“Me neither. Noisy, aren’t they?” Smiling giddily, Pinkie Pie gave the best imitation of the crow’s call she could, cawing loudly. They answered in turn, louder than her. Taking it as a challenge, she cawed even louder. Twilight couldn’t help but giggle as her friend struggled to outdo the shrieking birds. The heated contest escalating as more and more crows landed amongst the rooftop of the town hall and nearby houses. Panting, Pinkie Pie collapsed to her haunches.

“Phew… okay, you win. I give up!” she wheezed, sweat dripping off her forehead.

But the crows only got louder. Wailing and coughing in a hellish choir, their calls grew in volume. Their eyes glinting malevolently, they scrambled restlessly at their perches with their talons, flapping their wings furiously.

“I said you win! You win!” screamed Pinkie Pie over the shrill cries. Twilight couldn’t even hear her. Clutching at her head as the piercing cawing drilled into her brain, ponies around her did the same, shouting in panic and fear as the screaming escalated. Her eardrums rang, her heart raced, and it was as if at any moment her head would explode from the violent sound.

And just as suddenly as it began, it all stopped. The crows snapped their beaks shut, settled their feathers, and sat primly at their posts, as if perfectly satisfied with their graceless performance. Pinkie didn’t notice.

“ –need to get so rude! Talk about a bunch of sore losers!” she screamed hoarsely. Stopping herself as she noticed the abrupt silence, she smiled meekly. One by one, the ponies looked around, whispering to each other in muted tones, looking nervously up at the crows. Then, in the silence under the eyes of the crows, there was a sound.

At first, Twilight Sparkle wasn’t actually sure if she was actually hearing the insistent tapping noise. Her ears still throbbed from the crows’ screaming. But it came again, and again, echoing through the streets of Ponyville. With each tap, a shadow grew larger and larger over the ponies, stretching over them like a thick tarp of inky black night. And then they saw him.

The gryphon.

His stride, while heavy-footed, was slow and deliberate. He leaned heavily with a clawed, wrinkled hand on a cane that swung lazily along the ground. Creeping forward with thin, pale legs, the ponies around the town hall hurriedly parted to let him pass. Their wide, anxious eyes followed his oily black feathers, slicked down the back of his neck and clinging to his body. It gave away the nauseatingly acute crook in his gut below his rib cage. His long bony neck supported a head that seemed too big for his body, and a flat black box hung from it.

But what sent a chill down Twilight’s spine wasn’t his unnatural gait. It wasn’t his ragged, folded wings that bent like those of a gargoyle against his sides. It wasn’t his cold, dark shadow that wrapped around her as he passed. It was his face.

His long, hooked white beak protruded in front of him like a vulgar nose, and an unsettling, mask-like grin wrinkled his flesh and stretched up to his eyes. And perched atop his beak was a pair of round, wire-framed glasses. The sun caught the opaque glass and shot back blades of light. It looked as if the gryphon was ablaze from the inside, and the burning light of the inferno was pouring through his eyes.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t pause. He simply looked straight ahead, that same grin on his lips, limping towards the fountain in the center of the square. Coming to it, he stopped. After a brief pause, he placed his cane down by his feet. Turning, he sat down on the edge of the fountain, and placed his hands down on either side. And he didn’t move from that spot. He just sat, facing the crowd as if they were his congregation, and stared at no one in particular, glasses shining and smile unchanging.

None made a sound. Even the crows did not stir a feather. Forcing herself to stand and tearing her eyes away from the grimly smiling figure, Twilight turned to Pinkie Pie.

“Pinkie? Aren’t you going to say hello to our… new…” Her wavering voice trailed off as Pinkie Pie’s pupils shrank into minute pinpricks of fear. All around her, ponies were slowly backing away from the gryphon. Whispers flitted through the crowd like frightful ghosts.

“Can’t be him…”

“The crows. The crows are with him!”

“It’s…”

“The Magpie,” whispered Pinkie, her mane noticeably drooping. Twilight blinked in confusion.

“The who now?”

“The Magpie!” she shouted hoarsely. Falling backwards away from the gryphon, the terrified pink pony shrieked in terror. “The Magpie!”

The name echoed in the crowd, escalating in panic. In a flurry of hooves and shouts, the crowd scrambled and dispersed, like leaves scattered in the fall wind. Ponies galloped frantically, pegasi shot into the sky to flee.

“The Magpie is here! The Magpie is here!”

Twilight vainly tried to stop one of the fleeing ponies, but they all rushed right past her, flattened ears deaf to her shouting, and wide eyes blind to her waving.

“Wait, stop! Everypony calm down, there’s no need to–“ She was cut off as a bulky stallion rammed her out of the way, sending her sprawling to the ground. Clutching at her gut in a surprised daze, nopony stopped to help her up.

And the Magpie just sat and smiled.

***

“Hold still, Twilight! This is hard enough as it is without all your fidgeting,” scolded Spike. His patient sighed and held as still as she could. With a final tug, Spike finished wrapping the gauze around Twilight’s foreleg. “There. That should do it. Probably gonna have a nasty bruise, though.”

“Thanks, Spike,” said Twilight, giving her scraped leg a quick shake. The bandage was already making the wound feel much better. But it wasn’t doing much good for her restless mind. She got up shakily, and gave her assistant an appreciative rustle of his crest. But as Spike put away the medical gauze into the first-aid kit Twilight had insisted they buy, he gave her a quizzical look.

“You still didn’t tell me how you managed to get yourself banged up like that. I mean, it’s not like you’re involved in many contact sports or anything,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Twilight measured her words. “I was… bumped.” When Spike didn’t look particularly convinced, she sighed and gave him the whole truth. “Alright, fine. I got trampled.”

“Trampled!? What happened?” gasped Spike. Twilight looked forlornly out the window of her loft. It was high noon, and the blazing summer sun was baking the streets of Ponyville. She sighed again.

“I… somepony new arrived in town. A gryphon. And when all the ponies in the town square saw him, they freaked out and ran all over the place.”

“A gryphon? Was it Gilda again? I mean, she’s pretty annoying and all, but I don’t see why that would throw Ponyville into such a –“

“No, not Gilda,” interrupted Twilight, turning on her hoof. “They were shouting something about a magpie.”

Spike scratched his chin. “A magpie? Like the bird?”

“Probably. But that doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t a magpie, it was a gryphon. Why would everyone be so freaked out over a gryphon? He didn’t even say anything or hurt anyone.”

She hadn’t even finished speaking by the time Spike had fished a heavy book on birds from one of the top shelves of the library. Staggering under its weight, he dropped it with a thump on the ground. He stepped aside as Twilight flicked through the pages with a glow of her horn.

“Magpie... bird species... intelligent... carrion eaters...” She looked up from the book and gave Spike a confused look. “It doesn’t say anything in here about gryphons.”

They both sat there quietly before Spike shrugged his shoulders and offered, “Maybe it’s a Ponyville thing? Would explain why we don’t get it.”

Twilight mulled this over before giving her assistant a slight nod. “It’s possible. Maybe that ‘Magpie’ did something in the past. Don’t we have a book of Ponyville history?”

“Uh... I think so. Didn’t you complain about how bad it was, though?”

“It’s a disgrace, is what it is,” scowled Twilight, clucking her tongue. “Even Granny Smith knows more about Ponyville than that–”

The elder mare’s name stirred an idea in Twilight Sparkle’s mind. “Granny Smith! That’s it!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “She’s sure to know who this ‘Magpie’ is. I’ll go see her right now.”

As Twilight galloped up the steps to her loft, Spike looked out the window in concern. “You sure you want to go right now? I mean, this can wait, right? It’s pretty hot out there. You know. For a pony.”

“No time to wait, Spike,” replied Twilight as she fumbled with straps of her saddlebag. Bouncing down the steps, she cocked her head at her concerned assistant. “I’m getting to the bottom of this. Meanwhile, you look through that book and see if you can find anything about that gryphon.” As she put her hoof against the front door, she turned and gave him a sly grin. “And maybe give this place a quick sweep, too.”

Slipping out the door and shutting it behind her, Twilight took two steps outside of the shade of her home before the heat came down like a mallet. The brutal summer heat was fierce and violent, beating down on her as if to melt the fur off her skin. The soothing breeze that had once been coursing between the huddled Ponyville houses had withered and died, leaving Twilight to stumble into the stagnant air with sweat pouring down her brow.

As she tediously marched under the the beating sun, Twilight’s eyes flickered from house to house as she passed. Every shutter was locked, and every curtain drawn closed. It took her a moment before she realized she was the only pony in the streets.

And yet, hundreds of pairs of eyes watched her from the shadowy eaves and rafters of homes. Rustling their feathers in the cool darkness, the crows watched Twilight as she trudged past Carousel Boutique. Normally, Rarity was open at this time a day. But today, a sloppily scribbled “closed” sign hung from the front door.

Sugarcube Corner was in a the same state. Twilight had been hoping to be able to check up on Pinkie Pie to see if she was alright after the stampede yesterday. But it was as if the sunlight had evaporated every last soul in Ponyville, leaving nothing but a haunting ghost town. Twilight flinched despite herself as the crows perched above the doorway into the shop cawed threateningly at her. She backed away from them, their wings flapping and beaks snapping angrily. A shadow fell over here, blocking out the sun, and Twilight Sparkle screamed as wings beat at the air.

“Whoa, whoah, Twilight, calm down! It’s just me!” Slowly opening her eyes as a friendly hoof touched her shoulder, Twilight Sparkle found Rainbow Dash, her mane disheveled and her eyes squinting slightly in the light.

“Rainbow Dash? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same,” she retorted, helping her to her hooves. “Where is everypony? I woke up from my nap, and the streets were totally empty. And there’re all these... crows everywhere. What happened?”

Twilight wiped the sweat from her forehead. “The Magpie happened,” she said sarcastically. Rainbow Dash looked at her blankly.

“Who?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” explained Twilight. “What I do know is that some gryphon showed up in town square, and everypony freaked out for no reason. They called him the Magpie. Whatever that means.”

“Huh,” Rainbow Dash said with a frown. “How come I’ve never heard of this guy before?”

“Probably for the same reason I haven’t. Neither of us are from Ponyville. I think it has to do with that. That’s why I’m going to see Granny Smith. I think that gryphon has something to do with Ponyville’s history.”

Rainbow Dash nodded, and as Twilight continued on her way, she flew close by for a while before coming to the ground again.

“Never been this hot before,” she muttered. “Can’t stand it.”

Twilight Sparkle exhaled heavily in agreement. Behind her, the crows croaked angrily as they headed off through the silent streets of Ponyville. They glared angrily, cheated of their victim.

***

It was an unsettling march to Sweet Apple Acres.

Skirting the apple trees to keep in the shade as much as possible, Twilight found neither Applejack nor her brother Big Macintosh in the orchard. The leaves rippled in the heat, giving the illusion of figures shifting behind their trunks as Twilight and Rainbow Dash nervously eased their way towards the farmhouse. As with the houses in the rest of Ponyville, the windows were dark and sealed.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash exchanged sceptical glances before giving the door a curt rap. In the thick heat and black shadows, something stirred behind the glass panes of the farmhouse. Something like a whimper and frightened squeal slipped through the cracks of the door.

Unnerved, Twilight Sparkle knocked again. There was a sound of hooves clumsily creeping towards the door. Twilight felt her fur prickle as she heard somepony panting heavily on the other side. Reaching for the door again, a voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Get outta here!” hollered Applejack from behind the door. “I... I’m warning you! There’s nopony here for you to take! You hear me? Nopony!”

“Applejack! Calm down! It’s just me and Twilight!” shouted Rainbow Dash, cutting off the hysteric mare. There was a silent pause, then the sound of locks and latches sliding free. The door opened a crack, and a single emerald eye peered through. Looking them up and down, the door swung open wide.

Applejack was a mess. Her normally cautiously managed ponytail was frayed, and loose strands of her mane surrounded her face in a chaotic halo. Her eyes were wide, and her coat was matted with sweat. Her Stenson was nowhere to be seen.

“What are y’all doing outside? Get in, quick!” she whispered harshly, ushering them inside. Twilight sighed with relief as the cool shade of the farmhouse rushed around her as she stepped inside. With a nervous twitch in her hooves, Applejack locked the door behind the two ponies.

“What’s with all the security, AJ?” asked Rainbow Dash.

Applejack looked at her incredulously. “What with him around? Are ya crazy? Ya can’t be too careful. In fact, why in Equestria are the two of you even out here?”

“For that exact reason, Applejack,” said Twilight evenly, following her friend into the living room. Big Macintosh, who was absentmindedly rolling an apple back and forth across the floor, gave them a nod as they entered. Granny Smith’s rocking chair was empty; neither she nor Apple Bloom were anywhere to be found.

“Where are Apple Bloom and Granny Smith?” asked Twilight with a cock of her head.

Without looking Twilight in the eyes, Applejack sat heavily on the couch. “Manehattan. Went to visit the cousins during the off season. Like every summer.” Twilight’s brow furrowed uncomfortably. Applejack’s curt tone was unlike her. There was no familiar warmth in her eyes which flitted from window to window, as if expecting to find something waiting for her outside.

“So,” started Twilight carefully as Rainbow Dash reclined against a wall, letting herself cool off, “would you guys mind telling us why you and Ponyville have decided to bunker down like you were expecting a dragon attack?”

Applejack blinked, looking at her brother incredulously. “What in the...” she stammered. “Have y’all been living under a rock? Don’t you know who’s out there?”

“What, the Magpie?” interjected Rainbow Dash. The two siblings jumped as if they had been electrocuted.

“Don’t say his name,” rumbled Big Macintosh. His normally lazy eyes were ablaze with fear. “He’ll hear ya.”

“Alright,” snapped Twilight Sparkle, “this is getting completely ridiculous. He’s just a gryphon!”

“No, Twilight,” said said the farm mare, her eyes darkening somberly. “He’s not just a gryphon. Don’t y’all remember the nursery rhyme? The stories?”

Twilight Sparkle looked back at Rainbow Dash, who gave her a look as blank as hers. “That would be a no,” she said.

“The... well, ya know... he’s the...” muttered Applejack. She lowered her tone, bringing her head close to Twilight’s. “He’s the harbinger. The harbinger of death.”

For a moment, Twilight didn’t say a word, staring dumbly at Applejack with a bewildered look. Then she burst out laughing.

“You can’t be serious. The harbinger of death? That’s the most insane thing I’ve heard since–”

“It ain’t a joke, Twilight!” shouted Applejack. Twilight flinched in surprise. The sudden blaze in her friend’s eyes scared her far more than this “Magpie”. For a split second, she saw the eyes of the vulture. Then they were gone.“This ain’t just some silly little urban legend us little earth ponies came up with. He’s real. He’s real and he was there when my parents...”

Her voice trailed off, and she glared at her friend, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “This isn’t Zecora, Twilight. This is evil.”

Then she turned on her hoof and stomped out of the room, anger burning inside of her. Twilight started off after her friend, an apology rising in her throat, when Big Macintosh rose before her and blocked her path. He looked down at her imposingly.

“Ah think y’all better leave now,” he said simply. There was no threat in his voice. Only resolve. Twilight tried to say something, but instead just sadly nodded her head. Walking back to the door, with a reluctant Rainbow Dash in tow, she looked back at the stallion.

“So what are you going to do then?” she asked weakly. Big Macintosh’s eyes didn’t change.

“We wait. We wait until he gets who he’s waiting for,” he said slowly. As he reached to close the door, he added, “And we pray to Celestia that it ain’t us.”

And with that, he shut the door, and left the two of them outside. The sun seared the napes of their neck as they stared at the door in disbelief. As the two ponies turned away from the fortified home, Twilight tried to make sense of what she had been told.

“This is crazy,” she finally said after they had been walking for a while. “All of Ponyville’s gone into a total lock down out of superstition and old mare’s tales. And everyone is too scared out of their minds to think logically!” She stomped a hoof in frustration. “I’m not going to let this happen.”

Rainbow Dash looked at her friend out of the corner of her eye. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You can’t judge a book by its cover,” lectured Twilight sagely. “You have to read it to find out what it’s truly about.” She shot her friend a determined look. “I’m going to talk to this ‘Magpie’. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Rainbow Dash stopped in her tracks, then flapped her wings rapidly to catch up with her friend. “Wait, are you sure that’s such a good idea?” she said with a hint of concern. “I mean... you heard what Applejack said, right?”

With a spin, Twilight faced her friend, frowning. “You can’t be telling me that you’re actually buying into this hooey?”

“Well yeah, I mean, no, I mean...” she said, flustered, “not exactly. But AJ looked really freaked out. I think there’s more to this than we think.” Without dignifying this with an answer, Twilight turned tail and continued her walk for the town square. Following her reluctantly, Rainbow Dash glided closely behind. “There’s never been this many crows, either...” she said under her breath.

They didn’t speak to each other until they crossed the bridge in the town square. The sun at their backs, the shadows were lengthening around them, casting pillars of darkness to stretch towards them like claws.

And the greatest shadow loomed over them, cold, daunting, waiting. Stretching across the sun-blistered earth of the town square, it spread its black wings silently.

The Magpie just sat and smiled.

The thousand eyes of the crows stalking their every move in the waning sunlight, the two ponies trudged towards the immobile gryphon. His bespectacled eyes flashed, blinding them momentarily. And every step towards the sitting figure seemed to become harder, the sun punishing every motion. But finally, Twilight Sparkle came to a stop before the Magpie. Rainbow Dash alighted behind her, rubbing a shoulder anxiously.

Twilight cleared her throat and spoke. “Excuse me, sir?” The Magpie did not answer. He seemed to stare right through her with his shining glasses. She tried again, offering a weak smile. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and off her snout.

“My name is Twilight Sparkle... and I... um... Well, welcome to Ponyville!” she said as brightly as she could muster. The Magpie remained silent. That same eerie smile never left his face, as if it was cut into his skin. The sun was giving her a headache. And the crows were beginning to caw menacingly.

“Hello? Can you hear me? What’s your name? Who are you? Why are you here?” With each increasingly frustrated question, she was only met with silence. As she bit her lip angrily and opened her mouth to berate the jet-black gryphon once more, Rainbow Dash interrupted her.

“Twi, just stop, alright? This isn’t a good idea,” she said anxiously. Turning on her angrily, Twilight gave her friend a steely look.

“What? Are you going to chicken out on me now? Look at him! He’s just a... crooked old bird!” But Rainbow Dash shied away, her eyes flitting between Twilight and the sky.

“This... I...” she stammered, her eyes becoming thin with fear. “I’m sorry Twilight.” Before her friend could say a word, Rainbow Dash staggered away from her, eyes locked on the sky as she furiously flapped upwards.

“Rainbow Dash, wait!” shouted Twilight after her. “Why are you running? There’s nothing to–” She stopped as a dark shadow obscured the sun, then passed. Twilight looked upwards.

Up in the pale blue sky of Ponyville, dozens of vultures flew in slow, lazy rings.

Staring upwards, as if hypnotized by their slow flight. The sun burned their outlines into her retinas. And it was then that she realized that she was being watched.  Not just by the crows, not just by the vultures, not just by the gleaming eyes of the Magpie. But from every house, ponies watched them, the gryphon and the pony, from the safety of their shuttered windows. They watched with anxious eyes and bated breath, waiting to see what the two would do.

Slowly, Twilight turned under the hostile sun, and brought her face close to the Magpie’s. She stared into his eyes, unafraid and fierce.

“I won’t let you do this. You hear me?” she hissed, seething. “I won’t let you do this to my town. I won’t let you do this to my friends. I will stop you.”

The Magpie said nothing. He merely smiled as he always had, and exhaled softly. His breath wrapped around her nostrils and crept into her throat. Twilight reeled.

It smelled of death.

The two of them stood there, beneath the crows and vultures. Silent, resigned, and burning inside, Twilight Sparkle left the Magpie by the fountain and returned to her library, purpose fueling her heart. And in the streets of Ponyville, all was still as the sun abandoned its assault and died beneath the horizon.

***

The town slept restlessly. The night passed in a blur of mumbled oaths, nervous ticks, and glassed eyes staring at every door and window. Ponies whispered and stroked their fillies and colts, keeping them close as the dead veil of night froze the window panes and numbed their souls. Then the sun came, scorching the earth and weathering the ponies. Ponyville held its breath. It held its breath as the crows waited for the choice to be made, pecking at the dust and flocking to the ghoul that sat in the town square. The heat would bake the streets until it retreated once more. Thus each day passed, slowly, painfully, gratingly.

And Ponyville withered and darkened.

Sweet Apple Acres dried and crisped; the fledgling trees rotting themselves free of their leaves, and the youthful buds turned brown with lack of water. The rivers turned to dust, and the carefully painted facades of the Ponyville houses turned pale. The sky, left to its fate by frightened pegasi, gradually clotted with swollen black clouds bloated with rumbling electricity and rain.

For eight days, Ponyville hung in doubt, gripped by the cold claws of the Magpie and burned by the sun in a deadly fever. And on the eighth day, the sickness boiled.

None of the residents of Ponyville could remember the last time the Ponyville Tower bell had rung. The old clock tower was mostly a relic, nowadays, a memorial to the founding of the small town. Its dusty rafters were abandoned, and the old face barely kept time anymore. But it stood there, waiting patiently like a father for a son to come home. And now it was calling to them. The solid echoes gave them a grip, an anchor in this nauseating world of shadows.

One by one, they pulled loose their locks, pulled furniture from their doorstep, and crept from their holes like frightened mice. Looking upwards at the looming thunderheads and leering crows, some clutched cleavers, frying pans, and hammers in their teeth. Anything that could give them some comfort in the shadow of the Magpie. In their sullen hoard, they marched for Ponyville tower. In their huddled mass, they stood together, anxious and waiting. In their fear and tension, a pony stood before them.

Mayor Mare cleared her throat awkwardly, standing atop the rickety podium made out of some crates dragged from a nearby house. She mumbled something to a forlorn Rainbow Dash, who flew overhead to do a head count, and addressed the resident of Ponyville.

“Fillies and gentlecolts...” she began uncomfortably. “I don’t think I need to explain why we’re all here today.” She sighed heavily, removing her glasses and wiping them with shaky hooves.

“It’s been more than a week. We’ve been stranded within our own homes, hoping to wait out the coming shadow. But the shadow has not passed.”

A voice blurted out from the back of the crowd, a mare. “Why hasn’t anypony died?”

Several mumbled in frightened agreement, echoing the question.

“Who is he waiting for? Somepony has to be to blame!”

Waving a hoof to try to calm the ponies, Mayor Mare answered honestly. “I don’t... I don’t know who he’s waiting for.”

“Who does he want? Why hasn’t anypony died?”

“I don’t–”

“We can’t just keep sitting her, scared out of our minds! We need to do something!”

“Well we–”

“Enough is enough! He has to take someone, sooner or later! I’m watching my fillies starve and I can’t–”

“Everypony please be quiet!” shrieked the mayor, her voice shrill with panic. A dead silence fell over the crowd. Panting hard, she stomped a hoof. “I don’t know! Alright? I don’t know who the Magpie is waiting for. This has... never happened. Never in the history of Ponyville has the Magpie stayed in one place for so long. He comes and goes but this... this is unheard of.” Her voice trembled slightly, and she wiped her glasses again. Then Rainbow Dash piped up from the back.

“Somepony’s missing!” she called. A shudder went through the crowd. Mayor Mare slipped her spectacles back on, staring at the airborne pegasus in disbelief.

“That’s impossible. Everypony knows to...” She bit her lip anxiously. “Who’s missing?”

The ponies looked around, looking for a missing familiar face. Somepony gasped.

“It’s Twilight! Twilight Sparkle isn’t here!” chirped Pinkie Pie from her spot in the crowd. Immediately, an unsettled mutter went around the ponies.

“Twilight? But she’s always punctual!”

“Why wouldn’t she come to an emergency town meeting?”

The mayor tried in vain to bring some sort of order back into the congregation, shouting and pleading for silence. Rainbow Dash shot down the podium, pushing a startled mayor aside.

“Will everypony just chill! There’s no reason to get all worked up over this! We need to focus on the problem at hoof, instead of just–”

“And why wouldn’t we be worried?” protested a voice. Its owner shouldered through the crowd, a pitchfork gripped tightly in a foreleg. Applejack joined Rainbow Dash on the podium, pushing her aside. “We’re all here! We risked our hides comin’ out while that blasted death bird waits for one of us to keel over so he can drag us off, and Twilight didn’t even have the decency of showing up!”

Rainbow Dash’s wings fluttered anxiously. “I... I’m sure there’s a good reason!”

A stallion shouted from the back of the crowd. “I bet Twilight’s in cahoots with the Magpie! I saw her talking with him in the town square.” There was an angry mumble of agreement.

“She did what?” hissed Applejack incredulously. She shot Rainbow Dash a demanding look. Rainbow Dash opened and closed her mouth soundlessly before finally hanging her head, resigned. It only made Applejack angrier. “And Twilight wasn’t even scared of the Magpie,” she continued, addressing the crowd.

“Then why hide? Why now?”

Applejack’s mind slowed. “Because... because she knows,” she said softly. The crowd murmured in confusion. “Because she knows,” repeated Applejack, her voice rising and her heart beating fast. “She knows who he’s here for. She knows who the Magpie’s come to take away!”

“Who!?” came the single answer.

Applejack’s voice felt dry as tinder as she hissed the answer. “He’s come for Twilight Sparkle.”

A stunned silence settled over the crowd. Applejack continued, something hot and angry rising in her chest. “The Magpie’s here for Twilight! That’s what he told her when he talked to her. And now she’s hiding.” There was a murmur of agreement, this one darker and angrier.

“She’s been hiding for eight days now! Hiding from her fate! And she’s been leaving us to suffer for it!”

The crowd shouted their agreement, teeth and hooves clenching around their weapons. The thundering skies and bleak fears coalesced into a single thought. Anger. And somepony to blame.

“No more fear!”

“I’m sick of hiding!”

“She can’t do this! We can’t be punished for her!”

Applejack felt her heart swell and darkness creep into her throat. Baring her teeth, she raised her pitchfork as the sky rumbled with electricity.

“She won’t let the Magpie take her? Then we’ll give her to him! For Ponyville!”

The crowd roared and stomped, eyes flashing and weapons quivering.

“For our foals! For our families! For Ponyville!”

***

With a groan, Twilight Sparkle slowly raised her head from her book. Blinking her eyes free of sleep, she sniffed and looked down. The book she had been reading was drizzled with a thin line of drool. Asleep again, she scolded herself. With a melancholic turn of the page, she skimmed the words, her sleep-addled state only picking out every other sentence. It had, as expected, nothing about the Magpie.

She was about to place the thick book back with the other failed attempts when Spike gingerly slid himself between two large stacks.

“Geez, Twilight. Are you still going? It’s been almost seven hours now,” he said, concerned. “You need a break.”

Normally, Twilight would have stubbornly refused the idea of rest and shooed off her assistant, but she was too exhausted to care anymore. Rising on shaky hooves, she levitated her book on unicorn history onto a precarious tower of books.

Since she had returned from her fruitless talk with the gryphon sitting patiently in the town square, she had locked herself in the library. De-shelving her entire collection, she spent day after day poring through historical works, hunting for the shadow of the Magpie.

His name only appeared in whispers, between paragraphs. Only hinting, never truly revealing. She scoured every word of numerous tomes on folklore and urban legends, but she only found nursery rhymes, allusions in the ends of fables, and never any solid evidence towards who he was or where he came from. It seemed a hopeless chase.

Twilight plodded into the kitchen, where Spike was setting up a platter of tea. With a tired but content smile, she levitated the tea pot, pouring herself a cupful, and blew on it. Steam rose lazily from the brew.

“Thanks, Spike,” she said from behind her frazzled mane. “I guess I haven’t been taking the best care of myself these past few days, huh?”

Spike poured himself some tea as well and sniffed it appreciatively. “No kidding. Maybe if you slept at night you wouldn’t be using your books as pillows,” he reprimanded.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized, taking a small sip. It scalded her tongue slightly. “I’ve just been so caught up in this Magpie business. He’s paralyzed the town and it’s just so frustrating that I can’t do anything about it!”

The small dragon tapped his claws thoughtfully along the side of his mug. “Maybe it’s time to send a letter to the princess asking for help?”

Sighing heavily, Twilight hung her head for a while, then looked up with a feeble smile. “Yeah. I guess so. Kinda hoped I could solve this on my own... And I think I’ll take this one,” she added as Spike beamed and plonked down his mug to take a letter.

“Are you sure? You’ve been working on this so hard already.”

“Maybe, but I started this, and I’m going to finish it.” With that, Twilight took her tea into the study, giving it a sip. The warm feeling of it in her throat had already put her in a more pleasant mood. Setting herself up at her lectern, she dipped her quill into the nearby inkwell and pulled up a sheet of parchment.

Pressing the feather to the paper as she began her letter, she chuckled slightly. “I’ll tell you this much, Spike: I can’t wait until this is all behind us and we can get a good laugh out of it.”

A brick flew through the window, showering Twilight in a rain of shattered glass.

With a cry, she collapsed away from the lectern, her inkwell breaking on the floor.

“Twilight?!” shouted Spike from the next room, “Twilight?! Are you alright?”

“Stay away from the windows!” she shrieked in response as another large stone burst through another windowpane. As it landed heavily, Twilight could then hear the shouting. Loud and jeering, the voices of hundreds called her name, screaming in anger.

“Coward! Traitor!”

“You can’t hide from him, you bastard!”

“Take the Magpie with you!”

“Twilight, what’s going on?” squealed Spike, crouched behind the kitchen counter, his eyes wide with terror. The two of them jumped as something heavy slammed into the door.

“Just don’t move, Spike! Whatever you do, just stay where you are!” Summoning the magic that dwelled inside her, Twilight lifted the piles of books and slumped them against the door in a makeshift barracade just as the it began to splinter. Ducking her head beneath the windows, she galloped to Spike. Twilight grabbed the dragon and held him tightly. Tears poured town his eyes, mixing her with her sweat.

“Listen to me. Listen!” she said rapidly, her breathing erratic. “We’re going to be just fine? Alright? Nothing’s going to happen to us. We’re going to be all–”

There was a ripple of light, and a blazing torch flew from the darkness outside onto the library floor. The dry heat of the past week took its tool instantly. With a furious speed, the flames spread from page to page, engulfing the library in a hellish red light. Covering her eyes as the flames leaped towards her, the heat singed Twilights Sparkle’s fur. Coughing on the smoke, she stumbled away from the inferno.

“Spike, stay here,” she wheezed. “Hide in the fire. Don’t let them find you.”

His eyes went wide, tears rolling down his cheeks. Twilight grabbed her assistant and pulled him close. “I’ll be back for you,” she breathed, wrapping her hooves around him. “I swear.”

Releasing him, she gave him one last pleading glance before turning and diving into the flames. All breath left her body as the flames took it for their own. Pushing headlong through the cinders, she broke free of the flaming books and collapsed onto the stairs to the loft.

The front door was awash in heat and fire, and shouts of rage still poured through the windows. So there was only one way out. Staggering upwards, she coughed violently as smoke filled her lungs. Kicking open the patio windows, she doubled over the railing of the balcony, choking from the soot and gasping for the heavy air. The flames licking at her flank, she prayed for Celestia to catch her, and jumped.

For a moment, she was weightless, nothing but the heat of her burning library touching her fur. Then she struck the ground. Twilight cried out in pain as one of her hind legs bent underneath her and twisted. Struggling to rise to her hooves, she collapsed backwards. With a crackling wail, the last of her library was consumed by the fire, the tree becoming nothing but a flaming pyre.

Eyes burning from the tears and ash, Twilight stood, her sprained leg shooting jolts of pain. And looking up, she found the eyes of hundreds boring into her. Their eyes glimmered vengefully in the light of the fire, weapons gleaming like the oily feathers of a crow.

Breathing hard, she turned and limped away as fast as she could. With a soundless roar, the mob lurched and followed.

Hooves beating at the ground, throwing dust into the storm-ridden skies, they chased her as she staggered through the streets, begging for someone to help her. They chased her as she fell to the ground crossing the bridge. Crying and screaming, Twilight Sparkle dragged herself along the ground, dragged herself towards the looming shadow. The crows watched silently. The vultures flew over head in the stormy clouds. And the Magpie just sat and smiled.

Then, howling in blind rage, the mob fell upon her.

They beat at her with hooves, knives, chair legs. Anything that could hurt and draw blood lashed at her furiously. Twilight couldn’t hear, she couldn’t think or speak. She could only feel pain as her fur became matted with blood and her bones ached and cracked.

“Die, die, die for the Magpie!”

She could drag herself no further. Rolling onto her back, her screams drowned as her throat filled with blood and saliva. A figure loomed over head, etched in the sick light of the thundering clouds.

With a bellow, Applejack brought down her pitchfork and silenced Twilight Sparkle once and for all.

Cackling, the crows took fright and scattered.

The crowd fell still. Panting, sweating, shivering, the armed ponies stared numbly at spread-eagled body. With a grunt, Applejack ripped her pitchfork free. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she looked at what was left of her friend. Then, one by one, the ponies looked up to the shadow at the fountain.

The Magpie, eyes vomiting light in the bleak darkness, did not stir.

“Well what are you waiting for?” hollered Applejack, her knees weak with faltering adrenaline. “You got what you came for. You got it.” The crowd mumbled in agreement.

But the Magpie just sat and smiled.

Confused, frightened eyes flitted to and fro. The weapons in their teeths quivered, uncertain.

“Why isn’t he leaving?”

“This isn’t right. Why is he still here?”

“Who else does he want!?”

Applejack flinched as something struck her on the cheek. She wiped it away. Water. Looking upwards with wide, horrified eyes, she stared at the sky as it crackled with thick thunder. Then the skies tore open, drowning the town in a torrential downpour. The shattering sound of the rain made them deaf, smearing their vision and matting their fur.

“Oh dear Celestia, no,” whispered Applejack.

There was a silence as the ponies looked at each other. Then one gritted their teeth around the cleaver in their mouth.

“Well it’s not gonna be me!” she shrieked.

The mare swung her head violently. There was a warm spray, and a stallion collapsed backwards, a gash in his throat. As he collapsed into the roaring waters, the crowd shuddered. Then, raising their weapons, they screamed and tore into each other.

Blades and teeth flashed in the thunder, hunting flesh and seeking blood. Applejack fell backwards in horror as two mares gouged at each other with kitchen knives, eyes blank with nothing but ravenous blood-lust and the rage to survive. Hoove struck, blood poured, and ponies screamed as they were torn apart and thrown to the ground. There was nothing but rain and screaming and blind anger.

The rain water turned black with the blood of the crowd. Applejack, collapsing away from the furious horde, found nothing but two eyes shining in the downpour.

The Magpie just sat and smiled.

Shivering with anger and fear, Applejack scooped up her pitchfork and staggered towards the Magpie. Something hot and wet sprayed across her face, and a pony collapsed into the mud. But she didn’t care. Each hoof striking the ground with purpose, Applejack stalked towards the smiling death-bird with her pitchfork raised.

Behind her, lightning flashed, and a black, winged figure screamed in the rain. Applejack turned as Rainbow Dash tore through the turbulent air.

“You did this!” she screamed, her voice tearing. “You did this!”

Applejack fell into the reeking waters as Rainbow Dash slammed into her. Her blue fur dripped carmine, one of her wings nauseatingly lopsided. Rainbow Dash’s eyes were nothing but fire, nothing but hate. As she raised a stone above her head, Applejack fumbled for her pitchfork. Water poured into her eyes, and as she thrust the fork upwards, the last thing she saw was the boulder bearing down on her skull.

***

A songbird rustled its wings, shaking sparkling dewdrops from its feathers. The storm had finally passed, and the heat ended. The little bird chirped and whistled its content little song to the blue skies. It was the only joyful sound amongst the muted cawing of the crows.

In the town square, the Magpie sat pleasantly. The bouncing, gleeful sunlight had dried his feathers and warmed his coat. His glasses glittering in the light, he never stopped smiling. Then, his knees cracking, he pushed his weight onto his hands and came to all fours. Reaching up with a wrinkled claw, he adjusted his spectacles, and reached down for his cane. It had gotten caked with dark red mud. He gave it a quick shake to clean it off.

It sank in the mud as he took it in hand and pushed his weight onto it. Walking forward slowly, he stopped before an eviscerated corpse. Leaning down gently on his aching knees, he prodded the still flesh of the pony. Then he looked up at the carnage, the splayed limbs and frozen eyes.

The smile never leaving his lips, he reached up to the thin black box hung around his neck. Fumbling with the latch, it eventually sprang open.

As the vultures came down from the skies and the vultures alighted upon the bodies, the Magpie tied the clean, white napkin around his neck.

When Spike arrived with the royal guards, they found nothing but bones, greasy black feathers, and the slight rank-sweet odor of carrion.