The Wandering Shadows
Mad.
They call me mad.
Perhaps I am mad. If I am, does knowing that fact decrease my madness or enforce it? I don’t know anymore. Regardless of that, it constitutes little in the grand scheme of things. My dame once told me that the mind is what it believes. If I believe I am mad, than I am already lost. What I am matters little. What I believe is what matters greatly.
It is only in these rare moments under the night mother’s moonlight streaming through my barred window I can confide in my friend with her comforting parchment pages and a stolen pen. I had long learned to abide by a semi-normal sleeping schedule in order to avoid my tormentor’s ire. As long as I am a well-behaved mare and respect their madness, they leave me alone at night. Often enough I can see them patrolling this prison. I don’t know why they expect such danger from us. They lock me up in a field of white and force feed me poison. Between them and myself, I am not host to the greater sin in this damned place.
There are four others on this floor, three mares and a stallion. None of them talk to me, at least not when I am present. They sit and stare, gazes blank and vacant and drooling. Horrid place. The wardens claim this is nothing but a bastion of safety and sanctuary, but then why have my only companions been reduced to nothing but gibbering wrecks? Whenever I try to talk to them, the guards scream and force me away, locking me in my cell once again. Alas, I am alone in both body and mind. I cannot even trust my mind in this place. Sleep no longer comforts me and the growing shadows of day and night are wrought with nightmares.
I was a carpenter before my imprisonment. Not to succumb to hubris, but I must say I was very proficient in my skill, and that meant my skills were always in demand. Especially in my little town of Ponyville. I cannot fathom how such a small hamlet can garner so much trouble and destruction, but the gods above and below granted it the title of greatest trouble magnet. Rampaging stellar creatures, self replicating gremlins, rampaging unicorns, angry gods; the insurance premiums were absolutely ridiculous if you didn’t rub shoulders and flanks with the local artisans.
We helped each other out in the smaller towns. It was only natural in such a small environment and the proximity fostered a certain special kind of camaraderie among everypony. Even though money was sparse by most township standards, we bypassed that minor inconvenience by incorporating an unspoken barter system. The cobbler would help the baker, the baker would cook for the mason, the mason would lay bricks for the gardener, the gardener would decorate the lonely carpenter’s flowerbeds...
It progressed as such and one deed repaid another. We were a happy, tight-knit community. And then she came, an abscess and savior from a place only dreamed about by some. Twilight Sparkle of House Sparkle, student of Princess Celestia, may she live forever. It was the eve of the Summer Sun Celebration and she was sent to preside over the entire ceremony. I didn’t like strangers. I never did. It was nothing personal; I was simply content with my current list of friends and acquaintances and did not wish for an outsider to disrupt the status quo.
Little did I know how influential and life-changing that mare would be. She looked nothing special, just the usual pompous, coddled child one would expect from the faraway land of Canterlot. Far away to us, that is. Those who lived in Ponyville tended to stay there. To us, Canterlot was equal parts Elysium and an urban wasteland. It was the other side of the glass ceiling that could never be touched, or the corrupt city neck deep in urban decay. This little thing, a socially maladjusted and bookish mare was passed off without a second thought. With a slight prayer that she would return to to Elysium, I avoided her and let her accomplish her tasks.
One day. That was all it took. One day. One day to change our entire town and the world at large. A legend almost forgotten by time, begotten by sin. The first appearance of darkness made flesh struck us all to our core. Unless you were there yourself, you cannot know the scope and scale of Nightmare Moon’s power. The unstoppable torrents of magic, the rivers capable of swallowing you whole as they moved by their mistress’ will. Living shadows. Darkness made flesh. I never realized that the monsters, the true world-consuming horrors were no longer works of fiction meant to scare naughty little colts and fillies.
All it took was one inconsequential mare to bring down a god. All that anger, all that hate bottled up on the surface of the moon. It would be like commanding a river to kneel, or the thunderstorm winds to cease. An impossibility, denial right in the face of what was plausible. Still she fought, still she garnered friends. She did not buckle and yield, she was compelled to stay. Tartarus stalked them, beckoning them beyond every shadow.
I don’t know the exact details of Miss Sparkle’s flight into that forsaken forest. I don’t know how she managed to lasso five oblivious mares into a suicide mission, but she did it. The night that would last forever ended and heralded a new dawn, a new hope for our people.
I remember the resulting celebration with fondness and adoration. True, it nearly bankrupted the town’s collective funds, but we deserved it. We are creatures of the sun and light; companionship in the dark is ill-suited for social creatures like us. We partied. We sang, we drank, we wallowed in exuberance that put every bacchanalian on the planet to shame. Yes, it was composed of little else than the scrapes and materials on hand, but it was our celebration. We were at ground zero, where the Nightmare lived and died.
I admit I succumbed to the same basic carnal instincts and debauchery as many others. It was the first time I saw Pine Breeze. Truly saw him as more than a simple pony. The herd dynamic inherent and prevalent across all social stations was naught but a problem for the next day. I still recall seeing him outside the bakery laughing with Carrot Top and Thunderlane, and the reasons why were lost on me. The previous week, he had done me a favor by planting some new tiger lillies in my yard. I could not help but admire his sweating form in the earlier noonday sun. For just a few moments I could pretend I was a filly admiring the local colts. The memories returned as I saw him through a drunken haze. Without any regret or self control, I walked right up to him and kissed him full on the lips.
What was left of the day and night was lost on both of us. We woke up in his room tired, groggy, and sore. The disheveled sheets and lingering scent in the air provided ample evidence for our previous forgotten memories, yet neither of us regretted the encounter. I remember the smile and the dimples that formed on each cheek as he calmly and carefully asked me if we could go on a proper date the coming week, one we could remember once it was over. I eagerly accepted.
I was floating throughout the rest of the day. The day before, I was a grumpy mare, suspicious of outsiders. By the next I was smiling without a care in the world. I had a boyfriend. The fact seemed surreal and sublime, an impossible dream that I would wake up from any second. I spent the entire day feeling as if nothing bad could happen. Even seeing Twilight Sparkle being granted the local library as a permanent residence didn’t dampen my mood.
The smile that had plastered my face all day still hadn’t left when the night had come, the first true night blessed by Luna in over a thousand years. I couldn’t help but giggle like a little schoolfilly as I entered my room. My perfect bedroom. I built the frame myself. It was made from stout birch wood and painted a soft brown. It was perfect for me and plenty big enough to sleep on. My smile widened and my nethers tingled at it housing someone other than just me. Memories drifted to the surface once more. I thought about them as long as possible, as I never wanted to forget those special moments I remembered. A night of passion, sweat, moans, and tender kisses. I had the chance to relive that companionship as something other than a one night stand.
My dreams were not so kind. I suppose that for every good, there is a bad. A night of love was repaid by a night of fear. What I would have given to relive that night with Pine Breeze. Alas, it was not to be. My first few dreams were more strange than horrible. I saw the planet at its dawn, the lands covered in barren stone and oceans unable to support life. Then there were forests compacted with strange and unusual life. They were more like creatures out of monster stories and fairy tales. Great lizards and insects haunted the forest floor, unseen by modern eyes.
The next vision brought giant basaltic pillars stretching to the sky as if to hold up the heavens themselves. Dark and forbidding, they cast massive shadows over barren desert sands. Each was carved with strange and forgotten ruins from a civilization long lost to the sands of time. Throughout these dreams, I was painfully unaware of myself. My body was uncontrollable and felt alien. For the first time in memory, I knew I was dreaming. I had heard of lucid dreaming before, but I was unable to command the dream as I should have been able to.
I couldn’t even move, but just as my thoughts recognized that fact, I drifted towards one of the towers. I didn’t know what means of locomotion I was granted, but I approached a tower in the shade of its great shadow. A door opened with a hiss, granting me access.
I would have screamed if my voice was functioning properly. The doors opened up to a dark cyclopean chamber home to thousands of horrible creatures. Covered in thick transparent membranes, they walked on their conical hind legs, but used their forelimbs to support their larger upper bodies. Their faces were an abomination, and I dare not recreate the memory on paper or in my mind. I shudder at the thought alone.
I awoke with a start, screaming into the night. The sounds of my dysphoria were masked by lingering merriment from late party animals. I took my time to alleviate my dry mouth and remove the lingering cold sweat. Never before had I received such a scare.
Sleep evaded me that night and I rose with the dawn, tired and unsteady. Upon removing myself from the comforting warmth of my home, I saw that the fresh wave of dew incurred by the cool night had done nothing to change the town for better or worse. Some ponies clung together due to newly discovered amor. The way they clung to each other and nuzzled was almost obscene, but the lingering memories of Pine and my dream quickly buried thoughts of propriety.
Deciding something in my stomach would return my mood to baseline, I stopped at the local candymaker. The lithe mare acquired not just my usual order of weekly sweets, but the second fright of my otherwise uneventful morning. Her shadow was stretched into a monstrosity that would have found a home amongst the creatures in the black tower. It defied conventional descriptions and could only be described as a mound of indiscriminate flesh pustules. Several tendrilic feelers stretched across the room, feeling the other shadows for other such entities.
Perplexed and horrified, I pointed out the monstrous shadow with a stifled scream. By the time our collective gaze returned to the leviathan, it was naught but a reflection of the candymaker’s own image. I was chided for my outburst and asked to leave, which I did under much protest and babbling confusion.
I faced an uneasy afternoon. The candymaker was not the last target of the shadow creatures. I saw dozens lingering in the wake of other ponies, each victim just as oblivious to their observer as her. A little filly with frazzled locks, niece of the candymaker, ran with a group of friends down a dusty street as a nightmare stalked her from the darkness. What ruckus I had caused was attributed to lingering fears Nightmare Moon one day previous had hearkened. My outcries were ignored, lost among the sea of obliviousness and euphoria.
Night came once more. Never before had laying my head down produced such unease. To my everlasting dread, my dreams once again threw me among the monsters that called the tower home. They were not afraid of me, and after I grew past my initial fear, I was not afraid of them. They called themselves the Ancient Ones, collectors of knowledge from all places in time. They had mastered and built great machines to observe both the past and future. My fear gave way to a perverse curiosity. The nature of my dreams was unknown, but the prospect of knowledge, unlimited knowledge, was enticing indeed. I was an artisan, not an intellectual, and therefore the prospect was as daunting as it was improbable. Maybe with their help I could unlock the enigma of the shadows.
It was then I discovered the source of the Ancient One’s acceptance of my presence as I examined myself. Transparent skin, conical legs. I was one of them. I awoke with another primal bellow of terror and my days continued as such nonstop. The light gifted me with visions of monsters, while the night sent me back to the Ancient Ones. My mind was imprisoned either way.
The stress strained whatever relationship I could have attained with Pine Breeze. I had acted natural enough, as natural as I could considering the monster lingering in his shadow glowered and thrashed from beyond the candlelight. By then I had learned to hide the inexplicable kneejerk fear and outbursts around him. My manner had convinced him, although I could see it in his eyes he knew I was not well.
It was becoming more and more difficult to conceal my emotions lest the public believe I had become soft in the head. More and more ponies became host to these creatures every day. I was certain they would spell doom for Ponyville, if not the world at large. I had not the funds for an extended trip to other towns to check if the phenomenon was widespread. I could not stop occasional outbursts, and this brought the attention and mirth of those who once thought me of a sound mind. I could divine their thoughts. Maniac. Lunatic. Mad mare.
Over time I noticed a change in my neighbors, a secret privy to only myself. A musician that taught at the local school woke up one day missing an eye. Shocked, I asked him what accident had caused such a grievous injury. I was met with the same confusion whenever I brought up the subject of shadows and the unknown. My confusion had attracted the ire of several other locals. By then my antics were no longer considered endearing. The stallion, insulted, proclaimed he was born with only one eye and left in an angry huff. He and a group of onlookers my outburst had attracted looked at me in disapproval for bringing up a topic as if it were a horrible breach in etiquette. I knew he had more than one eye last week. I knew it. I knew I wasn’t losing what little mind I had left. It was then I turned and ran back home, for I had seen his shadow. An eye had formed in the minute darkness, large and unblinking and focused on me.
My sleep was my only sanctuary. I learned that there were other life forms trapped among the Ancient Ones. Griffons, zebras, ponies; all were present in varying numbers. Some claimed to be fantastical creatures from long-dead or unknown races. I met a particularly loquacious Ancient One claiming to be a star creature from a vast and frozen wasteland in the distant past. Another was a scholar from Equestria’s own past, a stallion that gained great proficiency in the temporal arts among the archives.
From what I discovered, the Ancient Ones summoned any and all intelligent life to their archives with their mind-bogglingly advanced machines. They selected individuals that contained particular mental traits they desired, or were considered the peak individual of the age. It was then that they were offered the chance to add their own collective knowledge and experiences to the archives.
I wrote my own manuscripts pertaining to everything, even those as simple as daily life. The collective histories of every citizen I had come to know, every legend and myth that I could recall from my youth, the recent history of Equestria including Luna’s return to grace.
Everything I crafted onto celluloid sheets was brought to a central complex within the archive. The only words to describe it was a tree crafted from both biological material and the Ancient One’s machines. Long, thin branches were topped with orbs of white light that absorbed manuscripts so that they could be catalogued and displayed on windows crafted from glass and treeflesh.
It was there that I learned about Equestria’s own history, both the past and the distant future. I saw the collapse of the griffonic states before they rose as a unified empire ready to last a millenium. Disharmonic creatures roamed both sea and sky, remnants of an age twisted by an amalgamous creature born from chaos and destruction. I saw the northern lands cannibalize themselves due to paranoia, fear, and disharmony as their lands succumbed to crushing ice. I saw the distant future and the lands blanketed in ash and dust.
I finally discovered the secrets I had longed for within my nightly research and writings. Across the gulf of stars and limitless vacuums in between, there existed a race of creatures that feed on memory. It is hard to describe their nature in conventional terms. They were reported as the dregs of a creature far more grand and terrible than anything ever known. Legend stated that at the center of the infinite cosmos is a primordial chaos, born from the fires of creation, that could crush the ancient draconequus Discord with its belligerence. Over the course of time immemorial, before there existed such things like time and space and matter, the mad god at the heart of eternity had shed fragments of itself over the infinite rotation of the void of space. These fragments grew into these Shadow Lords that I knew, parasites that feasted on others.
My discoveries were halted by my rise to consciousness. I was still not gifted with enough information. Why me? Why could only I see these creatures? Why did they haunt my every waking day?
I had awoken Pine Breeze with my unconscious thrashing. His eyes were bloodshot and tired. It had not been the first time my panic had awoken my mate. I could see it in his eyes, the weary resignation and regret at ever desiring a relationship with me. Two thoughts passed through my mind. The first was contentment, and the second was rage. I remembered the walks through the park, the dates at the local restaurants, and the nights of passion. Our time was masked by my constant worry of shadows and forbidden knowledge from the Ancient Ones’ archive, but that did not stop my feelings. I loved every moment with my stallion. Despite Ponyville’s isolation, despite the companionship I had achieved with my neighbors, I had never felt alone, until I had met Pine Breeze and had to be removed from his presence for whatever the reason; then I knew what true loneliness was. I missed him when he was gone.
I didn’t want to lose that, but seeing that pain on his face caused something in me to snap. I could tell he regretted dating me. I knew it. Who would want to date a carpenter anyway? As soon as the words touched my tongue, I could not hope to stem the flow of anger and bile. I lashed out at him, accusing him of not being supportive, of mocking me behind my back like the rest of town. In the few months since the Summer Sun Celebration, I had been reduced from a notable carpenter to the town laughing stock. The tension had grown on my mind. Why didn’t they believe me? What did I have to gain from lying?
By now, the entire town knew of my instability. I was shunned like a leper. Why didn’t Pine Breeze believe me? Why didn’t anypony believe me?
Pine Breeze returned my hostility with equal fervor. I knew I was angered. I knew I was unfair, but I dared not hope to dispel the rage. It was the first true time I felt in control of something in months. We exchanged words, threats. Before I could counter, he gathered a pillow and blanket and moved out to the adjacent room. The door slammed, no doubt awakening the neighbors.
Hot and vibrant, my anger stewed and did not allow me to sleep for the rest of the night. I did not enter the spare bedroom lest Pine Breeze was asleep or his anger had not cooled. I knew he did not deserve my spout of cruelty, and he certainly did not deserve the shadow monster stalking his every move.
I searched for him in the morning, but he managed to sneak out from under my open ears. It was for the best; we both needed a moment away from each other, but that did not lessen the chill of an empty bed. His earthy scent was still present on the sheets. I gathered them, inhaling the scent as if it were my last breath. I didn’t deserve him. If there was anything left in my power, it was to remove the madness from his life. I needed to protect him, even if it meant I needed to protect him from myself.
My walk to town was troublesome and exhausting. It was not the only night where sleep deprivation plagued me, and I was certain it was not the last. Some ponies were contorted in painfully hellish manners. I saw Rainbow Dash with her flawless wings crushed and bent around her throat. Another unicorn changed eye color. Unassuming enough, but both her cutie mark and horn were painfully mutilated. I shut my eyes to drown out the torment, but that did not stop the shadows from watching me. My own shadow was never tainted with their presence, but their numbers grew with every passing week. Soon enough, every pony in town would have them. I did not know how long it would take. I didn’t want to find out. I just wanted to finish my errands and return to sleep to finish my research.
The food vendor smiled, but in laughter rather than welcoming. The lingering memories of my argument with Pine Breeze surfaced and I glared at him. It must have been far more vicious than I thought, for he took a step back and stumbled. Only then did I notice that the shadow haunting him had an extra leg.
The local sweet shop was last on my list, for it would be the first item I would drop if I did not have the proper funds to cover my expenses. My lonely trek stopped just outside. The candymaker’s niece with the bloody-red hair normally played outside the shop with her friends, yet her presence was strangely absent. An oddity, as the child would plead with her aunt to give her friends candies. I had yet to see a child deny such a tempting offer.
Walking inside, I placed my order and inquired about the fillies inexplicable absence. The candymaker looked at me, perplexed. She was one of the few that did her best to not judge me on my mania alone. For that I was grateful and did my best to control my outbursts whenever I saw her body broken and mutilated.
To my everlasting shock and horror, the candymaker proclaimed that she never had a niece. My mind halted in shock and refused to believe what I had just heard. Surely I had misunderstood something. I began to describe her in detail. Little filly, large mass of copper curls, and a recently acquired cutie mark of dual candy canes. My description fell on deaf ears. She truly did not remember the disappearance of her own flesh and blood.
I dropped my bags and left without taking my purchase. The monsters had been content with silently butchering ponies and reassembling them in their own horrific constructs. What compelled them? What impulse drove them to such things? Why now had they taken one of our numbers without a trace? I needed answers. I needed to sleep. The Ancient Ones held the key to stop them. I knew it. They had to.
I dared not contemplate the consequences if they didn’t.
The local zebra herbalist carried with her home brewed concoctions and dark elixirs of foreign and arcane design. I required a sleep aid, something that would force me to sleep for a long time in order to grant me enough time to study these beasts. The zebra protested the sudden seige of her most private abode and my assurance that my presence was only business did little to soothe her worries. I must have looked awful with my unkempt mane and bloodshot eyes. Surely my reputation as the town pariah had spread to her home in the forest. It did not stop the demon clinging to her shadow as it raked a ghastly set of talons across her flanks. Streams of red dripped to the floor while she stood utterly oblivious. Oh Celestia, they were growing stronger.
I could see the worry and fear in her eyes as I exited with an herbal tea mixture. I had no time to give her the pleasantries. I had to stop them from killing us, from spiriting us away to whatever eldritch domain that dear filly now resided.
My room was as dark as I could possibly make it when I returned. Light-cast shadows had sharp edges, just like the monsters. It was a gut feeling completely unsupported by my research, but I felt that having complete darkness could make it harder for them to find me. Shadows have edges in the light. Maybe, just maybe, they might not find me so easily in the dark. I progressed to my bed by memory alone. I could hear scratching in the walls. I knew we didn’t have mice.
Scratch Scratch Scratch.
The dream came just as expected and I began my work in earnest. Other Ancient Ones normally stuck to themselves. It was a comforting sentiment, as I did not wish to be disturbed. What did discomfort me was the relative ease I could maneuver in the large, bulky body as if it were my own. Those thoughts weren’t important. I needed to focus.
It’s becoming harder to think. The pen keeps slipping in my grasp.
One record was all it took. Lodged in the deeper recesses of the monolithic tower’s archive was a week’s worth of manuscripts developed by an upper class mare. She discussed the wonderful and fantastic life of the premodern state and how she used the knowledge in the Ancient One’s archive to drive her country into unparalleled prosperity and affluence. I know not what happened in the real world, but the tone of her last entry was a radical dissonant compared to the eloquent and well-spoken dignitary. Her sleep was abruptly shattered as something leached into her unconscious mind.
To my horror, I knew what caused the source of our mutual pain. A shadow creature had taken this mare, but she resisted. She contained the mental acuity and raw force of will in order to recognize the monster residing in her heart.
A great chill coursed up my spine for I knew who this mare was: Princess Luna, in her youth. The fight to expel the creature had driven her mad and corrupted her soul. The Elements did not expunge the darkness in her heart, only exorcised the demon within. Fractured. Fractured, into dozens, if not hundreds of pieces. One for every pony in town.
Except for me. I was the only one who knew the truth. My research became frantic. I needed something to remove these parasites. The knowledge was coming easier now that I had been spending eight hours among the books, screens, and recollections every night. It was naught but a hope, but I discovered a ritual in the archives. I looked it over quickly, the wanderer who created it had crafted it to be simple, if time-consuming.
I spent the rest of my time memorizing the reagents and necessary procedures. I awoke faced with Pine Breeze, Zecora, two doctors, and a local constable.
“Oh, thank Celestia. You’re awake! I feared the worst after Zecora came and told me.” He embraced me, but my mind was working as fast as possible to correct the Element’s mistake. It is impossible for the Elements to destroy, only to reduce, to fragment a threat into more manageable pieces. Not one monster, but lots. Weaker, yes, but monsters nevertheless.
I managed to shrug him off and stand on my own before a wave of vertigo brought me to my knees. Zecora’s concoction did its duty, even if I did make it necessarily stronger beyond safety levels.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Almost two days.” I could feel his grip return. He didn’t want to let me go. “Listen... I’ve brought some doctors here.”
“To see if I’m crazy?” Galled, I was. It was back to the preposterous assumption that I was crazy. No. NO. I was right! The Ancient Ones were real. The Chaos was real! The Shadow Lords were real! It was my turn to save Equestria! I was the only one who could!
Pine Breeze had come to know me too well and tightened his grip. I don’t know how he divined my thoughts, but it brought a tear to my eye to know that he cared enough for me in these moments to try and act for my benefit, as erroneous as it was. Nevertheless, I swore an oath to not involve him anymore. That did not stop him pleading his case.
“No! Please, listen! You’re sick. Let me help you! We can make this work!” The pain in his voice rent my heart in two. Oh, Celestia, he loved me. He really did. The tears in his face, the scrunched lines that appeared whenever he furrowed his brow, the choking voice. I loved him every bit as dearly. I reciprocated his feelings with every fiber of my being. If any bard, herald, or unassuming civilian ever sees these pages, know this one fact: I loved him enough that I had to hurt him.
With a surprising burst of strength I wasn’t certain I still possessed, I shoved him off me. The shock and pain on his face tore me in two, but I shoved the pain in a corner for now. I needed to act, to banish the Shadow Lords forever from these lands. I heard the pained gasp as he hit the floor and the constable advanced. I dared not give him time to use his magic. A well-placed throw of my clock disabled the lights. I was used to the darkness, as much as it chilled me. I saw the Shadow Lords flicker and vanish, silently flailing in orgasmic laughter at my torment.
I knew my room in the dark well enough and could therefore evade my pursuers. I barred the door once I made my escape. It would not hold for long, but long enough. I needed to get to Twilight. The Elements of Magic was at the epicenter of it all, the host to the first shadow fragment of Lady Luna’s soul. She had to be a host as well, and even if she wasn’t, I might need her and her friend’s help, or at least warn them of the danger of using the Elements on such creatures. I needed them to warn Celestia, to warn Luna.
Many long hours over tomes, screens, and experiments among the Ancient Ones let me memorize certain scents and items, and most if not all of what I needed was in Twilight’s basement laboratory. I just prayed that the wanderer was right, for if he was not, I had just committed a grievous sin against the one who loved me for no justifiable cause. He was right. I was right. I had to be right. I had gambled everything on this last, insane venture.
I knocked on the door and picked up a porcelain vase in my hooves. As the door opened, I crashed the vase down on Twilight’s skull with as much force as I could muster. Unicorn skulls are very thick, so I wasn’t worried about causing irreparable harm. I didn’t have the time to explain what needed to be said, as I knew she wouldn’t believe me until the ritual was complete.
Her body dropped to the floor with a meaty thud. She kicked a few limbs pitifully as blood slowly pooled from a wicked gash on her temple. I dragged her inside and closed the door. It was time for my work to begin.
My steps grew heavier with every step towards the oaken door in the back of the great tree. Darkness hugged the corners, a morbid promise of what was about to occur. I looked down at Twilight as I dragged her to the door. Crimson trailed us. What determination I had momentarily cracked before steeling itself. I couldn’t have the poor dear suffer from blood loss even if her skull remained intact. My shoddy patchjob cut from the drapes wasn’t ideal, but it would hold and stem the flow until I was done. The Shadow Lord within Twilight’s silhouette thrashed and screamed silently at me.
“I am here to kill you.”
The words, however true, seemed to come from the lips of a mare hardened by battle, blood, and steel rather than the strength of her back and the effort to wield tools. What was I becoming?
It didn’t matter. I turned the doorknob. The metal clicked, but I could not help but shiver as the cold brass knob felt like the kiss of death. It was dark enough to blind me, but I did not need the light to see. The Shadow Lord disappeared within the darkness as I heaved Twilight onto my back and barricaded the door. It would only be a matter of time until I was discovered, but that was not a secession of my will to fight. I was not going to make it easy if the authorities discovered my location. I floundered in the dark until I found a chair to secure Twilight in. I wanted something more but I was awfully pressed for time. I did not know how long I had. I was not even assured that hiding in the darkness would prove fruitful. I just had to believe.
My reagents and materials took time to find. I risked lighting a candle, but made certain the light was hidden from my captive in order to prevent the Shadow Lord’s hold. A silver dagger used for cutting roots, one lodestone, a bowl of water, a candle for fire, sand for earth, and a balloon for wind.
So simple... Why was I so afraid?
I could feel the air thrumming against my ears. Twilight’s labored breathing assured me of her incapacitated stupor. I was drawn to the meager light of the candle. Shadows danced in impossible archs, reflections of impossible monstrosities and demons from before time was in its infancy. I dropped my materials, horrified at the sights. Their majesty spread further into the night in a mad dance of glee. I saw what looked like fanged maws screaming insults and jeers at me. The room was dreadfully quiet and that only seemed to exacerbate the horror.
I snuffed the candle out with a hoof. Heat and hot wax scorched my fur. They knew what I was doing. I had to act fast, but I still needed that light in order to finish.
“Uuughh....” The moan bespoke the pain I had caused. I sensed Twilight shift in the dark with a lame attempt to rediscover her surroundings. I did not wish to give her the chance, but I was out of things to hit her with, and out of time. I needed to start the ritual and fast.
A candle for the setting sun, a balloon for the eastern winds, an offering of sand to the northern plains, a bowl of water for the oceans to the south. A lodestone for magnetic north, hardly eloquent, but a necessary ingredient in discovering magical leylines.
The candlelight brought forth the Shadow Lords once again. I could hear them now. Their forgotten tongue, once a low white noise to my ears had risen by magnitudes. Laughing, crying. It was such a sweet music that put even though most synchronized harmony orchestrated by the most noble Seraphim to shame, only it was contaminated by languages mortals were not meant to hear. My brain screamed in protest against the agony and burden of knowledge.
I thrust the knife into my leg. The shock of pain drowned out the voices’ crazed chanting. My blood dripped onto the floor and the soul-piercing scream from my throat forced Twilight to consciousness. I must have looked like a demon to her with my eyes angry and watery while bleeding from a self-inflicted wound.
My hoof went to her mouth to stop the coming scream. “I’m not going to kill you Twilight, but I can’t have you stop me, either.”
Her eyes struggled to process what she was seeing and what I had said. Her gaze swept the floor and caught my offerings to the elements of the land. Then she saw the silver knife and my blood. I could see the gears winding in her head. I am an Earth Pony, incapable of conventional magic, but the power of rituals was still in my capabilities.
Her eyes grew to the size of saucers as I bent down and began scripting text in my own life blood. “Blood magic! That’s forbidden! Illegal by just about every house of law on the planet and Celestia herself!” Her voice broke off into a hiss and she closed her eyes in pain. Her horn sputtered and died as she tried to summon some manner of spell to help.
“I didn’t like it when you came to town.” Once the words crossed my mind, I couldn’t stop them. The horrible din that had pushed to the corners of my mind with my mutilation had crested and retreated. The brief respite I has earned was fading fast. I too winced in an effort to push the howling away and focus on my word. Stroke by stroke, I continued. Blood, a sacrifice, the ultimate price to be paid.
Well, there was one other. I prayed I needed not do so.
“I thought you would upset what I held dear, but you started to fit in with the rest of us. In fact, without you I don’t think I would have ever grown to love Pine Breeze.” Twilight watched me work with morbid fascination. Her hooves were securely tied, so unless she could focus, her magic was neutralized. Good.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I reassured the poor mare. She was as wounded as I was, but my mind was far too fragmented to save. “After you beat her, something... happened to me. Perhaps I am mad. I don’t know, but I do know I can stop them. Stop what the Elements did wrong. I can make this right, with your help.”
Word by word in a language as old as mountains scratched into the floor with my own strength. Shadows danced and screamed. One of us was going to die by dawn. “Listen, blood magic is uncontrollable and primal. Unpredictable. I can’t read these runes, but if you don’t know what you are doing, the spell will fail and your soul will burn. I don’t know what you think – “
“I think I am the only one capable of stopping the monsters you can’t see,” I interrupted.
The mare was not done. She hissed and moaned before countering, trying desperately to buy time. “What happened? Please talk to me. I’ll listen! Aah!” she shouted as the tempo of her voice brought pain to her ears.
It was for the best. I couldn’t be anymore distracted. Their words had returned to me again. Chaos from the dawn of time. I was so tired from body and mind. I wanted to sleep and succumb to the misery that had been ever-present ever since this horrible ordeal began. The dagger in my hooves was cold to the touch. Something so small was so incredibly heavy. Just one cut across my own throat could end it all and I would be freed from my pain.
I thought of Pine Breeze and the happiness he had given me, however tainted by my madness. It was the closest I had ever gotten to being truly content in the world. “I would have had everything if it wasn’t for them!” I made another cut into my leg, this one measured and not quite so deep. Blood spilled onto the floor and I continued writing on the floor, walls, Twilight, and even myself.
“I could have been happy!”
Cut.
“But they keep hurting everyone!”
Cut.
“I have to stop them!”
Cut.
The circle was complete, and the spell had taken effect. Twilight shouted something incoherent over the noise inside my head. One more cut, one more offering of blood to purge my target. I held up the blade and cut, marking a final rune on Twilight’s brow.
“AND THEY WON’T STOP SCREAMING!”
Twilight’s horn flashed.
Nurse Sweetheart quietly closed the door, turned her key to lock it, and peered through the window cut into the door. A lone mare was softly snoring on the newly cleaned linen sheets. She gave a sad, forlorn smile before clattering to the floor on all fours.
“She’s asleep, Stable.”
Stable, a unicorn with warm cream-colored fur and eyes, sighed. “Thank you for finding this. It’s relatively harmless in of itself, but I’d much rather not have accidents happen.” A small notepad with several sheets of yellow pages hung in his magical grip. Several edges were torn and spittle stained the first page after Patient 101 had drooled in her sleep. She had somehow smuggled in a pen and had begun rapidly doodling earlier in the day. He looked at the first page, wondering what could the poor mare possibly had time to write in her frantic delusions.
Stable sighed once again and handed the notepad and pen back. “Put this in secure storage, nurse.”
Sweetheart clutched the notepad and pen as if it were her firstborn. “Doctor... you know how badly she gets upset when she thinks we are being unfair to her.”
The doctor shook his head in a manner that bespoke many similar conversations before. “Now, now, nopony is allowed any leeway or unauthorized personal effects. None. You remember the last time. This is for their own safety and its irresponsible of us to give them a means to hurt themselves. Even if it is unintentional and well-intentioned.”
She cringed and fluid built up around the corner of her eyes. Once more she rose upon her hind legs and peered through the glass window separating the pair from the sleeping mare. Her mane was wild and unkempt. She’d have to make an appointment to give her mane and coat a thorough brushing and cleaning. Her aquamarine locks, tinged gray to give the added distinguished aura, fell across her face. “She just seems so lonely. That stallion still visits her, but...”
Stable ‘tsked’ and said, “Put it in the crafts center for now, but lock it up. We’ll see how she reacts for the rest of the month and decide then. With a little luck, she’ll prove more docile. At least she hasn’t tried to hurt herself while in custody.”
Nevertheless, Stable’s own cool mask of professionalism slipped and his face became a potent cocktail of pity and remorse. “It is fortunate that Miss Sparkle survived her ordeal with minimal injuries. I only wish we could speak to the patient and get her own input. Has she spoken?”
“Nothing that we can understand, doctor. No one knows what happened, except that she sprung from her sleep madder than Discord. Whatever ritual she had attempted backfired as Miss Sparkle attempted a counterspell and destroyed the ritual circle. She’s incoherent now. The lights are on, but no one is home...”
With one last look through the door, the doctor walked down the empty hallway back towards his office. Sweetheart spared a few more moments with her patient before returning to finish her own pressing duties. On the far side of the hallway was a metal panel with several key holes. Removing her own keyring, she inserted into a slot and twisted. The flickering fluorescent lights dimmed in order to conserve power over the uneventful nights. It was not as if anypony in the psych ward was going to be going anywhere while locked in their cells.
Patient 101 stirred to consciousness as the square of light shining on her face suddenly dimmed without notice. Shaking off the dregs of sleep that still clung heavily to her mind, her legs searched her bed for something. She couldn’t have been asleep for long, after all.
The mare panicked. It was gone. Her notepad was gone. Nonsensical babble dripped from her mouth. She leaned over the bed to check if it had fallen off. Moonlight streamed in through the window just above her bed, the bars stretching across it an eternal reminder of where she was. The moon was as full as a ripened tomato and spilled light across the concrete floor. It was plenty of light to search, just as it was plenty of light to write.
Neither currently mattered to Patient 101. Her body had frozen in shock and horror at some unseen monstrosity in her own deluded mind. As slow as she could possibly move, she returned her full weight on the bed and backed up against the enclosure. Her bed was flush against the wall, providing her back with stout and comforting protection. It was not enough. The mare curled into a ball and began to nicker and moan so softly one would be hard pressed to hear her even in the small, echoic room. Her earlier distress had been reduced to absolute terror as she stared at her own shadow cast from the soft moonlight.
We all have the power to destroy. We all have the power to save. Nothing is easier than destroying yourself. Nothing is harder than saving yourself.
- Clover the Clever
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Edited by: Softy8088, Genesis1212
Prereader: Skeeter the Lurker, Reader Review
