Promethea: Ponified

Promethea

Being an Epicke on the Realms of Fantasie in the words of Charlton Hennet, privately imprinted in the City of Boston, entytled
A Faerie Romance

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Chapter 4

An old epic is illuminated,
A sly mage encountered,
A search for answers begins.

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South Tower Hospital. Ponyville, 1999 A.D.:

"I don't understand his. Why is her body rejecting the grafted Clone tissue? It should be exactly the same as her own."

Nurse Redheart looked up from her work, syringe in hoof. The nurse across from her was looking at the area where she'd grafted on the Clonemeat, which was swollen and blue. The makeshift flesh did not seem to want to attach to Zecora's, and the zebra was sweating profusely under the influence of several doses of sleeping medication. She was hesitant to take the medicine, but after braving the first graft she'd gulped down the medicine, and was now knocked out cold.

Nurse Redheart looked back down at the pale zebra, and readied her syringe. "I'm going to have to give her antibiotics to check the rejection process..."

The other nurse looked up at her worriedly. "That's going to boost the risk of infection..."

Nurse Redheart shrugged her off, and injected a green fluid into the zebra's foreleg. "We don't have a choice. If her body continues to reject itself, Zecora is dead." The two continued their work in silence for a minute, unaware that they were under observation.

"Hmmph. Well, I gotta say, this don't look too friggin' good."

Zecora looked at her front hooves, and saw she was see-through. She looked back up at the nurses, who were beginning to reattach the Clonemeat onto her wound, and said, "In fact, this looks friggin' awful. I wonder what the girls have to say about it?" She turned away, and only half-listened to the conversation between the two nurses nearby.

"But... Look, I don't know, there was that funny black infection in the wound when she was brought in..."

"Yes, but the infection vanished. I mean, it didn't clear up, it just... I don't know. Evaporated or something. Like it was never there..."

Zecora moved around the hospital room, searching for something she knew she could find. Finally she saw it: a door that had not been part of the room before. She approached it, and opened it up. Her immaterial body felt the breeze of its home brush through her mane.

"Maybe I oughtta go ask 'em. I haven't been across to visit in a while..."

She stepped through the doorway.

"...but I guess I still know the way."

She was no longer a spiritual projection, and she was no longer in the hospital. Now she stood in a blue-grass meadow, where a soft breeze blew flower petals in the sky. She watched eyeball clouds move across the sky, and turned at the sound of a voice.

"Zecora. We were wondering when you'd show up. Do close the door. You're letting in the awful smell of antiseptic..."

The voice came from a godly mare, not unlike how Rarity had looked as Promethea, and not unlike how Zecora looked now. She wore a lightweight armor plate, and around her waist was a belt, on which a sword was sheathed. She wore a cloth over her head, held in place by a golden band around it. Her legs were covered by plates of bronze, and she wore sandals on her back hooves. Two pearly wings ruffled in the breeze behind her, and they moved with the wind. She was standing next to several other mares, each with their own godly stature.

Zecora shut the door behind her, and stepped over to the mares. "Sorry," she said, glad for the break in her rhymes that being Promethea always gave her. "Hi Grace. Hi Margaret, Anna, Bill. Hi, Margie. Boy, I'll tellya, have I had a rough night!"

The group of mares sat around a large lavender pool, and each held a chalice in their hooves. One mare floated beside Grace, staying in mid-air despite her being a unicorn. She wore nothing, save a thin, flowing cloth that spiraled around her body, covering what it needed to. On her head was a helmet of war, positioned on top of her head without covering her face. Underneath her sat a little filly, one who looked more like a comic book character than a real pony. She smiled playfully at Zecora and waved before turning her attention back to the doll she had playing with.

Next to Margaret lay a mare who wore a more covering outfit. She wore a night gown, trimmed up to her hips, and a golden brace around her stomach. She wore stockings on her hooves, and her magic held her chalice up to her lips as she took a sip of whatever was inside. Along with the stockings, two long hoofboots were worn on her hind legs. She had on a small tiara, made of what appeared to be gold. The mare raised her cup in greeting to the zebra.

Past her sat a mare unlike the others around her. She seemed more humble, with only a long cloth wrapped around the necessarily covered areas. This one, unlike Margaret's, was limply laid across her body, and she had no flashy golden plates on her body. Her only jewelry were several braids in her hair, mere stars in a waterfall of dark mane. On her left cheek was a tattoo of an ankh. She made no movement of greeting, but smiled at Zecora.

Zecora recapped the events of her night. "First, there's this new Promethea with a teenage handler, then I get in a slapping match with a Smee, and now I think I'm dying."

Grace Branniegh sighed, and offered a spare chalice to her. "You poor darling. Have Hareball and Meadowsweet fix you a drink and then you can tell us all about it." She spoke in a slightly Whinnglish accent that made her voice sound almost identical to Rarity's. "What's the new girl like?" She grinned. "Flat chested and neurotic, I'll bet."

Zecora took the cup in one hoof and laughed as two glowing fairies flew down with an urn and poured a dark pink liquid into it. Moons and stars fell with the liquid, and Zecora ignored them as they sank into the drink. "Uh, well, yeah, pretty much," she said, and stepped over towards the pool in the center of the clearing. "But I'll tellya, Grace, she's good when she gets into character. She just about vaporized that Smee." She took a sip of the drink, and stared at it in surprise. She took another sip, shrugged, and turned back to the other immaterial mares.

The mare lying down in the grass sat up, and said, "Oh, Zecora, honey, Grace was just being catty. We're sure she's fabulous."

Margaret Haylor Case gently levitated downward, and hovered over to Zecora, still keeping her hooves off the ground. "Bill," she said, "You think everything's fabulous. So, Zecora, does this new vessel have a name?"

Zecora nodded, sipping her drink again. "Yeah. Her name's Rarity. She's this young, hip fashion designer, and the whole reason she got sucked into this thing is because of her friend, this college kid named Spike. I'm just afraid I'm gonna croak before I've shown her the ropes." She sipped her drink again, and said, "Say, this is pretty good. What is it?"

Grace turned to her. "It's a liqueur made from moonlight and cream of chameleon. Anna imagined it into existence the other day, didn't you darling?" She turned to the humbly dressed mare, who was bent over the pool now, stirring the lavender waters with her hoof.

Anna nodded. "That I did, Mistress Grace." The waters in the pool swirled, and she said, "This new lass sounds to be as young as I. We should look in the Star Pool and see how she fares." The waters began to show a picture, and the filly standing next to her put a hand over her mouth. When she spoke, it sounded as though she had only just learned to speak.

"oh. you are being nosey. this is a fine thing, i do not think! oh!"

William Woolcolt stood up and walked over to the pool. She stopped next to the filly and said, "Shut up, Margie. Can you see anything, Anna?" As she spoke, Little Margie stepped back once and bowed her head.

Anna pointed into the pool, where a picture was beginning to clarify. "Mayhap I can, Mistress Bill. As it grew in focus, the five mares (and Margie) could see two mares lying in a large bed. One was a brilliant white unicorn, with long purple locks of hair splayed all across her face. She lay spread out across the bed, and was facing the other mare next to her. This one was a pegasus, colored like the sky, and had a rainbow-colored mane, with matching tail. She was curled into a ball, and her face was mere inches from the unicorn's. Anna pointed at the unicorn.

"Is that the girl you spoke of, Mistress Zecora?"

Zecora looked over Anna's shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, that's her. Last night she handled one Smee, two Goetic demons, and a rescue from the Immateria. Guess she's sleeping it off."

Margaret looked worriedly at the slumbering mares in the pool. "So, is that mare her companion, the college student? Spike, correct?" She appeared to be anticipating a certain answer, and Zecora gave it to her.

"Nah. Spike's a guy. Dragon, I mean. I don't know who that is... wait. That's who she rescued last night. Rainbow Dash. It's gotta be."

Grace spoke up. "She only fought two Goetic demons? Darling, that's nothing."

Bill silenced her with a hoof to her lips. "Shush, Grace. Let's see what she does..."

The five stared into the pool, and events played out for them as clear as though they were there.

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Rarity felt a hoof on her waist. She rolled over in bed, and opened her eyes at the exact moment that Rainbow Dash did. The two briefly lay still, groggy and unsure of the world around them. Then they noticed the positions they were in.

"EUGGHH!"

The two pushed each other away, and they fell off of the unfamiliar bed. Slowly pulling themselves up, Rarity and Rainbow Dash looked at each other menacingly from opposite sides of the bed. Rainbow Dash finally stood up and stretched her wings out.

"God, you are totally an enormous filly-fooler," she said, looking around for the blazer she'd worn the night before.

Rarity rolled her eyes. "Oh, you wish, dear." She raised a hoof to her mane, and her eyes shot open wide when she felt its uneven bunches and tangles. Her eye twitched, and she began to frantically look around the room for her styling equipment. It was at that moment that both of the mares noticed that they were not in Rarity's home. In fact, they were in a room that neither of them recognized. They looked up and down, and saw nothing that could give them a hint as to where they were until they noticed the purple form lying flat at the foot of the bed.

Rainbow Dash trotted over to Spike, while Rarity tried to fix her hair desperately. The cyan pegasus pushed her hoof in his face, and he stirred, when he didn't wake up, she turned around and lifted her tail up. For a moment, Rarity thought that Dash was going to sit on his face. Then she saw the rainbow tail crack down a centimeter away from his face, and the purple drake's eyes shot open. With a yelp, he forced himself away from the mare, puffing several blasts of smoke in a panic. When he saw the look on the mares' faces, he growled at them. In a deadpan voice, he said, "Ha ha. Let's see if I ever help you while you’re unconscious again."

Rarity turned to him, confused by what he'd said. "Spike, dear, what do you mean? My head is full of pop rocks right now. Do you remember what happened last night?" She looked around nervously, and caught sight of herself in a nearby mirror. She winced, and said, "While you're at it, would you mind telling me where the restroom is?"

Spike rubbed his spines, and noticed he was still holding the pen Zecora gave him. He yawned, and said, "Yeah." He yawned again, and Rainbow Dash butted in.

"You're Propellea. Holy cow, Rarity."

Spike grimaced at the mispronunciation of her name. "'Promethea.' But yeah, holy cow, Rarity. You were amazing. I was lucky enough to get brought back home, and when I found you guys you changed back. You fell unconscious, and I brought you up to our apartment. I set you up in the guest bedroom, and then..." He looked around the room, noticing its untouched look. "...I guess I fell asleep, too. Jeez, last night was a blur. Y'know, I woke up with this pen in my hand? The one Zecora gave me?" He stretched, and pointed to one of several doors leading out of the room. "Bathroom's over there."

Rarity zipped past him, threw open the door, and slammed it behind her as she ran up to the mirror. Rainbow Dash laughed and said, "C'mon. Let's go get breakfast." She trotted over to the other door, and Spike followed behind her, letting Rarity attend to whatever business she had with the bathroom. He opened the door just as a purple unicorn rounded the corner, levitating a plate with two cups of coffee on it.

Twilight Sparkle looked up, her eyes groggy and still full of sleep. "Urrgh. Morning Spike," she said. Her face became even darker when she saw who he was with. "Oh, and your little pal. What time did you two get in last night?" She seemed to not care that they'd just come out of the guest bedroom together and that Rainbow Dash was loosely wearing a blazer as her only cover.

Spike smiled automatically at her. "Three. Rarity's here too." No response. He coughed, and said, " We got in about an hour before you did." he looked at the floating tray. "Are both those coffees for you?"

Rainbow Dash grinned mockingly at the lavender mare in matching bed robe. "Morning, Twi. You look great."

Twilight turned to look at the cyan pegasus, purple locks of hair splaying messily across her face. "Drop dead, you little moron." She moved over to her bedroom door, and the knob glowed bright purple. "Spike, my coffee's none of your business, okay?"

Rainbow Dash stifled a laugh as Twilight opened the door a crack and the sound of a colt's voice from the other side called out. "Hey, Trixie, where's that coffee?"

Twilight scowled, and said, "It's "Twilight," and I've got it here Seth, you jerk. For the love of Celestia..." She slipped inside the room, and the pegasus and drake were left to their own devices.

Spike moved into the kitchen, slightly depressed by the encounter with his surrogate mother. He and Twilight had grown extremely distant though they lived in the same apartment. Twilight had gown "rather attached to the nature of alcohol" as Rarity had put it, and now she seemed to be bringing home a new colt every week. He sighed, and Rainbow Dash tried poorly to help him.

"Y'know, Spike, your "Mom" is a vast whore. I sort of admire her..." She trailed off at the sight of Spike shooting her daggers. He'd given up on trying to figure out how somepony who had been one of Twilight's best friends several years ago was now able to insult her like she was an enemy long ago, but Dash's words still managed to anger him to an extent every once in a while, and for that Dash was kept away from Twilight. Not that she minded.

"Yeah, whatever." Spike turned back to the kitchen counter and brought out a box of cereal. He began pouring some into a bowl, and he heard Rarity coming out of the bathroom. Looking up, he was amazed at how effortlessly she put her hair into its iconic style. Not wanting to talk about Twilight with Rarity any more than he wanted to with Dash, he quickly changed the subject.

"This Promethea business is scaring me, Dash. I have to find out more about it."

Rainbow Dash noticed Rarity entering the room, and grabbed the box of cereal from Spike's hands. "That'll make things more..." She paused as she poured her cereal into a bowl. Rarity sat down at the table, tuning into the conversation taking place. "...I dunno. More real. We oughtta just forget anything happened..."

Spike shook his head and sat down next to Rarity with his bowl. "There's real… things… trying to kill Rarity and me, Dash. Others before me have coped with this." He turned to Rarity, who had been staring at him since he'd mentioned being killed. "You gotta be like them," he said, and she shook her head, unbelieving.

"What," she said, pushing away the cereal box as Rainbow Dash sat down, "you mean dead?"

Spike put a hand on her hoof comfortingly. "I'm serious. We'll finish breakfast, then go to the library. I can maybe find more material on Charlton Hennet and those guys..." He turned back to his cereal, and began to eat. "Now, eat your Achocalypse Pops."

Rarity gagged at the sight of Spike eating the cereal, and got up to make some toast. "Not on your life, Spike..." she mumbled, and could have sworn she saw him smile as he ate.

Eventually, they finished their meals, and before Rarity had time to ask about the whereabouts of Spike's caretaker she was rushed out the door and out of the apartment complex. Dash hailed a cab, and the three stepped inside and headed towards Spike's old home.

"I had forgot just what a whirl and dazzle there is in the mortal world."

"And I like the way these girls are. They seem not so cowed by things as I once was."

Grace looked over at Anna, a sarcastic look on her face. "Anna, darling, back in your day, you'd be beaten if you answered back. These scatty little bits of fluff have had life rather easier..." She turned back towards the Star Pool.

The five Prometheas were watching Rarity, Dash and Spike as they made their way towards the library. The drake and pegasus were keeping themselves entertained by imitating their fellow college student's attitudes (Rainbow Dash unofficially won when she did a startlingly good impression of Applebloom and pretended to seduce Spike, at which point the dragon pushed her away and mumbled that he didn't want to play anymore). Rarity was staring out the window, a slightly depressed look on her face. Bill smiled down at the image of Spike looking over at Rarity with a concerned look on his face. "Well," she said, "I don't think this Spike character is 'scatty' at all. In fact, I think he's rather cute. And just look at the way he treats the new girl! I think he has a crush on her!" She giggled, and Grace rolled her eyes.

Margie gripped her doll. "oh! they are rude, that is for sure. yes. oh!"

Bill looked over at the character in annoyance. "Margie, why don't you just shut your little hole? I think Rarity is very sweet. She's..." The image of the three exiting the cab outside the library caught her attention, and she watched as Rainbow Dash headed towards a building labeled "Cafe Khaddaffi." "Oh, look, Miss Smart-Flank is going to get donuts."

Margaret sighed in relief. "Good. She got on my nerves."

Zecora peered over at the retreating form of the pegasus. "Yeah. I think that was Rainbow Dash, the one Rarity rescued from the Immateria." She watched as Spike and Rarity walked toward the library, making idle chit-chat as they went. "See how they head straight for the library, to check things out? It's that Spike kid. I toldja he was smart..."

Margaret watched the two enter the library. "He'll have to be more than smart, Zecora. We've notched up a great many enemies over the centuries. If he wants to protect this girl, he'll have to fight them with her. They'll all be gunning for them for her first few weeks, during her transition period, when she's at her most inexperienced." The image focused on Rarity as she split up from Spike, moving down an aisle of autobiographies while Spike looked down a comic books section, scanning for what the mares assumed was an issue of Promethea. "She's like a baby crab," Margaret continued, "fresh-hatched upon the tideline. She has to run for the safety of the ocean before the gulls get to her."

Rarity was now standing in front of a section of books, and her eyes scanned the shelf. Zecora turned to Bill, who was kneeling beside her, and said, "The Temple already tried twice. I wonder who'll be next? I mean, I thought maybe the Night Queen. She always gave you and me a hard time, Bill."

The kneeling mare scowled. "Oh, I'll say! That sulphurous slut got me killed, you know! Still, I hear she hardly leaves the underworld these days..." She watched Rarity's eyes light up at the sight of the book she'd been looking for, and with her magic she pulled it out of the shelf and moved over to a table. Margie, who was taking in the conversation between the mares very slowly, whispered, "hum! i do not like bad fairies. no sir! huh!"

Grace smiled down at the child. "Margie, darling, as much as we all love you, if you don't keep quiet, I shall disintegrate you." The figment was silenced, and Grace turned back to the Star Pool, observing the unicorn at the library table as she opened her book, which Grace almost instantly recognized. "Oh, look, Anna. It's your story the new girl's interested in."

The humble mare nodded somberly. "Aye. Aye, so it seems." She sniffled, and said, "I-I cannot say I like it when my tale is read. The pain of it is too fresh. My baby, and how she was took from me." Rarity opened the book, and Anna stared at the portrait on the inside of the first page. "And him. I loved him, sisters, that I did."

Her hand distilled the waters of the pool, gliding over the image of a handsome, stately stallion in a suit. A tear dripped off of Anna's cheek and fell into the pool as Rarity began to read the book.

"I loved him."

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I am alone. I stare into the table's woodgrain and dare not look up. I say the words once more. I am alone.

My wife has gone, my Emily.

So too has Anna gone, my mistress, and with her my muse, likewise departed. I shall say it yet again:

I am alone.

Today is New Year, first day of a bright new century I fear I am not long for.

More than twenty years ago, we came here when this place seemed full of hope.

Hope and Inspiration...

"Master Charlton?" Anna walked across the field, to where a colt was staring at a piece of parchment blankly. In one hoof was a quill, and the earth pony was twirling it around as he bit his lip in frustration. He looked up when his name was called again.

"Mistress Emily says I'm to call you for your supper, beg your pardon, sir, for interrupting." She spoke gently, as though one wrong word would bring about some unnoticeable force's wrath down upon her.

The colt shifted, and stood up. "Oh, don't you worry, Anna. You've not interrupted anything of consequence." He stretched, and looked down at the pages he'd dropped. "I'm fifty stanzas into this confounded piece, and nothing interesting has happened." He took the papers in his teeth, and he and Anna began walking back towards the house in the distance. She looked over at Charlton, and said, "Oh, do not say such things, sir! What you read to me about the shepherd boy fair tugged my heart."

Charlton smiled through the papers, and with expert clarity replied, "Why, bless you. Sadly, I'm having rather more difficulty imagining the fairies my poem's supposedly about." He turned, and his grin faltered at the sight of his wife standing impatiently outside. When she saw him and Anna approaching, she put on her best false smile.

"Ah, Charlton, there you are!" The three ponies entered the house, and Emily led them to the dining room table. "Look what a feast I've made for us!" She gestured proudly to the meal of many herbal dishes before them. Then her sarcastic smile returned, and she continued: "You're surely hungry after your hard work?"

Charlton scowled at his wife's disapproval. Sensing the coming argument, Anna backed out of the room, towards the kitchen. "I-I'll go and see the gravy doesn't burn..." She was ignored, and when she was gone Charlton said, "Emily, it may not look as if I'm doing much, but writing is hard work." He sat down with his wife, who had already sat herself at the table and begun serving herself. Anna walked in with the gravy, and neither of them noticed.

"I'm certain that it is..." Emily said, stabbing at a daisy with her fork. "...but surely one as practiced as yourself might do it with his eyes closed?" She looked up at him, and there was no smile on her face. "In fact, now I think of it, I'm sure I've often seen you work that way." She finally acknowledged Anna's presence, and said, "Anna, dear, would you pass the gravy?"

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Charlton slept. He had sat in the clearing for hours, thinking and imagining, but everything turned to dust when he thought of it. His fairies crawled at his heels, begging to be taken from his sickly mind, and he'd given up in a fit of anger. The pages lay in his lap, and he was bent into an awkward position against the tree he was laying back on. In the glow of the afternoon sun, Charlton Hennet slept.

Then to that diamond-beaded glade there came
A pageant throng of sweet imaginings,
Of Fairies, imps, and creatures without name,
A great, frenetic bustling of wings.

The clearing slipped into a cover of mist. Charlton's eye opened a crack, and he watched as several glowing forms emerged from the woods in front of him.

About their Queen four nymphs in waiting stood,
Girded in armor, each of beauty rare.
Cowslip, and Flax and Jenny-in-the-Wood...

The group moved through the clearing, and Charlton did not move. In the center was a grand being, clothed in fabrics unknown to the waking world. Behind her were four mare-like creatures, each radiating in their own beauty. The first three ignored him, each keeping close to their Queen. The fourth, however, looked directly at Charlton, and smiled. Her hair was in braids, and her pointed ears poked through the waterfall of it. Her eyes were surrounded in dark tattoos traced around her eyes in a familiar fashion. She wore only a robe and a golden necklace, and Charlton recognized her in a second.

...and sweet Promethea, with her plaited hair.

"Good day to you, Master Charlton," said Anna, and Charlton's eyes opened wide.

"UHWHAAA...?"

He looked up at the clearing, and saw that the fog was gone, as were the fairies that had passed through it. The memory lingered in his mind, though, and he stuttered out: "A-Anna?"

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June 7th, 1779:

Charlton kissed his wife goodbye. He watched the chariot go, and after staring at the horizon for a moment, he walked back into his house. Anna stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a platter in her hoofs, and she smiled at him.

"Well, Master Charlton, with Miss Emily away to see her parents in New Hampshire this next week, perhaps you'll get some work done."

He picked up a quill, and looked thoughtfully at the stanzas on the pages he'd written. "Actually, Anna, I've already made great progress..." He pointed the tip of his quill at Anna. "...and it's thanks to you."

Anna faltered, and the platter almost fell from her hooves. She looked up at Charlton, and stammered: T-To me? Why, sir, whatever do you mean?"

Charlton stood up on his hind legs in a poetic stance, and held the poem in front of his face. "Well," he said, "I've partly based the leading faerie upon you, after this sort of daydream that I had. Here, if you'd like, I'll read some to you."

She was ready to return.

Charlton turned to the fireplace and struck a pose as he recited:

Promethea, the shepherd understood, had with her glamours captivated him;
With lips, with skin like polished betel-wood,
With ocean eyes, where in a man might swim.

Her smile ethereal, magnificent, her lyric movements, her fragility...

She was beginning to show herself.

Her gentleness, her orchidaceous scent enraptured him, enslaved him utterly.

Phantasmagoria, made somehow real,
Yet delicate, perhaps to disappear
At his impetuous touch, his need to feel
Her summer-jasmine breath close to his ear.

She was there.

"Charlton..."

The earth pony turned.

There stood that which he had written into the world, and Celestia did not, could not know of her beauty, for she would surely have cast her out of the world, perhaps to the moon as Nightmare Moon had been. She radiated sapphires, and a distant smile was etched on her face as she raised her arms to him.

"More words."

"Words

bring me

through."

Unchained, the poet shepherd's tongue took flight.
Such verse and poesy from his lips there poured...

Charlton felt her hands circle his face. "A-Anna? I-Is it you?"

As might lend substance to this sulph of light,
Oh goad the very Heavens to applaud.

Her robe was gone.

"No."

She raised in realms of Fancy, had ne'er known
Another's flesh, nor that warm, mortal thrill
Of passion. How they loved! Each sigh and moan
Would halt the world, or bid all the time stand still.

Each kiss endured while mountains were to dust.
Whole lives passed 'twixt each measured bedboard creak.
So lost were they in their transcendant lust
That they knew not the hour, nor day...

Pages fluttered as the glow surrounded the lovers, and words flew from story into reality as they made love.

...nor week.

Emily scowled at the sight in the bedroom. She said nothing, and awaited their waking.

Embracing Heaven, Earth slips through our hands.
Worldly affairs fragment, and fall away...

Charlton ran after the chariot as it raced away. His wife had said nothing, only waited for him to wake. Anna stood in the doorway, and wondered whether or not he could love her now.

We reached that place which no man understands
Where reason falters, and blind love holds sway.

He held her in his arms, and imagined Emily. And of his muse.

Winter came quickly. Soon, spring was preparing to show its green face, but the world was still covered in a cloak of snow. From the house, moans of pain could be heard. There was a mare screaming, and no one to hear, save one.

Anna breathed heavily. She gripped the blankets around her desperately, and whimpered out, "M-Master Charlton? Was it ever...AAAA!" She looked over at him, eyes glazed over slightly from pain. "W-Was it ever me you loved? J-Just for a little...AAOOW...a little while?"

Charlton laid a hand on her bulging stomach. "H-Hush, Anna. The baby..."

She gripped his shoulder. "The baby. The baby's wrong. Y-You can't...AAOH...you can't...make children...with a story. Did you..." She looked into his eyes with such sincerity it scared him. "Did you love me?"

He could not answer. It would kill her. "A-Anna..."

She asked again. "Did you... AAAAA!" Her screams echoed through the house, and Charlton saw a low coming from between her legs. "NNAAAAAAAH!" She twisted in pain, and Charlton's eyes widened as he saw what was coming out of his lover.

"Anna, it's coming. Oh dear Luna, the baby. It's..." He stopped, as the glow intensified, and suddenly it came forth. But it was not a baby.

Anna let out one final scream that Charlton did not hear. He could only hear the cries of unspoken ideas, see the glow of brainstorms and inspirations, as the child that made its way into the world came out in a fury. The thing was not a pony, nor was it what Promethea had been. Charlton held it in his hoofs, and he whispered, "Oh Celestia. Anna... the baby, it's... it's not baby! It's only half real, Anna! It's..." He stopped, and the child fell apart in his hands. Blue mist floated out of the room as Charlton lowered his head towards Anna's, hearing no breathing, feeling no heartbeat. She was not with him anymore.

"Anna?"

I only made one grave, which some found queer, but there was only Anna to be buried.

After all, we did not have a child. Rather, we had the dream of one...

...and that dream, why, it vanished. Melted quite away.

Save for these wretched, ill-kept journals, I have written not a word since then. My muse. My muse is gone.

I see the fairies only when I drink now, which is all the time. My love is not amongst them.

It was not Anna that I loved. It was the fantasy I'd spun about her.

Now that fantasy had fled, I sometimes doubt it ever truly happened, and was not instead some dream of mine.

But things are ever thus with faeries...

...and romance.

I am alone.

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The library was in darkness. No one was there, save two. Rarity did not notice, absorbed in the tragic tale of Charlton Hennet and his affair with Promethea. She only looked up when she heard the only other voice in the library.

"Rarity."

It sounded almost identical to Spike's. She looked around the darkened area, and could see nothing save the silhouettes of bookshelves and tables. She dropped the book she had been reading on the table, and tried to spot Spike, or Rainbow Dash, or anypony else.

Rarity questioned the darkness: "How...How did it get so dark? Where did everypony...?" She trailed off at the sound of the mysterious voice from earlier.

"'How did it get so dark?'"

From the shadow, a shape moved. Rarity did not notice. The figure was that of what appeared to be a pony, but something was off about it. The shadow moved through the aisle of bookshelves, its face pointed upward, its legs never moving. Rarity did not see him, and called out, "Who...?"

"'Where did everypony go?'"

The figure slid in front of Rarity suddenly and she screamed in shock. It proved to be a colt, his eyes shining as brightly and green as Spike's. His head was still tilted upward, and his stark white coat was only shown off by the fact that he was standing on his hind legs. His forelegs were covered in several brooches and bands, each with a jewel surrounded by some form of animal, be it bird or lizard. He smiled up at the ceiling, and said, "Either phrase would work nicely on a tombstone, wouldn't it?" He grinned, and brilliant white teeth gleamed at Rarity.

The white unicorn stared up at the colt. He was not a unicorn, and yet there was something that let him use whatever spell had taken the ponies out of the library and darkened it. She was worried, and was hoping that Spike would somehow break through his spell and find her. "Wait a minute..." she said slowly, trying to stall him from whatever he was planning to do. "What's happening here? Who are you?"

The colt finally looked down, though past her and down at the table. He began to sing as he pulled a chair up at the table she was sitting at.

♫♪Did you ever see a dream walking?♪♫ Well, I did.♪

He sat down across from her, and finally looked up at the startled unicorn. He grinned again, and continued to sing as he stared at her.

♫♪Did you ever hear a dream talking?♪♫ Well, I did.♫

He looked at her childishly, and said, "You're Rarity Seamstone, isn't it? You're the new beauteous cutieous with a Caduceus up your gluteus." He extended a hoof in greeting. "I'm Jackal Faust."

Rarity's mind was racing. "I--I don't know what you're talking about. I...wait a minute. I've heard of you." She recalled the list of names Zecora had spoken of when she'd first become Promethea. "Ze...uh, a friend of mine. She's spoken of you before."

He laughed. "Z-Stripes? Complimentary, I hope?" His hoof was still extended, but Rarity didn't dare touch it. He was still smiling, and she felt the fur on the back of her neck stand up at the sight of his teeth. "She's going to die, you know. In three days time." Laughing at her reaction, he tilted his head back, and said, "Your dragon friend thought I was crazy when I told him that too." He giggled, and looked back down at the unicorn across from him.

She glanced at his hoof for a split second, then began to stand up. "If you've harmed a single scale on him..." She couldn't finish her sentence. The colt was laughing, and she began to feel her fears creeping up on her. She desperately wanted to find Spike and see if he was alright, or Rainbow Dash so she would know the world hadn't ended outside. She got up and laid her hooves on the table. "L-Look," she said in as confident a voice as possible, "I don't know what's going on, but I don't want to be a part of it. A-And I don't know who you think I am, but this is unsettling and I'm going to leave now." She took a shuffling step away from the chair, and Faust's hoof moved towards hers.

"Oh Rarity..." he said, and she stopped and looked down at him. He grinned back up at her, and she didn't notice his hoof moving closer to hers. "Rarity, Rarity, Bo Barity. Banana-Fana-Fo Farity. Me, Mi, Mo Marity. Rarity..." He laid his hoof onto hers, and she couldn't stand anymore. She fell back into her chair, and as she faded out she heard his voice.

"...Let's cut the crap."

"You've revealed me. Clearly, you have much art."

Promethea was floating above Rarity, who seemed to be catatonic. A cloaked figure that could not be a colt rose above the form of Jackal Faust. A bright green halo of flames rose circled around his head. In his hooves was a staff, thin and multicolored. Atop it was a golden dog head. He was much older than the strange colt that had come to Rarity, and somehow Promethea knew why. He smiled at her.

She continued, unfazed by his entrance. "I think I know you from before. You are the magician. The snake-handler. The juggler. You introduced yourself to me when I was Bill, and then when I was Zecora..."

"Yes. You know, I always like you when you're at this stage, when you've not yet clearly defined who you are. I thought I'd come and introduce myself to the new girl before she's had time to become prejudiced against me."

Promethea raised the Caduceus, and the snakes hissed at the figure. "You mean you thought you'd see how big a threat Rarity poses before she's experienced enough to spot you coming. I take it that youthful, pony-like appearance is merely a glamour you molded for the occasion?"

"Oh, allow an old jackal his vanities. After all, she is a very attractive young mare; your handler had already convinced me of that. And I'm Jack. Jack the Faust. I like to look my best. I like to keep up appearances."

"Were you hoping to seduce her?"

"Oh please! Give me some credit. I have succubi for that! To be honest, I just wanted to see her before she ends up insane or gutted up on an altar somewhere. Though the drake said he wouldn't let that happen to her. Sweet kid. I like him.

"I mean, you do know how many enemies are gunning for her, don't you? There's a magician called Benneigh Solomon. I hear he's flying into Ponyville specially to see you. You ought to watch out for him. He sent those demons..."

"Yes. So they told me. He works for the Temple."

"Only on a freelance basis. The Temple would never admit to employing a magician. It's against their religion. Still, they want you dead. They think you're going to end the world."

"Why would they think that?"

"Oh, you're so sweet when you're in this amnesiac inbetween state. I almost forget how much I hate you the rest of the time. They think that because you are going to end the world, dummy."

She gripped he weapon tighter. "But...That's not true!" She wanted to believe her own words desperately.

The figure stretched out his hoof, and a green orb appeared in it. "You really can't remember anything, can you? Now, personally, I think ending the world's a great idea! Any real magician would agree." An image appeared in the orb, and Promethea saw a dying colt lying in a patch of dirt, blood leaking from his chest. On his face was a smile, and Promethea could almost recognize him. She did not lower her guard, and Faust said, "Promethea's father certainly did when he unleashed his dying curse upon humanity. That's you, by the way."

Promethea dropped the Caduceus.

Jackal Faust grinned, and pale yellow teeth showed their faces to her. He curled back his hoof, and the image faded.

"Ah. That's better. I see I have your attention."

Zecora leaned over the edge of the Star Pool. "Jackal Faust! Goddamn! This is screwed." she turned to the kneeling mare beside her. "Bill, you or me should have spotted him earlier, the amount of trouble he gave us!"

Bill shrugged. "Well, don't look at me! You can see yourself, he was using a glamour! I've never had any resistance to glamours!"

Grace looked over Bill's shoulder, and squinted at the glamour of Jackal Faust. "Don't keep us in suspense, darlings! Who is he?" She turned to Zecora. The zebra shuddered at the memories of her battles with Faust.

"Jack's a magician... Or at least, he is these days." She looked down into the Star Pool, and watched the two spiritual beings conversing. "He's manipulating Rarity, misdirecting her. You heard what he said about ending the world..."

Margie put a hoof to her mouth. "oh! he is bad. yes!" She was silenced when Margaret said, "Be quiet, Margie. Grace, this is serious. Too much knowledge might unbalance her..."

Grace nodded and turned to Margaret. "Yes. Yes, it might, rather. And an insane Promethea is too dreadful to contemplate. Do you know, I absolutely hate magicians."

Margaret was not impressed by Grace's sense of calm at the situation. "What are we going to do? He's snared her at her most vulnerable. And he claims to have gotten to her handler first."

They turned at the sound of Anna's voice calling out to them. "Sisters, look here! A new image is forming..."

The five gathered around the pool again, and saw that Rainbow Dash had finally entered the library with a bag of donuts in her teeth. Grace grimaced at the sight of her mane, and said, "Oh, it's Little Miss 'My head's so wide I need indicator lights tucked behind my ears!' What's she doing?"

Margie looked over Bill's shoulder, and licked her lips at the sight of Dash's bag of donuts. "um. she has donuts. i am hungry for sure!" The mare she leaned on frowned, and her eye twitched for a moment. "Would somebody shut this little figment up before I club her?" She felt Margaret pull the child away, and she shook her head in disbelief. "Jeez..."

Rainbow Dash made her way through the library. She trotted over to the computer station, and after failing yet again to open up her "WonderFanz!" account, she scanned the library data banks and then the Internet for whatever she could find on Promethea. To her surprise, she found that several thousand connections could be made to the name, and her face lit up to the point that she dropped her bag of donuts. She bent down to pick it up, and held it in a hoof while she sat down and pulled one out. She looked back at the screen, and grinned.

"Wow! Tons of stuff! I gotta print some o' this..." She set up several articles and stories to print, and chomped on a doughnut while she watched the papers slide out of the auto-copier. After they were done she picked them up in her mouth and set off to find Rarity. She walked through the aisles with an uncharacteristic grin for a pony who had claimed that they'd rather die than do research at a library. Dash looked around past the books on the shelves, hoping to spot a green scale or purple curl to tell her where Spike and Rarity were. She reached the end of the aisle, and stopped at the sight of Rarity sitting at a table with somepony neither of them knew.

"Rarity?" The question was muffled.

Jackal Faust looked up, and his charming demeanor from before was gone, as were his charming looks. He was no longer the young, startlingly handsome colt who had approached Rarity. He gritted his teeth, and mumbled, "Oh, for Set's sake..."

Rarity seemed groggy, and looked confusedly over at the creature on the other side of the table. He was no longer a colt, but a jackal as his name stated. What was more, he was ancient, looking to be older than Granny Smith. There was no hair on the top of his head, and what was there was unflattering and stringy. There were wrinkles all down his face and neck, and he seemed more evil than his previous self had.

Rarity blinked slowly, and said woozily, "Uuuh...What? What...What did you do with that handsome young colt...?" She seemed to be exhausted , and Dash was worried she would pass out.

Faust got up and slammed the chair into the table. He looked angrily at Rarity, and said, "He was a glamour, you vacuous little bimbo. This whole thing was a waste of my time. I hope Benneigh Solomon's boys cut you to pieces!"

Rainbow Dash trotted up to the table and set the papers down. "Hey you leave her be!" she shouted, and Faust looked at her with immense sarcasm. He pointed a claw at Dash and said, "Up yours, gidget."

Faust turned to Rarity, who still looked slightly delirious. "And as for you, you're gonna get exactly what you deserve! I coulda had things real sweet in that Beanstalk Kingdom if you hadn't bitched everything up!" He spit on the floor, and gave them his parting words.

"Screw you, lady. Screw you!" He turned and walked away, now using his cane to assist himself with his limp. He merged with the crowd of ponies in the main chamber of the library, and disappeared behind a group of studying teenagers.

"Well, he sucked."

Turning their heads, Rainbow Dash and Rarity caught sight of Spike coming around the corner. He had several books tucked under his arms, and scratched his head. "Sorry about leading that guy to you. He was nice enough when I talked with him." He stopped next to Rarity, who was rubbing her forehead with both hooves. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Rarity was about to answer when Rainbow Dash butted in. "Oh man, when I walked in, he was, like, totally having sex with her!" She ignored Spike's eye-twitch, and she turned to Rarity for confirmation. What she got was a dirty look.

"He was not having his way with me, Rainbow Dash." She stood up from the table, this time keeping her hooves off of every surface of it. "He was just touching my hoof. I-It was some sort of mind trick he was doing." She turned and looked at Spike. "H-He said a lot, and it was all sort of..." She paused, looking for the right word. "...frightening. Everything was dark, and it was like the library was deserted..."

Rainbow Dash pounded a reassuring hoof on Rarity's back, drawing another angry gaze from the unicorn that went unnoticed by Dash. "Aw, he was just some maniac wino." She put a hoof on the papers she'd printed. "Hey, look what I got!"

Spike picked up the papers as Dash began listing some of the things that she'd found. The three began to head to the exit of the library, and Rarity looked like her head was hurting. Dash didn't notice.

"There's all kinds of stuff about Promethea that I found on the Net. There's this Prench lesbian writer did this thing, "The Book of Promethea," and there's this black metal band called Hecate Enthroned..."

As soon as they stepped out of the library, Rarity turned towards the nearest shuttle stop, and Spike called after her. "Hey! Where are you going? Don't you care about this? I mean, this is sorta all about you!"

Rarity turned, and Spike could see the soreness hiding behind her azure eyes. "At the moment," she said, her voice slightly raspy, "I do not care. I am tired from being jumped by a magician, or sorcerer, or whatever he was, and I want to go home and relax. I cannot do that, though, as I have to attend to my store today and do my job, while you can go off to your college and read that while you ignore your mathematics lecture." The shuttle pulled up, and she blew a sarcastic kiss at him. "I bid you adieu, Spike." She did not bother to acknowledge Rainbow Dash.

As the shuttle pulled out of the stop, Spike turned to Rainbow Dash, who seemed nonplussed by the sudden change in Rarity's emotions. "Ah, she's just having an "I'm older than they are, and they're going to turn out better than me" moment." The look on Spike's face made her shut up, and she changed the subject. "So, this black metal band..."

"Rainbow Dash..."

She held up a hoof. "No, but, like, they have this number called "Promethea My Darkest Mask of Surreality!!".

Spike stopped her, and said, "I think I want to follow Rarity's lead and take a break from this Promethea stuff. It's killing her already, and I don't want to end up the same way. Besides," He lifted the stack of books he'd checked out, "I've got homework to do. So let's just do something normal and go to the University."

Rainbow Dash nodded, and looked jokingly at him. "Going to University's normal?" She laughed, and Spike smiled, glad she was easily letting go of the matter for the day. The two headed towards their college, and Spike asked, "By the way, Dash, didn't you say you were gonna bring donuts for us?"

The pegasus stopped in her tracks. Her mind showed her an image of the bag of donuts lying on a chair at the computer station as she trotted away with her papers. For a split second, Spike saw a look of absolute rage on Dash's face. Then it was replaced by one of oblivion. "Nope! Thought I was the only one who wanted some!" She laughed loudly, and continued to head toward the college. Spike smiled, and followed after her, listening absently to the news as he went.

This is TEXTure™.

Mayor Sonny Baskerville: Nuts or what?

The SLEAZE ENQUIRY into Ponyville's first multiple personality disorder MAYOR became more COMPLEX today.

A new personality called "The Squealer" claimed that all 42 personalities, including HIMSELF, were an elaborate SHAM.

This is TEXTure™.

"Hmmmm..."

Grace studied the images in the Star Pool until they faded. "Well, she seems to have survived..."

Margaret nodded, and floated behind Grace. "Well...yes. It was a lucky break, though, her friend coming back like that."

Zecora nodded. "Yeah, and Jack was only messing with her. Anyone else would have just shot her. She's helpless without guidance. Faust was right: Benneigh Solomon's friends from the Howling will pulverize her." She suddenly looked furious. "God, how many lives did Promethea's dad screw up?"

The Immateria began to fade, and the zebra felt woozy. She heard Bill behind her. "Zecora, honey, you're just upset. Promethea's existence is necessary..."

Zecora shut her eyes to block out the blending colors. "Right," she said. "Is that what you told yourself when poor crazy Red Zone blew your head off? In case it's escaped the attention of you ladies, I'm the only one here that being Promethea hasn't killed!"

The dizzy sensation faded. Zecora opened her eyes and found herself back in the hospital room. The sound of machines beeping and humming filled her ears, and she could no longer smell. She felt sweat dripping down her face, even though she felt like she was in an ice field. She breathed heavily for a few seconds, and managed to mumble out a word before sleep overcame her.

"Damn."

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Next: No Man's Land!