Luna's

Luna’s

Chapter 8

Thick, unrelenting darkness that obscured every corner of my vision. I staved off the desire to close my eyes and drift back off to sleep, instead sitting up. But all this darkness offered no other hints as to where I was. The padded mattress under me and cover slipping off my body as I sat up told me I was in a bed—and even further, the stiffness of the mattress and thinness of the blanket offered at the very least some information. I closed my eyes, giving myself a few moments to regain some clarity.

I’m back. I sighed.

Everything came back to me. I remembered coming in from the fog. Luna had been standing there patiently, waiting for me. Her hoof rested on the bar and she had that same little smirk on her face—well, perhaps not quite the same; it was a tad more condescending than normal. With that smirk and a soft welcome, I was back as if nothing had happened. I was right back where I started.

At last I opened my eyes, homing in on some light spilling in from under the door. Groaning on reflex, I swung my hind legs out onto the cold floor and climbed down from the bed. Every fiber of my being told me to climb back in bed and just sleep my life away until the fog miraculously cleared, but all my experiences in this insane place had taught me better.

I Stumbled across the room, my hoof missing a few passes at the door handle before finally managing to get a grip on the slippery thing. When I finally got it opened, I fell into the hallway. Somehow, I barely managed to catch myself on my legs before hitting the floor. The searing bright lights forced my eyes closed. Blindly, I groped about until I found the railing to the stairwell. Bracing myself against it, I cracked my eyes open to adjust to the light.

“What is with me tonight?” I asked the vacant hallway. “You’d think I was drunk. Maybe that walk last night tired me out more than I thought.”

Somehow, I made my way down the rickety stairs and into the tavern while my eyes still acclimated themselves. Luna already stared in my direction—cheek resting on hoof as she leaned on the counter—as I stepped out into the dining area. Without so much as tilting her head, her horn lit up, sliding a cup of already poured coffee along the bar towards me.

“Good evening,” she said.

I hardly wanted to make eye contact with the devilish mare, so, instead I kept my gaze focused on the mug as I stepped to the end of the bar. The only reply I offered was the barest of nods before starting to a booth to regain my senses with this cup of the charred drippings that Luna had the gall to call coffee. But before I withdrew into my thoughts, something caught my eye. Amidst the grotesque green wallpaper, offensive orange lights, and bleak browns of the bar was a spot of colour that stood out. Sitting at a table in the middle of the room was a mare with a vibrant orange coat, bright blond mane, and a worn brown hat whom I was faintly familiar with—though her name escaped me. As my eyes met hers, she raised a bottle of what I assumed was cider.

“Howdy,” she said in a friendly tone. Without so much as shifting from her relaxed position, she kicked out a chair into my path. “Why don’t ya take a seat, partner? I could use some company.”

My eyes trailed from the chair to the mare herself. I found myself sorely tempted to raise an eyebrow and ignore the bumpkin, but whatever manners remained in me after my time here spoke up in protest. And there was also Luna’s advice. Among the ponies who come in, some might provide clues I could use, like pieces to the puzzle that was my imprisonment in this place. Reluctantly, I took the offered seat.

She slammed down the bottle after taking a swig, causing the table to shake. It was then that I noticed her eyes were unfocused, lazily drifting to and fro, her head was barely able to be kept still, and resting on her muzzle was a goofy grin. But the dead give-away was the smell. She reeked of booze.

“Luna,” she slurred, “why don’t ya bring another cider my way. An’ one fer my friend, here.”

I raised a hoof in protest. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ off that easy,” she said before tipping back her bottle once more. This time, she held it there, chugging the remainder of her drink.

Luna appeared at our table, a bottle of cider in her magic along with a new mug of coffee. When I looked up at her skeptically, she merely smiled that same lazy smile. “I’m sorry, Applejack, but you’ve drunk all the cider we have. This is the last bottle, I’m afraid. Instead, I’ve given your friend some whiskey in her coffee.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Luna had already swapped out my cup. While the generous bartender took her leave, I glared down at the unassuming mug. I forced myself to gulp, watching the steam rise; it dissipated right in front of me, smokey fingers beckoning mesmerizingly. Memories of the sterile taste of alcohol burning my tongue and chest filled my mind until it went down smoothly. I almost invited the pain. After all, the promise it held was worth the little discomfort. The power to forget the troubles of this damned bar and this damned forest for just a damned few short hours lay at the bottom of this mug. I shakily brought it to my lips.

But suddenly, my whole body shuddered. A surge of scalding coffee spilled over the brim and seared my hoof. A brief mental flash of a mountain of bottles crashing down upon me caused me to stop.

Not anymore, I told myself.

I caught a whiff of my drink, and I realised the ploy—the unmistakable aroma of whiskey, so pungent and overwhelming, was strangely absent. I glanced over to Luna only to find her staring at me with her usual smirk. I could almost hear her damnable laugh, but for once, I was thankful to her.

When I shifted my gaze back, I saw Applejack already downing her fresh bottle. So, I took a sip of my coffee. It was bad manners to let her drink alone, even if mine wasn’t alcohol. When I pulled the cup away and swallowed the burnt roast, I finally spoke.

“I’m surprised to see you here again so soon. I thought you wouldn’t be back for quite some time considering how you left.”

Applejack exhaled as soon as the bottle parted from her lips and wiped her mouth. “Yeah, but sometimes ya just gotta call it quits fer the night an’ get some shuteye.” She swung forward, leaning on the table and narrowing her eyes at me. “But I wouldn’t have ta do that if I could get the hell outta here. I swear, these woods’re trickier than a greased up pig.”

“Can’t say I’ve had the…er…pleasure.”

“It ain’t a pleasure, ya nitwit.” I cringed at her insult but chose to let it go. “Especially if they start nippin’ at ya.” She threw back the bottle once more, filling her mouth with the amber liquid inside. I inhaled sharply and elected to keep my eyes off the cider she so exuberantly chugged down like a glutton. While the sweet brew wasn’t my particular fancy, the reprieve it would have brought was indeed welcomed. She slammed her hoof down once more with the bottle, and another tremor followed. Small splashes of my coffee surged from their container onto the worn wood of the table below.

She leaned forward again. “Point is that these woods, they’ll get ya twisted around quicker than a lassoin’ rodeo clown.”

“I’m guessing you’ve been here for a while then?” I looked back to her, finding a rather disgruntled look on her face.

“Shoot, as long as I can remember.” She swatted her hoof angrily at nothing, deepening her scowl.

My heart stopped in my chest. Whatever scraps of hope I had managed to cling onto were fast slipping away. I brought the mug of coffee to my lips. Slowly, I sipped, waiting for my heart to catch up. When it finally did, I pulled the mug just far enough away so that I could speak.

“You’ve been searching this whole time?”

“Whole time,” she affirmed.

“And you’ve not found anything about an escape?”

She laughed. “It don’t matter what way ya leave here. You’ll only end up where ya started.”

My hoof shook just as I set my cup back down on the table. Echoes of what Luna had said before had come back to haunt me. Luna’s seems to attract all those unfortunate enough to be lost here. She hadn’t been lying.

“Call me a cynic,” I said, “but why haven’t you simply given up?”

Applejack turned her glare towards me. “I ain’t no quitter.”

I cleared my throat. “Well, it just seems a bit stubborn to keep trying—”

Applejack tipped back her hat. “Stubborn? Ya wanna run that by me again, partner?”

“Of course, it’s stubborn to keep pushing ahead when there’s no point.”

“I ain’t no stubborn mule! It’s called tenacity, an’ we Apples are known fer that!” She started to stand up from her chair, putting her weight on the already unsteady table. “I’ll find a way outta these woods without you or that damn bitch’s help!” She thrust her hoof in Luna’s direction, behind the bar. She simply watched our argument with mild, detached amusement—her usual fare.

I pushed back my seat and took to my hooves. “I won’t be berated for simply stating the truth. Wasting your time in the woods, looking for an exit you’ve never found for heaven knows how long—it’s stubborn!” That word lingered in my mind for a moment. The times I had heard it myself were maddening, but I pushed those memories aside for the moment. For now, it was my weapon. “Nor will I waste my time with somepony so—” I huffed, struggling for an appropriate word, “—so uncouth!”

For a brief moment, I glanced into Applejack’s eyes. At that word, I could practically feel the burn in her gaze as she stared daggers at me. “Oh, I am goin’ to tear you a—” As Applejack shifted to get off the table, her drunkenness and her unsteady support gave out. The table tumbled over, sending Applejack and the beverages with it. The mare hit the ground and the bottle and mug shattered, splashing hot coffee and alcohol all over her.

I nodded at the sight. “Serves you right,” I muttered under my breath. As I stormed out, I snatched the mug of coffee Luna had taken from me earlier from the counter in front of her.

“Oh, dear. Somepony should clean that up,” Luna said. Her eyes lazily drifted from the mess to me as I took the mug. With an obnoxious laugh, she added, “Like two brick walls.”

I merely stuck my nose up at her as I walked past to the front door. “I’ll be outside.”

“Don’t wander too far. We don’t want a repeat of last night,” she warned with her usual level of concern—that is, one bordering on complete apathy.

I shot a glare back at her. “I won’t.”