Last night… last night was long. At least an extra three hours were added to that night. Was that the sign, what my mistress wanted me to wait for? It has been so long, my wait within these wild and untamed woods; I’ve witnessed so much in my patience…
I’ve seen dragons raised and cities razed, dreams born and lovers mourn; I’ve seen eons of time pass by, waiting for her. Waiting for my mistress…
Always I had been waiting for the mare who had given me life to allow me to return to her own.
The sun rose hours ago, and with it came my sign; I can smell her now, I can smell my mistress upon the wind. Her magical scent washes over this world, my senses drinking in its delicious glory. It is like a colour on the breeze to me, a beautiful ocean blue glow that dances in the wind and titillates my senses. What a time to be alive, the world has regained a beauty it did not know it was missing!
I wish dearly that I could see her, join her, be with her and enjoy the sun and the ponies she has been without. Sadly, I cannot; to them I am a monster, a demon. A beast of taking that final breath, lore tells that my presence omens death. It matters not, for now; I will surely not be long forgotten.
Here on the edge of the forest I pined for her, for the mistress whose return I wanted to celebrate at her side.
With calm and precise patience however I linger within the edge of this foreboding copse upon the forest edge, hidden in the bosom of its gloomy shadows. Here I can rest, within ear’s distance of her enjoying the jubilee in her honour, safe from striking fear upon her subjects.
Here I wait for my chance to return to her side.
*
The world snapped back to my waking mind, upon the rising of the moon; and with a yawn I too arose to meet the deepening gloom. I gaze unto the skies to see the stars glitter, and never in many years have they looked better. The tender care of their mistress has their beauty shine which, in a word, was divine. Already the world showed improvement at her return.
With that my mind woke, aware and excited. Night had fallen, shadows spreading across the earth and blanketing the world in a quiet stillness that becalmed the most rowdy of youth and the busiest of elders. The town, now quiet, would be void of ponies and, while not truly welcoming even at this time, less wary of my presence. Night is, after all, dark and filled with terrors. And so, with grace befitting the greatest of predators, upon the road did I stalk.
Long had it been since I last approached or entered equine lands, their kind flighty and easily frightened by those not of their herds. I recalled their reaction to the strange striped equine that dwelled within the wild, untamed forests. My presence they feared more than they had her, and so I am shunned with words of dread and tales of woe.
Skittish bastards, these ponies are.
I sniffed the air within the town, moaning in bliss as it filled my sense of smell and taste. Her scent lingered here, delightfully thick as if she had been here for hours. That may well be true; I know not what occurred after my slip into the embrace of slumber, but it smelled like revelry and I enjoyed it in my own way. I turned this way and that, enjoying the smells of what had been provided at the celebration. A little drink, something that smelled like a huge collection of sugar…
My nose met the earth, snuffling the cobbles for traces of anything interesting. A mare here in her later months of being gravid with twins, a stallion there with the hearty scent of sweat and soil and the thick sweet smell of fruit. It is all terribly mundane and average for this quaint little hamlet. I did find a scent that my mistress long ago used to mark trails, and I followed it with much curiosity to a crate with a sheet of parchment and what appeared to be the remains of a baked apple tart; quite a large piece, at that.
Who ever said that the world was without prizes?
I inspected the parchment, finding only a pair of words upon it: “Our Sentinel’s.”
My mistress’s scent coated these items, and with great contentment I consumed the treat. Delicious, like nothing I had tasted in centuries; words to describe the bliss that burst into my mouth and across my tongue as others failed me. So kind was my mistress, to hide this piece of glorious cooking for me. With a grateful tongue and sated heart, I procured the parchment and with care overlapped it, making it a size which concealed it within my coat. With my rewards now claimed, my feet took me from the darkness between buildings, a happy skip in my step.
A scream, panic manifest into sound, met my ears as I entered the street; a pony had seen me from the far side of the pavers. Her scent, laced with fear, told me of her life. Life alone, but with a steady male companion, a recent dinner of lilies, chestnuts, and –interestingly- multitudes of fruit… it was hard to discern everything through the terror which filled her scent, however.
Windows and doors slammed open around us within breaths, and the echoing staccato of a multitude of hooves hurried towards us. Upon sighting the first approaching ponies, my ears dropped to my scalp and, with a swiftness rivalling the wind itself or shadows fleeing the rising morning sun, I bolted. Past ponies, some of whom yell with fear themselves as I moved between them, I ran as fast as my claws would take me. I had to escape, before one of their numbers armed themselves and hunted me in earnest. A confused yell came from a structure made from an enormous oak as I passed it, before glittering purple wizardry surrounded me, capturing me within an orb.
Believed me contained, the sorceress to whom this magic belonged approached. Her coat reminiscent of lavender and her mane a deeper purple still, striped with single thick strips of a lighter and paler purple. Her pointed horn glimmered as her magic contained me, and her eyes –through which I could see a fierce intelligence, studied her prize. I could both see in her eyes and sense in her scent her immense power; the very Element of Magic itself had claimed this mare as its champion.
I allow her purple gaze to linger upon me for but a moment, before I return her ogling with my own, studying her as she studied me. She stepped back, as if fearful of my visage, perhaps not expecting to see the intelligence behind my eyes, or the possibility of a creature such as myself capable of such a stare. It was all the hesitation that I required.
I peered at her neutrally at her as my form burst, misting into fog thicker than smoke and darker than soot, returning my body to the shadows and darkness from which it was forged. Her magic bubble held as I continued my own magic from within, increasing my volume double, triple, and quadruple what was originally within her sphere. Almost fifty-fold my magic doubled the mist I had become, and the strain on her magic was immense. The fortitude that she held, to this point, was something I found both impressive and worrisome; perhaps this mare, this Element of Magic, truly could keep me contained unlike so many hunters before her..? I pondered the possibility of being truly captured until I heard her yelp and felt the bubble burst.
Within an instant the world around her was cloaked in shadow, thicker than the thickest natural fog and dark as a cave at night. For a moment, I lingered, allowing her to see my gaze resting solely on her, letting her see the steady, neutral expression that I held, before I vanish into the mists. To let her know that she never truly understood what she had attempted to contain; a force of nature, the shadows of the night given life.
I had picked up on my mistress’s scent during my run, and I was determined that I would reacquaint myself with her. Nothing would deter me from my goal, no hunter capable of capturing me, no walls or obstacles too great or impassable. I would have my reunion.
I would have it or die trying.
*
I had run for hours to reach the destination of my mistress’ scent, a building which I had watched built centuries long gone. It dwarfed the pony city surrounding it, like a mother pen amongst her cygnets. From here the great power of the sun had been swayed for time immemorial. A scent my nose was unused to lingered in the air, a smell of self-righteousness and self-importance. I did not much care for it.
It was sour and unpleasant to taste.
The white halls of this monolithic building, lit with sconce and magic alike, made stealth near impossible; this I determined from outside its grand windows. I would be easily seen against the stark, bleached white within. I could smell her though, so close that it made me whine impatiently. She was here, this I could tell.
Sadly, to locate my mistress, I would need use more magic than could be safe. It would be worth it, I had told myself, to see her again. To smell her mane, to hear her voice, to feel her breath; I would have waited another millennia just for these small things had she told me. Just to return to my mistress, to earn her affection.
I had waited this long, however, and my patience was at its last frayed end.
Magic encompassed me, and I allowed it to extend my senses, to see beyond the walls and into the spaces between; here I could see her scent, see where she had gone –to a point. A whole section of this enormous abode was defended from even my powerful, primal magic. All I could sense was the presence of something powerful beyond that defence.
My mistress’s kin was located elsewhere; there was no question as to whom this might be.
More primal magic surrounded me, and as a burst of raw shadow I transmitted myself as close to the defended part of the building as I could. Upon my appearance, ponies startled. Mares clad in frilly cloth scared, and armour upon guards burst with magical fury at my mere presence, preparing to protect their charges. A shout of shock anger met my ears, but with determination I sprinted away, pounding into the halls.
The clatter of hooves and metal echoed from behind me, and with reflexes unused in centuries I dodged their clumsy attempts to grapple me. Bursts of magic splashed against the marble paves, and unheeding I sprinted on. From where I ran I could see the chamber in which she resided, her scent pouring from the door like water cascading from a waterfall. It was beautiful.
I was within meters when a lucky beam of magic struck my lower spine, earning an agonized yelp in response. I collapsed against the tiles, sliding the last few yards to my goal and thudding heavily against the door. I was so close! So close!
Yet, as was now seen, I was still not close enough.
The magic had burned my back and spine, solar-energy infused magic charring the bone, muscle, sinew, and nerves to uselessness. All my assailed body could do was whine piteously as it shook in pain. There was so much pain... I could hear, within the room, hooves walking across a tiled floor, though my pained body denied me the capacity to tell in which direction. All around me ponies in metal hefted blades in my direction, yelling orders at me to remain still, yet all I did was pine and attempt to scratch at the wooden barrier like a pet begging for entrance.
Mistress, my mistress… why do you not come to my aid..? Have I failed you? Have I shamed your name with my inadequacy? My face became damp with tears and my vision blurred, darkness encroaching upon the edges of my sight and I thought a terrifying notion.
Have you abandoned me?
*
Newly returned Princess Luna sighed at the hard covered book she had just completed reading, the ninth book in the last three hours. This, unlike its predecessors which taught her history and law, had taught her about social etiquette, speech, and language changes in the last thousand years. She was not entirely pleased with the alterations, but for the sake of social norms, and keeping the prissy-looking, sounding, and acting nobles off her back, she would fold.
She wondered how much of her past had lingered, how much had endured the ages, since her banishment as Nightmare Moon. How many of her past had scattered to the winds? She had seen one remnant in the midday, catching a glimpse of one of her most faithful companions out on the edge of the Everfree Forest, lurking within the trees. She had left a trail that he could follow to a piece of pie baked by the Apple family and a note identifying it as for him, and she hoped that he had gotten it by now.
Or, at least, gotten to it before the weak protective ward on it wore off and a cat or raccoon snatched it up.
Her magic reached for the next book for her to read, this one on the history of her family since her departure and the construction of her new home, Canterlot Castle. She’d met the supposed nephew of her sister and by extension her, Prince Blueblood. He didn’t leave a good impression, she recalled.
She had, during the encounter, briefly wondered when her sister had wed a family of bigots.
Princess Cadance, however, had been a delight to meet. The mare had come from a common family and, through a horrid series of events that left but one survivor had ascended to alicornhood. From there she was adopted as a ward of the crown, officially given the title of the Princess of Love and the unofficial familial position as Celestia’s niece, and was therefore her niece as well.
She opened the book with a sigh and started reading the introduction chapter when a series of alarms blared in her skull; something was using scrying magic to attempt to spy on the residential area of the castle, a severely punishable offense if she recalled correctly. She considered the intrusion for a moment before shrugging it off, assuming it to be a member of this strange new ‘press’ or ‘paparazzi’ that a few books had informed her about. If it was serious enough to warrant attention, her sister would take care of it.
Then a surge of strange magic sent ripples through the ambient mana in the air, making her slightly more curious, but still not worried; teleportation has developed impressively since she was banished, and she had yet to identify their different sensations on the magical field that their different uses created. It was likely a pony from those supposed ‘press’ or ‘paparazzi’ breaking into the castle.
The sounds of startled guards and running hooves met her ears. Yes, there was the yelling and running that would accompany an intruder on royal property; totally normal for this day and age. This book truly was interesting just past the introduction; she had no idea that her dear sister had actually wed just over a century after her departure. Oh, how awkward those dates must have been. She would delight in grilling her sister for information on it later; she always was the one with less luck with stallions.
She was pulled from her studies and reverie by sounds that stunned her to her core, magic striking flesh, a canine-like yelp, followed by fur sliding on tiles and a meaty thud against her door.
No, she shook her head, it couldn’t be; it was just her imagination playing with her. She stood and walked to the door, placing the book upon her bed. She would open the door and find a heavily restrained pony attempting to fight off the guards, not what she had imagined. Surely that yowl had just been a pony struck by a stunning spell; they were known to be painful.
Then she heard the whining.
Her pace doubled, and she pulled open the door to find exactly what she feared she would find. Several guards all standing around a black canine figure roughly the size of an adult stallion slumped against where her door had just been, their pikes and swords all levelled at the whining creature. Smoke gently rose from a large scorch on its back, and it looked up at her with the most painful expression she had been subject to.
It was both happy that she had appeared, and in the most excruciating pain of its life.
Her magic lit, and without conversing with the guard in any way she gently lifted the canine from the ground and pulled it into her room when one of the guards spoke, “Princess, what are you doing, that thing is dangerous!”
She snarled and rounded on him, her eyes boring into his own furiously, “This thing is as dangerous to us as children are to their parents! Return to your posts until we call for you!”
Startled, the guards all gave a firm “yes ma-am!” and scurried back to their positions down the hall, unwilling to be on the receiving end of her anger. Luna growled down at them irritably before floating the wolf into her suite and closing the door with a thud. She would deal with the perpetrator of this outrage at a later opportunity. Right now, her black-furred company required her attention.
She walked the canine over to her fireplace, where she lay down and gently draped him across her lap. He whined and pawed at her legs, trying to get closer to her embrace even in his pained and failing strength. It hurt her heart to see him in such pain.
“H-oh, my friend, I am so sorry,” her voice pined to him, lowering her head to nuzzle his own, “I dared not dream you would attempt to enter the castle; I assumed that you had grown content in your life and remained in the woods. Did you find my gift to you, in Ponyville?”
He shuffled in his place before his weak shadowy magic pulled a scrap of neatly folded paper from within his fur and presented it to her. Luna took the paper, unfolded it, and smiled at the words.
“You did, you rascal; I should have known you would remember that scent.” She said, sadness still tinging her voice. She nuzzled him once more, trying to stay calm for the beast that she all but smothered in her affection. “I’m so sorry that you must endure this, even before we become reacquainted once again. I am pleased that I forged you to be akin to the phoenix, or I don’t know what I would do…”
The wolf whined, his voice now weak and feeble, drifting away from him as he gazed up at her. He appeared… happy, despite his circumstances. Luna sighed and smiled to him, ignoring the tear that rolled down her cheek. “Please, my friend, do not fear this;” she said, her magic suddenly glittering around his head for an instant before fading, “I will not let you forget. Please, just sleep; I will be here when you wake.”
His tongue snaked out and licked her cheek before returning to his mouth, whereupon his form grew still.
As if dissolving, the wolf’s form seemed to turn to black smoke. For a few moments, the formless mass simply lingered in the air before condensing, solidifying into a solid form again. Younger, appearing as a pup barely beyond the age that he could be safely taken from his mother, the wolf rose once more from the mists of his dying body.
He stirred a little, and then a little more, before his youthful body sat up and his glowing eyes, emerald green irises contracting in the light as they opened and looked up at Luna. Purple smoke like magic, akin to those that warned the world of those who abused black magic, rose from around his eyes gently; this was a creature not of nature, but of magic –her magic, to be precise. Recognition, familiarity, and glee seemed to fill his face, and his tail exploded into movement as he waved it happily.
Luna smiled down at him before nuzzling him, the pup returning the gesture with gusto, like he was greeting his mother. “I cannot wait to return to our old tricks with my sister, my friend; it is so very wonderful to see you again after all these years.
“I have missed you, Shuck.”
Author's Note
Just a little something that popped into my head and wouldn't get out. Not really canon to anything, to be honest, just a fun little play with my favorite cryptid. Seriously, Black Shuck doesn't get enough love, that thing is awesome.
