“The essence of a shadow is not whose it is, but who, or what, casts it.”
Shadow Play:
The Longest Day
Twilight Sparkle awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep. The intense heat poured into the library, removing all comfort that she may have had. Sleep didn’t do any good against the rays of the sun, not really. Sleep did offer an escape for her during this crisis, but it was not a permanent one. She did not open her eyes yet; as she was uncertain of which way she was facing currently. To look out a window meant blindness, and to look away meant to face reality once again. She shifted, keeping her eyes hidden from the world. There was no comfortable spot, no relaxing position. She sighed and tried to ignore everything, but it was no use. Her purple coat was soaked with sweat, her mane was mussed up, and her horn had become so very dry. Twilight did not rise. Regardless of the fact that the sleep had been dreamless and short, it was pure ecstasy for her. She had dreamt of nothing but the sun since all of this had started three weeks ago. Sleep was the only thing that she had left. Well, almost the only thing. Rarity was still living in Ponyville, one of the few who dared to stay. The streets were abandoned, shops closed, homes deserted. Ponyville’s population was now two; two ponies who refused to leave, refused to forget all that they had accomplished here. Twilight had made Ponyville her home, and she was not about to forsake it. Besides, what would happen to Rarity? Even so, it was not like she could get very far on her own like this.
“Twilight?” a soft voice came accompanied by a short tap upon her door. The purple unicorn refused to open her eyes.
The door creaked open as Rarity stepped into the room. She was also sweat-ridden, her normally perfect mane was astray, and her hooves had cracked under the intense heat.
“Twilight?” the voice came again.
“Yes?” Twilight’s voice was weak, it had been so very long since she had anything to drink, but then again it was not an uncommon occurrence these days for a pony to die of thirst at a moments notice.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was already awake. You can thank our celestial friend for that.”
Rarity’s eyes widened before they glanced down. Twilight’s word choice for the sun was not lost on her. The Princess had promised to solve this, but had failed. She had let her subjects down, and given her life in the process, but Twilight had still taken the loss very personally. She, at first, had felt utter sorrow concerning the passing of Celestia, but then the sadness had changed into anger. It was an anger that only Twilight could experience, but nopony could explain.
“Do you want a drink?” Rarity asked.
This statement was a more subtle way of saying “I’m thirsty.” Every pony alive was thirsty, so the statement was viewed as selfish and thoughtless. ‘You’re thirsty? Oh, well we are too, and we aren’t complaining about it, so why should you? In fact, why should you even get a drink if you are just going to complain?’ Ponies turned on each other for a few drops of water, civilized towns turned into Anarchy’s playground as terror and thirst found its way into the minds and mouths of every pony still trying to hang on, regardless of the fact that there was nothing left to hang on to.
“Yes.” Twilight whispered, “I would like a drink. Feel free to join me.”
A faint smile found its way to Rarity’s lips, but did not care to stay very long. As the white unicorn turned from the room to retrieve the water, Twilight announced that she would get it, and opened her eyes. She was lucky; she had been facing away from the window this time. One eye was already blind, and she had no desire to sacrifice the other. Twilight rose from her place of slumber and followed Rarity down to the dining area of her house. For a library, it was well furnished. Twilight gathered what strength she had to levitate the water from its place in the shadows behind the cabinets, the coldest place in the house, and placed it on the table. The clear liquid sparkled in the vivid light. Rarity took over to carefully pour the water into a couple of glasses. Twilight’s knees buckled and she collapsed.
“Twilight!” Rarity exclaimed, rushing over to help her fallen friend.
“I’ll be fine,” Twilight reassured as she slowly stood up again and moved closer to the table. “I just need a drink.”
Rarity helped the other pony by lifting the glass to Twilight’s lips and slowly letting the water run into her mouth and down her throat. Twilight smiled and took a deep breath.
“What time is it?” the purple unicorn inquired after she had allowed the water to soften her throat.
“A little after three in the morning.”
The sun blazed outside.
“Doesn’t seem like it.” Rarity admitted.
There was a moment of silence. Rarity had her questions, but Twilight was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She had been failing in health ever since the death of Celestia, with no improvement of any kind. She was falling away from this world, and accepting it. It was clear that time was precious, and, just like their water, running out. But when was the right time to address such a difficult subject? Was there a right time, or did you just have to choose the time that seemed like it would cause the least amount of damage? There was a right answer in there somewhere, but Rarity did not have the time to search for it. She needed to know now.
“Twilight, do you mind if I ask you a question or two?”
Twilight glanced over but said nothing. Rarity took this as a yes.
“Well, I know that this is probably not what you want to talk about, but I need to know if what the ponies were say was true, and you are the only pony who would really know.” She took a deep breath, preparing for this next sentence. “What did Celestia do to cause all of this?”
Twilight turned away, but did not leave. She would have cried if she could, but the heat took the tears as soon as they appeared. Sadness without the ability to show it, and that made the emotion even worse. Sometimes crying was the best way to express oneself, and it gave purpose to the feeling of being genuinely sad over something. But Twilight Sparkle could not cry. She had cried her last when the rest of her friends had left Ponyville.
“She moved.” Twilight replied, back still turned.
“What?”
“While raising the sun, she moved forward for some reason, shifting the sun. Basically, the sun is closer to us now. It’s burning up Equestria.” Twilight paused, it was clear that she was struggling to get the next words out. “Celestia tried to repair the damage, but was killed in the process. Luna doesn’t have the power to move the sun, and as such our hope is defeated.”
“No, never.” Rarity moved to stand by her friend. “Hope is never truly lost. It’s just harder to see sometimes.”
“What hope is there then?” Twilight turned to face Rarity, her eyes spoke fear and hurt. “What can we do?”
“We can wait and see. We can hang on to each other.” It did not sound like Rarity truly believed what she said.
Twilight sighed again and looked over at the remaining water. She had been so thirsty for so long now, but when the water they had was gone, then that was it. Already the intense heat had gotten to the dwindling supply, and evaporation was well underway. Twilight mentioned this to Rarity, who gasped and replaced the water behind the cabinets. Twilight watched the one thing she wanted disappear from sight and moved over to one of the windows. The ever-present mirages caused the streets of Ponyville to become sheets of glass. Nothing moved outside, save for the shimmering of the heat. The town had died, burned to death, but without any visible damage.
“Do you think,” Twilight began, “that perhaps there is anything to drink in any of these other houses?”
“We already checked for water when the rest of the ponies left, it was all taken.”
“The water was taken, but perhaps they left something else; something else that we could drink. I’m sure that Sugar Cube Corner would have something, or perhaps one of the cafes.”
“That’s a good idea, I hadn’t thought about it.” Rarity nodded, smiling. “Here, I’ll go out and see if I can find anything.”
“See if you can find anything for your mane too, have to keep up appearances.” Twilight joked, returning Rarity’s smile weakly.
Rarity grinned and chuckled. At first she had been very upset concerning her hair being skewed by the heat, but, all things considering, it hadn’t even crossed her mind lately.
“I’ll do that, thanks Twilight.”
Rarity started towards the door, still smiling. Twilight followed after.
“Wait, it’s too hot outside to travel far. You should come back after you check Sugar Cube Corner.” Said Twilight.
“I’ll do that. See you in a bit.”
Twilight watched the white unicorn leave and immediately close the door behind her. One second was all it took for a wave of dry heat to push its way in and settle around the remaining pony. Twilight gasped at the sudden increase of temperature, causing the warmness to scratch its way down her throat, taking away any good that the water did, and causing her to cough. Her lungs ached and her chest convulsed as the coughing continued. She tried to cry, but failed once again. A rush of emotion came with it; anger, utter sadness, confusion, and despair all flooded her mind and body, filling her up with more than she could handle, despite her sickness.
Twilight managed to work her way over to the kitchen, where at least it was a bit colder. The pony collapsed on the ground, exhausted. The coughing continued, taking up what breath and energy she had.
Eventually the coughing ceased and gave her some time to be alone with her thoughts and the heat. She did not move from where she had fallen, seeing no reason to move, or even to try. Twilight’s eyes were half open, half alive. Her hair was withered, and her coat had gone from being the least bit glossy to resembling that of a corpse. She tried to swallow, but found herself to be unable. She did not stir, and accepted the fact. Her eyes slowly moved to the clock on the wall, Rarity had been gone for over an hour. It would not have taken her an hour to search Sugar Cube Corner. Rarity’s words came back to Twilight.
“Hope is never truly lost, it is just harder to see sometimes.”
Twilight continued to stare at the clock. The staggered movement of the second hand comforted her somehow. Perhaps it was because it never changed, it was always perfect. It always worked. It had worked when she had first come to Ponyville, it ticked in the same way when Discord had turned Ponyville upside-down and her friends had all turned on each other. It hadn’t faltered in keeping time when the Changelings had managed to infiltrate Canterlot’s defenses. Now, on the longest day, it continued to keep time for her. It told her when she was supposed to be somewhere, when she needed to send her reports to the Prin— Celestia, and when somepony was supposed to meet her; as Rarity was supposed to have done by now. Twilight’s blurred eyes managed to focus on the numbers, reading that Rarity should have been back by now. After all, it had been…too long since she left.
Rarity…her last friend…be at peace, and know you were loved by all.
A tear managed to work its way out one of the hopeless eyes and roll partially down her face before the heat devoured it. Twilight tried to smile, and found herself unable. With one last effort, Twilight opened her mouth to speak. The heat rushed down her, raking everything with a scalding finger. Twilight closed her eyes, exhaled, and lay still.
Outside, in the dead of night, the sun blazed.
“I must apologize, it is not often that I am treating another doctor.”
“I must admit that I didn’t expect to see myself here.”
“Well don’t feel ashamed. Sometimes all you need is somepony to hear you out.”
“Is that what we are supposed to do?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Somepony trusted me to hear them out and help them. I didn’t and kept telling him that everything was fine even though it wasn’t. Come to think of it, I am surprised that I didn’t notice the problem sooner. What kind of doctor am I that I don’t see that I am not helping those who trust me to do my job? To help them?”
“No one is perfect. You can’t blame yourself if you didn’t see what you could see.”
“But I should have seen it. Or at least tried to understand. He was in fear, and pain, and deep regret the final hours of his life. Even now, I don’t fully understand it.”
“Tell me what happened.”
***
I am a doctor of all fields: medicine, psychology, surgery, emotions. I work for many different groups: military, science, community. I travel, make house calls, and am on stand-by for emergency calls. I have dealt with many different tragedies and complex situations, and somehow have managed to come out all right. Still sane, still willing to help, somehow I could still find some motivation to go on. Help is a bountiful thing, especially during times of hardship. But for the times when nopony helps because they dare not to is when I volunteer to help. It was this type of situation that I found a message at my doorstep one bright morning. A great discovery had been made: the wreckage of an airship that had gone down over a rather treacherous section of badlands in the desert that neighbors Equestria. This particular airship had been a mystery because it had simply disappeared after a single distress call had gone out. The ship had vanished, and all search efforts were futile. The vessel was gone, and with it the hope of knowing what had happened. But the fateful day a group of ponies who had been out climbing the rugged terrain had decided to traverse the cliff into that asylum of crevasses and spires. It was there that they sighted the wreck: precariously placed on the edge of a cliff about fifty feet down from the rim of a canyon. Beyond the ship lay a great abyss, stretching down to where the light has feared to tread.
The mission of investigating and excavating the wreckage had been given to a Captain Ecridor, a military pony often called out to investigate the causes of disasters, by Royal Guard Captain Shining Armor. Due to the usual tranquility of Equestria, the captain was quite pleased to have a job and began to search for a team to work with. I had been with the good captain twice before. Once was for a search and rescue operation on some forsaken spit of rock out in the middle of a mountain range, and the other was tracking down a dragon within the Everfree forest and to evict it. He knew his job, and he did it well. Those who worked with him on a regular basis knew of his fiery nature and risky strategies, but for some reason stayed on. So when the message requesting my help arrived, how could I refuse?
By the time I had arrived at the scene, almost all of the crew was there. Ponies of every profession that could possibly of use were there: guards, archeologists, scientists, monks, undertakers, search and rescue, professional explorers, and me, the doctor.
“Doc!” a loud, commanding voice called out to me. It was not a guess as to whom the voice belonged to. Before I could even turn a large hoof smacked into my shoulder in greeting. Ecridor stood next to me, a large, red Pegasus. “Look lively Doc, we have stuff to do. I hope you brought all of the supplies you may need because we really don’t have a whole lot in terms of medical supplies. C’mon Doc, keep up. We set you up with a room to do your work in if necessary, but we really aren’t expecting too many injuries if anything at all. You many need to tell us what killed these poor souls trapped inside the ship if there are suspicions, but it seems straightforward enough…”
“Captain.”
“…but then again nothing sinks an Equestria airship and gets away with it. I hope, GET TO WORK YOU, that there wasn’t any foul play or else whoever did it will have to answer to me and the cold, dark reality of a cell beneath Canterlot or my name isn’t Captain Barien Stonestep Ecridor, which it is might I add.”
“Captain.”
“Well you have probably used that doctor mind of yours to notice that we have everypony here who needs to be plus some. Nothing is going to be left out and we have both messengers and airships of our own to tell Shining Armor what we may need to uncover the mystery of what exactly happened here. Look lively Doc, we need to keep moving. Well do you want to see your quarters or the wreck first?”
“I think…”
“The wreck it is then, give your gear to that pony there. Take those to the Doc’s quarters, thanks son. Anyway the wreck is right over here and it is quite lucky that we are able to do anything with it, as it is on the edge of a ledge, and what a ledge it is. Wish we had some of those climbers here. Crazy ponies, scrambling all over those rocks, but then again each to their own. I mean you wouldn’t catch me on one of those ropes. They are not safe, you know. But the ledge just drops away into the gaping mouth of the earth. Nothing down there but the beginning of time and answers to the deepest questions. Like that? We brought in a philosopher pony from one of the schools up in Canterlot and he told me that. I might have to start using that from now on. You’ve been pretty quite Doc, something up?”
“Well…” I waited but he didn’t say anything, “I’m just wondering about the ship itself. Did anyone survive the crash that we know of?”
“No pony survived that we can tell. You would think that if somepony survived they would have told us. Sailors are among the loyalist of comrades, they don’t rest until their mates do.”
We arrived at the rim of the canyon. A series of lifts had been rigged up to transport the ponies who were working on the site itself. It was a wonder how the ship didn’t just topple over into the gloom. Something wanted it to be kept up. The ship itself was a disaster. The sails that kept the ship up were completely gone, the masts snapped and splintered. The hull itself, once a magnificent piece of carpentry, was now a pile of rubble. Thankfully the weather hadn’t gotten to it too much, being sheltered by the canyon. I could do nothing more than to shake my head.
“Do we know if…they are still trapped inside?” I asked the Captain at length.
“Seems likely, Doc. Course we won’t know for sure until we get that hull opened up. What they are doing now is testing it for soft spots to see where they can open it up and get in as easy as possible. Well you are going to want to see your room now. I’ll see you in the mess hall. It’s not really a hall, just that small grey structure that we set up over there. Yeah, that’s the one.”
By the time I had disengaged myself from Ecridor and found my way, with some guidance, to my quarters, the day was starting to close. The first stars could be seen twinkling, pushed into view by Luna’s power. A small building had been erected to house the workers. It was actually quite impressive that a building large enough to house at least thirty ponies had been made in such a short time. My quarters had much to be desired, a small bed, a counter, sink, a few drawers and a table. Not much, but should push come to shove it would be hard to operate in here. But it should not come to that. I found my saddlebags containing my medical gear resting near the door and my suitcase next to them. At least they were inside the room.
After setting up my gear, I attempted to check the time only to realize that my watch had stopped. No matter, perhaps one of the other ponies on site had a watch I could borrow. I stepped out of my room and nearly bumped into another pony just outside of my door.
“Sorry about that.” I said, placing a hoof to the wall to steady myself.
“No I’m sorry, I wanted to welcome you.” The latter replied.
“Hmm? Uh…thank you.” It was a bit strange, but what can you do?
“I’ve been assigned to help you out in any way that I can. Be your assistant until this is over and done with.”
The other pony was tall and yellow. He had bright eyes and seemed a bit nervous. His cutie mark resembled an eye with something strange about it. I couldn’t place it though.
“Well, thank you for coming over. What is your name?”
“It’s…Caption.”
“Caption?” Really?
“Yeah.”
“Ok, Caption.” I was unsure of why I had been assigned an assistant, but I hadn’t recognized any other medical ponies yet, and this more or less confirmed that suspicion. “Do you have any medical training?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Psychological?”
“You mean like your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Nope.”
I sighed. I can understand an assistant, but how about giving me an assistant that had training in field? “So what do you do?”
“I’m a cook.”
“A cook?” Ok, a cook can work with medical operations, but for the other practices he would be useless. I made a mental note to talk to Ecridor about possibly reviewing the options. “Well, I’m glad to have your help.”
I moved past him and he started to follow me.
“Oh, I just remembered. I need my glasses. Can you get them for me? They should be in the left hand saddlebag. Just be careful not to break my instruments.”
“Sure thing. Say, what’s your name?”
I told him.
“But you can just call me Doctor. Everyone does.”
As Caption was searching for my elusive glasses, I made my way to the small grey building where I was supposed to find a meal. I made my way inside and found some predictably bad food waiting for me. It seems the ponies of a higher ranking were allowed to eat here. I tasted the food, unsure of what it exactly was. It was not the worst I had ever eaten, but it was foul enough to put me off of everything else than water and a tonic I had brought with me. Caption eventually found me and presented me with my pair of small, round reading glasses that doubled for surgery.
“So Caption, how long have you been here?” I asked him, taking a drink.
“Just arrived. Wasn’t too eager to be here.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He turned away, finishing the conversation.
We chatted for a while longer about our pasts and what all we had done. He was very impressed at my long list of accomplishments in the various realms of being a doctor. He also recollected unto me his past of first serving as a guard in Canterlot, but it was monotonous work, so he became a sailor, of both air and sea. For all of my accomplishments, he had a tale of danger and exploration to match. I took notice that nearly all of them occurred during his time at sea. At times I pressed into his days of both being a guard and on airships, thinking about our purpose in this ghastly place, yet he brushed these off and either continued to talk about the sea or ask me a question.
The evening drifted on, turning into night. Few ponies were left in the defined mess hall. Caption had finished my dinner, and the tonic and water had kept me full, if not a bit light headed. A little sway in the system was not a bad thing.
“Caption, I need to talk to Ecridor for a moment, will you stay here for a moment?”
“Course.” He nodded.
I dawned my glasses and strode over to where the Captain was sitting, alone. He nodded to me as I approached.
“So Doc, how’s the room?”
“Small and uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t expect any less on a trip with you.”
He chuckled and fell silent. We stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, unsure of who wanted to speak first. As luck would have it, he did. “Did you have a question or something?”
“Yes, it’s about my…assistant.” I spoke quietly so only the Captain could hear.
“Assistant? Oh, that pony, Caption, or whatever he wants to be called. What about him?”
“Why was he assigned to me? He doesn’t know a thing about being a doctor, much less helping me.”
“He wasn’t assigned.”
“Beg your pardon?” I was drawn back.
“He wasn’t assigned. He volunteered to be with you. Don’t know why though.”
He saw my next question coming. I pondered for a moment, glancing back at Caption, who was staring off into space.”
“What’s his real name?”
“Capitulate.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, his name literally means to give up, to surrender; to fall. Not very good luck if you ask me. I can see why he changed it. Poor fellow. Made him come, I did. Boy did he argue against it, but duty calls and he didn’t have much of a choice.”
“He was that against coming?”
The Captain nodded. “There’s always bound to be one who has some problem with going. Too bad, you are needed and you go or face punishment.”
“Where was he assigned before this?” I asked, trying to sound offhand. Caption had already lied about being assigned to me, more than likely he had fabricated a few other details as well.
“That’s a question for him, Doc.”
I nodded, bid farewell to the Captain, who encouraged me to take Caption over to the wreck; as they were supposed to have it lit up. I thanked him and walked back over to my companion.
“So Ecridor thinks that you and I should walk over to the wreck so you can get a look at it.”
Caption stood upright and shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No…I won’t. I…I…can’t.” he continued to shake his head.
I looked down my spectacles at him. “Why?”
“I…um…don’t like wrecks. I used to fly and…they scare me.”
“Well, you will have to see it at least once, so why not get it over with?”
“Why will I have to see it?”
“You need to have a visual about what we are dealing with. Even if it is just once.”
“That’s all it’ll take.” He muttered and looked to the ground.
“Yeah, that’s all it will take. Just one glance and you are done.” I wasn’t a psychologist for nothing. I could find my way around the mind of a scared or worried pony more easily than I care to admit. “Don’t worry, you aren’t in the air. You aren’t crashing and since you know airships you may be able to tell what happened, even with just one glance.
“I won’t know.” He stated indignantly.
“You won’t know unless you try. You wanted to be my assistant, and I need you to assist me over to the wreck and give it a glance and you will see something you are familiar with.”
“That’s what I’m worried about… NO!” Caption yelled and dropped to the floor, his hooves over his head, eyes shut tightly and head shaking.
This was unexpected, to say the least. I kneeled down next to him and began to probe his mind again with encouragement. Something about the wreck scared him badly; badly enough that he became incapacitated by the mention of it. The thing that had pushed him to the edge was the idea that he might recognize something. But what? He had been a sailor and a guard, perhaps the best way was to pressure him into believing in himself, or face humiliation.
“Caption, you fear this. But you control this fear. You were sent here event though you didn’t want to go. Something bothers you but you fought through it to come here, that’s a massive step. But if you run now, then you will always run. You will let this fear control you till the day that you die, and I won’t let that happen; I see too much courage in you. You’ve done far harder and more terrifying things than this. Use the pony I heard about tonight to stare down his adversary, even if it is for no more than a second. Do this and you will have earned the right to deny any other task, for you know that it does not control you.”
Caption looked up at me, almost startled by what I had said. His eyes brightened and grew sharp. He stood and stared down at me, smiling. He nodded and I smiled.
We approached the rim. I could see the blue glow of unicorn magic illuminating the pit; streaming up into the blackness to feed the stars. Caption began to fall behind, becoming unsure of himself. I motioned him forward, encouraging him. He slowly came to stand by me. The blue light shimmered off my glasses and I gave him an encouraging smile. Perhaps it was a good thing he was my assistant; perhaps he needed some help. I strode forward to peer down into the canyon. The wreck lay as it had previously, only now a ghostly haze surrounded it; cast by the workers to light their path upon the unholy carcass. Ponies stood around the rim looking down at the unicorns who proceeded to test the hull for some spot to breach. Caption was behind me, eyes fixated on the ground. I put a hoof around his neck and ushered him forward, but his eyes did not drop off the cliff. Instead, they met mine. I was met with sadness and an overwhelming fear. I nodded and smiled.
“Take a look. Just for a second.”
Slowly the eyes of the yellow pony shifted down towards the wreck.
“Ooh, it’s getting rather cold.” I said aloud, hunching my shoulders, looking up at the sky.
Caption screamed. Never in all of my time as a medic or a psychiatrist have I ever heard a scream that terrified. I’ve worked in asylums and mental hospitals. I’m used to screaming. Screaming that would cause any other pony to start running. But the scream that ripped from Caption’s mouth was an unearthly, shrill cry of every dark nightmare. He turned and ran, tripping over his own feet, but it did not even slow him.
“What was that?” The ponies surrounding the rim watched him flee. Utter bewilderment was painted upon their faces.
“I don’t know.” As I said it I began to regret forcing him to go through with it. But then again… “Hmm, it got warmer.”
When I had returned to my quarters a devastatingly dark room greeted me. There was not a sound save for a soft whimpering coming from within. I entered and clicked on the light. Caption was huddled against the far wall of the room, withdrawn as far as he could possibly be, red streaks where tears had fallen marked his face. By the sounds he was making it seemed that he should still have been weeping for whatever reason, but it seems that all of his tears had been spent. This was not how I had anticipated my first day out here, an assigned partner who, it turns out, had actually volunteered to be with me. Now he was huddled against the cold, metal wall. What had happened? What did I miss? Caption had not yet heard my entrance, nor even acknowledged the fact that the light was on as his eyes were clamped shut.
“Caption.”
He screamed again as his eyes opened. I shuddered internally but managed to keep my own gasp held within.
“Doc…Doc.” He began to cry once again, minus the actual tears. I knelt down and placed a hoof on him after a brief moment of hesitation.
“Caption, you’re safe.”
“No…I’m not.” He whimpered and shook. “I’m never going to be safe again.”
“Why?”
“Because of them.” His voice was drenched with both fright and sadness. Whoever “they” were, he didn’t mind referring to them.
“Why, who are they?” I pressed.
“No.” he shook his head and matched my gaze. I shuddered once again. “You don’t deserve it.”
“Maybe I do,” I tried, “I made you look at the wreck. What did you see?”
“I saw them! All of them!” he suddenly moved very close to me. “They hate me.”
“Why?” Maybe one answer will lead to another.
But he didn’t answer. He curled back up and rocked back and forth. I eventually persuaded him to lie down on the bed and try to get to sleep. Eventually he did fall into sleep and didn’t seem to be troubled; yet anyway. I exited the room and locked the door behind me. If something was after him, he wasn’t getting in.
I walked outside, and glanced about. Almost nopony was about; as they should be. The wreck was barely illuminated, well from the rim, anyway. The moon had decided not to emerge, and the stars were dim. A guard trotted by, nodded at me, and departed into the dark. I moved away from the door to the living complex and walked over to the rim to stare down at the wreck. Only a couple of ponies were down there, pegasai taking pictures of the more inaccessible sections. Yet there was something down there, I could feel it. Yet it was eluding me. Just outside of the corner of my eye…
“You’re up late.”
I turned to see a pony in a white lab coat at my side, looking down at the same sight.
“So are you.” I pointed out.
He chuckled.
“The accusation is not misplaced, I will give you that. What I guess I meant was what are you doing out here?”
“Just...work.” I replied bitterly. My new friend didn’t take the hint.
“Aren’t we all?” he smiled. “Aren’t we all… What part of Equestria are you from?”
“Originally, Trottingham. But I live all over.” Why did I tell him that?
“I see. Me? I also come from all over. Seen everything from Celestia’s throne room to the darkest regions of the Everfree.” His overly cheerful expression did not help.
“Do I know you?” I turned towards him. It was not that I meant to be hostile, yet there was enough on my mind that a questioning pony was not exactly the greatest company.
“I should not think so. In any case if we have met both of us have forgotten, which is a good thing.”
“Why is that?”
“Because the insult of forgetfulness is shared by both parties, so no true blame can be laid down without equal servings.” He stated the matter very simply, as if this was light conversation.
“You don’t say?”
“I do say. In fact, I say enough to want to introduce myself once again, if indeed we have met; which we have not.” He smiled. I frowned. “My name is…”
“Yes?”
“You know, I’m not rightly sure what my name is. Been a while since I have had to use it. Let’s make one shall we? How about the name…Utopia? Is that a good name?”
“You tell me.” He had forgotten his name? How is that even possible?
“Then in that case it is. Now you have the upper hoof on me, so may I have the pleasure of your name?”
I told him.
“Ah, and a fine name it is. I expect we shall meet again, you and I.”
“If you say so.” I wanted this pony gone so I could concentrate on the greater matter at hoof.
“I do say.”
With that he vanished into the gloom. I espied his leave and shook my head. Maybe I just needed some sleep, my mind was not as sharp as it usually was, and I would be no help to my new friend if I could not think. I began to walk back to my quarters. Hopefully Caption was still peacefully asleep. The world of sleep and dreams can be infinitely more distressing than that of the corporeal. Halting a few yards from the entrance to the complex, I took a moment to glance up and observe the night sky. Clouds now blotted any sign of light. I retraced the previous events up to my arrival and shook my head; there was nothing to help me. A short chill swept through me, I shivered in turn. Giving one last glance into the blackness I walked back to enter the building. My arrival was greeted with another cold gust.
“Where’s the window?” I whispered to myself, glancing about. Yet there were no windows to be seen. I’ll have to get them in the morning.
I stood before my own door once again, fumbling through the dark for the key. I muttered angrily to myself, the fatigue of the day taking hold.
Sound.
I froze, ears straining against silence to hear anything. After a few moments I began to search for the key again, while still listening for anything.
Sound. Soft, but nearby.
I held still for a moment, then in an impulse put my ear to the door. Somepony on the other side was scratching on the door with their hoof; trying to get out. I don’t know if I ever even did find my key; all I knew was that by the time the door was open some damage had occurred to it. As soon as I opened the door another, colder breeze cut through me and passed on. There was no point in even entering the room; it was impossible to see anything. I fumbled with a hoof upon the wall for the light. Click, the room was illuminated; yet maybe it would have been better if it were still darkened. The table was overturned, the contents of my luggage was strewn about the room, and at my hooves was…there was no point in trying to maintain a professional profile, I gasped, swore, and scrambled back, tripping over my own hooves in a futile attempt to escape. Caption was sprawled upon the floor by the base of the door. His face was to the ground; his coat was bloody with multiple scratches and cuts. The stains on his hooves, however, revealed the one responsible for those.
“Caption…what? How?” I spluttered, not believing my own eyes.
A very weak reply came. I turned myself around and inched over to him. He continued to whisper as I approached. His voice was raspy and dry. He must have screamed himself hoarse.
“I can’t hear you, what did you say?” I called out to him as I moved next to him.
There was a moment of silence, then “Why did you lock the door?”
“I wanted to protect you.”
He looked up at me; now it was my turn to scream. I just about threw myself against the opposite side of the hallway, cracking my head upon the hard wall in the process. The bloodied mess moved his hooves out and pulled himself towards me; the bloodshot eyes boring into my own. I could do nothing more than stay paralyzed and watch him come closer. Eventually he was practically on top of me, leaning forward to speak.
“Thank you.” He whispered through the blood trickling from his mouth, and collapsed.
***
The next morning found me in a tent on the other side of camp, nearly sleepless, shocked, and speechless. I was lying on some sort of cot. I was quite uncomfortable. My head throbbed, sore from where it had hit the wall. My eyes cracked open; everything was a blur. I moaned and shifted, lifting a hoof to rub the back of my head, but winced upon contact.
“Ah, you’re awake Doctor, good.”
I attempted to make some sort of response, but any words became scattered. My vision was clearing, yet the speaker was still out of focus.
“Captain, he’s awake.” It was a soft, feminine voice.
I stirred and propped myself up; yet my head rejected this and forced me to lie back down. With my slowly increasing vision I viewed the blurry form of another pony enter the room.
“Ah, Doc. You know, I bring you because you are a magnificent doctor, who helps when he is needed and is good company. But now you cause a great scare to run around the camp. This situation is difficult enough, but now we’ve got everypony spooked, not to mention our best doctor needs some rest. Yeah, I mean you. Who else?”
Ecridor. He towered above me. I once again attempted to rise in response, but a large hoof forced me back down. “Relax, Doc. Don’t trouble yourself for my sake. We may still need you yet.”
“Hmm.” I replied. Ecridor chuckled.
“You’re alright Doc. How are you feeling?”
I winced and attempted to speak, yet found my throat dry and coarse. Glancing about the small tent, I descried a glass of water on a table near my head and motioned to it. The female pony attending to me retrieved it and brought it over. After a couple of sips and a few coughs, I found my voice.
“I’ve been better, Captain, I can tell you that much.” My voice was still quiet, and a bit raspy.
“Well you sound the part. So what happened, exactly?”
“Hmm?” I mumbled through another drink.
“I mean what happened last night. My, oh my, everypony turns in for the night, and all of a sudden you’re yelling for help.”
“Oh, of course. I was just yelling because Caption…Oh, where is he? I need to tend to him!” Two of my hooves managed to get themselves over the edge of the cot before Ecridor simply shoved them back.
“Keep still, Doc. He’s alright, in a different room than the one he trashed, sure, but suited for medical purposes.”
“What?” I blinked up at the larger pony.
“I mean we called in an emergency crew from Canterlot and they are tending to him. Some special search and rescue ponies that somepony here knew about. You were in no condition to be operating; yet your skills did save Caption’s life. Lost a lot of blood, you know.”
“Yes, I remember that.” I grew impatient. “Well, how is he doing?”
“As I said, he lost a lot of blood and you kept him alive, and now he’s being cared for. What more do you want to know?”
I fell silent to collect my thoughts and peruse what memories I had of the previous night. It had all happened in such an extraneous manner that most of it felt surreal, that it couldn’t have happened. Once or twice I began to speak, yet withdrew my question in fear of revealing too much too soon. All would be said, but the order of facts presented was vital, should he know anything that would be helpful to me, much less Caption.
“When I found him, Caption was covered in blood. He had cuts and gashes up and down his body. There was also a fair amount of blood on his hooves. I was not examining those wounds last night, did the ponies attending to him now mention anything about those?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact they did.” Ecridor confirmed, nodding. “I was going to ask you about that. They said they were self inflicted.”
I shook my head. I had suspected, but it didn’t make sense. “How about his face?”
“I was sort of hoping you could explain to me why it looks like that.”
“Sorry, when I found him he was already…like that.”
“Poor soul. I saw him before they started patching him back up; he was awake. The way he looked at me at that moment…” he paused. His hazel eyes shifted downward. “I’ve been in the business of gruesome and grisly for a long time, you know that. That single second when he looked up at me with those eyes, with that face, there are few things out there that could be as horrifying as that. Do you think he did that himself?”
“I can’t see how it couldn’t have been him. He was the only one in there. I heard sounds coming from the other side of the door, managed to get it open fairly quick, it was dark, I switched on the light, and the rest is known.”
“That’s it? Nothing came out when you opened the door?”
“Nothing except a gust of cold air. By the way, can you get someone to close the windows in there?”
“Why? It was warm last night.”
“There were some rather cold spots, especially in the complex.”
“Sure, I’ll send somepony to get those. Now then, you have to work me through this. Start at the beginning, or whenever is appropriate.”
I sighed and moved to sit up. Ecridor moved to prevent me, but stopped at my refusal to lie still. Eventually, with many groans and discomforts, I managed to get myself upright, my hooves felt weak upon the floor. I waited for the dizziness that had resulted from the movement to subside before starting.
“All this started after I had spoken to you. I mentioned to him that you thought it would be a beneficial thing to take a look at the wreck and he started to become quite worried and flat out refused several times. Surely you must have heard him.”
Ecridor shook his head, “Nope, I left right after I was done talking to you. Didn’t hear any of that.”
“Hmm. Well, I eventually talked him into confronting his fears, like I do with my patients who are dealing with phobias. It was a simple thing: face the wreck and overcome your fear. I talked him into going, as I said, and a few moments later we were at the rim and he took a quick glance.” I took another drink and the female attendant refilled the glass.
“Ok, and?”
“He screamed. Something terrified him. Did you hear a scream anytime last night?”
“Now that you mention it, I did hear somepony scream. Didn’t pay much attention to it, as it didn’t keep up. I assume that was our good friend Caption?”
I nodded. “He fled and I followed. Found him curled up in a corner of my room. When I began to talk to him he mentioned that he saw ‘them’.”
Ecridor’s brow furled. “Them? Did he say anything else?”
“He went on to say that he saw all of them. Not sure exactly what that means.” I leaned back against the wall of the tent, but pulled back once it started to give way. “He also mentioned that they hated him.”
“They…hate him. Bit outlandish, if you ask me.” He sounded skeptical.
“What he said.” I could not help but to shake my head once again. “Well anyway I got him to sleep and went back out to look at the wreck to see if I had missed anything. But there was nopony there who seemed out of place. After a bit of time out there I headed back, and I’ve told you the rest.”
“Hmm. There was nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Nothing. It was dark, clouds were blotting out the moon, a few cold breezes and…somepony in a lab coat.”
“Somepony in a lab coat? Doc, that’s something out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, but I think he was drunk or something.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He had forgotten his name.”
“You’re right, that does sound like a little bit too much.” Ecridor turned to the attendant. “Remind me to remind the ponies we have working here that we don’t drink. At least they don’t drink.”
“Was the room cleaned up?”
“What’s that? Oh, um, no. Not yet. Since Caption diced himself up with a few of your tools, so we needed to both keep them and in the wake of what has happened—”
“He used my tools?” At this I stood up to face the Captain directly.
“Yeah, thought that you knew that already.”
“Captain? You’re needed for a moment.” The attendant appeared at Ecridor’s side.
The large, red pony excused himself from my presence and stepped out of the tent. I still had a splitting headache, but found myself able to walk. I received another glass of water and some time to think. This process was cut quite short as Ecridor stuck his head back in the tent.
“You said that something is after Caption?”
“That’s the feeling I get but he didn’t say that directly.” I replied.
Ecridor disappeared outside again momentarily, and then stuck his head back in and gestured. “You better come with me.”
***
“Say that again from the beginning.”
“Well Doctor, as you were probably aware we were testing the hull of the airship in order to find a point of entry as to cause the least amount of damage to the ship itself and risk ruining vital information that may lie within.” The speaker was another pony whose name I hadn’t quite caught yet. Apparently he had been working down on the wreck itself, managing the work ponies, and analyzing the area.
“Right, I knew that.” I replied dismissively, “You were working which part of the hull?”
“The side closest to the cliff. We started with the outside so we would know if additional materials were needed for scaffolding to stretch across the pit to the other, rather inaccessible, side of the ship.”
“Fair enough, and you said you just starting testing this side of the hull this morning?”
“Right, just before dawn. We wanted to have the analysis done by noon so we could finally get inside.”
We were trotting towards the wreck; ponies were moving frantically, and who could blame them? News such as this was enough to double the rate of both your work and heart. Alongside myself were Ecridor, the pony I had been talking to and another who had joined shortly after we had left the tent. I had not yet met her, but Ecridor seemed to have no trouble with her joining us.
“But it was just twenty minutes ago that we heard it. We didn’t report it right away because we wanted to make sure.” The pony continued; glancing in my direction occasionally, “but now…We’re still not even positive.”
“If what you say is true, then that’s all we need.” Ecridor chimed in. “Are things underway?”
“Yes sir, we still don’t know the best point to enter, and that is even more crucial now.”
“I don’t believe it,” I sighed, “how long has this thing been here?”
“Several years?” the pony replied, shrugging as best he could during a trot.
“And somepony is still alive in there?” It was the filly on the other side of Ecridor who had finally spoken up.
“Look all we know is that we are testing the hull, we take a hammer and rap the thing three times in three spots of close proximity to each other, we take a moment to do our thing and then there’s a reply of three knocks. We try it again, and we get the same result. So we try it on another section, nothing. We go back, three more knocks for three more knocks.”
We had arrived at the rim. There were multiple ground crews surrounding the wreckage now, testing, analyzing and a number of exercises I was could not identify. Ecridor was aggravated and thoughtful.
“So Caption sees this thing for, as you say, no more than a second and practically loses his mind, runs off screaming, and then says he saw them?” Ecridor addressed me without taking his eyes from the wreck.
“That’s correct.” I affirmed.
“Later you secure him in the medical quarters for his protection, and come back to see that he has practically killed himself.” He regarded me with a look I could not invest in. “Not twenty four hours later our crews here claim that somepony could be alive in there. Do you suppose there is a bit of a coincidence there?”
“Normally I would say yes and that there is another explanation; but warranting the events of late, I’m not as expeditious to dismiss it as mere coincidence. Whatever it is, it sure isn’t serendipity.” I fell silent, thinking upon strange thoughts, before coming to my next point. “This wreck has been here for a few years. Unless the crew had plenty of supplies and somehow survived the fall, and had no choice but to remain imprisoned for all of that time, which is incredibly improbable, then there is no real chance that anypony is alive. I’m a doctor, remember.”
“I know you are, Doc.” Ecridor shook his head, and shuffled his hooves. “But even you can’t just dismiss this.”
“I would think that you would dismiss it faster than I would.”
“I’ve been in service to the Princess for a long time. I’ve seen the impossible many times over again.”
“Fair enough.” I relapsed into silence and thought. “Are you aware that our good friend Caption was a sailor aboard an airship for a while?”
“Can’t say that I am.” The red pony replied. “How about we pay Caption a visit for some friendly questioning?”
“I admit I have been desiring the same, but I held my tongue. I was under the impression he was still in operation.”
“Good guess, but these ponies from Canterlot work really fast; do a good job though.”
***
Ecridor was not mistaken in his claim concerning the efficiency of the Canterlot medical ponies. Caption’s operation had gone smoothly in a very timely manner. The claim was not delimited there, however; as Caption was also well enough to be visited and conversed with. His face was well nigh utterly concealed beneath a thick assortment of wrapping and bandages in an attempt to hide the physiognomic nightmare that was his visage. His eyes were the only visible aspects of his face; falling upon us as we entered. The first expression that could be deciphered through them was one of terror, but they relaxed upon recognition. The fear was still very present, however. Somehow he still had the ability to speak through whatever treatment had been given to his mouth. For the first few minutes of our conversation, Caption was quite reluctant to speak the events that had brought him to his current state. Yet, with prompting and encouragement, his mental defenses were slowly being lowered. At first we didn’t address the events directly, but talked concerning his past, forming a general depiction of his background, much of which he had already related to me during my talk with him, yet a great amount was new to me.
“So, why did you decide to quit the sky sailing business?” Ecridor asked after writing down Caption’s answer to the previous question.
“Couldn’t cope.” His reply was muffled.
“Why not?”
“Afraid of heights.” His eyes were averted.
“Is that why you didn’t want to see the wreck?”
No response.
“Caption…”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Caption’s silence persisted, his eyes continued to avoid Ecridor’s and his body was shifted away slightly.
“Did you ever witness a wreck?” I inquired calmly.
The eyes of the bandaged pony met my own. It was strange; they were still afraid, but understanding. It was clear to me that the wreck brought back something from his days aboard an airship; the trick was to discover what. In the instant that his eyes met with mine, a silent transaction occurred. I didn’t need to press further for a vocalized reply as Ecridor would require for his own benefit. Instead, I merely nodded and continued.
“I can not begin to try and understand what you witnessed, but it is now in the past. I also can’t just tell you that you need to stop reliving that event, as I understand it is impossible. Anypony who has undergone a tragedy must relive it; it’s our nature to remember.” His eyes remained locked on mine as I moved closer. “But there must be a reason why you carry it with you. If I may take a guess, it’s guilt.”
Tears began to run from the wide eyes of the yellow pony. Caption’s muffled sobs were clearly heard in the now silent room.
“Here, I’ll open the door, let in some fresh air.” Ecridor pressed a large hoof down upon the latch to allow the door to slowly swing open. The cold air began to infiltrate the room.
It was in this moment that I descried Caption looking upon the door. He began to shake, his eyes were relived of peace, and the previous fear we had first encountered returned.
“Caption, what’s wrong?” I moved closer.
“Look!” The word was spoken as if it had barely escaped his mouth. I turned, to see Ecridor standing next to the door, looking puzzled.
“What is it?” I asked turning back, but Caption’s eyelids were clenched tightly together. He had relapsed into silence. I laid a hoof on his arm to find it trembling.
“Captain, let’s let him be.” I said softly as I moved away to give Caption time alone.
Ecridor gave me a confused look and I could only reply with an expression of ‘I don’t know’. He cast a look back at Caption and followed me out. As we left we heard Caption speaking softly to the chilly air.
“Please, I’m sorry. Please.” Came the desperate voice. It was barely audible, and eventually fell to silence as we took our absence.
We strode through the camp in a general silence. I was preoccupied by the recent conversation with Caption, while Ecridor dawned an aggravated expression, which it seemed he intended to keep. There was no question as to our destination, for the only place that could possibly hold the answers to the riddles, besides the mental realm of Caption, was the derelict. We approached the brink of the chasm and gazed down at the soulless shell. We pressed our curiosity as to the progress breaching the integument of the ship, and what could be discovered relating to the identity of the incongruous reply to the hammering. As such the time we inquired, nothing new was known as to the sounds, yet the information would be passed along should there be any development.
“I have a thought.” I announced to the red pony.
“Hmm?”
“Caption clearly witnessed a wreck during his duration as an airship sailor; I know he didn’t directly admit to it, but instill some trust in me on this matter. I know the way around the expressions of ponies, and it was quite evident to me that I had touched on a tender subject upon my question.” I turned my gaze from the Captain to the derelict. It was such a strange thing, previously just a thing of interest to, majorly, the archeologists of Equestria, as well as a few military ponies and interested parties for their own secretive reasons. Now there was a chance for life, and a pony on the edge of falling into pure insanity. “I believe he feels guilty.”
“Guilty?” Ecridor snorted. “Why?”
“Think about it; if you had seen a truly horrific event, or even experienced it, such as the crash of an airship, and had regret towards something during those frantic moments, wouldn’t similar events spark the same feelings of remorse?”
“I suppose so. But Doc, feelings of remorse don’t cause ponies to mutilate their own hides, or even cause half the strange things our friend Caption has been doing.”
“What you say is true.” I mused. Remorse alone is not enough of a mental antagonist to provoke the dolor Caption had endured during our brief time here. Anguish, remorse, and another factor… “Oh.”
“Doc?”
“I…think we’ve been looking at this whole thing incorrectly.”
“How’s that?”
“Caption mentioned that he used to sail on airships, but when I tried to hear more about that time in his life, he changed the subject. He mentioned to me that he was assigned to be my assistant, yet you inform me that he volunteered for the position. Why would he, a pony with no medical or psychological experience, want to be near a doctor on this site?”
“So they can be healed when they start to crack.” Ecridor shrugged.
“Because a doctor is far away from the action. Doctors heal and mend those who have been damaged and are placed in a serene realm; far away from the cause of harm. He didn’t want to come, and as such he tried to get as far away from the derelict as he could. Why? It wasn’t just the fact that it was a wreck and he had experienced one before, there was something about this wreck that scared him. Something he recognized about it.”
“A similar circumstance?”
“Yeah, or the identical circumstance.” I turned my flank to the rim and stared out at the camp and the spires of the desert beyond. “Caption hasn’t mentioned being bothered by the surrounding area, just the pit. I would hazard a prediction that this is not his first encounter with the desert. A single second of visual contact with the crash and all hell breaks loose.”
“Riddle me this, Doc. If he’s that scared of this thing, and he knew it as, if I’m understanding you correctly, seen this thing before, then why did he let you convince him to look at the thing?” Ecridor moved his large frame to the side of the cliff.
“Simple, taking a look and confronting something that has haunted him all these years is what he truly desired. The lurking fear resurfaced when the prospect was mentioned, yet he did want to overcome what has been holding him back all this time.”
“But it proved too much for him.” Ecridor finished, and I nodded my confirmation to the suspicion.
“Then all of this takes a turn. Beyond the mere sight of the wreck being too much, he notes that he saw ‘them’.”
“I was meaning to ask you about that.” Ecridor interjected. “Why didn’t you ask him about that when we were just questioning him?”
“It wasn’t the right time to bring that up. As I mentioned, he says he saw ‘them’. Whoever they are, he is terrified of them, and it is my understanding that they are after him. He confided in me that they hate him, as I told you. That seems a decent motive to try and attack him, or whatever they are doing. Did you notice his eyes when we first entered the room after his operation? At first he was very scared, but upon recognition he relaxed a bit. He was expecting somepony else.”
“Like ‘them’?”
“Who else could evoke that response?” I replied anxiously, “When you opened the door, that same fear we had been greeted with returned.”
“He said something about looking?”
“Right, yet there was nopony there. It is possible whoever it was passed by outside the room, haunting him from a distance?”
Conversation momentarily fell away. Ecridor dug at the ground a bit with his hooves, I cleaned my glasses.
“What you said just now,” Ecridor said slowly, “why did you use the word ‘haunted’?”
“Why did we leave him alone?” I said, turning in the direction of Caption’s confinement, already in mid-gallop. Ecridor, keeping pace both in stride and mind, had already started forward.
Our arrival was met with an icy-cold room, the shallow breath of the yellow pony rose only to disappear. Caption himself had regained his hooves, and stood before us, tattered bandages scattered about his legs, only the wrappings around his visage remained. His now bloodshot eyes were filled with pity, and a kind, yet fearful sorrow.
“Caption…I’m so sorry.” I leaned against the door, gasping.
“It’s alright Doctor.” He gasped out in turn.
“It’s freezing in here!” Ecridor exclaimed. He strode over to the panel on the adjacent wall that contained the instrument to assist in the regulation of temperature. “Seventy. Thing must be broken.”
“It’s working.” Caption lowered his head; he sobbed. If there were any more tears they would run freely. “I’m sorry, I’m a coward.”
“No, you’re not.” I rebuked.
“I am. I wanted to be brave, so I looked. Then I was too scared to do what was needed.”
“Caption, is that your wreck out there?” There was no point avoiding the inevitable.
“I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to die, so I left them.” His voice broke once again, as he sunk to he knees. “I don’t want to die.”
“You didn’t, and you won’t.” I moved closer, yet Ecridor stuck a hoof out in warning not to go further. I didn’t understand, yet did not discard the gesture
“They told me to.” Caption continued to heave. “Told me that I have to pay my debt. They hurt me. Told me things. Crept behind my eyes and lived in my dreams when I tried to sleep. They kept telling me that it was time, old payments had to be fulfilled.”
“Who are they?”
“I tried, Doctor, I really did. I even used some of your tools, but I was too scared to kill myself. I couldn’t go on, and they wouldn’t let me live. I didn’t have the courage to pick up the scalpel again.” He looked up and met my eyes. “Then you saved me. Thank you, but it’s time.”
“Captain! Captain!” a voice rang through the room from outside as a pony I recognized as the one who had reported that there was a potential response from the wreck, burst through the entrance.
“I’m busy, come back later.” Ecridor hastily replied.
“But Captain, I must insist—”
“Not now. Later.”
“With all due respect, I need to—”
Ecridor turned to face the pony directly. I do not know what look was given, but the intrusive pony silently bowed out.
“Thanks, Captain.” Caption half-smiled towards Ecridor. “For everything. But to you, my friend, my doctor, I thank you the most out of anypony. You gave me courage to do what is right.”
“It’s freezing in here.” Ecridor stated again.
“It will pass.” Caption replied as he stood. The bandages covering his face began to turn a sickening shade of crimson as his equally red eyes continued to match our own.
Without warning, Caption bolted out of the room. It took a moment for Ecridor and me to realize what had happened, but we were soon tearing after him. His lengthy legs gave him a decisive advantage, yet the reopening wounds that covered his hide should have slowed him through pain alone; yet he was pressed forward through some unnatural drive. The bitter cold seemed to follow, causing an unwelcomed fog upon the lenses of my glasses. Caption continued his sprint until he had arrived at the rim of the chasm. He paused, and turned to look back at us. I also halted, my hooves sliding upon the rock.
“Caption.” I whispered.
Caption, the scared, yellow pony gave me one last sad look, turned and flung himself from the edge.
The world stood still as I ran to the edge, accompanied by Ecridor. It was too late; the crushing blackness had consumed him, lost to time forever.
“What did he do?” Ecridor asked, bewildered. I turned my gaze towards the vile wreck.
“Exactly what he wanted to do, a brave thing.”
It had been Caption’s turn to cry these last two days without end; I figured it was my turn. Shame, disgrace, and the opinion of those around me were lost to the void with the body of my friend. Somewhere in my peripherals the intrusive pony returned.
“Do we have a spare carriage available and perhaps a couple of pegasai who would be willing to take the good doctor back home?” I heard Ecridor softly ask the latter. I did not hear the response, but it was predictable.
“Now, what were you trying to tell me?” Ecridor asked louder.
“We managed to finally access the inside of the ship, and find the room where the tapping was coming from.”
“And?”
“There was a piece of rubble hanging by a couple of cables swinging back and forth.”
“Well then, coincidence it is.” Ecridor turned to leave, yet was detained.
“Well, sir, actually.” The pony glanced behind him. “There was something else.”
“What else?”
“Against the wall that’s parallel to the hull, there was the, well the remains, of a pony with a hammer held in its mouth.”
Ecridor looked at me, my eyes widened, yet not in a startled way. He nodded and turned back to the pony. “That’s a story for your grandfoals. Best leave that out of your report.”
***
“I have never been one to cast my lot in with those of a supernatural or cursed existence. I do not believe in the old stories concerning spirits and dark creatures. The monsters of the Everfree, or the restless residents of churchyards and morgues have never come to me in mind or body, and I have stayed my own distance. Yet I can find no explanation to set my mind at ease concerning the events in that desert over the course of those two days. Some warm summer nights I feel a chill sweep through my home, and something just disappears outside the edge of my sight each time. At first I shuddered at these strange occurrences, yet I believe that it is a brave thing to embrace it. Well, that’s my story. I can’t say I really wanted any advice, just somepony to talk to. So thank you.”
“You’re most welcome, Doc.”
