Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong.....Bwong
“What in the name of sweet Celestia is that?
Are those bells? Spike stop playing with the town bells I’m trying to sleep, I didn’t sleep much last night.” I grumble in my half attempt to roll over and cast off the persistent clamoring of clapper striking the bowl.
“You know load noises this early is strictly against house rule number eight anyways. Are you looking to loose out on that emerald I promised you for your....special dinner tonight?”
Now that’s unusual, Spike doesn’t normally violate the house rules, especially with a succulent gem treat on the line. He is also acutely aware of how dis-tempered I get over broken rules. Come to think of it, it’s a tad odd for him to even be up this early if he really had as much fun with the CMC as he had been expecting. This duo of thought drifts through my sleep addled mind for some time before finally my prefrontal cortex sums two and two and arrives at five meaning that what ever a rampaging Spike was doing to Ponyville .... Could wait for a few more hours of reduced neuron activity.
I attempt to block out the sound and return to slumber, but, with the mental image of Celestia hitting me over the head with a copy of Starswirls’ texts for my horrid use logic and deduction abilities, I decide to finally get up and see what the racket is all about. I really must have been out of it to have almost convinced myself that with the “Spike doesn’t violate house rules” line to. I mean he breaks them all the time. It’s actually gotten rather irritating lately....but Spike is a good dragon.
As if the world is trying to play games with me, the rolling of the bells comes to a halt with the tenth toll, well before I was able to pin down a source in my sleep induced stupor. A glance outside yields that the only strange occurrence was that there were new banners on the side of the town hall, Why Mayor Mare had decided on black today was not a question I was suited to answer without Rarity on hand even with full deductive reasoning to employ.
Now with my egress from my cocoon of blankets I to notice the distinct chill of an unheated home. My breath escapes into a ghostly phantasm of cooling water molecules and I feel a constant chill deep inside. Sure its winter outside, and the weather team had apparently chosen a somberly quite snow for the day, but Spike always lights the fireplace the first thing after wakening. He would be a strange dragon indeed to tolerate a cold such as this. Were I running a morgue the temperature would be acceptable, but by the Sisters this is a library! It should be warm and toasty. Perhaps to incentive him to warm the place up soon I should find him and bribe him with a bit of a story time by a lit fire.
Now there’s an idea!
I know he hates to admit it because he’s so “grown up” now, but I know for a fact that he still loves it when I curl up with him and read that silly fantasy novel to him. When was the last time that we had really done that? A few months perhaps? In any case it always ends with a smiling baby dragon sitting on my lap, and a happy heart in my chest. Yes, definitely an idea I’ll have to look forward to tonight with Spike.
Now back to the matters at hand. Namely getting up and deducing the source of that clamor from earlier. With a mildly stifled yawn I stand up and and work through some simple stretches supposed to increase blood flow and hasten the awakening process.
Step 1: Morning stretching done. Step 2: Bathroom and Teeth brushing.
Half way through this process I noticed that not only was there no more toothpaste left in the tube there was no spare in the bathroom supply drawer under the sink. Here I was with an already wet toothbrush and no tooth paste. Wasted water, the worst kind.
But why was there no toothpaste? Surely Spike had gotten some more when I had sent him to the market when I had him fetch the items for.....whatever my current project is I am working on. Perhaps he simply never returned from the store before going out for the night. Typical. Ask Spike to do one little chore like go for supplies and he even doesn’t do it. He has been starting to slack off late...he’s been getting better with chores. I mean it was a big night for him, after all it was his.....But what was it? Why was last night a big night for him? More importantly why had I let him go out? I never let him stay out past curfew. Oh well, He’ll surly be awake before I finish getting dressed and get down stairs. He’s probably making breakfast now . In fact I think I smell a bit of acrid smoke from down below. He must have burnt the toast again that clumsy....silly dragon.
It is how ever troubling that I cant remember. What is that darn project I was working on? I get a few feelings of....sadness? Or is it anger?Guilt? Maybe that’s it was. I was probably working on emotional compulsion magic again. Something for my stress or Fluttershy’s timidness. That must have been it. It would make sense too. Working on emotional compulsion magic can have some weird temporary side effects for non changelings. It's even been know to strip memories. Shining Armor is still trying to regain some of his, and his spell was being run by a queen changeling I should ask Spike when I get down to breakfast. It would be quite the conundrum to have a memory block in place. Not only that but I find the idea of it distasteful. Sure, some ponies prefer to take that rout after a traumatic experience but the thought of losing any memories just seems....wrong to me. Unnatural even.
I choose to forgo Step 2 for today in light of the distinct lack of necessary supplies. That leaves just Step 3 in my morning preparation, clothes. I start shedding my loose night shirt and jeans while walking to the dresser. Why had I been wearing my jeans? They are far from the most comfortable of sleep wear. I must have gone to bed pretty late to be out of it. I cant think of any other reason and shrug it off. After rummaging through my dresser I get a sudden inclination and abandon by tried and true daily wardrobe of casual wear and decide to select a rather simple black dress from the closet. There is nothing ornate of aesthetically drawing about it, more a formal style that you would see at a day of royal court or a business meeting. Along with the dress I decide on a similarly simple pair of obsidian colored flats. My only allowance to fashion is a small decorative raven hued bow in my hair with a small flower in the center of it. Perhaps the mayor was on to something with those banners. I cant place my finger on it but today just strikes me as one of those black kinda days. A day to revel in the inky drab. All but the flow adorned in my hair that gets some color. A bit of an off pink with a hint of scaly shine.
With clothes now on I make my way down stairs only to find a bit of an odd sight. It’s not that’s down on the main landing but Applejack lost to slumber. Sure all the girls had come around last night as either a group or as individuals, but not too much more often then could be expected with Spikes.....dinner going on today. However, I think I would have remembered if one of the girls had stayed the night. It then also strikes me that while I can still smell the light stench of smoke, there is no activity in the kitchen. Well of course why would an adolescent, chore shirking......justifiably sleepy baby dragon be up this early after going out last night. I reach the bottom of the stares and begin walking past the slumbering Applejack on my way to the kitchen to do Spikes job for him, again....because today is special for him. About midway to my destination I subconsciously categorize this portion of the room as having the strongest presence of lingering smoke. Simultaneously, I step on a portion of floor that with a squeal of warping wood, yields much more than it should.
That’s right. This must be directly overhead of my basement lab. This must be where that blown out beam should be. I really must task Spike with it when I find him. I don’t know what I would do without my handydragon and number one assistant. Even though It was after all his fault. He knew house rule number one is never interrupt me while I work in the lab. It comes with both the hazards of a magical accident as well as retribution in punishment for a broken rule. The beam was part of the accidental portion and his punishment.....well I can’t remember it so it must not have been too severe. Right? It would be unnatural for me to not remember if I had been too harsh on him even if he deserved....even if it was an accident.
A rustling on the couch stirs me from my thoughts and reminds me that I’m not alone. The moan of the floor must have been enough to cut through the fog of unconsciousness such as how the ten tolls of the bell did for me. Well I wouldn’t have been alone per say. Spike used to sleep just down the hall.
As Applejack lifts up her head I notice that near where she had been resting was a book. Only two reasons to have a book nearby like that. A little late night reading before drifting off or the second being that they make make good pillows. I can attest to the latter of the two because it happens more times then I can count, usually after I act out the events of the former in that list. Applejack still looks drained of energy even with her just waking. Perhaps she didn’t sleep well or couldn’t get to sleep. That could also explain the book. Find something a little dry to read and it can put you right out.
" ‘Morning Twilight.” Applejack drawls out rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Good Morning AJ. Do you know what happened to Spike?” I reply wondering if she has any memory of last night that could shed some light on where my dragon could be hiding from his chores.....sleeping off a fun night.
With that Applejack stops rubbing her eyes quickly and the hint of a shadow crosses her face but it passes so quickly I dismiss it as probably nothing more then here trying to get out of her morning blues. She then fixes her gaze on me.
“No Hun, I don’t know. I was hoping you would tell me now that you’re awake. Do you remember what happened to him?”
“No I don’t. That’s why I was asking you. I woke up to bells from the town hall thinking it was him then come down to find the place is crypt cold and with out him cooking. In short I have no idea what happened to him.”
Her gaze seems piercing as if trying to capture the meaning of any word that I utter. It’s a bit disconcerting. AJ is always such a casual pony to talk to. After a few moments of that silent gaze she finely relents and responds.
“Well I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe I just had too much hope for a different answer from you. Why don’t we go to the kitchen an make some tea till the others get here. I sent them home late last night.”
With that she gets up from the couch. She grabs the book that had been next to her head and places it down on the end table next to where she had be laying down then moves off past me into the kitchen. From here I can see the title of the book, Stallion Freud’s Studien über Hysterie. Well that seems to confirm the dry read to induce sleep. As much as I love science, Psychology is one of those soft science fields that even I can find a little dull. I can’t imagine any reason why Applejack would have any interest in the subject.
I turn around and follow Applejack into the kitchen where she already has the kettle on the stove. I look around for my box of tea and see it over on the other side of the counter next to Spikes birthday....Why is there a cake on the counter. I would understand if I had found Pinkie Pie sleeping on my couch. Backing a cake in the middle of the night seems more her shtick than AJ’s. And what is with the candles. Surely ten is an unnecessary amount, and who puts a rock on a cake? An emerald seems like a bit of an extravagance even for a Pinkie cake, not to mention how bad it clashes with the pinkish color of the frosting. It’s not even the same color as the light green edging. Aesthetics I guess not exactly and important issue. I grab the box of tea and simply forget about the cake....or why I have it in the first place.
With the now whistling kettle AJ pours two glasses and I add a bag to each cup. Sitting down at the kitchen table Applejack takes a solemn sip of tea. She nods to the seat across from her in an indication to sit. I have to move the mess of a newspaper covering this side of the table but I take my seat. I’ll never understand why that dragon could never clean his own messes he used to just leaves the paper scattered another thing to talk him about when he wakes up.
“Why don’t you read the paper while we wait for the girls? You know where we’re going today right?” Applejack asks a bit hesitantly.
I start to open up the news paper when one article that looks clipped falls from the rest. Picking it up from the floor I reply
“Umm sure we were going to Spike’s......dinner right? At city hall?”
With my answer I can hear a light dejected sigh. I look over the paper to see AJ staring pensively into the void like depths of her black tea. “Yeah Twi, we’re going to his dinner.”
The following silence I hear so loud. Strange. I haven’t seen Applejack like this since that time she tried to take on her whole farm alone. Perhaps she really is just that sleepy. Best not to push it to much. I wouldn’t want to push her in to thoughts she is trying to hold back. I look back to the clipped portion of paper. It’s an obituary for a young colt. His age looked to be ten....eight years old.. I read through it and pretty quickly think I know why it was clipped. I try to read the date on the top....but its smudged all I can tell is its clearly not recent. The name.....also smudged but it looks like something with an e at the end of it. The worse offense is the picture the only discernible feature through the .....smudge is the light pink color of his coat. The smudges make it stranger now for my eyes to understand the mystery. This was uncalled for. How could the paper destroy the memory of this poor child like this. Someone loved this child dearly and to have their remembrance be corrupted like this needs an angry letter for me. I may be getting out of hand but I could never handle the destruction of Spike’s memory like that should, Celestia forbid, something happen to him. Sure sometimes his ability to ignore the rules would get on my nerves and sure I’ve occasionally contemplated hitting him with a strong compulsion spell if he ever broke too many rules or did something really bad like break rule number one....I would never put a spell on Spike. Emotional compulsion magic like that is very dangerous and backfires too easily. . For me to do that to I would have to act unnaturally against my number one assistant.
I keep reading the rest of the article. It mentions his love of comics and playing games with others. It then moves on to mention the poor colts tragic involvement in a magical accident with what the cornier thought was emotional compulsion magic but wasn’t sure. It concludes with the line that all of these do. “We ring the bells tomorrow....eight....times, once for each year of joy they had on this world.”
It’s a nice sentiment really. Too bad that spike won’t ever hear mine. This whole Alicorn immortality throws a wrench in any funeral plans you might have had. Well, c’est la vie.
“Anything catch your eye hun?” I hear drawing me away from the clipping.
“Not really just this out of date obituary that I need to write to the paper about.”
Another low sigh that I almost don’t catch due to the sudden knocking at that front door. I walk over and open it to find my friends all waiting outside. Oddly they too are dressed in black. I wonder if our connection through the Elements are starting to give us a hive mind. They all give a quick glance to AJ who in turn gives a slow shake of her head.
.....Bwong.....
“You ready to go sugar cube?” Applejack asks from behind me as she dons her hat.
.....Bwong.....
“Yeah I think so, though I do have one question that I remember was the reason for me coming downstairs this morning.”
.....Bwong.....
“What is that dear?” Rarity asks from the other side of my doorway
.....Bwong.....
“Well,” I start not really knowing where I’m going with this, “Who are they ringing the bells for at city hall?”
.....Bwong..........Bwong.....
“Sometimes.” Applejack begins.
.....Bwong..........Bwong..........Bwong.....
That same shadow from before flirts across Applejack’s face as she replies.
" You just shouldn’t ask for whom the bell tolls.”
.....Bwong.....
Author's Note
To any one that made it through this: Thank you.
I'm not really a writer but I love stories and sometimes I just get one stuck in my head and have to get it out. I got the general Idea for this one a while ago and just couldn't shake it. Perhaps unsurprisingly a combination of the John Donne poem and to a lesser extent the Metallica song kind of indirectly inspired the concept as well as the title.
Like I said I'm no writer so I wasn't aiming for any literary masterpiece but if you have questions, comments or meaningful criticisms I'll gladly take them for if I ever write another story. A lot of the things I put down have deeper meaning in my head but I'm not sure If it came across that way. I was shooting for the proto-Lovecraftian/ Turn Of the Screw type of thing where you are given enough information to know something is wrong but you have to kinda piece some of the bits together and its never super clear.
I wanted to do this as a Celestia/Luna instead of Twi/Spike but I was to far into the story with twi and spike to change it after the fact. I may write a different one with Celestia/Luna if I can think of a way to do it with out just hitting the same story beats.
Thanks again for reading.
Aim High All
