Hunt and Toll

by I_Post_Ponies

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, Sad, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 13061

Designated as a guardian of death, one pony is forced to take on a task he never asked for.

All I can do is watch, now. Can you imagine what it's like? I can see everything, and do nothing. Where is the justice in this?

What's the point of me, anyways?

Published 2012-10-19 02:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-10-31 01:57:48 UTC

Ch. 1: Take Me Somewhere Nice

I hate the dark.

The black sky swallowed up my anxiety and amplified it. It felt almost as if the heavens were darker tonight: the stars dimmer and the moon less pronounced. Cool air fell across my back, sending a shiver up and down my body. My coat did little to protect me this evening. The night was silent but for the occasional chirp of a cricket. Nopony wandered the streets of Ponyville this late; the night belonged to other things.

This night, however, belonged to me as well.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. It was just my nerves getting to me; it had to be. This was my first job working solo. I really didn’t think it was all that big of a deal yesterday, but now that I’m here, facing down the task, I’m not so sure.

I waited from my spot in the bushes, focusing on the house in front of me. The mark—no, you idiot, she has a name: Gold Flower—was inside with her father. Soon enough, though, he would get some air in the back yard. That would be my chance to get some time alone with Gold. Light had told me I should have some kind of speech, a thought for me to share with her before carrying out my task. I had just shrugged him off; he hadn’t protested. He usually doesn’t.

A loud creak caught my attention and I quickly turned my ear toward the back of the house. The familiar sound of the back door rattling confirmed that Gold’s father was now outside. It was time to move.

I leapt out of the bush and made my way toward the front door. I was sure to keep my hoofsteps soft and quiet. Although I figured I’d have plenty of time with Gold before her father returned, it would not be smart to push my luck. The front door opened with no resistance, but I left it open just a crack.

The light blinded me a moment, forcing me to stand still and squint as my eyes adjusted. I could practically hear my heart begin to pound in earnest, and sweat had begun to form on my brow. Am I really this nervous?

Thankfully, the entryway was empty, leaving my presence unnoticed for now. I listened for the sounds of conversation, but heard nothing but the flickering of candlelight. Though my hooves felt heavy, I still managed to slink over to Gold’s room. The door was open, allowing another beam of light to spill out into the hallway. I paused for a moment, shook my head and took one last deep breath—

—then stepped into her room.

The first thing I noticed was how yellow it was. Wallpaper, appliances, furniture, sheets, all different shades of the color of the sun. Toys appropriate for a filly of Gold’s age were laid across the room on chairs, dressers, and the floor. The room was lit by a candle sitting on a nightstand adjacent Gold’s bed. As far as I was concerned, the only ugly thing in this room was me. Me, and the necessary task I had come here for.

Gold herself was lying down, encased in golden sheets. Her coat seemed healthy enough, but her face was weary. She was looking directly at me, and I frowned when I saw no flicker of recognition in her eyes. Even she had forgotten.

“Who-who are you?” she asked weakly.

I stepped closer to the bed, but she shifted away, giving me pause. “My name is Silken Sound. I’m just here to talk. Don’t you remember me?”

“R-remember?”

“Yesterday, Gold. I spoke with you and your dad. Said I would come visit you tonight.” I leaned forward in anticipation.

Her face contorted, searching for a memory I hoped she hadn’t lost. This was something I often saw when I reminded ponies about myself. It always brought conflicting emotions forth from me; I couldn’t decide whether I was glad to see that contortion or just disappointed.

“Oh, yeah, I remember you now. But isn’t it really late? And wouldn’t my dad have to let you in? Where is he?”

“He just stepped outside, he’ll be back in a little bit,” I said, making my way over to the side of the bed. The details of her face became clearer as I approached; the lines became more defined, the glaze in her eyes became hazier, and the fatigue seemed like it could take her at any moment.

I knew, in fact, that it would.

“So, uh, Gold, what did you do today?”

I gritted my teeth as I berated myself silently. Never been good with conversation. The question came out as awkwardly as a penguin trying to fly.

“Oooh, I did plenty. I had a chance to practice my art, though I still have a long ways to go. See?” She grabbed a sketch off of the endtable next to her and showed it to me. I simply nodded. “I’ve gone through most of my dad’s book collection at this point, too. My dad read to me a little, but I think he knows I prefer to read it myself. I mean, I’m not a little filly anymore, c’mon!” She giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof. “A couple of my friends came by again today, Gentle and Runalong. I’ll owe them major friend points when I get out of here.” She stopped and smiled for a moment. “You know, I used to think being stuck in bed all day was a real cramp, but it’s not so bad.”

I faked a smile. “That’s a good attitude to have.”

She nodded. “My dad always said to look on the bright side.”

“Do you—” I stopped. Was it really appropriate to ask...? “Have you been keeping your chin up?”

“Of course!” she said as emphatically as she could muster. One of her forehooves raised up but it barely came off of the bed before falling back down. “Oh, I’m a lot more tired than I thought I was.” She devolved into a fit of coughing. I watched in pain, in helplessness. There was nothing that could be done for her, and I had to accept that.

“See? It’s not so bad.”

Raising an eyebrow, I said, “You’re awful at humor.”

“Hey!” she said through another bout of coughing. “Don’t make fun of the sick pony.”

All that coughing still hadn’t wiped the smile off of her face.

“I’ll do my best.”

I watched her carefully as her eyes wandered around the room. No matter how many times I’d seen Light do this, no matter how ready I thought I was for this job, nothing could keep that smile from getting to me.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“I really wanted to introduce you to my dad, but... I’m really tired. I’ll have to do it tomorrow.”

“I’ve already met him, Gold. I was here yesterday, remember?” My words bordered on pleading.

“Yesterday?” Her words had begun to trail off, weakening with each second. “I don’t... do I know you? I can’t seem to recall...” With the fading of her speech, her eyes closed.

My smile wavered and disappeared. I leaned in and placed my ear on her stomach. One final breath escaped her lungs and she moved no more.

Something strange happens when I’m faced with death. Maybe it’s just me it happens to, maybe others feel it as well. Everything around me disappears. I’m a stranger in my own head, and in that moment, the world seems clear to me. Everything just makes sense, but then I’m stripped of that clarity. I become lost in a world that is lost.

I looked at Gold’s body, knowing my task here now came down to a single, simple act. I slowly reached out a hoof, but hesitated. My hoof hovered inches above her face. The face that had, just moments ago, smiled at me.

My face twisted into a fierce grimace as I touched Gold’s body. A light mist started to come forth where my hoof had made contact. It shone in a bright gold, brilliant as the sun and pulsing with the beat of a heart. I could feel the mist graze my coat as it rose into the air, a precious last symbol of the vitality Gold shared with me through her dying words. The otherworldly substance spoke to me, culminating Gold’s life in one last whisper of wind. I watched the mist evaporate, leaving me, once again, alone.

My hoof remained on Gold’s body, though. Her coat was still soft, her skin still warm.

I withdrew my hoof like it was on fire. Light had tried to hammer the thought into me that we could do nothing but make it easier, but that didn’t make it easy. I felt anger start to swell within me; my frustration could stay bottled up no longer. In one swift motion, I turned from the bed and threw Gold’s toys off the endtable next to me. My teeth were clenched harder than they ever had been before. I was nothing short of disgusted with... well, I didn’t know what to be angry with, but that didn’t stop the rage from building. A twisted roar escaped my mouth. It didn’t even sound like me. What sort of cruel world kills a filly like that and then goes and forces me to watch it, to substantiate it?

Gold’s father must have heard the racket I made, because he was standing in the door to Gold’s room, looking on me with confusion and horror. I was a despicable thing, huffing and red with fury. He looked to Gold, then to me, trying to discern what had happened. I didn’t give him the chance.

Charging through him, I ran out of the room and down the hallway, desperate to get away, to never see that face again. Gold’s father yelled something at my back. It was probably a curse of some kind. I couldn’t make it out; I didn’t care.

I was done with this place.

“C’mon, Firestreak, don’t mess with me like this. I’m Silken Sound—the Silken Sound! We’ve known each other since grade school!”

The unicorn I was addressing continued to look at me as if I was acting like Pinkie Pie. “I-I don’t know why you’re insisting I know you. If you really did go to school with me, we never talked. I’m sorry, I’ve never met you before.”

My frustration forced a groan from my mouth. I slammed a hoof into the ground, but refrained from speaking further. It wasn’t Firestreak’s fault: something—or someone—must have cast a spell on him. He wasn’t one to joke around with something like this.

But why cast the same spell on everyone in Ponyville? Why would somepony want all memory of me erased? Who could do this, even?

I couldn’t stand to be around Firestreak anymore. I took off at a trot toward home. At least a building couldn’t forget who lived in it. As I made my way back, frustration turned to despair. If I couldn’t find a way to reverse this, I could be stuck as an outsider forever. I’d never meet a nice mare, never make any friends, just be some ghost, some shadow in a forgettable town. I’d be lost forever, and no one would know.

A familiar voice called out to me. “Hey, colt! Made up your mind, yet? Things gotten bad enough for you to finally listen to me?”

My hooves beat against the ground as I broke into a canter. “Why can’t you just leave me alone, crazy old coot?” The yellow-coated stallion had been following me for a couple days now. “Nopony else has a problem with that!” I yelled back at him.

The unicorn kept pace with me; he must have been younger than I thought. “That would not be prudent for somepony in my position. And I’m hardly old, you’re just young!” he hollered back.

“Everypony around here is going crazy!”

“I know why, Silken Sound! I know why no one can seem to remember you. I know why you don’t get hungry anymore.” He paused to catch his breath, breaking his speech for a moment. “I know why you see some ponies glow!”

I came to a halt, whipping my head to face the unicorn chasing me. A scowl on my face, I growled at the mystery stallion. “How the heck do you know about that? Who are you?”

He skidded to a stop next to me, kicking up a small cloud of dust. I closed my eyes and turned away, waiting for it to settle. “Got your attention now, have I? I know these things, young colt, because I recognize that cutie mark.”

Ch. 2: White Noise

The morning calls of a bird perched outside my window woke me up. Letting out a yawn, I slowly sat up in my bed, collecting my legs underneath me.

Still groggy, I turned my head to look at my cutie mark, the thing that marred my ash-blue coat and stood in contrast to my shallow brown mane; the thing that symbolized the start of all this trouble—my new ‘duty’ as Light called it. I hadn’t known anything about it until Light Lost had caught up with me and explained.

I’m a doorpony of death. A Shepard, as Light called us. And last night...

I grimaced at the thought. Last night didn’t matter anymore. I had to move on, and the first step was getting out of bed. I hopped off my mattress and shook my whole body, up and down, in an effort to clear the drowsiness from my system. It helped a little, though my head was still fogged with memories. I grabbed a quick glass of water and headed out the door, almost slamming it behind me. This grabbed the attention of someone else in the hallway outside of my apartment.

“Oy, waddaya know! Somepony actually lives there! I was wondering when that apartment would be taken.” The stallion walked up to me and offered his hoof. “Rough Beat’s the name. What might I call you?”

“No One,” I replied, sarcasm heavy on my voice.

He gave my shoulder a light jab with his elbow. “You’re pulling my leg, right? I can’t honestly believe somepony’s parents would name their foal No One!”

“Mine didn’t. I took the name myself.” I pushed my way past him, no interest in another drawn-out introduction.

“Alright, then, No! Welcome to Shady Glade Apartments!”

Hurrying down the stairs, I rolled my eyes.

I noticed a few clouds dotting the sky as I made my way down the street. The cobblestone felt rough on my hooves like it always did, but today I didn’t care. I brushed up against ponies now and then—easy to avoid in a small town like this—but got nothing more than a scoff for it.

Light Lost’s place wasn’t too far; he lived in a modest house just outside of West Park. It’s actually the closest point in town to the cemetery, which lies further west and a bit of a walk out of town. A little morbid for my tastes, but it did come with the job.

He was a one-story, one-bed, one-bath kind of pony. I don’t visit his place too often, now that I think about it. Any time we spend together (which has been far too much over the last month, if you ask me) involves wandering around town, looking for the next pony in need of Guidance. He’s been teaching me about my new role, too. As far as I know, there isn’t really a formal method to it other than the experienced Guardians taking newcomers under their wing—or in Light’s case, horn.

Taking in a deep breath, I knocked on Light’s door.

“Come in, Silk. It’s unlocked,” he called from inside.

Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that—Light always knows it’s me at the door without checking. Being in the same situation as me, Light and I are the only ponies in Ponyville able to remember each other for any significant amount of time. Since nopony remembers him, he’s never visited by anyone except me.

The door creaked open as I pushed it in, welcoming me to the tiny abode of my teacher. Light was currently making breakfast. His dirty yellow coat and solid blue mane were the same I remembered. I stepped inside, taking in the smell of eggs and peppers; he must be whipping up some breakfast. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but refrained from voicing my question.

“I’ve got enough for both of us.”

I was more concerned with why he chose to make breakfast in the first place. The couch pattern made a good distraction as I waited for Light to finish cooking. We didn’t talk; I didn’t know what to say, and he never brought anything up. The silence only lasted until he brought an omelette over.

“Green and red peppers with mushrooms. Hope you’re not allergic to any of it,” he stated plainly.

“No, that’s fine. I’m not really allergic to any foods.”

He nodded and replied, “Good to know,” and sat down next to me. “Seen the weather schedule for today? Sunny all day, though I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a few clouds; those weather ponies seem to take it a bit too easy at times.” A yellow glow, much like the color of his coat, enveloped his utensils and he began to eat.

The weather? I come over after the... thing last night, and he brings up the weather?

“Yeah, I guess. Wasn’t paying attention,” I grumbled, turning my attention to the omelette in front of me. Honestly, I didn’t know whether to stare it to death or just eat it. While Shepards don’t get hungry, food can still taste good. I looked over to Light, and, seeing him partake, I leaned down and took a bite.

The taste was not something I expected. Light had put a lot more than just peppers and mushrooms in there. My expression must have given me away, as Light gave a sharp laugh.

“Didn’t expect the old stallion to know how to cook, did you?” he said with a smug look on his face. Light set his utensils down and swallowed. “So, you know anything about cooking? It can be quite useful, even in our situation.”

“No, I never had much of a—” I cut myself off. “Wait a damn second. I just got back from the worst night in my entire life you want to sit here and talk about the weather and cooking? No bloody way, Light!”

His expression remained calm. “Alright, alright. I was just waiting for you. It’s your subject to bring up.”

“You can consider it ‘brought up’.”

Light waited a moment before continuing, leaning his head on his forehooves. “Tell me what you’re thinking about it, then. Doesn’t matter where you start.”

I stood up off of the couch in a huff. “Oh, don’t give me that! You know exactly how this stuff goes, you’ve been doing it for years! You had a first time, too. You know what it’s like! I’m not going to stand here and let you talk down to me like I’m in some other world, cause you’re right here in the muck with me!” I began pacing around the couch, desperately trying to release at least some of this pent-up energy.

The house suddenly seemed much smaller.

“So you’re angry. Angry at what, exactly?” His eyes began to follow me. “Perhaps it’s me?”

“Yes? I don’t know. Why did you pick her for my first solo Guiding? Why didn’t you insist I have some speech prepared? You let me go in there with little more than a sense of duty! What kind of teacher are you?”

He leaned back in his chair. “You picked her, remember? And I cannot force you to do something you do not wish to do; I offered my advice on the speech. You disregarded it. I believe, lastly, that you will find a sense of duty can be quite powerful in the right situations and with the right pony.”

The aura of tranquility that surrounded him only served to agitate me further. My steps became heavier and the wood shuddered underneath my hooves. “This is balls! This is all completely balls! I’m an immortal damn thief of magical souls and this whole society has devolved to nothing more than bloody bucking balls!” Standing still for a moment, I pointed a hoof at Light. “And you’re just nuts. Nighttime? Seriously? You don’t even know what the Hunt looks like or when it happens, you just insist on Guiding at night because you wet yourself at the thought of death finally catching up with you! Where’s the fair play, Light? We have a time, too!”

Abruptly, Light got up, slamming his hooves on the floor as he stood upright. “That is not up for debate! We take necessary precautions because we have a duty and can not afford to be careless.”

I scoffed at him and went back to pacing. “It’s an excuse, not a precaution,” I grumbled to myself.

“I—” Light’s voice trailed off. I locked onto him with a glare, watching him again release the tension from his body. He spoke again, this time in a much more restrained tone, “I want us to be safe, and not just for our sakes.”

I said nothing in reply, but my gaze did not soften. I knew there wasn’t any good reason to be mad at Light. Annoyed, perhaps, but this fury I had acquired was not of his doing. It was the system, more than anything. Perhaps I should ask him more about that when I didn’t feel like strangling somepony.

Once the excess tension drained from my system, further pacing became pointless. I stopped and sat back down on the couch. Sick of the silence between us, I voiced the first question that came to mind.

“Why the breakfast?”

Light had since settled back in his chair, eyes closed, but opened one at hearing the question. “My teacher did the same for me the day after my first Guiding. Wasn’t omelettes, but I have no idea how to prepare a proper Witherton-style garden wrap. Besides, I figured a hot breakfast would help more.” He let the answer hang in the air for a bit. “Was I right?”

‘Right’, eh? That word works a lot different when you’re a Shepard.

“As right as you could be.” I took another bite of my omelette. It would have been a waste to let it get cold. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Was it... ten years, now? It’s all I know, anymore. I’m starting to forget what my life was like. Kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

I frowned. “Yeah. If it wasn’t for the memory thing, this gig might not be half-bad. Wish I could ask whoever started this whole thing why they did that.”

“It may have been done for the persistent effect that immortals would have on society had ponies been able to remember them. Or, as another pony called it, ripples.”

It was my second time to be surprised this morning. My eyes snapped to Light and I sat up straight. “You know why nopony can remember us? And the reason is ‘ripples’?”

He waited to finish chewing another bite of his omelette before continuing. “I can’t claim to know anything. Just some theory I heard.”

“So it’s only a theory, then?”

“Yes. Something to think about, at the very least.” He stood and picked up his empty plate and utensils. “Done with that?” he asked, gesturing to my plate. I quickly stuffed the remainder of the omelette in my mouth, smiled, and nodded to him. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed my plate with a yellow glow and took it to the kitchen.

I hesitated before asking my next question; often, Light could be... touchy on the subject. “So, um, is the Hunt related to these ripples?”

There was a fraction of a stutter in Light’s movements. He set the plates down perhaps a bit too hard. “Such a thing is possible. I don’t think about it often, and when I do, my thoughts on it take me down a different path. The Hunt, I believe, is a beast of darker origins.” A rag floated over to Light, and he began to rub the dishes in the sink.

“It’s a beast, then?” I chimed in.

“That is what I believe,” he replied curtly.

I fumbled with my hooves, thinking of what to say next. There were questions on my mind, sure, but I didn’t know where to start. The room no longer smelled of eggs and peppers, but soap and heat. I still felt cramped.

“Why do you think the Hunt cannot, er, take regular ponies? Why does it only target Shepards?”

“Silken Sound, I know nothing more on this subject than what I have heard from other ponies and my own speculation. It is something I do not try to dwell on.”

Turning to Light, I caught his eyes. My gaze spoke, ‘I need to know this.’ Light, however, met my gaze with a glare that rebuffed, ‘We’re done.’

I was rather taken aback by his reaction. The pony sitting across from me always seemed more open to talking; goddess knows he did enough of it. We’d once delved into the history of Shepards, discussed the new society I’d been ‘born’ into, and other specifics of my new duty. But now—now I sat in the room with somepony else.

And I was not convinced.

“I don’t think we’re done, yet,” I said, temper returning to my voice. “You’re talking like you have some personal experience with the Hunt—the one thing that can kill me—and you’re not letting me in on it. Do ya think, Light Lost, that maybe I care about that stuff too? Maybe I have a right to know how to keep myself alive?”

“You aren’t ready for that knowledge, colt. Even if you were, I wouldn’t tell you about my encounter. Nopony else deserves to live through it, even if only in their nightmares. And it would be in your nightmares.” His voice became as sharp as his glare.

“So you want me dead, then? You’d like me to flap around like a fish out of water until the Hunt comes and takes me?” My hooves had begun gesturing in wide arcs as my tone flared. “Cause that’s what you’re doing by keeping me in the dark!”

“That’s not—” Light sighed, “—that’s not my intention, Silk. I only wish to protect—”

“I don’t need to be protected! I ama stallion, not a colt!” I screamed. “Let me choose whether to fear this or not! Let me toss and turn through sleepless nights if I wish to!” Red heat flushed to my face. “Buck you, you pretentious, self-centered prick! I don’t want to die!” Fury seethed beneath my skin, a great flame of hostility seeking release. I needed to give it release. I looked over at Light, then my hoof... and bolted out of that house like it was on fire.

Why am I running again?

Eventually, I ended up under a tree in West Park. I ran around the park for a short while before sitting down to recuperate. I also kept an eye on Light’s house; I wanted to know if he’d come out in search of me or let me stew on my own. So far, the door had remained closed.

Sweat dripped off my chin as I leaned up against the tree. My ears pounded with my pulse and my chest heaved up and down with the tempo of my breathing. I looked at the sky; it had become overcast since this morning. I suppose Light was right about the weatherponies being lazy. For a moment, perhaps, I could find peace.

That peace was shattered near-instantly.

A pony was on fire. At least, that’s how he appeared to me. I’d never seen a glow so bright. Even though I was several meters from the path he walk on, I could swear I felt heat coming off of him. I scanned the area, searching for somepony else to at least react to this bizarre spectacle, but I quickly remembered nopony else could see it.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. I had no idea what to do; this was the first time I’d seen a pony require Guiding with no notice and without the advising company of Light. Instead of freezing up, though, I jumped to my feet and set after the shining earth pony.

“Hey, hey!” I called out.

He stopped, turned around, and greeted me with a smile as I strode up. His dark burnt-orange coat blended in with the surrounding glow, giving him an appearance not unlike a heath in flame. His mane and tail were short and colored a dark green, like moss in the shade. I almost expected them to burn off. A sling hung on his neck, holding a bouquet of lilacs.

The glow he emanated calmed the closer I got, but the heat did not.

“Oh, hello, there! Have we met?” he asked, far too cheery for the predicament he was in.

“No, likely not. I’m just a little lost. New to town and everything. Perhaps we’re going the same direction. Where are you headed?”

“I’m headed back to my house. Just had a wonderful jog out this way, and planned to say hi to somepony, but it seems the weatherponies have changed their minds about the weather today. I live near the library. Perhaps you know where that is?”

I saw an excuse to follow him, and took it. “The library! That’s exactly where I’m headed! Would you mind if I tagged along?”

“Not at all!” he replied with a smile. “But before we get going...” He held out a hoof. “I’m Shallow Water.”

I took his hoof and gave it a hearty shake. “Silken Sound, but everyone calls me Silk.”

We made small talk on the way back to his place, but my mind was elsewhere. How was I supposed to deal with this? This situation had jumped upon me so suddenly. Should I try to comfort him? Doesn’t seem like he needs it, though. I tried to look at it logically. A stallion with no apparent health problems, in a pretty good mood, but glowing fiercely... perhaps his death would be accidental?

I abruptly came back to the world, now paying close attention to our surroundings, looking for possible sites where a fatal accident might take place. As I searched, a curious little thought entered my mind...

I threw a foreleg in front of Shallow, stopping him.

A shocked smile appeared on his face as he turned to me. “I know, I couldn’t believe it either! I mean, a watermelon? How does that even fit?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No, not that. I, uh, just remember I heard stories about out-of-control carriages coming down this street. Figure we should, er, be really careful!”

He shrugged. “If you say so. Didn’t you mention you were new here? The only time I remember any carriages going rogue was over a month ago when we had that Mare-Do-Well running around.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued, “Have I told you about my sweetheart, yet? I’ve got all sorts of stories about her!”

My eyes continued to survey the area as I shook my head. At least one of us is going to have to pay attention.

The trek to Shallow’s house was far too tense for my liking. The constant assault on my nerves brought me back to my colthood, when I used to jump at every little thing that lived in the dark. One would think the sun would make things easier—but not today. Every time anything moved near us, I’d tense up.

“Well, look at that! They’re finally fixing up that roof!”

“What?” I asked. Shallow pointed to a roof down the street. The construction obscured most of the road. If we walked past it, we’d still have to come awfully close, and there were some rather large wood planks up there. This was exactly what I’d been looking out for.

“Say, Shallow, why don’t we take a detour? I’m really nervous around, uh, construction sites.”

He looked at me, still wearing that stupid smile he’d had on the entire trip. “Why, that’s just like my sweetheart. I mean, it’s loud noises in general, but that still reminds me of her. You ever met? Lilac Scent. Oh, that reminds me of another good story, too—”

I cut him off. “No, sorry, don’t know her. Say, we could just walk behind these stores, couldn’t we? Let’s go,” I said, practically dragging him along.

“You must be in an awful rush to get to the library! But I think we might have time for just one more story. How about it?”

Rolling my eyes, I grumbled a “yes.”

“I’m starting to like you, Silk! One time, Lilac and I had construction—not unlike this here—outside of our house for a week! She curled up next to me every day, making little peeps every time a hammer struck.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I always hugged her close and told her not to worry, but that rarely did much good.”

“Maybe,” I said half-heartedly. My focus was on the rooftop. This was his life; I needed to be careful. For whatever reason, he insisted on keeping his pace to a walk, putting a little extra bounce in each step. My attempts at hurrying him were only met with resistance.

“You should show proper respect for a story’s pacing! I’ll hurry when I’m done. Now, one day Lilac and I were trekking alongside the Everfree. Lilac was all riled up, knowing how dangerous it was. And it just so happened that, on this particular day, a very loud dragon had taken up residence in a nearby mountain! So—”

Suddenly, a great boom came from the street, followed by a loud crack just seconds later. Shallow and I ran out from behind the store we’d just passed and looked for the source of the noise. Lying on the road were two rather large planks, broken in several pieces. Splinters were strewn all across the area, and several ponies were staring at the scene like Shallow and I. After analysing the scene a moment, I gasped.

The planks had fallen right on the road were Shallow and I would have been.

As soon the shock wore off, and I was trying my hardest to suppress a grin and a giggle. I had done it! I had beaten the stupid system! Before I knew it, I was bouncing up and down, whispering “yes-yes-yes!” to myself.

“Forgive me, Mr. Sound, but that’s not exactly the reaction I’d expect,” commented Shallow, raising an eyebrow at me.

I hooked my hoof around his neck and brought him close. “We avoided it, Shallow. That would’ve been you, but not today! Ha! Oh, I cannot wait to see the look on Light’s face! I bet he’s never even tried that before!” I stepping in front of Shallow. “Feel like a hug?”

“Heh, well, I just—”

His speech was interrupted when the air was squished out of his lungs by my unexpectedly powerful bearhug. I almost felt like crying in joy. It was so hard to have a victory as a Shepard. The hug couldn’t last forever, though. I heard a choked yelp come from Shallow and I quickly released him.

Doubling over, he managed a few coughs before commenting, “You certainly don’t lack for enthusiasm!” He playfully jabbed my side, making me jump back a bit. “I owe you a big thanks.”

“No problem.” I nudged him back. “But now I’m in the mood for a story. Why don’t you finish the one you started?”

An ear-to-ear grin encompassed his face and he continued where he left off. “So, there Lilac was, nervous as a squirrel, in the middle of a dark forest, when we hear the mightiest snore I’d ever been witness to! The poor thing leapt a solid six hooves into the air and squeaked as loudly as she could—I had to try my hardest to keep from falling over in laughter!” The memories came to life; Shallow had to lean on me to keep from losing his balance as he let out a hearty laugh. All I did was stand still and smile at him, giving a chuckle every time he tried to regain his composure and failed.

The purpose of my job became abundantly clear to me in that moment. This is why life is worth saving.

His whole body was shaking with a laughter that continued for nearly a minute before he was able to stand back on his own four legs. “Ho boy,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Lilac must be quite the pony.”

“That’s, heh, that’s an understatement.” He was still having a hard time talking. “My, heh, my house is right here. If you weren’t in such a rush, I’d tell you some more, heh, stories. I haven’t had a laugh like that in a good long time.”

I looked down the street to the library and back to Shallow.

“The library can wait for a little bit. I wouldn’t mind hearing another story or two.”

At those words, Shallow brightened up even more than before. “Happy to hear.” One of his front legs gave out and he stumbled before quickly regaining his balance. “Geebus, that laugh really did take a lot out of me. Come on.” When Shallow opened the front door, a distinctive scent filled my nostrils, though I couldn’t nail down what it was.

Shallow set the bouquet he’d been carrying down on top a chest of drawers just inside the door. “I’m going to the kitchen to get some water. Thirsty?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Great! The living room is to your right. Take a seat.” He paused to cough. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

Nodding, I moved to enter the living room, but a picture on the chest of drawers caught my eye. My curiosity piqued, I slowly approached it. It was Shallow and a purple-coated mare, both sniffing a flower, bright smiles adorning their faces. I couldn’t help but smile myself; it was exactly the relationship I imagined they had. A drop of sweat fell into my eye, causing me to blink several times as I rubbed the offended eye. The weather was quite comfortable today. Why was I so hot?

A crash shattered the silence.

I galloped over to the kitchen. Shallow was lying on the floor next to two broken glasses, panting like he’d just run twenty miles. “Shallow!” I yelled, rushing over to him.

“Watch out for that glass, Silk. Hate to see you cut yourself on my account.” He coughed. “Sorry about the mess, guess I don’t know my body any more.” The words came out with great difficulty: each breath was a heavy wheeze; each word was spoken with no force behind it. His face looked completely different, drained of the color I’d seen just moments before. “Feels like—” His face twisted and he screamed in pain, “—feels like my heart is jumping out of my chest!” My breath caught in my throat and for just a millisecond, I froze in terror.

“Stay there! I’ll get help. Just stay there!” I got up and galloped into the entryway. “Lilac!” I yelled up the stairs, “Lilac! Shallow needs help!” The house only replied with silence.

I became a madman. I searched in the house in a blur, rushing from room to room. My eyes carried the razor glare of insanity, my heart beat like a drum in prestissimo. Finding the house empty, I flung the front door open and desperately scanned the area for somepony who could help. Surprisingly, I found Light not twenty hooves from the door. It looked like he was searching for something himself.

“Light!” I shouted at him. His attention immediately turned to me. “Help!”

He galloped over to me, surprise and fear on his face. “Is it the H—”

“The kitchen!” I cried, leading him to where Shallow lay. “Please, we’ve got to help him.”

Light nodded and knelt down next to Shallow, putting an ear to Shallow’s stomach and touching specific spots on his body. I sat right next to Light, not knowing what he was doing. Whether he was checking life signs or trying to resuscitate Shallow—exactly what it was didn’t matter. All I wanted was for him to help. Watching Light work, I caught myself holding my breath and slowly exhaled.

“He has to be alright. I saved him.” Tears threatened to come forth, just like a river sitting behind a dam.

Shallow spoke, but it was barely a whisper. “Do I... know either of you?”

Light froze and his graze forebodingly turned to me. We exchanged glances.

No. “No no no nonono! Don’t say that! You know me, Shallow! We were just talking about Lilac, remember?” My eyes pleaded with him as well.

Shallow’s gaze was unfocused, blank. “I can’t seem to recall...”

Almost in a daze, I grabbed him and shook, slapped him in the face, set my ear against his stomach as Light had, but Shallow did not respond, and I could hear no heartbeat, no moving lungs. I turned to Light. “I saved him. We have to help,” I pleaded.

My teacher’s face had calmed, reflecting a gentle visage—one ready to say the words I feared. He put a hoof on my back. “Then help him.”

“I can’t, not like that. Somepony is waiting for him.”

“Then let her wait no longer.”

“That makes no—”

Earlier, in the park, Shallow had mentioned someone. ‘I planned to say hi to somepony.’ Is that the one who was waiting for him? But that still doesn’t make sense. Who lives that far out west any—

A spark of dread flashed across my face. The cemetery. I dashed out of the kitchen and galloped back to the entryway, where the bouquet lay. It stared back at me with that morbidly beautiful shade of purple.

Lilacs...

The dam burst. Tears streamed down my face. Light embraced me as I sobbed; I could feel his coat dampen against my face. I’d given everything today, but the world required more than that from me.

Light and I sat wrapped in a hug for several moments before he gently broke away. A wretched frown blemished my face, and through what was left of the tears I could see him nod. I stumbled back to the kitchen then reached over to Shallow, my hoof once again hovering, unsure.

Light spoke to what was left of Shallow. “It’s a terrible pain that burdens you. Let us carry that weight.”

Closing my eyes, I touched his face, again performing the duty I was first charged with only a month ago. I could feel the soul of magic dissipate through his coat, brushing up against my hoof on its way out. I could hear it whisper in the air, speaking in a humble tone before disappearing altogether.

I hate the dark.

Ch. 3: Kolnidur

“So why can’t anypony seem to remember me?”

“It’s a... side-effect of your new position, Silken. You’re a Shepard, now, like me and many before us.”

“Okay... and who do I contact to tell them I quit?”

The unicorn stopped and frowned at me. “That isn’t an option. Besides, it’s what you’re meant to do. Your cutie mark is proof of that.”

I jumped in front him, waving a forehoof. “Woah, woah, woah. I did not sign up for this. My cutie mark appeared while I was at my grandmother’s bedside, and last time I checked, helping out sick ponies has nothing to do with everyone forgetting your existence!” I yelled.

My new teacher’s face adopted a grim visage; it was dark, and teetered between anger and sadness. “Because what you’re here for isn’t exactly helping out sick ponies. It’s the ones headed toward death. A death they cannot avoid.

“A death you must Guide them to.”

I slowly closed the door to Shallow’s house behind me. My tears hadn’t even had a chance to dry, but Light had said it wouldn’t help for us to linger. He was right, of course. Almost always is.

With a sigh, I looked at my teacher. He was sitting on a bench not far away, gesturing for me to join him. I made my way over and took a seat, dropping my head into my hooves. The late afternoon sun beat into the back of my neck; even the weather did not take pity on me. I didn’t care enough to give it a second thought. All I could think about was Shallow and how I had failed him. How I’d fail everypony, eventually. Every resident of Ponyville would someday be on their deathbed, and I’d be there, doing nothing but feeling sorry for them.

“I Guided Lilac not two years ago. She was a very sweet pony, couldn’t stop talking about how worried she was for Shallow. Even on her deathbed.” His gaze went to the sky, squinting against the sun as it fought to swallow his vision. “I recognized that house the moment I saw you calling from the doorway. Her Guiding was the kind that sticks with you...”

“How do you do it, Light? How do you harden yourself to the consequences of this job?”

He put a hoof gently on my shoulder. “Never do that, Silk. Never. You must let it get to you. The ones we Guide—they deserve to have us cry for them.”

I lifted my head up and looked into Light’s eyes. On the surface, there was no indication of sorrow—no falling tears, no somber frown. But in his eyes, I could see the weight of pain. He hadn’t just spoken those words right before Shallow’s Guiding. He had meant them. It wasn’t that Light didn’t feel any sadness; he was just very good at keeping it inside.

“Do you ever try to save them? Is there really nothing we can do?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. We can’t—” His gaze wandered and he put a hoof to his chin in thought. “My teacher was always better at explaining these things than I.” Light looked back to me. “What we do, the Guiding, I never told you why it was so important. It has to do with the origin of our magic. Let me tell you how my teacher explained it...

“What does our job have to do with magic, Arrow?”

The great black stallion looked down at Light and smiled. “We return magic to where it came from, so it can be recycled and help give life to all things living in Equestria. Look around you, Light.” Arrow gestured to the field they walked through. “All of this is given life by Equestria, and it does so through magic. But it does not have an infinite supply of magic. Equestria requires a way to replenish that supply.” He paused, looking over the horizon. “That’s where ponies come in.”

“So ponies create magic, somehow?”

Nodding, he replied, “In a way. The life of a pony is an... investment of sorts. When a pony is born, Equestria gives up some of its magic to give the pony life. Throughout the pony’s life, the spark evolves and grows immensely. Upon death, that monumental soul of magic remains in the body, for Equestria cannot reclaim it on its own.” Arrow turned to Light and offered a weak smile. “We must undertake that role. Upon gaining our cutie mark, Equestria gives us the ability to separate that magic from a body, returning the magic to where it came from.”

“And that’s why—”

“—we can’t save ponies. Because Equestria needs the magic from them.” I finished Light’s statement for him. “But why can’t we save somepony every now and then? It can’t be so bad to just delay the return of magic, can it?”

“Silk, Equestria’s balance of magic is in constant flux. In order for everything to flourish, Equestria must be constantly using magic, and the amount of magic returned from a death is tremendous.” Light waved his hooves for emphasis. “If a single death was delayed, Equestria wouldn’t have the magic to keep everything alive. Entire forests could die, or, even worse, foals could be stillborn.”

I frowned and crossed my forelegs. “Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy returning it.”

Somehow, that statement seemed to put some life back into Light’s eyes. “I would expect nothing else.”

Leaning back against the bench, I closed my eyes and let the cool afternoon breeze wash over me. Silence was all I needed right now—time to think, clear my head. With my eyes closed, however, all I could see was that bouquet, those broken glasses, Shallow’s lifeless body...

“Can we leave? I don’t want to be near this place anymore,” I pleaded.

Light gave me a comforting pat on the back. “Not yet, I’m afraid. I can feel a heat coming. That’s actually how I followed you here. But Shallow isn’t the only one to leave us today. Can you feel it?” He lifted his head, breathing in deeply. “An almost intangible heat, a uniform pressure against your entire body. It’s close.”

“Whatever.” I merely shrugged. “I want nothing to do with it.” It felt so wrong to just move on like Light was. Didn’t he just say Shallow deserved somepony who cried for him? Light was just treating this like a job! “I’d rather just have the Hunt take me than have to kill another Shallow,” I mumbled.

Very suddenly, I found Light in front of me, shaking my shoulders. “Don’t say that, Silk! You have a duty! Not only to the citizens of Ponyville, but the others you’d be leaving behind. What about your family?” His eyes pleaded with me. “What about the future generations of Shepards in Ponyville? I won’t be here forever!”

I reared my head, taken aback by Light’s outburst. Is that... fear I see in him?

“We don’t age, remember? How long do Shepards usually live, anyways? It’s gotta be like hundreds of years at least.”

“Y-you don’t know?” Light’s face fell. “Of course. I haven’t told you.” He took in a deep breath before continuing. “Shepards rarely live another ten or twelve years after obtaining their cutie mark. The oldest Shepard I know of was at eighteen years past gaining his cutie mark when I last heard about him.”

I sat there, gaping, staring at Light in disbelief. It took several moments before I could get out the question, “The Hunt is that aggressive?”

“I’m afraid so.”

All I could do was sit and stare off into the distance, reflecting on the newfound boundaries of my “immortality”. It was likely I wouldn’t even live to what was for regular ponies a healthy old age. And what for? Because some cosmic lottery had picked me—doomed me—to a duty I never even wanted.

“Is there no way to fight back? There has to be some way. The Shepards have been fighting the Hunt for a long time, haven’t they?” My breath began to quicken in panic and my tone became sharper.

“And how many Shepards do you think it has killed? I—” Light’s head sunk, and he paused for a moment. “I don’t think the Hunt is something that can be fought, at least from my experience. Its exact form I cannot be sure of, but I believe it is a coalescence of consequence.” He sat back down next to me, gazing into the sky. “I think it was formed in a time before Sherpards existed, where the task we hold was not carried out, and those ‘magical souls’, as you so aptly named, were not returned to Equestria.”

As he turned to me, I looked into his eyes, searching for that fear I’d seen before—but it wasn’t there anymore. Now, I thought I saw... was it pity? He continued. “Trapped within their lifeless bodies, the souls became restless, and, over time, bitter. Resentful. When the corpse containing them finally decayed, the souls would be released and join with other hateful souls. Eventually, I believe, this thing became more than ethereal; a beast that sought only vengeance.” The silence hung in the air as I stared at Light in somber reflection.

“But why does it seek us out so aggressively?”

“We represent something those lost souls never had, something they never had a chance to know. It despises us for our immortality, and resents us for the Guiding we give.”

Something Light mentioned seemed odd to me. “And you know this... from experience?”

He crossed his forelegs and huffed. After a moment, he put a hoof to his forehead and shook his head slowly. “I suppose I do owe you the story. It was, hmm, eight years ago, now. My teacher and I were just outside a hospital, about to perform another Guiding...”

“Are you sure you want to do this one, teacher?” Light asked.

“I must,” he replied, a solemn tone heavy on his voice.

“I know how much you dislike Guiding foals. I think I can handle this one.”

Arrow turned to Light and offered a weak smile, one he’d seen so many times before. “No, Light. Tonight, the duty is mine. I cannot let my past get the best of me. I cannot let it define me.” He patted Light on the head. “You best learn to do the same.”

Light took a swipe at Arrow’s hoof and attempted to frown. He hated when Arrow talked down to him like that. Couldn’t he see I’d grown up?

Looking up at his teacher, Light noticed Arrow’s gaze had turned to the horizon, where the moon had risen just hours ago. It was anypony’s guess as to what was going through his head. Even after knowing him for two years, Light still couldn’t figure him out. For such a large, imposing stallion who seemed troubled by so few things, he spent a lot of time pondering. Was he...?

“Are you worried about the Hunt, Arrow? I know it strikes at the Guiding of foals a little more often than usual.”

“Worried? No, I am not worried about the Hunt.” It sounded like he was booming his voice a bit more than usual. Trying to build up confidence, perhaps?

Light did his best to assuage his teacher. “I’m sure not even a gross perversion like the Hunt would show its face tonight. Not for this.”

The reaction Light got was not one he expected. Arrow turned to Light, smiling, but almost crying. Light merely ogled at him in shock as tears collected in his eyes. “I did tell you that, didn’t I.” Arrow’s breath was heavy like thunder in a storm; his body reverberated with the pounding of his heart. Light placed a hoof on his shoulder hesitantly, still confused as to what was troubling his teacher so. Maybe he hadn’t truly left his past behind.

“I can do this one. Please, Arrow, let me do this for you.”

He wiped the tears from his face, which once again became austere. “You do not know what you ask. I’ll go to my Guiding now, but, Light?”

Light stood at attention, awaiting Arrow’s next words. “Yes?”

“You know this old stallion can be wrong sometimes, right?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Light replied, “Y-yes?”

Arrow nodded. “Good.”

“Arrow walked into that hospital and never came out,” Light said. “I took a look at the hospital records: no foal died that night. The Hunt found him, in the middle of a hospital crowded with nurses, doctors and patients, and murdered him before he could Guide the foal. I have no idea what the consequences were; it can be hard to determine such a thing. Maybe we got lucky and nopony else suffered, or maybe, in a hospital in some faraway city, a foal never made it out of its mother’s womb alive.”

“I’m sorry, Light. That sounds like a terrible way to go.”

He sighed. “Perhaps. But it’s something I prefer not to dither on. Besides, I think our next Guiding is here.” His eyes widened as his voice faded off. “Oh, dear.”

I followed Light’s gaze down the street to two gleaming ponies. It was hard to make out their faces, but the manes and coat colors were quite clear. One I did not recognize, but the other...

‘Oh dear’ is right.

Anypony in Ponyville would recognize the lavender coat and dark purple mane of the Element of Magic, Twilight Sparkle.

The sun continued to beat down on me from its place near the horizon. I’d worked up a sweat with my constant pacing; the suspense was killing me.

“I can’t believe you wanted to cook up a plan for this! We should just go in there and-and—”

Light looked at me questioningly, clearly unimpressed with my bravado. “And what? I told you, I could determine from the heat coming off of them we had plenty of time to plan this out. There was no need to go barging in there, we’d at best confuse them, at worst scare the living daylights out of them.”

“Well, fine!” I stammered, throwing my hooves up in defeat. “Let’s just wait for the blood-curdling screams and then—”

“Silken Sound!” Light’s voice boomed as he slammed his forehooves on the ground. “Just because you’re burdened by Shallow’s death, does not mean you can disregard the feelings of every other pony we’re to Guide! Now get a hold of yourself!”

I slinked backwards, completely caught off-guard by Light’s rebuke. Slowly, I stood back up straight, trying to retain at least some of the confidence I had before, but it was difficult under Light’s scrutinous glare.

“If our duty today is to Guide both Twilight and her companion, then that is what we shall do!” His tone was barely constrained.

I bit my lower lip, waiting for further instruction from Light, but it seemed he wanted something from me. My gaze darted back and forth as I tried to think of what that might be. I suppose I was pretty insensitive there. I sat down and stared at my hooves.

“I’m... sorry, Light. My mind’s in the right place now,” I squeaked.

“Good. It will need to be. The Hunt is known for striking at times where multiple Guidings are involved. I will concentrate on fulfilling our duty, you will need to stay alert and keep an eye on our surroundings. Now, let’s go.” He extended a hoof to me; I grasped it and he helped me up.

Our faces came close for just a moment, and I gazed into the dark wells of his pupils. There was fear in them, but also... determination. It hinted at something darker within him, something I’d not seen before. I never did ask Light about his life before becoming a Shepard. Perhaps I should.

We walked over to the library door. Light knocked on it, then stepped back to stand beside me while we waited. Moments later, the door was encompassed by a violet glow and swung open, revealing a beaming Twilight. Her companion was further back, giving attention to a strange construct in the middle of the main room. What really caught my attention, though, was an oddity in the glows that came from Twilight and her friend: they were connected.

“Hello! I’m Twilight Sparkle. I’m terribly sorry, the library is closed at the moment. Bright Fall and I have some important work to do. Could you stop by tomorrow?” Her voice was quite pleasant; she truly sounded distressed that she was forced to turn Light and I away.

Light coughed. “That’s exactly why we are here, Miss Sparkle.” He gestured to me. “I am Mr. Lost. My colleague, Mr. Sound, and I are here on behalf of Ponyville’s Public Safety Division. We will be monitoring your experiment’s progress to determine if it poses a public safety hazard.” Sticking his nose up in the air, Light simply walked in, not waiting for confirmation or even an acknowledgement from Twilight.

“P-public Safety Division? Do you really think that’s necessary?” she stammered. “I’ve quadruple checked all of my calculations and the scientific theories behind binding magic and electricity are sound. There’s no reason—”

Light cut her off. “I couldn’t help but notice you used the word theory there, Miss Sparkle.” Wandering toward the strange metal construct in the center of the room, he mumbled to himself with a rather haughty tone, “Hmm, yes.” Turning to Twilight, he continued, “Is that not a valid reason for us to be here on its own?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Theory does not just mean a guess! There is plenty of solid evidence—”

Once again, she was interrupted by Light. “Mr. Sound, if you would, please come in. We’ll need to give this device a thorough inspection before their experiment can begin, and I doubt they wish to be delayed.”

I quite suddenly realized I was still standing outside, staring at Light in the flawless execution of his act. “Yeah! I mean, uh, quite! I’ll start ‘inspecting’ right away.” Attempting to enter with the same uptight aura as Light, I half-closed my eyes and lifted my head up as I trotted inside.

Luckily, Twilight bought it. I heard her huff and close the door behind me, grumbling to herself.

A short time later, Light and I had finished our ‘inspection’. Twilight and Bright had gotten back to their work, moving in double time to avoid a delay. Light was sitting next to me, sipping on some tea he had helped himself to. I wasn’t so sure that was needed to sell the story, but he seemed pretty pleased with himself.

I walked over to Bright, who was busying herself with preparations. At the moment, she was leaning on the pedestal with her forehooves and inspecting some wiring.

“Nervous?” I asked.

She turned her head to me and grinned. “Crazy nervous. But I’m really hopeful, as well.” Keeping her eyes on Twilight, she gestured me closer. I leaned in and she whispered, “Twilight is brains like you wouldn’t believe. I give it a ninety percent chance this experiment goes off without a hitch.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “And the other ten percent?”

She squeed. “We become super-famous!”

Sighing, gave her a pat on the back. “Yeah. That would be pretty cool, huh.”

I got a jab in the shoulder for my temperament. “No grumps in here. The negative energy interferes with the delicate equipment.”

“That actual science?”

“Hey! Stop distracting my partner!” Twilight yelled over to me.

“I’d listen, bud. Twi is as crazy as she is smart.”

With a gulp and a nod, I backed away from Bright and returned to where Light was sitting.

“Why are their glows connected like that?”

“It is a dependency.” He took another sip of his tea. “Both of these ponies do not have to die today. The actions of one may save the other.”

“So there is a way—”

“Annnnnd—done!” Twilight cheered. “I was so sure we weren’t going to make it in time, even with the ‘distraction’.”

If Light heard her, he didn’t show it.

“C’mon, Twilight, we have the procedure for this memorized by now. There was no need to get worked up in the first place,” said Bright, breathing heavily. She wiped a hoof across her forehead.

“I know. I know!” Twilight turned to Light and glared. “I don’t want anything to go wrong. We’ve put too much time into this to fail now. If we don’t get any meaningful data today...” I could practically hear the excitement drain from her.

Bright put a hoof on Twilight’s shoulder and used another to lift Twilight’s chin up. “Come now, Twi. We’ve come too far to fail. You’ve put too much work into this and I’m too excited to let it go.”

“Hey, Twilight,” I called.

The librarian turned to me with an apprehensive look, but said nothing.

“You’ve got the be, like, the smartest pony in this town. I’m sure this will go fine.” I offered a smile as well.

Confusion flashed across her face for a moment before she said, “Uh, thanks, Mr. Sound.” Bright looked at me and winked. Some confidence returned to Twilight’s stance, but she still seemed wary of my encouragement, as if trying to determine if it was genuine or not. A quiet scoff came from Light and I looked back to him.

His nose was in his tea, and his eyes were closed. A curious smile was painted on his lips. “There’s too much of me in you.”

I smirked in response. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

All I got from him in return was a shrug. Setting down his tea, he stood up and coughed, getting Twilight and Bright’s attention. “Now that it seems you two are ready, perhaps you could walk my colleague and I through your procedure?”

“Oh, of course,” said Twilight. She led us over to the construct, a rather large pedestal covered by an elastic material. Atop the pedestal was an eerie-looking purple crystal. Twilight started her explanation by gesturing to it.

“This is the phase crystal, a specially-crafted medium meant to house a hybrid form of energy created from electricity and magic. It will be fed electricity through this wire,” she pointed to a wire coming up through the center of the pedestal, “and I will be adding a specific amount of magical energy at a precise time. We have some monitoring devices set up to gather information about the energy output, and the crystal itself can be analysed after we’re done. You see, the hypothesis behind—”

“Yes, yes, quite interesting, Twi—*ahem*—Miss Sparkle. But I don’t need to know the physics behind your experiment, just the procedure and safety measures,” said Light.

Annoyance fought its way back onto Twilight’s face. “Of course, Mr. Lost. How silly of me. The procedure is simple: Bright will send a current through the crystal, and I will apply magic. In case of unforeseen circumstances, there is a physical cut-off for the electricity outside of the experimental apparatus, and grounding rods that can be attached to the crystal to drain its energy.” Tossing her mane aside, she gave Light a smug grin. “Besides, once I stop feeding the crystal magic, the reaction should die off on its own. The risk calculations for a self-sustaining energy vortex have yielded probabilities of less than one-thousandth of a percent.” Her tone had gone from frustrated to straight-up cocky at the end.

Light took another long look at the equipment with a scathingly scrutinous gaze. “This seems acceptable. Do you concur, Mr. Sound?”

I scrunched up my face, feigning concentration. “I concur.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Twilight, hopping with exultation. “Let’s get started with pre-checks, then. Bright?”

“Hit me, Twilight!” Bright called, standing ready next to the pedestal.

Twilight’s face twisted in confusion. “Why would I want to do that? Seems counterproductive.”

Bright rolled her eyes. “Just get on with the checklist.”

“Current flow!”

“Check!”

“Load balancer!”

“Check!”

Twilight and Bright continued to go over a checklist while I pulled Light aside. There was something on my mind...

“This experiment is what’s going to kill one or both of them, isn’t it.” I did not speak it as a question.

Light looked to the apparatus, then back to me. “It seems likely. But let me worry about that, Silk. You need to keep an eye out for the Hunt. That’s still your top priority. I think...” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the room. “I think I can feel It coming.”

I recoiled in shock. “You can do that? Feel it, I mean?”

He looked unsure. “I... I don’t know. But this feels so familiar.” He dismissed the thought. “No, I’m just imagining it. Stay alert.” The uncertainty left his face, replaced by the iron-clad determination I’d seen before.

Twilight called over to us, “Checks are done, everything is green! Stand back, Bright is going to close the circuit!”

Light and I backed away from the experiment apparatus. His eyes were on Twilight and Bright, mine were scanning the library. I wonder if the Hunt can move through walls and ceilings. Don’t see why not.

The heat given off by the experimenters’ glows began to intensify just as Bright flipped the switch. I found myself disproportionately worried for her. I mean, there’s no way the Element of Magic could die to something like this, is there? Darkness threatened to envelop the room, but the light from Twilight and Bright pushed it back. I almost didn’t notice they turned the lights off. Atop the pedestal in the room’s nexus, the crystal began to give off a weak blue hue. It likely would have been smarter for me to stay back, but I had a hard time being nothing more than a witness. I crept closer to the middle of the room, ready to dive in and protect one of the scientists if need be.

They continued to shout status updates back and forth. I tuned them out until Twilight announced she would start adding magic to the crystal. This is it. Venturing a glance at Light, I saw he was still focused on Twilight. Colors from the crystal in the center of the room danced across his face, still the visage of focus and precision I had come to recognize. But there was still fear in there. I couldn’t tell if the sweat on his brow was from the heat or nerves.

I had no intention of dying tonight, either. Putting a hoof to my chest, I started to regulate my breathing—didn’t want my heart leaping out of my body.

A brilliant red chroma encompassed the room, inexorably bringing my gaze back to the crystal. Had I not known the anguish it was about to cause, I may have called it beautiful. It emitted and refracted innumerable shades of crimson, giving birth to a scene like I’d never seen before, and doubted I’d see again. I caught myself trying to take a step closer to it, some part of my mind desiring to touch it, to know it.

“All good things,” said Light.

Shaking my head, I snapped out of my trance and looked to my teacher. His gaze was fixed on Twilight, who, unknown to me in my stupor, had begun to yell frantic instructions to Bright.

“Cut the electricity! Open the circuit!”

“I already did, Twilight! Stop feeding it magic!”

“I stopped almost a minute ago!”

They both gasped and exchanged glances. “Throw the grounding switch, then! Drain it!” hollered Twilight.

Bright nodded and threw the switch, causing four metal rods to rise from the ground and touch the crystal. We all stared at the crystal and waited, expecting the red glow to weaken or disappear.

But it only intensified.

I let out a heavy breath. For a moment there, I thought... There would definitely be another Guiding tonight. The only question was: would it be one or two?

“Stay alert, Silk!” Light snapped at me.

I jerked back, realizing I had once again lost focus. What’s wrong with me!? This is important! I slapped myself across the face and darted forward to help.

Twilight had almost gone into a frenzy, and Bright wasn’t much better off.

“The energy is still building! It’s-It’s self-sustaining!” cried Bright.

“No, that’s not it! That doesn’t make any sense, there has to be another explanation! Think, Twilight!” She stared at the ground intensely and started smacking her head in an attempt to force it to think faster.

“Twilight, we don’t have time for that!” said Bright, shaking Twilight out of her thoughts. “The energy is building too quickly. As soon as it exceeds that crystal’s capacity, we’re going to have a massive explosion on our hooves. We need to move it, and now.”

“But why? Why didn’t the grounding work? Even if it is self-sustain—” Her words cut off and her jaw dropped. “Oh no.”

“Twilight?”

“Conductivity,” said Twilight. “When the electricity merged with my magic, it gained the conductivity properties of magic.”

Horror washed over Bright’s face as well. “And only living things conduct magic.”

Both ponies stared at the crystal, lost in thought. I tore my gaze away from the scene, doing my best to keep alert to signs of the Hunt. Perhaps Light and I would be safe tonight. Taking a glance at Light, I was shocked to see the same look of horror on his face that the scientists now shared. My first instinct was to ask if he needed help, but I instead turned to Twilight.

“Twilight, is there something I can do?”

Bright spoke up, “I’ll just teleport it out of here!”

“No! If we attempt to manipulate it with magic at all we could set it off instantly. No magic.”

“Then we need something to pick it up from a distance. Do you have any tools like that?” Her voice had switched from dread to panic.

I perked up. “I know where we could get some!” I said before taking off for the door

Twilight stopped me. “No!” Then, turning to Bright, “Do you really think we could run this thing a safe distance away in time?”

“But... with no way to move it...”

Twilight stood up straight, a heavy glare in her eyes. “I must ground it.”

Bright jumped in front of Twilight. “No way, Twilight! You’ll be fried instantly! With that kind of current, there’s no way to survive!”

Twilight’s fierce stare was now directed at Bright. “Better me than the entire town.”

“But this is just stupid! We just overlooked a stupid thing like conductivity, that can’t kill you, it can’t! Oh, Celestia, this is my fault!” She started pacing back and forth. An idea popped into her head and she faced the crystal herself. “I’ll ground it. You can’t, Twilight. You’re so much smarter, so much more important than me. I need to make up for my mistake.”

If Bright’s suggestion had shaken Twilight, I didn’t see it. But I heard a voice, a whisper so quiet I almost missed it.

“So you’ve always been there.”

I leapt in place, desperately scanning the room for signs of an invader. Twilight and Bright continued to bicker. Was it the Hunt I heard? Turning my back to the three other ponies in the room, I examined the wall behind me. Still nothing. I straightened my ears, listening for the voice to return, or perhaps a growl. The room seemed to shrink around me and I started panting. It was almost like I could feel sharp teeth on my neck and a hot, foul breath across my coat. It had to be here. It had to be the Hunt. My concentration wavered when I heard Light speak up.

“You know this old stallion can be wrong sometimes, right?”

“O-of course, you old coot,” I answered instinctively.

Light nodded. “Good.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, I heard a thundering of hooves; Light had broken into a full gallop. I spun around and was struck speechless by the sight of Light racing past the arguing ponies. Twilight and Bright both turned to him as he blew by them. Twilight yelled out his name, but he was determined.

Just like he had always been.

He skidded to a stop right in front of the crystal, only pausing to glance back at me before placing his hoof on it.

There was no great flash of light, no rush of sound, no thundering blast; the crystal simply went out, and Light fell. For a split second, no one reacted, the room merely a still frame in time. The silence was deafening.

But it shattered when my hooves hit the floor in a gallop. In a second, I was standing over Light. I kneeled down next to him, holding his head up, feeling frantically for a breath or heartbeat. There was air coming from his mouth, but it was no stronger than a feeble breeze.

“Light!” I heard Twilight call out. She was instantly beside me, looking at him with compassion and tears in her eyes. “Oh, Light, why did you do that?”

“C’mon you crazy stallion, wake up.” I tapped his cheek and looked desperately into his eyes.

And, if by some impossible act of Celestia, they opened, if only a little.

“Hey, Twilight,” he croaked. I could hardly understand him, there was so little force behind his words.

“Doctor Lost.” She wiped a tear away. “You know you should really be the one looking down at me. You’ve gotten our roles all messed up.”

Doctor Lost? I looked back and forth between Light and Twilight. And when did she learn his first name?

“Guess I just got it wrong today.” He turned to me. “And who might you be, kind stallion?”

It was all I could do to muster a pathetic smile through my tears. “No One.” I stroked his mane softly. “But I can tell there’s a terrible pain that burdens you. Let me carry that weight.”

And he spoke sweet words, the sweetest words I had ever heard.

“Sounds... wonderful.”

I hugged his body to me, now crying freely. The tears tickled my coat as they flowed down my face. I’d never carried another pony’s weight before, and Light’s was heavier than a mountain. That terrible mist started escaping his body, caressing me with it’s tranquil touch. The soul sought to soothe me with it’s compassionate whispers as it floated past my ears; I only cried harder. In the end, I could not protect him. No one could protect him from himself.

The Hunt had claimed another.