The town of Ponyville was known far and wide for its strangely huge number of visitors and citizens, with not a day passing by where the paved streets weren't filled with hundreds of ponies, their voices and hoofsteps raising such a loud noise that one may wonder how anypony there got any rest. The perpetual activity was rather symbolic of the small town; they were known for it, and many simply visited to escape any pervading feelings of loneliness they had.
With such large crowds always present, anypony wanting to hide could easily walk unnoticed amidst them. They all kept themselves to themselves, and no questions were asked of anypony suspicious trotting past. It may have been a home for law-abiding ponies, but it was a haven for criminals. It was, as many believed, rather difficult to go about your life without running into some vile fugitive along the way, but the long-time citizens of Ponyville had learned how to defend themselves in anticipation of such an event.
It was on one of these typical busy days that a grey mare sat unnoticed and seemingly unimportant at the edge of the steady flow of ponies entering and leaving the town, leaning against a wall covered in meaningless graffiti. Her yellow eyes, cast in shadow by the torn and ripped hood covering her head, scanned the crowd tirelessly, moving back and forth as she flicked her tail annoyedly. Giving a tired grunt, she rose to her hooves, having apparently decided that whatever she was waiting for was not worth it. Taking great care not to draw any attention to herself, she slid into the middle of the crowd of ponies, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
From time to time, groups of regal-looking mares and stallions from the royal guard trotted past, the glinting metal spears and swords they carried bobbing as they marched in time and their shiny golden armour reflecting the warm sunlight. With stern looks in their eyes, they too were watching the crowds, though they seemed to be in much greater of a hurry than the grey mare. The royal guard was known for its high interest in security and safety, but on few occasions did they actively patrol the cities and towns of Equestria. This drew attention to them in the way of sceptical glances from the ponies on the streets, but nopony dared question them. They knew what they were doing.
One lone earth pony mare caught their attention in particular. Her brown fur was kept immaculately clean, and her dark mane, tied up in a loose ponytail, was almost the colour of chocolate. She had been walking along the streets by herself in an oddly slow and careful manner, as if she were calculating each step she took in her head before she moved. She did not have a smile upon her face, nor did her eyes betray any glint of happiness; in fact, she didnt seem to show any emotions at all. Turning and looking the two pegasus guards in the eyes as they cut through the crowd to approach her, she stopped in her tracks.
"Good day, sirs. What can I help you with?" Her voice, clear as her movements, was barely audible over the cacaphony of noise from those surrounding her. Her expression was, rather surprisingly, almost bored, quite unfitting for the situation she had found herself in.
The guards looked at each other with queer expressions, creating a long moment of silence before the taller stallion began to speak. "Ah, yes. Our apologies for disturbing you. We were wondering - have you noticed any strange behaviour around here lately?" He seemed unsure about his words, stuttering and tripping over each letter.
"Strange? How do you mean?" A spark of concern appeared in her orange eyes, though it faded quickly. "Are we in any danger?"
"No, no! Nopony is in any danger if we have anything to do with it!" the shorter stallion cut in as his companion was about to speak, waving a hoof around as if to dismiss the mare's apprehension. He gave a sheepish smile as the tall stallion - his mentor, it appeared - turned and glared at him. Bowing his head in apology, his wings twitched as he attempted to avoid eye contact.
"Ah... well, as much as I hate to say it, it would appear that we are all in danger." the tall stallion countered, his ears pressed flat against his metallic helmet. "Lately, there has been a string of... incidents, for lack of a better term, occurring in and around this very town. Evidence at the scene of each has pointed towards a single culprit, but we cannot identify them. We have only two things to go on; that being that the murderer, we believe, is some kind of bat pony, and that they are female." He seemed rather reluctant to speak. "The most recent murder was reported earlier this morning in the farthest northern part of Ponyville. A young unicorn filly was found dead in her home by her elder sister after she investigated her not appearing for breakfast. A horrible sight, I've been told. Blood everywhere, and clear signs of a struggle." He shivered, though tried to hide his disgust for the sake of the others. "Her name was Vanilla Candy, I believe. Does that name mean anything to you?"
The mare hesitantly shook her head. Though she didn't dare outwardly betray any emotions, she was rather relieved that she had no connections to the filly. The last thing she needed was news of a dead friend or family member to further ruin her day. "The name is not familiar to me. I am not from around here, you see."
The two guards seemed surprised. Giving her an apologetic smile, the short guard began to speak again. "Oh, you're not a Ponyville citizen? We're so sorry, we just assumed that you were acquantined with this place. You didn't strike us as somepony from Canterlot or Manehatten, and you're definitely not from Cloudsdale, so our first guess was..." He trailed off, turning to his companion for help.
"No, it's alright. My name's Nutmeg, and I'm from Vanhoover, you see. I've travelled a long way to get here, and news of this... murderer... didn't reach us so far away." Finally breaking her straight face, she gave a small smile.
"Well, it's only natural that you have no information to give us, then. We're sorry for disturbing you."
"No, no, don't be! It's definitely for the best that I'm aware of anything that may put me in danger here, so thanks for stopping me." Turning tail, she began to walk away, rejoining the crowd and following the path that she had been carefully taking before. "Good day to you two!" she called out over the loud noise to the two guards, who bowed to her simultaneously, the warm sunlight catching the steel weapons tied to their backs, before trotting off to talk to somepony else. Though outwardly she appeared as calm as ever, the mare's mind was in turmoil, as she was both fearing for her own life and despising the villainous mare who decided to take an innocent filly's life among many others at the same time. She didn't like to generalise, but she had never heard of a good bat pony. Perhaps they were all just made to be evil. Ah, no, that's not right. Disappointed in herself, Nutmeg shook the morbid thoughts from her mind, allowing them to be replaced by the overwhelming excitement she had for her new life in Ponyville. She smiled as she walked. Perhaps her life had taken a turn for the better.
The positive thoughts, however, were ripped cruelly from her mind in an instant as a piercing scream tore through the air. The noise of the crowd died immediately, replaced only by a rather horrified silence; and in that one single moment, time seemed to stand still as the sky overhead darkened to a near pitch black, blocking out all sunlight and leaving the town in a state not too dissimilar to midnight. From the streets and alleyways leading into the main road, huge tendril-like plumes of heavy black smoke emerged, coiling and writhing around each other like snakes, and a choking, suffocating scent of what could only be described as death itself filled the air. Nutmeg watched in silent horror as the black smoke began to swirl around her hooves, submerging them in complete blackness. It was covering the paved ground like some viscous fluid or another, seemingly attracted to the ponies like a predator is to its prey. Keeping as still as she could, she noticed in her peripheral vision that some had tried to flee, while the others were all clearly paralysed by their growing fear. Watching as the escaping ponies simply ran deeper into the darkness, she stayed where she was, not daring to risk the wrath of whatever evil being this was.
It wasn't long before she began to fearfully question her decision. As the black smoke rose higher and higher, she began to feel a burning pressure deep within her; not at all like physical pain, but more like her mind was being torn apart, her conscience ripped to shreds. She gave a pathetic whimper. God, she had come to this friendly-seeming place to escape her horrible old life, but she'd give anything to be back where she came from now, no matter how bad it may have been. She couldn't see five inches in front of her face, and no matter how loud she screamed and shouted, her words were all swallowed up by the shadows. Horrible, unbroken silence followed - one that seemed to lay an almost physical pressure on the frightened mare. Aside from the sound of her heart beating rapidly echoing in her ears, she could hear nothing. It wasn't a calm silence. There were no sounds to be heard because nobody was there to make any. She was alone, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She braced herself as her little remaining strength finally failed her and she fell heavily to the ground.
Nutmeg couldn't see a thing. Her vision had been swallowed by a black void, and no matter how much she strained her eyes, she couldn't make out anything in the darkness. Her body felt oddly heavy. She couldn't move at all - or, perhaps, she was simply too tired to try. Her thoughts were fuzzy and unclear, and the pounding headache she had was enough to put anybody off thinking. Despite the lack of control, she felt strangely conscious; her thoughts, while vague, were definitely her own. That was oddly reassuring. She felt a fleeting glimpse of relief flare up within her, but nonetheless, it was gone as soon as it had appeared.
Disoriented and confused, she hung her head low, feeling her resolve fleeing her weak body. To be stripped of your ability to move but have your mentality remain intact was surely a fate worse than death. She let out a ragged breath. If this kept up any longer, she would go insane, and there was no way she could every let that happen. Drawing up every last shred of energy from deep inside herself, she managed to let out a strangled cry for help, calling despairingly into the black nothingness.
She certainly wasn't expecting a response. Against all odds, though, she got one, in the form of a surprised, breathy gasp from an unseen source. It wasn't in any general direction; it echoed and pulsated from all around her. She started, her breath hitching in her throat, and whimpered nervously. She wasn't alone, for better or for worse, and someone, somewhere could hear her feeble cries for help. Perhaps, with enough luck, they would heed them and come to her aid. She doubted that she would be able to get out from wherever she was without somepony's help. She couldn't think straight, let alone walk, and if the nagging feelings of dread and despair she harboured within her were anything to go by, she wasn't in the greatest of mental states, either. Gritting her teeth, she shivered slightly, only now taking notice of the temperature. Wherever she was, it was fucking cold, and she never did have the best tolerance for frigidity. She was a mare who appreciated the warmth, and without it, she got very cranky, very quickly.
Driven by a newfound desire to find a source of heat, she slowly got up, stumbling slightly on her weak, unsteady legs. She stood there for a moment, gathering whatever remained of her strength. Her ear twitched in annoyance. She believed herself to be strong in both mind and body, so this overwhelming feeling of helplessness was a rather frightening one.
Tentatively, she took a single step forward. The ground beneath her, though no different in its appearance - or the lack thereof - from anything above the horizon, was solid and did not give way under her stride. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, then continued to shamble forwards in a curving, twisting line, not even knowing to where she was travelling so determinedly. Putting one hoof in front of the other seemed to be a trivial task at first, but as the minutes passed by, it became an effort that required all of her doggedness to undertake. It felt as if all natural instinct had been cleared out from her already tormented mind; so much that, despite being the grown mare she was, she had nearly totally forgotten how to walk properly. With pitifully small steps, she trudged along, stumbling every so often on some small unseen obstacle laying in her path. Her breaths quickened. The feeling was akin to that of wearing a blindfold - she had her eyes wide open, but could see nothing. It felt unnatural and wrong. She became increasingly aware of the noises she herself was making - the light breaths, the quiet hoofsteps, the pulsating heartbeat... it was almost as if her sudden lack of sight served to heighten her sense of hearing. To say the least, it was overwhelming.
Light. Blinding light. Instinctively, she closed her eyes tight, pained by the horribly bright glow that had surrounded her all of a sudden and replaced the undying black void. It was a welcome change, despite the stinging pain she felt in her eyes, and so was the sudden warmth that accompanied it. A few seconds passed, and she believed that she had become somewhat accustomed to it. Finally daring to take a look around her, she tentatively opened her eyes.
Another pair of eyes stared unblinking into her own; they were fluorescent yellow, with thin, cat-like slits for pupils that narrowed as she looked into them. The long eyelashes showed that it was a mare looking back at her, and the eyes' positions coupled with a heavy weight on her stomach showed that said mare was crouched on top of her. Of course, she immediately thought the worst, rolling onto her side from the lying position she was in and throwing the strange pony to the ground.
"Who the hell are you?" she spat defensively, not daring to take her eyes off the mare for a second. She got no response save for a wide, toothy grin from the mare, who had pushed herself up into a relaxed seated position from where she had been tossed to the floor. Nutmeg allowed her gaze to wander from the pony's face, taking in her whole body. She was dark grey, and her coat was spotted with suspicious dark stains that had dried onto and matted together the short, otherwise velvety fur. Her mane, which hung loosely over her eyes in no particular style, was composed of two shades of blue, one light, one dark. Two shining golden hoops hung from her right ear, obviously kept immaculately clean - and as she moved, they hit lightly against each other and produced a rather pleasant metallic sound. The most striking feature about her was undoubtedly the wings folded to her sides, a darker grey than her coat and somewhat similar to those of a bat. Two gleaming white fangs protruded from her mouth, twisted into a smirk, further fitting the theme of a bat.
Nutmeg, now slightly more at ease having gotten over her initial shock, chose to rephrase her question to suit what she had just seen. She sent the creature a threatening glare.
"What the hell are you?"
This brought on a dry chuckle from the strange pony. An all-too-familar one, at that - it matched the one she had heard while still in the dark void perfectly, and there was no doubt that it was she who had given it earlier. Regardless of her apparent amusement, she still kept silent, offering the earth mare no answers at all. Frustration ran through her body, replacing any remaining feelings of fear or shock she had within her. She gave the best growl she could muster,l given her rather airy voice, and bared her flat, herbivorous teeth. Her intimidation attempts, though rather unimpressive given her overly passive nature, seemed to have some effect on the mare, who drew back a little and pressed her fluffy ears flat against her head.
With an audible sigh, she opened her mouth to speak. "You're kinda rude. You know that, right?" Her voice matched her perfectly - dry and husky, yet still somehow feminine. "Heartlessly tossing your humble saviour to the ground and then threatening her is very much a social faux pas." She smirked, seemingly pleased with herself. Nutmeg's eyes narrowed slightly.
"My so-called saviour was sitting on top of my unconscious body, staring at my face."
"I was concerned for your safety."
"You were smiling!"
"Eh... you look funny when you sleep." She raised her shoulders in a careless shrug, breaking the eye contact Nutmeg had forgotten she was even making with her. "Oh, and by the way - I'm a thestral. Though I suppose you've guessed that already, right?"
A little ashamed to admit otherwise, Nutmeg avoided the mare's question and asked one of her own. "What the hell is a thestral?"
"You've a rather dirty mouth, haven't you, love?" she observed. Noticing the piercing glare Nutmeg sent her, she chuckled and resumed speaking. "Thestrals are just another type of equestrian creature. I'm no different from you than a pegasus is from a unicorn." She gestured to Nutmeg with one hoof, grinning like a madmare. "Of course, many choose to see us as demons from hell, but that's not right at all. No, we're just like all the others." A fleeting glimpse of what appeared to be sadness flagged in her eyes. "Well... when I say 'we', I mean... uh... I don't know how many of us are left out there, to be honest." She dropped her smile, replacing it with a troubled frown. Nutmeg almost felt sorry for her, but caught herself quickly. She didn't know this mare. She couldn't waste her feelings on her.
"We used to flourish, but when Princess Luna gave into the darkness and became Nightmare Moon, we all but perished. All tribes of ponies were badly affected, of course, but the sudden change in the levels of light and dark magic in Equestria hit us the worst. We're very sensitive to that stuff." Nutmeg shivered. Everyone knew the story of Nightmare Moon, and she was no exception - the finer details of the tale never really interested her, however, and she had no idea about the 'light and dark magic' thing. "So due to our being unaccustomed to our new conditions, many of us were caught off guard by some magic-related affliction or another, and nobody really knew how to cure the sick ponies. Each day, our population grew a little smaller, and we were shunned by the others for our connections to the night and, therefore, Nightmare Moon."
She shifted nervously where she was sitting. "You were alive through all of this, then? You seem to speak about it like you were there."
"Of course not! I don't look that old, do I?" She feigned shock, her mouth hanging wide open. "It's a story I was told as a filly, and I know better than to dismiss it as a lie. Of course, the other pony tribes wouldn't know. They knew as little about us back then as they do today."
Nutmeg nodded. Swiveling her head around, she managed to get a relatively good view of her location from her seated position on the hardwood ground. She was indoors - the walls of whatever room she was in were covered in plain black wallpaper, and the floor was made up of polished planks of some dark wood. The ceiling, like the wall, was black, and from it, one measly lightbulb hung, swinging gently in the light breeze that blew from an open window to her left. Through the window, she could see nothing. It was too dark. She knew better than to assume it was nighttime, though, given her recent experiences.
She turned back to the thestral, who had been watching her rather interestedly with half-lidded eyes, idly tapping the ground with one hoof. Noticing that Nutmeg had turned her attention back to her, she sat up straight and asked a question. "Do you want to know where you are, then?" To this the earth pony nodded quickly, her ears perking up.
"You were never unconscious, as you may have guessed by your odd feelings while out. Simply in a state of... unawareness, for lack of a better term. I have no way of knowing what you were seeing while you were out - ponies report seeing vivid hallucinations to dark nothingness and everything in between. Whatever you saw, though, just know it wasn't real - a mere side effect of the malevolent darkness. You were in Ponyville when you became unaware, and it was a nonstop journey from there to here."
"Where is 'here', then? Where am I now?"
"It's not on the maps, I'm afraid. It doesn't have a name."
"Wait, what? Why not? We are in Equestria, right?"
"Yeah, we're in Equestria. A few weeks' walk from Ponyville taking the fastest route, though it's reduced to a few days if you fly like I do. So... yeah, we're pretty far from anywhere you would know."
"Are we near Vanhoover?" she asked, wondering if she was anywhere near her hometown. The place wasn't a utopia, but it seemed far friendlier than wherever she was now.
"No. In fact, we're on the opposite side of the continent, so you may as well drop any ideas of returning home." She seemed to have read Nutmeg's thoughts. "Not that there'd be much to return to, anyway."
"Not much to return to, huh? Is that something to do with the weird dark stuff?"
"It's everything to do with the 'weird dark stuff', as you so elegantly put it. It's everywhere, all over Equestria. It's on the ground with the earth ponies and unicorns, and up in the air with the pegasi and griffins. It's in the caves with the dragons and thestrals. It's in the badlands with the changelings. There's nowhere to run, so we might as well stay put for now." She spoke with an edge of solemnity to her dry voice. Despite herself, Nutmeg laughed. The apocalypse had come. She was done for, and so was the crazy mare in front of her. Doomed. Perhaps she was finally losing it. Not like it mattered now, anyway.
"I call it 'The Darkness', and that's just what it is. It's like shadows - shadows that move around freely. Shadows that have free will, and use said free will to hunt us down and end us. Shadows that are sentient." She pointed a hoof towards the window, gesturing at the dark world outside. "They've covered everything, but thy can't stay in one place for long." Surprisingly, the seemingly perpetual darkness had lifted slightly, and the surroundings were visible, albeit only a little. She didn't recognise her surroundings.
"What does it do when it... gets you?" She swallowed nervously.
"You've already found out for yourself, haven't you?" She smirked, looking examining her hoof idly. "It takes away your awareness of it so that you can't fight back. You can't resist when you don't know you're in danger. Then, as each minute passes, it eats away at you, in both mind and body. You become all but skeletal in form, and you totally lose your mind. It toys with you, like a cat does a mouse. And then, when you're at your weakest, it finally strikes. Snaps your frail little neck and devours your lifeless body." A grim smile was frozen on her face, but fear had flooded her vivid yellow eyes. She was just as afraid as Nutmeg was.
"We don't know what it wants, or even if it wants anything at all. It very well might be barely sentient enough to harbour one simple idea, one deadly instinct - to hunt. It kills most. Others... it turns." She shuddered visibly. "Those who are stronger, either mentally or physically, can resist the normally overwhelming levels of dark magic. Rather than being killed, these unlucky creatures become slaves to the Darkness. They do its every will unquestioningly. They, with their superior intelligence but lack of conscience and morality, are perhaps more dangerous than the Darkness itself. After all, in the wrong hooves, intelligence is potentially the most potent weapon. We call them negas, short for negatives. Anti-ponies."
"Then what happened to me?"
"I thought you would never ask. I saved you before you could die. I pulled you from its grasp."
"I -- I see. Well. Thank you, miss..."
"Deadly Nightshade. I know, I know, it's very, uh... typical for a pony of the night." She grinned sheepishly.
"I'll call you Shade."
"Go ahead. And you?"
"I'm Nutmeg. It's nice to meet you, Shade."
"It's nice to meet you too, Nutmeg." She smiled gently, seeming perfectly at ease with the situation at hoof. "I'm just sorry we couldn't have met under more favourable circumstances."
"That's fine! I really appreciate your company. If we're as completely and utterly doomed as you implied we are, it'd be nice to have some company as I meet my maker." She chuckled, and Shade did likewise. Had she just made a friend? That was... surprising, to say the least. She wasn't one to make friends easily, especially with some bonkers thestral mare she just met earlier that day. But there she was. Maybe the Darkness was getting to her.
"I have somewhere nice we can go. Somewhere safe."
The sound of Shade's voice dragged her out of her silent reverie. She cast a questioning glance towards the mare, who smiled widely at her in return.
"Somewhere nice, you say? Really? You implied everything had gone to the dogs."
"Yeah, that may have been an overreaction. I mean, we're in constant danger, but..." She trailed off, sending Nutmeg an unsure glance.
An uneasy silence passed over them. It was broken only a few seconds later when Nightshade got to her hooves, trotting up to Nutmeg. Her hoofsteps were loud, and echoed around the barely furnished room. "So, you comin' with me or what?"
"I guess so. I don't really have a choice, though, do I?"
"No, you don't. Come on, let's get going! We have to make it by nightfall. Everything gets worse by tenfold then, so you don't wanna be caught out in the open."
"Alright. Wait for me, then." she sighed.
Nightshade walked confidently towards the door. Leaning against the wall, she looked back at Nutmeg, who had stood up but otherwise remained exactly where she was. Beckoning her with one hoof, Nightshade opened the door and held it open for her friend. Smiling graciously, Nutmeg walked slowly out of the door into the open, waiting for the thestral to exit. A few moments later, she emerged. Wordlessly, she began to follow a tortuous pathway of dirt that was all but obscured by the darkness. Not wanting to be left behind, she followed suit.
Nutmeg observed the odd thestral as she walked, both mares keeping silent. She didn't say a word - there was nothing to be said, though she desperately wanted something to lighten the mood. Nightshade dragged her hooves slightly as she walked, she noticed, and she kept her head low. Perhaps she was tired. That wouldn't be surprising. With a spring in her step, Nutmeg picked up her pace to match that of Nightshade, before slowing down so that she could walk beside her. She gave the grey mare a nervous smile.
Nightshade smiled back, somewhat wearily. "It's pretty far from here. We've got a few hours of walking left at the very least, so if you want to ask me any questions, now's the time."
"Alright then. Where is it exactly we're going?"
"A tavern. I've gone there many times before. Lovely place."
"Uh... why are we going there?" she asked, an edge of nervousness to her shaky voice.
"It's a relatively safe place to spend the next few days. Good food, drinks, a place to sleep, and I'm friends with the owners and a few of the workers. Can't ask for much else nowadays." She smiled, seeming as if she was reminiscing about something. She seemed quite fond of it from the way she spoke.
"What time is it?"
"About..." She tutted, deep in thought. "... three in the afternoon, give or take. It's hard to tell." She looked up at the sky. "The sun is nowhere to be seen, so there's no way of knowing for sure. I'm just guessing given the amount of time I think had passed since I last checked yesterday." She gave a quiet sigh. "I'm a creature of the night through and through, but I won't lie, I miss the daytime just as much as everyone else."
Nutmeg nodded solemnly. She hadn't the heart to ask any more of the mare beside her, so she opted to remain silent until they reached their destination. As they walked, she began to notice just how quiet it was. There was none of the typical birdsong that marked the daytime, and there were no young foals giggling happily as they played childish games in the lush grass. It wasn't at all a peaceful silence. It was one that still haunted you even after it had been broken, one that caused a gradually increasing ringing in your ears to make itself known. It had to stop. She looked to her side. Given the uneasy expression on Nightshade's face, Nutmeg guessed that she was thinking the same thing, and coughed slightly to clear her throat.
"So, uh... why do you trust me so easily?"
Nightshade appeared to falter slightly in her steps, but soon for back into the constant rhythm of walking.
"Well... I don't know, really. You seem like a nice mare, and... you didn't try to hurt me. Not much, anyway." She dropped her worried frown and flashed Nutmeg a smirk. "My back still aches."
"Hey -- I was shocked! Don't try to pin this on me, Shade!" she scoffed. Despite desperately trying to seem angry, the amusement she was hiding gave itself away in her eyes. Soon after, she began to smile, laughter welling up inside her. Grinning, she gave the thestral a teasing shove with one hoof.
"You got any siblings, Nutmeg?" There she goes again, asking questions out of the blue.
"Nope. You?"
"Two. A younger brother and a younger sister."
"Must have been hell growing up, then. Were you three close?"
"Can't say we were. My brother and I argued constantly, and my sister was such an insufferable little brat. It's probably because of them that I'm so stubborn. Honestly, I could barely stand either one. They were my younger siblings, though, so it was my duty to look after them." She chuckled. "My brother's name is Poison Joke, and my sister's is Blue Moon."
Nutmeg smiled. She never had to live with anyone but her parents, so she wasn't used to the constant arguments that siblings usually share. She was eternally thankful for that.
"Is thestral culture much different from our culture? You don't live among earth ponies, unicorns or pegasi, so I wouldn't know."
"Mm. We have some things in common, but nothing much. It's not that surprising - we've not had much contact with other tribes throughout time. Uh, let's see... we get our cutie marks around the same age as you do, for one. Some thestrals become teenagers without having gotten their cutie marks, but such an event is exceedingly rare." She gestured to her own cutie mark, which Nutmeg hadn't gotten a good look at. It depicted a lavender potion with two purple stars behind it. It wasn't much of a mystery what she did for a living. "I got mine when I was... hm, probably five or six years old, give or take. I mix potions." She grinned happily. "I adore doing it. When did you get yours, then?"
Nutmeg laughed quietly. "Probably about the same time as you. I grow herbs and spices," she explained. "Of course, I specialise in nutmeg and mace. I put them into spicy soups and other foods like that, then I sell it."
"Sweet. Oh - and we have thestrals who handle the weather. You have pegasi for that, right?" Nutmeg nodded. "We can't use magic, of course, so we don't have the power to create the complicated structures and machines that you can make. Most of us don't even know what a train is," she admitted, shrugging as she walked. "We have our own culture, vastly different from yours. I've lived among non-thestrals for a few years now, though, so I'm used to their culture for the most part."
Nightshade hummed thoughtfully, looking around with her ears held up high. Their surroundings, for the most part, were barren and bleak. "You know about the murders that have happened, right?" Nutmeg nodded, a sceptical frown quickly replacing her smile. The odd question had piqued her interest, even though she thought to herself that she would have preferred to keep their conversation on a positive note.
"A dozen or so innocent ponies were killed. No connections between the victims were identified, but there was one killer, any only once had she been seen. The murderer was a female, a thestral like you, and she also had..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. It had only just dawned on her. Oh, God, how could she have been so blind?
"Two golden rings in her right ear." Nightshade finished solemnly, not daring to make eye contact with the horrified mare beside her. In the little light there was, the polished gold piercings in her ear shined. The quiet jangling sound they made and they hit against each other sent waves of nausea through her. She stopped in her tracks, a look of horror plastered on her face. For the next few moments, neither mare spoke. Nutmeg was too shocked to speak a word, and Nightshade was waiting in uneasy silence for the inevitable outburst of anger that awaited her from the earth pony. It wasn't long before she delivered.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Those were innocent ponies, Nightshade!"
"Innocent, perhaps - but dangerous nonetheless. I'm not an evil mare, I promise you." She sounded so sure of herself, the insufferable monster. How laughable.
"Well, if you're not evil, then you're insane! You killed a filly; a poor, defenceless young filly. There is no way she was dangerous in the slightest. You're out of your damned mind!" she growled at Nightshade with seething rage in her voice. She didn't seem all that affected; all Nutmeg's rage seemed to do was anger her.
"Listen here, Nutmeg. I've saved countless lives by doing what I did. Remember what I told you about the Darkness earlier? It had them in its sights! If I hadn't acted and stopped it, they would have become monsters."
"How can you tell if the Darkness wants to possess them, then? If you're so clever, explain it." She had calmed down a little, much to Nightshade's relief, but her eyes were still narrowed and her ears were backwards and flat, parallel to the ground.
"If you saw it, you'd know. They... change. In colour, in form, in behaviour. Someone who had cherry red fur before being possessed could change to dark blood red, and they could develop strange abnormalities on their body - horns, fangs or extra limbs, things that most ponies don't have. They become more lonesome, choosing to stay by themselves and not seek company from others. They lose whatever positive personality traits they once had, and gain more negative ones. They threaten and lash out at those undeserving of it. Unchecked, they change completely - it swallows them in mind and body, and they kill." She paced back and forth, clearly upset. "Once the process has started, there's... no way of doing it. I can't reverse the damage that's been done; not even the most powerful sorcerer could. So, instead of letting them change and become a great threat to innocent ponies, I... take care of the threat." She stopped walking and looked into Nutmeg's eyes. They were tinged a pale red at the edges. It was clear she was fighting back tears, not least because of the wavers in her normally steady voice.
Nutmeg's expression softened. Cautiously, she placed a hoof on Nightshade's shoulder, smiling gently down at the mare. "I believe you, Shade. I'm... sorry. But... did you have to kill them? Couldn't you just banish them to the badlands or something? That took care of the changelings, for the most part at least." She stuttered as she spoke. Nightshade smiled sadly, shaking her head.
"I'm afraid not. If it were possible to avoid it, I would have, but..." She trailed off, but regained the strength to speak after a few seconds of silence. "No, they'd return somehow. They're attracted to us - we are their prey. It's a temporary solution, yes, but it's infinitely better if I get them before they turn. They're weakest that way, because when they turn, power comes surging back into them tenfold, and they're capable of putting up much more of a fight. Of course, they pose no real threat to me either way, but if they grouped up to hunt me, I'd be in real danger." She began to walk forward again. "Come on. If we wait around here any longer, we won't make it by nightfall."
She cast a glance back to the earth pony who, though a little hesitantly, started to trail behind her. She said nothing, which Nightshade didn't find that strange. The poor mare had been through a lot; she needed as much time as possible to think everything over. She focused on the horizon in front of her, though partially obscured by shadows, and tried to focus on whatever positive thoughts she could, few as they were. The fatigue was beginning to get to her, and her legs felt heavy, but she tried her best she could to not think about it and just keep putting one hoof in front of the other.
The two mares stayed that way for hours, the silence shared between them scarcely broken. Nutmeg had directed a few questions regarding their destination at Nightshade, but otherwise, the two made no sound. As the sky was darkening into a near pitch black, they arrived in front of a tall, somewhat weathered-looking building with an illegible sign above the doorway. The sound of dozens of loud voices emerged from the tavern, laughing and shouting, accented by a pulsating tattoo of booming music. The windows, though dirty and cloudy, showed the many ponies inside, sitting at tables playing cards and drinking. Nutmeg was somewhat hesitant to enter, not being used to such a cacophonous crowd. She had been in Ponyville for half a day, and its steady stream of loud voices and hoofsteps had almost driven her mad on several occasions. However, reluctant as she was, she followed Nightshade as the mare pushed open the heavy door and tried inside.
Within the building, the noise was, to her relief, not as loud as she had expected. She would still have to raise her voice a little if she wanted to be heard, but it wasn't deafening. Nightshade walked over to a vacant table and took a seat, smiling expectantly at her. Not wanting to be left by herself, Nutmeg took the seat opposite her, placing her front hooves on the wooden table and tucking her tail neatly around her body. There were a few large tankards of some type of alcoholic beverage beside her, detectable by their heavy scent, and a dim light shine from the lone lightbulb above her head. The place had a nice atmosphere to it, surprisingly. Nightshade shot her a grin.
"You like it?" Nutmeg nodded, smiling. "Thought so. Anyway, if you're not too tired, we should have a little discussion now. So it's the apocalypse, and that's great and all, but I was hoping you'd allow me to introduce a few friends of mine into this little group of ours. The more the merrier, right?" She paused to wave over one of the waiters, a unicorn mare with short black fur and a tricolour mane of red, orange and pink. It was clear she was well liked from the way the customers were treating her, laughing and joking like she was an old friend. As she approved their table, Nightshade smiled warmly at her. The waiter grinned.
"Hey Cherry! Long time no see, huh? This here's Nutmeg. Say hi, Nutmeg!" Flustered, Nutmeg gave the waiter a polite smile. The pegasus returned it gladly. "Nutmeg, this is Cherry Bomb, but you can call her Cherry. We've known each other a long time."
"Pleased to meet ya!" The dusky pegasus leaned into Nutmeg, grinning madly all the while. She was uncannily like Nightshade, both in the childish way she acted and the strange way she smiled. It unnerved her a little. "So, how are you two dealing with the end of ponykind?" Unlike Nightshade, however, her voice was smooth and velvety. She sounded a lot older than she acted, that was for sure.
"Better than I expected. How about you?" Nightshade laughed, and Nutmeg say in silence, feeling somewhat left out by the two old friends. The thestral glanced at the earth pony, an amused look in her yellow eyes. "Jealous? Don't worry, there's absolutely nothing worth envying in either of us. We're both terrible ponies." She grinned at Cherry, a sly smile on her face. "You're probably ten times a better pony than both of us combined."
Bewildered, Nutmeg's eyes widened. "No way! Shade, you saved my life! I owe everything to you. I'd be dead if you hadn't saved me - or, well, worse." Nightshade gave a shrug as if to brush off the earth pony's claims, but the blush on her cheeks made itself known by the way of a slight red tint under her fur. The pegasus, whose eyes had been constantly darting back and forth from one pony to the other, interrupted.
"Woah, woah, hold on just a second! You saved this filly's life? That's so..." She grunted irritatedly, at a loss for words. "... Unlike you. Yeah, you would never put yourself in danger to save somepony else! That's not the Nightshade I know." Nightshade shot Cherry a warning glare, doing her best to ignore Nutmeg as she stifled a giggle. Sheepishly, she reached out a hoof and patted the thestral on the shoulder. "Oh, lighten up, Shady. You know I'm just messing with you. Anyways, what's the story behind this, huh?"
Nightshade sighed, recoiling a little at the pegasus' touch. "Well, she had been caught unawares by the Darkness - she and many others like her. All of Ponyville at once. Didn't leave a single soul behind." Cherry swore under her breath, her eyes widened. "So, I was just passing overhead, preparing to swoop down and attack the poor wretches like the badass I am, when I see that one pony among the Darkness is still awake, fighting back. It normally takes you out as soon as it gets inside of you, but she remained standing for a good minute or two. I'd never seen anything like that before, so needless to say, I was pretty shocked." Cherry nodded vigorously, enthralled by her friend's story, while Nutmeg sat motionless in silent awe. "I dragged her away as soon as I could, but not before she went under. Not a big deal, though, because she hadn't been exposed to nearly enough Darkness to have any real effect on her. I carried her on my back while I flew home, watching over her as she expelled whatever Darkness was left in her system. And then, when she finally woke up, she violently assaulted me." Nightshade winked at Nutmeg, who had suddenly gained a horrified expression.
"No! We've been over this, Shade. I was caught off guard, that's all! If I had known, I wouldn't have--"
Nightshade drew back, feigning an overdramatic shocked expression. "Okay, calm down! I was just poking fun at you, is all." Cherry rolled her eyes, giving Nightshade a playful shove.
"You girls want anything to drink, then? It's on me." Cherry smiled at the two ponies at the table. Nightshade grinned and flashed Nutmeg a questioning glance.
"What, you're asking me? I'm not your caretaker, Shade. Do what you want. You're a grown mare, for god's sake!" Nightshade gave a chuckle, much to Nutmeg's annoyance.
"No, no, I don't want to have anything alcoholic. The last thing I need right now is something to cloud my judgement, and I don't really enjoy the taste anyway, so I wouldn't drink unless I really had to. Now, what to have..."
