Chapters The needle of the metronome waved back and forth incessantly in front of Astrid’s face, pointing back and forth between different spots on the ceiling as though it were unable to quite decide which spot it wanted to eventually settle on. On and on it waved, perpetually stuck in a rhythm from which it was unable to free itself. She almost felt pity for the small desktop item, imagining how degrading it must feel for it to be trapped like it was. Almost anyway, since it was currently not in any capacity to voice its complaints towards its existence.
Mirroring the needles movement, Astrid’s head tilted back and forth along with it, every stop and start marked by the sound of the ticking that resonated from within the contraption, counting down the seconds. Every once in a little while the young girl would glance up at the galaxy themed clock that was mounted on the wall just above, surrounded on all sides by movie posters and old glow-in-the-dark star stickers, checking to see how long it would be until it the hands indicated it was finally one-o-clock in the afternoon. To her continued dismay however that fabled hour was unfortunately still at least two hours away. While it was step above being three hours away, it still felt to Astrid that she had to wait an eternity until that moment. Sighing with impatience the soon to be former thirteen year old settled her head back town on her folded arms, resuming her watch of the metronome and keeping in tune with its motion, occasionally drumming her fingers on the desk to interrupt the monotony and add an almost musical accompaniment to the perpetual ticking.
Ever so slowly time seemed to pass by, leisurely going by without any thought or consideration given towards Astrid’s growing impatience. It was not long before she looked up again at the clock, hopefully wondering if any significant amount of time had gone by since she had last looked at it. She was just in time to see the minute hand move ever so slightly towards the five.
“Oh come on!” Astrid groaned loudly slumped down, her head impacting on the wood with a soft thunk, her auburn colored hair spilling around her ears. She immediately regretted the action as she lifted her head, massaging the sore spot just above her brow with the palm of her hand. “Ah, bad idea. Bad idea,” she said through clenched teeth as she tried to rub the pain away from her cranium.
“Everything alright in here?” a deep voice questioned behind, a deep and commanding sounding tone that was somehow both gentle and attention grabbing at the same time. Surprised at the unexpected inquiry, Astrid turned around in her seat, catching sight of the tall broad shouldered middle aged man standing in the door to her room, casually leaning against one side of the frame as he smirked a knowing smile at her that could be seen even through his short black beard.
“D-Dad!” Astrid exclaimed as she struggled to regain her composure, Astrid scrambled to make it like she was doing anything but just sitting in her room, bored out of her mind. She desperately hoped that there was not a mark left behind from impact of her skull on hard wood. “What are you doing? You know you’re not allowed in my room! That’s the rule! We both agreed to it!”
At her admonishment, her father took a single step back, holding his hands up defensively as he replied, “My mistake. Won’t happen again sweetheart.” Although he said it, Astrid got the familiar sense that he was not really sorry at all that he had intruded on her sanctum, causing her to raise an eyebrow at his fake apology, and she somehow doubted that this would be the last time it would occur. Lowering his hands her father then proceeded to say, “So, back to my earlier question. Everything alright in here?”
“Yeah,” Astrid replied. “I’m okay. Just, you know, keeping an eye on the clock and all that. You know how it is.”
Her father nodded his head knowingly, although Astrid suspected he knew a little bit too much judging by the odd gleam in his eye. “I get you,” he answered. “Let me guess. Excited for the party?” As much as Astrid wanted to play it cool, even she was unable to deny that she was at least a little anxious about the party that was going to be thrown for her in just a short while as she felt a wide smile stretch across her face, plainly broadcasting how much she was looking forward to it. How could she not be excited after all? Her birthday only came once a year, and her fourteenth birthday would only come around once in her entire life. It was an outlook that she extended to every event in her life that marked indicated that she had managed to survive yet another year. “I’m just going to assume that’s a yes,” her father said with a slight chuckle. “Hey, how about instead of staying up here by your lonesome, you come out of your little cave and help me set up for the party? Everything will get done quicker that way.”
“Wait a minute, you mean actually get off my butt and do something?” Astrid said, attempting to utilize all of her nonexistent acting skills to exaggerate her need to be lazy by slouching in her swivel chair enough to the point where if she went any further she would have fallen off. “Awww, but I don’t want to. I want to stay in here and do nothing but be bored out of my mind.”
“Get out here young lady, and help your old man out for a change. I’m not as young as I used to be you know,” her father said, though it was obvious by the way he said it that there was nothing but mirth behind the order as he walked away, the sound of his heavy footfalls muffled by the carpet flooring.
“Okay, be right out in a minute,” Astrid called after him as she stood up, stretching her arms and legs before going to her closet. Rooting through the assortment of clothes, she tried to find something that she would look at least a little decent in for her party. She was never one for amassing entire collections of different types of clothing materials like other girls her age, limiting her choices a little bit as she searched through the collection of slightly worn graphic tee shirts and gently used coats and jackets. Glancing outside the window, Astrid tried to gauge the temperature before finally coming to a decision, and she donned a simple faded green jacket to stave off the chill of the crisp Fall weather that would no doubt be coming later in the afternoon. Once she was finished getting herself ready she made her way downstairs to help her father prepare.
Progress on the preparations was steady, if a little slow going as Astrid and her father set everything up in the backyard of their house. On one side of the yard two fold up plastic tables had been erected and pushed against the fence, while in the opposite a plain looking banner hung suspended between two thin wooden poles that read “Happy Birthday!” in bold pink letters. And everywhere she looked Astrid could see little star stickers placed on every spare surface, making her guess that there must have a been sale going on at the local shopping center for the glitter variety. When she had been asked about what kind of theme she would have liked a few weeks prior, Astrid had simply said that would prefer to be surprised. In hindsight, she probably should have been a little bit more specific in saying that she would have preferred something that was a little less hard on her retinas, but she supposed it could not be helped now. She did not have the heart to tell her father anyway.
In about an hours time, the two had almost everything ready to go, with only a few small finishing touches to add. The only things that were left that they really needed to do was set out the plates and silverware, which Astrid was currently handling while her father was busy inflating balloons on the deck.
“All finished,” Astrid proclaimed once everything was laid out where it should be.
“Great. I’m almost done here. After that all we really have to do is wait for the guests to arrive,” her father replied as he tied up a freshly inflated balloon. Suddenly he looked up at her as though he had just remembered something and he added, “Actually, that reminds me. Astrid, do you think you could head down to the freezer in the basement? I put your cake in there. If you don’t mind could you get it out so it has a chance to thaw a little bit before everyone gets here? You don’t have to bring it outside, you can just set it on the kitchen counter.”
“Yes sir Dad sir!” Astrid replied with a sharp salute and a serious expression, earning a slight chuckle out of her old man as the mildly eccentric young girl marched back inside to complete her appointed task. Hearing him laugh filled Astrid with no small amount of satisfaction as she stepped inside, walking through the halls of the sparsely decorated interior before eventually finding herself standing before the basement door. She had to fight with the doorknob a little bit in order to get it to budge, but in the end she was victorious as she roughly pulled the door open, eliciting a harsh squeal from the hinges. She could not help but flinch at the horrible sound, and she rubbed her ears.
“Really need to oil those Dad,” she said under her breath, although she doubted that even if he was here to hear her that it was going to happen anytime soon. He always said he would eventually get around to doing it when the opportunity arose, but it seemed that so far that opportunity had yet to show itself. Recovering from her momentary deafness, Astrid began the slow descent down the rickety old stairwell, every step producing a loud creak from the old wood. While the house was not that old and was by no means close to falling apart at the seams, she nevertheless proceeded slowly and carefully down the steps, if only to keep herself from tripping and falling before she reached the light switch at the bottom, which unlike the one at the top actually worked. Feeling along the wall with her hand Astrid searched for the switch until she eventually found it, not hesitating to turn on the light, briefly illuminating the large room, every corner of which was filled with high stacks of boxes filled with all sorts of miscellaneous items that had somehow had not tipped over yet. However the moment the light bulb flared to life it was almost immediately extinguished as it went dark with a sudden pop, startling her.
“Great,” Astrid said with a sigh, wondering if it was worth the effort of going back up stairs to retrieve a fresh light bulb. Eventually she decided to just deal with the overwhelming darkness of the basement as she began to navigate her way to where she remembered the freezer being located, listening for the electrical hum to guide her while trying not to trip over a stray box in the process. The last thing that she needed was another mark on her forehead. Accumulating exactly one stubbed toe and two bruised shins in the process, she progressed forward with her hands stretched out in front of her until her fingers first met a solid brick wall, which she followed until she found the cold metal exterior of the freezer. “There you are,” Astrid proclaimed happily as she searched for the handle and pulled it open, causing the light to flicker on and reveal a collection of frozen burritos, an bag of pizza pockets held closed by a rubber band, and one white ice cream cake decorated with yellow frosting, protected by a plastic cover.
Sliding her hand under the bottom, Astrid pulled it out and nudged the door closed with her foot. She was just about to embark on navigating her way back to the staircase, wondering how likely it was that she would eventually face plant when she tripped, when Astrid suddenly noticed something rather peculiar to her right, making her pause to stop and look at it. Still holding the cake in her arms, she peered at what appeared to be a thin line of soft yellow light along the edge where the wall and the floor met. It was not particularly large or bright, and if it the light bulb had not burnt out she likely never would have even noticed it. To her it almost looked like it was seeping out from the underside of a door. Walking a little bit closer Astrid saw that was indeed what it appeared to be, for she could clearly see that there was a small gap whre the faint light came from, indicating that there was indeed a door that was hidden in the wall.
“What the. . . ?” Astrid questioned aloud, tilting her head in confusion as she looked at it, wondering if it had always been there, and why it had taken her this long to notice it. For a moment she considered what she wanted to do, weighing it against what she probably should do. She still had to take the cake upstairs for it to thaw, and her father was no doubt expecting her to come back sooner rather than later. But at the same time could not help but wonder what exactly she had stumbled upon, and with each passing second her curiosity continued to grow until eventually she could not stand it anymore. She simply had to know what it was. The party preparations could wait a few minutes anyway, right?
Setting the cake on a nearby box, Astrid proceeded to prop the freezer door open so she could at least see where she was going. Even with the wan white light to illuminate the basement, she found that it was still rather dark as she navigated her way around the mounds of boxes, earning herself another stubbed toe until at last she reached the portion of the wall where the light was coming from. Upon inspecting the supposed door, Astrid found that it completely featureless, blending in perfectly with the surrounding brick. She also could not see any sort of knob or lever or anything that she could use to allow her to enter. If it were not for the light, she would have continued to believe that the brick wall really was just a normal brick wall. Getting down on her knees, she attempted to see if she could spy anything underneath. She thought she could just barely make out what looked to be the legs of multiple tables and chairs, but other than she could not see much, and she stood back up to inspect the door even further.
“Hmm,” Astrid hummed thoughtfully as she held her chin between her thumb and index finger, wondering how she was going to get in the secret room. Suddenly it occurred to her that, since it was a secret room, there was likely a concealed means of entry, like pulling out a specific book from a shelf. But seeing as how there were no bookshelves in sight, Astrid settled for simply pressing on different sections of the wall. Aside from her bookshelf idea, it was the only thing she could think that might get her a result.
Just when she thought that maybe this was a fruitless endeavor, Astrid suddenly felt one of the bricks she was pressing on give a little bit as it slid inward like button. At first Astrid was surprised that her idea had actually paid off, and the surprise was quickly replaced by giddy excitement as she eagerly pressed on the brick a little more, pushing it as far as it would go until she heard a satisfying click originating from some hidden mechanism inside the wall, followed by a low rumble as more lines of yellow light appeared, outlining the unmistakable silhouette of a door, which then slid inward to reveal. . .
“Huh?” Astrid said as the wide smile left her face when she saw what was inside the secret room, for all that she could initially see inside of the ten foot by ten foot area was a bunch of worktables, one with a lamp and the other with a stand of some sort, various wooden boxes stacked on top of the remaining tables as well as underneath them that seemed to contain little more than a bunch of old tools, and a single well worn chair. Still hoping to find something worthwhile, Astrid stepped inside, looking around at the dull walls. Running her finger along the top of one of the worktables, it came back covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt particles, indicating that perhaps this place had been untouched for a long time, leading her to guess that it perhaps belonged to the original owners of the house, but that did little to explain why the lamp was still working. The only possibility that she could think of, aside from their house was haunted a rather inconsiderate ghost, was that it belonged to her father. That seemed to make some sense to her at least that he had some sort of private work area, but that only raised the question of why he would have something like this, and why he had not told her about it.
“What are you up to down here Dad?” Astrid asked aloud as her curiosity lead her onward, stoked by the possibility that that her father had some sort of secret down here. As she walked she heard the sound of something crunching beneath her feet, and when she looked down she saw small bits of what appeared to rock that were left scattered on the floor, predominately around the table with the empty stand where a small mound of it was located. She then noticed that, tucked behind the various crates of tools, a rather large chest with a latch sat underneath the table, hidden from view. Astrid walked over to it and bent down to her knees before pushing the other boxes off to the side before pulling the chest out into full view. As far as she could tell there did not seem to be anything special about it, but her experience in discovering this place was indicative that it was not everything it appeared to be.
The chest was not locked, allowing her to simply undo the latch. Then, almost anticipating that something was going to jump out at her, she slowly lifted the lid. What she found inside almost left her disappointed, as it was not quite what she was expecting to find. In the back of her mind, Astrid had sort of hoped that she might have uncovered some dark family secret that would suggest that her father was once part of the mob, thus making her some sort of heiress to the throne of crime syndicate, or was actually some sort of crime fighting vigilante, but instead all she found were four odd looking stone fragments of. . . something that she was not sure of, that had been packed inside the chest with the utmost care to keep them from becoming damaged.
“What the heck are these?” Astrid wondered. “You got a weird crafting hobby or something here Dad?”
While it was not a connection to the mob like she might have been hoping for, meaning she could just kiss her the idea of one day being in charge of a criminal organization goodbye, Astrid still found herself interesting in fragments, which upon closer inspection looked to her like they might be part of a larger whole, like an odd, asymmetrical headpiece. Just looking at it seemed to fill her with an odd mix of apprehension and curiosity.
There was just something about it that really seemed to catch her attention, and keep a hold of it. Maybe it was the intricate geometric line work that was etched into the surface of the fragments, perhaps it was the idea that it was because her father had kept it hidden down here, or maybe it was because she got the strange feeling that she had seen these somewhere before. Either way, Astrid almost felt drawn to it, like they were calling her to reach out and touch them.
Almost without even realizing it, she felt the tips of her fingers slowly close the distance, inching ever closer towards them.
“Astrid?” her father called out, startling her so much that when she retracted her hand she hit her elbow on the rim of the chest, causing it to go numb. For a brief and panic stricken moment the young girl thought that he was right behind her, until a quick check behind her back confirmed that she was still alone in the basement. “Are you alright down there?” he called again as Astrid hurried to set everything back into its proper place, starting by closing the chest and pushing it back under the table.
“Y-yeah, everything’s fine,” Astrid called back, hoping her answer was enough to keep him from coming down after her. “The uh, the light bulb just burnt out is all.” Once everything was back where it should be, at least she hoped so, Astrid proceeded to hurry out of the secret room. For a spit second she was worried about the open door, until she saw that it had curiously slid shut on its own.
“Well is everything alright down there? Do you need any help?”
Too preoccupied with covering her tracks to worry about what was going on with the door, Astrid quickly made her way back to the staircase, almost forgetting her birthday cake in the process. “No, it’s alright. I got it,” she called. Her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest, and she was all sweaty as she made her way back up to the first floor where she found her father waiting for her, attempting to remove a lighter from its plastic vacuum sealed prison.
“There you are,” he said with a grunt as he pulled on the casing with all of his strength. “I was starting to worry that you’d gotten lost down there or something.”
Feigning calm, Astrid replied, “Eh, just had a little trouble with getting through everything. We really need to get rid of some of that junk.” Noticing how much her father was struggling with the plastic casing, Astrid proceeded to suggest as she set the cake on the counter, “Have you tried using scissors?”
“Already tried those, didn’t really get me far,” he replied. After a few more attempts at prying it open he finally seemed to give it up as he tossed the whole thing onto the counter, where it settled next to the cake. “Eh, forget about that. We don’t need candles anyway.” Leaning back against the counter he then added, “So, how are you doing? Feeling alright? Excited?”
Taking a spot next to her father, Astrid put the matter of the secret room out of her mind for the time being as she focused on simply answering him. She could always ask him about it later on, when her birthday gifts were not potentially on the line. “Honestly,” she began to say, feeling slightly unsure how to apply words to the thoughts in her head, “I don’t really know how to feel about it. I mean, after everything that’s happened, moving, settling in, meeting new people. . . it all just feels kind of. . .“
“Incomplete?”
Astrid, unable to think of a better term to describe the feeling, simply nodded her head in agreement with it. “Don’t get me wrong, I really am excited for all of this. . . but it just doesn’t feel quite the same without. . . you know. You know what I mean?” She looked up at her father as she asked the question, noticing that his eyes had turned a little glossy as he stared down at the floor, his usually always present carefree expression replaced by one of considerable solemnity, indicating that he knew only too well what she meant, and making Astrid worry that perhaps she had been a little too upfront with her thoughts. “Sorry,” she said earnestly, hanging her head low. “I didn’t mean to-“
“No, it’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry about.” Turning towards her, Astrid’s father regarded with a smile that, while laced with undercurrents of sadness, held genuine love and affection as he looked at her with his soft warm eyes. A moment later he then said, “Actually, I have something for you that I think you'll like." Once he said this Astrid watched as her father walked to the other side of the kitchen, where he opened a cupboard. Fishing around for something, he soon pulled out a small box encased in red wrapping paper. "I uh, was planning to save this until later, but I think now is just as good a time as any to give it you," he said as he handed it to her.
Astrid was not at all sure what to think as she took the present in her hands, and she glanced up at her father in question. With a nod of his head indicated it was okay for her to open it. Within moments she had torn the paper off, leaving it to settle on the floor as she lifted the lid of the cardboard box, and gasped when she saw what was contained within.
Inside, resting on soft red fabric was a necklace of angel with its wings spread wide, made of many overlapping threads of silver. Contained in its center, as though the angel were gently cradling it, was a brilliant white gemstone that glittered beautifully as the light reflected off of its facets.
"Wow," Astrid breathed in awe. "It's. . . I just. . ."
"Your mother actually picked that out for you," her father said, sidling up beside her. Astrid looked up at him in surprise as he added, "It was when you were still a baby, just learning to crawl around." For a long couple of moments Astrid was unable to think of anything to say in response. In the end, she chose to say nothing as she suddenly embraced her father, wrapping her slim arms around his torso, to which he responded by running his hand along her back. "I take it that you like it?"
"Don't ruin the moment Dad," Astrid said, her voice slightly muffled from having her face buried in his chest, soaking his shirt with tears of happiness.
"Right. Sorry."
Unfortunately it seemed that thanks to the slightly chilly weather, not all of the people that had been invited were able to make it. Astrid was not overly bothered by it however, since she knew beforehand that there was a chance that not everyone would be able to attend, either from seasonal sickness or just being too busy with their own lives. She was just glad that they were at least able to stop by to drop off the gifts.
As for the people that were able to attend, the majority of the younger individuals ran around the backyard chasing each other around while a few concerned parents chased them with coats and jackets in hand, repeatedly ordering the little ones to put them on, all in a display that looked very much like a strange game. The older children that Astrid knew from school, those that were more or less around her age, were for the most part not quite as inclined to take part in such activities, though they still took the time to socialize and engage in idle chit chat with Astrid. Most of it consisted of either congratulating her on surviving yet another year or asking if she had a boyfriend yet, to which she answered with a quick no for all the good it would do in keeping rumors from spreading.
Overall it had not been a bad day, even with a few unexpected mishaps like when one of the younger kids had thrown up from having too much cake or when that one boy who must have been at least four years younger than her tried to get her to hold his hand. There were not many gifts, but Astrid did not really mind. She was just glad that they were here she felt as she talked idly with one of her friends, a slightly older girl by the name of Patricia who regaled her with tales of her vacation in the Florida, politely nodding her head at the end of each sentence as she absentmindedly fingered the pendant that now hung around her neck.
Just then a tap on her shoulder got her attention, and she turned around to find her father standing just behind her. “Hey sweetie, you don’t mind if I run inside for a minute to check on something do you?” he asked, pointing with his thumb back towards the house.
“No, go ahead. I’ll be alright,” she replied. It was only after she said it did the thought suddenly enter her head that he might actually be talking about the secret room, and for a brief moment she felt her heart beat just a little bit faster at the prospect of being found out. But before she could ask him to clarify what he was doing he was already gone, disappeared into doorway.
Astrid shook her head, trying to ward off the nervousness that she was feeling. Additionally, she also felt more than a little guilty at not telling him earlier what she had found, as it would have been much easier on both of them.
'Oh well', she thought morosely. It could not really be helped now. She supposed the best thing she could do right now was try to enjoy the party as much as she could, and try to explain what had happened later and apologize for it. Her father was not a harsh man, but he would no doubt be disappointed when he eventually found out what happened.
Deciding to try not to think about it anymore, Astrid returned her attention to the conversation she had been having with her friend, but still it lingered at the rear of her thoughts.
It was at that very moment that Astrid a very sudden and sharp chill run down her spine, racing down her back like a trickle of ice water, making her go slightly stiff at the unexpected sensation.
“Whew,” Patricia said as she began to rub her arms. “That was weird. Think someone just walked over my grave or something.”
Astrid was just about to tell her friend to not be so morbid, but just as she was about to say it she suddenly realized something rather unsettling. “Wait. You mean you felt that too?” she asked, to which Patricia responded with an expression of confusion. Before she could bother to answer or comment on the odd coincidence, Patricia’s reply seemed to die on her tongue before it could leave her mouth as something caught her attention, and Astrid suddenly heard a voice speak up behind her that made her feel as though her skin were crawling.
“Excuse, young miss,” the voice said. “But would you be so kind as to tell me exactly who resides here?”
Almost too reluctant to do so, Astrid turned around to see who or what had frightened her friend so much.
There, standing far too close for comfort was a tall, thin limbed man that almost seemed to be leaning downward like he was inspecting her, like she were an insect underneath his foot, about to be squashed. He wore a thin lipped smile on his gaunt face that reeked of suspicion. His attire was plain if a bit odd, consisting of a faded robe that stretched down past his thin knees. And his eyes. . . She did not even know where to begin. Astrid knew it was petty of her to judge people based on appearance alone, but there was something particularly off putting about this man that made every siren in her head scream at her that there was something not right with him.
“I do believe I asked you a question, young lady. You weren’t ignoring me, were you?” the man asked, and the way he said it gave her the sense that there was something profoundly wrong about him that she just could not place.
Regaining her composure, Astrid replied with a question of her own. “Who wants to know?” she asked, and she noticed his right eye twitch just a little before he replied.
“Why, I‘m the clown of course,” he said with no small amount of snark. “And I happen to be an acquaintance of the person who owns this. . . place. You would not happen to know him would you?”
The moment he said acquaintance, Astrid’s thought process nearly tripped over itself, making her question if she heard him correctly and that he did not actually say “creepy door-to-door insurance guy”. Did this weird man actually know her father? Unless he had come to the wrong house, which Astrid was beginning to hope was the case, then it was not possible that he could have meant anyone else.
“I should,” Astrid replied as she crossed her arms with a glare. “He just so happens to be my Dad.”
“Really?” the man responded, pinching his chin, and Astrid could not help but notice he way his eyes seemed to narrow ever so slightly as he peered at her. “Well. . . isn’t that just. . . lovely,” he said through clenched teeth, as though he had just tasted something bitter, and Astrid suddenly decided that she had had enough of him.
“Listen sir,” she said, “I don’t know who you are, or even who you think you are, but I think it’s time for you to leave. Your creeping everybody out.” It was true as well, for all around the yard people both young and old were casting suspicious glances their way. A few of the older members even looked about ready to get involved should anything untoward happen to occur. The strange man however did not seem to care about them in the slightest as he continued to stare at her.
“Excuse me,” a familiar and comforting voice spoke up, and in spite of the obvious disdain that was laced behind it, it nevertheless filled Astrid with relief when she looked and saw her father standing a short distance away, arms crossed as he gave the man an unflinching, disapproving glare that, if looks could kill, would have incinerated the man within moments. He then said in a very no nonsense tone, “What’s your business here?”
Either because he did not notice the death glare he was receiving or because he was simply ignoring it, the thin man was unaffected by the demand as he turned towards Astrid’s father, seeming to forget about her instantly as he loudly proclaimed, “There you are my friend. I’ve been looking for you, I’ll have you know. Tell me, how is life treating you these days?”
“Either get to the point or get out of here,” was the reply that he received. Almost instantly the thin lipped smile the thin man was wearing vanished, replaced by a cold expression.
“Still as serious as you ever were, eh?” he said. Glancing back towards Astrid he regarded her in a way that made her feel all kinds of uncomfortable as he added, “And yet I see that you took the time to indulge yourself in at least a few of the pleasantries this place offers.”
“Astrid, me and this fine gentleman here need to talk for a moment. ”
“But-”
“Do as I say Astrid,” he said, cutting her off.
Astrid was no stranger to be scolded from time to time for making a mistake, but hearing him say it like that startled her more than she would have liked to admit, and deep inside her chest she felt her heart clench ever so slightly. Without even realizing it her fingers tightened around the necklace. “O-okay,” she replied, and not a moment later she watched helplessly as her father led the thin man into the house, closing the door behind them. For a long moment afterward all Astrid could do was gaze at the door, wondering what exactly her father’s her father’s relationship with the thin man was. Whatever it was, it clearly was not anything friendly judging by the way her father reacted to his presence. They clearly knew each other somehow, which raised another question in to the one pertaining to the secret room.
Almost an hour later, when people were getting ready to depart for their own homes, staying long enough to help clean up the messes left behind by the little ones, Astrid heard the sound of the door opening as she was picking up discarded plastic forks, and she looked over to see the thin man exit the house, her father close behind. She was about to go over to see if everything was okay, but before she took more than a single step towards him she saw that something was not quite right. Unlike before, when her father looked ready to tear the thin man apart, he now appeared deflated and tired, as though he were about to collapse at any moment.
Snapping herself out of her surprise, Astrid quickly rushed to her fathers side as the thin man casually strolled away, giving her contemptuous glance as he passed her by.
“Dad?” Astrid questioned. “Is everything alright?”
Her father did not answer right away however, choosing instead to glare daggers at the thin mans back as he continued to walk away, seemingly untroubled by the many pairs of eyes that bore down on him. Just as he was about to disappear from view, he suddenly turned around and said, “You remember what I said now. By the time the clock strikes midnight, everything that is a distraction must be disposed of. And I do mean everything .”
Before anyone could anything to chase him off or call the police on him, the thin man vanished around the corner of the house, disappearing from their view.
“Who the hell was that creep?” someone asked.
“No idea, but I‘d be willing to bet that he’s trouble,” another answered.
“If he comes around here again, he’s going to be sorry he did,” yet another person spoke up, receiving a few murmurs of agreement. Astrid’s attention was entirely on her father however as she walked up beside him, looking at him with worry in her eyes.
“Dad?” she asked again when he did not answer her previous question, concern evident in her voice. Finally he looked at her, trying to convey calm. But Astrid could see right away that he was only faking it.
“Don’t you worry about me sweetie,” he finally answered as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “There’s nothing that you need to worry about.” He was lying, and Astrid knew it. Clearly something had occurred between him and the thin man, and the fact that her father told her not to worry only made her worry that much more.
However, deciding to leave him and not press him for answers, Astrid chose instead to simply nod her head. “. . . Okay. If you say so Dad.”
Later that day, long after the guests had left for their own homes and the sun was setting low beneath the distant mountains in the horizon while the moon was beginning to make its ascent, Astrid laid down in her bed, dressed in her nightclothes while casually reading and occasionally chuckling at the latest poorly written supernatural love triangle. As she read she held the pendant of her necklace between her thumb and index finger almost constantly, a strange and somewhat comforting presence around her neck. She hoped that by reading, she could potentially distract herself from the less savory things that had occurred earlier that day that she would rather forget about entirely. But instead they persisted in coming back to the front of her thoughts, time and time again, distracting her from her own distractions. Her thoughts were uneasy whenever they returned to the thin man, wondering what exactly had happened between him her father.
Astrid sighed in defeat as she closed the book with a soft thud, casually tossing it onto the dresser as she laid down on her back, the pendant still clutched in her hands as she stared at the ceiling and the small galaxy of faded star stickers from her youth. Hopefully by morning the matter with the thin man would be forgotten. At least that was Astrid’s hope as she removed the necklace, placing it on the nightstand beside her bed so it would not strangle her as she slept.
Letting her weariness take hold, Astrid closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, letting herself be lulled by the sound of the metronome ticking away.
Astrid awoke to the sound of her father calling her name, causing her eyes to flutter open only to find that the room was dark, indicating that it was still night outside. A quick glance toward her window confirmed this when Astrid saw a crescent moon hanging amidst a sea of twinkling stars.
“Astrid?” her father called again, a little louder this time.
“I’m coming,” she called back as she sat up, letting a yawn escape her lips, and she absentmindedly wondered how long she had been asleep. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, feeling as though she were still asleep as she shambled her way to the bedroom door, only stopping to don her necklace before making her way downstairs.
She found him in the living room, sitting down in his chair facing away from her. It was somewhat dim with only a single lamp to illuminate the area, but it was more than enough for Astrid to instantly catch sight of the same set of stone fragments sitting on the coffee table. Upon seeing them, she felt her heart skip a beat and her blood run just a little colder in her veins.
Hearing her approach from behind, Astrid’s father beckoned her to come over with a wave of his hand as he said, “Come here where I can see you.” Knowing better than to disobey, especially considering she was obviously in trouble, Astrid obeyed, her head slightly bowed as she circled around into his field of view. When she saw him Astrid had been expecting him to be bearing a look of mild anger or disappointment at her error in judgment, but what she found instead was a man who looked like he had been broken. His hair was a mess, and his once warm comforting eyes were now red and bloodshot. He had been crying she realized.
“D. . . Dad?” Astrid spoke up hesitantly, almost too afraid to disturb him. He did not look at her though as he stared at the stone fragments with something akin to contempt. His shoulders rose and fell as he breathed in a heavy sigh. “Dad, I-“
“I should have known that I couldn’t keep something like this from you,” he said, surprising with the odd statement. She could not think of anything to say in response, and tilted her head slightly in confusion. “To think I actually thought I could keep something like this hidden, that you would never have to get involved.” At this he looked up at her, fresh tears plainly visible on his face as he regarded her with a look of remorse. “I never wanted this for you.”
“Dad?” Astrid said, beginning to feel slightly unnerved by his manner of speech. “What are you talking about?”
Her father instead shook his head. “There’s not enough time to explain. He’s on his way here right now to take you away.”
“Who?” Astrid demanded, growing frustrated and frightened at the same time. “Dad, I don’t understand what’s going on! Who’s coming?!” The moment she uttered those words she noticed a faint light just outside the window. At first she thought it was just the headlamps of an inconsiderate neighbor, but quickly saw that was not the case as it gradually increased in intensity.
Rising up out of his seat, Astrid’s father picked up one of the fragments before he then turned towards her, becoming little more than a black silhouette against the window.
“Astrid,” he said, tears in his voice as he took hold of her hands, forcing her to grip it with her fingers. To her, it felt as though she were touching ice as the surface of the fragment was almost painfully cold. Despite her attempt to wrest herself free, her father kept her hand in place. “Astrid. . . my angel. . . I have never done right by you or your mother. And not a day has gone by where I don’t think that I don’t deserve you. But no matter what happens, I want you to know that you were the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”
“D-Dad? What are you. . .” Astrid stammered, unable to complete the sentence as she felt her own eyes begin to moisten. A moment later she began to feel lightheaded, and before long her vision was swimming as it appeared the room was spinning around her. Just as the light outside became unbearable to look at and Astrid was unable to keep her balance a moment longer, she heard her father say one last thing to her before she fell, losing consciousness.
“Astrid. . . I love you.”
Author's Note
Hello my dear readers, and welcome back to another tale by yours truly.Schroedingers Katze and Amethyst Dawn for their help with the first few chapters, and allowing me to bounce my insane ideas off of them in order to get this fic started. Really, if you two are reading this, you both have my undying gratitude.
Floating.
All Astrid could feel around her was the strange and surreal sense that she was floating. It was not like she was on water, bobbing aimlessly along on the surface only to sink down into the fathomless depths. No, this felt different, somehow. She was not sure how else to explain it other than that word, “somehow”. She was just. . . floating. That was all there really was too it if she were honest, and she doubted she could have come up with a better way to describe the feeling if she even if she had the words, forced to stick with the comparison as she drifted through a seemingly eternal nothingness with no clear end in sight.
Suddenly she heard an echo through the void, brutally assaulting her sense of hearing and making her involuntarily cringe in discomfort. She opened her eyes a tiny bit, trying to ascertain the source of her torment as what seemed to be multiple voices spoke words she did not know, their tone shrill and harsh. Her vision was blurry and she had difficulty making anything out, but what she could see frightened her to no end.
She saw an eye, peering at her mercilessly and without anything remotely resembling kindness, compassion or even a small hint of pity. Instead it seemed to glare at her almost hatefully, unmoving and unblinking in the depthless existence that Astrid had somehow found herself caught in.
It was cold. So very cold, like her very blood had become frozen within the veins of her flesh as the eye kept its gaze locked on her. Hoping to ward it off, Astrid curled up in a fetal position, fruitlessly attempting to cling to some imaginary hope for warmth to come and bring her comfort, to make it not feel so cold, to make it so that her heart did not hurt anymore.
She wanted to go back home.
She wanted her father.
When Astrid finally awoke, she did so with startled gasp.
“Dad!” she exclaimed frightfully as she sat bolt upright. She instantly regretted the action, as she was suddenly wracked with an enormous pain in her head, pounding away at the interior of her skull like a jackhammer. Wincing from the painful sensation, Astrid clutched her head between her hands as she tried to massage the pain away, with little success.
“Wha. . . what happened?” Astrid questioned aloud, not really expecting an answer as she recovered from the dream she just had just awoken from. That was all it could be, right? It had just been a bad dream that she had after going to bed. But that did little to explain the headache she was suffering from, which continued to relentlessly assault her brain as she gripped her head in discomfort, and all she could really think about was finding some aspirin.
Removing one of her hands from her head, Astrid’s senses gradually returned to her as she got up out of her bed, trying to orient herself enough so she could reliably find the bathroom. She absentmindedly noticed that the blankets beneath her palm seemed to feel rather odd against her skin. Did she sleep on her arm funny or something? Astrid decided not to pay it much mind, as it felt like she were recovering from a brain aneurysm. Tentatively she opened her eyes to see where she was going, and Astrid found that it was almost pitch black. It was obvious it was still nighttime, but there should have been at least a little light from the streetlamps streaming in through her window. Was there a blackout in their neighborhood or something?
Astrid decided that she would ask her father about it later as she walked forward. Or at least she tried to. The moment she took a single step Astrid toppled over, falling to the ground and flailing her arms in a desperate attempt to regain her balance, resulting in her falling flat on her face. “Ow!” Astrid exclaimed, propping herself up and momentarily forgetting her headache as she rubbed her bruised nose. Thankfully a bruise was all that she had suffered, but that soon became the least of Astrid’s worries. It was only then, with her palms on the ground, that Astrid realized that it was not the carpeted floor of her room.
Grass. She felt grass underneath her palms. Why did she feel grass? The obvious answer to that was that she was outside, but that only raised the subsequent question of why she was outside to begin with.
Sitting up on her knees, Astrid’s eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She could now see her surroundings, and was very much alarmed to find not the familiar poster covered walls of her room, but instead the trunks of a great many trees reaching up into the sky, where a mere sliver of a crescent moon could be seen hanging suspended among the stars. Astrid was not entirely positive, but she was reasonably sure that it was full when she had gone to sleep last night.
“What the. . . where am I? What happened?!” Astrid asked aloud, growing more and more alarmed with every second that passed with no explanation as to how she had somehow wound up outside. She began to stand up to get her bearings, but the moment she tried to do so she immediately fell down, feeling strangely off balance for some unknown reason, adding a bruise to the back of her head to accompany the one on her nose. The impact caused her headache to flare up once again, reminding her of its presence. Astrid groaned, wincing from the discomfort before she was able to open her eyes again, staring up at the crescent moon which stared back through the canopy above.
She rolled over, groaning from the small amount of effort, and propped herself up on her hands and knees. It was then that Astrid finally noticed something was very, very wrong with what she was seeing.
She was glowing. More specifically, her arms and hands were glowing. Even more specifically, little lines that spider-webbed across her arms and hands were glowing, forming odd patterns and producing a soft greenish hue, gently illuminating pitch black skin and small pointed protrusions jutting out of her forearms like thorns.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Astrid positioned herself onto her knees, bringing her hands up closer to her face. Instead of her own fingers, Astrid found small pointed appendages that were not quite claws, but nothing resembling human anatomy either either. They flexed and bent like fingers, but they, along with her arms, felt much too long and slender for her body. Frantically, Astrid checked herself to see if anything else about her was different, and was shocked to find that her body had undergone a similar, if not more drastic transformation.
She was still dressed in her night clothes, and her necklace still hung around her neck, but even with them on Astrid could plainly see her torso had somehow shrunk. Her skin had been recolored into a deep black with a strip of white running down the middle of her chest, the rest hidden by her nightshirt. She also noticed her hair had changed as well, transforming from shoulder-length auburn locks into a long rippling wave of orange and yellow that was almost radiant in the darkness, reaching well past her waist and dragging on the ground.
Was she still dreaming? She must still be dreaming. That was the only explanation for it, it had to be. None of this was real, none of it. It simply was not possible, there was no way this could have happened. It did not matter how lucid she felt as she gazed at herself in horror, nor how much the slight ache within her skull convinced her that she was very much awake, she must still be asleep and in the process of having a strange nightmare, one that she desperately hope to soon wake up from.
Except she did not wake up, no matter how much she pinched herself or told herself to wake up as she clutched her head between her hands, barely noticing her ears were now long and pointed. The headache and the prickly sensation of grass beneath her legs finally convinced her that she was not dreaming. She was awake. This was no dream.
Which meant that her father-
“Dad!” Astrid gasped, memories of the last time she saw her father flooding to the forefront of her mind. She swung her head left and right, desperately searching for any sign that her father was nearby, but all she saw in her immediate vicinity were dark trees, now seeming to be closing in her from all sides as her heart rate began to skyrocket. “Dad?! Dad?!” Astrid called again, shouting at the top of her lungs, hoping she could be heard. She received no response of any kind, furthering her descent into panic. “Dad, where are you?! Dad!” Desperate to find her father, Astrid forced herself to stand, barely keeping herself upright on two thin legs, beginning an unsteady sprint forward.
Not a moment later Astrid tripped again, but this it was because of her lack of balance. Her foot struck something on the ground, causing her to topple over. Glancing backward, Astrid saw the thing that had usurped her footing was none other than one of the stone fragments, the geometric patterns forming a slanted eye that seemed to stare at her with a piercing gaze.
The same eye she had seen in her dream.
Nearby were the other three fragments, arranged in such a way that they actually formed a perimeter around where Astrid initially woke up, something she only now just realized. The moment Astrid saw them, she felt as ifshe had been struck in the chest, remembering their involvement in the last moments she had seen her father, and the cold feeling they sent up her arm when she touched them; cold like the touch of death.
Seeing them like this, strewn about on the ground as they were, sent an unsettling chill up Astrid’s spine. She felt something inside of her twist a little, screaming at her to get away from them, to run as fast as her now short legs could carry her, which was just what she did as she scrambled to her feet, desperately trying to put as much distance between her and those evil things as possible, all while crying out for her father to come and find her.
“Dad!” she screamed, tears forming in her eyes as she sprinted past trees and bushes, her lengthy hair often getting tangled up in their branches. Astrid paid it no mind. All she cared about right now was finding something, anything that was familiar to her, anything she could use to find her way back home and put an end to this nightmare she was undoubtedly trapped in. Tearing her way past low hanging branches and sticks, Astrid accumulated many cuts and scrapes in the process that marred her black skin and poking holes in her nightshirt, but they went unnoticed.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of fighting her way through the dense forest, Astrid stumbled out into the open, feeling dirt beneath the soles of her miniscule feet. She realized that she had come to a road running alongside the forest. She looked to the right, hoping she could find something to guide her way.
She saw nothing of immediate value leading in that direction other than an empty dirt road seeming to go on forever into the night. She looked to her left. When she did, she still saw a dirt road, but also something that gave her pause and confused her utterly.
A castle. There was a castle in the distance. A castle with a great many towers and parapets reaching high up into the clouds from its perch on the side of a mountain, looking very much like the attention-grabbing centerpiece of some absurdly large crown. For a few long moments Astrid was frozen in place as she stared at the unexpected sight, wondering how in the world it was there. As far as she knew there were no castles around where she lived, especially none that hung suspended on the side of a mountain. So enthralled and perplexed was she by the view that Astrid almost did not notice the sound of wheels on the road behind her, accompanied by the steady thudding of what could only be a horses’ hooves, growing louder by the second.
Whirling around, Astrid did so just in time to see she was directly in the path of a horse galloping towards her while a carriage trailed behind it, rattling as it was pulled along rather roughly. Like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, Astrid was unable to do so much as move a muscle, witnessingthe carriage draw closer and closer. It was only when she could actually see the whites of the horses abnormally large eyes that she realized that she was about to become roadkill if she did not move immediately, prompting her to dive off to the side with a frightened yelp followed by a pained grunt as she landed on her chest. She heard the sound of hooves skidding on the ground and a masculine voice exclaiming in a surprised tone, “What in the world?!”
Though she did not see who it was that had spoken, Astrid decided that she would rather not find out what their reaction to her might be given what she currently looked like. She quickly crawled away back into the bushes, hiding herself from view without even bothering to look behind. She waited, terrified of being found for what seemed like minutes with nothing save for the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the occasional chirp of a cricket to fill the silence.
Before long she heard what seemed to be footsteps, or a pair of footsteps slowly approaching her position, growing steadily louder. “What was that little thing?” the voice questioned, and at once Astrid felt her heart begin to race and a nervous sweat run down her face. The more sensible side of her being told her she should just come out to see if whoever was out there could help her in some way, but the logical part of her mind was suffocated, drowned out by her fear and the irrational possibility that they would recoil at her appearance and harm her. For all she knew they could have been involved taking her away from her home, and that thought alone was more than enough to keep her quiet, praying for them to just leave her alone.
Again the footsteps drew near. It was all that Astrid could do to keep her herself from breaking down completely. She covered her mouth to keep herself from being heard as she frantically thought to herself over and over again, tears running down her face, Go away go away please leave just go away I don’t want to die please don’t hurt me go away please go away Dad please help me I’m scared go away.
Suddenly a new voice rang out, interrupting Astrid’s panicked thoughts. The voice was decidedly feminine as whoever it belonged to demanded, “Driver, what is going on out there? Why have we stopped?”
“Apologies ma’am,” the male voice replied, sounding almost as if he were standing right next to Astrid, causing her heart to skip a few beats. “Just saw something strange on the road. Not sure what it was though.”
“Well, figure it out later,” the female voice demanded impatiently. “We are already late enough as it is, and I don’t to be held up by some woodland creature. And I most certainly am not paying you to stand around and be distracted by every little thing. Now if you don’t mind I would like for us to be on our way.”
Astrid heard a tense sigh, followed by, “Yes ma’am, right away.” Soon afterward the sound of footsteps receding in the distance reached her long ears. Relief spread through Astrid as she slumped down, her heart still feeling as though it were about to burst its way out of her chest. She honestly felt as if she had just run a marathon nonstop, yet was still ready to dart away at a moments’ notice. But even then, she dared not move for fear giving herself away. It was not until she picked up the telltale sound of the carriage rolling away that she felt it was safe enough to risk peeking out. She did so just in time to see the rear of the carriage receding in the distance, until it eventually faded from view, heading in the direction of the city on the mountain.
Glancing around to see if the coast was still clear, Astrid cautiously ventured out of her hiding place, wondering who those two people had been. She had not seen either of them, but Astrid had been too afraid at the time to care. All that really mattered to her at the time, and still mattered, was the question of what she was going to do to keep others from seeing her like this. Astrid looked down at her hands, the markings on them still glowing in an almost ethereal green glow. She noticed her necklace dangling down in front of her chest, the silver angel reflecting the moons light. Holding it in her palm, Astrid gazed at it forlornly, the realization setting in that it was probably her only remaining connection to her home.
“What do I do now?” she questioned aloud in a soft and pleading voice. She closed her fingers around the necklace, looked up at the star filled sky above, hoping for an answer-anything that could help her- to present itself. Given everything that had happened it seemed just as likely as anything else. But no matter how much she hoped and silently pleaded, no answer to her predicament was forthcoming, leaving Astrid standing alone on the side of an unknown road, in the middle of apparently nowhere, with no clear indication of where to even go. The only visible landmark to be seen for miles was the castle, far off in the distance.
A breeze passed by Astrid, prompting her to wrap her arms around her torso to conserve warmth. She realized just how cold it was out here, and how ill-equipped she was to deal with it. The only piece of actual clothing that she seemed to have aside from her necklace was her nightshirt, which was not at all suited to stave off the cold of the night. But, unwelcome as the feeling might have been, at the very least it gave Astrid a goal- that being to find some place warm and relatively safe to sleep for the night. A quick glance at the dense wall of trees behind her was enough to quickly dispel them as an option. She did not particularly fancy sleeping in a bush, and the idea that there could be all sorts of animals that would not hesitate to make a meal out of her lurking near-by only made it seem that much less appealing.
But more than anything else, that was where the fragments were located, and Astrid wanted to put as much distance between herself and those evil things as possible.
However, this still left the question of where to go. As much as Astrid would have preferred not to, her only real option for the time being was to head in the same direction as the carriage, towards the castle.
Wiping away at her face with her arm, Astrid proceeded to walk at a quick though unsteady pace, following the trail left in the dirt road by the carriage’s wheels and the horse’s hooves. As she walked, she kept her hand tightly wrapped around her necklace, refusing to loosen her grip for even a moment, as if it would disappear the moment she let go.
Feeling time was of the essence if she wanted to return home any time soon, Astrid quickened her pace, as much as her unfamiliar gait would allow, occasionally being tripped up by own hair in the process, hoping that she would find something that could help her find her way.
Astrid was not entirely sure how long she had been running, only that it had been long enough for her unsteady pace to devolve into a weary shuffle as her feet dragged on the ground, creating twin trails in the dusty road behind her. A spike of discomfort to shot up her legs from the soles of her tiny feet with every step that she took. In the time that passed since she started following the trail left by the carriage, the moon had descended down into the sky by a considerable margin. The edges of the horizon had become tinged with hints of purple and blue. Morning was not very far off, yet all Astrid really wanted to do was find a place to rest, feeling ready to simply collapse on the side of the road.
But still the girl plodded onward, hoping that she could something, anything, able to help her. She could not stop now, she felt, not if she wanted to get home. Yet with every minute that passed her by it became more and more apparent to Astrid that the likelihood of that happening anytime soon were about on par with her being able to move the sun.
Disheartened by this revelation, Astrid tried to think of something else to distract her from the current situation. But the only other topic that was even remotely interesting to her was her body. As she shuffled along, Astrid often looked down at her hands, wondering how in the world her being completely changed like this was even possible. It simply made no logical, or even illogical, sense in any capacity. Besides, it only reminded Astrid of the events leading up to her situation, which was the last thing she really wanted to be thinking about. Shaking her head of such gloomy thoughts, Astrid tried to move on to a different topic, such as where she was going to rest. The longer she walked the more apparent her weariness, both mental and physical, became. Her gaze was half lidded and her shuffling gradually degraded even further into a slow shamble. She could hardly even keep her head from sagging downward, and more than once she caught herself nodding off.
In the back of her tired mind, Astrid could not help but wonder if perhaps she should have revealed herself to those people from the carriage. Although there was the chance they could have been involved in her being displaced from her home, logic dictated there was also the chance they were not, and might in fact have been more than willing to lend her their aid. But of course, she had been too frightened to take the chance, and for good reason she felt.
Oh well , Astrid thought to herself. Can’t really be helped now.
With nothing save for the chirp of crickets to accompany her, Astrid put aside such thoughts, and focused instead on continuing forward. The task would have been easier to tolerate if she did not trip over her own hair every few moments. As if to emphasize the point, at that exact moment Astrid’s feet became entangled in the orange mess of hair that dragged along the ground for the umpteenth time, resulting in her falling to the ground. Groaning in frustration as she picked herself up, Astrid brushed herself off, deciding that she’d had enough of it. “I’ve got to get a haircut or something! This is just getting ridiculous,” she grumbled, sitting down off to the side of the road. She proceeded to tie up the mass of follicles into a series of manageable knots, turning it into something that more or less resembled a braid. It did not help that a large amount of dirt and twigs had gotten caught in it, but Astrid was not really concerned with making it look pretty as she finished tying it up with a yank. With the minor annoyance taken care of, Astrid picked herself up and continued plodding long, still wondering where she would eventually rest her head.
At least another half hour passed by in this manner, and just when Astrid began to start thinking that she would eventually be forced to camp out in the forest, she spotted something glowing in the distance. Pausing in her trek, she squinted in order to try and get a better look at whatever it was, but the most she could discern was a lantern or light post of some sort. She was not sure exactly why, but for some reason it seemed she was having a harder time in seeing things as the sky overhead continued to brighten. It was not enough to completely impair her vision; she could still see where she was going, but Astrid found it rather worrying to think she might be going blind on top of everything else that had happened to her. Approaching the light, she hoped it was only from how tired she was.
Soon enough, Astrid was close enough to confirm the light was indeed a lantern, gently swaying back and forth as it hung from a hook on the top of signboard. For a brief moment, Astrid wondered if she was indeed going blind, since she was having difficulty in making out the words written on the board, until she realized upon closer inspection that the reason for her confusion was they were written in a language completely foreign to her. Flummoxed, the only thing she did understand was the artfully crafted arrow hanging below it by a thin chain, pointing at something to her right.
Glancing in the indicated direction, Astrid was somewhat flummoxed to see what appeared to be a train platform, with two sets of tracks running along either side. Sitting on one of the tracks was steam train, with a line of freight cars hooked up behind it. The engine itself looked rather odd to Astrid, appearing to have be constructed almost entirely of wood. Both it and the cars were decorated, to an almost garish degree, with copious amounts of brightly colored paint. Against the backdrop of the darkened forest and the vacant platform, it stood out quite profusely.
“Hello?” Astrid called out, looking around for any signs of activity. “Is anybody there? I need some help.” She waited for a few moments, but to her dismay, no reply was forthcoming, leaving her to wonder if she was completely alone. But when she took a closer look at the train itself, she saw a small pillar of steam coming out of its funnel, concluding someone had at least been here recently. She knew steam trains in particular took a long time to prepare, given how long it took for their boilers to heat, meaning that there must at least be someone here to keep an eye on it, someone that could hopefully point her in the direction she needed to go to get home. Maybe they were just on break or something?
While Astrid considered the matter, a tired yawn escaped her lips. As much as she would have preferred to wait until the engineer or anyone for that matter, to show up, she was simply too drained physically, mentally and emotionally to stay awake for much longer. She felt as if she were ready to simply pass out on the spot. She begrudgingly glanced around, hoping that there was someplace nearby she could rest. Just then, she noticed that one of the sliding doors on one of the freight cars had been left open a tiny bit. Shuffling over, Astrid could see that although it was only a small gap, it was just large enough for her small form to slip through without too much difficulty. Cautiously, she poked her head inside, and was summarily greeted by the sight and scent of straw. Pushed up against the walls were large bales of hay, tied together by lengths of rope and filling almost every corner of the car.
“Guess I’m a stowaway now,” Astrid muttered darkly, finding very little reason to even so much as sneer at her attempt at humor. All she could do was let out a heavy sigh through her nose, and with some effort, she hoisted herself up off the platform and into the car. Loose pieces of straw crunched beneath her feet as she shuffled forward, beginning the process of moving enough of it over to one spot to serve as a bed. It only took a few minutes, but by the efforts end, Astrid felt she was about to simply pass out from exhaustion. She plopped down onto the makeshift bed, feeling tiny pinpricks all over her body.
Yet for some reason, even though she was laying down, more than ready for at least a few hours of decent rest, Astrid was still kept awake by the thoughts continuing to roil through her mind. She stared at the roof of the train car, forlornly pondering the circumstances that had befallen her.
Just a short while ago, though it felt like an eternity at this point, Astrid had a bed. A a real bed, not something she had been forced to piece together with loose pieces of straw. She'd had a roof over her head, decorated with faded glow-in-the-dark stickers she herself had picked out and placed when she was younger. The grey metal roof of the train car was a poor substitute. She'd had a home, and her father, whom she could always depend on to protect her and keep her safe.
It’s gone. All gone.
Astrid felt her breath catch in her throat as that single thought entered her head, blotting out everything else, smothering any hope she might have had of going home, that all of this was little more than a nightmare.
A great and terrible weight settled on Astrid’s heart, crushing it beneath an oppressive and all-encompassing presence.
Clutching her necklace in her hand, the only thing she had left of her home, Astrid rolled onto her side. She clenched her eyes shut, but was unable to keep a stream of hot tears from running down her face as she opened her mouth, letting a choked sob escape her lips.
Whether it was for only a few minutes or a stretch of hours, Astrid wept bitterly until her eyes were dry and puffy and her wails were reduced to choked gasps of anguish. Only then was she able to finally drift off into a restless slumber.
The wan light of the moon shone down on the city of Canterlot from on high, gently illuminating the empty streets and roadways. The dark sky was mostly clear of clouds, allowing an almost unobstructed view of the starry night. Standing outside, on the balcony of a tower that stood taller than most any of the structures in the marble city, a pony with the purest coat of white and a mane that rippled like the northern lights, Princess Celestia, regarded the night sky with an impassive, almost blank expression as she stared at the remnants of the moon. The air around here was cool against her body, infiltrating its way past her fur and chilling the skin beneath, leaving the golden regalia she wore to feel more like ice upon her coat.
Celestia let out a heavy sigh, producing a small white cloud before it quickly dissipated in the frigid mountain air. As she watched, she absentmindedly shuffled her feathery wings into a more comfortable position, the visible sliver of the moon slowly descend towards the dark horizon. The night sky gradually began to brighten, turning from a dark, midnight blue to a deep shade of purple. It would not be long now until she raised the sun, signaling the beginning of yet another day for Equestria. Then she would hear the eventual bustle of the city below, sprawled out before her like a foal’s oversized play set. Afterward she would have to once more subject herself to the trials and horrors of politics and paperwork.
But that could all wait just a little bit longer. For the moment, Celestia was content to stand alone on her balcony, overlooking the dawn of a new day, mentally marking it off, reminding herself to do the same on her actual calendar later. That could wait as well, as the alabaster alicorn was mostly content with staying right where she was.
Mostly content, for as Celestia watched the moon continue on its path downward, the bottom half now sinking out of sight, she felt her breath hitch ever so slightly within her throat, momentarily cutting off her ability to breathe properly. At the same time, she felt her eyes moisten.
Closing her violet eyes, Celestia forced herself to regain her composure, her mouth forming a tight grimace across her muzzle. Soon it would be time yet again for Celestia to return to her duty as the sole Princess of Equestria, and it would not do to let anypony see her like this. She had to maintain control, no matter what. Steeling herself and reaffirming her sense of self control, Celestia took a deep breath, letting it out through her nostrils as the last little bit of moonlight vanished altogether, giving way for the sun to rise, chasing away the darkness and shadows, casting the city in the warm rays of dawn. The sun's light reflected off the predominately white buildings of Canterlot in such a way that was almost blinding to the eye.
Celestia hardly noticed though. She rarely took the time to notice these days, even with Equestria more at peace than it had ever been in centuries, and she and her ponies went through their daily routines with nary a thought to spare towards the concept of troubled times. Throughout the centuries she had been watching over her ponies, she could hardly imagine a more prosperous period in her country’s history. Yet when she looked down at the city on the mountain, watching as the streets gradually began to fill up, and the sun climbed ever higher over the horizon, she felt. . . malcontent, for lack of a better description. While she would be the first to say with absolute sincerity that she was very much proud of her ponies and her nation she helped shape, Celestia still could not keep out of her heart the subtle and omnipresent sense that something was missing, leaving a void in its place.
Celestia sighed once her daily task of raising the sun was complete, setting it on its usual course across the sky. Finished with her chore, she turned around, mentally preparing herself for yet another long day of tending to the troubles that would inevitably be brought to her attention. Most days were fairly uneventful, but every once in while something would crop up that required her attention- usually having to do with the nobles. And as usual she was the one to whom her little ponies turned to resolve it.
However, just when she was about to go inside and make her way down to the throne room, Celestia felt. . . something. It was subtle, so subtle that she almost did not notice it. She was tempted to pass it off as nothing more than an effect of the cold air of the Canterhorn Mountain. But the more she considered it, the more she recognized that there was something decidedly different about this feeling, something that she could not quite place. She paused just before going inside to turn around, trying to identify where it was coming from. The feeling did not last very long however, and soon vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the Princess slightly confused as to what its cause.
The only way she felt could adequately describe it was cold, but not in any way that was natural. Rather, it was like a looming sense of dread and insecurity, lingering on her spine like the tip of an icy claw, drawing a line between her shoulders, causing unnatural goose bumps to form under her white fur, and an involuntary shudder of her wings.
“Hmmm,” Celestia hummed, furrowing her brow ever so slightly. The odd sensation was gone, but it had left an impression on her thoughts. She could not decide if the feeling was wrong, or even worth her prolonged attention. In the end, Celestia decided to simply let it go for the time being, choosing to look into it further if it persisted in being a distraction. For the moment, she had her duties to attend to.
Author's Note
And welcome back, all you beautiful people, to the long awaited rewritten chapters. Gosh it's been so long, hasn't it? Getting back into writing has reminded me how much I enjoy it, and I'm not sure why I stopped in the first place.
Drawn from the depths of her slumber, Astrid awoke to the sound of something or someone causing some sort of commotion just outside of her room. She grimaced and rolled over onto her side, hoping to block out the noise so that she could go back to sleep. She absentmindedly reached for her blanket so she could pull it over herself, but her hands came up empty as she groped around blindly.
Astrid groaned as the noise persisted despite her desire for silence. It sounded like someone was talking. Their voices were mostly unintelligible, resulting from a combination of Astrid’s own grogginess and the distance between them, but as she continued to unwillingly listen the more apparent it became that it was not just a few people talking, but rather a large gathering, all chattering away with no consideration given towards her need for rest. It especially did not help at all that one of her legs felt as though ants were crawling on her skin, indicating that she slept in an awkward position.
“Dad,” Astrid grumbled halfheartedly, not really concerned with the fact that her father probably was unable to hear from downstairs. “Could you tell them to keep it down? I’m tryin’ to sleep.”
Much to her annoyance the talking and chattering persisted, and Astrid once again tried to find her blanket, being more attentive this time. However, she was mildly perplexed when instead of the soft covers of her bed her palm was met by a peculiar, and rather prickly sensation against her skin. For a brief moment Astrid wondered what was going on, until her eyes finally fluttered open, and she realized that she was not in her bed, or even in her house. Unable to move her body from panic, Astrid glanced around, taking in the sight that was the hay filled interior of the freight car.
“Oh."
It was a simple exclamation that did nothing to encompass the severity of it all that had happened, from the moment she first touched the fragments to disappearing from home to crying herself to sleep in a seemingly unattended train car, forced its way back to the forefront of her mind. Eventually the panic faded, leaving little more than a feeling of morbidity hanging over her head as she regained her faculties and sat up. She looked down at herself, hoping beyond hope that she had somehow reverted back to her own body in her sleep, but instead found that she was still stuck as. . . whatever in the world she happened to be at the moment. Her body was still shrunk down and disproportioned, her hair was still an unnaturally vivid shade of orange. In short, everything that she was, that she used to be, was no more, replaced by something she could not even begin to describe.
A rat scurried past, its furry body brushing up against Astrid’s hand. She screamed in disgust as she hurried away from the rodent. The rat disappeared in the stacks of hay, leaving the girl more than a little bit perturbed at the thought it being around her.
Astrid sighed, staring at the floor. She didn't really want to do anything other than just go back to sleep and forget about her troubles, for all of the good that would her. As to what she would do when she woke up again, she had not a single idea. She was at a complete and total loss as to what she should even do right now at this very moment. Deciding to just leave the issue alone until later, Astrid laid back down as she closed her eyes, her hand moving up to her chest to grip necklace. Her eyes shot back open however when she realized that something was very wrong as she felt around her neck, her hand grasping at nothing.
Her necklace was missing.
Almost instantly the weariness vanished from Astrid’s mind as the panic from earlier returned with a vengeance, and she darted her head left and right in search of her missing necklace. It was nowhere to be seen however, and before long she deduced that it must have sunk into the straw.
“Oh no, oh no no no no, please don’t do this to me!” Astrid rambled as she furiously searched through the layers of straw. Just when she thought it had disappeared for good she felt something cold and hard bump against her finger. She quickly closed her hand around it, and immediately Astrid felt a monumental amount of relief sweep over her as she retrieved her necklace, holding it close to her chest for fear of losing it again.
She had not even realized she had been crying the whole time until the tears fell pattered against her knee, and she curled up on her side in a desperate attempt to forget everything, knowing it would only further break her heart.
“Hey, did you hear that?”
Astrid’s head snapped up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, her attention drawn to the door.
Another voice spoke up, saying in a bored tone, “I don’t know, what did it sound like?”
“It sounded like something snuck on board to me.”
“Well, then go in there and chase it off. I don’t want to file a report saying that another shipment had an infestation.”
Astrid scrambled around, already in a state of absolute panic as she frantically tried to decide what she was going to do, looking around for anything that could keep her from being discovered. The sound of footsteps drew closer by the second, although as before they sounded odd to her ear, as though whoever was approached were wearing wooden sandals. With no other option available to her other than let herself be caught, Astrid dove into the hay, ignoring the possibility of rats while covering herself as much as possible before staying as still as possible. Soon enough the footsteps stopped, and the car door was pushed open.
Astrid covered her mouth with a hand, not trusting herself to stay quiet as the person hopped up into the train car. Seconds passed, during which Astrid dared not move until finally the person said, “Eh, I don’t see anything.”
“Then get your flank back out here and help me move this junk. I don’t get paid by the hour you know.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”
The person exited the train car, allowing Astrid to breathe a sigh of relief, until she realized where she was and quickly extricated herself from the hay. “Gross, gross, gross,” she stuttered while wiping herself down, disgusted at the thought of being in the same place that rats potentially nested in.
Unsure exactly how she was going to clean herself off, Astrid reluctantly set that dilemma aside for later as she considered her next course of action. She obviously could not stay, otherwise she would inevitably be found, and she would rather not find out what the consequences would be.
Carefully tiptoeing her way to the door left open by the stranger, Astrid cautiously peeked outside to observe what was going on. The moment that Astrid stepped into one of the shafts of light a strange feeling beset her. It was as though in an instant everything had taken on an uncomfortable quality as the light increased to almost blinding levels of brightness. It felt to the girl as though she were pressed in from all sides. She could hardly see, and her skin felt like it was being squeezed. She tried to move, but her attempts felt sluggish at best, like she were swimming more than walking, and before Astrid could wonder for much longer what was going on, she began to feel rather ill.
“What the heck?” she said, very much alarmed at the sudden and inexplicable sensation, and she retreated as quickly as she could out of the light and back into the shadows of the train car. The moment she did the feeling faded just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her confused and more than a little apprehensive at what just happened.
Although she was hesitant to try and repeat the occurrence, Astrid’s curiosity eventually made her brave enough to raise her arm and slowly move it into the sunlight once more, until it shone down on her small hand, and what she saw next left her with more questions than answers. Her hand seemed to disappear almost completely in the light, leaving only a faint outline. Again, the odd feeling returned, though this time it only affected her exposed hand.
“What in the world?” Astrid whispered softly, retracting her arm and flexing her fingers. They felt fine, but having seen them reduced to a mere silhouette did more than unnerve her, as she could only conclude that the rest of her body had been similarly affected. Astrid highly doubted this would be the last time she would be left wondering what exactly she had been turned into.
She didn’t really want to dwell on it too long, remembering her curiosity at what was happening outside. Risking blindness a second time, Astrid once more peeked outside the train car, shading her eyes with her arm. It took a long while and a good amount of squinting before her eyes adjusted enough to the brightness that Astrid could actually see what was going on, and what she saw offered her only more confusion.
“What the?” she muttered, completely dumbfounded at the sight of a bustling throng of what appeared to be horses trotting about. At least they resembled horses, at least in terms of body shape, but aside from that there were quite a few notable differences that stood out quite profusely to Astrid. The first among these differences were that many of them seemed to have been drenched in brightly colored paint. Most were either pushing or carrying wooden crates about across the train platform, putting in stacks or placing them in waiting wagons and carts. A few of the ponies even appeared to be wearing clothing ranging from work vests to hats with unidentifiable logos on them.
All of this on its own would have been more than enough to unnerve Astrid, but the fact that most of them were actually talking was when she started to wonder if she had eaten something funny earlier.
Blinking rapidly, Astrid glanced around at the surrounding area as dozens of the horse creatures milled about, and was summarily rendered breathless at the sight of towers of gleaming white marble.
Before long the brightness became too much for Astrid to bear, forcing her to retreat once more into the train car to recover, as well to try and process what she had just seen. “What is going on here?” she questioned aloud, wanting to believe that she was only dreaming. Another glance outside confirmed that this was not the case. It was all very real, as absurd as the circumstances may be.
“Okay, okay, calm down Astrid. Just. . . calm down.” Despite her attempts to retain her sense of composure, Astrid already felt herself failing miserably to keep herself from freaking out. She sat down, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Everything is fine. This is okay. This is okay. I just need to. . . not overreact. It’s not that bad.” She paused for a moment to take a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Positives. Positives. Think of the positives here, okay? Okay. Number one, first positive. . . uh. . .”
Astrid faltered, unsure how she could interpret anything that she had just seen as being positive by any stretch of the imagination. Being taken from her home to a strange place with miniature talking horses seemed much more akin to what she would see in the movies or read in a book. It was one of those situations that she always believed only existed in her imagination, something she would have to be on very hard medication to conjure up. Now that she was seeing it all with her own eyes, at least as much she was able to consider her current form as her own, Astrid felt as though she were about to pass out from the sheer absurdity of it all.
At the moment, all she really had was her health, and even that was an uncertainty.
Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Astrid forced herself to calm down enough that she could come up with some sort of plan on what to do moving forward. She was extremely hesitant to show herself for any reason, as she was very much unsure how these horse creatures would react upon seeing her. Even if she were not reduced to such an unfamiliar body as this Astrid was not sure if they would be pleased to find a stowaway in their presence.
“What choice do I have though?” she questioned aloud. “I can’t just stay in here.”
Taking a deep breath, Astrid summoned up her courage and walked back to the door. Shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight, she vaulted over the edge, landing on the platform with a soft grunt, anticipating to immediately be greeted by shouts of alarm, bracing herself for whatever came next.
No such thing happened however. Cautiously looking around, it soon became clear to Astrid that she had to be noticed by any of the talking ponies. For the most part, they seemed to busy with their own business to pay much attention to the small creature that just hopped out of the train car.
“Okay then,” she said, not sure if she wanted to be relieved or off-put by the lack of mass hysteria she was sure she would have caused. Briefly she considered going up to one of them to ask if they would be able to offer her some assistance. She decided against it however, instead focusing her attention on finding something to mitigate the brightness of the sun. She didn’t fancy walking around with her hand over eyes the whole time she was stuck like this. Best to remain as out of the way as possible until then, she reasoned.
Stumbling around to a section of the platform that seemed to be less busy, Astrid had difficulty in discerning much of anything. Rendered practically blind by the sunlight, she walked with her hands out in front to ensure she did not accidentally bump into something or someone. This unfortunately did nothing to keep her from tripping over a discarded piece of tarp.
“Oh come on! Can’t I catch a break!” Astrid grumbled with her hand over her nose, massaging the fresh bruise on her face. Recovering from her fall, Astrid kicked at the tarp that had tripped her up. She was about to walk away in a huff, before coming to a stop as she realized that it could serve her.
Scooping it up in her arms, Astrid threw the tarp over her head and wrapping it around her small frame, effectively shielding her from the sunlight while still allowing her some modicum of visibility. It was a little big for her, as the “hem” of her makeshift cloak would drag on the floor wherever she went, but for the moment it would suffice. Just when she started to wonder where she was going to go and what was going to do next, the distinct clip-clop of approaching hoofsteps caught her attention, sending a jolt of fear into her as she quickly ducked behind a nearby crate, a picture of a smiling mare with a bundle of cherries in her hoof plastered onto its side.
“Did anypony else see that?” a feminine voice asked.
The question was soon answered with, “Oh, not you too Nano Breeze. I already went through this with Pen Mark. I swear, if you two are trying to pull another fast one on me. . .”
“What? No of course not. . . not this time at least,” the one identified as Nano Breeze replied. Against her better judgement, Astrid carefully poked her head around the crate. She caught sight of two ponies, one a bluish-grey stallion and the other a mare with jade colored fur. Until that moment when Astrid laid eyes upon them, she didn’t think anything else could surprise her, but found herself rendered completely dumbfounded when she spotted a pair of feathery wings sprouting from Nano Breeze’s shoulders.
A pegasus. She was looking at a real live, honest to goodness pegasus. So enamored was she by the notion of a mythical creature actually existing and talking that Astrid did not realize that she had been discovered until after Nano Breeze pointed a foreleg directly at her and said, “Over there!”
The grey stallion looked, quickly donning an almost disgusted expression upon seeing Astrid. “What in the. . ! What is that thing!?”
Recoiling at the harshness of the stallions’ tone, fear took hold of her completely as she rushed away.
“No, wait a minute! Come back!” Nano Breeze exclaimed, hurrying over to where the creature was hiding, hoping to catch it before it could get away.
She was too late however, as the little creature jumped off the platform, crying in some odd language as it ran off into the streets, disappearing from sight. Spreading her wings, Nano Breeze flew up a little bit, trying to catch sight of where it had gone. Her efforts were in vain however, and she let out a sigh of disappointment. No doubt the creature had run off to hide in an alleyway.
Returning to the platform, she shot her supervisor, Crisp Heart, a strong look that did little to conceal how she currently felt about him at that very moment.
“What was that for?!” she demanded as she got right up in the stallions muzzle. “You didn’t have to do that! Now she’s off and ran away because of you!”
Flustered by her attitude, Crisp Heart retorted heatedly, “You think I care about that? I have a job to do here, and that does not entail chasing after whatever weird critters you happen to find.” Turning around, Crisp said over his shoulder, “Now come on, get back to back to work. That thing might have contaminated some of the shipments, and if that’s the case then it’s on your head, and your paycheck.”
Sighing, Nano Breeze had to suppress the urge to strangle her boss as she watched him go. She glanced back in the direction where the odd creature had run off to. She didn’t see it too clearly, but she remembering all too clearly the expression of terror and confusion in its eyes when it looked at her before it fled. Deep in her heart, she wondered if it would be okay.
Trying to shake off the feeling, Nano refocused her attention on her job, and promptly got back to work.
Sprinting away as fast as her little legs could carry her, Astrid dared not look back to see if those two ponies were chasing after until after she was safely hidden from sight and out of the sun in a dim, narrow backstreet, curled up beside an old trashcan. Panting heavily, she stifled the urge to cry from, knowing that it would nothing to help her now.
“What is going here?!” Astrid questioned aloud as her brain did flip-flops. “Okay, I have to be dreaming now. There’s no other way. Pegasus or unicorns or whatever don’t exist. It’s just not possible. Yeah, that’s it. I’m just dreaming.”
Almost as if on cue the sound of a door opening drew her attention. She looked to her left to find a yellow pony with a single spiral horn on his head. The unicorn whistled a jaunty tune as a bag of trash floated beside him, enveloped in a bluish aura. A similar aura surrounded his horn. The unicorn took no notice of her as he continued whistling, before depositing the bag into a nearby trashcan, upon which he then trotted back inside, leaving Astrid staring blankly after him.
Astrid proceeded to groan audibly, covering her face with her hands while she slumped down as far as possible. “Right then. Not a dream,” she grumbled, as the reality that she was about as far from her home as illogically possible set in.
Unable to keep her grief and ire at the situation tempered any longer, Astrid yelled, not caring who or what heard her as she stood up and kicked at the trash can, knocking it over and spilling its contents all over the pavement.
Picking up a piece of discarded wood, she proceeded to beat on the trashcan with wild abandon, yelling obscenities as she throttled the thing, as though doing so would somehow beat some semblance of familiarity and control back into her life.
“Why?!” she screamed. “Why would you do this to me?!”
Nothing was right. None of this was right, and Astrid hammered that point into every dent she made, losing herself to her anger and frustration as hot tears flowed from her eyes even after the wood began to crack until it finally snapped in half, which only served to further enrage her.
Throwing the now useless block of splinters at the wall with all her might, Astrid’s fury and grief only continued to heighten.
“How could you do this to me Dad?!” Astrid demanded, resorting to striking at the trashcan with her bare hands now, not caring about the bruises she was accumulating on her fingers even when they started to bleed profusely.
“How could you do this?!”
Another blow, another dent in the metal, as well as another wound.
“To me?!“ She yelled bringing both hands up to bring them on the metal, clenching her eyes.
“To your own daughter!”
Her hands impacted on the metal, the act of which was followed the sound of galvanized iron crumpling.
Breathing heavily from her exertions, Astrid’s limbs were shaking from both raw emotion and her own physical stress.
She was quickly snapped out of her enraged daze when she realized something very odd about what just occurred. Firstly, that the trashcan was now reduced to something more akin to a crushed soda can. Second was the thick orange limb that pulsed very visibly in the shaded alleyway with a fiery light, ending in a monstrous fist.
Startled by the sight of the limb, Astrid jumped back with a frightened yelp, only to for it to follow after her. Just as she was about to look up to see what sort of malevolent creature it belonged to, the limb suddenly seemed to lose all its solidity as it went limp, scattering into lose strands of orange thread that fell over Astrid’s face, blinding her and causing her to fall backward onto her rear.
Sputtering from the mass of follicles that were smothering her, Astrid pushed it aside, thoroughly confused at what just happened.
“Was. . . was that me?” she questioned as she lifted her hair away from her face, gazing at it in a mixture of wonder and fright. “But. . . how did. . . what is. . ?” she stuttered, unable to properly word her bewilderment.
Before Astrid could even begin to even try and understand what she just did, she was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, jolting her out of her puzzlement into looking towards the entrance of the alleyway, where a cream coated unicorn mare with saddlebags full of groceries looked on with wide eyes.
For a moment nothing happened as the two stared at each other, until a sheepish grin crossed Astrid’s reddening face. “Uh, heh heh, oops,” she muttered, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of herself. Her embarrassment was reciprocated by the mare cautiously backing away, never once breaking eye contact until she was well out of the girls’ sight.
Astrid waited for a few moments before scooping up her hair and sprinting away, deciding that she would rather not risk the possibility of the mare returning with friends. The last thing she needed right now was to be the center of attention.
Hoping that she was not being followed by anyone or anything, Astrid soon found a narrow alcove that seemed to serve no other purpose than for old, unwanted refuse to be dumped, completely hidden from the view of searching eyes, where she collapsed onto the hard pavement with her back pressed up against the wall to catch her breath. The day had only just begun for her, and already both physically and mentally drained.
With nothing better for her to do, Astrid began to analyze her hair, trying to determine what had made it morph into an arm of all things. Aside from the vibrant color however there was nothing she could find that differentiated it from her normal hair, and after minutes of pulling on it, twisting it or even trying to replicate what happened she eventually gave up, choosing instead to save it for later when she did not feel quite so broken.
Returning to her slumped position, Astrid curled in on herself, pulling the tarp over herself until she was completely enveloped, as though doing so would ward away the ache in her heart.
She did not cry. She had not have the energy for it anymore. Instead, Astrid fell into a fitful, uneasy sleep, wishing to go back home.
Author's Note
Welcome back everyone to the third(?) chapter of my story. I hope that you enjoyed reading this. Given how short and uneventful this one is compared to others, I may end up deciding to release the next one a bit sooner than normal.
Astrid sat at the dinner table, absentmindedly picking at her food as she wondered when her father was going to come home. It had been ages now, and the layers dust that collected on the table only continued to grow thicker with every momentary eternity that passed.
A harsh knock at the door broke Astrid out of her state of passive inattention.
She waited for the knock to eventually go away, but it never did as the sound continued to echo through the house like a death knell, chilling her blood and sending her heart into a rapid frenzy, beating perfectly in time with every dull blow against the door.
She should not answer it. She did not want to answer it, but Astrid had no control over herself as her legs moved of their own accord, bring her away from the table in spite of her fear; she already knew what was going to happen.
She fought against herself, against her own body, but it was to no avail as she found herself standing before the door, her shaking hand reaching for the handle, all while the pounding continued to sound off from the other side.
The pounding stopped, replaced by a hollow silence.
A dark presence loomed before Astrid, hovering outside the door amidst a sea of darkness. It had no face.
No eyes.
No mouth.
Nothing.
Yet still it spoke.
The words it uttered were odd and indecipherable to Astrid, speaking to her in a quiet, alluring voice. It presented something to her, an object that was as alien to her as the presence itself, yet all too familiar at the same time.
A piece, a fragment of a greater whole, covered in markings and staring at her eternally with a single, unblinking eye. Astrid knew what it desired from her, and she wanted no part of it. She could hear her own mind screaming for her to turn around and flee. Everything in her body urged her to run, to hide somewhere she could not be found.
She did no such thing however. Instead she could only watch helplessly as her hand slowly extended towards the fragment.
Her fingers brushed against its surface, sending a rush of frigid agony racing up her arm as everything went dark.
Astrid awoke with a harsh scream, clawing at the tarp covering her, struggling to get it off as she flailed and scratched at imaginary shadows, until finally she was able to throw it aside and breathe, hyperventilating as images of her nightmare continued to plague her thoughts.
It was only after she was able to catch her breath that she realized that the nightmare had been just that, and she forced herself to calm down. Before long, her heart rate slowed down to the point where it did not feel as though it were trying to pummel its way out of her chest, and Astrid stood up to retrieve the tarp, whereupon she returned to her original position; hunched over and longing for the real nightmare to end.
Her longing was answered by a rather severe ache in the back of her neck, acquired from her unconventional position as she had slept. Yet another thing to add to growing list of misfortunes, right under the fact that she was still lost, still stuck in an alien form, and still left with no clue on how to get back home.
The chatter of distant voices reached Astrid’s ears, causing them to twitch in response and exacerbating the headache that she had woken up with to an almost unbearable degree. She wished for nothing more than for it all to just go away. Her desire for rest was curbed though, as it seemed even her own body was working against as a low groan emanated from her stomach. It was only then she realized how long it must have been since she had last eaten. It felt so long ago since her birthday party, since she had a place of her own, with nothing to worry about other than her grades.
It had only been a day, if that, and already everything felt more like a distant memory, haunting her thoughts and tormenting her with the promise of never being able to go back. She did not even have anything on hand to eat, which led her to wonder how she was going to be able to survive the next few days, if that.
She had to find something to eat, and soon. Yet Astrid’s fear of what those pony creatures would do if she she showed herself caused her to hesitate, trying to decide if asking for food from them would even be an option for her. Her first real encounter with them at the train platform had not left a particularly good impression on her.
Another hungry growl sounded off, forcing Astrid to put aside her trepidation as she stood up, attempting to convince herself that perhaps not all of them were like that as she made her way out of the backstreet, skirting around broken bottles and other discarded detritus.
Before long Astrid retraced her steps to where she had originally entered the backstreet, glancing around to make sure it was safe for her to go out. The sun had moved a bit since, indicating that it was now sometime in the late afternoon, steadily making the transition into the early evening.
A few of the pony creatures could be seen trotting about, chatting with each other and generally just going about their business, and Astrid watched in a mix of curiosity and concern as they went past, careful to stay hidden in the shadows of the alleyway. She noticed that a fair number of them seemed to be carrying saddlebags filled with various vegetables and other food items. Seeing them only made Astrid’s hunger feel that much more severe as she eyed them longingly, wondering if she would be able to perhaps ask for some.
Her chance came when she noticed a pair of ponies, one a green tinted stallion and the other a reddish mare with swirly orange mane, trotting down the sidewalk towards her. While the odd coloration of their fur perplexed Astrid, the thing that she was most interested in at the moment was the saddlebag full of groceries and other assorted products upon their backs. They had yet to take notice of her as they chatted with each other.
“So, what’d you think? Did you like the show?” the mare questioned, a bright smile adorning her muzzle.
The stallion responded unenthusiastically, “Eh, she was alright, I guess. I couldn’t really get into it though, she just seemed a bit high on herself, you know? Always referring to herself in the third pony.”
As they drew closer, Astrid was tempted to just hide until they passed her by. She stifled her urge to hide as she drew in series of breaths to steady her nervous heart, attempting to convince herself that she had no reason to believe they would harm her just for talking to them. Once she was sufficiently emboldened, Astrid stepped out of the alleyway, braving the overbearing sunlight and standing firmly in their path.
“Yeah, I know what you mean by that,” the mare answered. “Still I think it’s quite nice to oh sweet Celestia!” she exclaimed upon finally noticing the girl standing before them, immediately coming to complete stop. The stallion was equally caught off guard, and he responded by placing himself slightly in front of the mare.
Their reaction caused Astrid to recoil, fearful of the repercussions. She forced herself to remain in place despite the fact she wanted nothing more than to dive back into the alleyway. She cleared her throat, trying to put on a brave front that came off as more of an awkward cough than anything else, and she asked in the most pleasant tone she could muster through her quivering voice, “E-excuse me, um, do you think it’s alright if I can h-have some?”
She patiently waited for a response, hoping that the two would be willing to grant her request, but they only stared at her in a cautious curiosity, glancing at each other in question. Not taking her eyes off Astrid, the mare asked her companion in a strained whisper, “Uh, Quartz? Did you happen to catch any of that?”
“Uh-uh,” the stallion, now identified as Quartz responded along with a shake of his head.
Believing that they had simply not heard her, Astrid cleared her throat and repeated her request, accompanying it with a gesture to the contents of their bags, making it clear what she wanted from them.
“Do you think it’s somepony’s pet?” the mare questioned. Astrid blinked upon hearing that, feeling slightly offended at the proposition.
She was further offended when Quartz responded, looking at her a bit more closely, “I don’t know. It looks more like some sort of weird raccoon or something to me.”
At this point Astrid’s mood had moved beyond merely being offended to being outright enraged by the comparison to a neighborhood pest, and she narrowed her eyes in anger. “Do I look like a raccoon to you?!” she shot at them, removing the tarp covering her head, too fed up to really care about the blinding sunlight.
When her vision adjusted as much as it could, she was met with expressions of absolute shock and terror as the two ponies recoiled as though they had just seen a ghost, and they steadily began to back away. The mare, now hiding fully behind her companion, said in a clearly nervous tone, “Uh, Quartz? How about we take the long way home?”
“Agreed,” was Quartz’ only answer, and the two frightened ponies had now broken into a swift trot away from Astrid, leaving the girl alone and wondering what had just happened. A few onlookers who had noticed the commotion were now gazing at her warily, some quietly speaking to each other as they cautiously trotted by, prompting Astrid to retreat back into the alleyway before they started calling for animal control or something.
“What was that all about?” she asked herself once she was safely out of sight. She glanced down at herself, admitting that while she was odd looking she was not exactly what one would define as threatening. Yet somehow, she had frightened both of those ponies into running away from her like the devil was on their tail. She realized that they had only done so after she had removed the tarp from her head, making her wonder if there was something about her face that frightened them. She did not have a mirror or any sort of reflective surface on hand, so at the moment it was only a thought. Even so, it was enough to convince Astrid to keep herself concealed for the foreseeable future.
It did nothing to help her solve the growing issue of her hunger however, as another growl from her stomach reminded her why she had shown herself in the first place. She pondered begging again, but if the reactions she had garnered thus far were anything to go by, then it seemed that there was only one other way for Astrid to put food in her belly. She found the idea distasteful, but certainly less so than the prospect of starving to death.
Poking her head around the corner again, Astrid looked in the direction the two ponies had come from. All the food they had in their saddlebags came from somewhere, and her hunger drove her to creep out of her hiding place and find exactly where all that food was coming from.
The deeper she ventured into the city, the more that Astrid noticed how much more densely populated it had become. However, instead of making it so that she was noticed by everything, the crowd helped to hide her from view, resulting in less of the ponies paying her any more attention than a curious glance before trotting away. At first Astrid was worried about staying hidden, but at least this way she was not as likely to be singled out. Still, she made sure to keep as much distance as she could and to stay as close to walls as possible to avoid too much scrutiny. Along the way, she could not help but take notice of the markings that adorned their flanks. They seemed to not carry much meaning, depicting anything from a paintbrush to a trio of flowers. Unsure what to make of the observation, Astrid chose to pay it no mind, focusing instead on her current objective.
At least with the sun going down, her eyes did not feel the sting of its light as badly. She could actually see somewhat clearly, which was a welcome change.
Eventually Astrid found herself in a large open plaza that was dominated by an intricately designed fountain that depicted a great many ponies of all types, and at the very top was a spherical carving that reminded her very much of the sun with a single tall mare, possessing both horn and wings, holding it aloft with her feathery limbs. All around the fountain were huge crowds of ponies, and it did not take Astrid long to determine why they were all gathered here as she spotted multiple stands and booths selling various types of food items. Circling the fountain and spreading outward in a starburst pattern each stall and booth held on their racks and shelves every kind of morsel imaginable; fruits, vegetables, blocks of cheese the size of her head, fancy looking loaves of bread of all kinds, and in that moment it looked like heaven in Astrid’s eyes. Among their number there were a plethora of other tents and small shops that sold other types of trinkets and items other than food, but those were not important to her. Her attention was focused entirely on the ones with food, and she had to close her mouth to keep herself from salivating as the enticing aromas of various flavors and spices tickled her nose, promising her a full belly.
All she had to do was get it, which was where complications reared their ugly head. Glancing around, it seemed that ponies were beginning to finish up their shopping as they trotted away from the stands and carts to their homes. A few of the vendors had already closed up shop for the day as the sun continued to sink lower in the sky, disappearing behind the tall alabaster buildings. Astrid pondered waiting until they were all done to make her move, but her starvation was too much to for her to bear as it drove her to take the risk and walk forward into the crowd, wondering and hoping that any ponies that noticed her would mistake her for a foal at first glance.
Making her way forward, the smell of food only became stronger, and it was all Astrid could do to keep herself from just running up and grabbing whatever she could get her arms around and running away. That was the fastest way to get herself caught, and that was something Astrid wanting to avoid at all costs.
Resisting the urgings of her stomach, at least momentarily, Astrid cautiously made her way to the nearest food cart laden with mounds of apples. As enticing as it initially was, Astrid wanted something a bit more than standard fruits and vegetables. She wanted something filling, preferably cooked beforehand, perhaps even with a bit of light seasoning to provide it that little bit of extra flavor she craved. Deducing from the smells wafting her way that such treats would be closer to the center of the gathering, Astrid glanced around to ensure no one was currently watching before diving underneath the cart, hiding behind the wheels and crawling her way forward. Rolling from cart to booth to stand Astrid made her way forward in this manner, until she finally made it to one that seemed promising, a simple push cart that held a collection of delicately prepared sandwiches and wraps. Even better, it seemed to be momentarily unattended as its owner, a thin looking stallion in a striped uniform, was busy conversing with a mare. He seemed to be flirting with the mare, judging by the way she was giggling and covering her mouth with a free hoof. Whatever he was saying to her, she seemed quite flattered, which was just fine with Astrid as it provided the distraction she needed. Sidling up so that her back was against the cart, Astrid double checked her surroundings one last time, then snapped up as many sandwiches as she could get her hands around before dashing away to hide beneath a table, concealed by the cloth draped across it.
Stopping only to make sure that she had not been caught, Astrid opened her mouth to cram as much of her prize as possible in.
A moment later, she realized that something did not feel quite right, and she stopped chewing to lift up the bread on one of the sandwiches. In it, she founds bits of dandelions and pieces of straw. Aside from that, there was not much else other than a soggy tomato and the bread itself, and Astrid spat the bits of plant matter out of her mouth in disgust.
“They’re horses, of course they would eat weeds and such,” she muttered angrily, picking out whatever inedible bits she could, leaving only a few mouthfuls of bread and tomatoes; hardly enough to offer any lasting sustenance. She needed more, and now that she had already pilfered some food it was much more likely for her to get caught if she tried to have a second go. A brief look back at the cart confirmed this as the stallion had returned to his station, appearing quite flummoxed at what happened to his beloved sandwiches.
Making her getaway before he could start looking for the culprit, Astrid snuck her way further into the throng, hoping to uncover something she could actually stomach. Letting her nose guide her, Astrid soon came across what appeared to be a burrito stand, with its racks filled to the brim with all sorts of wraps, chimichangas and the like. It also seemed to be pretty popular at the moment as well, as a long line of ponies had gathered before it, eagerly awaiting their turn to be served as the vendor worked frantically to meet the demands of his customers.
As risky as it obviously was to even try and have a go at obtaining some for herself, Astrid was unable to quell her temptation as she stealthily made her way to the stand, already puzzling out how she was going obtain the morsels. Maybe there was a back door or something she could use. Just when she was few yards away from her target she felt something tug on her tarp.
“’Scuse me little filly, are you lost?” a voice questioned as its owner pulled her around to face a pink coated mare with a downy mane. Immediately Astrid’s heart leapt to her as she made eye contact with the mare, fearing being taken away. However, the moment their eyes met the mare seemed to flinch in alarm, and she immediately retracted her hoof away from Astrid before swiftly trotting away.
Afraid of what might happen if the mare returned, Astrid forgot about the food as she ran off, shouldering her way through the crowd, having lost her sense of direction as she searched desperately for an escape. Just then the blast of multiple trumpets echoed throughout the plaza, drowning out everything as Astrid covered her ears, deafened by the cacophony.
“Hear ye, hear ye! Come everypony, and see the most amazing performance of your lives!” a voice shouted, amplified by some strange power that somehow made it seem even louder than the trumpets as everyone’s attention, including Astrid’s, was drawn to the center of the plaza where, parked right in front of the fountain, was a large carriage that Astrid could have sworn had not been there before. The carriage was heavily decorated with stars and banners depicting a wand with a star at its tip. Curiosity taking hold, many ponies began to steadily make their way over, gathering around the carriage. Try as she might to make her getaway, Astrid was helpless to much as she was swept up in the crowd, unable to shoulder her ways past due to her small stature, and she did not fancy getting trampled underhoof. Keeping a lookout for any possible route she could take, Astrid caught brief glimpses as the side of the wagon rapidly unfolded into a medium sized stage as a flurry of cheap firework buzzed overhead.
The voice rang out again. “Yes! That’s it! Come closer dear viewers, and prepare yourselves to be amazed by none other than . . .” The speaker paused for dramatic effect as clouds of white smoke billowed around the stage, and within moments a flash pink light burst forth as a bright blue unicorn dressed in a purple cape and hat appeared. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!” the unicorn shouted as more fireworks flew, adding a dramatic effect to her words.
The response provided did not at all match up to the introduction, as only a few ponies stamped their hooves on the pavement, and even then, it seemed to be more out of pity than actual excitement for the oncoming performance. Clearly disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm, Trixie cleared her throat as she proceeded to straighten her cape and hat.
“The Great and Powerful Trixie sees that she must convince you to be impressed. Well, have no fear my dear audience, for Trixie shall bestow upon you the greatest performance you have seen and regale you with feats of magic so magnificent that you won’t believe your eyes! Behold!”
With a flourish of her cape, Trixie disappeared in a flash of light, only to reappear once more atop the top of the stage with a freshly conjured set of bronze rings. Floating through the air in an aura of pink, Trixie proceeded to do a dive, her cape taking the form of large wings as she soared through the rings as they rearranged themselves in all sorts of odd formations for her to navigate through as she dove and ascended and corkscrewed at high speed. Even as she did this, the rings themselves flashed with a multitude of colors, leaving a mesmerizing effect in the air as they twirled. While most of the crowd seemed to be only mildly impressed by the display, Astrid personally was quite enamored with it, almost forgetting her current predicament. As curious as she was to stick around and watch the rest of the performance, she had to leave as soon as possible before that mare returned. Seeing a gap in the crowd, she quickly rushed over, earning a few curious glances her way. When she had extricated herself from the main body of the gathering, she spotted the street she had come down and started to make a beeline for it.
She was stopped in her tracks when she noticed the small food cart filled to the brim with exotic looking breads, seemingly free of any flowers or grass. After quickly checking to make sure no one was paying attention to her, she seized her opportunity and grabbed as many loaves as she could get her arms around while the ponies were mostly distracted. Just as she was about to finally get away with her prize, she was stopped in her tracks when the thing she feared most occurred as the mare from before came into view just a few yards in front of her, with a stocky looking Pegasus stallion dressed in golden armor trailing behind.
“Oh no,” Astrid muttered in a terrified breath. Before she could do anything the mare spotted her and pointed her out to the armored stallion. Due to the commotion of the crowd Astrid was unable to hear what was said, but she could hazard a guess as the stallion narrowed his eyes at her; she imagined she must not have looked that good at that moment, especially considering she was carrying an arm full of unpaid for bread loaves. Shouldering his way through the mass of ponies between them he steadily began to march toward Astrid. Refusing to let herself be caught, Astrid proceeded to dash back into the crowd toward Trixie’s performance, hoping the commotion would be enough to allow her to escape. Her heart sank when she glanced behind, only to find that the armored stallion had taken flight, allowing him an advantage to spot her from on high.
She had to hide! She had to hide, to get away. Fear of capture permeated her mind, fear of torture, of imprisonment for the crime of being different. So profound was her terror of being caught that Astrid actually let go of the food in her arms as she dove low to the ground, crawling on her hands and knees toward the fountain, where she hoped she could avoid the armored stallions searching gaze.
She stopped when she bumped into the stone walls of the fountain. Frantically she looked to her left and right for an alternative route. She then noticed Trixie’s carriage, the back door left open. Seeing no other option of hiding herself, Astrid hurried over, careful to avoid being spotted by the stallion as she clambered inside, huddling close to whatever she could find. After a few moments of trying to calm her racing heart she risked a cautious glance outside. As far as she could tell, no one had seen her sneak in, but she was too afraid to do anything but stay there. She hoped that after a while her pursuer would give up the chase, allowing her to escape. She could still see him flying above, still searching for her. She noticed that he was no longer alone either as two more pegasi, also dressed in golden armor, had now joined him in his search.
“Great. Just what I needed right now,” Astrid muttered, her sarcasm tempered by her racing thoughts and heart. She slumped to the wooden floor of the carriage, feeling as though she were about to vomit from the amount of anxiety she was experiencing, so much so she had to keep her mouth firmly closed to avoid losing what little food she had in her stomach.
Outside, the crowd seemed to be growing more excited by the performance, assorted oohs and ahs being heard as Trixie’s show went on. In the back of her mind, Astrid wondered what other sort of acts the mare was performing, but her curiosity was overridden, smothered by the fear of what may happen if she were discovered. Every time she thought about it, the memory of those two ponies initially confusing her for some sort of animal made its way to front of her mind, as well as their reactions when they saw her without her hood.
The thought rekindled her desire to find out what she really looked like, wondering if there really was something about her appearance that frightened the ponies so much.
As it just so happened, in the corner of her eye Astrid saw a small vanity mirror set next to a messy cot, both of which were surrounded by mounds of papers as well as a plethora of items and supplies dedicated to the sole purpose of keeping up one's appearance. It was also laced with multiple pictures and photographs of Trixie in various poses, all signed with what Astrid assumed to be her name in graceful caricature.
Astrid picked herself up with a weary grunt. Even as she ambled towards the mirror, she was uncertain if she really wanted to know the truth behind what made her so unseemly to the ponies; shaking off her trepidation, she clambered up onto the stool, having to almost climb on top off of the desk just to get a good look at herself. In the process she accidentally knocked over a stack of papers, revealing them to be what passed for parking tickets in this world with bold red lettering stamped onto them. Astrid reminded herself to pick it up later, when the coast was clear and she could safely leave.
Standing on the stool, Astrid peered over the edge of the desk into the reflective surface of the mirror. As she suspected, much about her had changed in ways that almost rendered unrecognizable as anything human, transforming her into some sort of imp-like creature. The basic features were still there; she had a nose, mouth, ears, but they were all so distorted, looking either too large or too small for her compact form. She would not go so far as to call herself ugly. If anything, Astrid could almost say that she looked cute in weird way, as unsettling as it was to look at her reflection and not see her own face. That would take some getting used to.
Her eyes, however. . .
Large, almond shaped orbs that glinted like infected jewels in the dim light of the carriage.
And red.
Red like the deepest shade of blood, ringed by sclera tinted a sickly shade of yellow, reflecting the light in way that made it seem like something were writhing just beneath their surface with every minute movement she made. Staring at herself like this, her mouth opened slightly in shock.
Tentatively, she lifted her hand to her chest, gripping her necklace for comfort as she took in her appearance, understanding now why every one of those ponies that had seen her had been so unsettled. What else but ill intent could come from a creature bearing eyes such as these?
Without thinking, Astrid reached her hand up to touch the mirrors surface, her pointed fingers brushing against the eyes of her reflection, feeling herself drawn to them like a moth would to a flame, only to be burned alive by the crimson orbs staring back at her.
Astrid tore her gaze away, clenching her eyes as she took a step backwards to put as much distance between herself and the thing in the mirror as possible. Instantly she became aware of her mistake as she fell backward off the stool; she could do nothing to stop her fall as she impacted on the floor with a hard thud that sent a jolt of pain up through her body.
Dazed from the fall, Astrid rolled over onto her side.
They heard.
They had to have heard.
They were coming for her, she had to get away before they took her.
Astrid stood up, swaying a little as she staggered to where she had entered the carriage. She prepared herself to run, but was stopped when she saw a grim faced blue coated stallion in golden armor trot into view, looking for her.
Astrid halted immediately, fear overriding her every sense as she staggered backwards, farther into the shadows of the carriage, hoping desperately that she could hide before he turned his head and spotted her. Unable to think of anywhere else to go, she laid herself down and crawled underneath the cot.
To her dismay, the stallion seemed to have heard the ruckus she was making, his ears flicking in her direction. He glanced over just as Astrid pulled herself under the cot, feeling as though her heart were about to burst its way out of her chest, and she cupped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from making any noise at all. She began to cry when the stallion began to approach the carriage, whimpering softly with every step he took.
They were going to find her.
She was going to die.
“Excuse me, you dolt!”
Astrid was just as startled by the sudden outburst as the stallion apparently was, and she almost let out a yelp of fright. Somehow she managed to keep the hand over her mouth as another pony entered her field of view. Astrid instantly recognized her as the showmare Trixie, although she was not sure if that was better or worse at the moment.
“What do you think you are doing?!” Trixie demanded, appearing to be highly indignant as the stallion stammered out his own.
“Uh well, ahem, you see miss, we were called to investigate a disturbance of a sort, and we think it may have something to do with-“
“Do you think I care?!” Trixie interrupted, getting right up in the stallions’ face. “Honestly, this is why the Royal Guard is such a joke to most ponies nowadays. Do you really think you can just waltz into Trixie’s carriage, my carriage, just like that?”
Astrid watched, both anxiously and with a mild amount of interest, as Trixie berated the stallion while he struggled to come up with a response of any kind. “I don’t think you understand, miss-“
“Trixie!” she interjected. “Address me by name or don’t address me at all.”
Sighing deeply, the stallion continued as though he were already at the limits of his patience. “Miss Trixie, there is a matter of grave concern that has been brought to the attention of the Royal Guard regarding a possibly dangerous creature, and as such we are required to search every area of the premises until we locate the cause of the disturbance.”
Astrid hazarded a guess that he was referring to her and her encounter with that mare from earlier.
“Really?” said Trixie. “And tell me, does that require you to go snooping through other ponies’ things without so much as a warrant?”
“Well, no, but-“
“Then begone, before Trixie deigns to waste the rest of her day by pressing charges.”
Apparently unwilling to press the matter any further, the stallion rolled his eyes at Trixie before trotting away and out of sight. Huffing, Trixie followed suit, leaving Astrid the opportunity she had been waiting for. She waited a few seconds to ensure they were far enough away before she pulled herself from beneath the cot, carefully tiptoeing her way to the carriage door.
Just when she thought she was about to make her escape, Astrid’s ears twitched as the sound of hooves clicking on the pavement approached one more as Trixie returned. Eyes widening in shock, Astrid darted to the side, trying her best to press herself as flat against the wall as possible.
She heard from Trixie as the mare muttered, “I’d better make sure that dolt didn’t mess with anything.” A second later Astrid watched apprehensively as Trixie hopped inside, her hooves producing dull clicks on the wood flooring that made Astrid flinch with every step. Her heart hammering away in her chest, Astrid struggled to keep calm as Trixie moved closer to where she was hiding. She was not as afraid of being harmed by her as she was by what she had referred to as the Royal Guard, but there still no telling what her reaction might be upon discovering an intruder.
Trixie’s horn glowed a shade of bright pink, and a similar aura enveloped that papers that Astrid had unintentionally knocked over, and in moments they floated back up onto the vanity in neat little pile.
“Good thing he didn’t see these,” she mumbled under her breath. Meanwhile, Astrid did her level best to keep as still and silent as she could as she slowly inched toward carriage door, hoping to slink off before Trixie inevitably found her.
Just then, Trixie’s horn lit up a second time, and a brief moment later a small lantern hanging from the roof came alight, bathing the interior in a warm glow that caused Astrid to flinch in mild annoyance.
She froze. Trixie’s eyes were now squarely on her, and Astrid could do nothing but stand there in stupefied horror, knowing that she had been caught.
But then Trixie did something completely unexpected.
The mare trotted past her towards the vanity, seemingly having not seen Astrid at all despite the girl being in clear view. Was she blind or something like that? Clearly not, as Trixie proceeded to become distracted by her reflection in the vanity mirror, apparently finding it quite attractive all of a sudden. Astrid did not believe she was hiding that well either, considering all she was doing at the moment was pressing herself against the wall.
Completely flummoxed by the fact that she was somehow hiding in plain sight, Astrid glanced down at herself.
Her body was gone. Just up and disappeared. All she could see beneath her was wood flooring where her feet should have been. “What the hell?!” She exclaimed alarmedly, before immediately realizing her mistake as Trixie snapped her head in Astrid’s direction.
“Who’s there?!” Trixie demanded. “Show yourself, or else!”
Astrid was very much tempted to do just that by making a run for it. She forced her quivering limbs to remain in place however, refusing to move so much as an inch. The temptation and fear only grew stronger as Trixie approached, her pink eyes narrowed in search of the disturbance. Astrid’s heart skipped a beat when her hoof landed right where she was standing, and for a moment it seemed that the blue mare was staring directly into her eyes.
Just as Astrid’s nerve was about to break, Trixie made a soft “Hmm”, her browed set in a deep furrow as she looked left and right, before hurrying outside of the carriage. “I swear, if you hooligans are vandalizing my carriage again, I’ll tan your hides! Show yourselves, unless you fear the wrath of the great and powerful Trixie!”
Astrid, still reeling from just happened, tried in vain to process. . . well, everything. Again, she looked down at where her body should have been. She moved her arms, attempting to locate her missing torso. She felt her limbs sway, as though she were moving through water, and she took a small step forward. She saw her right foot fade into view a moment later, along with the rest of her body, as she moved to stand directly beneath the lamp. Astrid breathed a sigh of relief at knowing that she had not disintegrated into nothingness, but was still left very much perturbed by what had just occurred, and she glanced behind her in the hoping of finding some sort of clue to her dilemma.
All she saw was a little bit of area where the lamplight did not quite reach, creating a little bit of a shadow on the wall.
Somehow, someway, she had hidden herself in a shadow. Whether or not she wanted to be excited or concerned about that remained to be seen, as Astrid chose to force the issue out of her mind for the time being. She could always deal with it later, but right now she had to get out of here as quickly as possible.
Poking her head out of the carriage, the little girl turned imp checked to make sure that neither Trixie or any Royal Guard ponies were watching before hopping out onto the pavement with a soft grunt, and made a run for the nearest alleyway she could find as a single thought pervaded every facet of her mind, gradually filling it with dread.
What was happening to her?!
The forest was deathly quiet. For miles around, not a single living thing could be heard, all of them having long since fled the scene for fear of their lives. They had sensed the danger, the darkness that was coming. Everything, from the most frail of birds to the mightiest manticore had left in a feverish attempt to escape the shadow that had begun to take hold of the land. Though they did not know the exact nature of it, they knew it was something to be feared, so they fled.
In the center of it all, four out of place objects lay on the ground, abandoned and forgotten by their master.
They spoke to each other with one voice, in words only they knew. There was anger in their voices. Anger and fear and pain. Their goal was clear to them. They needed to get back, but to do that, they needed tools.
But how?
Everything that could be of use had left them. They were alone, left to continue rotting in their unnatural darkness.
As always, they would wait.
Author's Note
Well, wasn't that something of a surprise.
In another life, under different circumstances, Astrid imagined that she would have been borderline thrilled to discover that she had been blessed with supernatural powers. She would have seen it as something to be excited about, to be proud of.
Right now, however, sitting alone and hunched over between a pair of trashcans in a narrow side street, she was unable to see it as anything beneficial. To her, it was just another curse to add to an already lengthy and ever-growing list of reasons to hate the circumstances that had befallen her. To her, it was nothing more than another blow to her morale, broken as that already was, reminding her yet again just how much she had been changed, how much she had lost.
And just how far from home she was.
Her hope seemed to diminish with every passing moment, leaving Astrid with nothing but the desire to be freed from this nightmare. The aspiration of that actually being possible was now barely present, instilling in her the terrifying notion that this was her life now; reduced to nothing more than hiding in fear, scrounging for scraps until she eventually starved to death in the back of some alley, either forgotten or outright ignored by the world she found herself trapped in.
Going home was quickly was quickly devolving from a faint hope into a foolish pipe-dream.
She wrapped her hand around her necklace, looking at it with utter despondence in her eyes.
“Why did you do it?” she asked quietly, expecting no answers. She wanted to say more. She wanted to scream. But all that left her mouth was a mournful keen for what was lost as the very last memory of her father pushed its way to the forefront of her thoughts.
Her mind racing, her thoughts turned to the last time she had seen him. That smile he gave, telling her that everything was going to be alright. That he loved her. How could anyone do this to someone out of love?! The only possible explanation she could come with was that it had something to do with that stranger. That had to be it, there was no other possible alternative. Had he done something to her father, convinced him to get rid of her?
When that thought occurred to her, Astrid froze as she was reminded of something the stranger had said, just before leaving.
Everything that is a distraction must be disposed of. And I do mean everything.
What had he meant by that? And what did it have to do with. . . her. . .
The realization descended upon her like a mountain on her soul. She clutched at her heart, felt as though it were being crushed in a vice grip as she doubled over.
The world around her swayed. She felt sick.
Her hand brushed against her necklace.
Her grief faded, giving way to anger. She ripped the necklace from her throat in a fit of rage before throwing it against the opposite wall of the side street. It clinked against the brick before clattering on the cobblestone pavement. There it sat, glinting in what little light streamed into the side street. She stomped up to it, picked up a loose brick off the ground, and prepared to bring it down on the piece of jewelry, her face contorting into a vengeful snarl at what it represented as hot tears streamed down her cheeks and into her mouth.
She hesitated.
Her arm shook, just one movement away from shattering the necklace into a thousand jagged pieces. She wanted to do it, to crush it into smithereens. All it did was remind her of what her father had done to her.
And yet. . .
She could not do it.
Shaking in a combination of hateful rage, debilitating grief, and mind numbing terror, Astrid threw the brick as hard as she could against the ground, sending bits of it flying as it broke into little crimson chunks. She grasped her hair, felt the pain on her scalp when she pulled.
“Why?!” she cried, not caring if any of those stupid horse things heard. “Why did you do it?! Why did you let this happen?!”
Frantically, Astrid began to think of something, anything that would explain all of this, anything if it meant that her father. . . that he didn’t do this. . . because he was. . .
“No, no that’s not it. That’s not how it is Astrid. You're being stupid, stop thinking about that!” she said out loud, chastising herself for even entertaining the idea of it. And yet, the thought remained, a seed planted in the depths of her mind that gnawed at her incessantly, refusing to leave her mind in peace.
What if?
As of this moment, those two words caused Astrid more pain and heartache than anything else in her life to the point where she could hardly stand anymore as she sat down. What if that was true? What if her father really had done this to her as a way of following the orders of that strange man? If that was indeed the case, how much was she really worth to him? Did he ever love her as he claimed during the final moments she saw him, or was it all some sort of sick lie?
Astrid didn’t know if she could keep living if that were the case.
She had to think of something else, get her mind off such morbid thoughts. Astrid looked up, gazing forlornly at her necklace. She wanted to hate it. She wanted to just leave there on the ground and forget about it, but no matter what, she could not bring herself to do anything more than trudge over to it, whereupon she gingerly picked it up, cradling it in her hands as though it were an injured bird. The little angel gazed back at her, and for a brief moment she imagined it felt the same as she did. Lost and confused.
“I’ll find out,” she said softly to herself, cleaning it off with her thumb before placing it around her neck again. “There has to be more to it than that. He’s not that kind of person.”
As much as she wanted to believe the words coming out of her mouth, uncertainty still lingered in the back of her mind. Additionally, she was not at all certain as to how she even could find out whether her fears were true or not, as that required actually being able to get back home somehow. It was still a pipe dream, but if it was possible for her to tossed into another world, then it was possible to find a way back. At least, that was her reasoning, and it was all she had to keep her going.
At the moment though, she had to begrudgingly to put that goal on the sideline in favor of more immediate priorities, number one among them being finding something to eat. The bits of bread and tomatoes she had been able to scarf down before fleeing had left her severely wanting for more substantial portions, preferably made without straw and daisies. Astrid took a moment to reorient herself. She didn’t quite succeed, but enough to where she could focus on her objective as she set out once more into the streets of the marble city under the cover of the setting sun.
Although extremely hesitant to do so, Astrid returned to the plaza in the hopes that perhaps there was something left for her to scrounge up. Contrasting with the bustling crowd from before, the plaza was now almost completely empty. Nearly all of the stands and carriages had been closed up for the night, with very few being left open for the even fewer ponies still lingering about.
Glancing towards the fountain, Astrid spotted Trixie’s carriage, the stage having been stored away. Even from this distance, Astrid could see a fresh piece of parchment with words written in bold red lettering scrawled across it; a new ticket for the showmare to add to her collection.
Very few ponies were out and about at this time now, denying Astrid the luxury of being able to hide in a crowd, and of the few that still hung around before heading back to their homes, Astrid spotted two ponies in golden armor, one a Pegasus, the other a standard pony, each of them standing near the fountain to keep watch over the area, and she cursed. They could have been there as part of their regular duties, but she had a suspicious hunch that they were there because of her.
They were looking for her, and the thought of what they would do once they found her almost made Astrid decide to just wait until morning.
Her stomach growled, protesting against the idea. She was starving, and she had no way of knowing when she would be able to get another opportunity. She could always go back the way she came, but there was no guarantee she would be able to discover something edible, and she did not fancy dumpster diving as an option in the slightest. Which meant that if she wanted to eat, she had to see if there was a way for her sneak to one of the closed carriages in the hopes that they had something left over for her to scrounge up. As much as Astrid disliked the fact she was reducing herself to rooting through garbage, she rationalized by reminding herself that she had already stolen food. Barring that, there had to at least be leftovers that had been left unfinished, perhaps tossed in a trashcan. At least then it would still be sort of fresh. That wasn’t considered dumpster diving, right?
For argument's sake, Astrid convinced herself it wasn’t.
Which left the question of how she was going to do it without being spotted. Her thoughts flashed back to the incident in the carriage. She could at least try to-
Astrid shook the thought away. As tempting as it seemed to try and replicate the feat. . . in truth she was afraid of it. In addition to the fact that she was not sure what caused her to merge with the shadows like that to begin with, the thought of losing her physical form like that, with no idea how to control it, terrified her beyond words.
Eventually Astrid decided that it was too much of a risk to try and pilfer what she could while those Royal Guard ponies were around. She had to find something else, and she begrudgingly walked back the way she came.
It had been about an hour or so after Astrid had left the plaza behind. Strolling wearily down the sidewalk, completely lost in this maze of building and structures, she seriously began to reconsider going back, if only because she was somewhat familiar with the layout of the area. Here, she had absolutely no bearings, no idea where she currently was. For all she knew she could be on the outskirts, or even at the very center of the city. All the while her stomach continued to churn in grim protest at her plight.
Going back was not an option. She would be found if she went back, she just knew it, and that fear motivated her to continue onward, mindful to stay out of the flickering light of the street lamps. She was not as worried about being spotted out here, she was mostly doing it to avoid hurting her eyes. Even at night, when the sun had long since descending past the horizon and the moon had taken its place, Astrid still found almost every sort of bright light uncomfortable. At least now that it was night, she could finally remove the tarp from over her head. It had long since begun to itch something fierce.
Another hour of amiless wandering passed, the lights in the houses having gone dark as their residents called it in for the night, prompting Astrid to wonder where she was going to lay her head to rest, a distraction that was only slightly less grim than her empty stomach. She supposed she could roll out the tarp into a sort of bed sheet. It would be cold. It was already quite chilly actually; she could practically see her breath in the moonlight. She had to endure it though, even if it meant walking all night.
It was then that she spotted just what she needed. A small little deli set back in a shallow alleyway that, despite its location, stood out quite profusely from its neighbors with its orange walls and floral patterns, vaguely reminding her of some Indian restaurants she had visited in her past life. The most eye-catching part was the elephants’ heads holding a ladle painted above the door. Next to the door was a sign, which she assumed to be the name of the establishment, the words inscrutable to her. Below that was what appeared to be a list of specials. Astrid ran up to the window, peering inside. Curiously, she was able to see perfectly despite it being completely dark inside as she scanned the interior, already wondering what sort of food they might have stored in the kitchen.
Unable to stand the hunger for much longer, Astrid quickly scoured her immediate surroundings for something that she could use to get inside, eventually settling on just picking up a potted plant, hefting it above her head in preparation to send the little ficus flying through the window.
Breathing heavily, both from her exertions as well as anticipation of finally having a decent meal, she readied herself. . .
She stopped.
Her mind settled from its frantic pace, and she dropped the plant, the pot shattering on the cobblestone.
What was she doing? Was she really this desperate that she was willing to break into a restaurant? She may not trust the ponies at all, but when she stopped to think, actually think about it, they were just normal people, at least as normal as Astrid was willing to consider.
And she was about to rob them.
Astrid looked down at her hands. Saw the pointed fingers, saw the glowing marks. Had she really changed so much that her she was willing to commit a crime? When she was little, she had cried for hours because she thought the police were going to put her in jail when she put a doll in the shopping cart without telling her father, and now. . .
She just didn’t know. She didn’t want to do this, but what other choice did she have?
Suddenly feeling more sick than hungry, Astrid turned around to leave.
She froze when she saw the pony that was standing behind her. A unicorn mare with an orangish coat, and a magenta colored puffy mane and tail. She looked at Astrid with wide eyes, clearly not expecting to find an imp before what Astrid assumed was her establishment. A set of keys and a pair of paper bags filled to the brim with groceries floated next her, wrapped in a soft pink glow.
She saw. She had to have seen what Astrid was about to do, and the girl began to back away, fearing punishment. In the back of her mind she reminded herself to avoid making eye contact, as that would only make the situation worse.
“I-I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me, I-I was just so hungry, I wasn’t thinking right-“
“Oh, you poor thing!” The mare said unexpectedly, halting Astrid before she broke down completely. She bent her head low, her eyes full of concern as she slowly stepped towards Astrid. The whole time Astrid continued to look for a possible means of escape. The location of the restaurant meant that she was effectively cornered, her only exit blocked by the mares’ presence.
The mare halted her advance when Astrid continued to back away, seeing very clearly how terrified the girl was. Setting the groceries down, she knelt down, putting herself at eye level with Astrid as she extended a hoof towards her.
“Please, do not be frightened little one,” she said softly, her voice laced with a thick accent. “I am not going to hurt you.”
Astrid eyed the mare suspiciously, glancing at the hoof. She wanted to distrust this pony, to believe that she only meant to do harm for her attempted robbery of her restaurant. But her eyes. . . they held nothing resembling malice or hate like Astrid expected. In them, all Astrid saw was kindness, a heartfelt empathy and concern for the girl that she did not expect to be shown towards her.
Astrid was not sure how to respond, and her indecision kept her from either fleeing from the mare or approaching her.
The mare retracted her hoof, a look of hurt flashing across her muzzle. The expression stung Astrid as well, and she felt guilty for not accepting her kindness. Changing tactics, the mare then said, “I get the feeling that you are hungry. Is that so?”
Astrid paused, then nodded, still making sure to keep eye contact as minimal as possible. So far, this mare was the only one willing to give Astrid the benefit of the doubt, and while that was perhaps Astrid’s own fault for keeping contact with the ponies to a minimum, she did not want to jeopardize it by letting the mare see her eyes.
“I was just coming back from market, getting some groceries for tomorrow. If you like, I could go and make you a little something. Would you like it if I did that, hm?”
Again, Astrid was stunned by the mares offer, and was unsure if she should accept it. Going against her instincts on the faith that the mare was telling her the truth in that she meant Astrid no harm, she gingerly nodded her head a second time. Smiling warmly, the mare stood back up, dusted herself off and said, “In that case, then just give me a few minutes to fix something up for you.”
Her horn giving off a soft pink glow, Astrid watched curiously as the bags of groceries were once again wrapped in a similar aura, and not for the first time she wondered how the phenomenon functioned as the mare trotted past to the front door of the restaurant. With a turn of the keys, she opened the door and stepped inside as the lights inside came on, casting a warm glow through the windows.
Astrid recognized that she had an opportunity to make her escape. What if the mare was lying to her, only wanting to lure Astrid into a false sense of security before springing some sort of trap on her? She shook off such thoughts, identifying her fear as based on unjustified suspicion. As much as her gut told her to run, Astrid chose to remain, reasoning that if she wanted to survive, or even be able to go home, then she was eventually going to have to rely on outside help anyway.
So, Astrid waited, passing the time by kicking at stray pebbles on the ground and twiddling with her hair. About ten minutes after the mare went inside the restaurant she returned, and Astrid immediately took notice of the steaming porcelain bowl hovering next to her. Moving the bowl closer, the mare began to say, “I hope that this is good enough for you. I didn’t have a lot of-“
She was unable to finish her statement before Astrid rushed over and snatched the bowl out of the air, causing her to yelp in surprise. The spoon that had been so generously provided for her went completely ignored as Astrid slurped up the noodle soup eagerly. It tasted like heaven to her as she was finally able to fill her stomach. Not even bothering to savor the taste, she emptied the bowl within a minute, after which she finally took a breath, wiping her mouth with her forearm.
She paused, noticing the bemused expression the mare was giving her, reciprocating it with a sheepish grin. Clearing her throat, she set the bowl gently on the ground in front of the mare, and dipped her head in thanks.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Really, I appreciate your kindness.” Astrid had not meant to sound so formal, but she felt that the occasion called for it. A look of mild confusion appeared on the mares face for a brief moment, causing Astrid to wonder what the matter was. Was it something she had said?
Whatever the case had been, the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and the mare dipped her head in return, retrieving the bowl from the ground. “You are very welcome, little one.” She glanced behind her at the restaurant, her ears flattening against her skull ever so slightly. “I am glad I was able to help, but I am afraid that is all I can do.” Astrid tilted her head in question, and the mare continued, “I would be happy to offer you a place to stay for the night, but my father. . .” Her face morphed into a slight grimace of disapproval. “He would not allow it.”
Astrid flinched at the word.
“As such, I am afraid that I must bid you farewell, and goodnight.” Dipping her head to Astrid one last time, the mare turned away from Astrid, trotting into the restaurant. The door shut behind her with more force than would be considered necessary, and Astrid ears twitched when he she heard the locks click into place.
She was alone again. As much as she would have liked to request to stay at least for one night, she didn’t want to push her luck either. Considering she was about to break into what must be her home, the mare had been exceedingly generous in not immediately chasing her off or calling the authorities on her like she were a common thief despite catching her in the act.
She was reminded of how cold it was as the warmth of her meal gradually wore off, and she clutched her arms around herself in a vain attempt to stave off the chill. Recognizing there was nothing else for her here, Astrid turned around, and started walking back the way she came.
She absentmindedly contemplated the mares’ actions, wondering why she had taken the time to offer Astrid assistance when it was clear that she had done nothing to earn it, doing the opposite in fact.
“She must not have seen my eyes,” she mumbled sourly. She would have liked to believe otherwise, but the feeling persisted that if the mare had made eye contact for any length of time longer than a few seconds, then she likely would have reacted in the same manner as all the other ponies had. It was a sobering thought, and one that made Astrid consider possibilities on how to remedy this unfortunate truth.
She shivered, felt goosebumps spreading across her obsidian skin. It was an issue to be addressed another time, when she was not in immediate danger of freezing. Why was it so cold in this city anyway, were they somewhere far up North? Did North even exist in a place like this? She supposed marble and plaster might not be the greatest at retaining heat, but surely there was a reason why Astrid felt as though her fingers began to feel numb even when she stuck them in her armpits. Maybe it was getting close to Winter or something. If that was the case, then Astrid was going to be in serious danger if she did not find some way to keep warm throughout the night.
Unsure of what other alternatives she had, Astrid shambled into a long and narrow side-street, seeing a collection of bedsheets and assorted clothes hanging from clotheslines above her head. Even talking horses needed to do their laundry sometimes it seemed. Too focused on keeping warm to worry about the fact that she was going to steal them, Astrid dragged a trashcan over, climbing on top in an effort to reach them.
Her frustration grew when she saw that they were still far outside her grasp. Undeterred, she jumped as high as she could.
Her error was made painfully obvious when she slipped upon landed on the trashcan, falling to the hard ground with a harsh cry of alarm, followed by a pained yelp as she cradled her bruised arm. It was not seriously injured, thank God for that, but it left Astrid struggling to keep her composure as she sat against the cold wall, fighting to keep herself from crying.
With nothing else to do, Astrid laid her head down, using her own mass of hair as a cushion, with nothing but the tarp and her night gown, the only other thing covering her small body, to rely on to shield her from the cold of the night. Just before her eye closed, she noticed the moon overhead, slowly soaring across the dark blue sky.
Her last thought before the paltry comfort of sleep took hold was that she swore it looked like there was a unicorn head on it, gazing down at her from high above.
Sitting alone in her chambers, the only thing that kept Celestia company throughout the remainder of the night was sound of her quill, held aloft in the golden aura of her magic, scratching against parchment as she signed her name along the dotted line, completing one more document out of the dozens of others that laid across her desk, separated into two stacks set apart from each other at opposite ends.
The one on the right were the ones that she had already completed, while the stack on the left were those that the Princess still had yet to look over and decide whether or not they appropriate enough to warrant her signature. To her mild annoyance the latter was presently much larger than the former, indicating that would be spending at least another few hours or so reading through them. Setting the completed document into its proper place, it was soon replaced by yet another to be signed as Celestia skimmed through its contents, keeping a watchful eye out for any key words that would hint at some form of dishonesty.
She never could be too careful, especially when it concerned new regulations proposed by the court, which largely consisted of the nobility. While some were mostly benign, every once in a while Celestia would find something that would make her question the moral integrity of her little ponies.
It seemed that tonight was rather slow however, as she only had to send back a grand total of fourteen documents and proposals, each one laced with subtle, and sometimes not so subtle wordplay that might have slipped past a less experienced mare. Celestia saw through their attempts at subverting the law in favor of padding their coffers. Such papers either wound up in the revision pile off to the side if they were not too heinous in their requests, or straight into the trash bin if they were beyond saving.
A sensation like that of somepony breathing down her neck touched her senses, sending an icy crawl down her back.
Celestia immediately stopped. For the second time in two nights she had felt this strange sensation, this looming feeling that something was not quite right. She stood up, walked away from her desk to look outside from her balcony, attempting to discern what had caused it.
Nothing.
For some odd reason, this did little to dissuade Celestia’s suspicion that there was something happening out there in the night, a presence or force that she was only superficially aware of, unable to see. It frustrated her, and the fur along her spine raised ever so slightly in agitation.
Knowing that stewing over the matter would not help her, Celestia resigned herself to being kept in dark, at least for the time being, as she sat back down at her desk. Just what had caused it, Celestia wondered as her brow furrowed while she dipped her quill in the inkwell to her right, coating the tip in a fresh coat of black ink.
A knock came at her door, interrupting her thoughts on the matter and startling Celestia enough that she accidentally tipped the inkwell over, spilling its contents all over the paper she was reviewing. Groaning in disgust at the mess she had unintentionally made, Celestia picked up the soiled paper, knowing that it was beyond saving. “Enter,” she called as she stood up, feeling her joints pop a little from sitting for so long. There was only so much a plush cushion could do for the hindquarters of a centuries old alicorn after all. At her admission, the doorknob turned and the door pushed open to reveal a middle aged mare wearing a pair of sharp looking glasses. Celestia noticed that her usually immaculate black mane and tail sported a few stray hairs and split ends as the mare trudged in, carrying upon her back two heavy looking paper binders, held together with what seemed an entire cabinets worth of paper clips.
“Raven?” Celestia said in mild surprise, tossing the ruined paper into the trash bin before hurrying over to the mare. “Here, let me help you with that.” Before Raven could say anything in protest, as the Princess knew she would, the binders were enveloped in her magic as they were lifted off of the mares' back. Setting them off to the side, Celestia regarded her assistant with a friendly smile, while Raven only had a look of annoyance to offer back as she glared at the much taller pony.
“I was fine, thank you very much,” Raven muttered crossly. However Celestia paid no mind to the tone that her assistant was taking with her and proceeded to trot over and wrap pull her in for a feathery embrace with an outstretched wing. Raven merely sighed.
“I didn’t know you were back yet,” Celestia said. “I thought you would be would be in Neighpon for at least another week. Did you not enjoy your vacation?”
Pulling herself out of the embrace, Raven straightened herself up a little before she answered. “On the contrary your highness, it was the most fun I've had in years. The Emperor was actually rather pleased with the idea of appointing a new dignitary. But you know, after a while I just couldn't help but miss work.” Glancing at the thick stacks of documents as well as the mess left by the inkwell, Raven remarked, “I see that you have quite a bit on your hooves as well. Are the Bluebloods trying to get you let them have uninhibited access to the treasury? Again?”
“Nothing quite as exciting as that I’m afraid,” Celestia responded. “Just their typical attempts at exploiting loopholes in the law. If you’re wondering about the mess, I just spilled some ink. No need to worry about it though, I’ll just tell Amadeus that it got lost in transit. Heaven knows he’ll have a new one written up before the end of the day,” she said with a roll of her eyes. Raven let out a chuckle at hearing the Princess’ attempt at humor, and already Celestia could feel the stress that had been weighing down on her mind gradually ease away as she added, “I’m glad to have you back Raven.”
“Of course you are,” Raven answered as she turned around, trotting towards the door. “You’d be lost without me if I let you deal with everything by yourself.”
Chuckling at the comment, Celestia sighed as she said, “Well, I suppose that I should let you go. You’ve undoubtedly had a long trip. You should get some rest while you can. You may resume your regular duties tomorrow.” Raven looked like she was about to protest against the advice, but no sooner than had Celestia make her suggestion did she let a tired yawn escape her lips, covering her mouth with a hoof.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Raven replied as she trotted off, heading towards the door. “Today was market day after all. Got to go and stock up on a few things anyway. Have a good night Princess.” Celestia dipped her head a little in acknowledgement as she watched her assistant go. However just before she left Celestia spoke up.
“Excuse me, Raven?” she said, causing the mare to stop just before she walked around the corner. Celestia considered her next sentence, unsure precisely how to speak what was on her mind. “You. . . you would not happen to know of anything strange going on would you, either in or around the city?”
Raven cocked an eyebrow at Celestia. “What do you mean by strange?” she questioned. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that Princess, because there’s a lot of weird stuff that goes on in Canterlot.”
Celestia thought for a moment, suddenly finding it difficult to discuss the matter, but eventually decided to just drop it. Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind. It’s nothing really, just a feeling. I think I must just be overworking myself, that’s all.”
Raven’s eyebrow was still raised as she regarded Celestia with an inquisitive expression, clearly wanting to probe further for a credible answer. She apparently chose not to though as she simply said, “Alright then if you say so Princess. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Raven,” Celestia responded, bidding her assistant a fond farewell as she left, closing the chamber doors behind her and leaving the Princess by herself once more. Celestia returned to her desk as a sigh escaped her left her lips, and casually cleaned up the blotches of ink with a flick of her magic. Once her workspace was clear, she sat, resuming her usual duties.
It looked as though she would have to pull another all-nighter.
Astrid awoke, her eye slowly cracking open as the general hustle and bustle of the city around her stirred her from her peaceful slumber, thrusting her consciousness into the waking world with all of the gentleness and caring of a train ramming into a brick wall.
She had dreamt again, the visions she bore witness to in her sleep leaving her feeling morose and longing for home. Images of the front door to her house with her father standing just inside lingered in her thoughts as questions she did not have answers to resurfaced.
Unwilling to dwell on them, Astrid opened her mouth to let out a mighty yawn and stretched, feeling strangely constricted in her movements. When she opened her eyes, she deduced that it must have been around dawn or something, as it was still considerably dim with tinges of bright orange occupying her field of view. However, she was rendered mildly befuddled. Didn’t she fall asleep in an alleyway or something? Why was it that she could not really see anything?
As awareness returned to her and the cogs in her brain began to spin, Astrid noticed that her vision was not impaired, merely obstructed by something covering her. A warm blanket shielding her from the outside world, enveloping her tiny frame in a cozy little orange cocoon.
“When did I get a blanket?” she wondered aloud, rubbing her the sand of her eyes.
As soon as the question was asked, her eyes immediately shot open to their fullest extent, noticing with increasing alarm that her “blanket” seemed to strangely be made of strands of bright orange thread.
She jumped up, flailing her arms around wildly, stumbling around and bumping into everything while repeatedly shouting “Get it off!” After a few moments of panic her hair finally reverted back to its original shape and position on her head, leaving Astrid leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, Astrid wondered bitterly if there was anything else about her unfamiliar body she should start worrying about. She did not particularly care for glowing in the dark and her hair apparently having a mind of its own.
Calming down a bit, Astrid remembered that it had protected her from the cold while she slept. As much as she wanted to condemn her own body, she had to admit the fact that, on the surface at least, certain aspects of it had been of great benefit to her.
It did not mean she had to like it, Astrid decided, though neither was she going to continue to begrudge it. She might even begin to actually like it, assuming she could control it. Right now, she was none too keen on the idea having what might essentially be an extra limb she had no command over. Reminded of when she had crushed a trashcan as though it were made of tinfoil, Astrid sat down with a length of her hair cradled in her hands. Perhaps, she wondered, if she tried hard enough she could repeat the event.
She first took a few deep breaths, calming herself. “Alright, here goes nothing.”
Concentrating as hard as she could to exclusion of all else, Astrid focused all her attention and willpower on the orange locks. Her brow furrowed when no results were forthcoming, and she growled in exasperation.
Just then a thought occurred to her just as she was about to give up. Perhaps she was doing it all wrong. Beforehand she had been actively trying to command it to do what she desired, giving it a mental order to obey her. Maybe if she instead. . .
Concluding that she didn’t have anything to lose, Astrid tried again. However, instead of trying to get her hair to obey her, she tried to think of it like she would her own arms; mere extensions of herself that did not require conscious input to influence. For minutes she kept at it, to the point where she began to go red in the face from the amount of concentration she was putting into the effort, while also trying keep from putting in as little effort as possible.
Then, ever so slightly, the very tips of her hair curled inward into a little ball.
“Yes!” Astrid shouted, throwing her arms up in triumph. As soon as she did so her grasp on it faded, and the locks reverted back into limp threads. It was not much, and there was very little Astrid imagined she could with it right now, but at that moment she was willing to overlook that in favor of taking any victory she could get, no matter how miniscule.
It was a start, and it was much needed boost in confidence that Astrid found herself in desperate need of as she slumped against the wall. The effort had taken more out of her than she expected, leaving her almost breathless. Regardless, Astrid was happy about it, and she pumped her fist weakly in the air.
“Whoo-hoo,” she muttered, a grin crossing her face.
Author's Note
Hello everyone! Sorry for the slight delay in uploading this chapter. Been having some computer issues as of late, but hopefully they should be resolved now.
Astrid stared intently at the stone laying down in front of her, tuning herself into an almost trance-like state, focusing all her willpower on it. She had long since lost track of time as she spent what must have been over an hour or so practicing her newfound ability, determined to at least have some grasp over it before the day was over.
Breathing deeply, Astrid once more began the process as the tip of her orange hair quivered a little bit, before slowly snaking its way towards the stone. Here came the tricky part, as Astrid mentally coerced it into forming a small loop, constricting around the rock like a strange serpent. It took every bit of concentration she had not to lose control. Ever so lightly, her hair gently tightened around it, and there Astrid held it for a moment, preparing herself for the real test.
Attempting to push aside her weariness, Astrid cleared her mind of all distractions in favor of the action she wanted to perform. Her hair quivered again, and for a moment she feared she had lost it. She quickly stowed the thought however, knowing it would not help. Then, she lifted the stone.
Her heart hammered in her chest, and beads of sweat streaked across her face. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to just give up on the pretense that if she found a way home, she wouldn’t have use of it. The distraction went ignored, and with one final grunt of effort, Astrid lifted the stone a full foot and a half off the ground, beating her previous record of ten inches.
Satisfied with the results of her efforts, Astrid finally saw fit to release her concentration. Her limb of follicles went limp as a noodle and the stone clattered against the pavement before settling a few feet away from her. Despite her exhaustion, Astrid nonetheless felt strangely giddy at having finally attained some semblance of mastery over her alien form, and she was unable to suppress herself from jumping up in excitement, grinning like a madwoman the whole time. “Yes! Ha ha!” She pointed a finger up at the sky and shouted at no one in particular. “Take that! Just you wait, I am getting out of this!”
Eventually her fatigue got the better of her as she sat back down, spine pressed against the cool wall. Her optimism remained undiminished as she wondered, somewhat fancifully, about all of the possible things she could that her extra limb could afford her, once she eventually mastered it that is. It would certainly help in accommodating for her diminutive stature.
For some reason, Astrid found that thought strangely funny, and a tired chuckle escaped her lips.
For a long while Astrid simply sat there recovering her strength. She debated on whether or not she wanted to continued practicing. It seemed that at the rate she was going it would not be that much longer before controlling her hair took no more effort than it did to raise her arm. Although with that came the question of what she was going to do about her other ability.
Astrid remembered in great detail and none too fondly the incident Trixie’s carriage. As frightening as that ordeal had been, the feeling she experienced. . . the sensation of her own body becoming intangible as it melted into the darkness. . .
In truth, it frightened her in a way Astrid was not sure how to describe, and just thinking about it made her clutch her legs close to her chest in a vain attempt to comfort herself. It reminded her vaguely of her reaction to unfiltered sunlight, turning her into a wispy silhouette.
She did not like it. Her hair behaving of its own accord was one thing, but that. . .
Astrid wanted no part of that if she could help it, no matter how helpful it may seem, not while she had no clue on how to control it. Maybe in the future, when she had a better grasp on her alien form, but until then she was going to stay clear of it.
Having no desire to dwell on the matter any further, Astrid eventually decided that she gotten in enough practice for time being. It was a start, and for now was happy with as her thoughts turned to other matters.
“I need a plan,” she muttered. She stood up and began pacing, turning her necklace over in her hands. “I can’t just wing it here, I have to figure what I’m going to do.” Wracking her brain for an idea of what she was going to do, Astrid began the steady process of considering her options. “I can’t stay on the street forever. I need a place to sleep, and I need to eat. Those are immediate.” She paused to take a quick whiff of herself. “Definitely a bath at some point. After that I need. . . what? What do I need to fix this?”
Astrid stopped pacing for a moment, heavily contemplating the quandary before her. She was never that good at problems such as these, she recalled as memories of elementary school popped up in her thoughts. Studies in logic had not been her strong suit, but right now she had to think hard on what would constitute her safe return home.
“Information,” she blurted out, resuming her pacing. “I need information. Information on where I am at. That should be easy enough, just need to find something. . .”
Astrid paused once more, taking note of the jaunty whistle coming from just outside the alleyway. She spied around the corner, seeing a yellow pegasus stallion standing in front of a newspaper dispenser. She watched with rapt attention as he inserted what looked like a gold coin of some sort into a slot, upon which he lifted the top and pulled out a fresh newspaper roll, holding it gingerly in his mouth before tucking it under a wing, before trotting away.
She considered acquiring one, then disregarded it upon recalling that she could not read the alphabet of this world. At most all she would get from a newspaper were a bunch of indecipherable tabloids, articles and. . .
“A map.”
Regardless of her ability to read, she knew a map or anything like that was always useful. Wasting not a single moment more, she left her hiding place, hurrying over to the dispenser. She was stopped when she emerged out into the brightness of day, causing her to recoil and rub her eyes until her sight returned.
She was quickly becoming quite annoyed with her photosensitivity as she pulled the tarp over her head. The mostly white walls of the surrounding buildings did nothing to help as they only seemed to amplify the level of brightness to a degree where Astrid found it almost painful even while covering her eyes. She groped blindly, feeling for the dispenser.
Once she found it, she gripped the lid and lifted with all her meager might. It would not budge however, remaining firmly locked in place. Astrid soon gave up, recognizing that it would not relinquish its contents without an exchange of currency, with she found herself lacking. Trying to break it open was also not an option for her. Even in the blinding light Astrid could still see quite a few ponies walking about, some of which were already giving her curious glances.
In lieu of that, Astrid came up with an alternative course of action.
Astrid was not looking forward to what she was about to do, especially when she considered her actions the previous night. To settle her morals as she waited impatiently at the entrance of the alleyway, she reasoned that was a stark difference between breaking a window and grabbing a bunch of papers. She didn’t like either action, but when it came down to either wandering the streets and hoping she came across something useful or obtaining information that relevant right now, she just had to bite the bullet and forsake her conscience. . . just this once.
Before long the opportunity she had been waiting for revealed itself as a cyan mare with a magenta mane and tail trotted up to the dispenser. Inserting a coin, she soon had a fresh roll of papers held in front of her, casually reading it as it hung suspended in an aura of green. Seeing this Astrid was reminded of Trixie’s stage show, and not for the first time she wondered how all the unicorns she had seen were able to do that with their horns.
She had very little time to ponder it though as the mare approached the alleyway, blissfully unaware of the imp hiding just around the corner. Her heart already racing before she had moved so much as an inch, Astrid prepared herself to run. As soon as the tip of the mares’ muzzle came into view around the corner, she made her move.
Lunging out of the shadows Astrid snatched the newspapers out of the air, scattering a few of them surprising the mare to no end as she let out a frightened scream of surprise, drawing the attention of every pony in the immediate vicinity. “I’mverysorrybutIneedthisrightnow!” Astrid said quickly, wasting no time in making her escape as she dashed back into the alley.
“No! Not my coupons!” she heard the mare lament from behind her, too preoccupied with escaping to look back as she weaved her way through the narrows side streets. She didn’t hear any signs of a pursuit, but she would not feel comfortable until she was far from the scene of the crime. After a few minutes of running Astrid finally felt it was safe enough to stop and catch her breath a bakery shop, huddled behind a dumpster, away from prying eyes and irritating sunlight.
Constantly glancing around her to ensure that she was not about to be jumped, Astrid laid her prize on the ground and took a took a look at the front page of the newspaper, a bit roughed up from her thievery, but otherwise serviceable.
At first Astrid thought she was looking at nothing more than an odd cloud formation. The monochrome print was doing her no favors, forcing Astrid to squint to clearer idea of what exactly she was looking at, until it finally dawned on her.
Buildings on clouds. There were actual, solid structures built on puffy white clouds. And by the looks it was not just a little bit either, but an entire community, an entire city even, constructed on what basically amounted to an aerosol version of water.
“What is wrong with this place?” Astrid breathed, just barely able to keep herself from crying out in frustration. She had to move on, and just admit to herself that nothing made sense anymore. As long as no other world shattering revelations appeared, she would be happy.
Skipping ahead by a large amount in an effort to preserve what sanity she had left, Astrid came across one page that appeared to be list of job openings. She became excited when she noticed the little map printed next to them, their locations highlighted at various points.
Finally, something she could use to find her way around. She wasn’t great at reading maps, but she was good enough to avoid getting completely lost whenever she went on school fieldtrips and the like. Looking around, Astrid felt that she could actually identify what appeared to be a library, confirming its location on her little map. She now had a point of reference.
As little as it seemed, it gave Astrid a sense of actual control over her immediate future, and that in and of itself was incredibly relieving for her. Her spirits somewhat lifted, she then proceeded to consider what her next step was going to be. As helpful as the newspaper had been, revelation of cloud cities notwithstanding, she knew that she needed more than a few tabloids to start coming up with a plan going forward.
After mulling the issue over for a bit, Astrid became aware of the growing hunger emanating from her midsection, most likely brought on by her exertions from earlier. Forgoing planning in favor of getting something to eat, Astrid tore out the page with the map and rolled up the newspaper, casually tossed it into the dumpster before hurrying away in search of her next meal.
After walking around for a little bit, all the while being careful to avoid the sun if she could help it, Astrid began to absentmindedly think. Not about anything in particular, truth be told. Her thoughts seemed to constantly dart between subjects, everything from her interaction with that mare from the previous night, to what she would potentially use her newfound abilities for. Chief among them was how she was going to be able to keep herself fed without resorting to begging. However much she may have found it distasteful to ask for handouts, or hoofouts as the case may be, Astrid accepted that it may be her only option for the foreseeable future. Maybe she could find loose change on the ground. She was not sure how much those little gold coins were worth here, but if she found enough, she could probably buy herself a decent meal without resorting to thievery, assuming the ponies would be willing to accept her business.
Her encounter with the mare seemed to indicate that the majority of them would, if a bit reluctantly. It was the whole reason Astrid was using the sidewalk as opposed to prowling around in a dank alleyway in her search for a meal. For the most part the most that any of the ponies did when they noticed her was point and whisper. It was unnerving, but until such time as they brought out the torches and pitch forks Astrid would ignore them to the best of her ability.
As Astrid thought, wondering if it would be possible to go for a dive in a fountain for any change the ponies might have tossed inside, a certain aroma tickled her nostrils. Astrid paused. She sniffed the air.
“Is that. . ?” She murmured, not wanting to say it aloud for fear of getting her hopes up. She had to be certain though, and she let her nose guide her to the source of the scent. Shortly into her journey through the city Astrid rounded a corner, and there it was.
Never before had Astrid felt so enamored in all her life, and her eyes widened as she beheld the glorious structure in front of her.
“Oh my God,” she said quietly, rendered completely awestruck as she felt herself be drawn forward, heedless of the curious glances and stares of the ponies in the immediate area. They were inconsequential compared to what she was seeing.
In due time Astrid had her face smooshed up against the window, looking inward at the confectionary treasure trove before her. Everything from powdered to glazed lay within, tragically separated from her only by a pane of glass. And just inside, barely within her field of view, she saw ponies taste testing a few of the delicacies, held up on little plastic plates, and she realized with a fluttering heart and a drooling tongue that they were treating themselves to what could only be free samples.
Astrid ran to the front door, whereupon the little jingle of a bell sounded off as she burst inside, looking forward to gorging herself on as many free samples as she could get away with. Moments later Astrid came scurrying back out, covering her head as she ran while a stocky stallion in an apron chased after her, brandishing a broom in his fetlocks.
“Get!” he shouted after her. “Shoo, ya little pest! Don’t need ya stinkin’ up the place!”
Unwilling to argue with the stallion on the matter and bring up how shoddy the customer service was, Astrid begrudgingly complied with his “request” as she hurried away.
“So much for that,” Astrid muttered bitterly as she kicked at a loose pebble, sending it clattering away across the cobblestone path. In her escape she had found herself in some sort of tree filled park. After consulting with her portion of a map, she guessed that it was somewhere at or close to the edge of the city. She could still see the bell tower from here, so she was not completely lost.
Her mood was heavily soured by what just happened, and she could not keep herself from feeling intensely frustrated about it, although in hindsight she probably should have seen it coming. She chastised herself for being foolish enough to believe it would be that simple, that she could just waltz anywhere she pleased without any repercussions. The mare from the previous night was starting to look more like an exception to the majority of her kind, as Astrid recalled every occurrence in which she had singled out.
It seemed if she was not being confused for some stray animal, then she was actively hunted by whatever passed for a police force.
She kicked at the pebble again, putting a little more force into the strike than was probably necessary, sending it flying off the path entirely and into a spider bush.
“This sucks.”
A gross understatement, she felt, at least in her opinion. Recognizing that continuing to brood on the weight of her predicament would only result in her becoming that much more frustrated about it, Astrid attempted to calm down and just forget about the whole thing entirely.
She came across a wooden bench a few minutes later sitting beneath an oak tree. Hefting herself onto it, Astrid took a moment to just sit there and do nothing. At the moment, she had no desire to do much of anything other than just rest and recuperate. She could figure her next move afterward, when she was in a somewhat milder mindset.
She was not sure where the thought came from, but for some reason it suddenly occurred to Astrid that she did not yet know what the rest of her small body looked like underneath her nightshirt. Until then she did not view as an important topic, but now that it was on her mind her curiosity refused to leave her be until she addressed it.
Pulling at her shirt she craned her head down to get a better look at herself, already having some idea of what sort of changes had been enacted upon. As she expected, her skin tone was made up a sections of black and white, creating unnatural swirling patterns across her body. What she had not been expecting however was to find that she lacked any sort of defining characteristics or features that were typical of the female body other than her naval.
It was also the first time she noticed that she was wearing basically nothing other her nightshirt. Her other garments had gone missing, probably left behind somewhere in the forest.
Astrid was not sure how this revelation had escaped her attention for so long, but now that she was made aware of the fact that she been basically running around half naked since the moment she first woke up in this place, she felt her face heat up in abject horror and embarrassment. She instinctively hugged herself, attempting to preserve whatever modesty she may have had left as she frantically looked around to see there was anybody or anything watching.
As far as she knew there were no ponies in the immediate vicinity, and Astrid supposed that they would not have really cared all that much, seeing as they don’t wear clothes either. Whatever the case may be, she still felt compelled to once more don the itchy tarp, preferring that over exposing herself.
With a sigh, Astrid slumped downward, already feeling exhausted despite the fact that it was only the middle of the day. All she wanted right now was to just be left alone to stew in peace.
Much to her annoyance however, it seemed that her luck was determined to work against her. Off to her left Astrid picked up the distinctive sound of hooves steadily approaching her location. It was not long before she also heard what sounded like frantic breathing.
Too nervous to remain out in the open, Astrid quickly scrambled to hide herself behind the bench, where she stood peering through the slats. She did so just in time to watch as a young pony, a colt she thought, gallop past as quickly as his legs could carry him. She was not sure, but it looked he was carrying a bunch of items in his saddlebags, but he was going too fast for her to get a good look, and within moments she lost sight of him.
“What was that all about?” she wondered aloud. She was about to step out of her hiding spot when she heard more ponies close by, prompting her to stay put as they drew near. It was a group this time, three of them, all foals by the look of it. Running by, Astrid overheard one of them say, “I saw the runt go this way!” and another reply, “Don’t worry, he ain’t gettin’ far!”
As soon as she heard them say that, it suddenly became all too clear to Astrid what their intentions were, and she looked on with concern as they passed her by in pursuit of their quarry, paying no notice to the little imp hidden behind the bench.
The coast finally clear, allowing her to step out. However, instead of going the opposite way as she knew was probably the smart thing to do, she felt strangely compelled to do something about what she just saw, which confused her to no end. This had nothing to do with her, why should she get herself involved. She had no obligation to after all, and for all she knew it was all just some sort of weird game they were playing. And even if there was foul play involved, what could she realistically do about it?
With a shake of her head, Astrid turned herself around, beginning to trudge back the way she came. “Don’t get involved Astrid,” she repeatedly told herself. “Don’t get involved, it’s not your problem.”
She took exactly three steps before she came to a halt. She let out a breath and her shoulders sagged in resigned defeat. All while telling herself it was a bad idea, she turned and broke into a full sprint, following the foals and hoping she could catch up to them.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. . .”
Sterling was not the sort of colt to begrudge his lot in life. All things considered he had it pretty good, and far be it from him to be ungrateful for any of it. Although at the moment, if there were ever a time he felt inclined to complain about anything, now seemed as appropriate as ever.
The young pinto colt was honestly not sure how much worse things could be, and it was all that he could do to keep himself going at this pace as his saddlebag full of books only felt heavier and heavier with every second that went by. It did not help that his downy mane kept getting in his eyes the whole time.
He knew if he did not think of a way to get out of this situation, and quickly at that, then he would have lot more to be worried about than the black eye coming his way. As much as he wanted to avoid injury, he dreaded the consequences of being late even more. The foals chasing him were the least of his concerns.
Still, Sterling supposed this is what he gets for trying to take a shortcut, even though he knew they would be waiting for him in the park. He had already long since passed the point of regretting his poor decision though, and was now focused solely on staying ahead of his pursuers long enough to make it into the busy streets once more, where he had a better chance of losing them.
He swore he could hear them now, trailing just behind in their feverish attempts to catch him, the tromp of their hooves sounding much too close for comfort.
“Quit now while you can runt! You’re only making it worse for yourself!”
Sterling highly doubted the legitimacy of the statement, but was unfortunately in no mood to stop and debate with them. Somehow he didn’t think they would be up for a lecture. As such he kept going, knowing it was not that much further now until he finally made it out of the park. He soon reached a wooden bridge, spanning twenty feet over a gurgling creek. All he had to do was make it over that and he should be in the clear.
Just when he thought he was about to make it, as soon as Sterling crested the bridge’s peak, he skidded to a halt, recognizing that he had made a grave error in his judgement.
“Hey there runt,” said Glim, a lanky unicorn filly with a fiery pink coat and eyes that matched. The calm manner in which she spoke contrasted heavily with her haggard appearance. She was covered in little scratches and a few twigs stuck in her frizzy magenta mane. He guessed that she must have taken a shortcut of her own to get here before him, and she looked none to pleased about it. Next to her stood one of her cronies, just as scuffed up, but he was not as much of a concern.
Sterling turned to gallop back the way he came, only to find himself blocked in by her other two toadies.
“Sorry, but you’re not gettin’ away that easy this time runt.”
“Buck,” he said under his breath, left with no other option but to accept his fate, all the while wondering why there were no adult ponies in sight as he was boxed by the four foals until his flank was pressed against the railing.
“L-listen guys, I don’t want any trouble, alright?” he stammered ineffectually, pausing to blow a bit of his mane out of his eyes.
Before he could add anything to that statement, Glim cut him off with “Really? Well then you should’ve thought of that before you went and snitched on us you little rat.” Her cronies snickered beside her in amusement.
“Oh come on Glim, you know I had to tell somepony what you all were doing,” he replied, hoping beyond hope that that he could sway them with his reasons for ratting them out the previous day. Of course, it had yet to work the last few times he tried, and each occasion only ended with him getting the snot beat out of him, but at the moment he figured he had nothing else to lose. “I mean, pranks are one thing Glim, but what you were doing. . . somepony could have really gotten hurt.”
“Could’ve been hurt,” Glim emphasized with a raised hoof, speaking as though she were a teacher and he the ignorant pupil. She then said with an insincere grin, “I mean, really , it’s not like we would actually want to hurt anypony, right? It’s all in good fun anyways, and that mare had it coming to her for being such a showoff.”
“That’s what you always say, glitter head,” Sterling muttered, before realizing in horror that he had accidentally said it aloud, and too late he covered his mouth with a hoof.
Fiery rage flashed in Glim’s eyes and the tip of her blunt horn sparked. The mouths of her toadies formed small circles as they looked on in awed shock, and they took a unanimous step backwards. Sterling didn’t speak; he knew it would only make things worse than already were for him.
Glim shut her eyes and she sighed. “Sterling,” she said with a shake of her head. This frightened Sterling even more, as she only ever referred to him by name when she was extremely ticked off with him. As demeaning as it was, he honestly preferred it when she called him runt, at least then he knew he had a chance of getting out unscathed. But he knew the consequences would be severe this time, and his apprehension showed as his ears laid flat against his head.
“Oh Sterling.” Glim strolled up to stand next to him, placing a hoof around his withers. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking if he tried. “You know something? I just don’t get you, you know? I mean, we’re all just ponies right? No different from the other than I am from you.”
Sterling felt compelled to say how much they differed, but wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.
“But the thing is, it just seems like you think you can tell us what’s right and wrong because you getting special lessons or something like that. You think that because you don’t have to go to regular school like regular foals means you get to decide what’s best.” Her grip tightened ever so slightly. “And you know something Sterling? That really ticks me off like you would not believe.”
In one swift motion Glim had ripped off his saddlebag before he could react.
“No wait!” Sterling shouted, moving to reclaim his possessions. He was not fast enough as he was tackled to the floor by her cronies, one of them holding his head down, leaving him helpless to do anything but watch as Glim rummaged through his saddlebag. She pulled out a hardbound book, scrutinizing the cover.
“Ooh. What’s this? Something important I bet.” She proceeded to then toss it over the rail, along with the saddlebag. Sterling’s heart fell when he heard them splash into the water below. “Oh well, you won’t be needing it anymore anyways, right fellas?”
All Sterling heard was muffled giggling. Tears began leaking out of his eyes, which only made them laugh all the harder.
Glim trotted up toward him, whereupon she bent down to growl into his ear, “Your turn runt.”
“W-wait! Wait a minute!” Sterling shouted. He thrashed and struggled as much as he could. It was useless though, as no matter what he did to escape he was nevertheless lifted up, each of the foals taking a hold of one of his legs. Held upside down, Sterling found it difficult to breathe, much less call for help as they began swing him back and forth in preparation to heave him over the side.
“On three fellas. One. . .” Glim called.
“Wait!”
“Two. . .”
“Please stop!”
“Thr-“
“Usendu ederes!” somepony else shouted, and immediately afterward Sterling felt one of his limbs go free as Glim was yanked away by something, screaming at the top of her lungs.
“What the hay!” he heard the other foals shout. They released him, dropping him to the floor unceremoniously with a hard thud, leaving him dazed and frantically wondering what was going on. He regained his bearings just enough to see Glim go flying over the railing courtesy of an enormous orange limb, kicking and screaming until she hit the water with a respectable splash. Before he could get a good look at whatever the thing was, he was bowled over as the remaining three foals bolted away, having lost all traces of their previous bravado as they ran screaming in terror.
Bruised and battered, Sterling couldn’t help but wince a little as he picked himself up off the ground, then remembered the potential danger he was in. He looked behind him, brushing his lanky mane out of his eyes, fulling expecting to find some sort of hulking monstrosity looming over him, for what else could be so terrible that it could frighten away such ruffians, especially in the middle of their favorite pastime?
What he saw instead made him unsure if he should be relieved, or even more concerned.
Sterling was honestly not sure what he was looking at. The best that his addled mind could come up with was that it was some sort of specter or apparition, but what apparition could lift and throw a filly? It seemed to lack any sort of depth, its shadowy form coalescing into a bipedal shape that was rather diminutive in stature, standing only slightly taller than him. He could make out its silhouette, but other than that the rest of features were oddly obscured. He noticed something shimmering brightly on its chest, but couldn’t make it out clearly.
He almost would not have believed that this strange creature had been what rescued him from being tossed into the creek along with his books, if not for the gigantic, glowing orange limb attached to its head. It was formidable looking, stretching nearly ten feet long and seeming to almost pulsate with barely contained strength and energy.
Rather hard to miss, really. The thing looked strong enough to crush a wagon in its grip. A foal would probably pose it little issue, he thought with a shudder.
While his brain worked overtime in attempting to process just what in Celestia’s name he was looking at, he became further confused when the huge arm suddenly began to dissipate, shrinking down and unraveling into a mass of follicles that fell over the creatures’ face in a curtain of its own sunset tinted hair. It struggled and spat at suddenly finding its vision impaired. “Usai eteijah ish ariari aw erok.” it exclaimed in agitation. Once it had gotten its mane out of its face, the creature looked at him, allowing Sterling to see the one part of it that was not obscured by its depthless countenance, namely its eyes.
They were a deep red, like freshly drawn blood from a wound. For some odd reason, Sterling found that one single aspect to be the unnerving thing about it, even when he considered everything else he had seen so far.
He began shaking when the creature began walking towards him, and for a brief moment he wondered if he was better off with being thrown into the creek.
“Akused, bojiad ni soko aw atan?” it said when it reached him. He noticed that her voice, for it had to be female based on the pitch, had a strange quality to it, as though she were speaking to him from the other side of a tunnel. It echoed and lilted in a way that was almost musical, contrasting with her unsettling appearance.
What she had said was lost on Sterling however, as he had no clue what in the world she had just asked him. He wasn’t sure if it was even a question, he was just guessing based on the way she said it. For all he knew she could be threatening to beat him up if he didn’t give her his lunch money or something. It would not be the first time he had to part with his bits, but the circumstances here were somewhat different.
As such, all Sterling was able to come up with in response was open mouth, “Uhhh. . .” This earned him a look of what he guessed to be uncertainty from her, apparently not expecting that kind of answer.
A splash interrupted his moment of stupefied confusion, following an exclamation of, “I swear, whoever did that is gonna regret it hard!” It was none other than Glim, who had finally dragged herself out of the creek to the muddy shore, coughing and sputtering and soaking wet. The newcomer noticed her presence as well, and her crimson eyes narrowed fiercely at the filly. She stomped past Sterling, who decided to be a polite gentlecolt by scurrying out of her way.
“Uosheduru o koto no uregan atanaw ishita!” She yelled angrily, sounding very much like she was jeering at Glim. The filly took notice of the ire being directed her way. She glanced towards them, first appearing furious before her expression turned to one of intimidated bewilderment. Not even bothering to dry herself off first, Glim galloped in the same direction as her toadies. “Irot ono iah! Ono attarom ga atana!”
For the third time in a span of about three minutes, Sterling was rendered completely dumbfounded, not just by the newcomer, but also that she had forced Glim of all foals to turn tail and retreat, something he had never once in his life expected her to be even capable of. Apparently satisfied, the newcomer turned her attention back to Sterling, muttering something under her breath that he couldn’t quite hear. As she approached, he was once more subjected to the decision of whether he should stay or flee. On the one hoof, he had no idea what she even was or her intentions were; for all he knew she could end up being even worse than all of the abuse he had gotten from Glim and her toadies, and just had not shown it yet.
But on the other hoof though, he could not ignore the fact that she had just saved him from their abuse, and at least seemed to be outwardly concerned for his wellbeing. He just couldn’t decide.
Still muttering what might have been obscenities, the newcomer walked over to a tarp that was laying on the ground a short distance away, picked it up and threw it over her head, concealing her shadowy form. She looked at him, and Sterling was almost taken aback when he saw that her spectral countenance had been replaced by black and white skin. Her eyes retained their unsettling quality though, he noticed as she walked up to him.
“Uoshamirido, ni oroko atemijah eta,” She said to him, standing a few short feet away from him. It was all he could do to keep himself from backing away in intimidation. “Akused eduboji?”
Realizing that she was asking him a question, Sterling shook himself out of his stupor, and replied with “I’m sorry, what was that?”
She cocked her head and quirked an eyebrow at him. There was an air of confusion about her as she repeated the question, to which he responded while holding his hooves up defensively, “I-I’m sorry but have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Oshedna adoja?” She looked and sounded both incredulous, and perhaps even somewhat offended by his answer. Still having no clue what her purpose here was, Sterling steadily began to back away.
“L-listen, I don’t know what you want, and I don’t know if I should really get involved with you, but I really should get going. I have to meet up with my instructor and return those books to. . .“ He trailed off, having suddenly remembered that he was currently not in possession of his saddlebag. “My books!” he exclaimed loudly, startling her severely. Forgetting all about the newcomer, Sterling rushed to the side of the bridge, perched over the wooden railing as he searched desperately for any trace of his saddlebag.
With no regard given to the consequences, he vaulted over the side in the creek below.
The newcomer could only look on in confusion, before giving a weak shrug. “Inoton?” She placed a hand on her hip, using the other to pinch the bridge of her nose, annoyed at having gone to all that trouble, just to watch him throw himself into the creek. With a sigh and shake of her head, she jogged over to the bank.
“Kaba, kaba, kaba, kaba. . .”
In hindsight, it probably was not one of Sterling’s better decisions to leap into the creek, especially after all the pains he had gone to avoid it, but in his panic had failed to take into account the ramifications of cannonballing into approximately four feet of water.
For one thing, he was now both cold and wet. The water was a lot more frigid than he had anticipated, on account of it getting rather close to winter. Canterlot, being sequestered into the side of a mountain far above sea level, was especially susceptible to the changing climate, no matter how much the weather ponies did to negate it.
The second thing was that he was not that great of a swimmer.
The water, however cold it may have been, was just shallow enough that he was not in danger of drowning anytime soon, but even when he stuck to shallower parts to avoid being taken by the current with only his legs submerged, he still made a rather convincing imitation of a floundering fish while he searched for his books.
“Come on, come on, where are they?” he muttered anxiously, attempting to peer into the gurgling waters in the hopes of catching even a fleeting glimpse of his belongings. As soaked as they undoubtedly were now, he was still obligated to return them to his tutor. He just hoped she didn’t mind them being a bit damp when she got them.
He cursed Glim’s name. It was not the first he had done so, and he had his doubts it would be the last even after the newcomer scared her off, he thought bitterly. That filly had always singled him out, and it would take a lot more than the intervention of some stranger to get her to stop altogether. If only he hadn’t opened his stupid mouth. . .
He heard a splash behind him, and he was surprised to find that said newcomer had followed after him, standing in the very edges of the creek and watching him with a look akin to that of bemused frustration.
“What?” he demanded. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and Sterling realized too late how indignant he must have sounded, especially after she had just helped him.
“Etisham ishatiod ne? Usedashnak eta ga ishita aw eros,” she said harshly. She then added with unmistakable sarcasm, “Usamish ashnak ni Ishita.”
Sterling ears flattened against his head, and he blushed in grim embarrassment. He hazarded a guess that she was expecting him to at least show some gratitude, and he really did want to thank her properly. But at the same time, he was under extreme pressure to get going, and he replied, “Listen, I appreciate your help, but I really need to find my stuff. Do you understand? Unless you can help with that then you’re better off not wasting your time with me.”
Still giving him a resentful glare, the newcomer didn’t even bother looking as she pointed at something further down the creek. After getting over his momentary fascination with the way her pointed fingers curled, he followed were she was pointing. It took a second for him to recognize the lump of cloth that was his saddlebag, its straps caught on the extended branches of a fallen tree limb. Wasting no time Sterling hurried over to it, plucking it out of the water and dragging it to shore with his mouth.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” he exclaimed excitedly. He practically tore it open, inspecting the items inside and checking for any extensive damage. Thankfully by the grace of Celestia they were not in the water long enough to suffer any harm that a lengthy period of drying would not fix. The one book Glim had tossed was nowhere to be found unfortunately, but with a laugh Sterling decided that he was more than willing to accept that loss. His tutor would no doubt be displeased that he let such a tragedy befall them, but better to return most of them in a fixable state than not at all.
He looked to the newcomer, wanting to give her his sincere thanks for her help. She was gone though, and Sterling looked around in confusion. He soon found her, walking away at a brisk pace. He could plainly see the frustration in her gait as she stomped away, and once more he felt a sense of guilt for being so coarse with her. He had no time to make amends though, as he packed away what remained of his books and threw the damp saddlebag over his back. He started galloping away, eager to make up for lost time. A few seconds into his run he came to a halt, his mind refusing to let him continue without properly showing his gratitude. He stamped his hoof in indecision, groaning anxiously from the dilemma before him.
Eventually he made his choice, his conscience refusing to leave him be as he turned around to follow after the newcomer. He soon caught sight of her, and he called out, “Hey! Wait a sec’!”
She did not stop, only slowing to glance back at him before continuing on her way. Undeterred, he called after her a second time. It was only when he ran ahead and placed himself in her path that she finally stopped, giving an impatient glare from beneath her makeshift hood.
“Oushedna?”
“Listen,” he gasped, a bit winded from the chase. He blew his mane out of his eyes while being careful to avoid making contact with hers as much as he could. Though he had no desire to be rude, they still succeeded in unnerving him. “I don’t know if you understand me, but I just want to say thanks for. . . you know, what you did back there and all that.”
“Usediok adat aw atana,” was her reply as she crossed her forearms, which he only now just noticed had little forward pointing spikes on them. “Ishita norichom.”
“Uh huh. . . well anyway I really do appreciate it. I mean if you hadn’t showed up when you did, well. . . let’s just say I don’t think Glim would’ve stopped at just tossing me into the creek.” Standing a little straighter, and also deciding to be a little brave and actually look her in her crimson eyes, he added. “I think we kinda got off on the wrong hoof if you know what I mean, what with my, ahem, predicament and whatnot.” Hesitantly, Sterling swallowed his cowardice and extended his right hoof towards. This caused her to flinch at the movement, and she back away ever so slightly. Sterling paid it little mind however. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m Sterling, Sterling Silver. And you are. . ?”
The newcomer eyed him cautiously for a few brief moments, apprehension clear in her expression. A lull settled between them, and Sterling began to second guess about coming after her. Thankfully she seemed to make up her mind when she extended her own forearm, tentatively pinching his hoof in her fingers. As much as he tried to hide his anxiety, Sterling nevertheless still couldn't help but tense up at the contact. He was somewhat comforted when he saw that she was just as if not more anxious about it than him. She kept it brief, giving only a single light shake before retracting her forearm, rubbing it as though she were pained by the contact.
“Arak on imak,” she muttered, finally answering his question.
“That’s your name?”
She glanced at him, then looked away, giving a terse nod. Based on her response Sterling supposed that she did indeed understand him.
“Bit of a mouthful,” he said, to which she cocked an eyebrow as though offended. “D-don’t get me wrong, it’s very pretty, but do you mind if I just call you something a bit shorter? And easier to say?”
Giving him a deadpan glare, she answered, “Ak usedimi uiod? Usediak ijim aheama nonishata. Nesamira edeaman no atana ga Ishita aw eros.”
“. . . You know, how about we figure that out later,” he said.
“Nesamira aw edo. . .” She began heatedly, before giving up on whatever she was saying with a defeated expression, her shoulders sagging in resignation. “Omednan.”
“Alright then.” Readjusting his still damp saddlebag, Sterling added, “Well anyway I should probably get going. My tutor’s probably pretty mad at me right now for being so late. Plus, it’s going to get dark pretty soon, so I should probably let you go so you can go home.” Bidding her farewell, Sterling made to trot past her. “I guess I’ll be seeing. . . you. . . around. . .”
Sterling’s sentence faded into quiet mumble. Even in his haste he saw the look of hurt on Ima’s face, unmistakable beneath her hood. She noticed his staring, quickly turning away from him. Immediately Sterling recognized his error, and just how grievous it was. “Oh, oh sweet Celestia I’m. . . I uh. . .”
In that moment, Sterling was sorely tempted to just walk away before he made the situation even worse. His hooves remained rooted in place, and the pinto colt went nowhere. He couldn’t just ditch her now, not after a blunder such as his.
“Do you. . . not have anywhere to. . .” Again, he trailed off, finding himself unwilling to finish the sentence. He received no response of any kind, yet that was all the answer he needed to truly understand the mistake he made.
Stupid! how could he be so stupid?! It should’ve been clear to him from the start that she was in such a situation. For Celestia’s sake, she was wearing a dingy tarp as a cloak. He wondered if she even had any parents or anypony to look after her. He dared not voice the question though.
His big mouth had gotten him into enough trouble already.
Still entirely uncertain if he should stick around or not, Sterling cautiously approached, well aware that she was probably going through some rather tumultuous emotions, and in all likelihood wanted to be left alone. He had to make this right somehow though.
“Hey uh, listen. I’m sorry for. . .” He took a deep breath, then continued as he tenderly placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything sensitive, I just-“
“Etti ni ka okod.”
Even though he had no understanding of her language, Sterling was made very aware of the meaning behind her words as she shrugged him off, walking away from him. Sterling knew that he should just leave, but his sense of conscience nudged him to do the opposite, and he hurried after her, once more putting himself in her way.
“No wait!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, really I am.” She refused to make eye contact, but still he persisted. “You don’t deserve that, especially not after what you did for me. So please, will you let me make it up to you?”
No reply. Disheartened, Sterling ears flattened, and he dipped his head in grim acknowledgement of his failure. He perked up though as an idea popped into his head. “How about this? What if you came with me?” Finally, she looked at him. Her expression was pensive, yet he was glad she at least seemed willing to hear him out. “I mean, I’m sure my tutor won’t mind. There’s no way she could be any madder than she probably already is, so she probably won’t mind if you tag along.”
He tried to laugh, but even he had trouble finding humor in his joke. It came out more as a feeble chuckle. He cleared his throat. “Besides, I’ve known her for a while thanks to my mom, so I think she might actually be quite interested in you.” He offered her his hoof, his apprehension replaced by a genuine desire to assist her. Her hard expression softened, and she looked down at the grass in thought. Seconds passed that felt more like minutes to Sterling, and he feared she might actually decline his offer.
His fears were for naught however. She looked up at him, a thin approximation of a smile crossing her face. She gave him a slight nod of her head.
“Agusedon, iatish o eros.”
Sterling beamed, and he began to lead the way.
As much as Astrid had reservations about following this colt, who had previously identified himself as Sterling, she could not deny the appeal of finally finding one local who was at least willing to offer her some form of assistance. Far be it from her to look a gift horse in the mouth. The little while she had spent sequestered in alleys with nothing but her nightshirt and her own hair to keep her warm left her willing to accept just about anything that was offered to her.
As they walked, Sterling decided to talk to her in a rather one sided conversation. He talked about a bunch of things, such as how he had gotten into that situation with those other foals, which apparently involved him snitching on them before they could pull some sort of prank that involved Trixie's show the previous day.
Astrid only listened to the basics, her thoughts centered more so around when she tried to tell him her name. She gritted her teeth at the thought, wondering why he seemed unwilling or unable to understand. As far as she was concerned, they were speaking the same language, yet for some odd reason he seemed completely unaware of anything she said.
He didn’t seem to be doing it to be rude, he genuinely appeared to have no clue what she said. The oddity was highlighted whenever he spoke or asked her a question. As such she kept most of her end of the conversation to a minimum, resorting mostly to either nodding or shaking her head in response to most of his questions.
In an effort to save herself the headache, Astrid set the dilemma aside, choosing instead to just walk with the colt and be grateful for the kindness he was showing her. Given her interactions with most other ponies thus far, she only hoped it did not end up biting her in the butt later on.
It was not very often anymore that Trixie paid visits to her hometown, let alone choose it as the next destination for her show. The showmare considered this to be something of a shame, even considering how much she had tried to distance herself from it over the years.
Still though, she could not help but admit that, in her experience at least, Canterlot still remained one of if not the most lucrative place for her to practice her craft. Street performers and the like were nothing new to the equestrian capital, but Trixie considered herself to be something of a specialist, which was what a pony had to be in order to make a living like she did. Deep down, Trixie still felt some semblance of a connection to Canterlot, and it was this connection that inexorably drove her to return every so often, if only to see how much had changed in her absence.
From what she saw over the past few days, not much, yet that did little to temper her fondness for her place of birth.
That fondness had been severely challenged over the past few days, leaving Trixie on the cusp of pulling her mane out due to frustration.
“Such ungrateful little ponies,” Trixie grumbled bitterly, not even bothering to conceal her distaste as she pulled her wagon through the busy streets of Canterlot. Most ponies did well to stay out of the way, and the few that were not as quick received a death glare courtesy of her, prompting them to hurry along. The trip to the city gates was not long, but the crowd did her no favors in expediting her departure.
“What a bust. Trixie comes all this way, and for what? Just to get harassed and mistreated.”
She muttered similar things along the way, as well as multiple string of curses. She finally made it to the gate, the Royal Guards eyeing her as she passed them by. One she even recognized as the same one that wrote her a ticket a little while back. Something about knocking over a no parking sign with her wagon, she couldn’t really be bothered to remember. She paid them no mind however, refusing to even acknowledge them as she exited the city, mumbling obscenities the whole way.
It was likely going to be a good long while before Trixie deigned to ever return, regardless if it was her home or not. Hopefully when then that far off day arrived she would get the respect she deserved, and the audiences would be a little more appreciative of her talents. At least she was able to replenish her supplies during her stay.
In order to preserve what little good will that had not been sucked out of her, Trixie took to trying to forget about the whole ordeal entirely, instead thinking about where her next stop would be in her tour of Equestria. She mentally checked Canterlot off her list of visited locations. She had already been to Dodge Junction and Hoofington, as well as a few other, smaller hamlets. She had also been to Baltimare and Fillydelphia as well.
She supposed she could traverse the mountains and take her next performance to Hollow Shades, but that was quite a bit out of her way. Ponyville was a lot closer, being only two day trip at most across easy terrain. However, it also had much smaller population, which made for less profit, and the residents were rather. . . simple in Trixie’s humble opinion.
There was also Manehatten, which she had always meant to save for the end of her tour before Winter finally hit. The season was already fast approaching, and it would not be long before the factories in Cloudsadle starting churning out snow clouds. If Trixie went to Manehatten now, she could perhaps make it in time to beat the weather and even get a few of her shows up and running. After that she could ride out the weather in relative comfort.
With her mind made up, Trixie veered her wagon onto an old side road that ran parallel to a railroad track, following it down the mountain.
After a few hours of trekking dilapidated paths and overgrown dirt roads gone unused for months, perhaps even years, Trixie took note of the setting sun as the blue sky faded into a bright and colorful amalgamation of oranges and purples, and for a brief moment Trixie fancied that she had been transported into a painting.
She was tempted to keep going in spite of the coming night, but as the rich oranges and purples gave way to a dark blue star scape, and Celestia’s sun disappeared over the horizon, Trixie decided to call it a day and park her wagon off to the side next to a clump of trees, whereupon she stored away the harness and set about getting ready for bed.
With naught but the glow of an aging oil lamp to see by, Trixie sat on the small stool before her little mirror where she performed her nightly rituals, ensuring that she was presentable for the morning. A mare such as herself had to keep up appearances after all, no matter the circumstance. As such, her mane and tail were both full of curlers and she had just applied a bit of moisturizer to her turquoise coat. She was just about get something to address the stress induced wrinkles under her eyes when Trixie heard something.
It was a subtle noise, almost too quiet to even hear, yet Trixie still managed to pick it up as her ears went erect atop her head, and she paused in her selfcare.
She leaned over, looking out of the window to see if there was something outside. Nothing stirred, and Trixie returned to her rituals, thinking nothing of it.
In due time Trixie finished up. She blew out the light and pulled the covers over her body, ready to let herself be taken by the realm of sleep.
She heard the noise again, clearer this time. It sounded like the fluttering of a birds wings, but much more rapid.
Trixie sat up, her brow furrowing in mild alarm as she wondered what could possibly be lurking out there. “What is that?” she questioned. She waited for about a minute, the fur along her spine standing up due to her growing anxiety.
Again the noise sounded from outside, loud enough for Trixie to decide that it was most definitely not some inconsiderate bird causing the disturbance. To her, it sounded more like the fluttering wings of some enormous bug.
Something impacted on the side of the wagon, causing a dull thud to echo throughout the interior. With a gasped, Trixie jumped and her heart began to race.
“H-hello?” she called. “Who’s out there? Trixie demands to know!” She tried to keep up a brave and fearless tone, but she could not help but pull the covers up to her chin. She was shaking.
She heard a series of rhythmic tapping, above her head. Something was most definitely out there, scuttling atop her wagon.
Trixie decided that she’d had enough. What was she, some scared little filly? Anger replacing fear, Trixie’s horn lit up as she retrieved the wooden baseball bat from beneath her cot hold. It had served her well in the past in beating off some rather overzealous ponies; it would do the job if need be.
Throwing open the door, Trixie hopped outside into the cool night, a cone of light emanating from her horn. She looked at her wagon, scanning for whatever it was that dared keep her from her beauty sleep. Upon first inspection she did not see anything, but a flash of movement caught her attention. The thing had scurried away to the other side. She heard the fluttering of its wings as it attempted to escape. She chased after it, catching only a fleeting glimpse before it disappeared into the trees. Trixie cursed, upset that she had been unable to squash the thing, whatever it was. She did get a great look, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was indeed some form of large insect.
Hoping that it would freeze to death in the cold night, Trixie elected to cut her losses and just try to catch up with whatever sleep she lost, if she was even able to go back to sleep after the ordeal that is. Whatever that thing was, she was more than happy to just forget about it.
Just when Trixie was about to re-enter her wagon, she stopped. She found herself frozen to the spot, her hoof just inches away from the handle as a chill like the claws of death ran down her spine.
Nothing, except for a darkness that penetrated deep into the forest, an inky black fog that had settled between the trees.
Trixie lowered the bat as something took hold of her. She was not sure what that was. It may have been a simple yet morbid curiosity about what was in there. All Trixie knew was that, for some unknown reason that she could not readily explain, she felt strangely drawn to it.
Bat held at the ready, Trixie inched forward cautiously, unsure what could possibly be lurking within as the shadows descended upon her in an oppressive miasma. Was it always this dark at night? The glow of the moon and stars was completely gone, blotted out of by the shroud.
Little more than a few seconds into her ill-advised adventure, Trixie abruptly decided that she wanted nothing more to do with this unnatural phenomenon, as well as to pull her wagon somewhere else for the night. Preferably somewhere far away from here. She turned around to head back.
“What. . ?” she blurted out in surprise. “But. . . where. . ?”
She saw nothing. Nothing but the same oppressive darkness and the ghostly outlines of trees. She trotted forward, certain that she was going the way she came. A minute passed, and yet neither her wagon nor anything that could actually be called normal could be found.
“H-hello?” Trixie called out, her own voice sounding strangely hollow in her ears, like she speaking in a tunnel. “Is anypony there? Hello?!”
She quickened her pace, her anxious trot turning into a fear driven gallop. The only thing that kept from completely falling into a panic stricken state was her reasoning that as long as she kept going in a straight line, she would eventually find her way out of this unnatural phenomenon. Eventually. That was her hope at least, and then after that she would have a story to tell her future audiences. Just thinking about it was enough to lighten Trixie’s mood, if only a little. The tale would require some embellishment of course, maybe a battle with a titanic monster or two. Her getting lost did not make for stellar fables.
However, as the minutes passed, and the exit still seemed adamant in evading her, that hope was quickly wearing thin, and Trixie was not sure how much longer she could stand this until she finally-
Trixie skidded to a halt, her hooves digging into the earth. Any other time she would have fretting over all her work polishing them go to waste, but at the moment all of her attention was occupied by a rather odd sight, and her instincts were unable to tell her if she should be relieved at having finally found something, or profoundly worried.
Four objects rested in front of her, forming a small perimeter on the ground. They seemed to be made of stone or a material like it, and they were engraved with geometric patterns interwoven with swooping curves. Trixie was unable to discern what they were supposed to be, if anything, as they were completely foreign to her. She craned her head to get a better look, hesitant to step any closer until she had more information.
Upon more careful inspection, Trixie determined that the objects were actually fragments, pieces of a larger whole. Feeling a somewhat bold, Trixie inched closer. She was summarily startled out of her wits when the grass gave a crunch beneath her hooves, sounding far too loud in the silent gloom and causing her jump slightly.
“Eep!” she exclaimed. It took a moment to calm down and reassure herself she was in no immediate danger. “Come on Trixie,” she muttered, berating herself for her cowardice. “You can handle this. You’re the Great and Powerful Trixie after all! What have you to fear!”
Quite a bit actually, especially right at this moment, but she wasn’t going to admit that out loud. She looked at the fragments again. Remembering that she still had her bat,Trixie levitated it over to them, intending to give one of them a little nudge. Curiously though, when the bat came within about a foot of them, Trixie suddenly lost her hold on the spell, and the bat fell to the ground with a dull thump.
“Ooookay, that’s. . . concerning.”
Whatever these things were, they were obviously not natural. In the back of her mind, Trixie wondered if they were responsible for this darkness. Objects of such power did exist in the world, though she had never seen any for herself, and she most certainly did not expect to find said items just lying around in a forest barely a days’ trot from Canterlot.
They might even be worth a hefty sum of bits, which would go a long way towards funding her future shows.
Assuming that magic was out of the question in retrieving them, Trixie decided to just carry them by hoof. Before that, she took hold of her bat in fetlock, giving the largest fragment, a misshapen thing that seemed to almost stare at her with the eye engraved on its surface, a few little pokes.
Nothing seemed to happen, so she decided it was safe enough to touch them. Already thinking of what she would do with her bits, Trixie reached out a hoof and touched the fragment.
Pain.
Pain like a burning fire raced up her limb, spreading throughout her body before settling into a frigid agony. She couldn’t even scream. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but her voice died somewhere within her throat. All that came out was a choked gasp.
She could hear it. It was speaking to her.
They were speaking to her.
Give us form.
Steadily, Trixie felt her body begin to twist upon itself, her bones snapping and moving beneath her flesh. The darkness that surrounding her congealed around her form, adding more mass to the wreck that was her body.
Give us focus.
She could not feel it though. In fact, she barely noticed it was even happening. Whether it was from shock or the fact that her own mind began to fade out from her now misshapen, mutilated body, as if she were being pulled out of it. She could only watch as. . . something else that she could not describe, took her place.
Retrieve for us our light.
At last Trixie could scream, but it did not sound right. It was not her voice that she heard, but rather something like the mournful keen of a dying animal. She wanted to stop but found that she couldn’t. She was now helpless in her own body, reduced to little more than passive observer. She did not like what she saw. She had no more choice in the matter though.
Retrieve for us our lost goddess.
Author's Note
. . . Oh dear.
Having finally found their way out of the public park and into the more familiar setting of stone buildings and cobblestone streets, Astrid took the time to look around a bit as they walked. The area they were in had a more rural feeling to it, as opposed to the marble structures farther towards where Astrid assumed the center of the city was located. She actually preferred it, if she were completely honest.
Quite a few ponies noticed the duo. Conversations paused and curious stares followed the two, making Astrid nervous when their gazes lingered on her specifically. She just hoped the fact that she was accompanied by Sterling would be enough to dissuade them from getting too suspicious of her.
Even so, she hung just a little bit closer to the pinto colt, somewhat appreciative of the escort.
During their trek Astrid found herself wondering what sort of pony Sterling’s instructor was like. From what she was able to glean from their rather one-sided conversation, his tutor was a stern sort of mare, with little to no tolerance for lackluster effort in her work.
For some odd reason, Astrid could not help but think of her second-grade math teacher. The mental image of that crotchety old bat in the form of miniature horse creature was incredibly amusing to her, and she had to stifle her laughter. Hearing her mirth in spite of her attempts to mask it, Sterling looked at her quizzically as they walked. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
Astrid waved off the question, acting like it was no big deal yet was still unable to wipe the amused grin off her face. “Sorry, it’s nothing,” she said.
Sterling quirked his head, his lanky mane spilling around his face as she was reminded that he still could not understand her, for some strange reason that she had yet to work out. He seemed to comprehend the simplicity of her reply, choosing not to pursue the matter with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Huh, alright then. Anyway, as I was saying, I think you’ll actually like my tutor,” he said, continuing on with his conversation. “I mean, sure she can seem a little. . . aloof I think is the right word? I think that’s it.” He shook his head. “Eh, doesn’t matter. The point is I just think you might actually like her, so long as you don’t let her get under your fur.”
“I don’t have fur.”
Unaware of what Astrid said, Sterling added with a hint of caution in his tone, “Just, uh, let me introduce you alright? She doesn’t normally like surprise guests, especially when she in the middle of her work.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Astrid replied with a nonchalant shrug, although in truth she was starting to feel increasingly worried the more she learned about this mare. She didn’t get her name since Sterling was apparently feeling coy, although he likely didn’t mean to. Astrid wondered if she would be better off just ditching Sterling now while she could and avoid the hassle if she was just running the risk of being chased off anyway. As much as she disliked leaving the colt like that, she found the possibility of a rebuttal even more distasteful. If she left on her own, at least then it would be on her terms, however much that mattered anymore.
In the middle of her internal debate Astrid suddenly realized what she was thinking, and she scolded herself for such thoughts. How could she be so persistently pessimistic after accepting Sterling’s offer? Her experiences with the ponies weren't the best, but that did not mean she should actively cut all ties with them altogether because of a few unwanted mishaps.
Better to give Sterling the benefit of the doubt she decided. If she was welcome, then at least she would be out of the cold and not have to sleep on the pavement anymore. And if not, well then nothing would have changed, and she would continue on her mission of finding a way home. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Astrid jolted when she realized that Sterling was actually speaking to her during her period of introspection.
“Good, ‘cause my tutor’s house is just over here. Come on.” With that he rushed forward, leaving Astrid to catch up with him. A minute later they came upon a domicile that stood out quite markedly from the surrounding neighborhood. For one thing, it had a much higher focus on wood and quartered stone, as opposed to the slabs of carved marble the majority of the city seemed to be made of, looking more like a house one would find sequestered in the woods somewhere.
Second, it was terribly run down. The grass in the front yard had obviously gone for quite a while without any care, and a low stone wall that surrounded the small property was aged and sprouting weeds from between its many gaps. As for the house itself. . . it had seen better days, and that was all Astrid was going to say about it.
Astrid began to suspect that maybe they were in the wrong place, and that Sterling had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. She found out she was incorrect in her assumption when Sterling announced, “Here we are,” and pushed the gate open. A loud screech emanated from long neglected hinges. Astrid cringed in discomfort at the sound, forcing her to cover her long ears with her hands until it stopped. How Sterling seemed not to mind the dreadful din was beyond her.
“I take she doesn’t believe in Spring cleaning,” she muttered, caring little if Sterling heard her or not.
Trotting up to the front door with Astrid in tow, the two disturbed quite a number of dandelions, spreading their seeds across the already heavily unkempt lawn. Sterling knocked tenderly, as if he were afraid to break it. Considering how old it looked, Astrid would not be surprised if it crumbled into splinters right there.
“Are we really in the right place?” Astrid wondered as she took in the sorry state of the property, finding it difficult to believe Sterling’s tutor would willingly live in a dump such as this. The answer to her question came in the form of muffled hoofsteps from inside, accompanied by the crash of something falling over. Behind the door Astrid heard someone heatedly swearing. Sterling’s ears fell back, and he scratched at his fetlock. The fact that he was nervous did no favors in assuaging Astrid’s own reservations.
A series of locks clicked, and the door opened with a harsh squeal, its hinges in desperate need of oil. Inside, looking rather tired and very irate at having been disturbed, stood a cream colored, bespectacled unicorn mare in a black turtleneck sweater. Her magenta mane looked almost as unruly as Astrid’s, with only the bare minimum of effort made to keep it in line, having been tied up into a little bun atop her head. She looked around, searching the premises for whoever would be so rude as to disturb her, until she caught sight of the colt standing in front of her.
“Hello, miss Moondancer,” Sterling said. While the effort he put in to making the greeting seem like he was not incredibly anxious from being late to meet her was admirable, even Astrid could plainly tell that the mare, now identified as Moondancer, was having absolutely none of it.
Looking like she had just woken up from a too short nap, Moondancer sighed in obvious disappointment. Addressing the colt, she said, “Sterling, how many times do I have to say it before you’ll finally get it into your head? You can’t just show up whenever you happen to feel like it.” Gesturing to the interior of the house she continued to berate him. “Don’t you see how late it is? Everypony else has already gone home, and here you are acting like it’s no big deal.”
Dipping his head, Sterling spoke dejectedly. “I’m sorry miss Moondancer. It won’t happen again.”
“How many times have I heard that now?” Moondancer said quietly, barely loud enough for Astrid to pick up. The way she spoke indicated that this was not the first time this had occurred, she thought while she waited for the mare to inevitably notice her presence. Sighing again, she added, “That’s not important right now. I’ll discuss it with your guardian later. I take it you’re here to return your. . . books. . .”
Moondancer trailed off as her gaze slid over to Astrid, her expression turning pensive. Astrid shifted uneasily as a tense silence settled over them. The mare blinked, and her horn lit up briefly in a pink glow as her glasses readjusted themselves upon her muzzle. Her sight shifted between the two a few times. Astrid could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she attempted to puzzle out the situation. Finally, she spoke. “Um. . . Sterling? Who’s this?”
“Huh?” Sterling uttered, having apparently forgotten the one reason he goaded Astrid into tagging along with him. Astrid shook her head, pinching the bridge of her small nose. Following his tutor’s line of sight Sterling finally realized his error. “Oh, right!” he exclaimed, his downcast demeanor being replaced by borderline excitement. He gestured towards Astrid. “S-sorry. Um, miss Moondancer, I realize that there’s not a whole lot I can do to make up for my tardiness. . . again. But I have a good reason why I’m late this time.”
“I think I can hazard a guess.”
Astrid herself was unsure of what was going on in the mares’ head; her expression was unreadable, ranging somewhere between inquisitiveness and wariness. Placing a hoof around Astrid shoulder and pulling her close, Sterling looked excited to the point of bursting as he began regaling Moondancer with his tale. Or at least, he attempted to, until he found himself cut off when the mare put her hoof to his mouth, silencing him before he could even start.
She scanned their surroundings, seemingly to ensure no one was looking their way, then said, “How about we take this inside?”
Sitting on an old couch, freshly cleared of the mountains of books stacked upon it, Astrid did her best to look as polite and nonthreatening as possible. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap, her thin legs were crossed demurely, and she made absolutely sure to avoid eye contact as much as possible. There was no question that Moondancer had already seen her crimson eyes, especially considering the mare was seated directly across from her on a little wooden rocking chair, where she continued to scrutinize the girl with an unwavering stare. Nevertheless, Astrid was not willing to risk holding her gaze, sparing only brief glances at their host.
Sterling sat next to her, munching on a bagel offered to him by Moondancer. He apparently had next to no concept of decorum, as he attempted to talk and eat at the same time. Moondancer seemed not to mind him getting crumbs all over the place, at least not enough to stop looking at Astrid, as he regaled her with the events that led to their meeting.
Astrid minded though, and scooted away from just a bit, absentmindedly gnawing away at her own bagel. She fought the temptation to dive forward and shove her face into the bowl, placed invitingly on the small coffee table and containing a tantalizing amount of assorted loaves, too nervous to let her empty belly get the better of her. The fact Moondancer offered it to her at all was enough for her to rest easy knowing she was not going to just be tossed out, but she refrained from getting her hopes too high. It was rather dry, she noted as she bit into it, not to mention a bit heavy on spices. Oddly content to distract herself with such a banal observation while Sterling talked, Astrid simply sat and waited.
“So anyway, that’s when she jumped in, and threw Glim into the river instead,” Sterling explained, his mouth full. “After that, I thought it would be nice to offer to let her tag along so you could meet her. I’d tell you her name but, uh. . . I can’t really say it all that well.”
Astrid groaned, rolling her eyes a bit as she took another bite out of her bagel.
Even though she nodded her head, it seemed to Astrid that Moondancer had difficulty following Sterling’s story. She could hardly blame the mare either, as the colt had a habit of jumping between different points, not to mention lacing certain parts with copious amounts of hyperbole. For one, Astrid absolutely did not recall Glim having an army of twenty foals with her, but was not under any inclination to dispute it.
“Uh huh,” Moondancer uttered in vague understanding now that Sterling had finally finished. She looked incredibly confused as she tried to wrap her head around what she just heard. Astrid found herself having the same issue, and she was there. She then mentioned, “Hold on, you said she chased off the other foals, right? Then why are you still soaking wet?”
“Oh, that’s because I jumped in myself,” Sterling answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Moondancer on the other hand did not seem to think so, her brow furrowing and her mouth forming a small circle. She looked to Astrid in question, who could only offer a shrug in consolation. At least they were both confused.
“Let it go, down that path lies madness,” Astrid declared. Moondancer quirked an eyebrow at, reminding Astrid of the one way language barrier between them. Wisely choosing not to pursue the matter, Moondancer let out a terse groan, rubbing her eyes. She sat in silence for a little while in thought, until she addressed Sterling.
“Sterling,” she said. Her tone worried Astrid. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
Hearing those words, Astrid felt her heart beat just a little faster in her chest, thinking about all the possible implications behind them. Her imagination started to work overtime in her head, coming up with all sorts of undesirable scenarios, ranging from banishment to imprisonment to some odd combination of the two. She looked to Sterling, and saw that he looked just as concerned as she felt.
Noticing their hesitation Moondancer quickly said in as soothing a manner as she could, “Oh, y-you don’t have to worry, you’re not in trouble or anything. There’s just a few things I want to discuss and clear up. Alright?”
Again, the two looked at each other, their worries unabated but unable to anything about them. “Okay,” Sterling answered timorously, hopping off the couch and following Moondancer into the next room, leaving Astrid to wonder what she was going to do in the meantime.
That worry was put to rest when Moondancer paused to address her, uncertainty evident in her mannerisms. “Um, feel free to look around if you like,” she said. “Just be careful not to break anything.” With that, she disappeared through the threshold.
Once both ponies were gone, and she was left to her own devices, Astrid lunged forward, grabbing as many bagels as she could before cramming them into her mouth, decorum now a long forgotten concern of hers. Within minutes, she had emptied the entire bowl, whereupon she breathed in relieved contentment.
Now that she was no longer as concerned with starving for the time being, Astrid decided to take Moondancer up on her offer, and began wandering around the living room. She found that option a bit more palatable than fretting over whatever they were discussing in the other room, their conversation no doubt concerning her.
She could hear them, but was unable to make out anything clearly, picking up a few scant words that had no meaning on their own. It frustrated her to no end, not knowing whether or not-
Astrid stopped herself before she could finish the thought. Getting herself worked up over something she had little control over would not help anything. The best she could do at the moment was just hope for the best, and take the blows as they came. It was the only way she was going to get herself out of this mess.
‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it though,’ Astrid thought to herself, grumbling about her misfortunes while she explored the interior of Moondancer’s home.
From the moment Astrid had first stepped inside, it was abundantly clear to Astrid that the mare, while clearly very well educated, lived a very disorganized lifestyle. Everywhere Astrid looked she could see that all available bits of space were taken up by piles of clutter. The mess consisted largely of books and scrolls, stacked up to heights that looked far too precarious, prompting her to stay clear for fear of knocking them over. Astrid supposed the sheer amount of literature lent some credence to Mondancer being a tutor as Sterling claimed. Nevertheless, Astrid would have thought someone working in such a profession would have a lifestyle to reflect it. Maybe that was a normal occurrence in this world?
Strolling up to the fireplace, a weathered piece of architecture that looked to have gone unused for years, Astrid saw a row of pictures set atop the mantle. She noticed a number of them had been turned over, hiding the photographs from view. The only ones Astrid saw were of Moondancer herself, and what looked like family members. She wondered if they were accidentally knocked over, or intentionally placed that way.
A pang of homesickness settled on Astrid’s heart, causing it to ache a little within her chest. She turned away from the pictures. Whatever the case, Moondancer clearly felt no need to fix them, and Astrid decided to leave them be as she moved on.
Pushed into the corner of the room was an old looking phonograph with a collection of records stacked next to it. Curious, she started ambling towards them to see what sorts of music talking horse creatures listened to.
“Wonder if they have the Beatles,” she thought aloud, somewhat mirthfully. Seeing the records, it appeared that Moondancer had nothing resembling any bands from her home. Picking one up, Astrid wiped away the layer of dust that had accumulated on its surface, disappointed that she was still unable to read the stylized words printed upon it.
Hoping that Moondancer would not mind, Astrid stacked a number of books for her to stand on, making up for her height as she removed the vinyl disc from its packaging, then delicately set it into the turntable.
“Now how does this thing work?” she mumbled.
In the two and half years since she had taken on the profession of being a part time tutor and substitute teacher, Moondancer had learned to expect a number of things from her students. Her experiences with foals, particular the group she was with for this semester, had taught her to almost never point her hopes on things going smoothly. Ever.
Before Sterling had even arrived, she had to deal with her other two charges and their antics, and had since gained a newfound hatred for bubblegum getting stuck in ones mane. That reminded her, she had to ban the accursed substance from all future sessions from now on.
She had also learned to always plan for tardiness, as it was quickly becoming apparent to Moondancer that fillies and colts had a special talent for dragging their hooves to any event regarding their education. As such, after consulting with their parents she had seen fit to cobble together a package which she could give to them if they happened to show up late, or even not at all, so long as it was returned. Sterling was a particularly big offender in this category, and Moondancer was starting to become rather worried for the colt. She was glad that he had least told her why he was late this time, and so was willing to let the issue slide. This time at least. If it happened again, she resolved to speak with his guardian about the matter.
However, one thing that Moondancer had yet to truly understand, and thus account for, was a foals ability to completely stupefy any adult with their actions. Moondancer was currently suffering from such bewilderment, and was unsure how exactly to word her thoughts in a way that Sterling would properly understand.
“So, Sterling,” she began, hoping that she was not coming off as condescending to him. She could tell he was already quite nervous as he stood before her, his ears pressed against his head. Attempting to assuage any fears he had, she said, “I just want to say again that you are not in any trouble, alright?”
“Okay,” he answered with a terse nod. She noticed that he had yet to trim his mane, as it hung down over his eyes, but chose not to point it out.
“That being said though,” she added, “I did want to ask you a few things about your, uh. . .” Moondancer peeked around the corner, confirming that her unexpected guest was not causing any trouble. “Your new friend. Do you know anything about her, like her name?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Sterling answered reluctantly, “Eh, not exactly to be honest.”
“What do you mean? Does she talk to you?”
“Oh no, she does talk, it’s just I don't understand a word she says. And it’s weird too, because I’m pretty she knows what I say just fine, it just doesn’t work the other way, you know?”
Moondancer blinked, thrown for a bit of a loop. She recalled Sterling’s friend saying something to her earlier, but merely assumed she had misheard when she didn’t understand. The poor. . . imp? She was reasonably sure she was an imp, although Moondancer’s studies on obscure creatures were a little lacking. Whoever or whatever she was, she looked so shy that the mare did not expect her to actually say anything, and thus had been caught off guard by the alien words. However, what Sterling told her confirmed it was not just her own inattention at work, but that his friend was speaking in an entirely different language altogether. Perhaps if she heard more, she could properly identify it.
Moondacer was startled out of her thoughts when gentle notes of music floated in from the other room. Concern for her possessions welling up within her, she hurried over to see what was going on, anticipating to find a mess. That was not to say her living room was not already a mess, but it was an organized mess, and she preferred to keep it as such.
Moondancer could barely remember the last time she had used it, as soothing jazz emanated from the device, the otherwise smooth notes contrasting with the grainy static of the phonograph. Hearing it now after it had been rendered dormant. . . it dredged up memories that she would rather forget. Before she even knew it, Moondancer had opened her mouth to tell the imp to cut it out and leave her things alone. However, the words never left her lips, unable to bring herself to scold the imp for something so inconsequential as listening to music from yesteryear. Not to mention Moondancer had already given her permission to look around so long as nothing was damaged. It did little to serve her to go back on that.
Besides, the imp seemed to be enjoying it judging from the way she bobbed her head slightly in time with the music. She clearly had taste, Moondancer had to admit that much. As she watched, still trying to make up her mind on how she was going to handle Sterling and his friend, she caught of something hanging around the imps neck; a pendant depicting some sort of winged creature that the imp twirled it around in her obsidian fingers.
She seemed to be lost in thought, as she had yet to notice Moondancer’s presence. The mare decided to keep it that way, refraining from disturbing the imp as she retreated back into the kitchen. Sterling peered over, interested by the music.
“Is that Hoofstrong?” he asked excitedly. “I didn’t know you were a fan miss Moondancer.”
“I’m not,” she replied, a bit more forcefully than she meant to. “It’s just some stuff from way back when. . .” Realizing she was going off on a tangent, Moondancer shook away the memories before they could resurface, attempting to get back to matter at hoof. “Sterling,” she said in a very no-nonsense tone. “I can see why you would feel inclined to be grateful to your new friend out there, but forgive me for finding it hard to believe that you would bring her all the way to my house just so I could meet her. It seems like a lot of trouble to go through. Is there something going on?”
At this, Sterling’s head lowered. His mouth worked a few times, as though he were having difficulty finding the words to answer her. Seeing his struggle, Moondancer lowered herself down to the floor where was eye level with him. Doing her best to convey her concern to the obviously nervous colt, she said, “Sterling, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. Is it about those bullies? Because I can-“
“It’s not them, okay?” he said suddenly, surprising her a bit from the tone he used. Something about the way he said it did not convince Moondancer that he was telling the truth, at least not all of it. Even through his uncut mane, she could tell that he was extremely hesitant to speak about it. Before she could push him to come clean he added, “It’s just. . . when she helped me out, my friend, I started talking with her, as much as I could anyways. I just wanted to thank her and let her let go home, and I. . .” He trailed off, nervously tapping his hoof on the floor.
“Yes?” Moondancer goaded gently, hoping she was not being to pushy.
Sterling heaved a great sigh, his shoulders rising and falling from the action. “I. . . said something to her, and when I looked at her, she. . . she just. . .” Moondancer leaned her head forward, her mind racing with all sorts of possibilities, almost none of them good, and she began to worry that maybe the imp had done something to him. Celestia knows the poor colt didn’t another bully on his back. Finally, Sterling seemed to gather his courage, although he nevertheless leaned over, presumably to gauge whether they were being spied upon before he said to her, “Miss Moondancer. . . I don’t think she’s got a family.”
Moondancer blinked, and for what felt like the third time in the span of about twenty minutes, her mind was going into overtime in attempting to process what the young colt just told her. Out of all the things she expected to hear, that was very low on the list.
No family?
Pieces in Moondancer’s mind began to slowly fall into place. Aspects she had been attempting to discern about the imp became clear now, such as her outwardly timid nature and her rough appearance, ranging from her blemished gown to the scuffs and bruises on her obsidian skin. To imagine what she must have been through. . . Moondancer prided herself on being able to look at most situations with an air of detachment; it helped her to see things objectively without the need for personal involvement, but if what she just heard was true. . . it was almost enough to make her rush into the next room and do whatever she could to comfort the imp. Through sheer force of will she remained steadfastly rooted in place before Sterling.
“Are you sure?” she questioned. He gave a terse nod; unneeded, as the look in eyes was answer enough. She sighed heavily, removing her glasses as she felt the onset of an approaching migraine, and she put a hoof to her head, futilely attempting to both assuage it as well as decide what to do about this revelation. She was drawing a complete blank. She had no point of reference to go from, and she doubted finding one in any of her books.
“What should we do miss Moondancer?” Sterling asked, his question doing little to steer her thoughts in any coherent direction. Moondancer looked at the colt. The emotion in his eyes was palpable, and instantly she understood his desire to help his new friend. She found it quite admirable. She had no answer for him, at least not yet. She needed time to think.
“But what about-“
“Sterling,” she said sternly, standing up as her glasses floated back onto her snout. “Don’t worry. I will take care of this, alright? I’ll keep an eye on her, and figure out what I can. You’ve done enough for today.”
Sterling held her gaze for a moment, but she was not going to compromise on this sort of matter. Eventually, with a heartfelt sigh he relented, dipping his head in admonishment. Trying to comfort him, Moondancer sidled up next to him, placing a hoof over his withers. “Hey,” she said. “You’re coming back tomorrow; you’ll get to see her again. You can even introduce her to your other friends. Eh?”
“Yeah. . . sure,” he answered unenthusiastically, slowly plodding away from her. Moondancer followed after him into the living room.
Moondancer picked up the distinct patter of little feet rushing away. Sterling did not seem to notice though, and when they entered the living room they found imp laying on the couch, casually inspecting the little spikes on her forearms. Moondancer was not fooled for a second into believing she had not been listening in on them, but she could hardly bring herself to fault her for the act.
Moondancer ensured that goodbyes were kept brief as Sterling retrieved his saddlebag, making assurances that all would be well under her watch. Truthfully Moondancer had not the slightest clue on how to proceed, and could only come up with half baked promises that she was not sure if she could even keep. It was all she had at the moment.
“Goodnight miss Moondancer,” he called. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that the colt trotted off towards his home. As Moondancer watched him go she started to imagine the look on Lilac’s face when he told her about his ordeals that day, and the thought brought a wry grin to her muzzle. The moment passed, and a tired sigh escaped her lips as she shut the door.
The imp sat patiently on the couch, her crimson eyes flicking to Moondancer every few seconds. She tried to hide her nervousness, but the brave façade was for naught as her anxiety was all too apparent to the mare. She was visibly shaking, appearing ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Hoping to set whatever fears she undoubtedly had at ease before the poor thing gave herself a heart attack, Moondancer trotted over.
“So,” she began uncertainly, scratching at her fetlocks. She disliked small talk, on account of never being any good at it. “I’m, uh, sure that you’ve had a long day.”
A small nod was all she got in response. Although the reply was nonverbal, it did confirm for her that the imp did indeed understand at least most of what she said as Sterling had mentioned. However, the revelation did little to alleviate the uncomfortable silence that followed soon afterward, and Moondancer tried to think of something else to say to break the ice.
Once again, she noticed the pendant hanging above her dirty gown. the imp fiddled with it in her fingers, giving her a clearer view of it; a series of silvery bands wrapping around a set of glittering white gemstones, forming into a winged creature of some sort. Judging from the way the imp held it, Moondancer guessed that it either served some sort of religious purpose, or perhaps was an object of great sentiment for her. She was tempted to ask about it, but refrained for fear of being too forward.
She looked at the empty bowl on the table. “Are you hungry?” she asked. The imp looked at her, causing Moondancer to flinch upon meeting her crimson eyes. She took a moment to think the question over, before responding with a quick shake of her head. She wondered if the imp was afraid of imposing on her, but chose not press the issue. She was actually glad she declined, as it was only then that she recalled she did not have a lot to offer. By that she of course meant that it had been weeks since Moondancer had seen fit go shopping for. . . anything really; those bagels were about all she had left in her pantry.
“That’s fine,” she replied uneasily. “That’s okay, you don’t need to worry about that.”
Moondancer mentally kicked herself, hating how inexperienced she was at this sort of thing. Bordering on the edge of desperation she scoured her brain for anything she could do to alleviate the awkward tenseness, until finally a thought occurred to her. Sitting on her haunches, Moondancer put on a friendly smile. “You know what? I just remembered something.” She scooted a bit closer to the imp, receiving an apprehensive look. Moondancer decided to ignore it. “I just realized that I never properly introduced myself, what with having to deal with Sterling and all.” She paused to clear her throat, then said while placing a hoof to her chest, “My name is Moondancer. You obviously already knew that, but you know how it is. Formalities and such, right?”
The imp, still eyeing her warily, nodded in mock comprehension. Again, Moondancer inched just a little bit closer, her objective being to put the imp at ease. It seemed to work, if only slightly. At least she was not shivering in fright anymore. Moondancer would take what she could get though. “So, now that I’ve introduced myself, would you like to tell me your name?”
The imp eyed her, seeming to gauge whether she wanted to reply; while Moondancer waited in silent apprehensively, doing her best to be patient. Her natural curiosity in the strange and unknown had started to take hold, overriding her previous state of nervous caution. She admittedly found the prospect to of hearing the imps’ language to be an exciting one, circumstances notwithstanding, and pondered if she might be able to understand what Sterling could not. After all, she had studied hundreds of different languages and dialects across Equestria. She was even fluent in a few of them. Surely at some point throughout her extensive studies she had to have come across something resembling resembling the imps spoken language.
The imp cleared her throat, and Moondancer leaned in close, listening intently.
“Usediraki aniesnish aheamano ninshata. Aberead iatirish, agnesam iraka aw ka ustadukay odoherod go ores.”
Moondancer’s mind drew a complete blank as her years of extensive studying in the field of language failed her utterly, and it showed as her mouth hung open in misguided comprehension.
Seeming to sympathize with her, the imp added, “Ehe, Atta kana womo aw osaw Ishita.”
Groaning in exhausted frustration, Moondancer proceeded to silently curse her vast sum of knowledge. What good were multiple degrees in mathematics, language and fine arts if it didn’t help her understand the vague mutterings of this one lost imp? She removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes with a fetlock. How long had it been since she had decent night of sleep? Her headache was doing a number on her, and recent developments were doing her no favors.
When she looked up, Moondancer noticed that the imp looked just as much, if not more drained than she felt. For the first time it occurred to the mare just how exhausted the imp must be, judging by the way her eyelids drooped. She wasn’t even looking at Moondancer anymore, favoring the floor to settle her gaze upon. She opened her mouth, and a tired yawn escaped her maw, startling the mare a little when she caught sight of sharpened fangs. She shuddered to think of the damage they could do if the imp felt inclined to bite somepony. Maybe she shouldn’t have-
Moondancer discarded the thought, casting it aside as no more than her just being skittish. She needed help, and it was up to her to provide, no matter her reservations. Glancing at the clock and realizing how late in the day it was, she asked, “You must be tired, huh?”
The imp binked at the question, drawn-out action that only highlighted her exhaustion. She answered with a simple utterance of, “Ni oji.” Despite her unfamiliarity with the imps’ tongue, Moondancer felt she could hazard a pretty good guess at what they meant, and she nodded.
“Wait here,” she said to her guest, standing up to walk down the hall leading to her bedroom. She returned soon afterward with a bundle of blankets floating in her magical grasp, finding the imp looking down at her necklace, deep in thought while she brushed at it with her thumb. Even from this angle Moondancer could practically see the turmoil going through her head, prompting her to wonder what she had gone through to end up here.
She decided to file the dilemma away for later. Now was not the time.
Within moments Moondancer had arranged the couch into a makeshift bed. The imp watched her curiously the whole time, and when Moondancer finished setting it up she eyed the sheets in question, looking at them as if they were about to jump out and bite her.
“Well, that’s the best I can do right now.” Moondancer sighed upon making the statement. She did have guest room next to her own, but it was so cluttered it had been rendered completely unusable. Before she could say anything else, she noticed that the imp was now looking straight at her, and again Moondancer felt her insides squirm at the sight of them. She wanted to scold herself for the feeling, knowing that it was through no fault of the imp, it was just how she was. Nevertheless, the mare had to consciously resist the urge to look away.
However, the more Moondancer held her gaze, the more she saw the amount of raw emotion in the imps’ blood red eyes. Moondancer never fancied herself to be an expert on reading emotions, seeing little value in the skill, but even with her inexperience she saw many things, some made all the more apparent when she spoke.
“Atisha miazogo tagira.”
Their meaning was obviousness to Moondancer, and she could plainly hear the gratitude in the imps oddly hollow voice; it was a sincere, yet even she could feel the sadness and fear that laid just hidden beneath their thankful disguise.
Moondancer cleared her throat. “Yes, well um, if you need anything, I’m just down the hall. I do have a bit of work I need to get done, so I’ll be up for a while yet.” With that, Moondancer turned around, almost forgetting to grab Sterling’s returned books as she made her way to her room. She set the books on her desk, placed in front of a window that afforded her a lovely view of the neighbors’ wall. They needed to be graded by tomorrow, a process that would take a number of hours before Moondancer could finally lay her head down to sleep. She felt very little inclination to get started just yet though, her thoughts refusing to settle down and rest. She peeked outside her door.
For a long while the imp simply stood there, unmoving before the makeshift bed, her face hidden behind her unruly orange mane. All was silent save for Moondancer’s breath in her own ears. Her slim shoulders heaved, and the mare overheard a choked gasp.
She couldn’t take anymore, and she closed the door with a soft click, hating herself for not knowing what to do.
She ambled over to her desk, resting her head next to Sterling’s books with a dull thunk.
What could she do about this? What experience did she have that she could draw upon for help? For all of the books and tomes and scrolls that Moondancer had accumulated throughout the years, she felt completely and utterly useless. It was not a new feeling, unfortunately.
“What am I gonna do?”
Lifting her head, her weariness tempted her into just going to bed, to deal with all of. . . this in the morning. She couldn’t though, not while there was still work to be graded and a broken soul in her living room.
An idea wormed its way into her head, forcing Moondancer to turn her sights over to the small nightstand next to her unkempt bed. A picture frame rested upon it, which Moondancer regarded with no small amount of apprehension. She disliked the idea in her head, almost to the point where she felt compelled to turn it over in frustration.
She could not do this on her own though. She needed help, and right then she had no better option. Exhaling through her nose, Moondancer made her decision. It would have to wait until tomorrow though. Right now, there was schoolwork to look over, and she began flipping through Sterling’s notes.
She uttered a tight lipped groan upon finding that nearly all of the pages were wet.
Astrid looked at the arrangement of blankets, regarding them bleakly. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, hoping to let her breath take her anguish and fear with it. It helped, but not enough. She doubted it would ever be enough.
Even as she thought about it, Astrid’s breath caught in her throat. She clutched at her chest, her heart threatening to crumble like burnt parchment.
The way Moondancer looked at her. . .
Astrid stifled her sobs before they began, refusing to give in to her heartbreak. Despite her attempts, her eyes watered profusely as teardrops fell to wooden floor below, pooling into a small puddle between her feet. Minutes passed during her struggle, until finally she prevailed against herself. Breathing deeply, Astrid felt her gaze drawn to the front door.
Before she even knew what she was doing, Astrid found herself standing before it, her hand reaching upward to turn the knob. She stopped herself, then proceeded to question why she did so. It’s not like she was truly welcome here, considering how she looked to the ponies.
She wanted to hate them, to hate Sterling, to hate Moondancer and every single other weird talking horse thing that looked at her like she was diseased. It would have been easier if she did not hate herself just as much.
Again, she reached for the doorknob, her aching heart telling her that if she did not leave of her own accord then she would only end up being rejected anyway.
Her own father had cast her out; what chance did she have with them?
As soon as the notion invaded her thoughts, Astrid froze, wondering where it had come from. She retracted her hand, clutching it as though it were injured. She backpedaled away from the door, at last realizing the dark turn her mind had taken.
What was she doing?! Was she really going to willingly condemn herself to self-imposed isolation, knowing that doing so was to spit on the kindness that Sterling and Moondancer had offered her? What did that say about her? Had she really fallen so far?
Astrid shook her head, clearing it of all the evil thoughts that had taken root, recognizing where they would eventually lead her. They scared her, and she did not like it.
It was hard, but Astrid reaffirmed within herself the goal of going home. As slim as the hope was, until such time as there was nothing left for her to do, Astrid would keep going. She had to, if for no other reason than to spite fate.
Taking a long while to gather herself, Astrid returned to the bed Moondancer had made for her. She touched the blankets, assessing their make. They were old and well worn, leaving them somewhat coarse upon her skin. They felt like heaven considering her previous state of affairs, and Astrid felt her heart lighten a little with gratitude.
Tucking her small body underneath the covers, it did not take long for Astrid to close her eyes, drifting into an uneasy slumber. Visions of her home and a piercing eye of stone plagued her dreams.
Author's Note
Hello all, and welcome back to yet another chapter of Eventide. I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and you can credit both Babroniedad and Shimmer for looking it over and clearing out any major errors.
When the warm rays of dawn began to stream over the mountain peaks, appearing like gilded ribbons spanning the length of the sky, it brought with it a crisp breeze that swept over the hills and forests of Equestria. The layer of frost that had accumulated overnight, blanketing the land in thin coat of ice, soon melted away as Celestia’s sun rose over the peaks, taking the place of its nighttime counterpart and marking the start of a new day.
Cinnamon Garcia hardly felt any inclination to appreciate the scenery however as it sped by in a blur of green outside the window, her attention focused mainly on the collection of papers laid out before her on the opposite seat. She had spent nearly the entire night of the trip reviewing them making sure that each one was up to date and presentable, and as a result she felt ready to drop at any moment. She was tempted to give in to the weaknesses of her flesh, to lean back into the seat and let herself doze off and make up for the nearly twenty or so hours she had been awake. Or was it twenty-five? She paused in her work to retrieve the time piece in her suitcase, found it to be unreadable due to her overworked mind, and returned to looking over the papers.
The other passengers were not helping with her concentration no matter how much she glared at them. Their conversations were minimal, yet still loud enough to where she found it to be a grating distraction, causing her to grumble whenever she lost her focus. The foals were the worst; perpetually energetic little nuisances that had yet to have drilled in them the concept of indoor voices, not to mention personal space.
A duo of foals galloped past her, giggling and hollering as they chased each other across the passenger cars, causing the pegasus mare to grit her teeth, resisting the urge to tell them to bugger off. Cinnamon’s only reprieve was when their noisome antics carried over to one of the other cars, where the unlucky ponies in there could be entertained by their horseplay, allowing her at least a few minutes of peace.
“Tomfoolery,” the aging mare muttered darkly to herself, refocusing on the task at hoof. She had to make sure the numbers and figures laid out before her were correct. Her employer expected them to them be ready by her arrival, and she was determined to make it so. She had already spent the last several weeks making sure that her trip to Canterlot was going to be a successful venture, she could not afford to screw it up now.
The pair of sparkly blue eyes peering at her from the seats in front of her might though. Cinnamon looked up at the foal, then back at her papers, trying to ignore him. A few moments later she looked up again, only to find that the foal had yet to understand her need for basic privacy, a concept that children in general seemed to care little about.
Starting to become fed up with her unwanted audience, Cinnamon grumbled, “Young colt, don’t you think it’s rude to stare at somepony while they’re working?”
The eyes blinked at her, clearly not comprehending. “Whatchu doin’?” a tinny voice asked, young enough to sound like the colt only recently started to learn the basic intricacies of vowels.
Rolling her eyes, Cinnamon responded gruffly, “Attempting to sort out these papers, and you looking at me while I do that is not helping me.”
“Can I help?”
“Yes, you can help by not bothering me, thank you,” she bit back.
“You’re welcome!” he replied happily, then proceeded to hop off his seat. Cinnamon eyed the little blue colt as he ran past, presumably to go find somepony else to annoy. Glad to be left alone, Cinnamon rubbed her eyes. Outside the window she noticed that the landscape had gradually faded from open fields to the wooded forest that lay at the base of the Canterhorn mountains. She guessed that it would be at most another two hours until they reached Canterlot, which she would spend cooped up inside with a bunch of overly loud ponies and hyperactive foals.
She stretched her wings, feeling the joints creak from misuse. Aside from a nap she also desired the open air; she did not do well when forced into long periods of inactivity, and the overnight trip from Manehatten had left her wanting to get out and fly around. Even a little glide along the narrow corridor of the train car would be enough to set her restlessness at ease. Unfortunately flying inside was expressly forbidden. Even worse, she would be emulating the antics of those troublesome foals. She wondered if the train had anymore coffee to offer, until she remembered that she had already drank it all
Maybe a small nap would do her some good.
Despite her unwillingness to drift off, Cinnamon finally decided that torturing herself like this was not going to help, and set her papers off to the side. Her eyelids felt like lead, drooping lower and lower with every second that passed. Just when she was about to nod off completely, she was jolted back into the realm of awareness by the loud baritone voice of the conductor as he came trotting into the passenger car, addressing the ponies seated inside.
“Attention folks,” he stated. “We’re going to be making a scheduled stop in about ten minutes. Soon as the train stops yer free to move around, so long as ya make sure yer on board when we get moving again.” With that the stallion trotted to next car to repeat the announcement. Cinnamon grumbled, upset at being disturbed, but grateful for the opportunity to move around as he suggested.
Just as the conductor had said, the train gradually began to slow down, coming to a complete stop at a lone platform. Once the all clear was given, multiple ponies, Cinnamon included, filed out of the car, stretching their legs and ironing out the kinks in their joints as well as taking the time to look around. Cinnamon did likewise, taking in the scent of the trees. She looked back, wondering why they had stopped in the first place. She saw a pair of ponies on a rail trolly, rhythmically operating the lever to guide an additional train car, presumably filled with material goods, onto the mainline to attach to the rearmost car.
She also saw large wagon parked next to the platform, decorated to an almost garish degree with bright yellow stars. It appeared unconventional for a wagon, as it looked like sections of it could actually fold outward into a stage. Its purpose in being here was indiscernible to Cinnamon, although she could not help but catch sight of the group of ponies standing next to it. They were having a rather heated discussion judging from their gestures, as hooves were pointed both at the wagon and the forest.
Though what they said was indiscernible, it was clear to her that whatever they were conferring about was potentially worrisome.
Cinnamon shrugged, deciding that whatever they were discussing had nothing to do with her. She unfolded her sore wings, working out the kinks in her joints. With a few flaps she was airborne. Remembering the conductors warning about making sure she was punctual in returning to the passenger car, she kept her flying to a minimum, hovering about ten feet or so above the ground. She was just happy to get out of that stuffy car, feeling her previous weariness fade away just a little bit.
The excited shrieking of foals interrupted the moment, drawing her attention to the group of fillies and colts as they exited the train, eager to burn off the pent-up energy. Cinnamon understood their excitement at finally being free from the confines of the train. Hopefully once they returned, they would be less inclined to bother her. A few of them branched away, taking their game to the edge of the trees. Parents and guardians stood by, keeping careful watch to ensure they did not stray too far. Cinnamon moved further away so as not to be bothered.
Eventually Cinnamon had her fill of hovering around, gently alighting upon the grass. It seemed that it would be a few minutes’ yet until they had to take their leave, so she decided to pass the time by trotting around, relishing the time to herself for as long as it lasted. She ambled towards the trees, appreciating the scenery.
She flicked her ears, listening to sounds of the pines.
Something was off, she noticed, and it took her a moment of thought to realize what it was. There were no birds calls. In fact, Cinnamon also noticed that almost everything in the vicinity was unnaturally silent, save for the rustle of trees and the conversations of the ponies behind her. To her, this made no sense, as it should still be a while yet before most flocks journeyed south for the coming Winter. Guiding the flocks was her favorite part of the season; she even had it marked on her calendar for when it was supposed to take place.
Perhaps they happened to stop in the part of the forest where no birds resided at all for miles around where even sensitive equine ears could not discern them? Cinnamon frowned at the thought, finding it to be just as unlikely.
Cinnamon looked into the trees, wondering if she could glean some sort of clue to the oddity. Her eyes narrowed when she found that her vision seemed to be obstructed by. . . something. At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, sleep deprived as she was. She discovered with increasing alarm that her exhaustion was not to blame. Before her, saturating the forest like poisonous miasma was a fog, a shroud of thick darkness that even the light of the sun seemed unable to pierce.
Cinnamon backpedaled, hurrying away from the unnatural sight.
Something was wrong.
A scream sounded to her left. Cinnamon’s heart hammered away in her chest, all remnants of exhaustion completely forgotten. Her wings instinctively unfolded, ready to take flight at a moments notice. She looked, saw what looked like a dozen ponies rushing towards the forest, all shouting in frenzied alarm.
The foals.
Cinnamon wasted not a second longer as she surged forward to help look for the foals. As soon as she arrived though, the foals came galloping back out of the brush, crying and shouting. Cinnamon saw one of them, the same that had been looking at her over the seat, nearly topple his mother as he collided into her chest.
“Honey! What’s the matter?! What happened?! Are you hurt?!” the mare asked frantically, her horn lighting up. Despite her questions the colt seemed unable to say anything resembling a coherent response, babbling and crying indecipherably. Cinnamon couldn’t make heads or tails of what he said.
The distinctive din of trees snapping like twigs reached the ears of everypony within earshot, and they looked to see the tops of the pines swaying as something huge came crashing through the forest directly towards them.
“Everypony, get back on the train, now!” the conductor commanded, the authority in his voice compromised by the terrified urgency that laced it.
Cinnamon was in complete agreement, swiftly trotting to the train car, pressed in from all sides by the rush of frantic ponies. As disorganized as the mass of stallions and mares was, in less than a minute everypony had boarded the passenger car, including the workers. While the conductor counted heads to ensure none had been left behind, Cinnamon, her nerves on the edge of sending her into a panic, looked outside the window, wondering what had frightened those foals so much.
She soon saw it, and the even that mere glimpse was more than enough to freeze the blood in her veins.
A great eye, huge and burning like a fiery coal, peered out of the veil of darkness, cutting through darkness. Its gaze was steady, unblinking as it stared at the passenger car with what could only be hatred.
It was looking at her.
The eye moved, and Cinnamon caught a glimpse of the form of some massive, beastly monstrosity. It was approaching them, dragging the miasma with it in its wake, creeping over the grass like a blanket of death. She screamed, drawing the attention of everypony on board to the sight.
More screams followed; a window broke somewhere inside. The sounds of panic were drowned out by an enraged howl. The Cinnamon could only watch as the darkness swept over them.
The drink Celestia had been holding in her magic dropped, unexpectedly released from her grip. The crystalline glass impacted onto the ground, spilling her drink and shattering into a hundred jagged pieces. She doubled over, clutched at her chest with her gilded hoof, suddenly feeling short of breath.
“Princess!” one of her guards shouted in alarm, her escort rushing forward to help her.
“Princess! Are you well?!” another pony asked. Celestia thought about the question, unsure what her answer should be, or if it was even worth an answer. Again, her stomach seemed to churn with distaste.
Had she been poisoned? No, she knew what that was like. This was something else entirely, yet it evoked a feeling within her gut that she unfortunately had become somewhat intimate with over the past number of days since it began. That same creeping feeling, the one that had been plaguing her nonstop like an insect buzzing in her ear. . . it now felt as if somepony had taken a blade to her heart, and she had to check to make sure that was not the case.
Suddenly she noticed the crowd of ponies gathered around her, looking on in trepidation and worry. Even duke Amadeus was there. He would no doubt be quite peeved at having his party ruined, but at the moment Celestia was willing to take what she could get from the insufferable stallion. Realizing that she had yet to say anything and thus assuage their concerns, Celestia quickly rearranged her thoughts, composing herself in a matter more befitting of a Princess.
“Not to worry, my little pony,” she said to the guard that had spoken. “I just happened to become a little lightheaded, is all. It must be the altitude.” As much as Celestia tried to pass off the event as nothing to be overly concerned about, she could tell her guards and the partygoers were clearly not buying her lie, however well intentioned it had been. Hoping to change the subject before they could challenge her on it, she quickly said to him, “I do thank you for looking after me though. If you do not mind, can I inquire as to your name?”
Caught off guard by the sudden request, the armored stallion stuttered a bit, then stood at attention, saluting her as he replied, “Stalwart, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Stalwart,” Celestia said with a smile. “Now, if you would be a dear, would you please go and fetch my assistant, Raven, for me?”
“Yes, your majesty,” Stalwart acknowledged, saluting her once more before hurrying away to meet her request. As Celestia watched him go, she heard the clicking of silver tipped hooves approaching from behind. She turned to face Amadeus, the stallions’ mustache twitching in barely hidden annoyance. Even the words he spoke were laced with disdain.
“My dear Princess Celestia, are you well?” he asked. “I would hate to think I invited you if it was going to be too much for your health. Shall I send for one of my physicians to look you over.”
Celestia met the duke’s snide gaze with a quaint smile. “That will not be necessary. Rest assured, Amadeus, I am right as rain. I fear I may just be working myself too hard as of late. I hope I did not disrupt your little get together. If so, I am willing to see myself out if I am causing you embarrassment.”
The duke seemed to shrivel under her response. Celestia knew the only reason so many ponies had gathered in the palace gardens was because Amadeus had promised she would be present. Of course, she had not been made aware of this until after she was invited, but at the moment Celestia was happy to knock the duke down a peg or two. She really could leave any time she desired, doing so would only hurt his standing in the court. Celestia did not fancy herself to be a spiteful sort of mare, but the idea was quite tempting.
“Oh, don’t be silly Princess,” he responded. “Trust me, we are glad to have you present. I don’t believe there’s anything you can do that would dampen the mood.”
‘That’s what you think you little-‘
“Hey! Watch it!” a mare exclaimed with such indignance that Celestia almost thought it was directed at her. She discarded the thought upon realizing her foolishness as she looked to see Raven barreled towards her, heedless of the glares and shouts of disdain thrown her way. If anything, she seemed to relish the insults and remarks, basking joyfully in the misery of the nobles as she crashed their party; even from a distance Celestia could plainly see the smug grin that threatened to spread across her aides’ muzzle.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said to the Duke, not bothering to acknowledge the look of disapproval he shot at her as she dismissed him, trotting over to meet Raven.
“Alright, what’d you do now?” the mare demanded of her, looking her over like a mother would a troublesome filly. Celestia reluctantly felt a grin of her own tug at the corners of her mouth, finding the mares’ doting to be rather charming.
“I swear Raven, it was not my fault. Not this time at least,” Celestia replied with a soft smirk. She looked over her shoulder, finding Amadeus glancing at the two while trying not to make it obvious he was prying on them. “Let us take this somewhere more private,” she suggested. Understanding her intentions, Rave replied with a subtle nod. Once the two were far enough away that they did not have to fear being overheard by the nobles, they stopped by one of the many statues placed in the garden, and Raven turned to face Celestia.
“What is going on Princess?” Raven questioned, adopting a stern countenance over her previously boorish behavior. “I was just going through your schedule when suddenly I hear from your guard that you’ve had a heart attack or something. I know you’ve already told me what you think of these gatherings, but I don’t peg you as the type to stage a health condition just to get out of them.” Celestia blinked at being referred to by her title by her friend, suddenly finding herself wishing Raven would just use her name as she had requested. With a rustle of her great wings, she chose to ignore it.
“You’re correct Raven. I apologize for worrying you, but there is something that I wish to discuss with you.” Quickly checking to ensure their conversation was still private. “Raven, do you trust me?”
“With my life Princess.”
Celestia was somewhat dismayed by the lack of hesitation in Raven’s answer, as it sent a slight frown across her muzzle. She set aside her reservations however, focusing on the reason she had summoned her aide.
“Then you would trust me when I say that something is amiss?”
At this, Raven tilted her head at the Princess, not quite understanding what she meant. “”Amiss”, Princess?” She looked past Celestia at the gathering of ponies. Even with her head turned away Celestia could still feel their prying eyes boring into the back of her head, like serpents waiting for the moment to strike. Her next question was hushed, as though she were afraid to speak too loudly as she leaned in a bit closer towards the taller mare. “Am I to assume that it has something to do with the court?”
“For once, Raven, I wish that were the case.”
Raven blinked, caught off guard by Celestia’s answer, and the Princess could almost see the worry and trepidation building in her eyes. “What do you mean?” she asked, her tone hesitant.
“Call it a gut feeling. At the moment that’s all it is, but lately I’ve been feeling. . . things. They beset me at random hours of the day and night, and it leaves a sick feeling in me. I don’t know what it is, but I fear what might happen if I just ignore it.”
“What do you suggest we do, Princess?”
Celestia sighed, her brow furrowing. “I wish that I had an answer to that question Raven, I really do. But presently I am unsure if it really is something to make known to the general public, and I hesitate to cause widespread panic over what could be nothing.”
Raven nodded her head. “I get you,” she said. “You want to be discreet in finding out what the source of this. . . feeling is.” She smirked at Celestia, an expression that the Princess could not help but admire from her friend. “Are you suggesting that I, you know, look into things? See what I can dig up?”
“If you don’t mind that is,” Celestia answered, offering a grin of her own.
Raven waved off the statement, shaking her head. “Come now, Celestia. I knew what I was getting myself into the moment I signed my name on the dotted line. What kind of mare would I be if I didn’t have the grit to live up my reputation.”
Celestia suppressed a chuckle, suddenly finding herself amused by her friends’ willingness to leap into any situation on her behalf. She only wished that she could curb Raven’s narrow minded obedience, but knew that doing so would likely have the opposite effect. Her trip to Neighpon, which Celestia had personally orchestrated for her assistant, was proof of that.
“Thank you, Raven. I knew I could count on you.”
“Anytime Princess.” With that, Raven bid Celestia farewell, trotting away to embark on the task set before her. As for Celestia, she returned to Amadeus’s party, wondering if it was not too early for her to ditch the event without coming off as rude. The potential horrors of the future could wait though; for now, she had the real horrors of bureaucracy to look forward to.
Celestia almost found herself preferring the former. Almost.
When Astrid’s consciousness emerged into cognizance, it did so sluggishly and with much complaining at being forced to boot up. Her brain throbbed within her skull with an incessant migraine the moment she cracked her eye open, feeling as if her head would split open from the pressure. She lazily looked around, gauging what the time was. She came to the conclusion that it was sometime before the afternoon judging from the rays of sunlight streaming in through the slats of the window, landing right on her face as it was wont to do. How it always seemed to be able to do that was beyond her knowledge, leaving her to accept the phenomenon as a universal constant. She refused to tolerate it for a moment longer though as she rolled over, pulling the covers over her head.
Astrid was unsure how long she had been out, but for some reason she felt hardly rested at all. Her fatigue was intense enough that even the small act of rolling onto her side left her drained and eager to return to her dreams, as unpleasant as those had been as of late. Her filmy thoughts processed the possible reasoning why she felt so drained, eventually settling on the notion that she was simply worn out from the events of the past few days. After what she had been through, anybody would feel tired, both physically and emotionally.
Astrid closed her eyes, and was about to let herself be carried back to sleep, when all of a sudden she was unwillingly dragged back to unwanted alertness.
The quiet din of whispering voices tickled at her tattered ears, making them in annoyance. At first Astrid assumed it was merely Moondancer, the mares’ voice echoing from the other room or something. However, the more the whispering persisted in keeping her awake, the more it became clear to Astrid that she did not recognize them.
“. . . do you think it is?”
“I dunno, Miss Moondancer didn’t say.”
Again, Astrid opened her eye, reluctantly clearing away the remaining cobwebs of her thoughts as she attempted to piece together what was going on. There was a youthful quality to the whispering, not unlike Sterling. However much concern she felt about the possibility of dealing with new arrivals, it was overridden by her annoyance at their presence, wondering why they would be so rude as to rouse her from her troubled slumber. She attempted to ignore, finding the task difficult as they continued to speak.
“What do you think it is?”
“I just said I dunno.”
“Yeah, but what do you think it is?”
“I dunno.”
“Is that your answer for everything?”
A pause, then, “I dunno.”
The amount of cheek in the response was palpable enough that Astrid could practically hear the smirk it came from, and she felt all the worse for having heard it. A groan that matched her opinion of the remark sounded off, followed by, “Really Misty? You know what, come here. Let me see your wing.”
“What are y- ow!”
“Shush! Quit bein’ a baby, you’re gonna wake it up.”
‘Too late for that,’ Astrid thought bitterly, hoping they would eventually lose interest and go away if she continued to ignore them. Just when she thought she would finally be left in peace, she felt the tip of a feather tickle the back of her neck.
Deciding she'd had enough, Astrid sat bolt upright, snatching the feather out of the air, turning to glare at her hecklers, summarily finding herself flummoxed by the sight of two fillies, one a violet pegasus and the other a bright blue unicorn with a bow in her pink mane. Both fillies jumped backward, startled at her sudden activity, staring at her in wide-eyed surprised.
“Do you mind?” Astrid demanded grumpily.
The two fillies looked at each other, seeming to come to some unspoken consensus before proceeding to scream their little heads off as they scurried away like the pests they were. “Miss Moondancer! Help! It’s gonna eat us!” the pegasus cried.
“Oh come on,” Astrid mumbled as the two rounded a corner, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “I’m not that ugly.”
Stretching her arms over her head, Astrid let out a deep yawn, rubbing the sand from her eyes. She still didn’t feel very well rested, but decided there wasn’t really anything that could be done about it. Maybe she could inquire after Moondancer to see if she had something to help; preferably laden with caffeine.
When she pulled her hand away, Astrid noticed something peculiar about it, more so than usual that is, and for a moment she wondered if her eyes were merely playing tricks on her.
Was she. . . paler?
Astrid ran her other hand along her palm, the pointed tips of her fingers dragging across her coal-black skin. For some reason unbeknownst, something did not feel quite right about it, and she was unsure what to make of what she thought she was seeing, or if it was even worth her prolonged attention.
Before Astrid could come to any sort of conclusion from her observation, she was distracted by the click of approaching hooftsteps, and she looked up to see Moondancer trot into the room, trailed by the fillies as they ineffectively concealed themselves behind her magenta tail. The mare took one look at Astrid, then let out an impatient sigh as she put a hoof to her forehead in exasperation.
“I’m fairly certain that I made it explicitly clear to you two that you were not to disturb her, and what do you do? You wake her up.”
“Don’t look at me! It was Misty’s idea,” the unicorn filly stated, thrusting an accusatory hoof at her accomplice.
“Well Shimmer was the one who woke it up with my feather.” The one identified as Misty extended her right wing, gesturing at the offending area. “That was a primary you know. Do you know how long those take to grown in?”
Astrid grimaced in discomfort as the argument became more and more heated between the two, doing her no favors as her headache flared within her skull in protest at the noise. She clenched her eyes, rubbing her temples in a vain attempt to mitigate it, an action that did not go unnoticed by Moondancer as she glanced disapprovingly at the fillies.
“Well maybe you should’ve-“
“That’s enough!” At Moondancer’s decree, both fillies fell silent as their ears fell back in admonishment, allowing Astrid to breathe a sigh of relief. Addressing Misty and Shimmer directly, Moondancer’s voice was heavy with disapproval. “You two ought to be ashamed of yourselves, acting like this. Do you want to me to send you home so you can explain to your parents why you’re not getting your lessons? Because I of half a mind to do just that.”
Despite the sternness of Moondancer’s statement, there was something about it that impressed Astrid as disingenuous, hinting at the notion she was merely bluffing. Neither of the fillies seemed to catch onto it though as they said in glum unison, “No Miss Moondancer.”
Nodding, Moondancer added, “Good. Now then, Misty Moon? Shimmer Shine? Is there anything that you would like to say?”
“Sorry Miss Moondancer.” Their coordination in the response was impressive to Astrid, making her suspect that this was far from the first time they had earned the ire of the Moondancer. Astrid suppressed a chuckle, glad none of them seemed to notice.
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” Moondancer corrected, directing their attention to the imp with a tilt of her head.
Surprised by the statement, Astrid raised her palms in protest. “O-oh no, please. That’s fine, you don’t need to worry about that, really.” Despite her objection, her words fell on deaf ears as Moondancer herded the unruly foals over.
They hesitated, uncomfortable with being pushed into close proximity of Astrid, until with some encouragement from Moondancer by way of an expectant glare from the older mare they muttered, “We’re sorry.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Astrid sighed, not sure if she liked the attention she was getting. She hoped they at least understood what she meant from her tone, but found that hope to soon be in vain when the two fillies gave her perplexed expressions, looking to Moondancer in question. The older mare could only offer a shrug in response. Astrid groaned from deep within her throat, her annoyance mounting with every verbal interaction she had with the ponies, each one highlighting the one-way language barrier between them. If this was going to continue, Astrid felt she might as well not even speak at all if her words were just going to fall on deaf ears. Nevertheless, she was going to have to find some way of circumventing the issue and get her intentions across, especially if she was going to be in the care of Moondancer.
Was she in Moondancer’s care? Astrid was not sure, the mare seemed to be willing to shelter the girl for the foreseeable future, at least that was Astrid’s hope. It only then occurred to her that possibly the only reason she was even being allowed to reside on the mares’ home was due to Sterling. It was a sobering thought, and she reminded herself to thank the colt when if she saw him again, or try to at least.
Realizing that she still had Misty’s feather in her hand, an idea occurred to Astrid. Hoping to smoothen things over between them, she offered it to the filly, trying to give as friendly a smile as she could. It seemed to have the opposite effect however, the filly’s eyes angling towards her fangs.
“O-oh. Uh, thanks,” she spoke, the gratitude sounding very much insincere to Astrid. She chose not to comment on it though as the filly tentatively leaned forward, grabbing the feather between her teeth before retreating to huddle next to Moondancer. Astrid rolled her eyes, Moondancer following suit as she cast a look akin to tight lipped disappointment at Misty, which went largely ignored by the filly.
With a slight shake of her head, Moondancer mentioned, “Well, I suppose now that you’re awake I can finally open the curtains. It’s a bit dim in here.”
“Sounds good,” Astrid replied absently as she hopped back onto the couch. Truthfully she was not sure what the problem was. It did not seem dim at all to her, in fact it was practically bright as daylight. The moment the thought occurred to Astrid, a dreadful realization descended upon her, and she looked to Moondancer in alarm as the mare approached the window, and she said with mounting apprehension, “W-wait a second, don’t-“
Her warning came too late however as Moondancer was already throwing open the curtains, her horn aglow as they were spread apart.
Sunlight spilled into the living room, momentarily blinding Astrid and forcing her to clench her eyes until her sight adjusted. Even with her senses momentarily overwhelmed, Astrid was all too aware of the feeling that permeated her small body, and she didn’t need to look to know what the light did to her.
“There,” said Moondancer in a satisfactory tone, the mare appearing as little more than a blur at the edge of Astrid’s vision. “Now we can actually see. Sterling should hopefully be arriving soon, and then we can get started on. . .” The sentence died in Moondancer’s throat the moment she turned around, seeing two petrified fillies and a shadowy silhouette sitting on her couch.
A tense and heavy quiet settled over the room, in which all three ponies stared at Astrid. Her eyes darted between them, attempting to gauge the likelihood of defusing the situation before they started screaming. Raising a finger, she began, “Now I know what you’re all probably thinking-“
Astrid never got the chance to finish her sentence as the front door opened, and in walked none other than Sterling.
“Hi everypony, what’s up?”
No one paid his question any heed, however. From the moment the pinto colt trotted in, their full attention was given to the enormous splotches of red that caked his muzzle, streaming down his face in crimson rivers.
Everyone, save Moondancer, screamed at the top of their lungs.
“Sterling, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, alright?”
“’Kay.”
Retrieving the damp cloth from the kitchen sink, Moondancer brought it over to the colt. “Tilt your head back, you’re getting blood all over the floor.” Sterling complied as she proceeded to wipe away the caked-on blood from his muzzle, ignoring his fussing while she cleaned him. He had other injuries, mostly scrapes and bruises, but at the moment Moondancer was focused on his nose-bleed.
Lilac was going kill her.
Satisfied, Moondancer took a moment to check in on her students and the imp. Having recovered from the initial shock of seeing her guest as some sort of shadowy specter, she had quickly figured out the phenomenon was merely a result of some sort of magical incompatibility with natural light and not an act of hostility as she feared. Even so, the sight had still unsettled her greatly, making her question if it really was a good idea to harbor the imp. She had questions to be sure, but was unsure how to ask them if she was unable to understand the response.
Peeking into the living room, she found the imp sitting on her couch and looking very cross with Misty and Shimmer. The two had gotten over their apprehension even quicker than she had, and were now busy pestering the imp, who seemed to be doing her level best to ignore them, her forelimbs crossed, and her face twisted into an expression of obvious displeasure. Her irritation went ignored while Misty and Shimmer continued to bother her, the former fiddling with her voluminous orange hair and the latter repeatedly opening and closing the curtains, transfixed by the imp switching between a ghostly specter and a corporeal body in quick succession.
Noticing that they had an audience, the imp looked at Moondancer. “Atished nesami ido ni aw ishita.”
Moondancer nodded slowly, feigning comprehension as she turned her attention back to Sterling. She checked the cloth, gauging whether or not to soak it again before moving in to finish cleaning him up of the blood upon his muzzle. Sterling continued to fuss, eventually batting away at the cloth, stating, “I’m not a baby, I can do that myself.”
“Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly, letting him snatch the cloth of her magic. Despite his insistence, Sterling managed to only spread it across his face in great smears of red, making him look even more garish than before. It took all of Moondancer’s willpower to keep herself from snatching the cloth back and doing it properly, as she had no desire to let him terrify the others a second time. With no small amount of effort she put her peeves aside in favor of more pressing matters. “So, first question,” she began. “What happened to you?
At her inquiry, Sterling looked away, grumbling something under his breath that Moondancer didn’t quite catch. “What was that?” Sterling I can’t hear you when you mumble.”
Still refusing to look at her directly, Sterling muttered irately, “Glim and her buddies jumped me on the way here, alright. Are you happy now?”
“What?!” Moondancer stammered, floored by the insinuation as she struggled to come up with a proper response. “Of course I’m not happy. Sterling, I know you don’t want my help, but I simply cannot stand to let this go on anymore.” Shaking her head in dismay she asked, “What is Lilac doing about this? Is she really going to just stand by and let this keep going?”
Sterling remained silent, his eyes directed to the floor.
“Did. . . did you even tell her anything about this?” Moondancer asked incredulously, and when Sterling continued to provide no response she put a hoof to her forehead with an utterance of “Oh sweet Celestia.” The revelation weighed heavily on Moondancer, making her wonder for how long this had been going on, and her inexperience in anything resembling social interactions, much less ones as tense as the dilemma presented to her, reared its ugly head, and she laboriously wracked her brain for an appropriate response. She came up empty though, and could only shake her head in dismay, feeling useless because of it.
Sighing heavily, Moondancer finally said, “Okay, let’s just. . . move on from that, and I’ll think of a way to deal with this later.” Fixing the colt with a stern expression she added, “ But you can bet that I’m going to bring this up with Lilac, especially if you won’t do it yourself.” She punctuated the statement with a stamp of her hoof, causing Sterling to flinch. “But for now,” she said in a gentler tone, “For now though, I do have another question that I wanted to ask you. When you were telling me about your friend last night. . .” She paused to consider her next words, having no desire to come off as accusatory to the colt, reminding herself that it was very possible he had no knowledge of his friends’. . . quirks. “Was there anything else that you wanted to tell me?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you met, was there anything. . . odd about her that stood out to you.”
Sterling removed the cloth, inspecting it before giving her nonchalant shrug. “Not really, unless you count the whole ghosty thing, not liking the sun, and the part with the giant arm.”
Moondancer nodded, feeling somewhat perturbed that the colt had neglected to inform her about all of this before now. She knew he had a penchant for being inattentive at times, but she was happy to leave him to his woolgathering so long as it did not negatively impact his studies. In this instance however, she would have very much appreciated if he were just a little more. . .
“Wait. . . what?”
“Can’t these two take a hint?” Astrid muttered, unhappy with the circumstances she found herself trapped in. It could certainly be worse, she supposed, but she could also not have her hair be worn as a scarf by one of the fillies. Which one was it again? Misty? She was reasonably sure the one currently fiddling with her hair was Misty. Either way, they were both annoying her to no end, especially Shimmer at the window, repeatedly blinding Astrid as she opened the curtains over and over again no matter how many dirty looks the girl shot her way.
“So soft,” the pegasus filly said lavishly while burying her face in Astrid’s hair, muffling her voice.
“If you knew where that’s been, you probably wouldn’t be doing that,” Astrid commented blandly. Misty appeared to be unconcerned by her advisory statement, continuing to smother face in the apparently irresistible mass of orange hair. Astrid rolled her eyes, wondering when Moondancer was going to return. Probably not for a little while yet from the state Sterling arrived in. The colt looked like he just came from a crime scene. Astrid huffed, doubtful that she could tolerate this kind of attention for much longer.
Just then, an idea occurred to Astrid, and a devious grin spread across her face. Perhaps there was something she could do. After all, there was no harm in having a little fun of her own to pass the time, right?
She looked to Shimmer, seeing that the unicorn filly had gotten the curtains stuck in the close position, and was busy attempting to free them. Misty was still enjoying fondling her hair, allowing Astrid the time she needed to concentrate as she manipulated a length of her hair into the desired shape. Previously, the action would have left her gasping for breath; now though she at least had a semblance of control over it, however small it was. As such, she could only perform small actions with the unconventional ability, but it would suffice for what she had planned. Already she was imagining the looks on the filly’s faces when they saw it.
After a few moments of intense concentration, she was finished, and Astrid wiped beads of sweat off her brow as she inspected her handiwork. Orchestrating the strands into the shape of a spider had taken more effort than she initially expected, and the end result would have a hard time holding up against prolonged scrutiny, but Astrid would be satisfied as long it had the desired effect.
Suppressing her grin, Astrid gained Misty’s attention with a few taps on her head. “Hm?” the filly mumbled, lifting her head out of the mass of follicles, a few strands still stuck to her muzzle, only to find herself confronted by a large, orange arachnid dangling in front of her nose. Immediately her eyes went as wide as dinner plates, and Astrid prepared herself for the eventual outcry.
“Oh sweet Celestia,” Misty breathed, her voice quiet. Then she suddenly blurted out, “That is so cool!”
The grin Astrid had been trying so hard to keep from showing vanished entirely, replaced an expression of bewilderment. “What?!” she exclaimed in stupefied incredulousness, dumbfounded that the filly had not only not been fooled, but was also impressed by Astrid’s attempt to frighten her away. Before Astrid could question it, she was yanked sideways as Misty took hold of her hair, inspecting the fake spider with an awed gleam in her velvet eyes while she proceeded to bombard her with questions.
“How did you do that?” She questioned eagerly. “You got some sort of magic conditioner or something?”
“No! Now let me go, that hurts!” Astrid demanded angrily while she attempted to make her escape. Her request went completely ignored.
“Hey, Shimmer. C’mere and look at this,” Misty called to her friend. The young unicorn abandoned her attempts to free the curtains and hurried over, finding herself equally enamored by the form Astrid’s hair had taken, and before long the imp found herself flanked on both sides by the fillies, wondering when Moondancer would return to save her.
“Oh, hi Miss Moondancer,” Shimmer piped up upon noticing the mare’s presence. She held up fake spider
“Uh, n-no thanks, I’m good,” she declined, her answer laced with none too subtle hints of unease, giving Astrid at least some comfort in knowing that the mare was just as apprehensive. She almost felt relieved when the clock on the wall began to chime, the discordant tune echoing throughout the household, startling them slightly. Moondancer glanced at the clock, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “Oh shoot, we need to get started,” she muttered in mild alarm. She called all the foals over, allowing Astrid to breathe a sigh of relief now that she was no longer having her hair be used as scarf. “Okay, listen up. You three got a few minutes to do what you want while I get things ready. After that we’ll begin your lessons.” A unanimous groan of despair emanated from the foals, and this time Astrid was unable to suppress a chuckle, earning her a glare from young ponies. Astrid felt hardly bothered by it, but her moment of mirth was cut short when Moondancer addressed her directly. “Oh, don’t think you’re off the hook. I got some special plans for you.”
“What?! Oh, come on!” Astrid exclaimed indignantly, which in turn garnered a series of snickers from the foals at her expense, to which she responded by sticking her tongue out at them.
“Hey, none of that from any of you, unless you want to be sent home with extra homework,” Moondancer chided, raising an eyebrow at the group of youngsters. She let the warning sit for a moment, then said, “I’ll come let you know when everything is ready. Try to behave in the meantime, alright?”
“Yes Miss Moondancer.”
Nodding in approval, Moondancer left the room. Astrid shook her head and sighed as she worked to untangle her hair, unsure why she had to be included in the others’ activities, though she suspected the mare may just be doing it to keep a better eye on her. As much as Astrid might begrudge the possibility, she couldn’t exactly blame the mare for it either. Nevertheless, she was still uncertain how much good it would any of them, even if she knew what was preventing every pony she met from understanding her. Maybe Moondancer had a method to work around that issue? Astrid hoped that was the case, as she was starting to become quite annoyed with being little more than a passive observer. She would just have to wait and see though.
“So, we got a few minutes before class starts,” Shimmer piped up. “What do you guys feel like doing?” The question hung in the air for a moment as all three foals put hooves to their chins in thought. Astrid could hardly care less what they their plans were at the moment. Her main concern was untangling her hair; somehow in the process of morphing into the apparently not at all convincing spider it had gotten itself stuck and unable to unravel on its own, leaving the girl hard pressed to untangle it. While Astrid busied herself in the effort, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that she had three sets of eyes focused squarely on her.
She froze, like a deer in headlights, her eyes darting between them. She couldn’t tell what they were thinking, and she did not like that. Not one bit. “Uh. . . what are you doing?” she asked, worried.
Rather than answering, the three exchanged looks with each other. Then they smiled in some sort of unspoken consensus, and looked at her. Shimmer’s horn lit up, and a little box filled with brushes, combs and other assorted beauty supplies floated into view.
“Uh-oh,” Astrid murmured. She looked down the hallway Moondancer had vanished into, calculating her odds of escape. Sparing one last glance at the foals, she made a mad dash for safety. She didn’t it more than a few steps before the little terrors were upon her, leaving her helpless and at their mercy.
“See, that doesn’t feel so bad now, does it?” Misty asked teasingly, gently brushing the knots and tangles out of Astrid’s hair, aided by Sterling while Shimmer worked on her fingers. Most of the supplies, intended for use on rough hooves, went largely unused. It did little to stop the filly as she set about polishing Astrid’s pointed digits.
Astrid grumbled, though it came out more as an insincere groan. Truth be told she was actually enjoying the treatment, uncalled for as it was. The feeling of the brush going through her locks, clearing out two days’ worth of being dragged around the streets with nary a hint of care applied to it, felt incredibly pleasant to Astrid, almost to the point of ecstasy. She didn’t know it was even possible for her hair of all things to experience such sensations. She refrained from letting that be known however, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right in favor of keeping up her stubborn façade.
It was hardly very convincing, as a sigh of relief escaped her nostrils, taking with it a not insignificant amount of pent of stress and tension with it. Misty chuckled, at the reaction. “Told you.”
Astrid gave a slight shake of her head, and decided not to argue against the filly in favor of just enjoying the attention. The feeling intensified when Sterling starting to comb close to her scalp. The moment the bristles made contact with her skin, Astrid felt something akin to that of a full body stretch, and she groaned in deep satisfaction. When the feeling stopped, she wondered why the two foals had ceased. She looked behind her, only to find the two enveloped in a wave of orange follicles that flowed from the back of head that covered most of the living room floor. Sterling and Misty, unable to escape in time, were left coughing and sputtering in their attempts to free themselves.
“Sorry,” she offered sheepish grin. “It kind of has a mind of its own sometimes.” Even as she made the statement Astrid found herself wondering how it happened in the first place. Was she really in that much need of a good brushing?
Laughing as her companions floundered in the sea of orange, which had already begun to revert into its original position on Astrid’s scalp, Shimmer said, “Geez, and I thought I liked getting my mane brushed.”
Astrid gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders to the question, while Misty and Sterling dusted themselves off before resuming their work, mindful to not get too close to her scalp a second time. Astrid wouldn’t have minded if they sipped up a second time though; in fact, she was almost tempted to snag a brush and do it herself.
“So, Sterling,” Misty began. “Moondancer didn’t really tell us anything about your friend here. Care to fill us in on where you found her?”
Sounding all too happy to oblige, Sterling answered, “Sure thing! See it all started when I woke up yesterday morning. . . well, afternoon actually. Okay more like early evening but anyway, I was on my way here yesterday when I found myself pursued by none other than Glim and her army of like, twenty other hulking foals hot on my tail.”
Having already heard the story recounted to Moondancer the previous night, Astrid tuned out the remainder of the conversation, feeling sorry for the filly as she was subjected to his fanciful tale. She noticed that Moondancer was taken considerably longer than few minutes to prepare whatever she had planned. Looking around the living room she also could not help but question where exactly she was going to hold a class in such a mess.
“That’s a very pretty necklace.”
The unexpected statement gave Astrid pause, and instantly her hand went to her pendant, holding it protectively while Shimmer looked at it with a curious gleam in her eye. The action did not go unnoticed by the filly, and she recoiled a bit in admonishment. “S-sorry. I really mean it though, it’s really pretty.” Shimmer leaned in a bit closer to get a better look at the piece of jewelry, and it took every effort on Astrid’s part to not tell her off. “Looks like something those fancy noble ponies would wear. Can I look at it?”
The urge to decline the request was overwhelming, and Astrid was very much tempted to just get up and walk away, regardless of how much she was enjoying the treatment she was getting. Her brow furrowed in a clear display of anxiety, and her grip around her necklace tightened as though it would disappear the moment she let go.
Shimmer regarded her with a strange look that Astrid could not quite identify. Empathy perhaps? Whatever it was, Shimmer proceeded to offer a sincere smile as she said, “I promise I’ll be careful, and to give it back, okay? And may Celestia strike me down if I don’t.”
For all of Shimmer’s assurances, Astrid was still highly reluctant to just hand her necklace, the only thing she had of her home and family left to her name, to the filly, regardless whatever divine powers the filly had called upon to hold her accountable.
And yet, she could not bring herself to outright refuse, not when she considered how sincere the filly seemed. And Astrid knew that she could not keep up her distrust of the intentions of every pony she met, even taking past experiences into account. She needed friends, and if this was the way to do it, then Astrid supposed the best she could do was give at least some leeway. Under intensely close supervision of course.
Inhaling deeply, Astrid exhaled, letting her breath take as much anxiety with it as possible before finally giving a terse nod of her head, and she undid the clasp holding the necklace in place. She hesitated briefly, she reluctantly offered to Shimmer, who gingerly took it in her little blue hoof. Shimmer dipped her head in thanks, examining the pendant, her mouth forming a small circle of admiration. Astrid looked on nervously, already feeling the urge to swipe it back. She felt intensely uncomfortable without it around her neck. She tried to still her growing sense of panic, telling herself that she was getting worked up over nothing. It didn’t help much.
Still examining the necklace, Shimmer said something that Astrid didn’t quite catch. “What was that?” she asked.
Shimmer glanced at her. Again, the filly muttered something, gesturing to the necklace. Astrid tilted her head in confusion, unsure why Shimmer had suddenly decided not to talk normally. She looked to Sterling and Misty, about to ask what was wrong with their friend when she found that they too had for some reason had forgone speaking in clear distinct sentences in favor of muttering things that did not even sound like actual language to Astrid’s ears. There was clearly meaning in their conversation though as Sterling continued to talk long after Misty had checked out, her eyes glazed over.
“Uh, what’s going on here? What are you all doing? It’s starting to really freak me out.”
She turned her attention back to Shimmer, on the verge of absolute panic. Why could she suddenly not understand a word they were saying? Was this what it was like to them whenever she said anything to them? If so, it frightened her, and she wanted to make it stop, but she didn’t what was causing it in the first. . . place. . .
Astrid’s eyes landed on her necklace, still held in Shimmer’s hooves as the filly continued to admire it. It was only them that Astrid realized that it was only when she gave it to Shimmer that it had started, and instantly a seed of suspicion was planted in her thoughts. Could it be? Not even bothering to ask, Astrid lunged forward and swiped the necklace out of her hooves. Shimmer, startled by the suddenness of the action, looked at Astrid with something like she was mildly insulted, uttering something that sounded much like indignation to Astrid. The imp ignored it though as she hurried to reattach the necklace, her fingers fumbling with the clasps before they finally clicked into place. The moment it was back in its proper place, the indecipherable mutterings Shimmer was throwing her way faded, twisting into words Astrid could clearly discern.
“-re you doing? I told you I was going to give it back, didn’t I?” she stated heatedly, her eyebrow raised in clear displeasure. She waited expectantly for an answer, receiving none while Astrid gazed at her necklace in befuddlement, tapping it with her finger. Shimmer seemed to sense that something odd was going on, and her countenance became one more akin to that of concern as she leaned in. “Hey? Are you alright?”
Astrid paid the inquiry little mind, processing what she had just learned. Her necklace, her father's gift to her, was somehow making it possible for her to understand the ponies speech. Until then she had assumed the fault was her own for being able to speak with them properly, but now she had at least a partial explanation for the occurrence. It still did not exactly solve the issue of them being unable to understand her, but at least it clarified one mystery for her, regardless of the additional questions it raised.
“Hello-o-o, are you in there?” Sterling said, waving a hoof in front of her. Astrid jolted, caught off guard by the movement as she was brought back to the present. “You alright there? You kinda spaced out for a moment,” the colt added, all three foals watching her with concern.
Astrid opened her mouth, but found herself unable to say anything. She was at a complete loss, her brain doing somersaults as the revelation continued to bounce around her skull. She wrestled with the errant thought, attempting to subdue it enough to calm her increasingly erratic emotions.
It was at that moment that Moondancer finally decided to reappear with a proclamation of, “Alright fillies and colts. Fun time’s over, time for class to start.” She was met with exaggerated groans and mumbles of disappointment from the group of foals, Astrid included to a degree, to which she raised an eyebrow and responded, “Hey, what did I say about giving me lip? I don’t make idle threats. Now come on, we’re already late as it is.”
Unable to fight her on the matter any longer, the foals all begrudgingly stood up to follow after the mare in single file line, their heads held low like prisoners being led to the gallows. Astrid followed suit, though she lingered behind to look at her necklace, cradling it in her palm. Her brow was furrowed in deep contemplation, seeing the little angel in whole light than before.
Just what had her father given her?
“Ahem.”
Astrid snapped her head upward, finding Moondancer waiting for her expectantly. As much as Astrid wanted to continue to ponder the new mystery presented before, she eventually conceded the fact that standing around twiddling her thumbs was not going to provide any answers. She stowed it away, resolving to ponder it all later as she hurried to catch up with the others down the hallway. She rounded a corner, whereupon she found the others lined up against the wall, gathered before what appeared to be a closet door. Astrid quirked an eyebrow at the sight, but decided not to question it as she followed their example and took a spot next to them. A moment later Sterling squeezed past Misty, much to the filly’s chagrin as she was all but shoved out of the way. The harsh she shot at him was ignored as Sterling sidled up next to Astrid, offering her a friendly smile. Astrid tried to reciprocate the expression, but it came out more as a nervous grimace.
“Alright, now that everypony is present, we can finally get started. And remember,” she added with a glare, directed mostly at Shimmer. “No gum.” Shimmer cowered under the mare’s warning glare. “Now then, let’s get started.” Moondancer’s horn lit up, enveloping the doorknob in an ethereal glow. The door swung open.
A broom fell out, clattering on the floor.
“Um. . .” Astrid hummed, thoroughly confused as she suddenly found herself second guessing agreeing to go along with. . . whatever this was.
“Oh come on!” Moondancer muttered irately. “Of all the times it had to run out. Give me a sec’.” She kicked the door closed, and once more her horn lit up. Astrid could hear it sparkling as the entire door was wrapped up in the pinkish aura. About a minute passed, during Astrid contemplated whether or not to just walk away, not seeing the value in wasting her time staying here as well as seriously questioning Moondancer’s teaching methods. She didn’t get to ponder for long however as Moondancer appeared to finish up whatever she was doing. “There. Now we can start.” Once more she opened the door, and Astrid fully expected to find the same closet of brooms and other junk.
Her eyes summarily widened to the size of dinner plates and her jaw went completely slack when she looked inside the closet. Except it was not a closet, not anymore at least. The cramped interior had been replaced by a rather spacious looking room, with shelves filled with books pressed against and a collection of desks and short chair occupying it. There was even a ten-foot chalkboard on the wall.
“Wha. . ?”
Moondancer guided the foals inside, then noticed Astrid had once again fallen behind. She guessed as to what the imp was thinking and said, “I take you’ve never in a simulacra room before.”
“. . . Huh?”
Dusting her hoof off on her sweater, she added, “It’s not much really. Just a simple spell once you get the hang of it, though you need the necessary magical aptitude to actually apply it.”
Astrid blinked, Moondancer’s words falling on her ears and settling on her thoughts like leaves on the wind, before suddenly causing her brain to commit the biological equivalent of a blue screen.
A simple spell.
Magic. Moondancer called it Magic .
Suddenly everything that she had seen over the past two days, from the whole levitating bit that only ever seemed to be an attribute of unicorns, to Trixie’s public performance, suddenly took on shocking clarity to Astrid as she realized that all of that magical stuff was just that. Magic. Real, honest to goodness, bona fide magic.
And that made her wonder; if it was possible for Moondancer to create an entire classroom out of a broom closet, then did that mean it was also possible for her to find an actual means of going home that stretched beyond a hopeless fantasy? The thought weighed heavily on her mind. Too heavily in fact, and Astrid suddenly found it difficult to stand. She staggered backward, her vision swaying.
Moondancer said something, alarm in her voice. Whatever she said was lost on Astrid however, and in mere moments the girl felt herself topple over, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
Author's Note
What's that? Is it Saturday already? Dang, the week just went by didn't it?
“One day,” Moondancer muttered darkly under her breath. “Just one day, that’s all I ask for. Just one day where nothing happens, and everything goes smoothly. Is that too much to hope for?”
Recent events seemed to indicate as such, and she was none too pleased about it as she mumbled obscenities in a low tone, mindful of young ears overhearing her vocal grievances. They didn’t need to learn any new words from her. Her grim demeanor only intensified when, upon entering her kitchen, she discovered that she had neglected to refill her icebox for the past several days, prompting her to emit a contemptuous growl of annoyance.
She remedied by filling the sink with water from the faucet, followed by casting a quick spell upon it with a flash of her horn, turning it into little chunks of ice about the size of marbles. They would not last as long as ones frozen naturally, but Moondancer was not in the mood for waiting, deeming it to be too urgent to wait. Scooping up some of the chunks into an ice pack, topping it off with a knot, Moondancer trekked back to the simulacra, wondering what else would happen to distract her. Too much time had passed already, and it was rapidly approaching noon.
Upon returning to the conjured classroom, Moondancer found the imp sitting on a little chair pressed into the corner of the room. A paper bag was clutched in her small hands, crinkling loudly as it shrunk and expanded with every breath she took. Her eyes were wide and frantic as they darted about the interior of the room, regarding it with fearful suspicion. Sterling, Misty and Shimmer huddled close by, looking on in concern. Shimmer stepped forward, placing a hoof on the imps’ spine.
“Hey, it’s alright,” she soothed. “Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I mean, everypony gets nervous on their first day of school, right guys.”
“No, not really,” Misty replied blandly, while Sterling shook his head.
“Oh, what good are you?” Shimmer retorted with a glare, while the imp paused in her breathing to give an incredulous glare at the three out of the corner of her eyes.
“Alright, fun time’s over,” Moondancer interjected as she stepped forward, offering the icepack to the imp. Instead of taking it right away though, she regarded both it and Moondancer with an air of suspicion, her expression inscrutable and her eyes narrowed at the pink halo the icepack was enveloped in.
“What’s the matter?” Moondancer asked. “It’s not going to bite you.” Despite her assurances, the imp still seemed hesitant to accept it, making the mare wonder what she was concerned about. For that matter, Moondancer, was still unsure what exactly caused her to faint in the first place, and asking was practically useless since she still couldn’t make out anything she said; a conundrum that she hoped to be able to remedy in the near future.
Finally, the imp accepted the icepack, applying it to the sore spot on her cranium. Giving a satisfied nod, Moondancer turned to her students. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. If you’ll take your seats I’ll have your graded work in a minute for you to look over.” The group of foals obeyed, albeit begrudgingly, as they headed to their desks. Addressing the imp Moondancer said, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you what we’ll be doing.”
As much as she attempted to hide it, Moondancer nevertheless felt a surprising amount of excitement for what was to come, as the prospect of learning more about her guest and the possible secrets she held were too tempting of an opportunity for her to simply pass up, regardless of her reservations. The imp on the other hand seemed much less enthused, still looking at both her and her surroundings with an air of suspicion. Moondancer chose not to question it as she led the imp to the front of the class, bringing over an empty desk for her to sit at, placing it next to her own. She opened a drawer, pulling out a stack of papers and three identical books, which she floated over to her students. “Go ahead and look those over, and we’ll get started in just a moment. Let me know if you have any questions.” Three hooves rose. “Questions that don’t have to do with our guest.” The hooves lowered with groans of disappointment.
Moondancer’s ear twitched, picking up a quiet laugh from the imp. It was a pleasant sound, and Moondancer was surprised to find her own demeanor brighten a little upon hearing the almost musical sound coming from the imp. She immediately cut the mirth short when she noticed the mare looking at her, turning away and hiding her face behind her orange mane. Feeling just as embarrassed, as well as slightly disappointed that the imp had stopped, Moondancer proceeded to distract herself by rummaging through her desk, opening and closing drawers.
“Ka usam etisho ina aw atana?” she heard. The imp, apparently curious about what she was doing, had emerged from behind her curtain of hair to watch as Moondancer looked through her desk.
Aware of what she may be inquiring after, Moondancer replied, “If I’m going to be of any help to you at all, then we’re going to have to establish some means of communication. I’m sure you’ll agree that, as it is right now, playing the guessing game whenever we try to have a conversation is not going to be very helpful.”
The imp nodded with a sympathetic groan, while Moondancer started to become mildly annoyed when the items she was searching for seemed to elude her. When was the last time she had cleaned out her workspace?
“Thankfully,” she continued, pulling out multiple bits unhelpful material, “the fact that you are able to at least understand spoken Equish will go a long way towards making that process much easier for the both of us. Ah! There you are.”
Finally uncovering what she was looking for, Moondancer pulled out a small, yet thick book bound with twine. The cover was faded to the point that its title was ineligible, which had prompted Moondancers to write “Dictionary” beneath it in hastily scrawled out ink lettering. She also retrieved a spare piece of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell, presenting them to the imp. She looked at them for a brief moment, then tentatively received, holding them away from her body as though they would lash out at her before hurriedly depositing them on the little desk.
Moondancer quirked an eyebrow at the behavior, unsure what had led her to regarding everything with suspicion all of a sudden. Deciding that the issue was not worth pursuing, she then said, “To that end, what I need for you to do is simply write down your alphabet for me.”
The moment Moondancer finished her sentence, the imps’ eyes widened slightly as something seemed to click in her head, rapidly looking between the mare and the writing materials. Moondancer could practically see understanding dawn upon the little creature as she sat down with a plop, grabbing the quill and inkwell.
Satisfied that she seemed to understand what she was getting, Moondancer left the imp to her own devices. Just as she was about to officially begin class for her students however, she heard a sound that she was all too familiar with, followed by a small and disconcerted “Ehh.” Moondancer closed her eyes, already having some idea of what just occurred, and was almost too afraid to open them and look. Eventually she forced herself to confront the issue head on, and she glanced over to find the small desk covered in a layer of black liquid. Her hands were in a similar state as ink dripping from her fingers, nearly indistinguishable from her charcoal skin while a horrified expression adorned her small face.
Before Moondancer could say anything, the imp suddenly stood up, speaking so rapidly that she could hardly process her words. Raising a hoof, quickly put a stop to the apologies with, “D-don’t worry. It’s fine.” Despite this, Moondancer nevertheless felt the onset of exasperation. Removing her glasses, she rubbed the bridge of her muzzle.
The imp held her head low, her shoulders quivering, and her breath ragged. She looked ready to cry at any moment. Seeing her like this. . . Moondancer didn’t like it one bit, but she was clueless what to do about it, other than reassure her that she would take care of the mess and hope that was enough to keep her from breaking down completely.
“H-hey, don’t worry. It’s alright, it’s just-“ Moondancer tried to say, standing up to approach her.
This action seemed to have the opposite effect as she backpedaled, a terrified look in her glistening red eyes, and she only became more distressed with every passing moment. Sterling and Misty both began to exit their seats, worried expressions on their faces while Shimmer looked on, surprised at the sudden commotion. Despite their good intentions, Moondancer quickly put a stop to their advance with a harsh look and a shake of her head.
At this point the imps’ speech had devolved into a quiet babbling, so quiet that Moondancer could barely hear it. What she did hear conveyed a sense of intense fear and dread.
“Iasan nemog. Iasads kedianutes, ianakraw ka ura gai nan mo. Nesamimus, nesamimus.”
As Moondancer watched, she couldn’t help but feel her heart lurch within her chest. Her hooves were frozen to the spot, unwilling to approach any further for fear of causing the imp more grief. She looked to her students, feeling utterly lost. Neither Sterling nor Misty had yet to return to their seats. All three foals glanced uncertainly between her and the imp, their faces a mixture of fear and concern.
Moondancer looked back to the imp, her words degrading further in a barely discernible murmur.
“Uamish iazah, usamish iazah, usemish iazah,” she said over and over again. She pressed her tiny body against the wall, placing herself as far away from Moondancer as possible. However, she did not even seem to be looking at the mare anymore as she stared ahead, seemingly at nothing. Even with her inexperience though, Moondancer could plainly tell that there was something very wrong, and something Sterling told her the previous night reemerged in her thoughts.
“I don’t think she’s got a family.”
She looked to the necklace hanging from around the imps’ neck, clutched so tightly in her shaking hands that her knuckles appeared white even from underneath the coat of ink.
It was only then that Moondancer finally realized that there was more to her reaction than a spilled bottle of ink and some ruined papers. Unwilling to let this continue for any longer than she had already allowed, Moondancer finally forced herself to tenderly trot forward, careful to not cause any more alarm. Once she decided she was close enough for comfort, she laid herself onto the floor, putting at roughly eye level with the imp. She opened her mouth a few times, unsure what to even say before finally saying uncertainly, “H-hey there.” Seconds passed after she spoke, dragging on for what felt like much longer until the imp glanced at her. She blinked a few times, the hazy look in her eyes seeming to clear up a bit as she calmed down, her frantic breathing dying down in shallow gasps. It was a slight improvement, but at this point Moondancer was going to take what she could get. “Um, listen,” she began softly. “Don’t worry about the mess. Trust me, this. . . kind of thing happens a lot. All the time in fact.” She put on a small smile. “When you’re in my line of work, you kind of just learn to accept that everpony makes a mess every now and then. I mean, do you really think that these three never cause trouble?”
“Hey!”
“Oh, don’t play innocent,” Moondancer shot back. “Need I remind you how many copies of practical wagon engineering you three have gone through?”
The imp looked unconvinced, her shoulders still quivering with every anxious breath she took.
“Hey,” Moondancer said, a little firmer this time. “Do you understand? I’m not mad. It’s going to be okay. Alright?”
She let the question settle for a moment, patiently waiting until at last the imp seemed to calm down to the point that she was no longer shaking in fright anymore, suddenly looking very tired as she said, “Usamiraka.”
Taking that as a confirmation, Moondancer felt a tension that had been building up inside of her loosen, if only slightly. She nodded, standing back up. “Now then,” she stated. “Let’s get this cleaned up, and we’ll just start over.”
In Astrid’s mind, there was almost nothing worse than feeling useless, she thought as she stood off to the side, busily trying to wipe away the ink from her hands with a damp towel provided by Moondancer. The only thing that was worse was feeling like a burden, and in that moment, Astrid was experiencing each of these sentiments intensely, and she could not help but let her gaze fall to the floor in dismay.
She was acutely aware of the eyes of Sterling, Misty and Shimmer upon her. Their muzzles were thoroughly buried in their textbooks, yet that did little to stop them from peeking every so often. She spared them brief glances, seeing that they were just as unsure what to do as she was. She could see the desire to help in their expressions, but they made no move to leave their desks. Perhaps they were fearful of making their instructor that much more upset.
Whatever was going through their heads, Astrid could hardly blame them, as the numerous apologies she’d tried to make before being subsequently quieted seemed to fall on deaf ears, leaving her unsure if Moondancer’s lack of response was due to her being too focused on cleaning to reply or if she was outright ignoring her. The notion that it was the latter of the two possibilities only made Astrid feel that much worse.
Eventually she gave up on thinking of a way to beg forgiveness in favor of sequestering herself against the wall, trying to be and failing not to be too nervous as she waited for Moondancer to finish.
While she waited, Astrid watched with interest as Moondancer set about cleaning up the puddles of ink, all without using so much as a single cloth or cleaner. Apparently all she needed to do was light up her horn, casting the offended areas in a pink glow as the black splotches gradually shrunk until they disappeared altogether, leaving the desk as clean as it was before, free of any sort of blemish. Not for first, and most likely not for the last, Astrid found herself feeling both awed as well as rather jumpy when she saw it in action. She had to actively fight the urge to freak out. She looked down at her hands again. There was only so much she could do with the towel, and what she had been unable to rub off had long since dried. She wondered if the same spell or whatever the mare had used on the desk would get rid of the residue on her hands. She quickly discarded the notion, deciding that she would rather not be subjected to spell-work or anything of the sort anytime soon. That aside, she hesitated in burdening Moondancer with more work than she already had on her plate.
“There we go, good as new,” Moondancer proclaimed upon finally clearing up the spill. “Barring any future incidents, we should be good to go.” Although she knew the statement was not directed at her, and that Moondancer likely meant nothing by it, Astrid still flinched at the statement, her tattered ears folding back in shame.
Following a brief instruction on how to properly use a quill and inkwell, as well as providing her with a few extra blank sheets of paper, Astrid was finally able to start fulfilling Moondancer’s request as the mare left her to her own devices. “Alright everypony,” she began. “Go ahead and open your textbooks to page one hundred seventy-three. Now then, can anypony remind what the names of the ponies who headed to equal-species act were named?”
From that point onward, Astrid tuned out most of the session. As interesting as it was, it had little to do with her at the moment she decided as she proceeded to put ink to paper, in the correct way this time. She began by first making broad strokes across the page, gradually getting herself used to the feel of the quill in her hands. She didn’t anticipate how much her comparatively lanky arms would complicate the simple act of writing. It was also the first time she had begun to truly appreciate the convenience of a pencil as most of her early attempts with the quill resulted in uneven marks across the page. It took a few minutes and multiple tries before she finally felt comfortable enough to actually begin writing.
Putting the quill to the parchment, Astrid was mindful to be much more careful, lest she accidentally repeat her earlier mistake. Despite her attempts, the moment the writing utensil made contact with the page, a glob of ink spilled out from the quill, creating an unsightly black spot.
“Shoot,” Astrid muttered unhappily, disappointed that not even the time she spent practicing seemed to help her. As necessary as it was for her to learn how to read Equestrian, as Moondancer referred to her written language, Astrid still found herself yearning for a slightly easier way of. . .
Astrid looked down at her necklace, then summarily proceeded to pinch the bridge of her nose as grim realization descended upon her like a brick from on high as she mentally kicked herself for not thinking of it any sooner.
“After the bill proposed by Duchess Amore was passed, it was not long before a griffon ambassador by the title of Gestalt was admitted onto the royal committee, becoming the first non-equine to hold a position of power that directly influenced the royal court,” Moondancer said, making brief notes in large white letters on the board, along with a few simplistic illustrations. Astrid glanced between the mare and her necklace, a bit lost in her thoughts as she contemplated if what she was thinking would actually work or not. After all, in the brief amount of time that Misty had possession of it, nothing seemed to indicate that she could suddenly understand Astrid. But then, perhaps the case was that it had to be worn for its properties, whatever those happened to be, to take effect?
Whatever the case may be, Astrid knew she couldn’t afford not to test the idea as she opened her mouth to get Moondancer’s attention. Nothing came out however as her voice faltered in her throat, hesitant to interrupt the mare in the middle of her lesson. Her trepidation was rendered unfounded however when she noticed that her students were not entirely. . . invested, judging by the vacant expressions and slumped shoulders she was seeing. She was reasonably certain that Shimmer had since clocked out for a sitting nap. Suddenly, Astrid felt much less concerned about interrupting.
Reaching over, Astrid tentatively tapped against Moondancer’s rib cage, startling the mare and making her jump slightly at the unexpected contact. The chalk she had been holding started to fall, narrowly avoiding shattering on the floor as Moondancer caught it.
“P-please don’t do that again,” she said, placing a hoof over her chest. Although her tone was anything but harsh, sounding more on the side of being mildly perturbed, it still made Astrid shrink back in admonishment and utter a small apology. Setting her apprehension aside, she beckoned the mare over.
“Oh? Are you finished already?” she asked, a hint of what Astrid guessed to be excitement in her voice. Readjusting her glasses, Moondancer glanced at the papers. Her expression quickly morphed into a look of confused disappointment when she saw the uneven scratches and marks on the paper left over from Astrid’s previous attempts at ink-based calligraphy, almost none of which resembled anything close to legible writing. “Um. . . is that your alphabet?” she asked, clearly trying not to cause offense. Astrid shook her head, motioning for Moondancer to come a bit closer.
Uncertainty apparent in her demeanor, Moondancer stepped within about a foot of Astrid. She looked even more apprehensive when the imp motioned for to lower her head, but she obliged nonetheless.
“Here goes nothing I guess,” Astrid muttered with a sigh as she removed her necklace, gazing at it for a brief moment, hesitant to part with it for even a moment before steeling herself and offering it to Moondancer.
Rather than receiving it, Moondancer instead seemed to be taken by surprise by the gesture. She said something, but just like what happened with the foals, her speech consisted of a series of chuffs and other sounds that, on the surface, did not seem to resemble anything like a spoken language, and not for the first time Astrid was left slightly perturbed by the change.
Moondancer raised a hoof, trying to politely decline Astrid’s offer. Not in the mood to waste time on manners, Astrid rolled her eyes and lunged forward, grabbing the mare by the collar of her sweater. Moondancer made a small whinny of surprise as she was pulled over and down to about eye level with the imp, unable to move while the thin chain was affixed around her neck.
“There,” Astrid stated once she finished. She stepped back and asked, “Did that work? Can you hear me?”
Instead of answering right away, Moondancer held the necklace up with her hoof, regarding it with an air of nervousness, like it was about to bite her. Retaining the mare’s focus with a snap of her fingers, Astrid spoke up in the hopes that her theory was correct, making wide gestures to get her point across. “Listen, can you understand me? Just nod yes or no if you can.” Moondancer looked at Astrid, and for a brief moment she felt a bit of hope swell within her, ecstatic at the possibility of finally being understood. Her joy was fleeting however when, instead of responding in the manner she desired, Moondancer looked at her with a quizzical expression, uttering what seemed to be a question. Still holding onto the rapidly fading hope that her idea worked, Astrid once again asked while pointing at herself, “Can. You. Understand. Me?”
In spite of her hopes, Moondancer did nothing to confirm that Astrid had discovered a means of alleviating her situation, and instead only looked at her in apparent ignorance, clearly not at all grasping what she was saying in the slightest.
“Umm, is everything alright?” Moondancer questioned, concerned with the imps’ odd behavior. Astrid merely waved off the query, not in the mood to answer as she sat back down in a huff. She rubbed the face of her necklace with her thumb, once again left with the question of what exactly her father had given her.
“Okay then. I’m just going to-“ Moondancer stopped mid sentence when she finally took notice of the fact that at least a third of her class had since drifted off into the realm of sleep, and she let out a very loud and very cross, “Ahem!”
Instantly the foals jolted upward from their stupor, giving Moondancer their full attention. All except one. Shimmer had not taken notice of her teachers’ ire, her face firmly planted into her desk, completely oblivious to the look of intense disappointment she was getting. Rolling her eyes, Moondancer proceeded to levitate a very heavy looking tome over to the slumbering filly. Distracted from her thoughts, Astrid could not help but grin at what was about to happen. She was barely able to hold in a snicker. Holding above the filly’s desk for a moment, Moondancer released her hold her hold on the tome. The resulting thwack from the book impacting on the desk made Shimmer practically leap out of her seat as she let a high-pitched shriek of surprise.
“Glad you could rejoin us Shimmer,” said Moondancer, as though nothing happened while the filly put a hoof over her chest to ward off an impending heart attack. While she recovered, Moondancer shook her head, picking up the chalk and writing a series of sentences. “Since you all seem to be so engrossed, then I doubt you would mind if I gave you all a pop quiz.”
In response Moondancer was met with the lamentations of her students in the form of anguished groans. Astrid could only laugh at their plight until she was quieted by a look from Moondancer. Unwilling to stoke her ire any further, Astrid hurriedly turned her attention back to the paper and quill before her.
“Hard way it is then,” she muttered.
The hours passed by lethargically, dragging onward much too slowly to Astrid’s liking as she rested her head on her folded arms, waiting for Moondancer’s class to come to an end.
A tired sigh laced heavily with boredom escaped her lips, rustling the sheets of parchment in front of her. She had long since overcome most of her unfamiliarity with a quill to the point where she could actually replicate the English alphabet to a legible degree, the fruits of her efforts having since culminated into a three separate rows of letters and numbers, the first two being uppercase and lowercase letters.
But now that she was done with that, Astrid was left wondering what to do with the rest of her time while she waited on Moondancer to finish, or at least take a break, since the mare had indicated that she required nothing else of Astrid at this present time. To make her boredom even worse, Astrid could not even accurately guess how much time had passed given that, in the process of magicking an entire classroom into existence out of seemingly nothing, Moondancer had neglected to add windows. Of course, Astrid was in no particular hurry to be blinded by the sun for the umpteenth time, but it would at least let her gauge the time of day.
As such, Astrid was left with nothing better to do than sit, wait, and absentmindedly twiddle her thumbs and little arm spikes in the meantime.
On the upside, at least she could not claim that Moondancer’s lecture was the cause of her boredom, as she actually found her recounting the history of this strange world to be rather interesting, which was more than she could say for the mares’ actual students.
“And so, upon striking up a deal with the Western drake of Hoofshire, Duchess Amore was able to not only secure safety for the then burgeoning town, but also give it a much needed boost in the local economy as the hoards of gold that would otherwise be sitting in a cave were allowed to circulate.”
This and many other examples left Astrid somewhat enamored with the lesson, punctuated every so often by a question from Moondancer to ensure that her students were at least paying attention. Things that would have been considered fairytales were actual history, which was a surreal thought. But as riveting as it was to hear about the exploits of Duchess Amore and her eventual death by poisoning, it held little importance to Astrid’s immediate future, which in turn left her interest in it to be tangential at best.
Being stuck in one spot for so long was not helping either, as her limbs were starting to get restless. Astrid doubted that Moondancer would have cared if she moved around, but she refrained for fear of being a disruption.
Astrid slumped back in her seat, sighing heavily. There had to be something she could do to occupy herself.
Her eyes eventually landed on the quill and inkwell, and the gears in her brain began turning. She had not yet mastered writing with it just yet, but that didn’t mean that was all it could be used for. After all, she was given extra sheets of parchment to with as she pleased. Reaching over, she picked up the quill, and was about to dip into the inkwell when another thought entered her mind.
Why not make it a bit more interesting?
Seeing no harm in the thought, Astrid concentrated deeply as a lock of her orange hair rose upward, coiling like a strange serpent as it wrapped itself around the quill. It quivered violently, but somehow Astrid was still able to retain control over the pseudo-appendage as she began to doodle.
“Oooh,” she heard. She looked up, finding herself the center of attention as the foals gazed at her in wonder. She saw Misty stroke her mane, apparently jealous that she couldn’t do the same.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Moondancer interrupted, intent on continuing the lesson.
Mindful of the glances she was receiving, Astrid felt her cheeks heat up slightly. She ignored it, focusing instead on the blank paper in front of her. She started simple with easy shapes and lines, and over time she forgot that she was even trying to keep the quill steady as she became more accustomed with using her hair. Ironically, her linework was better when not using her hands, and before long Astrid felt comfortable enough to craft a small picture in the bottom left corner.
A pony.
Astrid hummed, amused by the little doodle, and continued to draw whatever came to mind, ranging from more ponies to even doodling herself. Time had little meaning to her anymore as she let herself become lost in the world of her imagination, and for a time she forgot what she was even doing as she let her actions dictate the results with no clear emphasis on conscious input.
Astrid so did not realize how distracted she had been by the simple act of drawing that she did not realize Moondancer had been speaking to her, until the mare tapped her hoof on the desk. With a small gasp of surprise Astrid was pulled out of her mild trance.
“You alright there?” she asked, looking at her in concern. “You kind of zoned out there for a while.”
‘A while?’ Astrid thought, and it was only then that she noticed she and Moondancer were the only ones in the room. The foals were nowhere to be seen, indicating the fact that the lesson was finished.
When did she. . ?
A little distressed that she had apparently been too distracted to notice that class ended, Astrid looked down her handiwork.
The moment her eyes fell on the parchment, she felt her heart lurch within her chest and her blood go cold.
“What do you have there?”
The question startled Astrid, sending a wave of panic through her. She watched in mortification as Moondancer reached a hoof over to the paper, curious to see what she made. Before she could the chance, Astrid snatched up the paper, crumpling into a little ball and tossing it aside, giving Moondancer a start as she retracted her hoof in surprise, looking between Astrid and the ball of parchment uncertainly.
“Um. . . is everything-“
Moondancer never got to finish her question before she was presented with another paper, courtesy of Astrid as she practically shoved it towards the mare. She accepted it, although not without trepidation as she regarded the imp with an expression of cautious befuddlement. She opened her mouth, another question forming on her lips. However, once more she found herself cut off as Astrid bypassed her completely, making a beeline for the door. Moondancer could only look on in confusion.
She looked at the paper in her hooves, reviewing the lines of unfamiliar text scrawled across it. It was fairly obvious to her that the imps’ penmanship was somewhat lacking in execution, but nevertheless became excited at the prospect of learning more about her strange guest, albeit with a little bit of help.
Just as she was about to take her leave of classroom, Moondancer’s eyes flicked towards the crumpled piece of paper sitting in the corner of the room. Her curiosity mounting with every moment it held her attention, Moondancer could only wonder what was so wrong about that it made the imp toss it aside.
Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore. Her horn lit up, bringing the parchment over. Checking to ensure that the imp was not watching, Moondancer smoothened it out, inspecting its contents. What she found left her confused, wondering what the matter was. As far as she could tell, it was simply a collection of innocent doodles of various different things, ranging from ponies, to what looked an illustration of her history lesson, and even a little doodle of short bipedal figure with long hair. A few images were completely unfamiliar to her. One in particular stood out in the bottom left corner of the page.
A collection of geometric lines and shapes, coalescing together into an ornate mask or headdress. It was a little unsettling to look at.
“Hmm,” she hummed, looking at the door. Shrugging, Moondancer folded it up neatly, storing it away in her desk. She proceeded to follow after the imp to see her students off and prepare for a trip into the city.
“What do you mean we can’t stay?" Sterling lamented, joined by Misty and Shimmer as they mirrored his protests, each of them pouting at Moondancer.
Having exactly none of it, Moondancer replied matter-of-factly, “Exactly what I said. Class is over, and it’s time for you three to go home.”
Despite her explanation, the displeasure of three foals remained unabated as she suddenly found herself assaulted by a chorus of dismayed groans, causing her to give them a deadpan look in annoyance. The worst part about it was that she could not necessarily bring herself to fault them for their foalish behavior, as she knew very well the reason behind their ambivalence towards leaving, currently sulking on her couch, inspecting her pendant with a vacant look in her eyes, and showing little to no interest in their conversation.
Undaunted by her students attempts to sway her, Moondancer continued on in packing up their belongings in their saddlebags and setting them upon their backs, all without raising so much as a hoof. “Nothing doing,” she stated. “If I don’t send you home, you’re parents will start to worry, and I’d rather have that not happen, understand.”
“But we want to stay and hang out with her,” Shimmer pleaded, pointing a hoof at the imp. The imp stammered, clearly caught off guard by the declaration as small blush spread across her face, and she gave off a nervous laugh, looking towards Moondancer for help.
“And I wanted to be an instructor at the Trottingham university, but we can’t always get what we want, can we?” she retorted, ushering her charges to the front door, ignoring their protests. Finally, they accepted defeat as they stopped resisting her, solemnly trudging their way out. “And Sterling,” she added, the colt freezing in place and looking back at her hesitantly. “I will be expecting a note back from Lilac.”
His mouth pulled taut in a grim expression, Sterling nodded.
Just as Moondancer was about to close the door, an exclamation of, “Etam nushi!” called out, and she was pushed to the side as the imp shoved past her, hesitating upon noticing that it was still bright out, standing anxiously at the edge of the shadow cast by Moondancer’s home. The exclamation did not go unnoticed by the foals, as Sterling hurried back over. “What's up?” he asked. Moondancer couldn’t see the imp’s face, though the way she wrung her small hands and muttered in her strange language was enough for her to guess that she was rather nervous about something.
Sterling looked at her confusion. At this imp offered one of her hands, uttering, “O-otagir eteruk etekusat.”
He glanced at the hand, and ignored it entirely as he surprised everypony by wrapping up the imp in a fond hug. The imp went completely rigid, her hair puffing outward in a clear display of mortification at the contact. Moondancer smirked in amusement at the sight, and could barely keep herself from chuckling as she placed a hoof over her mouth. Misty and Shimmer had no such reservations. “Aww!” they crooned in unison. Just when Moondancer she was going to have step in before the imp punted Sterling, he released her.
“See you later!” he said in farewell, joining his companions as they trotted away, chatting the whole way.
“You alright there?” Moondancer spoke up, seeing that the imp was had yet to move from her spot on her porch, doing a very good imitation of a statue. She looked at Moondancer, regarding the mare with a flat expression. It was all that Moondancer could do not to burst out laughing. She settled for a slow shake of her head and a taut grin that she did a poor job of hiding. With a motion of her head, she coaxed the imp back inside and out of sight.
Upon locking the door, she found herself confronted with anticipatory look and crossed arms as the imp waited expectantly on her.
“Do you need something?” she asked.
“Ka ianaw ediro mutsu uadstet o aw atana?” she answered, making a writing motion with her hand. Moondancer looked at her in confusion for a moment, until she realized what the she was asking of her.
“Oh right, that!” she exclaimed. “D-don’t worry, we’re going to get that figured out.” The imp smiled. “Not here though.” The smile instantly vanished, and Moondancer proceeded to explain. “Trust me, we’re going to get that done as soon as possible, but to do that we’re going to have to visit a. . . a um. . .” Moondancer faltered in her sentence, eventually forcing the words past the lump in her throat. “An acquaintance of mine. She knows more about this sort of thing than I do.”
The imp sighed, her shoulders sagging, and all Moondancer could hope was that she was not going to be too unhappy with the delay as she quickly started to prepare, packing up a saddlebag with various papers and notes she had surreptitiously taken regarding her guests’ behavior, as well as the writing she had provided. She stopped by her pantry, and only then remembered that she still needed to stop by the market. In lieu of a proper meal she settled for grabbing a portion of cashews, depositing them into a small cloth bag and hoping they would be enough to keep the creature sated until she could arrange for something more substantial.
Soon enough Moondancer had everything together, and started making her way out the front door, her charge following close behind. “So, once we get to her house,” she began as she trotted, “what’s going to happen is that I’m going to explain everything that happened. Hopefully with your writing we’ll actually be able to come up with some sort of dialogue. I do warn you though, she can get rather eccentric around. . .” Moondancer trailed off once she realized that her companion was not with her, and she looked back to find her standing at the edge of the shadow again, hesitant to step out into the sunlight, looking at her with uncertainty. Any annoyance that Moondancer felt at the delay was discarded, replaced by sympathy when she remembered the effect it had on her small body. She could not claim to know what that was like, but if nothing else Moondancer could hazard a guess that it was not exactly comfortable for her to endure.
“Oh, right,” she muttered, trotting back over. “Um, listen, uh. . . If you want I can. . . I don’t know. Maybe I can find a way around, see if there's a different road. Would you like that?” The imp opened her mouth to answer, before suddenly her eyes widened slightly upon seeing something behind Moondancer, stepping over to hide behind the mare. Moondancer looked, seeing a pair of stallions across the street from her house dressed in gleaming golden armor trotting by. She instantly recognized them as Royal Guard on their routine patrol.
“Them?” she asked, gesturing with a hoof. “You don’t have to worry about them you know. Trust me, the Royal Guard are good ponies.” The imp shook her head, unconvinced as she eyed the ponies warily, refusing to come out of hiding until they had gone. Moondancer sighed through her nose. Of course she would be shy around most ponies, especially considering her appearance. She could only imagine how most ponies would react upon seeing her in direct sunlight.
Moondancer put a hoof to her chin, trying to think of a way around the issue until an idea popped into her head. “Hold on a sec’,” she urged, going back inside and rooting through her coat closet. She soon returned with a large sun hat decorated with lace ribbon and a modestly sized pink parasol floating in her grip. “There, how’s that?” she asked upon depositing the hat onto the imps head.
The answer was obvious as the hat was much to large for imps’ head, the rim drooping down and almost completely obscuring her face view with only her small round chin showing. That was the idea however, as Moondancer hoped it would be enough to offer some sort of protection. The imp lifted the brim, readjusted the it slightly before tentatively stepping out into the light. From what Moondancer could see, the headwear seemed to do its job adequately enough as it shielded her from the sun. She proceeded to unfold the parasol, offering it over. The imp received it, twirling it around in her hands and inspecting it before cautiously venturing out into the sunlight, holding it tightly above her head.
“Ia,” she said, appearing satisfied. “Ousheduki ukamu, de erok e.”
Relieved that her solution worked, Moondancer nodded, a grin appearing on her muzzle in satisfaction. It helped that she looked rather adorable in the hat as well, which was more than Moondancer could ever claim. With that taken care of, the two were finally on their way, picking up where they left off.
“Come on, come on, where are those idiots?!” Nano Breeze exclaimed angrily, pacing anxiously back and forth along the train platform. With every impatient glance thrown to the timepiece mounted on the light pole her frustration grew, a sentiment that was shared among the other workers. All across the platform mares and stallions stood idly by with almost nothing to occupy their time other than to wait and wonder why the train had yet to arrive, all while trying to pacify the increasingly annoyed crowds of ponies wondering the same thing.
Nano Breeze was just glad that she didn’t have to deal with headache. It didn’t stop her from silently cursing whoever the cause behind the delay was. They were paid on commission after all.
Another ten minutes went by with no word on when to expect an answer, and soon Nano Breeze started to feel her frustration at being delayed gradually be replaced by concern. She stepped to the edge of the platform, spreading her wings to fly up and peering down the tracks in the vain hope that she might catch a glimpse of the train.
She couldn’t even make out the plume of steam from its engine, and her worry only increased.
Just as Nano Breeze was about to land, she noticed. . . something flitting across the edge of her vision between the trees. “Huh?” she mumbled, squinting in an attempt to get a better look. She saw it again, a pale jagged object, lazily floating from one tree to another. At first she thought it was a bird of some sort, and was about to pass it off as such, but something didn’t feel right about her initial assessment. It certainly didn’t have the profile of any bird she had ever seen. It didn’t fly like one either.
The thing flew closer, alighting upon an outstretched branch a dozen or so yards away. Nano Breeze narrowed her eyes at the thing.
“Is that a bug?” she said aloud in question, unsure what to quite make of what she was seeing. Judging by how the thing was visible from this distance, Nano Breeze estimated that, if it was indeed some form of insect, it was at least as big as her head, if not slightly larger. The thought of such a monstrous thing flittering around sent a shiver down her spine and caused the fur along her spine to stand on end.
“Breeze!” a voice shouted from below startling her. She looked down to find Crisp Heart glaring upward at her, a heavy scowl on his face. “Get your green flank down here and help me get the War Wagonready!”
Nano Breeze rolled her eyes at the stallion, looking back to the insect, only to find that the thing had suddenly disappeared. She glanced around, dismayed that she had lost sight of it, rendered wholly uncomfortable with not knowing where it flew off to. Having no desire to be in the air in the case that the horrid thing was flittering around somewhere, Nano Breeze hurried back down solid ground.
Within minutes they had set up the War Wagon. Despite its name, the War Wagon was in actuality the dingy old train car, modified to be purely pony operated and outfitted with all manner of repair tools. Most of the stallions seemed to like the name, although Nano Breeze would hardly see the appeal herself. Soon enough they were on their way, unaided by Crisp Heart's near constant yelling and ordering around, slowly gaining speed on the slope down the mountain. Nano Breeze was unsure what her role was supposed to be, wishing that she would’ve been allowed to stay at the platform, but Crisp Heart wasn’t going to hear any of it, leaving her nothing better to do than stare bitterly at the back of the stallions' head.
As they left the city behind in favor of a dense setting pinewoods, Nano Breeze kept a cautious eye aimed at the trees, scanning for any sign of movement as thoughts of the insect invaded her mind, filling her mild paranoia. She saw nothing however, and came to the conclusion that it buggered off somewhere.
Just as well though. Nano Breeze would be happy if she never saw it again.
Light
It felt light.
It was everywhere, its senses nearly overwhelmed. The light was everywhere, yet it did not burn.
It was made to endure the light. It had to, in order to fulfill its purpose.
Consume. Consume the light, make it better. Yes, make the light better.
Purify the light for its master.
Searching. Where was the light coming from?
Up there.
The light was coming from up there, on the mountain.
Its path was set. Follow the trail. Follow the trail to the light.
Consume the light.
Astrid had never truly realized how much she absolutely hated having to drag around an old itchy tarp, relying on it as her sole means of protecting herself from the sun's rays until she traded it in for the parasol that Moondancer provided. She couldn’t be more thankful for the exchange, and would be happy if she never had to put her scalp at risk by donning that thing ever again.
She had some reservations regarding the color of the parasol, as she had never been too fond of pink. The hat she felt was also bordering on the edge of overdoing it in terms of shade, as it was much too large for her comparatively small head, and often slid down over her eyes. More than once she had to slow down to readjust it, then sprint to catch up with Moondancer as they made their way into the city. She was more than willing to overlook those minor complaints, and Astrid was certainly not going to let them become known to Moondancer for fear of coming off as ungrateful. She only wished that the mare would be courteous enough to slow down just a bit.
Within ten minutes of leaving Moondancer’s home, Astrid’s unfortunately limited gait had quickly led to her becoming rather short of breath as she struggled to keep pace. The difference in their stride was not at all helped by the fact that Moondancer seemed nervously eager to reach their destination, whatever that happened to be. She seemed just as anxious being out in public as she all but galloped ahead of Astrid.
Eventually Astrid simply could not take it anymore, and she called out after Moondancer. “H-hey! Wait up a sec’!” she blurted between gulps of air as she slowed to a stop, bent over with her hands on her knees. Moondancer took notice of her strained request, and promptly came to a halt, turning around to meet back up with her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled abashedly, her brow furrowed in a show of concerned embarrassment. Astrid acknowledged the apology with a wave of her hand, too tired to give a proper response. It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps it was a good thing she hadn’t eaten anything yet, as she likely would have been throwing it up right about now.
After waiting a moment to let Astrid recover they set off again, with Moondancer trotting at a notably slower pace than before as she glanced nervously at their surroundings every so often. Her nervous demeanor struck Astrid as somewhat odd, though she could not deny that she emphasized with the mare as she hid behind her parasol whenever another pony passed them by. Almost all of said ponies gave them sidelong stares and odd glances upon noticing their behavior. Soon their journey took them into a part of the neighborhood that was of a noticeably higher class than where Moondancer resided, giving Astrid a sort of Greek Beverly Hills feeling. Even the residents seemed to be of a slightly higher social standing based on their apparel, with a majority of the mares and stallions sporting fancy hairdos and stylish apparel. By comparison, the two strangers making their way through stuck out like unkempt dandelions amidst a community of snooty roses.
Astrid huddled a bit closer to Moondancer, and was relieved when it seemed that they finally arrived at their destination; a small house relative to its neighbors, sporting a lawn that was filled to capacity with ferns, flowers, and various other potted plants. The only part that was not obstructed was the pathway of quartered stone leading up to the front door.
“Come again?” Astrid said, suddenly feeling very alarmed.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Moondancer added, raising a hoof to knock on the door, heedless of Astrid’s rising panic.
“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying anything,” she declared in a none too polite fashion, and both mare and imp were taken aback by the harshness of her tone.
“What? N-no, we’re not here to sell anything,” Moondancer blurted out in surprise, taking a small step back. “We’re here to-“
“Who’s “we”?”
Stammering at the interruption, Moondancer struggled to respond before opting instead to step aside. An annoyed expression crossed her muzzle when Astrid followed her movement, unwilling to let herself be seen for fear of being tackled as she had been warned.
“Would you relax? She’s not the one I talked about, you don’t need to worry,” Moondancer admonished, placing a hoof behind her back and gently coaxing her into view despite Astrid’s protests. It was all for naught however, as she was brought out into the open with only her parasol to protect her. Shooting Moondancer a dirty look, Astrid gave in and decided to at least be courteous and greet the mare properly, even if she didn’t.
“H-hello,” she mumbled demurely, giving a little wave of her hand.
No response was forthcoming, aside from the mares’ eyes widening ever so slightly upon making contact with the imp. Her mouth hung open a bit, and Astrid could practically see her muscles tense up.
The way she looked at Astrid. . . there was something about it that she couldn’t quite pick out. It was almost as if the mare was sizing her up, and Astrid felt her innards coil in discomfort. She didn’t like it, not one bit. Deciding that she was done with introductions, she dove back behind Moondancer, meeting the mares gaze from around a back leg, earning an exasperated sigh. Astrid didn’t care if Moondancer was getting fed up with her though, preferring cowardice over being subjected to the strangers’ unblinking glare. There was just something about her that did not make her feel safe in the slightest, and the sooner the exchange was over the happier she would be.
Shaking her head, “Moondancer said, “Look, ma’am-“
“Bon-Bon,” the mare corrected, not even bothering to look at Moondancer as she kept her eyes firmly glued to Astrid.
“Whatever. Listen, we’re looking for somepony named Lyra Heartstrings. Did we get the wrong house or-“
“No, you’re in the right place. Lyra lives here,” Bon-Bon interrupted for the second time.
“Rude much?” Astrid muttered aggressively, not bothering to hide her distaste at how inhospitable the mare was being. She took a grim satisfaction at seeing Bon-Bon recoil at the utterance. Astrid felt a grin tug at her lips, until she was quickly shushed by Moondancer. Her hair flared outward in admonishment. “What? I didn’t do anything!” Moondancer seemed not to care, and Astrid huffed. She still kept her glare fixed on Bon-Bon, until finally the mare finally seemed uncomfortable enough to address Moondancer directly.
“Who wants to know?” she demanded, her cyan eyes flicking towards the imp every so often.
“Moondancer. I’m a. . . acquaintance I guess, of Lyra. We were just hoping that she could help us with. . . well.” Her flicked toward Astrid.
Bon-Bon cocked an eyebrow at them, her eyes narrowing in obvious suspicion. “Moondancer?” she questioned. “Yeah, I think I remember Lyra mentioning you. Said you were friends.”
At the statement Moondancer scratched at her fetlock. “Well, I don’t know about “friends” per se. Can we see her?”
Bon-Bon shook her head tersely, looking almost pleased to say, “Sorry, your out of luck lady. Lyra’s down in Ponyville house hunting. She asked me to watch the place for her while she’s away.”
“She’s moving?” Moondancer exclaimed in mild surprise. Astrid, sensing where the conversation was going, exhaled heavily with impatience.
“Yeah. Course you would know that if you actually stayed in touch," Bon-Bon remarked flippantly. Apparently deciding that they were done talking, she started to close the door, casting one last glance at Astrid before practically slamming the door in their faces.
For a few long moments Moondancer just stood there on the porch, and Astrid wondering why they were not already leaving. She skirted around Moondancer, caught off guard when she saw that the mares face was, for lack of a better word, disheartened. Her eyes glistened behind her glasses, and suddenly all of the feelings of hostility Astrid felt were swept aside as asked after her wellbeing. Moondancer flinched at the question, clearly not understanding her exact meaning but still replying with a quick, “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
Astrid was unconvinced, but didn’t press the issue as Moondancer took her, almost breaking out into a full gallop. Following after the mare, Astrid looked back at the house, seeing something flicker in the windows. Shaking her head, she hurried after Moondancer, having no intention to be left behind.
“Well that was a bust.”
The statement seemed an inadequate description of the day's events, especially coming from Moondancer as she took a seat next to Astrid on a bench beside the street. They had long since left the community of fancy houses and prissy ponies behind, and by unspoken accord took a break in front of what appeared to Astrid to be a deli. There was no meat to be seen, making her question if it could really be called as such, but she was too disappointed in the lack of progress to care.
“You think?” she said sourly, accepting the snack offered to her, purchased just a moment ago from the deli. She was about to take a bite, eager to sate her hunger, before hesitating, peeling back the bread and inspecting its contents. The disappointment she felt was immeasurable upon discovering it laden with bits of flowers and grass. Sighing, she began the process of scraping it out, mayonnaise and all, leaving her with two bread slices and a strip of lettuce.
She nibbled on it absently, the memory of Bon-Bon still fresh on her mind no matter how she tried to forget it. The way the mare looked at Astrid. . . it was different from how other ponies did. Whereas most of the ponies that saw her regarding her with varying degrees of apprehension, the way Bon-Bon looked at her was unnerving in a way she couldn’t readily describe, which left an ill feeling stirring within her.
She missed home.
Suddenly finding the sandwich unappealing, Astrid discarded it into the trash bin next to the bench.
“Sorry.”
Astrid turned her head, regarding Moondancer with a quizzical look, initially not understanding what she was apologizing for. Her meal sitting half eaten beside her and a contemplative expression adorning her face, Moondancer heavy a weary sigh laden with dejection.
“Sorry that things didn’t quite work out like I’d hoped. I really thought she’d be there” she clarified, removing her glasses to wipe at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Astrid fidgeted nervously beside the mare, feeling a pang of sympathy for her. Unsure if it was proper of her, Astrid scooted a bit closer, placing her hand tentatively on Moondancer’s withers in an attempt to convey her sympathy. Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind the contact. “I just. . . why did nopony tell me she was moving? Am I just that busy?” she questioned allowed with a shake of her head. Astrid for her part had no idea what she was talking about, and could only offer a shrug in response.
Replacing her glasses upon her snout, Moondancer looked at Astrid. “Thanks anyway,” she said, putting a hoof to her chin. “I just don’t know what to do now that the only pony I think who can help us isn’t even around.”
Astrid dipped her head, equally disappointed with the news, crossing her arms in dejection as she leaned back into the bench. A pony across the street eyed them as she walked by. Astrid glared at her until she trotted past, becoming fed up with the unwanted attention.
“Actually. . .” Moondancer said suddenly.
“What?” Astrid asked, looking to her with a renewed sense of hope.
Moondancer flinched at the utterance, apparently surprised that Astrid had heard her. “Huh? Oh!” she exclaimed, waving her hoof. “S-sorry, just thinking out loud here. Don’t worry about it.”
Astrid didn’t buy the obvious attempt at allaying the subject, something she made abundantly clear as she stood up on the bench, meeting Moondancer’s eyes as she placed her hands on her hips. She cocked one eyebrow for added effect. If there was something, or someone, or somepony Moondancer knew could help her in some way, then she was not going to let it slide.
Moondancer regarded Astrid with obvious nervousness, looking rather intimidated by the imp glaring at her in suspicion. She held her gaze for a moment, trying and failing not to slip. The staring contest lasted for almost minute until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. With a relenting sigh Moondancer begrudgingly admitted, “Alright fine. You win.” Astrid grinned, feeling smug. “I know another pony actually. One who might, might be willing to help us out with this whole. . . thing.”
As soon as Astrid heard those words, a faint kindling of hopefulness was reignited within Astrid. It was summarily drenched in the sour taste of disappointment when Moondancer added, “It’s a bit of a trot though. Her place is halfway across Canterlot. If we leave now, we should be there before Celestia lowers the sun.”
Astrid felt her entire body sag as her weariness from before caught up with her. The walk from Moondancer’s house to here had been roughly twenty minutes or so, and that alone had left her small legs sore. To hear that she would have to endure another hour or so of trudging behind Moondancer left her heavily reconsidering if she was up for that.
She stowed the thought, however. If there was any means by which she could finally start making progress on getting home, she couldn’t afford to let her weariness get the better of her. Steeling herself for the trek, Astrid hopped off the bench, grabbed the parasol, and gestured for Moondancer to lead the way. The mare obliged, doing little to hide her begrudging anxiety while she led them to their next, and hopefully last, destination.
Within five minutes of re-embarking upon their journey through the city, Astrid was already panting heavily, sweat streaming down her face and her hair sticking to her brow in wet clumps. In spite of her resolve her body rebelled against her.
Privy to her companions’ difficulties, Moondancer took notice of Astrid’s exertions just as she started to lag behind. “Are you okay? Do you want to take a break or something?”
The only answer Astrid was able to provide to the concerned inquiry was shaky thumbs-up; a poor attempt at feigning wellness when coupled with her doubled over and ready to collapse while sucking in great breaths of air, and Astrd’s loathsome disposition to her stature started blooming into outright disdain.
Just then Astrid realized that Moondancer had moved to sit beside her, motioning towards her back with a flick of her head. “Hop on,” she sighed.
Astrid hesitated, taken completely by surprise by the offer as a startled “Wha-huh?” flew from her lips.
Keeping her expression blank, Moondancer’s stoic demeanor was betrayed her face becoming noticeably red, and she responded to Astrid’s stunned confusion with, “It doesn’t help either of us if you run yourself ragged before we even get there. Now are you going to get on yourself, or am I going to have to do it?”
Feeling rather put off by Moondancer’s gruffness, Astrid inevitably decided that she would prefer not be manhandled as she obliged, taking the mare up on her offer. Stepping behind Moondancer, Astrid awkwardly clambered onto her back, using her sweater to hang on to. Eventually Astrid felt she was as secure as she was going to be, and she gave Moondancer the go-ahead with a pat on the side. Wobbling a bit as the mare stood up, she grabbed a fistful of her mane in each hand to steady herself.
“Ow! Watch it!”
“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Astrid apologized frantically, loosening her grip on the mane. While she could couldn’t be sure as most of her vision was occupied by the back of Moondancer’s head, Astrid was fairly certain that the mare was rolling her eyes.
“Ready?” she asked. Upon giving her confirmation, Moondancer set off, starting off with a slow trot to allow Astrid to become accustomed before gradually picking up the pace until they were travelling at a brisk trot through the city.
Astrid found the experience of being ferried around on Moondancer’s back to be equal parts nerve wracking and exhilarating for all sorts of reasons, foremost among them being that she could say with a substantial amount of confidence that she was in all likelihood the first person to be given a ride on what was essentially a mythical creature. Even if said mythical creature had her own reservations about the arrangement, it did little to keep a giddy smile from spreading across the imps face, uncaring towards the curious glances of ponies as they walked past.
“Alright. Ride’s over.”
“Wait, what? Already?” Astrid said, surprised and rather disappointed to realize they had already arrived. She supposed that, without her holding them up with her limited gait, they would arrive much quicker. Yet as much as Astrid desired to get a move on, she admittedly would have minded if Moondancer chose to take her time.
With a begrudging moan, Astrid dismounted, taking in the scenery while Moondancer stretched, arcing her spine much like a cat.
As far Astrid could tell, Moondancer seemed to have taken her to some sort of public park, albeit one that was much different than the one she met Sterling in. For starters, it was immediately apparent that a greater amount of care and attention had been given to keeping it presentable, as evidenced by the neatly trimmed grass and immaculately pruned trees dotted about. Even the stone pathways seemed to be polished to the point where they practically reflected the sunlight. Astrid found the last of these to be rather bothersome to her vision, an unfortunate trend she had noticed and long since began to despise about the city in general. Everything was just too bright. Maybe in addition to the parasol and hat, Moondancer might have a pair of sunglasses on hand. . . hoof that she could let her borrow?
Astrid filed the question away for later as she followed Moondancer, the mare leading her to an observatory. The sight of it tickled her memory, and in moments time Astrid recognized it as the same one on the portion of map she’d ripped out of the newspapers. Crossing over a small bridge, Astrid could not help but notice that Moondancer’s demeanor had changed somewhat. Her eyes were wide, her brow furrowed, and her mouth was pulled in a nervous line. Astrid swore she even looked a little green. By the time they reached large door of the observatory, Moondancer was all but hyperventilating and muttering to herself, “I can do this, everything’s fine. You can do this Moondancer, all you have to do is knock. That’s it, just. . . knock. That’s all.”
Astrid groaned, her patience with the mare’s trepidation wearing thin by the second. She cleared her throat, hoping to prompt her into action. Moondancer practically jumped out of her fur at the provocation.
“R-right. Sorry,” she stammered in clear anxiousness, her mouth pulled in a sheepish grin. “Just, you know, working up the courage. Give me a second.”
Astrid quirked an eyebrow, not blind to the mares attempt at stalling, her apprehension on display for all the world to see as it was made abundantly clear to her that Moondancer was extremely averse to even being here. As curious as she was to know why she was acting like this, Astrid had other, slightly more pressing concerns on her mind. After an entire minute went by with nothing to show for the time wasted, it eventually became clear to Astrid that she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. With a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head, Astrid reached her hand over, rapping her knuckles on the polished wood. The look of absolute horror that flashed across Moondancer’s expression was simultaneously both alarming and impressive to behold, and Astrid was caught off guard when she said in a panicked tone, “No! No, please wait a second!” Practically begging she added, “Please, I’m begging you! I can’t be here, you gotta believe me!”
“What are you talking about?!” Astrid blurted, alarmed by the mares sudden and inexplicable panic. Why could she be here? Did that mean Astrid shouldn’t be here? Was she in danger or something? The answers to her questions were not forthcoming, as just then her ears twitched in response someone approaching from the other side of the door, their footfalls sounding distinctly different from the click of hooves she had become familiar with. Moondancer noticed it as well, and her panic only seemed to intensify.
“Oh no!” she said darting her head to and fro before frantically diving headfirst into a nearby bush with her tail poking out, leaving Astrid dazed and confused, wondering if she should follow the mares example. Before she could make up her mind, the door opened behind her. Ignoring Moondancer’s strange antics, Astrid turned around, finding herself greeted by a. . . a. . .
“Um. . . hi?” the dragon greeted, his face contorted into an expression of surprise and uncertainty. Astrid reciprocated the look with one to match, slowly raising a hand a giving a little wave.
“Hey there.”
The dragon, for Astrid was unsure what else to classify the bipedal purple lizard thing as, blinked at her, obviously not comprehending her language. Astrid’s disappointment was brief as an uneasy silence ensued while dragon and imp stared at each other in awkward quietude. Was this the individual that Moondancer wanted to see? If so then Astrid supposed she should probably say something, but at the moment was unsure what to classify as being more odd to her; the short talking purple dragon, or the mare cowering in the bushes. The dragon inevitably took notice of said mare, spotting her tail poking out of the shrubbery, and from the way he squinted his reptilian green eyes Astrid could tell that similar thoughts were running through his own head. He looked at her in question, to which could only offer a shrug.
“Who’s at the door Spike?” a second voice called from somewhere inside.
The dragon, now identified as Spike, answered over his shoulder, “I don’t really know Twilight. I think you should come down.”
Even Astrid could overhear the disgruntled sigh of impatience echoing from within, and a few moments later a mare appeared behind Spike, smelling of parchment and ink, her coat a striking shade of violet. Large bags cradled her purple eyes, evidence of at least a few sleepless nights, and the bangs of her mane were split and unkempt, culminating in a haggard appearance that rivaled Moondancer's. Blinking blearily and struggling to stifle a yawn, Twilight began to say, “Spike, I’ve already told you this, I don’t like seeing visitors when I’m in the middle of important-“ She cut whatever she was about to say short when she finally took notice of their guest, and almost instantly all traces of weariness seemed to vanish from her countenance. “Oh.” She mumbled simply. “Hello there.”
Astrid’s grip tightened around her parasol, and she dipped her head slightly, feeling rather self conscious all of a sudden.
“Is that. . ?” she said, squinting her eyes sat the strange sight, before widening in surprised recognition. “Moondancer? Is that you?”
As soon as her name was mentioned, Moondabcer’s head shot out of the top of the bush, her glasses askew and her mane freshly adorned with sticks and leaves. Smiling as though none of what she was doing were strange in the slightest, or at least trying to and failing from Astrid’s point of view, Moondancer replied in an overly cheerful manner, “H-hi there T-Twilight! Fancy seeing you here! Heh heh. What are you doing around these parts?”
Twilight blinked. “I live here.”
“Oh! Is that so? I never knew. Funny, right? Heh.”
With everybody present regarding Moondancer with looks of befuddlement, especially from Astrid as the imp skewed her head and pulled her upper lip back in a bewildered sneer, Twilight proceeded to ask, “What are you doing?”
“I’d like to know that too,” Astrid mumbled to herself, catching herself when she noticed the dragon looking at her with interest, and turned away to avoid his curious gaze.
“Oh, n-nothing honestly,” Moondancer answered, waving her hoof in a poor attempt at nonchalance. “Just uh, you know, checking out the local Canterlot flora and categorizing them into their local subgroupings. You know how it is.”
“Oh. Well that’s nice.” Twilight turned to Spike, commenting to him rather smugly, “See Spike? I told you I wasn’t the only one who did that.”
“That just means you’re both due for an asylum visit,” he countered, chuckling at his own remark. Twilight was not as amused by the quip, shooting him a harsh stare. Astrid on the other hand nearly choked as she struggled to keep a laugh from escaping her lips. Spike grinned, pleased with himself. The grin vanished when he saw Twilight’s frown continue to deepen.
“Alright, fine,” he muttered, throwing up his little arms in defeat. “I’ll get back to sorting. At least someone appreciates my humor.” With that the little dragon departed back into the observatory just as Moondancer finished extricating herself from the snagging branches of the bush, bits of plant matter still adhering to her, as she tentatively trotted up to stand slightly behind Astrid. Even then the imp could practically feel the pent-up anxiety that radiated from the mare. While Moondancer busily cleared the loose pieces of foliage away, Astrid waited for either her or Twilight to say something.
Moments passed.
Twilight coughed into her hoof.
Moondancer finished cleaning herself up.
Astrid’s impatience mounted, her small foot tapping on the pavement.
“So. . .” said Moondancer.
“Yep. . .” replied Twilight.
A scowl appeared on Astrid’s brow as the frustrating realization set in. “Oh great,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “They’re both nerds.” Deciding that she was done waiting around, Astrid surprised them both when she proceeded to skirt past Twilight, parting with a declaration of, “I’ll be inside when you two decide to stop being weird. I’m going to hang out with the lizard.”
Author's Note
Welcome back everyone! I hope that you are all doing well, and that you enjoyed reading this installment of Eventide. I do apologize for a how long it took to get this one out given how relatively short it is compared to its predacessors. There have been quite a number of events going on irl, not the least among being that I'm moving. As such I have not been able to focus on writing as much as I would prefer, but I am glad that you are willing to bear with me in the meantime.
