A Dance With The Devil

Fifth

“At last, I can compete with thee in terms of a mane messier. What do you think?”

He groaned a low hum. A large amount of saliva drooled out his lips, creating a large puddle on the bed and pillow. Do I slaver a lot. He rubbed it off and his eyes. “Good . . . morning to you,” he said, naughty strands of mane flailing and covering part of his vision. Light noted that her green mane had been tied into an ostentatiously messy bun. And he had to kind of agree with her; she was a close second compared to his hair.

“And a good morning to you,” she gave back. “If you could consider two hours after noon a morning.”

“Oh. It’s really two?”

“Yes. You could come and eat your meal, if you want. Collin and I broke the fast four hours ago. Eggs and toast and milk we had. Yours is still on the table for you.”

“Well, thanks.” He smiled. Light got off the bed, quickly making it. The pegasus looked his eyes up, clearly seeing his mane in shambles. “Oh, and Flaura, by the way, my mane is much more messier than yours.”

“Are you sure of that? That’s it? Nothing else?”

He blew a tuft. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure,” replied he. She gave an indignant tsk at that.

As expected, Light saw a plate filled with food, a glass of milk beside it. The day seemed not bright. Maybe it was because of the towering canopies that blocked the sun, or perhaps the weather had been planned—a cloudy afternoon. But whatever the reason may be, it was crisp and nice.

Light started on his toast first. Flaura observed him eat, intently watching. He had a gulp of milk, the glass now half-empty.

“So, where’s Collin?”

“The colt is doing a thing that is ‘important;’ I haven’t a clue. He was gone for most of time, save breakfast. I ought tell you: the foal is up to something, and I’m confident it’s of a weird nature.”

“Huh.” Light took another bite. It was crunchy and hard. “How was your day so far?”

She blinked. “Fine, if you want me frank. I had my mane done by the grandmother, in what she called a ‘messy bun.’ She thought it looked appropriate for me.” Flaura poked it carefully.

“Is that so? Well, she is right; it does fit you.”

“Why, thank you. I think it looketh nice, yes.”

“It sure does.” Light was halfway his first toast, but he was not hungry. He never had that urge, really. Light put the fork down. “I think I’m done now. I amn’t that hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten for gods know how long,” Flaura pointed out. “That’s a tad long without food, no?”

“I’ll be fine,” Light said, getting up and stretching his wings. The two stared awkwardly. “What . . . do you want to do now?”

“Erm, perchance we can go to library in search of the maps she talked of,” she recommended. “I waited for you to come with me.”

“Sure, we can do that, I guess.”

Precisely what he thought, the weather was cold and breezy, like there had been a snowstorm. But that snowstorm would’ve been soft, for the leaves that fell moved anything but hard. Light noted that there was nopony around. The townsfolk must’ve been in their cabins, dozing off under daylight. He wondered why Collin was up in this time, for the bat ponies are nocturnal.

“Over here.” The library was a much larger cottage than the rest, but still looked the same. It was also painted a dark purple.

Light opened the door for her. “After you.”

She gave a smug smile whilst entering.

Filled to the brim of the room was books, scrolls. Even the ceiling had some bookshelves hanging off it, metal bars sticking out beside them for what he assumed was for the bat ponies. Lamps lighted from the corners, reminiscent of the medieval times.

A bat pony mare seemed to drowse from her chair, the librarian most probably. Light walked up to her. “Um, excuse me, but can you direct us to the maps, please?”

The bespectacled pony jerked up and slapped her thigh mushily. “Wha? What?” She coughed and realised there was somepony in front of her, patient. “Oh. Sorry! What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to know where the maps are.”

“Oh. Well, then, right this way, good sir!” The mare launched, hitting a bookshelf and crashing down, books falling with her. He cringed. The mare’s hoof hastily pointed to a corner, the limb collapsing back into the pile.

Flaura had her hoof smacked on her face the entire time. “You get the maps and I’ll help with her mess . . .” Light went on his way, glancing back in concern.

The drawer was full of maps. Light took one out. The Map of Thestralvania. Huh. It’s this town . . . The town was bigger than he thought, some parts hidden in thickets. They were in the clearest part of it, near the centre. Light new that bat ponies rathered a dim atmosphere. He rummaged through some maps: one of Canterlot, Applewood, Maretonia, the Frozen North, Yakyakistan, Mount Aris and Basalt Beach.

The Map Constellations.

Flaura treaded, eyeing the scroll. Light found a spot, leaning back against the shelves and landing his plot on the carpet.

“It’s the map of the stars.”

“Is your home amongst the stars in space itself?” Flaura remarked, scoffing.

“No, but I like to see this first. Is that fine?”

She snorted. “Fine.”

Light spread it. The pictures were even more detailed than he would’ve thought, but they were. There were two circles, representing the north and south hemispheres. Many familiar names came up.

Flaura pointed onto one. “Auriga.” she stated.

“Yeah. Auriga.”

“Is he an astronomer, your friend?” Flaura asked.

“Nope. He’s more of a sports guy.”

“Oh.”

“Mhmmm.”

“So why is his name Auriga, then? It makes sense not, now I think of it.”

“Ponies can get confused as to why his name is that.”

“Elaborate.”

He leaned back. “When Auriga’s mother was young, she wasn’t loved by her father. She sang really well, and he made her do things that made her lose her childhood; she hadn’t it. She was his money making machine. He would hit and slap and punch her when she did even the slightest mistake. Some parents do this because they needed to discipline their child, but in this case, it’s not: it’s to be a perfectionist. When older, she fell in love with Auriga’s father, a charioteer. She finally felt love.

“Auriga kept on reminding me that his mother never received love, and he told me the story. He asked his mother on why she had named Auriga. She told him that the word Auriga meant ‘the charioteer.’ And she told him that even if she and his father were gone, they would be watching him in the sky, as a constellation, streaking through the sky in a chariot forevermore. That’s his mothers story.”

“Wow,” she said, furrowing her brow. “She must love him very much.”

“She did. She really, really did.”

Flaura rubbed her foreleg. “So . . . let’s find the map, shall we?”

Lightning fished for the map until he found it.

He grabbed on side of the parchment while she took the other, and they pulled. Many illustrations of cities new and old jumped out of the page with their bright colours, clearly making a picture of his land.

“Oh, my . . .” Flaura placed a hoof on the map. She looked like she wanted to say something, but didn’t. She was, undoubtedly, silently surprised. She mumbled words under her breath, her eyes darting all over the names.

Light scanned the map. “We’re . . . here,” he declared. “We’re right here. Thestralvania.”

It was a town deep in the woods, south of Foal Mountain. To the west was Canterlot, and even more so and a bit south was Ponyville.

That’s the target.

“Alright. So we’re here . . . and you need to get here.” He circled Canterlot. “Then I’ll go here.” He circled Ponyville.

“It’s closer than I thought,” Flaura admitted, out of her daze. “It’s only a few days worth of walking to Canterlot. We need only few rations and water and we can walk there.”

“Yup. We can head up the trail and get you back. I can take a train back home.”

She blinked, looking confused. “A . . . train?”

“Yup. It’ll only take a few hours to get to Ponyville.”

“Ah.” She smacked her lips. “Do that, then. With the . . . train.”

“Alright.”

Light was about to put the map back, but Flaura placed a firm grip on it. “I want to see it. Please?”

Flaura studied the map with great curiosity. It seemed she had great interest in the larger cities such as Manehattan and Fillydelphia, but particularly at Canterlot. She stared hard at Canterlot, like she’d never seen it before. And he thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a little peek on Equestria.

The east and west coasts had a lot of the major cities, mainly because they were ports, some of them dating back a time long ago. Their towers shining white with their metal and glass was as clear as day on the map, less frequent than central Equestria. Where the old settlements are in here, central Equestria. Rivers of many snaked their way through city to city, and in the centre was Canterlot. It was where he was born, where he grew up, under the watch of his parents, until he moved to Ponyville. It was a nice place, with good food and scenery, but the quietness he so wanted could be found not here, so he seeked a place elsewhere, anywhere but there. He had found the perfect place.

Flaura dropped the map to her thighs, fishing for another map. Her eyes glistened when she found it. The map of Itaily.

“You are Itailian, right?” Light asked. He felt kind of stupid to ask that.

“Yes, I am.” Flaura confirmed. “Though I talk not a lot of my mother tongue.” She hushed when she placed a hoof on the map. “I wished I knew Itaily more. That would be nice . . .”

Something about her guise was afraid. She looked afraid. Scared. A cafard. It was haunting, her melancholy. And yet she also seemed neutral; she really did. Flaura stroked the map like it was a child of her own.

“I . . . have to go. I will be busy.” Flaura hastily raised to her hooves. She waved the map to the bat pony. “May I have permission to borrow this?” The mare stuck out her tongue, cheekily smiling. Flaura bursted out.

★★★★★★★★★

She felt pecking on her face.

Her face was being nipped by the crow, eager in its goal. “H—hey! Get off!” Twilight scooted it out with a wing, the bird raising high and scowling. Its brethren materialised by its side, the lot flying off into their next adventure.

She breathed. The air was much cooler than she thought, infested with the sounds she knew not of; sounds of merchants and foals and trotting, yelling things she did not understand, she didn’t hear anything like it back home. It was scary being here. And distant too. A ring of a massive bell rung, shattering the wind and the ground and her eardrums.

“AH!” Luna yelped, clutching her forelegs. The princess hyperventilated. “W—where are we? Where is she?”

The open window allowed for the thrashing of a cloth, an old rag. There was no glass at all, just ragged stone edges crafted hastily. Twilight threw away the veil.

They were nowhere near Equestria.

She placed the cloth back to its place.

“Princess, to answer your question, I don’t think the question is where, but when.”

Luna treaded in front of the window, allowing the view to be absorbed. She shook her head when the epiphany arrived. “No, this can’t be . . .” Luna’s horn sparked, but nothing happened. She tried once more, to no avail. Luna casted another spell, lighting her horn. The light didn’t stay for more than a second as it merely vanished into nothingness. “I—I can’t get us out of here! I don’t know how!” The princess pulled the cloth out from its pins.

A glistening bay appeared before them, jagged rocks forming it and carving out the outline of the border between land and sea. The great Mount Vehoovius loomed, the breadth making the mountain that Canterlot was on look like a mere bump, made by accident, irrelevant.

Just out of sight of the volcano was a smudge of red and grey, a smaller town than where they were standing on. The difference between the modern day and “now” was clear when they chanced a glance at the ponies below.

“Mount Vehoovius . . . the Tricorner Villages of Marapore, Ponypeii, and Lusitano . . .” She gulped. “Neighples. Princess, we’re in Neighples.”

The door creaked loudly. Ramblings happened outside—a chaos. Clambering in, the sounds of the ponies neared. Luna took a hold of Twilight’s hoof, running their way down a flight of stairs. They snaked their way out a dank corridor till the sun greeted them with a bright slap on the eye.

The wind was powerful. Things flew on the air, but the ponies seemed not to mind. Ponies. There were ponies. They were off in their business, doing things that they needed to. Stallions done their work, the mares attending to their foals, and the foals of those mares running around, playing, laughing, smiling, dodging themselves and the rest. They looked very, very happy.

The song of metal clashing against metal sounded across the city, to join with the sound of commonfolk. It was a sound unfamiliar to the princess’ ears; she had never remembered hearing such things. The keen swords and knives and daggers and bows with arrows that lined the stalls had proudly done a job well done: scaring her.

Some of the ponies’ eyes were on them, especially to Luna. They looked at her like an angel who fell from heaven. They said no word, though, never giving more than a long stare. Their hooves shuffled underneath them to get a better view.

It felt like the entire city watched them; she was unsure of the lot and their intentions. “Where do we go?” Twilight whispered to Luna.

“We go where anyone hears us not. It is not safe to be here.”

They hurried their move, but not by too much, for the world was looking at them with a great intensity.

Luna headed a direction that was a great field of grass, on the foot of the volcano. Even it blocked the view of clouds behind it, an impregnable fortress made of cooled magma from the planet itself. She wondered what it must’ve felt for ponies to live so near it, even with a magical protection.

What kind of dream is this? What kind of nightmare? Bringing us into a whole new world like this . . . But I’ve made my choice.

The density of the buildings thinned as they came closer to the outskirts. The line between the middle class and poor was as clear as ever—the houses being exquisite and large, far away from the main crowd. They were boastful and tall, showing of their owner’s wealth. There were some raised brows when they passed, but like most, they were left alone. She immediately locked on to a home that was larger than the rest, and she knew that this was the home of Sterling Silver, a mare of wonders and magic. Twilight looked back to the city to discover how tall this place was, truly above all, and how she was in the thick of the greatest time in history.

The gaping size of the Meditrotanean sea filled her sight, many boats in the water. Most, if not all, were merchant ships used for carrying cargo to distant places, other continents. She had learned the Roamans never really dabbled into the water, barely having any warships in their arsenal. The ponies here even didn’t have that many too, even being near the water. They saw no use.

Luna unfurled her wings, taking off into the horizon. “Come.” Twilight flapped her way up, up above the world.

From up here she sighted the Tricorner Villages: Marapore, Ponypeii, Lusitano. They had been nestled close to the volcano, nearer than what she imagined. And farther from them to the north-east lay the Ponytenio National Park, a barren wasteland. It felt worlds away, the distance great.

Luna touched down on the cool blades of green. Twilight was just right at her side.

“What did you want to talk about, princess?”

“Why we’re here.” Luna motioned to the landscape. “Out of all places, she picked here. Right here. I was hoping you, of all ponies, would know why we stand where we stand.”

“Did Flaura come from this city?” Twilight asked.

“As a matter of fact . . . yes. She is from here, Neighples, this very city.” The princess shot a hoof to it.

“Aha! That may be it, princess. There’s a correlation. But now I wonder why is that. Why would Death bring us here, out of all places?”

“Hmmm, yes, it is odd, why she wants us here. We are still in square one, I need point out.”

“I know, princess, and we may very well be for a long time. Maybe forever, actually. There’s just a lot to process about.”

“Yes, and I am certain there is a lot more going on in this. Death does things not for no reasons There’s always a reason for something happening.”

“I see.”

Luna attempted to ignite magic to results none. “It appears I can do not spells too, even the simplest ones.” Twilight tried it, and it didn’t work. Luna let her freely to try whatever she might do of it: no outcome.

“It seems I can’t do it either, princess. Do you think Death had something to do with it?”

“I think so. She doesn’t want us to leave this place, or perchance know of the ramifications as of now. She’s hiding something from us. As I stated: there’s a lot more going on in the background.”

“Princess, what if we die in here if this is a dream?”

“Then we’ll return to the real world. But since we cannot come back to the real world . . . I have no idea what will happen.”

“Is there any other way one can die in the dream realm and not come back to life?”

“There is no other way. However, if one tries to commit suicide in a lucid dream and chants those words . . . they shall die in real life.”

Twilight nodded. “Okay . . . I have to ask, what was that spell you tried to do before? I don’t think I know it yet.”

“It is a mere thing I do to keep check of the dream realm. Normally, I would be able to distinguish between what’s real and what’s not in these dreams.”

“That’s what I’m concerned about, princess. I noticed that it feels very life-like in here, like it’s not even a dream at all. Who’s to say that we’re in some elaborate scheme?”

“I am very well aware of thy concerns; it is a pressing matter. Furthermore, the ramifications will change because of our actions. We need to do three things: find a way out, a way to distinguishwhat this place is, and find Death. You and I shall go back to the city, and we need to act as fast as possible, for both of us are in the dark. We have no idea what’s happening, less so in what eventually will.”

“We also have to look for Light,” she reminded. “That’s the reason why I came.”

Above them were crows that cried out mockingly.

★★★★★★★★★

“Heya, Light!” Collin hung from above him, swinging around playfully, nibbling a cookie. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, I’m just reading a novel I picked up. I didn’t see you come in.”

“That’s because I didn’t! And what you’re doing sounds fun!” Collin let go of himself, landing on the floor with a loud smack. “Oh.”

“Oh, my, are you alright?” He held out a helping hoof for him. Collin shooed that away, though, getting back up as if nothing happened.

“Hai! My name is Collin fam!” He grinned.

“Okay . . . ?”

“Oh. Welp.” Collin scooted beside him. “So, how’s Flaura?”

“Well, you know, she’s in your room. I don’t know how long she has been in there, but she never came out to meal with my and my grandparents. She said she was busy with something. “

“Really? What did she say?”

“‘I am going to be in my room. I will be busy. No disturbances.’”

“Huh. She left me here a while ago too, saying she will be busy.”

Collin laughed. “I wonder what it is.”

“Whatever it may be, it seemed to be very important. She brought with her a map of Itaily.”

“Welp. Now it kinda makes sense. So, Light, I need to ask you something very important. And when I say important, it’s important important. No games. I need your complete honesty. Understand?”

“Um, yeah, okay. No games.”

“And you will not speak to anyone about this. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Great. How are you feeling about being here? What had you felt, Light, before being here?”

“What do you mean by ‘before being here?’ Is it with my life or the past few days?”

“The past few days.”

“I guess I kinda felt . . . troubled? I don’t know; it’s a lot of feelings. All pouring in and never leaving. It’s too hard to manage them all, even if it’s not at once, and most times it’s impossible to do that either way. It’s just . . . a big cesspool, I would call it.”

“Is happiness in this ‘cesspool?’”

“I . . . honesty don’t know. It’s too confusing to see if it’s even there.”

“Oh. Alright, then. That’s done.” He simpered. “Do you have a plan or route to leave?”

“We have thought of some things, yes. I showed Flaura a while ago.”

“How does it go?”

“We’ll simply walk to Canterlot, and I will catch a train back to Ponyville.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Yeah, it does. Maybe the walking part would be hard, but that’s the plan.”

“Yep! Oh, and speaking of Flaura, did you notice her mane. It looks so cute!”

“Hmmm. Yeah, I did notice. She kinda rubbed it all over my face the moment I woke up.”

“That’s interesting, though. Flaura did ask for her mane to be done right after she woke up. I wonder why she would do that.”

“Really? What do you think of it, then?”

“Frankly? I have no idea, Light. I have no idea . . .” Collin tugged on his wing suddenly. “Hey, why don’t we go home and eat something. I want a sandwich.”

“Hmmmm. You know, that sounds nice. Yeah, I think I’ll tag along.”

“Done with your meals, dears?” Athena plucked the pates from the table and gave a loving smile.

“Yes . . . grandma . . .” Collin slumped down, rubbing his belly. “Wow, am I full today . . .” He burped so loud that Flaura surely would’ve heard it from the other room. Light patted his head.

“You shouldn’t have eaten my leftovers, Collin.” he advised, but it was too late to say it.

“Welp. That didn’t work out, did it?” His grin was massive.

He could help not but smile. “It didn’t.”

“Heh. Well, I’ll be off to do some stuff. Baiii!” The colt zoomed back to his room, and furniture dropped, fell. Lightning’s mane pointed to the direction of the little, zany colt’s door.

Okay.

Light yawned. The somnolence was growing in him, he knew, and he also knew it would be some time before he would actually fall asleep. I’ll probably wake fourteen hours later again. I always do. But not tonight. I need to wake up early tomorrow.

Light closed the door behind him slowly. Flaura was adrift on the bed, dozing off. Light lay down unceremoniously beside her. The map was on her side, a little soggy. It’s wet.

He pushed that aside.

Lightning tucked himself under the thick sheets, sighing to himself. Today was a day, and tomorrow is going to be another. It would continue on until he died. Then the story’s end comes in. The end. The . . . end . . . of the story. My story.

Light thought of the plan that he thought of for many years. He’d need everypony to be gone for it to work, though, so he had to wait. Wait. Wait. Always had he waited.

Flaura rolled over, her mouth wide open and drooling, her mane a mess. That made him stop and sleep.