By The Gloom Of The Everfree

Chapters

The Process of Arriving
The Start of Things
Grave Matters
Confrontations and Ressurections

The Process of Arriving

Twilight Sparkle sat, lost in thought, stewing in anger.

Twilight Sparkle, disgraced student of the Scholar Queen’s School For Gifted Scientists. Twilight Sparkle, who had been so unfairly expelled for such a small thing as ignoring the rules about reanimation of dead tissue. Twilight Sparkle, who had been so close to actually breaking the rule when she was interrupted by the police force. Twilight Sparkle, who had narrowly avoided jail time for grave digging and disturbing the peace. THE Twilight Sparkle who had managed to catch the Scholar Queen’s attention by modifying one of the attending castle servants so that he was now part dragon and had done so WITH his permission and WITHOUT any tragic side effects, no matter what the gossip papers said.

This Twilight Sparkle, full of potential and scientific fervor, now found herself being quietly transferred off into the outskirts of the Scholar Queen’s holdings on a trundling train of tremendous treachery.

Had she not dedicated her life to knowledge, just as the Scholar Queen had asked? Had she not risked everything in pursuit of it, just as her parents had? Had she not thrown care and worry to the wind to do that which had been sought from her? And now, now that she had done more than any other, now that she had come so close to breaking that which so many viewed as an unstoppable force, now she was being thrown away, tossed into the far reaches in hopes that she would cause no more trouble, would draw no more praise, no more ire.

As these thoughts burned inside her she lost track of her surroundings until she was suddenly called back to her senses by the only other passenger. The train, which had been silent as the grave since their departure, suddenly found itself hosting a voice of worry. A voice that cared. The only such voice that the exiled lady had ever had in all her life.

“Are you okay, Twilight Ma’am?”

Twilight’s gaze shot up from the floor of the train and into the slitted eyes of the only company she had been allowed to keep in the wake of her sentencing. They looked at each other for a long moment, neither blinking, until Twilight found her voice.

“Yes Spigor. I am fine. Merely plotting.”

Spigor turned away from her gaze, mumbling something under his breath, quiet enough that the noises of the train drowned it out before Twilight could hear it with any kind of accuracy, though she could guess it was some well meaning plea. Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, her leather boots creaking from the sudden stress of the movement. She narrowed her gaze onto the pattern of scales on the cheek of her assistant, waiting for his eyes to turn back in her direction. Spigor seemed to be resisting doing so, but eventually his resolve broke and he turned to face her once again. Once again, their eyes locked.

“What did you say?” Twilight had meant to say the words with a tone of curiosity, yet it instead held the weight and implication of a poorly veiled threat. Her anger problem was coming to a head again, she knew. She could feel her insides unraveling as they looked to vent some energy. A feeling it was far too early in the morning to deal with.

Spigor recoiled for a moment, though his eyes remained gazing into hers, fear blooming like a weed within him. His eyes began to twitch, both sets of his eye lids blinking randomly as his tongue started to clatter over his words. “I- I- I- I d- d- didn’t say anything!” He shouted, lying plain as day.

Twilight was standing now, though she didn’t know when she had started to. His gaze had followed her as she stood, her slight, frail figure managing to cut a fearsome form in the dark haze of the train car. Twilight felt her hand moving without her intent and looked to it, seeing it rear backwards as the fingers readied themselves to slap. Realizing the extent to which this little episode had gone, Twilight knew she needed to end it. With a gruff grunt, Twilight threw herself into the wall of the train car. The arm immediately collapsed limply to her side from the collision. After a moment, Twilight took the opportunity to slide down onto the floor. “Scholar Queen excise my mind, I’m losing it.” She mumbled.

“A- A- Are you okay Twilight?” Spigor asked, his voice full of worry for her, full of concern for the one who had almost hit him. It made the guilt in Twilight's gut roar ever louder. “Do you need me to brew your suppression draught? You usually don’t need it until much later in the day but you did a lot of self-augmentation last night and you’ve been stressed all morning and that definitely looked like the spasm of the muscles you said I should look out for.” Spigor rambled off as Twilight slouched against the cold metal.

“That’d be good Spigor. If you’d be so kind.” It was almost a mumble, but Spigor had heard it. His dragon senses proving their worth for the upteenth time. As he bolted off into the kitchen car to work his trade, Twilight relaxed her muscles. It was a larger task then it ought to have been, but she managed it eventually and let herself admire the chill of the metal on her burning face.

“I almost hit him.” Twilight said to herself, glancing to the now empty seat across from her. “The one good thing I have left and I almost struck him. I ruined his life and drug him along with me into exile and I almost hit him and he only worries for me.” She let herself slide from a sitting position into laying on the metal floor of the train car. “Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps I should cut down on the schemeing and the plotting and the self-augmentation and the dangerous chemistry experiments and the paranatural forays.” She took a deep breath and continued. “And the illegal research projects and the electrical applications to my nervous systems and the unsanitary grave digging and the occult biological work and the dearth of other mortally inconvenient work I continually press myself into.” She gazed up at the ceiling and tested the strength of her arm, feeling the refreshing strength of the muscles she’d installed within it the previous night. “Perhaps.”

She remained silent on the floor until the clatter of a spoon in a violently shaking bowl focused her attention on her returning assistant. The bowl would’ve been clattering even without the shuddering of the train car, nervous as Spigor was when handling her draughts, but the traincar added a new level of noise. Spigor’s slim tail swept back and forth across the steel floor as he approached, creating an off putting rustling noise that combined with the other clamor to fully pull Twilight from her reminiscing. Twilight pressed her good hand firmly onto the floor and pushed herself up onto her feet once more. Tucking her disobedient arm under her armpit, she gratefully took the wooden bowl in hand.

Sitting down, Twilight removed the spoon from the bowl and gazed into the swirling purple tar-like substance that roiled of its own accord within the dish. She set the spoon to the side, where Spigor quickly collected it, and tilted the bowl to her lips. She drank it as quickly as she could manage, shuddering in discomfort as she handed the, now empty, bowl back to Spigor. If the taste of the medicine was not bad enough, the texture of it was worse by tenfold.

“Thank you.” Twilight said, the words holding an apology that she hoped her assistant could pick up on as she wouldn’t have the courage to say what she truly meant. He nodded in return as he stowed the somehow completely clean bowl into a box by his feet, giving no evidence of his understanding either way, and the two settled into a familiar, comfortable silence for the rest of their train ride.

It was about an hour later that the train began to slow and the voice of the conductor, robotic and distant, rolled emptily through the car, causing the duo to begin to stir in their seats. “Now arriving at: Ponyville. End of the Line. All remaining passengers please begin gathering your belongings. All belongings left on the train will be used as test objects at the Scholar Queen’s School for Gifted Scientists. No matter what they are. If you later remember something you left on the train, do not attempt to reclaim it. We thank all our passengers in advance for any generous donations, intentional or otherwise, to the work of her highness and assure you that it will be used for the greater good.”

Twilight stood and picked up her briefcase. It was full of all her specialized equipment and she had wanted to personally see to its travel. Not that she doubted Spigor’s ability to see to it, of course, it was simply that she felt… safer… when she had it close at hand. Spigor, for his part, gathered up a pile of three boxes in his arms, filled mostly with amenities and ingredients for Twilight’s draughts, and waited for her to lead the way, which she did shortly thereafter.

As she exited the train it let out a cheery chime and thanked her for her patronage and she and Spigor set down their luggage. After the doors closed behind her, Twilight turned around to look at the departing train once more, it’s sleek black metal exterior beginning to rumble to life once again. She watched as it rolled off, and watched even longer until it had fully vanished into the fog,

Sighing, Twilight turned to see to the matter of finding her lodgings but was shocked out of that action as she was instead met with a face that seemed heavy with what could only be described as angry curiosity. Twilight took a step back in surprise and almost tumbled onto the tracks, but was steadied as Spigor’s tail whipped up to stop her stumble. Twilight gave a quick, grateful, nod to her savior before turning her attention back to the sudden arrival. The figure took a step back as if to get a better look at her and Twilight took the opportunity to return the act.

The most striking feature of her sudden company was her hair. It looked not unlike that of some of the gauche monstrosities that Twilight had seen behind glass back at the school. This one, however, was colored like in the manner of some kind of muted rainbow and seemed to be barely controlled by a thick band. Its length was about two thirds of its owner’s height and had somehow been restrained into the shape of a ponytail, though it had little in common with traditional ponytails at all. If it bore any resemblance to a creature’s tail it was closer to some carnivorous monster than to a small horse.

Dragging her attention away from the follicle-based disaster, Twilight turned her attention to the rest of the woman before her. There was little else of great interest among the figure’s other features save for two of note. First, the rather sleek and cutting suit she wore that seemed almost too high class given the hair and generally stance of the one who wore it, not to mention the rather unimpressive surroundings. Second was the badge that was pinned onto her lapel. It was composed of an image of the Scholar Queen’s profile silhouetted on a light yellow background. Encircling it were a cascade of streaming willow branches and a short motif, distinguishing the wearer of the badge as the leader of the local law enforcement. “Guardian of the Queen’s Holding.” Then, below it read “Ponyville”. This, Twilight supposed, explained the presence of the suit.

As they both finished up their examinations, the figure spoke. Her voice seemed bored as she repeated a phrase she seemed to have practiced many times. “At the behest of her highness, The Scholar Queen Celestia, I, Rainbow Dash, welcome you to Ponyville.” However, after managing to get this far, the aforenamed Rainbow Dash seemed to lose interest in the formality of it entirely and began to freeform the rest of it. “I will be giving you a quick tour, whether you like it or not, to get you used to the area. Don’t go near the Everfree or you’ll die a gruesome death. Questions will be answered at the end, are you ready?”

“Uhm,” Twilight glanced to Spigor, who shrugged, and then back to Rainbow Dash. “Yes?”

“Then let’s get a move on.”

Taking their belongings in hand, the pair followed Rainbow Dash into Ponyville proper.

The Start of Things

The heavy fog of the Ponyville morning was beginning to split, parting for the determined figure of the law enforcement officer who strode easily along the road from the train station and into the town proper. Trailing behind her, Twilight and Spigor were doing their best to keep up as they were lead with single minded determination down a simple dirt path. Unfortunately for them, the length of Rainbow Dash’s stride forced them to nearly jog just to keep pace with her casual walking speed. It took them a while to fall into a rhythm, especially for Spigor who was still carrying the boxes from the train, but before too long they were at least managing to not fall any further behind.

Twilight had just managed to catch enough breath to ask where they were going when Rainbow preemptively cut her off by answering the question she had yet to vocalize, apparently through sheer coincidence. “So we’re gonna stop by the place you’ll be staying so you can drop off your stuff. It’s cozy, or, was when I was last in there a couple years ago anyway, don’t think there’s been any infestations but you never know with trees,” explained Rainbow Dash, apparently with experience in the matter. “Anyway, after that we’ll go meet with the mayor, then if we have time I’ll introduce you to the local health care professional. That sound good? Don’t answer, try and keep pace.” Rainbow Dash paused a moment to look at the sun as it slid subtly out from behind the heavy cloud cover that was beginning to look more and more like a permanent feature of the town. As Twilight worked to catch up during this moment of stillness she managed to gauge the time as just shy of noon.

Doing as they were told the duo kept their words to themselves as they worked to stay level with their guide, feeling like they were putting in twice the effort just to keep up with their guide who strode easily along, hands in her pockets, humming a strange rough song as she walked. They had just managed to halve the distance that Rainbow had on them when something caught Twilight’s attention and made her slow, then stop, to fully appreciate what had caught her eye, forcing Spigor to stop by her side, a worried expression growing on his face as he too spotted what had caught her attention.

It was a cemetery. It was a very large, clearly labelled, cemetery. On top of that, it had no apparent security, not so much as a gas lamp at the entrance to illuminate trespassers. Twilight did her best to hide the burning feeling of excitement that surged through her head, igniting the fuses of all her ideas. Parts! Pieces! A little hodunk town with such an incredible selection of corpses! If even half the graves had some half-decent limbs she could probably make a battalion! An army! It certainly held all that she could possibly need to finish the experimental work she had started back in Canterlot. Feeling for the first time that there was a silver lining to this whole situation, Twilight was unable to move her gaze away.

Twilight, with her eyes caught on the gravestones, was too preoccupied to pay any attention to her surroundings. She heard neither Spigor's hushed attempts to warn her nor the footsteps of the approaching figure behind her until it was too late. The voice was like lightning to Twilight's mind, intruding suddenly on her thoughts and almost scaring her out of her skin. “Whatcha looking at?” Rainbow Dash asked, voice heavy with the implication that she already knew the answer to the question and, worse still, knew the reason for the answer. Desperate for some escape from the situation she now found herself in, Twilight focused on the graveyard, looking for something to be looking at besides the obvious, as Spike’s own gaze shifted worriedly between Twilight and Rainbow.

At last, she found her distraction. Pointing to the only notable thing behind the wrought iron gate, Twilight turned her gaze aside to look at Rainbow Dash. “That girl, isn’t she a little young to be in a graveyard by herself?” She asked, genuinely curious. She’d of course been admiring the potential of the place but now she was truly wondering about the child. Even back in Canterlot it was rare to see a guest in the graveyard, let alone a someone as young as the individual she had pointed out.

The truth, though not the whole truth, in her question apparently set her free as Rainbow’s expression changed from accusatory to somber. Clearly, she had some emotions of her own tied up in the answer. “That’s Applebloom.” Rainbow answered, barely sparing a glance to the child before answering. “Her older sister was buried a couple days ago, she’s been visiting the place every day since the funeral.

“Oh.” Twilight said, feeling suddenly guilty about her plans in the light of such tragedy. She spared another glance for the girl, but was interrupted before she could put too much thought into it.

“Come on, we’ve got places to be, let’s get a move on.” Rainbow said suddenly, her tone unreadable as she set a quick pace once again.

“Yes. Right.” Twilight shook her head a few times to get her thoughts straight then followed quickly after.

Their new home was hard to miss, the tree a landmark all its own among the depressed gray stone of the other buildings they’d seen on the way over. Twilight had heard of such trees before, it had started as a pet project of a particularly gifted botanist from a long time back and every now and then some other advanced student of the art would make a new one, it was almost an official milestone in their training. Silently, Twilight pondered over the age of this particular example, stoic as it seemed against the fog that was beginning to ebb as the day wore on, to say nothing of it's rigidness against the more permanent surroundings. It had a look of experience to it that Twilight didn't think she would ever assign to a tree.

The duo dropped off their belongings with little aplomb, Rainbow eager to keep a quick pace and go through the tour as quickly as possible. Twilight decided to keep her briefcase on hand, despite knowing deep down that it would likely be safe in the library while she was out, especially given the sizable collection of locking mechanisms that had been installed on the door by some previous tenant. Spigor, meanwhile, was more than happy to be rid of the boxes he’d been carrying yet, despite Rainbow’s insistence on urgency, he went a step further and took the time to set up his and Twilight’s beds in two of the separate rooms that were connected by the main hallway. When he informed Rainbow Dash that he was doing this she seemed unhappy about it but didn’t voice any outright objections to the act.

While Spigor did his work, Twilight took the opportunity to look around the sparse building, one might almost go as far as to call it ransacked were it not clear that there had been nothing of value within the wooden walls for a long long time. It had been a library, formerly, Twilight could tell. Despite being fully outfitted for the job, however, it hadn’t been used for that purpose in at least a generation if not two. She was grateful for the space for her own books but found herself wishing that there were more books there to begin with, if only to expand her own reading pool.

Belongings dropped off and bedding sorted they emerged back out into the, now fog-less, late afternoon town. “About time.” Rainbow Dash greeted them, standing from her casual lean she had taken while she waited. She gave Twilight’s briefcase a raised eyebrow when she returned with it still in hand, then shrugged. Once more, they set off.

It became obvious to Twilight scarce few moments later what their next destination would be and, realizing how quickly it was approaching and, having recovered slightly from the jog they had started at the train station, found herself able at last to voice questions of her own. “So, what’s the mayor like?”

“Didn’t I say I’d answer all questions at the end?” Rainbow asked in return, her pace quickening slightly so as to force Twilight to keep up to continue the conversation.

“Well yes.” Admitted Twilight, stepping faster so as not to fall out of hearing range. “But I feel like this is a rather time sensitive question. I’d like to know what to expect before we actually meet her.”

“Fair enough.” Acquiesced Rainbow Dash, though she kept up her quick pace. “Well she’s somewhat new to the job. Our old mayor was getting on in age and you don’t want to stick around here once you start getting too many decades on your shoulders. Unless you're Granny Smith anyway.” Before Twilight could ask who Granny Smith was, Rainbow had moved on. “She likes to make clothes and tailor and all that stuff. She’s also high class, or used to be, just like you. You two should get along swell.”

Twilight was running out of breath again from the speed that Rainbow had set and found herself unable to speak the cutting remark she’d thought up in response to the poorly veiled jab. Instead she set it aside for later and focused on the structure that now towered imposingly directly ahead, the distance having all but vanished during the supremely short conversation.

Without a pause or prelude Rainbow Dash knocked twice on the door and, after a moment’s breath, received a “Come in!” from a restrained, gracious voice on the other side of the threshold. Sparing no words, only a simple shrug to Twilight and Spigor, she pushed her way in.

As the doors swung open they revealed a stunning lady who was reclining slightly in a reading chair, a well-made silken set of pajamas resting loosely across her form. All were dumbstruck by the sight, even Rainbow Dash, and silence reigned until the figure realized her visitors had arrived. Or, rather more accurately, deigned to interact with the vistors that she’d known had been there for a minute at least. Looking back on it, Twilight was grateful for the time to get her breath back, despite the fact that she’d been kept waiting.

“Oh Rainbow Dash, you’re wearing your suit!” Said the beauty as she stood from her seat, resting her book, still open, upside down on the small table to the side of the chair. “Does it fit alright? You haven’t put it on since I fixed the shoulders.”

“It fits fine.” Rainbow said with a huff, shaken from the spell, and nodded back towards Twilight and Spigor a couple steps behind her. “Just wanted to introduce you to Twilight, she’s the one I said was showing up. She’s got her assistant with her, think the notes said Speegor or something I dunno, part dragon.” Rainbow shook her head dismissively as if ‘part dragon’ were simply a common quirk and then turned back to introduce those she’d had on her heels all day. “Twilight Sparkle, this is-”

“Rarity Belle!” Spigor interrupted as he quickly closed the distance, Twilight following with a long-suffering sigh as Rainbow looked on in surprise. Rarity, for her part, looked to have frozen at the very prospect of being recognized. Her self-assured confidence having faded into growing worry, a look on her face like she’d seen a ghost. Luckily for Rarity, however, Spigor was too wrapped up in his star stricken enthusiasm to notice it. “I’m a huge fan of your work! I own all your guides on stitching, they’ve been crazy helpful with my work!”

Rarity, to her credit, managed to shake the dread from her face before answering. “Well it is always nice to meet a fan! I’m happy to hear that even now, long past my heyday, I’m helping all sorts to do what they love.”

Spigor, who seemed to only be engaging with the conversation enough so as to know when he could talk again, looked to Rarity with eyes that almost sparkled. “Do you think you could take a look at my work sometime? Not a lot of people know enough about stitching to give me feedback.”

“Of course darling! I would be pleased as punch to see whatever you’re working on, anytime you- Agh!” Rarity recoiled as Spigor pulled one of the Twilight’s loose sleeves up to her shoulder, revealing the vaguely organized mess of thread that was holding the different stretches of her skin together to heal.

“Twilight recently did some augmentation work on this arm, so it’s still pretty patchwork but it should heal up nice.” Spike said, brimming with a rare confidence. “I had to sort of create my own technique since I couldn’t find anything for surgical stitches on a scale like this, and that’s when I found your books! They were the perfect jumping off point!”

“Ah, I see.” Rarity said, her voice heavy with hesitation. Looking around for some help with this situation, she caught sight of Rainbow Dash, her gruff facade beginning to crack as she stifled a smile at the humor of Rarity's unfortunate situation. Rarity in turn leveled a glare in her direction before Spigor got her attention again.

“So what do you think?”

“Ah well it’s, uhm,” Rarity got a glimpse of Twilight’s judging glare from the corner of her eye and decided to actually look at the stitches. She examined them as best she could but ultimately came away without very much insight. “Well, I’ll admit that this a bit beyond my field of expertise, but the principles seem sound.” Rarity said, suppressing her desire to be doing literally anything else. “I never did much work with skin, well any work with skin really. I can’t really give you any kind of in-depth advice on this I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Spigor said with a disappointed tone. He looked at the stitches himself before pulling Twilight’s sleeve back into place.

“I would be happy to talk about hair though! Or style it!” Rarity said, somewhat desperate to salvage the moment and her first interaction with the new members of the town, though knowing deep down that it was a hopeless endeavor. “How about you Miss Twilight? It looks the train ride didn’t help you a great deal in that department.”

“I’m fine thanks.” Twilight answered, taking a few steps away as she straightened out her sleeve. “Oh, and-” Twilight turned to look at Rarity with the coldest gaze that Rarity had received in a long while. “Don’t put your books down like that. It ruins the spine.”

Rarity looked back to the book that rested on the table, still open, and then back to Twilight, struck silent by the seriousness of what seemed to be such a petty thing. This silence reigned for a handful of tense moments before Rainbow Dash saw fit to break it. “Well we’ve got other places to go check out, see you later Rarity,” she said, beginning to lead Spigor and Twilight out of the building.

“Yes, of course, of course. Farewell darlings!” Rarity waved goodbye, but among the departing group only Rainbow saw fit to return it and even then it was only in her usual half-hearted dismissive way.

Rarity lingered there in the opening silence, staring at the door that was shut closed once again. After a moment she took a few hesitant steps back to her reading chair and, after a moment of thought, picked up the book she had been reading and shut it properly.

After the group fully exited the building Twilight and Spigor waited for Rainbow Dash to lead the way again, or to talk about what had just happened, or to say anything at all. Instead, she looked to both of them, her gaze lingering on Spigor’s hurt expression that he was trying to hide, and then stared off towards the horizon where a waxing gibbous moon was beginning to rise slightly earlier than it probably ought to have. It seemed they were not the only ones watching it as, off in the Everfree, a set of wolves' howls echoed through the trees.

“You know what?" Rainbow said suddenly, "Let’s finish this tour tomorrow. It’s getting late and you two just got off a long train ride. I’m sure neither of you are really in the mood for this.” Catching both of her tourists off guard with the sudden shift away from some constant schedule that only she seemed to know about or even want to keep ahead of.

Twilight made to interrupt and say that she was more than ready to continue but was stopped as she paused to yawn, causing her to rethink her declaration. She certainly wanted to see the rest of the town, if only so she might know the layout of it a little better, but she had been up all the previous night working on her arm, after all. Perhaps a good night’s rest would be nice, it might even help her remember all the different landmarks when they continued the tour the next day.

With confused acceptance and cheap farewells both parties said goodbye to each other. Twilight and Spigor watched in silence as the mess of muted rainbow hair swished its way off into the town proper once again, The duo stayed there a moment longer before they too set off, heading now towards the wooden tree they called home. It had been a long day, hadn’t it? A nice night of sleep would do wonders for the both of them, Twilight was sure.

She lingered in the main room, setting up the selection of books she’d brought along from home, and then grabbed one and took it to her bed with her. A few lazy hours of reading later, the moon now hanging high in the sky, she slid a nondescript bookmark between the pages she'd been reading and rested it to the side of her small bed.

Hours passed. Hours slunk by with treacherous sloth. Each minute felt like a day. Twilight lay in bed, staring daggers at the ceiling above her, her thoughts turning over and over in her mind. She needed sleep, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to find it. She’d experienced something similar to this back when she was still a student. It usually occurred after a couple of her busier days where, instead of the fatigue taking her into the world of her dreams, she would be far too anxious about what had happened during the day to fall asleep. She usually coped with this by working on one of her projects, but they’d all been taken by the police and she hadn’t been allowed to bring any with her.

And besides, that was only part of what was keeping her awake. The other part was that whenever she closed her eyes she saw the cemetery. The field of tombstones almost burnt into her mind’s eye, the abandoned flowers waving in the wind like a field of wheat that was ready for the harvest, the wrought iron fencing almost welcoming with its familiarity. It was only a few blocks away and it was dark out, the waxing moon was obstructed by the impenetrable cloud cover, it would not be hard to do some late night collecting.

She felt that the universe was tempting her into a trap but, after another hour without sleep, she found herself getting out of bed more than ready to spring it. After she dressed she exited the room thinking about what supplies she would need. What she hadn’t expected was to see Spigor, apparently fully aware of what she intended, sitting on a box at the end of the hall, a shovel in each of his hands. He sighed as he saw her leave her room. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to rethink this.” Spigor said in a defeated tone.

Twilight smiled widely, perhaps a bit too wide, and grabbed one of the shovels. “Nope.”

Author's Note

Hey, thanks for the overwhelming support of the first chapter. I think that's the highest ratio of comments to likes I've seen in a while. Not to mention, of course, that I actually received the first piece of fan art I've ever had for one of my stories.

This cool piece of work comes from AnarchyHamster on deviant art. Some of the art there is NSFW, btw, You've been warned.

A big thanks for that. It's a bit classy for the current duds they're wearing in the story at the moment but I like the general gothic themes not to mention I'm super happy to receive any fan art at all.

Thanks again!

Grave Matters

Twilight peeked out into the Ponyville night, cautiously at first before gaining the courage to lean fully out of the doorway to get a clear view of the surroundings outside the house. Her gaze moved carefully over the heavy fog that seemed to have returned with a vengeance after its defeat at the hands of the midday sun. Her eyes combed the calm rolling waves of the heavy cloud-like presence for any sign of movement that was outside the normal pattern , any disturbance that might signal something hiding beneath it. After she determined it to be clear she ducked back into the tree for a moment before she returned with a lantern and stepped down the porchway, putting her knee deep in the fog.

She made quick progress to the nearest intersection and cast a careful eye once again and, once again, she found nothing to worry her. Signalling back to the house she watched carefully as Spigor exited out into the night, his arms full with a large single wooden box upon which a set of shovels and picks rested. He set the load down with barely a noise in order to lock the door behind himself, then joined her at the intersection with the box once again in hand.

“I wish you’d let me check for threats when we do this stuff Twilight, the servant’s guild would string me up if anything happened to you.” Spigor said in a low voice as the pair set off towards the cemetery.

“The servant’s guild doesn’t own you anymore so they’d have to fight their way through my undoubtedly resurrected corpse first.” Twilight said dismissively as she clenched and relaxed her free hand over and over again. “Besides, Raven Inkwell says that the most important thing for an up and coming scientist is to know that they, personally, are the most frightening thing on the streets in the dead of night.”

“Being the most frightening thing doesn’t seem that great.” Spigor said with a kind of familiarity, receiving a non committal mumble in return. In an effort to beat back the approaching silence Spigor changed the subject. “You know,” he said, pausing for a moment to try and get a better grip on the box he carried, “I hear some girls read etiquette books instead of Mad Scientists Monthly.” He smiled in joviality to indicate he was simply teasing.

Twilight, not catching his tone and expression, simply stared into the middle distance for a moment. “Then they’re wasting their time aren’t they?”

Realizing he’d been misunderstood but not willing to tell Twilight that she’d missed his point Spigor gave up on continuing their dialogue and let the empty noise of gentle breeze a rustiling trees fill his ears. This silence remained until they came to the gate for the cemetary. The duo looked around briefly, Spigor keeping his ears attentive for foreign noises, then they began their approach. At the sight of a sign near the entrance Spigor tried once again to start a conversation.

“What’s this say Twilight? I can’t recognize the language.” Spigor whispered, catching Twilight’s attention and pointing to the sign with a foot before he continued into the cemetery. Twilight gave one more final look around before she approached the wooden sign and then crouched in front of it to get closer to the text. She suspected it would be some no tresspassing sign or other popular signage though the way it was written certainly stood out.

“It’s… cursive I think.” Which, to be fair to Spigor, was strange to find on a sign. She couldn’t imagine the patience it would’ve taken to clearly and accurately write anything in cursive on a coarse wood surface.

“Cursive huh? Who speaks that?”

Twilight spared a look to Spigor to make sure a joke wasn’t being made at her expense. Seeing genuine curiosity on her assistant’s face, she tamped down on the anger that had been all too quick to surge. Mumbling under her breath Twilight focused on the sign again. “Can read my chicken scratch notes like a code breaker but cursive loses him.”

“What was that?” Spigor said, setting the box down inside the gate under the boughs of a stunted weeping willow, hiding it from any potential passerbys, and then wandering back in her direction.

“It’s a style of writing, not a language.” Twilight clarified, opting not to repeat her pervious statement. Squinting to read the faded writing in the dim light and thickening fog, she brought her lamp up to the words and began to piece it together.

“Welcome to the Ponyville Cemetery. If you are a visitor we would like to ask you to be as respectful as you can of other visitors. If you are a graverobber-” Twilight read aloud, pausing at the fact that the welcome sign had apparently been prepared with law breakers in mind. Twilight gave a glance to Spigor, who shrugged. She continued. “If you are a graverobber than I ask that you keep your looting to a minimum. I am sure you are more than capable of taking whatever you want and if you choose to do so I would be unable to seek revenge. Secondly, if you could keep all illicit digging activities out of the animal graveyard that would nice of you, thanks.” Twilight had leaned in, her forehead almost resting against the sign, in order to read the print as it got smaller and smaller to fit on the wood provided.

Standing once again, Twilight threw a confused glance to Spigor, who returned it with another shrug. “What kind of cemetery asks that graverobbers only rob certain graves?”

“One that hopes there’s some good in law breakers maybe?” Spigor offered, unsure of an answer himself.

“Mmm.” Was all Twilight offered in response as her gaze scanned the surrounding fog once again. She didn’t see anyone there, and the sign had seemed rather aged so it clearly hadn’t been placed in anticipation for their visit. “I think it’s best if we avoid looting the animal graveyard tonight anyway. I’m not sure what kind of night life this town has and we should just get out of here as soon as we can.”

This statement was one that Spigor accurately interpreted as ‘I think we should do like the nice sign asked, it seemed like a reasonable request.’ but decided not to say anything about it.

Twilight took a pry bar from the inside of her coat and slide it beneath the first of four nails on the box. Spigor took his own pry bar from a similar position and, working together, they managed to silently open the box, Spigor collecting the nails in his coat for when they would reseal it at the end of their work.

Inside was a collection of small things, mundane and scientific, that Twilight had set aside for just such an excursion. Reaching in, the duo pulled a personalized set of heavy rubber gloves out. Spigor’s were much larger and heavier, for which he was grateful. Dragons had no inherent immunity to some of the worse complications that might be brought on by gravedigging but, on top of that, his immune system had been compromised when Twilight had turned him into one, making the gloves almost a necessity to prevent any negative side effects. As were the boots that came next.

Suited up in protective equipment, they began their work. They found the most recent grave, easily visible by the patch of grass darker than the rest around it, the headstone still pristine against the elements. Then, moving the box next to the foot of the grave plot, they began the more traditional grave digging work.

It went quickly, they’d had practice after all, and as they work they kept talking to a minimum. Not only to avoid drawing attention to themselves but also to save their breath. Spigor’s muscles burned with a dull pain after a few mere shovel fulls, the sprint that Rainbow Dash had led them on through the town having been a work out and a half. He opted not to say anything about it though, knowing Twilight must’ve been feeling it even more painfully.

In the silence that was only filled by shovels unfilling a grave, Spigor’s mind began to wander. Specifically, it wandered to the subject of Twilight. She was a good person, even if she didn’t seem too keen on the idea. She’d never struck him, though she’d gotten close a few times. Though that was still a large step up from some others he’d worked for.

He remembered how they’d met. He’d been cleaning her room in the student’s quarters when she’d stopped him and asked him about if she could twist his genetics, and he’d agreed as a servant was supposed to, but then she’d asked him what he wanted his genes twisted into. She’d said she wanted to work with phoenixes potentially, to try and find immortality, or perhaps fae to try and extend life, or to tap into the primal magic of the world. He’d asked, in a moment of brief courage, if a dragon would be okay.

She’d ‘mmm’d' noncommittally and then left him to his work. It wasn’t until later, when she’d cleared the experiment with the school and the servant’s guild, that he’d found out she’d listened to him. It wasn’t, in fact, until after the experiment had been done and he looked down and seen the new patches of purple scales on his hands. She’d seemed uninterested in his fervent thanks and he wondered if she’d done it out of kindness or if she’d found some better reason to do dragon in the first place.

It wasn’t until she was found guilty of all her crimes, not until they’d found out that, as he was now almost impossible to punish by conventional means due to his thick scales, that he’d be turned into a biology project for the school, only then, when she’d promptly purchased his terms from the servant’s guild with what was left of her life savings, that he knew without a doubt that she was a good person. She just had… a problem showing it sometimes.

At the end of his reminiscing Spigor found himself neck deep in the hole, which meant that, assuming the six foot deep rule applied here, he would soon be hearing a-

Thrunk

Spigor’s half-hearted drive with the shovel bounced off the heavy coffin wood and with a sigh and a stretch he climbed out of the hole to grab the crowbar and smaller shovel and the body bag. Meanwhile, Twilight continued to work the dirt, removing patches that she could lift without risking damage to the coffin and, consequently, the corpse within it.

Without a word and, working perfectly in sync, they switched positions. As Spigor moved the heavy dirt off the coffin lid, Twilight set to work on her miniature pulley system, anchoring the main pillar of it into the dirt and then pouring a strange glowing liquid around it’s base, firming up the dirt until it was almost like stone. Silently, she ran the rope through the pulleys as Spigor worked the crowbar into the crevice where the lid rested.

With a pop, the lid came undone and Spigor looked down at the stout figure that had been called Applejack during life, but was now a corpse barely different from the ones around it. Almost blindly, Spigor reached up and grabbed the rope that was being lowered to him and he tied it tightly under the arms of the cadaver.

Climbing back out, Spigor took one end of the wheel while Twilight took the other and, working in tandem, they raised the limp form from its resting place. As it hung in the air Twilight let go of her end of the wheel while Spigor braced himself against his to prevent their work from becoming undone. She grabbed it by the ankles and swung it out over the dirt, signalling Spigor to let the wheel wind itself out slowly. He did so until the burden rested easily on the grass of the cemetery.

Twilight undid the knot with a tug and began to wind the rope back into a coil. Spigor, meanwhile, closed the coffin and began to fill the grave. Until, eventually, the grave was filled once again with its dirt. Twilight retrieved two more vials from the box and handed one to Spigor while she took the other to the anchored pulley system. Her’s was straightforward, simply undoing the work of her previous concoction. Spigor’s, meanwhile, was slightly more impressive.

Uncorking it carefully he let a few drops free and onto the recently moved dirt below him. Almost immediately, the grass grew in. Making the grave look almost exactly like it had before they’d started their work.

With a nod to each other, Spigor filled the body bag with their recently ‘acquired’ body and Twilight repacked the box. Spigor placed the nails back into place and then, using his thumb, pushed them back into the wood. After a brief moment to collect themselves, they began their trip home. There was still work to be done. But that would be all to Twilight. Spigor, with his mind turning in twists of anxiety and doubt, hoped they would have a couple days before the people with pitchforks showed up. He understood that was very ‘chic’ nowadays.

Confrontations and Ressurections

The peaceful, rhythmic movements of sewing thread eased Twilight’s usually manic senses into a relative calm as she carefully stitched her way through the flesh of the corpse that she and Spigor had so recently robbed from what had been intended to be an eternal rest. The calming of said mania was quite a feat, given how much caffeine she was currently ingesting in order to put off the fact that she hadn’t slept at all the previous night. Twilight was not one for dreams, or sleep, they seemed to her a waste of time, especially when she could be using that time for the much more exciting purpose of reanimation of the dead. She took another swig from her coffee cup, all but inhaling the sludgy black drink that Spigor made when attempting to mix coffee with her suppression draught. The last thing she needed now was her arm to start twitching with a mind of its own.

Situations being what they were, the pair had only robbed the single corpse from its gentle repose, as such her stitching now was less an effort to piece together various parts and pieces as she had grown used to doing back in Canterlot and, instead, was more a work of… repairing what she had. The cadaver had kept amazingly below the earth of the Ponyville Cemetery, to Twilight’s astonishment. It looked as if it had just died a few hours ago instead of a handful of days. Despite the lack of decay however, it was clear that life had not been kind to this “Applejack”. Her skin was decorated with scars, some old enough to have gone white with age, but others were recent, and deep, and that was to say nothing of the fatal wounds that had put her into her grave. Claw marks, Twilight knew. Wolf-like. Some monster of the Everfree no doubt.

Twilight tried not to think of the Everfree. Though with her proximity to it and the growing feeling that this was to be her abode for the foreseeable future, she knew she would have to face it eventually. It was a product of some mad scientist in ages long past. Not a proper mad scientist like Twilight Sparkle, but a MAD scientist, the kind that would destroy the world to see what it was made of. The kind of insane power hungry maniac that would start by working on a new kind of weed and end by creating an entire forest that spread like a weed. The kind of person whose side projects made Twilight’s main course of study look like a fun afternoon hobby. The kind of person Twilight thought she might turn into some day, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Nowadays, with the forest contained by the Scholar Queen’s efforts, it had become a dumping point for failed experiments from the Scholar Queen’s School for Gifted Scientists. Not that Twilight knew anything about failed experiments, she’d had minor set backs before of course, but miscalculations were not the kind of thing that got dumped in the Everfree. You only tossed something in the Everfree if it was too shameful to face, too dangerous for society, or too powerful to control; or, more often than not, all of the above.

As a cramp began to build in Twilight’s hand she was shaken from her thoughts and glanced across the work table to the empty seat opposite her own where more work had been left half finished. Spigor had gone to get some food in the early dawning of the morning, or what he’d said was morning as the heavy cloud cover made it closer to a suggestion than a reality. With so many hours invested into the work, Twilight now found herself needing to pause as well, to collect herself, to invest her mind in something, lest she continue thinking about these distractions of the Everfree.

She could only stand peace in small moments, and now found herself with the familiar itch to tinker and fix and build again. Rote stitching was all well and good, but she needed to be engaged, to figure something out. Namely, the rest of the electronic systems that she’d been forced to leave half done as Spigor had convinced her that perhaps it would be a good idea to make sure the corpse were prepared to receive life before finishing the mechanism with which to deliver that gift.

Standing from the table, Twilight Sparkle stood to reexamine the lengths of cord that ran from the metal base below the cadaver and wound their way up through the building. Most of it was in place, she just needed to do some proper tests and fiddle with the flow of power to make sure it could channel a bolt of lightning how she needed it to. While at the top of her new tree house she decided to connect the cord to the impressive lightning rod she had installed, admiring the fortune of living in a tree building that hid the heavy metal device from the world around them. Sure, it was a minor fire hazard too, but there were some risks you had to take, and Twilight was confident in the insulation and tree trimming work that she’d applied.

Twilight had just reached her testing station on the main floor to prepare a small shock of electricity to check the integrity of the wire and the flow of energy when she was startled by the opening of the door behind her. She jolted to her feet, spinning as she readied her small sewing needle like a dagger, her fight or flight response firing into high gear. The sight that greeted her, however, was enough to put a stopper in the energy that was building in her.

Spigor, holding a pile of foodstuffs, was forced to twist his way around the door, closing the door by hooking it with a boot and swinging it closed. He nodded to her as he entered and set the boxes down. Opening the top most box Spigor retrieved a pair of premade sandwiches, no doubt purchased in town, and made his way over to her. With a deep breath, he silently offered one of them to Twilight, grinning worriedly as she took it from him and began to inspect it.

Lifting the top slice of bread from its resting place, she levelled a glare to Spigor, a glare that seemed to want an answer.

“It was all they had!” He was quick to supply.

Twilight lowered her glare and once again looked at the ‘sandwich’ that had been given to her. It was, simply, two slices of bread with a large mass of dandelions held between them. She looked back to Spigor. “They didn’t have any meat, or cheese?”

“They didn’t even have lettuce or carrots or anything else!” Spigor answered, revealing his own sandwich that was devoid of even the dandelions, his ‘new’ stomach not being much of a fan of most plants. Even bread was pushing it.

Twilight blinked, once, before heading back into the kitchen. She dropped her sandwich onto the barren table without a second thought and made her way to a nearby crate, one of the ones they’d brought with them after her exile. After searching through the various odds and ends she found what she was looking for and pulled out the traps she’d used in Canterlot to keep the rats out of her lab. They were not in great condition, having taken a train ride in a box of metal odds and ends, and she quickly set to work on repairing them.

Spigor stood idly by for a moment, hazarding a few bites of his bread, before daring to speak up. “What are you doing Twilight?”

“You’re an obligate carnivore now, Spigor.” Twilight answered in a guilty tone of voice. “We need to get your dietary needs taken care of as soon as possible if you’re going to be of any help to me.” Twilight’s hands seemed to move of their own accord as her eyes fixed on something only she could see. “I know rats are not the ideal diet of dragons but-“

“Well, okay, I agree,” Spigor cut in, “about the obligate carnivore thing, but I can always do my own hunting at night. And you’re in the middle of an important project. You don’t need to-”

Twilight glared at him, it was her turn to cut in now. “I do, actually.” She said, her eyes focusing now onto the traps themselves. “No assistant of mine is going to be running around in the dead of night in an unfamiliar landscape for food like an animal.” Then, after a pause as she wound some wire, “Scholar Queen take me if I ever let that happen.”

Spigor looked to interrupt again but, seeing little chance of success in swaying her mind, sighed instead. “Did you finish the sewing job?” He asked half-heartedly, more to change the subject as he glanced to the windows to try and spot any would-be eavesdroppers. There weren’t any, of course, just the tree line lingered beyond those glass panes, but it was best to err on the side of caution.

“No.” Came the sharp reply, punctuated by the twang of metal. “Can you look over my work down there when you get a moment as well? I’m sure it’s fine, of course, but you always had a keener eye for thread.”

Nodding in resignation to how things were going to go, Spigor was about to make his way to the cellar door once again when a thought sifted its way to the top of his mind. Detouring slightly, Spigor grabbed the dandelion sandwich once again and placed it next to Twilight with a half-hearted smile. When she finally glanced away from the snare she was working on he made eye contact with her, seeing in her pupils a demand to know why he had intruded on her work. “Make sure you eat something.” He said simply and, after she nodded, he turned and strode away to descend down into the depths that lurked beneath the unassuming tree-like building.

Twilight, who was now alone at the table, glanced once at the sandwich and then to the far door that Spigor had closed behind him. “Thinks he has to look out for me or something,” She said quietly to herself. “You pass out from starvation one time.”

It was quick work, the traps were not even half as complicated as her other work, even beat up as they were, and Twilight quickly set them up around the corners of the house, torn pieces of bread from her sandwich resting as bait in place of cheese or some other much better food. Twilight hoped the rats would be as desperate as she was as she took a bite of the dandelion sandwich and found that, astonishingly, it wasn’t the worst tasting food she’d ever had.

That was when a knock came at the door. Twilight, already on the main floor after having set out the traps, moved towards it, her mind distracted by the project in the basement that it was eagerly looking to get started on again. She heard Spigor’s steps on the stairway and contemplated waiting for him, but decided against it.

Swinging open the door, she was greeted with the form of Rainbow Dash, larger than Twilight remembered her being, taking up the whole of the doorway. She wasn’t wearing her suit anymore, instead she had on a sleeveless shirt and shorts. Her hair seemed wilder than before too, straining against its ponytail shape. “Twilight Sparkle.” Rainbow Dash growled in greeting, tone flat, anger brewing like a thunderstorm just below the surface. “Want to explain to me why you haven’t been in town for even one full day and you’ve already started robbing graves?”

“What?” Twilight backpedaled, shocked to have been found out so easily but pretending to simply be confused. Rainbow took the opportunity to enter the room as Twilight gave up the ground. “Listen here you jumped up deputy, just because I was exiled for the reanimation of corpses doesn’t mean that-”

“As much as I would love to watch you dig your own grave, I don’t have the time today. You were seen in the act.” Rainbow said, her voice still flat, still full of potential anger, building. “And if you act quickly and run your sorry asses out into the forest right now I won’t bother coming after you, but if you stay here I’ll tear you apart myself.”

“Seen? By who!?” Twilight demanded, she wasn’t going to get banished a second time, at least not without some damn good evidence. She was sure that there hadn’t been a soul anywhere near the graveyard last night, she’d checked like a paranoid owl she would’ve seen something, surely.

Rainbow looked to the open door, Twilight following her gaze. There, in the middle of path, was a tree. There hadn’t been a tree there before, had there? “Fluttershy, want to let our soon to be gone friend here in on something?” Nothing happened for a moment, and Twilight looked harder at the tree and realized, with terror, she’d seen it in thecemeterythat night.

Slowly, dreadfully, the knots on the tree unwound themselves, wood stretched and reshaped itself and before too long Twilight could make out a face, then an arm, a torso, and then, suddenly, a whole humanoid creature. “Dryad…” Twilight breathed in amazement and confusion. “I thought they were a myth…”

“Oh, I’m not a dryad, not really,” said what could only have been this Fluttershy that Rainbow Dash had mentioned. “I, um, I was…”

“Doesn’t matter.” The anger that Rainbow Dash had been tamping down sensed an outlet and flooded into the words. “We have a witness, and proof, as far as that goes for your kind and we’ve also got mops too, to clean up the blood when I’m done with you.” When Twilight looked back to Rainbow Dash she could see the veins in her neck beginning to define themselves against her skin.

“I thought we weren’t going to tell people that.” Fluttershy said, frowning like a disappointed therapist, moving forward into the room.

“She isn’t people,” Rainbow hissed though her teeth, “She’s a scientist, and she won’t be ruining my town much longer. I just need her to tell me,” Rainbow lunged for Twilight. “What she did with the corpse!” There was a crash as lightning struck and in that same moment, Spigor was between Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle, holding her at bay.

Twilight, having nearly been hit, only being saved by inches, was only thinking about one thing. “That was lightning.” She said quietly, and managed to spot the blue flash that shot down the wires at the back of the room.

“What did you say?” Asked Fluttershy as Rainbow Dash and Spigor were held at a stand still, Rainbow Dash unable to damage the stalwart half-dragon in front of her, while Spigor struggled to find the concept of ‘offense’ under the oppressive force of his opponent.

“That was lightning!!!” Twilight said, her voice soaring into the vocal registers that Mad Scientists were known for.

Fluttershy seemed to want to ask the same question again when the thuds of heavy feet began to ascend the heavy stairs from the basement, Fluttershy’s face twisted in horror as realization dawned on her, inspiring a different question to slip through her quivering lips. “Wh-what did you do?” She asked, desperate eyes turning to Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle smiled wide, leaned back to look skyward, held two half clenched fists out to her sides and roared victoriously, “Science!!!!!”

Author's Note

It’s ALIVE!