Start of Darkness

by SymphonicSync

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Death, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 2801

An artisan has a project to defend her nation. Her rulers read the situation a bit differently.

Aster Loom's life goal is just outside of her reach. All that is needed to attain it is one simple letter.

After failing to proofread, there's only one thing to do; Double, Triple, Quadruple down.

Cover art by Chris the Blue

Published 2020-12-25 18:20:00 UTC
Last updated 2020-12-25 18:20:00 UTC

Chapter 1

An artisan's workshop is an unusually hectic place, contrary to the bulk of work produced by their kind. Hammers thumping, orders barking, pestles pestling, the din is everpresent as projects are rushed to completion. Hooves shuffle across the ground as projects are carried to and fro.

Within the battered walls of Aster Loom's studio, the cacophony raged all the same. All about her stood figures of marble and metal, wood and clay. Most were being produced for commissions from all across Equestria, but many were a part of her personal project.

And very soon, it would be complete.

Apprentices rushed past her, securing tools and supplies from desks across the room. Many had been studying under her for years. Most wouldn't know how to hold a chisel if not for her guiding hoof. So many of them had been vital in shaping her dream, a future for Equestria that she could be proud of.

"Faultline, your angle is just a little off," Aster corrected one of the latest hires while waving her hoof down, "And use a smaller hammer." As the brighteyed filly set down her chisel and reached for their toolbelt, she continued her stroll to the rear of the studio.

From behind her, she heard a hesitant "Ma'am?"

Without a break in her stride, she answered the filly, "Third bench on the west wall." Stepping up to a colt, she held out her hoof. He gingerly handed her the bowl he has been using to grind down some minerals. "Collard Greens, was it?" as he nodded his head, she continued "Try to use the walls of the mortar." She paused to show him the circular motions, then added "And add two more parts gypsum." Returning it to him, she stepped away.

The majority of her workers, such as Faultline and Collard, only helped in minor ways. Bringing out the general shape of the statues, making sure supplies were in order, producing the minor decorations that would not be looked over more than once, all the small tasks that would be little more than a hassle to the more experienced craftponies.

Making her way across the room, she asked the occasional "How goes it?" or "What do you need?" and waited for their answers. Commisions nearing completion, supplies needing to be ordered, a variety of requests for foodstuff, Aster recorded it all in the notebook levitating at her side.

Watching the staff go to work, her thoughts turned to how a small number of her understudies had eventually excelled in the craft, being brought onto the workshop's payroll as distuinguished artists in their own right. Several of Equestria's finest monuments had seen the keen eyes and worn tools of these sculptors. Aside from handling the bulk of the workshop's orders, many of them aided Aster Loom in her work. Only a few knew the full scope of her vision but all had been vital to bringing it as far as it was this day.

Formulas and incantations raced through her mind. Only a few finishing touches needed to be added to bring it through to completion. It had been a long road, paved over decades of dedication and delibaration but all her work would be more than worth it. Prototypes had failed, workers had been lost, the workshop had to be rebuilt several times over, she had suffered more than her fair share of anxious evenings, and she wouldn't have had it any other way.

Except for the lost workers, maybe. That was a little tragic. It was always a shame to see someone give up on the life of a starving artist. Yet she wished them the best on their future careers and carried on.

As she reached the blank door to the back wing and placed her hoof upon it, she glanced over her shoulder and called out "Lumber!"

A moment later, some muffled thumps followed by faint scratching noises came from near the front door. As mossy claws clicked across the tile floor, the newer workers parted like a crowd encountering one of the four princesses themselves. Unlike the older workers, they were not yet acclimated to being in such close proximity to a timberwolf.

If they knew that Lumber had been artificially created, their minds might have been set at ease. Or maybe not, Aster had yet to try informing the recruits of that. That particular section of her research was usually regarded as unnatural and didn't bode well for business. Potential customers didn't react well with the idea that their statuary figures might not remain statuary.

Lumber reached her and nuzzled his muzzle against her hind leg. The aging canine's eyes held a faint azure glow that was ever so slightly brighter next to his creator. Turning the ornate key, Aster gently brushed open the door and stepped inside with Lumber just a paw behind her. As opposed to the spacious front wing with dozens of ponies rushing about, the back wing had only a few trusted sculptors filing through the cramped walkways. Hundreds of pony-sized figures, formed from clay, were stored in stacks that reached toward the cieling and spred the length of the workshop.

They were to become her magnum opus, the pinnacle of nearly two decades worth of research and development.

Aster desended to the ground floor of the area, passing a couple workers in the dim light. Unlike the front wing, the windows of this room were shuttered and only a hoofful of candles lit her path. As they were, her creations had the inconvient sensitivity to temperature.

The wording for the particular enchantment to counter that imperfection danced through her mind once again. Flashes of the figures melting or remaining stiff no matter the heat played before her mind. Such setbacks would not occur in the latest rendition.

Hopefully.

As she approached her private quarters she cleared the stacks and was greeted with the sight of a few of her past creations. One resembled Lumber, but was much larger and made from composite materials. The transient essence did not agree with such a vessel, and turned out to be far more violent and predatory than even its source of inspiration. Yet, it had been able to live and such a milestone could not be ignored. Walking past what remained of that beast, she spoke in a whisper to the pony near her "Tell the others to set up ladders on rows A through E. Run the final integrity check." As they trotted off, Aster came before the model just prior to the current generation. It had excelled in almost every regard and stood nearly as tall as an alicorn. Rudimentary regalia adorned with dull pulsating runes rested on all the proper spots. The spells within the accesories made the already resilient form far more durable and rested underneath the strongest points of the being's natural shielding. However, the enchantments were far too taxing to support and the production time would have been drastically extended.

As she had slipped into reflecting on her past work, she failed to notice the stallion approaching her. He bent over, scratched Lumber behind the ear, and asked "Are you going to stand there all day, Ma'am?"

Shaking her head, she turned to face her chief assistant and answered "Oh, sorry Carver. I was just, I was just, um-"

"Going over some logistics?" Stone Carver interjected.

With a sigh, Aster resumed her walk to her office. Carver and Lumber followed just behind. "There's just so much left to do, and yet, so little. It's so near after all this time." she said, half in response to the stallion and half to the chatter of her own nerves.

Stepping ahead of his boss and opening the door for her and Lumber, Carver said "Truth be told, I'm almost frazzled as you are," glancing over the small space, littered with papers and tools, he continued "But we won't finish anything if you stay wrapped up in your thoughts."

She immediately went to work moving about stacks of paper, clearing commissions and work orders from her desk and replacing them with scrolls and research notes. She had seen them so many times that reading over them was an afterthought. Still, her eyes skimmed the fading pages. Sketches of timberwolves and the spirits residing within them stalked about the borders wherever they weren't scribbled in with the odd note and trivial observation. Lumber laid down under her desk and Carver sat in a chair across the room, taking to hoof a small medallion atop a spike. With a hammer and chisel, he went to work on a simple design atop the stud. After a few minutes, he tossed it in a crate with dozens more like it and grabbed another blank.

"How many more?" Aster questioned.

Dropping the hammer from his jaws, Carver answered "Five or six." A moment later, he asked in turn "Are you sure that we shouldn't prepare a second set?"

"The first group will be more than enough to defend Canterlot." a frustrated groan escaped her mouth, "I'm sure that after they are approved by Celestia, we'll have plenty of time and materials to devote to a full production schedule."

As he finished the last few studs, he rose from his seat and informed her "I'm going to go plant these in the well. When can I expect you?"

"Just, just a short while." she answered as she picked up a tiara and craddled it in her hooves.

"Aster," Carver spoke with an endearing tone, "This can wait, a few days at the least. You don't have to push yourself so hard."

"I'll be fine. I had a light brunch." he stared at her with an unamused expression. "Go and place them. I'll be right there."

As the door shut, and she was left alone with her thoughts and Lumber, her mind turned towards the circlet in her hooves. So much of her work had been focused on this little trinket and its counterpart in the next room over. Her hooves trembled and her shoulders ached as Aster raised it to her head. Lowering it around her horn, she flicked her ears about until it sat comfortably.

Then she waited.

She had performed the procedure a dozen times over in the past few weeks alone, yet it still set her nerves on edge. Lumber sat up and placed his head on her lap. Rubbing his nose with her hoof, she smiled as much as her tense and tired muscles would allow. After so many years, was a testament to how useless her worry was. The bark on his face and over his back was dried and sunbleached, but was still the host to a spirit that she only expected to last a few seconds at most. "You're right," she exclaimed, running her hoof under his chin, "this will work. For Equestria."

Rising out of her chair, Aster crossed the room and walked out into the back room. Locking the door behind her, she glanced over the stacks before her. Soon enough, they would be still no longer. Walking up a flight of skeletonized stairs, she moved along a catwalk. For the short time it took to arrive at the room that housed the well, her mind dwelled on the possible reasons why it was called a catwalk. The paw-sized holes in the grating? The height letting her observe everything below her? How only cats would survive the fall without injury?

That line of thought was ended by a faint buzzing sensation from the tiara atop her head. The sensation snapped her attention to the door infront of her. Sifting through the keys around her neck, she grabbed the correct one and placed it in the keyhole. Her hoof hesitated there as she resisted the urge to call for Lumber. He had stayed behind in her office, knowing to some extent the danger of going near the well.

Her breath took just a little more effort than normal. The sweet stench of tree sap reached her nose.

Turning the key, she strode into the room and firmly shut the door behind her. Seeing Stone Carver on the other side of the balcony, she quickly moved to stand beside him. As they exchanged nods, she focused on what lay below her.

Before converting it into a workshop, the majority of the building had been a winery. Aster had purchased the facility and land at a fair discount after a number of harsh storms had ruined the fertile grounds. This room housed one of the great winepressing pits, in which currently resided a rather large vat. The outside was covered in a thin walkway and small ledder, and hundreds of small circular slots. Carver was just about to finish placing the medallions into the outside of the well. For the past few years, Aster had been storing magical energy inside of the vat and tweaking the essence with a number of spells and charms. Within the vat was a sort of magical soup, molded into essence by her research. It was a cousin, more of less, of what lived within Lumber's body. The difference was a marehood of meticulous study, but the similarities ran the risk of seeing his soul slip into the well.

"And that's the last one," Carver's words broke through her ponderings, "it's your turn now, Miss Loom."

She clambered over the railing and stood on a small platform on top of the lid of the vat. Falling to her haunches, she closed her eyes and willed herself towards a state of meditation. As the medallions around the well began to glow a faint blue light, she whispered to herself "Everything, has been for this. Equestria shall never lie defenseless again."

As her horn awoke with a visible glow, the room was cast in an azure light. Scrolls, selected over weeks of deliberation, lifted themselves from her pouch and began to dance about her. Her mind was washed over by the dialogue within the parchments as her eyes shifted from symbol to symbol. As the minutes ticked past, her vision became a blur and the monotonous hum of the spellwork lulled her to rest.

*****

Aster opened eyes upon hearing a dull scraping sound. Her head lay on one half of a saddlebag, infused with the faint smell of burning chocolate. Lifting her head, she glared at Carver, "If you light that inside, I'm docking your pay."

The stallion froze, lighter in hoof and a cigar between his lips. "No worries ma'am," he spoke through gritted teeth as he lowered the lighter from his snout, "I know better than that." He balanced the cigar on hoof and dropped it into a pouch on his belt.

Sitting up next to him and slouching against the wall, Aster called his bluff "And I know that you're lying through your yellow teeth." Blinking her eyes and rubbing her face, she mumbled "Give me that canteen."

Pulling it off his hip and handing it to her, he chuckled "My teeth are whiter than yours." As she popped off the lid, he grabbed his saddlebag off the ground and hung it to his side.

Aster held up a hoof, gulped down most of the canteen, and spat out "Give it time." Tilting it away from her and peering inside, she wiped her lips with a forehoof.

"It's tea," he said.

"I can't taste a thing," she answered.

With a sigh, she rested her head against the wall and passed the canteen back to him. After drinking what remained, he added "I didn't say it was good tea."

She let out a stifled laugh and asked "How long?"

Standing up, Carver rearranged his belt and stretched his legs before saying "I'd say about half an hour. I was messing with that lighter for quite a while."

Aster stretched her forelegs and continued her questioning "Did you start the embedding process?"

As Carver turned around and started towards the door, he answered "Yes. I had Alabaster round up some of the older workers and had them start to plant the studs. I would have helped, but..." His words caught in his throat as he looked back to where she had slept.

"It's fine, thank you," she stammered as she rose to her hooves. As she pulled some stray locks of hair from over her face and put them back into her mane, her gaze fell to the ground. There she could see the smallest trace of ash. Her eyes shot up and narrowed on Carver. Both stallion and mare remained silent as Aster walked towards him and stopped halfway through the doorframe. After a few seconds, she leaned back and whispered into his ear, "Your Hearth's Warming bonus, is mine."