Ponest Dungeon

Chapter 13 Neutralizing the Necromancer

Week 10, Day 5, Afternoon

“There were no signs of them,” Tempest reported bluntly.

“Nothing?” Blueblood’s eyes twitched a little as he looked between Bon Bon, Lyra, Tempest, and Zecora. “Not even a trace?”

“We just spent the better part of three days scouring the surrounding countryside,” Tempest said cooly. “If they had left the farm, or were killed by any of the animals or bandits we were forced to dispatch, we would have found them. Your implicit instructions to not enter Sweet Apple Acres, lest we share their fate, were tactically sound.”

Sitting back in his chair, Blueblood stared dumbly at the hoofmark Tempest had previously hammered into the drawing room table. “Four ponies… gone.” He sighed and flicked a piece of parchment across the table. “Just like… that.”

Tempest didn’t even bat an eye. “It happens.”

Opening his mouth to protest, Blueblood closed it when he found that he had no valid argument with which to counter Tempest’s statement. He looked back at the table for a few moments before raising his eyes back up to hers. “You said bandits… and animals?”

“Correct,” Tempest said. “Although the term ‘creatures’ might be more appropriate.”

Blueblood raised an eyebrow.

“We encountered several diseased canines,” Tempest said. “The most disturbing thing about them was their ferocity, despite extensive deformities and obvious tissue necrosis.”

Shaking his head, Blueblood grabbed a stack of papers. “Sounds like our necromancer friend again—”

“Possibly,” Tempest said, “but these beasts were alive. I suspect that it is some form of eldritch corruption that altered them. But I am no expert.”

“It is truly a shame that we no longer have Miss Sparkle or Miss Glimmer to call upon,” Blueblood said. “Their expertise would have been very valuable in determining these creatures’ origins.”

“Miss Glimmer is blind and bedridden,” Tempest said. “And, despite everypony’s reluctance to consider the possibility, Miss Sparkle is likely dead. We will need to ramp up our recruitment efforts, or we will be ill equipped to keep creatures like these cancerous canines in check.”

“Don’t forget about the spiders!” Lyra piped in, while trying to magically pull strands of webbing from her mane.

Tempest’s retaliatory glare could have brought a pot of cold water to a boil within seconds. “We also did encounter some vastly overgrown spiders. I think it is safe to say that the corruption… is spreading.”

Blueblood remained silent. He wanted to formulate some sort of plan to deal with this newly emergent threat, but found his mind wandering towards estimating how much wine was left in the crates he’d brought from Canterlot. The thing in his foreleg squirmed slightly. It was going to take at least one bottle for him to calm himself from all of this—probably more.

Week 11, Day 2, Afternoon

The giant spider’s fangs shattered when Tempest's foreleg-plate smashed into its mandibles. Her follow-up buck obliterated the arachnid, sending ichor and chitin spraying through the air.

Bon Bon threw a hook attached to the end of a rope, snagging one of the spiders that was trying to sling webs at the group from a distance. She dragged the creature within grabbing distance of Lyra, who promptly stepped on its head, grinding it into the ground.

Zecora poured a healing salve on one of the bites that Lyra had acquired, and watched it seal shut. “Less wounds, I would have to mend,” she said as she threw an acid-sachet into a spider’s face, “if you just tried to defend.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“She means—” Bon Bon ducked under a set of fangs to bury her axe in the underside of a spider. “—you need to try dodging a little so she doesn’t have to heal you as much!”

“I resent that remar—” Lyra shrieked as a pony-sized spider sank its fangs into her neck.

Bon Bon jumped up and buried her axe into the arachnid’s back, causing her, the spider and Lyra to fall to the ground. Zecora quickly approached them to start pouring several vials of liquid onto the now purple-faced Lyra.

“The reports Blueblood asked us to investigate were correct,” Tempest said. “There are definitely more of the creatures than there were last time.” Looking back at the state of the others, she sighed. “We should head back.”

Week 12, Day 1, Dawn

The sun rose, illuminating Ponyville in the bright rays of what promised to be a cloudless, and likely sweltering day. As the light passed over a ramshackle wagon with purple siding and a star-pattern-roofed, it revealed four very disoriented ponies.

Snails looked around “What—”

“Just—” Applejack cut in.

“Happened?” Twilight finished.

Big Mac shrugged. “I think—”

“What just happened is that you four just put on the most pathetic performance the Great and Powerful Trixie has ever seen!”

Everypony turned towards the wagon that housed the Great and Powerful Trixie.

“If you’ve got the bits, The Great and Powerful Trixie can help you spice up your act—oooh. Or if you’re willing to part with some of that.” She pointed at several oddly glowing shards that littered the ground around the group.

Twilight looked at the others, receiving only shrugs in return. “How about we get back to you, Trixie? We’re kinda working.”

Harrumphing, Trixie crossed her forelegs and leaned on the half door at the back of her wagon. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is feeling generous, and will take a rain-check on your purchasing of items to astound and impress! But don’t tarry too long! The Great and Powerful Trixie will pick up stakes and move if this town doesn’t provide her with some actual business!”

“Twilight?” Applejack looked at Twilight as they shoveled the shards into their bags.

“Yes Applejack?” Twilight met the other mare’s eyes.

“What’re the chances—” Applejack looked at the ground. “I mean… those were just copies of my family, right?” She turned hopeful eyes back up to Twilight. “That means they’re still there on the farm somewhere, right?”

Twilight couldn’t stand to look Applejack in the eyes and instead chose to stare at the ground. “I don’t think so; from the destruction we saw, I think everything inside the stone barricades was burned to death in the blast. What we fought were just… echoes of the ponies who died when the comet landed.” She reached a hoof out and placed it on Applejack’s withers. “I’m afraid everypony who was on your family farm is dead; Applejack, I’m so sorry.”

When Twilight dared to look, she saw that Applejack’s eyes were burning like coals. “Somepony’s gonna pay for this, Twilight; I swear it.”

“Eeyup.” Big Mac’s eyes were uncharacteristically dark.

Week 12, Day 1, Morning

“Well,” Blueblood said, “I’m glad to know you’re alive. We gave up hope you’d return after the first week passed. So, you were unable to retrieve anything from the farmstead?” The news caused Blueblood more anxiety than he cared to let on; the company’s coffers were extremely low after the farm trip, and the subsequent search and rescue mission, as well as the creature clearing the week before. The company would now need a successful haul to prevent them from going bankrupt.

Blueblood caught Twilight staring at his eye, now fully restored. He had been pleased that the arctic blue of his irises had not been permanently altered while he’d housed the comet’s strange color. He’d noticed that the other company members—with the exception of Tempest—seemed unsettled when he stared at them now; whether this was a side effect of the color, or resulted from something else, he couldn’t say.

Twilight was silent for a moment, looking between Blueblood and the eternally stoic Tempest. “Not exactly,” she finally replied. She lifted a hefty bag onto the drawing room table. Glowing shards spilled out when she undid the clasp. “These came back with us when the entity ejected us from the farm.”

“What are they?” Blueblood lit his horn and tried to pick one up with his magic, but found that he couldn’t lift the shard. It felt… “slippery” was the best word his brain could apply to the sensation.

“I don’t know,” Twilight replied, “but the farmhooves that attacked us had these growing out of them. Equestrian magic acts weird around the shards. I think this is because they hold some form of magical charge that operates on a wavelength that disrupts arcane frequencies.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Blueblood said as he leaned forward and picked up one of the shards in his hoof. “Can we use them? Or sell them?”

Twilight put a hoof to her chin. “Well, we do have a trinket vendor in town.”

Blueblood looked up from the bag with a flat expression. “I assume you mean Trixie,” he said in an equally flat voice.

“She’s expressed interest in the shards,” Twilight replied, nodding. “She might even be able to make items for us. As for their sale value… I don’t even want to guess. The only ponies who would likely be interested in these would be those who study the occult; a regular trinket maker would find these impossible to work with since they disrupt thaumatics so much.”

“All right then.” Blueblood hoofed the shards back into the bag and pushed it towards Twilight. “Take these to her and see what she can do, or if she needs more.”

“Okay,” Twilight said. She turned to go, but then stopped and looked back at Blueblood. “Is… Shining out of treatment yet?”

“No,” Blueblood replied. “Nurse Redheart said that he’s making good progress though, and should be ready to leave sometime next week. Oh, before I forget!” He deposited four pouches onto the table in front of Twilight as she turned back around. “That’s your group’s pay, spend it wisely.”

Blueblood thought for a moment. “How are the Apples?”

“It looks like they’re taking it surprisingly well,” Twilight answered.

Blueblood’s eyebrows rose at her tone. “But?”

“It’s made them very upset,” Twilight said, frowning. “They’ve sworn vengeance against whoever is responsible… and you did tell them Celestia designed and installed the array…”

“Yes,” Blueblood said. “And she designed it to attract the comet.”

“On purpose?!” Twilight's eyes were wide.

“Yes,” Blueblood replied. “Her motives for doing so are unknown. But I knew Celestia; the thought that she would willingly bring harm to others for absolutely no reason is drastically out of character for her.”

Tears began to well up in Twilight’s eyes. “We killed so many copies of Applejack & Big Mac’s family. I don’t know if I could deal with it if I had to kill a family member. But this… I don’t know how I’m going to be able to tell them.”

“You won’t,” Tempest boomed.

“I… won’t?” Twilight asked.

“No,” Blueblood confirmed. “You won’t.”

“But I—”

“Miss Sparkle,” Tempest said, “one of this company’s primary goals is the safe return of Celestia.”

Twilight’s eyes widened in comprehension. She raised a forehoof to her chin in thought. “They’d… they’d definitely want to kill her. I can’t tell them, can I? But… then why even tell me?”

“We figured you were too smart,” Blueblood said. “I didn’t want to risk not telling you and then have you discover the truth on your own. Any other questions?”

Twilight shook her head and turned to leave.

Blueblood thought he heard Twilight mutter the words “so many books” as she trotted out of the room with the money purses levitated in her magic.

“You didn’t tell her about Starlight.” Tempest said once she had closed the study doors.

Blueblood frowned. In his experience, Tempest rarely asked actual questions; she seemed to like making statements that required him to make an explanation.

“No, I didn’t,” Blueblood replied. “It’s been two damned weeks, and we still don’t know what’s wrong with Starlight. We can’t take her to the sanitarium; they’re not going to understand anything about treating some strange color that renders a pony blind. Starlight is learned in the occult which, ironically enough, makes her the best pony for figuring out how to fix the problem.”

Tempest continued to look at him from the corner of one eye. “We discussed this two weeks ago; Twilight is also an expert on the occult. You must have a reason for not including her.”

Blueblood nodded. “She’s knowledgeable, but rash. You weren’t here for when she detonated Amethyst—”

The thing in Blueblood’s left foreleg squirmed and he clamped down on it with his right one.

Shifting slightly, Tempest moved her gaze away from Blueblood and towards a single shard that had rolled under one of the many pieces of parchment on the table. “I would say that we should have Starlight have a look at your leg—”

“Look at?” Blueblood cut in. “Are you trying to develop a sense of humor on me, Tempest?”

She turned to face him, her normal scowl having deepened. “Absolutely not; I was going to say ‘but we’ll have to wait until after we cure her.’”

Blueblood released his leg, the thing beneath his skin having apparently decided to calm itself. “Well… that’s assuming, of course, that there is a cure.”

Week 12, Day 1, Noon

Holding one of the shards in her hoof, Trixie turned to Twilight. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will have to experiment with these before she can tell you what can be created from them. They aren’t like regular gems, or even enchanted gems.” She tapped the shard with her other hoof. “But fear not! The Great and Powerful Trixie will be able to create something that will be sure to amaze and astound you!”

“Thanks, Trixie.” Twilight looked into the bag that held the rest of the shards. “How many will you need?”

“All of them,” Trixie replied.

Twilight’s eyes widened. “All of them?”

“That, is what the Great and Powerful Trixie said.”

Feeling pensive, Twilight alternated her gaze between the bag and Trixie. “Can I at least keep a few for my own studies?”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn’t see why not; you can keep three of the smaller ones.”

Sighing in relief, Twilight grabbed three crystals from the bag before hoofing it over to Trixie.

Just as Twilight was about to leave, she spied an item on one of the shelves in Trixie’s cart. “What book is that?” She pointed a hoof.

Trixie levitated the tome over to Twilight. “Ah, fine choice; I can see you have a keen eye for interesting literature.” She opened the book so Twilight could peek inside. “This, is a ‘book of intuition.’ Using the techniques described therein gives you a sense—instinctual in nature—that allows you to react to near future events!”

Twilight read from the two pages she could see. “Is there a practical application?”

“Trixie has used it in the past to avoid potholes and bandits.”

“Hrmm—” Twilight did like the idea; plus it was another book for her to read. “I’ll take it!”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie thanks you for your patronage,” Trixie said, bowing. Somehow, Trixie managed to sell her the book for far more than she had originally been willing to pay.

Twilight silently cursed herself for not forcing Starlight to let them read Bartering for Beginners. Despite the highway robbery, she couldn’t help but giggle excitedly as she trotted away with the new book open. She was so engaged in reading as she went, that she didn’t even notice the loose cobble that she miraculously avoided. Nor did she notice the near collision with Ditzy Doo, which resulted in the wall-eyed caretaker swerving and running face-first into a street lamp.

Week 12, Day 1, Evening

“So,” Blueblood said to the assembled company, “to sum up the last hour of numbers and maps, we need a successful expedition resulting in a sizeable profit or… this enterprise will be bankrupt.”

There were sharp intakes of breath all around.

Ditzy fainted, hitting the floor with a thump.

Blueblood reminded himself to get the wine cellar key from her when she woke up. “The best place for acquiring bits and valuables thus far has been the catacombs underneath the ruins which lead up to the Castle of the Two Sisters. Since the company’s future is at stake, I’m going to be sending in our heavy-hitters.”

Everypony turned to Tempest.

Putting a hoof to his forehead, Blueblood chuckled. “It’s that obvious, is it?”

Lyra threw out her forehooves. “Tempest has more kills than the rest of the company combined!”

“That,” Tempest said, “is a blatant exaggeration.”

“Close enough though,” Blueblood said. “Tempest, you’re definitely going.” He turned away from her. “Big Mac?”

“Eeyup?” he answered.

“You wrestled that damnable cragodilian,” Blueblood said.

“Eeyup.”

“And you won; you’re going.”

Big Mac looked over at Applejack, who nodded. He turned back to Blueblood. “Eeyup.”

“Lyra.” Blueblood turned his gaze to her. “You actually turn into a monster. Plus I saw that there’s a good combat synergy between you and Tempest.”

Bon Bon patted her “best friend” on the withers. “You’ll do great, bestie.” Lyra smiled and hugged Bon Bon in response.

“Twilight,” Blueblood said, turning away from the “best friends” to face his final pick. “They are going to need your versatility, both with healing and your ability to… do horrific things.”

Straightening in her seat, Twilight met eyes with Blueblood. “I won’t let you down.”

He looked at all of the assembled ponies. “Anypony not chosen for this mission, do not take it personally. You have all proved yourselves in combat and are all essential to this company’s success, especially in the long term. But we need this win. The team succeeds, or we’re finished.”

Week 12, Day 3, Afternoon

The last of the skeletons was pulled into a portal by a group of grasping tentacles. A locked chest was bucked open by Tempest and looted by Lyra.

“How much is that so far?” Tempest looked back to Twilight, who was cataloguing the haul in a weathered journal.

“About sixty-five-hundred,” Twilight replied. “That’s just in bits. The assorted gems will probably add another few thousand to that. Plus there’s the heirlooms.”

“We’ll clear a few more rooms then,” Tempest said. “Mr. Macintosh—” She gestured to the door to the next hallway. “—if you please?”

Big Mac bucked the wooden door off of its hinges and moved to step forward into the umbral corridor.”

Tempest held up a hoof. “Stop. Something is wrong,” she said into the darkened tunnel.

Big Mac warily eyed the darkness ahead. “Eeyup.”

Lyra looked at the two larger ponies and then down the seemingly empty hallway. “What’s up with you two? We’ve been kicking serious flank down here, and it’s not like you guys to be skittish.”

“We are not being skittish,” Tempest said with a glare. “I feel eyes on us. There is an ambush ahead.”

Twilight lit her horn for a few moments. “I do sense a powerful necromantic presence ahead.”

“The necromancer?” Tempest asked.

“No,” Twilight replied. “Whatever it is, it isn’t giving off a strong enough aura for it to be the necromancer. But it’s still much nastier than any of the run-of-the-mill skeletons we’ve been encountering.”

“Then I’ll go first,” Tempest said.

“Eeynope.” Big Mac stood in front and locked eyes with Tempest. For several moments, the two monumental ponies stared at each other with narrowed eyes.

“You flagellants are gluttons for punishment, aren’t you?” Tempest said with a thin smile. “Well then—” She gestured to the corridor. “—be my guest.”

Big Mac grinned and took about a dozen steps into the tunnel. He jumped back a pace as a ghoulish monstrosity sprang up from a pile of refuse, snarled, and lunged at him. Catching its claws with his forehooves, he growled back almost as loudly.

The creature appeared to have once been a pony. Exposure to potent necromantic energies had distorted it, however. Its teeth had become jagged and sharp, its forehooves had elongated into wicked claws, and it was enormous; easily head and shoulders above Big Mac. It snapped its fanged maw, trying to tear his face off.

Tempest sidestepped Big Mac and dove for the ghoul’s hind legs, smashing her forehooves into its knees and breaking them with a loud crunch.

The monster fell to its haunches, and Big Mac was able to easily flip it over to its back. Raising both hooves to smash the ghoul’s face in, he screamed in agony as a second of the monstrosities jumped over the first and sank its teeth into his neck.

A bestial roar sounded, preceding a long aquamarine limb snaking around the creature’s neck. With a violent jerking motion, Lyra clenched her arm tightly and twisted, her muscles straining against those of the monster. Suddenly, a series of loud cracks sounded out, heralding the breaking of the ghoul’s vertebrae. She dropped it to the ground as its milky-white eyes rolled back in their sockets.

Twilight lit her horn, causing her carved skull to glow and painfully sealing Big Mac’s wounds.

Tempest stomped on the crippled ghoul’s head, collapsing it and spreading vile diseased brain matter across the floor. “Nastier indeed, Miss Sparkle.” She glanced over to Twilight and narrowed her eyes. “Just how accurate is your detection spell?”

“Umm,” Twilight said, “it’s very accurate at short range, but that falls off exponentially as the distance increases.

“But you are still able to get an accurate bearing on the necromancer?” Tempest asked.

“I think so,” Twilight said.

“Good,” Tempest said. “Continue to take bearings and marking it on our map as we finish this area off.”

“I still don’t understand what the point—” With a roar, Lyra returned to pony form. “—of doing that is.”

“Triangulation,” Twilight said. “If we get enough bearings on the necromancer from different locations, then we should be able to calculate their location.”

Lyra looked at Twilight and Tempest with wide eyes. “That’s possible?”

“Possible,” Twilight said, “but difficult, especially with only one excursion like this. I know what calculations need to be run, but it will probably take me a long time to do them.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that you do the numbers,” Tempest said. “That colt, Snails, has already proven his competence with geometry when he swiftly calculated the trajectory of the comet. The only question which now needs answering is how many points of reference he’ll need.”

Week 12, Day 4, Afternoon

Snails looked at the map and the bearings. “These are all the bearings you got there, eh?”

“Yes,” Tempest said. “Can you—”

Lifting a protractor, a ruler, and a quill, Snails started to draw lines radiating from each of the points. They all seemed to pass through a certain part of the ruins, but did not seem to be much overlap. “With what we have, I can narrow it down to a few-acre-wide swath inside the city ruins, but I’m gonna need one more set of bearings, probably from somewhere—” He circled an area on the map. “—around here. That way I can compare them and give you something more helpful, like a more accurate location inside of a few acres, eh?”

Tempest looked at the map. “I will find Blueblood and inform him that our next mission location will be there.” She turned to leave.

“He’s been spending an awful lot of time in the wine cellar there recently. That’s prolly where you’ll find him, eh?”

Remaining in place for a few moments, Tempest clenched her jaw tightly. Then she began to head for the estate basements.

Week 13, Day 4, Evening

Tempest swiftly approached the Tavern. The shoulder-plate of her armor, freshly scuffed and scratched from combat, struck the doors with enough force to almost remove them from their hinges. The looks of outrage on both Berry Shine’s and Bulk Biceps’ faces were quickly replaced by ones of bowel-loosened terror when they took in Tempest’s appearance and her eyes skewered theirs.

Snails sat alone, nursing a cider and staring reverently at the rusted mace which lay upon the table in front of him.

“How long?” Tempest slammed the map down next to Snips’ old weapon. She then upended a small saddlebag, which spilled out a protractor, a ruler, and a quill.

Looking at the map and tools, Snails lit his horn and drew on the map, new lines crisscrossing the previous ones. In less than a minute he had reduced the search area for the necromancer to a small section of the catacombs. “There.”

Tempest unceremoniously shoved the completed map into her armor and turned to leave. She made it a single hoofstep from the table when she paused and turned her head halfway back towards Snails. “You do well honoring your fallen comrade by continuing to work and move forward. I won’t lie to you and say that it gets easier, because it doesn’t. Make the pain a part of the armor you wear. Don’t make the mistake of trying to let time dull that pain, or—before you know it—you’ll have forgotten everything about him.”

Snails met Tempest’s eyes which, for once, weren’t set in a hard glare.

She turned back to the exit and started to walk. “Never allow yourself to forget. You won’t just lose the bad times; you’ll also lose the good times as well.”

Week 13, Day 5, Morning

“Next two applicants!” Ditzy said with a small titter. She hoofed two pieces of parchment across the table towards Blueblood, Tempest, and Twilight.

“So,” Blueblood began, “your name is… Octavia Melody?”

Octavia unslung the giant cello case from her back, set it to the side, and performed a short bow. “Yes, Sir; that is correct.”

Putting her resumé down, he looked at the grey-coated mare. He took note that she spoke in a Trottingham accent, something usually rare even in Canterlot. “It says here that you… ah… turn into a monster?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, that is correct.”

Steepling his hooves, Blueblood looked her over. “Well, I don’t suppose a demonstration would be appropriate here, but if that is your only skill, I would want some form of proof or testimony or—”

“Yeah, she totally turns into a monster,” her companion, Vinyl Scratch—a goggled, white-coated mare with neon blue hair & highlights—said.

“Into something physically intimidating?” Blueblood pressed.

Vinyl grinned. “Well, if by that you mean ‘can she tear a stallion in half?’ Then yeah; it’s pretty rad when she goes into ‘frenzy’ mode.”

Turning his attention to Vinyl, he took a quick look at her resumé. “This says that you’re… a doctor?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Vinyl said.

Blueblood didn’t bother to hold back his incredulity. “No offense, Miss Scratch, but you don’t look like a doctor—”

There was a loud thumping sound outside that made Blueblood turn around. There wasn’t much that he could see, as Tempest had immediately interposed herself between him and the window.

Blueblood was thankful for her quick actions when, moments later, the drawing room windows exploded inwards, showering him, Tempest, Twilight, and the massive drawing room table with glass.

Twilight shrieked and held her hooves to her eyes and face. She fell to the ground and rolled around, wailing.

Blueblood could hear grinding as Tempest grit her teeth, and saw a pony-sized boulder had struck her broadside. The cracking of bones had been audible, but she didn’t flinch, even when a thin line of blood began to trickle from her mouth. “Run. I’ll cover you—”

Blueblood saw a golden magical aura surround Tempest; she narrowed her eyes as she was hurled out of the window with tremendous force. She didn’t make any noise as her trajectory took her past the wall that surrounded Celestia’s estate.

Blueblood vaulted over the table just before a unicorn appeared in a golden flash and ran a sword through the chair he had just been occupying.

Blueblood made a quick visual assessment of the stallion. He was tall and thin, with a bland-colored coat, and his facial features seemed oddly familiar.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Blueblood shouted as comprehension dawned on him.

“You killed my father and my brother,” the unicorn said as he turned and unsheathed his sword from the chair. “You will die this day, by my hooves, you piece of filth.”

“Your family just doesn’t have any survival instinct, does it?” Blueblood hoped his goading would cause this obviously powerful unicorn to make some kind of mistake.

The unicorn approached. “I’ll have my vengeance, Prince. I don’t care if I will be hunted for the rest of my life if it means that I get to see you die.”

Blueblood dodged a sword swing and used his magic to grab a halberd from one of the suits of armor that flanked the drawing room door. “Well somepony’s a gloomy-gus,” he said as the weapon floated next to him.

“I’m surprised you know my name, Prince. From what my father spoke of you, I’d hardly expect you to—”

“Wait.” Blueblood held up a hoof. “Your name… actually is ‘Gloomy Gus?’”

“Yes,” Gloomy scowled, swinging his sword again and again, his sudden and furious assault keeping Blueblood on the defensive. “I’ll be more satisfied knowing that you knew who it was that killed you!”

Blueblood was driven back until his flank butted against the wall. Another swing from Gloomy and his halberd was cut in half, the pieces flying in opposite directions.

Gloomy approached and pinned Blueblood to the wall with his magic as he held his sword above them both. “I’m going to enjoy this, Prince.”

“Hay!” Blueblood and Gloomy turned just in time to see that Vinyl had pulled something out of her saddlebags. The peculiar item resembled one of the portable “boomboxes” that had gone out of style decades prior. A rippling wave of distortion passed through the air into Gloomy, sending him flying.

“Just what the doctor ordered!” Vinyl yelled. “Aw, yeah!”

Blueblood gasped as he saw Octavia change. Her entire form elongated, to physically fill a decent portion of the room. The sight of fur retracting into leathered skin and terrifyingly razor-sharp teeth replacing regular equine dentition filled him with horror and revulsion, yet somehow still gave him a bizarre feeling of hope.

As Octavia slowly sauntered over to Gloomy, the severely stunned stallion stood to his hooves, looking up at what could only be described as a great white shark on hooves. “What the f—”

Octavia’s gaping maw snapped forward, closing on Gloomy’s withers and the front of his barrel. There was a sickening crunch as she lifted the flailing, screaming pony into the air. The screaming turned into a wet shriek that abruptly cut off when she swung her head back and forth; her massive teeth acted as a saw and cut right through muscle and bone like a knife through warm butter—only with a few dozen more knives.

Gloomy’s back two thirds fell to the floor, twitching. The contents of his rib cage spilled out through the gaping hole that used to be his head, neck, and collar.

Blueblood watched in horrified fascination as Octavia growled and threw her head back, while opening her jaw. He could see the terrified expression on Gloomy’s fully intact—and possibly still conscious—upper portion as it was flung to the back of Octavia’s mouth and then swallowed.

Blueblood stood still for a moment, watching as Octavia shrank back to pony form. Then he looked again at the corpse. And then back to Octavia.

“Where… where the Tartarus did his head go?”

Vinyl laughed. “Uh, she ate it, duh.”

Octavia herself didn’t look too thrilled about the question, or the fact that her front was spattered in pony blood.

Blueblood couldn’t stop looking between the corpse and Octavia. “Yes, but it was a whole pony head and neck and… your barrel isn’t large enough to hold that!”

Vinyl laughed again. “She turns into a giant shark. Did you expect anything about that to make sense?”

Before Blueblood could answer, Tempest burst through the window, death gleaming in her eyes. “Where is the one who threw me?”

Blueblood gestured at the partial corpse.

Tempest’s expression returned to her “normal” bowel-loosening scowl. “He’s lucky I didn’t get my hooves on him. He’d have begged for this end.”

“Don’t worry,” Blueblood said, “Neighsay has a lot of kids. And they seem to just keep lining up for the chopping block; I wager you’ll get your chance to kill at least one.”

“Vinyl,” Blueblood said, pointing towards Twilight, who was still sobbing and covering her glass-shrapnel covered face. “Your resumé said you were a doctor?”

“Oh, yeah!” Vinyl said. “A spin doctor!”

Unable to furrow his brows any further, Blueblood turned to Tempest. “Get Zecora, she may be the only pony on hoof who can treat her.” He then looked back at Octavia and Vinyl. “Oh, you’re both hired, by the way; welcome aboard.”

Week 13, Day 5, Evening

“How are you feeling, Starlight? Have you been getting any rest?”

Starlight turned over, showing Twilight that her eye bandages had soaked through with blood again. “You’ve found where the necromancer is hiding, and you’re going to send a group to fight her?”

“How did—”

“I’m blind, Twilight.” She sat up in the bed, twin trails of blood running down her muzzle from her sockets. She turned to face her. “But… I don’t need eyes to see; not anymore.”

Twilight watched as Starlight rolled out of the bed and began to circle her. This wasn’t like anything she had ever heard about before, and they had studied many things together.

Starlight stopped right in front of Twilight, turning to face her dead on. “I see everything now. I see the past, the present, the future; they’re all the same to me. I see that you were going to tell me that you managed to heal your eyes after they were shredded by glass—Is it odd that I’m not really envious? Or is it more odd that I secretly wish you’d been unable to fix them?”

Worry creeping into her mind, Twilight put her left forehoof to Starlight’s withers, cringing as she looked at the crimson bandages. “Starlight, you cured Blueblood of this… blindness. We can use your technique to restore your sight as well, only this time we’ll figure some way to exile that color, so it won’t come back.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Starlight asked. “I couldn’t dream of abandoning this avenue of sensation that I now walk.” She chuckled. “Besides, I know that—blind or not—Blueblood will eventually have me killed. I desire to live as long as possible and to give ponykind the best chance for survival; my best chances lie with remaining blind.”

“What?” Twilight was taken aback. “Blueblood may be ruthless on occasion, but he has no reason to have you killed!”

“He will,” Starlight said. “I’ve seen it; for me, it has already happened.”

Twilight found herself at a complete loss for words.

“Leave me now, Twilight; you have a necromancer to defeat. She’s waiting for you. Besides, I need more rest; the blood loss is quite… draining.”

After leaving the room and thinking for a moment, Twilight started. “Her,” she’d said. Starlight knew the necromancer was a mare. If Starlight really could see the future now. “I won’t let her be killed,” she promised herself. “By the powers of the void, I won’t allow it.”

Week 14, Day 1, Morning

Blueblood hoofed the magical skeleton keys to Twilight, noticing the bags under her eyes. “You sure you’re up for this? You haven’t had a break since you went to the farm.”

“I’m fine,” Twilight snapped. “Starlight and I have been tracking this necromancer for a while now. Since she can’t, I’m going to be there when they’re taken down.”

“Well,” Blueblood said, “I know you tackled those ruins all by yourself, but I’m still worried you might be overdoing it.”

“Starlight wasn’t overdoing it,” Twilight said flatly.

Blueblood cringed. “That was an unfortunate accident, you know it’s normally much safer here.”

“Then I’ll take a break after this mission,” Twilight replied. “Besides, you’re sending Lyra, Bon Bon, and Tempest with me; what could possibly—”

He held up a hoof. “Don’t tempt fate, Twilight. Not here, not in this place.”

“Ok,” she said “but still, I think we have this well in hoof.”

“Of course we do!” Lyra chimed in as she stuffed torches into her saddlebags. “We’re professionals!”

Bon Bon sighed.

“Come, we’re wasting time.” Tempest was—thankfully—all business, as usual.

Week 14, Day 1, Afternoon

The group trotted through the Everfree at a fairly decent pace. Tempest wouldn’t have it any other way; too many operations she’d been a part of in the past had allowed members to waste time and resources. She would have been completely satisfied with their progress had Lyra been able to keep her muzzle shut.

“Think we’ll run into another shambler?” Lyra was referring to the designation given to the monster that had mauled Amethyst.

“Unlikely,” Tempest replied. “I read the after-action report. We now know how to summon one; all we need to do is avoid placing a lit torch into one of those altars.”

“How long have you two been together?” Twilight directed the question at Bon Bon and Lyra.

Tempest suppressed the urge to express her distaste at the unnecessary socialization; they were on a mission, not in the barracks or on personal time. She instead lead by example, remaining silent as the others prattled on.

“A few years now,” Bon Bon replied. “After my unit was disbanded, I found myself wandering around Canterlot without any real direction, just taking odd jobs to keep myself from having to sleep on the streets. I took to bounty hunting because it paid well and matched my skill set. I ran into Lyra here when I was hunting down a stallion by the name of Steelback. After a few weeks of looking for the guy, I finally managed to track him down to this bar in the city outskirts. I walk in, see him hitting on a mare at the bar who obviously wasn’t interested—”

“That was me!” Lyra added helpfully.

“Well, let's just say that I was going to put the hurt to the guy anyways because of his record, but he went and made the mistake of grabbing a hoofful of Lyra’s flank.” Bon Bon chuckled. “The next thing I know, she turns into this huge bipedal monster, picks Steelback up by one foreleg and one hind leg, and BAM!” She smashed her hooves together.

“Steelback didn’t live up to his name,” Lyra said with a shrug.

Twilight recoiled slightly. “You broke his back?”

“Yeah,” Lyra replied. “What? He deserved it.”

Scrunching her face, Twilight tilted her head. “I don’t know if anypony deserves—”

“He did deserve it, Twilight,” Bon Bon cut in. “His wanted poster had him listed as a murderer and rapist.”

“That doesn’t guarantee he did those things though,” Twilight said. “Anypony can just draw up a wanted poster, and put whatever they want on it.”

“Well, considering how hot and heavy he was forcing his moves on Lyra,” Bon Bon replied, “I was leaning towards believing the charges.”

Lyra nodded emphatically. “He did say some pretty pervy stuff. Something about scalding me with candle wax and then sticking the candle in my—”

“Lyra!” Bon Bon scowled. “Too much information!”

“What?” Lyra crossed her forehooves. “He’s the one who said all that stuff, not me!”

“Quiet, all of you,” Tempest’s order silenced the inane conversation. “We’re here,” she said, indicating the ruins as they became visible up ahead.

Week 14, Day 2, Afternoon

Tempest smashed another skeleton that had the audacity to try attacking her. “There seems to be an increase—” she obliterated yet another advancing necromantic horror, “—in the number of undead since our last visit here.”

“We’ve gone through more than twice the number of undead this time than we’ve encountered on any previous trip,” replied Twilight as she magically stitched Lyra’s gaping chest-wound closed.

“That means we’re on the right track,” Bon Bon said. “When hunting down a quarry, they throw everything they have at you if they feel cornered.”

“It’s a shame Blueblood—raughhh—can’t use that spell to keep an eye on us anymore,” Lyra said as she returned to pony form. “It was nice knowing we had somepony back at base that could look things up for us or tell us what to take and what to leave.”

“I’m fine without him watching our every move,” Bon Bon said as they started down another hallway. “We’re competent professionals. We know what we’re doing.”

“Yes,” Tempest said. “We are professionals. But it never hurts to have an extra edge; I would gladly trade privacy for a working advantage.”

“I guess,” Bon Bon conceded as she bucked a door open. “But reinforcements would be a whole day away—ewww, do you feel that?” She shivered as she moved to step into the new room.

Everypony in the group felt a sudden chill overtake them. The air had not actually gotten any colder, yet everypony’s hackles had risen.

“They are near,” Tempest said, her eyes narrowing.

Together they burst into the room, expecting another swarm of undead; instead, they were greeted by a slim, lilac-coated unicorn. Her horn curved back in a peculiar fashion, and her turquoise colored mane moved, as if in a nonexistent breeze.

She looked up at them, and they were struck by her beauty.

“Is that her?” Lyra asked, sounding quite unsure.

“Am I who?” The mare asked, in a pleasant voice.

“The necromancer who’s been animating the dead in these crypts,” Tempest boomed. “Are you them?”

“My name is Mistmane,” the unicorn said. “I came to this place—”

“Wait-wait-wait,” Twilight interrupted. “You’re the Mistmane? One of the pillars of old Equestria?”

“I don’t know what your definition of ‘pillar’ means, child, but I am Mistmane.”

“She doesn’t seem like a necromancer,” Lyra said.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Tempest said coldly. “How did you get down here? Why are you here?”

Mistmane watched the group as they fanned out. “In my old home, I sacrificed my beauty and youth to help an old friend of mine, and the toll it took on me was quite severe. My health swiftly degenerated and I was forced to look for methods to prevent my body from failing.”

She smiled. “I found that all things contain some amount of life. Animals, of course, and plants. But what other ponies never realized was that there is life in other things as well: rocks, the earth itself, the air. I figured that if I could find a way to siphon just a small amount of that life energy, that I would be able to restore myself to health and beauty without harming any living creature. Imagine what I could have done with that knowledge, the ability to heal ponies by draining the energy from a rock, or patch of dirt? The lives that could be saved.”

Beginning to pace, Mistmane walked towards a wall which had several bone-filled alcoves. “In my searches, I found it extremely difficult to draw the life force from inanimate objects. As a different medium, things which have never been living have the life energy locked away inside, like how ice holds water within it. I needed to find a way to heat the ice, so to speak. So, I experimented, using the next logical step, objects that had once been alive.”

Mistmane frowned “I was distraught to find that it was far easier to siphon the remaining life force from the dead. But it worked. Unfortunately, I discovered that my newly recovered strength and youth, were only temporary when I used the life energies of the deceased. The effects only lasted for a day or so, if that. Truly, I was frustrated by, and abhorred the fact that the essence of living beings yielded the most stable restoration. Why, a single living pony could provide enough energy to keep me restored for weeks. And that same amount of energy... could animate dozens of undead.”

Tempest dropped into a fighting stance.

“It was then—” Mistmane grinned as a horde of skeletons began to animate behind her. “—that I realized that necromancy was a far superior magical discipline than mere harmony magic. And now—”

Mistmane wasn’t able to finish her sentence, because Tempest had jumped at, landed on, and was now mercilessly pummeling her; her face in particular was receiving a series of loud, cracking blows.

“Please… please… stop!” Mistmane’s voice somehow cried above the crashing of hooves raining down upon her failing flesh.

Tempest did stop for a moment, only to look down on the broken necromancer with utter contempt. “Mercy? You beg for mercy? You must think me a fool. If you are the real Mistmane, then you’ve been alive over a thousand years; in order to keep your beauty and youth this long, you have to have killed more ponies than I’ve known in my entire lifetime.”

“I… can… tell… you… secrets—” Mistmane gasped through her fractured muzzle. “—restore… your… horn—”

Tempest landed a hoof on Mistmane’s face with such force that her skull completely collapsed, spraying blood and grey matter in all directions.

The army of undead immediately collapsed. Mistmane’s body twitched, and something rolled away from it, coming to a rest against Twilight’s hoof.

After pulling a few rolls of parchment from Mistmane’s robes, and removing the rune-inscribed metal collar she wore, Tempest stepped back several hoof lengths and lit her horn. “I’ve already had one idiot who tempted me with that; never again.” From her fractured horn shot an unstable blast of angry teal fire, which struck the corpse and set it ablaze.

“This is some kind of magical artifact,” Twilight said, lifting the stone orb in her magic. “I could have sworn I read about something like this before…”

Week 14, Day 2, Evening

“One out of six,” Starlight said to herself as she unwrapped the crimson-stained bandages from her head. “Generosity has been found, and soon its bearer shall arrive.” She frowned to herself. “This kinda takes the excitement out of life, watching everything play out exactly as I know it’s going to…”

When the bandages fell away, and exposed the black orbs which her eyeballs had become, more blood poured from the sockets.

She sighed. “Good thing I’m supposed to take care of my eyes right now; this blood is getting really annoying.”

She levitated the needle and thread towards her face. “I am so glad Twilight insisted we read that medical procedures book while we were in Whinnyapolis,” she said as she pushed the needle through her upper eyelid.

Starlight hummed a song as she stitched her eyes shut. It kept her mind off of the pain, and off of the knowledge of what she knew she would soon have to do.