Ponest Dungeon

Chapter 14: Serious Side-Effects

Week 15, Day 1, Morning

“What is this?” Nurse Redheart asked, tapping the red gem sitting on the table which stood between them.

“It’s… a Ruby,” Shining answered, an incredulous look on his face.

“Does it belong to you?” Redheart pressed.

He frowned at the obvious question. “No…”

“I see,” Redheart turned away from the table as she spoke. “You shouldn’t have any problems with me looking in this direction, then.”

With beads of sweat beginning to run down his face and neck, Shining looked at the ruby on the table. It shone from the dim lighting of the room, the deep red reflections catching his eye and kindling his desire. Unbidden, his hoof reached towards the gem on the table. When his hoof touched the smooth surface, he hissed and recoiled, as if burned by fire.

“Oh my,” Redheart said in a patronizing tone. She walked around to Shining Armor’s backside, leaning her muzzle close to his ear. “Are we still feeling the urge to take things that don’t belong to us?” Her whisper tickled the fur in and around his ear.

She continued walking until she was completely out of his line of sight. “Take the gem, Shining. It’s not yours, but when has that stopped you in the past?”

Shining groaned in discomfort as he followed Redheart’s command. He knew the outcome of such, but he was powerless against her voice. As his hoof touched the ruby, pain wracked his body. He ground his teeth together as the burning sensation lanced up his foreleg. He continued to follow her instruction, despite the suffering consuming him. Soon his entire body was engulfed by it, and all he could feel were the waves of agony that passed over him as he howled.

Week 15, Day 1, Noon

“As you can see, Prince,” Doctor Horse said from the other side of the one way mirror, “Shining will now be overwhelmed with excruciating pain, should his kleptomania ever attempt to manifest itself.”

“Um—” Blueblood stared in fascinated horror at the scene unfolding on the other side of the silvered glass. “—will he be able to actually pick up valuables that I need him to recover when I send him on expeditions?”

Favoring him with a confused look, Doctor Horse gestured at Redheart and Shining. “Prince, you specifically requested that Shining be cured of his kleptomania; we’ve done just that.”

“Yes,” Blueblood said. “But if you’ve ‘cured’ him by giving him Kleptophobia instead, then you’ve solved no problems at all; just traded one mental disorder for another.”

“There are always side-effects when repairing a damaged mind,” Horse said, making a “tut-tut” motion with a hoof. “And let's be honest, kleptophobia is a manageable side-effect. The real problem, that you thought he could steal from you or others, has been solved!”

“I suppose so,” Blueblood conceded, frowning as he watched Shining collapse into a weeping heap on the floor. “Is he ready to be released? His sister hasn’t seen him in a long time and is eager for his return.”

Doctor Horse nodded. “I don’t see why not; he’s made excellent progress. Before we do, however, I thought you might want to check on the other patient from your company first—”

“Rainbow Dash,” Blueblood confirmed. “How is she?”

“Well, when she was brought in, I would have told you that I didn’t expect her to survive. But now… it might be better if I show you.”

Blueblood followed Doctor Horse as he left the viewing room and headed towards an office. “Why aren’t we heading to the treatment rooms?”

“You’ll see,” Doctor Horse replied. Once they were in the office, Horse closed the door with his magic and started rifling through some folders on a fancy desk that rested near the back wall.

Blueblood took a moment to look around the room, taking in the framed diplomas, bookcases filled with medical texts, and a glass case which contained several unique specimens and pieces of outdated medical equipment.

“Please have a look at these,” Doctor Horse said as he magicked a folder filled with x-rays to Blueblood.

Shuffling through the images, Blueblood cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at Doctor Horse. “What am I looking at?”

“That,” Horse replied, indicating the translucent images, “is the broken bone of a young adult patient, mending over the course of eight weeks. I took one picture per week from their file to show you a time-lapse of their recovery. As you can see, the process is very slow, and the bone is not at even a fraction of full strength until more than three quarters of the way through the healing process—”

“Doctor,” Blueblood said as he put the folder down on the table, “if these aren’t x-rays of Rainbow Dash, then why am I looking at them?”

“Because,” Doctor Horse said, levitating a different folder to Blueblood, “these are the x-rays taken of Rainbow Dash on the day she was brought in.”

Blueblood cringed when he saw the image. “She broke—”

“Every bone in her body, yes,” Horse replied. “The upper body and skull fractures were especially bad. She must have been hovering at roof height; her forward half caught the brunt of the blast.”

As he hoofed through the images, Blueblood raised first one eyebrow and then, as he reached the final image, the other. He looked up at the Doctor with confused eyes. “Okay, her bones have healed, and it took eight weeks. But isn’t that a normal bone-mending time frame?”

Doctor Horse nodded. “It is, but compare the two sets of x-rays.”

“Okay, the first patient healed in eight weeks. I can see minor cracks where their bones were broken, and some minor bulging where the bones knitted together. And in Rainbow’s—” Blueblood’s eyes widened. “How is this even possible?” He shuffled through the pictures again. “There are no signs of previous injury!”

“Yes, it’s quite astonishing, really,” Horse said, frowning. “My theory is that she received some kind of magical infusion, but not from myself or any of my staff. Not to mention that even magical healing of broken limbs leaves some kind of minor scarring of the bones. I’ve cast multiple diagnostic spells but have been unable to track the energies to their source.”

“What kind of magic?” Blueblood suspected that he knew what the answer would be.

“Harmony magic,” Doctor Horse replied.

Blueblood furrowed his brow in thought. “That’s not what I expected.” He noticed the doctor’s puzzled glance. “We just defeated a necromancer, and there are other wild magicks about in this region. I’m relieved to hear that harmony is exerting its influence here.”

“I just wish I knew what was causing it,” Horse said, shaking his head. “The upside is that she’s ready for discharge as well. She won’t even need any physical therapy because whatever happened to her restored her to pre-injury condition.”

“Well,” Blueblood said, nonplussed. “That’s a plus.”

Week 15, Day 1, Afternoon

“Shining!” Twilight almost tackled her brother to the ground as he exited the sanitarium.

“Hey Twily,” he replied, smiling and returning her hug. “How have you been?”

“Oh, y’know,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “going on missions, earning bits, killing monsters and necromancers.”

Shining Armor laughed. “You really know how to downplay your own accomplishments Twily—”

“Shining,” she whined, “I’m not a little filly anymore! Call me Twilight!”

“Sorry, Twily,” Shining replied with a teasing grin. “As your older brother, I invoke the ancient laws of siblingdom, whereby I will exercise my right to call you by the most adorable nickname possible.”

Twilight crossed her forelegs. “There are no such laws! You made that up!”

“Sorry, Twily,” he chuckled. “I am honorbound by the knight’s code to uphold the ancient laws and—”

“Ugh!” Twilight groaned and pulled on her face with her hooves. “Fine! But only you get to call me that, BBBFF!”

“Hay guys!”

Twilight turned to see Rainbow Dash and Blueblood exiting the sanitarium. Blueblood was hovering an accounting ledger and frowning intensely, while Rainbow seemed to be in pretty high spirits.

“Dash! You’re okay!” Shining pushed past Blueblood and tightly embraced Rainbow.

“Shining,” Rainbow gasped. “You’re crushing me.”

“She just healed all of her fractured bones,” Blueblood said with a stone of mild exasperation. “Please don’t break her again, at least not until our finances are no longer in arrears.”

Shining let up slightly but maintained the embrace, causing Rainbow’s face to redden slightly.

“You can… uh… let go of me anytime,” Rainbow said.

Finally releasing Rainbow, Shining turned to walk with the others. “Sorry Dash, just glad to see you’re okay after hearing what the doctors were saying.”

Dash beat a hoof against her chest. “No stupid comet shockwave is gonna keep this mare down!”

Twilight frowned. “They told us you broke—”

“Every bone in my body!” Rainbow cut in proudly. “I even broke some more than once!”

“They haven’t ruled out brain damage,” Blueblood stated flatly, earning a dirty look from Rainbow and chuckles from Twilight and Shining.

“That’s not funny,” Rainbow said, crossing her forehooves as she hovered besides the others.

Blueblood grinned. “Good to have you back, Dash. Twilight, would you mind helping me get these two up to date on what’s been happening?”

“I’d love to,” Twilight said with a smile.

Week 15, Day 3, Afternoon

Shining spun around, bisecting the head of one of the bandits, sending her to the ground and the top of her mane and both ears flying into the face of another bandit.

The stallion, who received the bloody lump of flesh, bone, and gray matter to the face, shrieked in dismay, wailing like a filly until Rainbow buried a dagger into his skull.

“I never thought that I would ever hear myself say this,” Shining said as his sword blocked a desperate overhead chop by another stallion who was probably lamenting his poorly-chosen life in banditry. “Because I’ve never been a fan of killing—” He spun himself and the swords so that he could see Rainbow behind the bandit. “—but I sure did miss this.”

“I know what you mean,” Rainbow said as she put her pistol up to the bandit’s head and pulled the trigger. She put a hoof up to keep the majority of the gore from splattering onto her face. She looked around at the dozen or so dead bandits—including the remains of the huge one that “Sharktavia” was devouring with extreme prejudice—and holstered her weapons. “I was going stir crazy in that sanitarium. But… for a little bit just now, I was worried I was going to get dropped again.”

Shining frowned. “Don’t jinx it, Dash. That’s how you kept getting nailed in the first place, all the showboating and tempting fate.”

“Well,” Rainbow retorted sharply, “I’m fine now. Apparently all it took was being blown up by a comet to get my groove back—”

“Did I hear you say you want to groove?!” Vinyl came to a sliding halt next to Rainbow with her dubiously-portable sound-cannon.

Rainbow blanched. “Naw, I’m good, really—”

It was too late.

“AWWWW—” Vinyl swiftly removed her shades, revealing a glimpse of two ruby-red irises, before putting her shades back on in a manner reminiscent of Mareami police detectives. “—YEEEEEAAAAAAH!!!”

Miles away, back in the townhouse drawing room, Blueblood raised an eyebrow as his wine glass rattled, in rhythm, on the table.

Week 16, Day 2, Morning

Looking at the pile of correspondence that lay stacked in front of him, Blueblood sighed as he levitated each envelope in turn, using a small knife to cut open each letter so he could read it.

“Well,” he said as he perused one letter. “It seems the Hoofields and McColts are honoring the crests we’ve sent them. We’ll have enough produce coming in that we should be able to support more ponies than we’re currently housing.”

“Well, that’s good news,” Twilight said flatly. “We were about to start rationing the food; feeding a dozen ponies was beginning to strain our current supplies.”

Rainbow crossed her forehooves. “Don’t act relieved that we aren’t going to starve there, egghead; not all of us sit around for a living and actually need the energy.”

“Says the mare who has been bedridden for the last eight weeks,” teased Shining.

“How in Equestria did you ponies accomplish anything before I showed up?” Tempest asked in a voice that expressed extreme exasperation.

Blueblood only heard half of what was being said. He froze when he saw the next letter floating in his magic. All of the other envelopes fell to the drawing room table as he stared at the wax seal upon it.

It was three crowns; Fancy Pants’ personal mark.

Instead of cutting the seal in half, as he had done for the other letters, Blueblood carefully pried at the wax until it came undone from the parchment, and opened the letter. While he looked concerned as he started, a smile came to his face the further he read.

Dear Prince Blueblood,

I hope that this letter finds you well. Things are progressing in Canterlot, slightly better than we had first anticipated.

The exodus of unicorns from the city was not as drastic as we had predicted, mostly due to a proactive publicity campaign devised by Countess Coloratura. Due to her swift thinking, as well as Soarin’s skills with logistical planning, we have turned this catastrophe around into something that is at least manageable.

With the comet now gone from the skies, the public has also calmed somewhat, although the entire Canterlot Astrological Society has been effectively wiped out; you will not be able to expect any aid from us regarding your inquiries into the comet’s origins, or anything else astrology related, for that matter. This incident has probably set us back decades, if not more, on our progress with astrological researches.

On a positive note, since the rioting has calmed down, I will be able to send ponies to assist you in your efforts. I’ve hoof-selected the most talented from the royal guard; all are recent, top-of-their-class graduates from Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns. They will also be bringing some funds that I was able to liberate from the crown’s coffers before we put a strict lockdown on spending. I hope it is enough to keep your expedition going strong.

With business now out of the way, I shall respond to your personal inquiries, Blue. Firstly, Fleur is doing well and sends well wishes to you. She is mildly perturbed that you didn’t say goodbye to her before you left, but she expects you to make it up to her upon your return. I’d personally recommend a bottle of Celestia’s Reserve summer wine; you know it’s her favorite.

As for myself, I’m finding my new position challenging, but not overwhelming. I’d like to think that my performance thus far has substantiated your confidence in me. I’ve had to give up a good deal of the socializing I used to partake in; being a leader in a state of emergency means that free time is a luxury I cannot afford. Still, I’ve managed a few events, and have started planning this year’s Grand Galloping Gala. I don’t know if you would be able to make it, but if you could, there are many who would be delighted.

Wishing for your swift and safe return,

Lord Fancy Pants

“It’s a good thing we set up that supply chain,” Blueblood said. “We’re going to have some company in the next few days.”

The others looked at him expectantly.

Tempest raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”

Blueblood couldn’t keep the giddy smile from his face. “Let me tell you all about it.”

Week 16, Day 3, Afternoon

Snails yelped as the ghoul descended upon him, charging past all of his companions. He failed to evade in time, and claws raked his foreleg, slicing all the way to the bone.

Applejack bucked the ghoul in the head, staggering it so that Winona could drag it to the ground and worry it to pieces. “Why do you reckon there’s still bushell-loads of undead after we killed that there necromancer thing?”

“Well,” Twilight said, lighting her horn and painfully stitching Snails’ right foreleg back together, “we don’t know how long Mistmane was operating in the catacombs before we defeated her.” She unleashed a hail of tentacles that struck the skeletal defender and courtier, obliterating the latter. “Who knows how many things she animated in that time. Blueblood even said that Celestia knew about her presence, which means she’d been operating for at least four months, and probably much longer than that.”

“Boy howdy,” Applejack said. “I’m not sure I like the implications there.”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac said as he bucked the skeletal defender into powder.

Winona growled as she tore out the staggered ghoul’s spine.

“The important thing,” Twilight said, “is that Mistmane can’t make any more. We’ll only face dwindling numbers from now on.”

“Then why,” Applejack drawled, “do more powerful types, like this here ghoul-thingie, keep showing up?”

Looking over at Applejack, Twilight frowned. “With Mistmane’s death—well, permanent death—her reservoir of necromantic energy is seeping into the surrounding—” she lit her horn and closed her eyes for a few moments. Then she opened them widely. “Oh, no.”

“Twilight?” Snails tilted his head. “Something's wrong, eh?”

Twilight nodded. “Mistmane was brimming with necromantic energy when we defeated her.” She swallowed. “I just checked; the amount of local necromantic energy isn’t dissipating like I thought it would. It’s just saturating the area further, and now seems to be growing. Mistmane kept the undead controlled and in one area; killing her may have actually made the situation worse.”

Week 16, Day 5, Morning

“It says here, that your name is… Plainity?” Blueblood looked up from the resumé at the peculiarly dressed unicorn standing in front of him. Pink leather vest over a yellow ruffled shirt? Who in Tartarus taught this mare about color coordination?

“Absolutely, darling, I am Plainity.”

“Do I… know you?” Blueblood squinted at the mare.

She waved a hoof dismissively. “I don’t see how you could, Prince; we’ve never met.”

“I don’t know; there’s something familiar—” Blueblood’s eyes widened, “wait… I do know you!”

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” The white unicorn mare put on a shaky smile and forced a chuckle.

Blueblood stood from his seat and glowered at the mare. His horn lit and the mare’s blue hat was yanked from her head, causing her violet mane to spill across her neck. “I knew it; Plainity isn’t your real name, is it?”

Tempest cracked her neck and tensed, obviously waiting for Blueblood’s word to pounce on the mare and beat her senseless, or to death. The others followed suit and stood, Shining unclipping the top of his sword sheath, Twilight lighting her horn, and Rainbow drawing her pistol.

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” the mare said as she slowly backed towards the double doors of the drawing room.

“Oh no,” Blueblood insisted. “I was there; I saw you, Diva, at the young talented flier competition.” He exhaled loudly through his nose, sputtering somewhat. “You killed two Wonderbolts that day, and crippled another, a good friend of mine.”

As the mare turned to run from the room, Blueblood lit his horn and slammed the drawing room doors shut. When she turned back to face him, he sneered. “Lady… Rarity, I believe?”

Her eyes filled with resolve. “Yes, I was… that is, to say… I am Rarity,” she admitted.

Blueblood leaned forward on the table. “Where do I even begin, Miss Rarity? Your crimes warrant death; killing two members of the Wonderbolts, crippling a third.” He paused, the aptitudes the mare would require to accomplish such feats flying through his head. “But… the fact remains that you were able to dispatch three of the Equestrian military’s finest fighters. Despite my own abhorrence over your actions, I cannot deny that such skills would have… value in our current endeavors—”

“WHAT?!” Rainbow Dash jumped to a standing position, slamming her forehooves down on the table. “You can’t be serious, Blueblood!”

“I’m deadly serious, Dash—”

“She murdered Wonderbolts!” Rainbow cut Blueblood off again. “She deserves—”

Tempest dropped a hoof to the floor, the resounding impact silencing the entire room. “Do not interrupt the Prince again, Miss Dash, or I will forcibly remove you from this meeting.” Her eyes bulged in their sockets, the force of her gaze driving Rainbow Dash back into her seat.

“Dash,” Blueblood looked away from the towering terror that was Tempest, back towards Rainbow. “I haven’t hired her yet. If her explanations do not satisfy me, she will perish, right here, right now.”

Blueblood turned back to Rarity, who had begun to sweat profusely. “How about we start with some things that have been vexing me here: how in Tartarus did you survive? There was a body… so whose remains did I bring to your parents? Soarin has been paying your family a stipend every year… have you been taking advantage of one of the kindest stallions I know?”

Rarity flinched as each question was asked, but didn’t have enough time to answer as Blueblood bombarded her. When he had finally paused to take a breath, she held up a hoof. “It was never my intention to hurt anypony.”

“Hard to believe,” Blueblood said, trying to keep the red from his face and the sudden squirming in his foreleg under control. “So you’d best make your case now. And make it good; your life depends on it.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rarity steadied herself and looked Blueblood in the eyes. “I was trying to fake my own death. I won’t bore you with my motives; suffice it to say I needed to disappear.”

Blueblood’s eyes narrowed. “You killed three ponies to escape your old life?”

“No,” Rarity said. “Not three, exactly; the mare who you buried was a cadaver I… ah… liberated from the Canterlot morgue. Her chart said that she had no family that wished to claim her body… so I claimed it. I cast a small preservation spell on the corpse and hurled it from the stands the night before the talented flier competition was set to begin, figuring nopony would look on the ground until after my… dramatic fall. My plan was to hurl myself from the stands, and then teleport to safety just before hitting the ground.” Some red worked its way into her muzzle. “Unfortunately, on my jump, I tripped; the clouds turned out to be stickier than I’d imagined, you see. Instead of a controlled fall, I was spiraling out of control and couldn’t straighten myself into a dive, which allowed the Wonderbolts time to react and even to catch up to me.”

Blueblood bared his teeth. “But you attacked them—”

Rarity shook her head. “Not at all—at least, not on purpose. I was flailing every-which-way to try and stabilize my fall enough so that I could choose a clear spot and concentrate to teleport there.” She shook her head solemnly. “Before I even knew what was happening, three of my hooves felt like they were on fire, and I saw three pegasi hurtling away from me at high speed. Their impacts stabilized me enough that I was able to perform the spell mere moments before impact.”

A look of despondency had set itself into Rarity’s features. “I hadn’t planned on any deaths, you see. Once I realized what I had done, I realized that my new life wasn’t worth the cost. But they’d already discovered my… ‘body’ and I realized I couldn’t go back to my old life either. I had to seek out the Canterlot mafia to see if they could help with my situation. Don Giovaneigh was able to create a new identity for me. But, without any capital of my own, this left me indebted to him. I had to pay my debt by working for him, doing many… unsavory things. Once I had paid my debts, I started sending all of my earnings to that charity that Soarin started after he recovered.”

Blueblood’s eyebrows rose in sudden recognition. “You’re that Plainity?”

Rarity nodded.

“You’re the largest donor to the charity aside from myself,” Blueblood said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “How can you possibly afford to send as much as you do?”

“Well,” Rarity said, “not to put too fine a point on it: working for Don Giovaneigh paid exceptionally well, mostly because of all of the grave robbing he assigned to me.”

Blueblood’s eyes narrowed. “You steal from the dead?”

“Of course, Darling,” Rarity said. Her own expression turned incredulous as she saw his. “Would you rather I stole from the living?”

Shaking his head, Blueblood scoffed. “Of course not. But—”

“Come now, Prince,” Rarity said, “Surely you don’t believe that the dead need the wealth that has been buried with them?”

Blueblood frowned. “It’s indecent—”

“Yes, Darling it is,” Rarity cut him off. “But it’s impractical to bury riches with a corpse who will never have a use for it.”

“We have been recovering low amounts of wealth from our expeditions,” Tempest said. “If you allow us to expand our acquisition targets to include the coffins and sarcophagi, we might actually start seeing some sustainability out of this venture.”

Blueblood steepled his hooves. “Hrmmm… I’ll think on it. But first, Miss Rarity?”

“Yes, Prince?”

“You are hired; anypony who can inadvertently take out three Wonderbolts and survive a fall from cloud height without wings is a dangerous pony indeed. I would be a fool not to hire you.”

Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you Prince—”

“Don’t thank me,” Blueblood narrowed his eyes and pointed a hoof at Rarity. “And don’t make me regret it either.”

Week 16, Day 5, Noon

“Hey, Rarity!”

Rarity turned to see Rainbow Dash flying up to her in the mansion hallway. “Yes, Miss… Dash, was it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rainbow waved a hoof dismissively. “Is it true; you’re the one who caused the Young Flier disaster?”

Sighing, Rarity looked up at Rainbow. “Unfortunately yes, it’s—”

Rainbow hoof-slapped Rarity across the face, almost knocking her to the floor with the force of the impact.

“You killed two of my idols that day,” Rainbow said through gritted teeth. “And you crippled another. I don’t care what Blueblood says about us needing your ‘talent.’ You’d better watch your back, cause I don’t know when I’m going to decide to put ‘ole Stabby here in it.”

Rarity’s hoof went from holding her cheek to covering her mouth. She stifled a titter.

Her brows furrowing in anger, Rainbow glared at Rarity. “You think that’s funny?”

“No… Darling…” Rarity failed to prevent a few snorts from working their way through her muzzle. “It’s just… you named your knife… and you named it… ‘Stabby?’” She snorted again.

One of Rainbow’s eyes started twitching uncontrollably. “That’s… that’s not funny!”

Rarity burst out laughing.

Rainbow scrunched her face as it discolored to a deep shade of crimson. “Stop laughing!”

“Please,” Rarity’s voice was completely mocking in tone, “don’t stab me with—” She snorted. “—Mr. Stabby!” She fell against the wall and started pounding a hoof on it.

Red having blurred out the rest of her vision, Rainbow raised her dagger and swung it at Rarity’s back.

A black-armored hoof caught Rainbow’s foreleg before her dagger could end Rarity’s life. Tempest stood there, towering over both ponies. “Rainbow Dash,” she said with a voice that was felt as much as it was heard. “Blueblood will be most displeased if you kill a member of his company.”

“But I—”

Rainbow stopped talking when Tempest shoved her muzzle into Rainbow’s face and hit the pegasus with her trademark bowel-loosening glare. “You instigated this, Miss Dash. I am ending it. NOW.” She intensified her stare. “And if you later kill Miss Rarity, be aware that I will find out, then I will find you, then I will remove your ability to disappoint me in the future.”

Rainbow might have peed a little.

Tempest turned her withering gaze upon Rarity, pinning her to the wall with it. “You have the privilege of the Prince’s protection only so long as you remain a member of this company. Don’t go antagonizing anypony else. If the Prince decides you are more trouble than you’re worth, he will cut you loose. I wouldn’t bet on your chances of survival if that happens.”

Looming over the two ponies, Tempest pierced both with a look that could curdle fresh milk. “Do I make myself clear?”

Rainbow and Rarity both nodded their heads in affirmation.

“Good,” Tempest boomed. “Now, disperse.”

The two ponies swiftly made themselves scarce as Blueblood exited the drawing room.

Week 16, Day 5, Afternoon

“You’re having trouble with your foreleg again.” Tempest faced straight ahead as she and Blueblood walked through the halls.

“You saw it acting up during the meeting, I assume?” Blueblood asked.

“Yes,” Tempest replied. “When you were interrogating that mare; it looked like it was ready to rip out of your skin and fly across the table at her. Thankfully, everypony else was too focused on her story to notice.”

“You noticed,” Blueblood stressed.

“I notice many things,” Tempest said. “But most of the other ponies in your employ seem to have the situational awareness of a turnip.”

Stifling a snort, Blueblood turned to look at Tempest. “Was that a joke I just heard from you?”

“I’m sorry,” Tempest stopped and turned her head to face him. “I don’t have a sense of humor that I’m aware of.” She turned forward and they both resumed walking. “It’s getting worse then.”

“No,” Blueblood said, looking down at the offending limb. “But it isn’t getting any better either.”

Tempest started up the observatory stairs. “Miss Glimmer might have some insight into it. She’s been spouting predictions and… questionable tidbits of wisdom ever since she lost her vision.”

Blueblood shook his head. “My foreleg can wait; we have more important things to look into, like that stone orb you recovered.”

“Miss Sparkle insists that she has seen it somewhere before, but is unable to recall where.” Tempest turned an eye to Blueblood. “Miss Sparkle has a very poor memory, which is why I believe she relies so much on notes and organization. Miss Glimmer, on the other hoof—”

Stifling a laugh, Blueblood stopped his ascent, prompting Tempest to do so as well. “You really want me to go see Starlight, don’t you?”

Tempest looked back at him over her withers. “If you fall victim to your mysterious ailment, the company would be left in a shaky position.”

Blueblood smirked. “Glad to know you care about me, Tempest.”

“I don’t,” Tempest replied. “I care about not having to look for new work because another of my employers got themselves killed.” She turned and walked up the stairs again. “I really don’t need to have two dead bosses in a row on my resumé.”

His smile fading to a deep frown, Blueblood followed Tempest up the stairs. “Good to know you have my best interests in mind, at least.”

Week 16, Day 5, Dusk

“Fascinating.” Twilight was transfixed, tentatively tapping a forehoof against the wooden fragments she held aloft in her telekinesis.

“Well?” One of Blueblood’s hind hooves was tapping an impatient staccato against the observatory floor.

Looking over to Blueblood with a nonplussed expression, Twilight tilted her head to the side. “Well what?”

Sighing, Blueblood facehoofed. “I already told you this. I brought you up here to inspect the table wreckage and see if you can use it and the observation spell scroll to reverse engineer the spell itself and replicate it without risking it being hijacked by some eldritch abomination.” He took a deep breath. “That’s why I gave you access to all of Celestia’s notes on the spell and the table… weeks ago.”

Twilight somehow managed to tilt her head even further. “Wait, did you do any research into this spell before you started using it?”

“No,” Blueblood replied. “I only read Celestia’s notes on executing the spell with the table she had prepared.”

Looking shocked, Twilight rubbed a forehoof into her forehead. “You just cast a spell without testing it, or looking at its makeup to see exactly what it was you were doing?” Her question was laced with incredulity. “All this time I thought you knew exactly what the viewing window was!”

“Well, I didn’t,” Blueblood responded. “I had no reason to suspect Celestia or her motives at the time. Why would I question what appeared to be a simple application of harmony magic?”

“Well, if you had looked into the spell,” Twilight gesticulated wildly with a forehoof as she spoke, “and Celestia’s notes on preparing it, you would already know that what you want is impossible.”

“Impossible?” Blueblood said in clear disbelief.

“Yes,” Twilight replied. “Impossible. The spell on the scroll is only, like you said, a burst of harmony magic.”

“Then why—”

“Because,” Twilight cut Blueblood off, “the viewing window is not a spell at all.”

Furrowing his brow, Blueblood continued to stare at Twilight. “Then what in Tartarus is it?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Twilight said as she scrunched her snout. “The technical version would take far too long, so I’ll give you the laypony terms.”

She cleared her throat. “The viewing window is actually a creature of eldritch origins.”

“What—”

“Let me explain before you go asking anything,” Twilight said. “Firstly, this creature isn’t like any from this world; it is essentially a blob of psychically moldable protoplasm which is able to take on any shape or properties its summoner desires. The one Celestia had bound to this table was made to violate this world’s laws of physics. The creature itself acted as a gateway, with two openings that are not physically connected. Think of it like a tunnel. The creature’s visual senses and aural senses are located on the one side. Light and sound go in, and are expelled out the other.”

Twilight indicated the splintered table. “The receiving end needs to be anchored to something permanent, or you would have to go through an arduous summoning, binding, and forming ritual every time you wanted to use the window. Once the creature is bound, the spell on Celestia’s scroll can be used. The first part of the spell is a burst of harmony magic which causes extreme pain to the creature, awakening it and forcing it to reflexively open the receiving end, as well as forcing it to tether the sensory end to living individuals of your choosing.”

Now pacing, Twilight continued her explanation; “The second part, opening or closing the viewing window, is essentially the same, You blast the creature with more harmony magic, causing pain so it reflexively opens or closes the viewing aperture. This is also why it takes a few minutes for the creature to be able to transmit from the receiving side to the sensory side; the harmony magic essentially causes the side struck to be paralyzed for that amount of time.”

Looking at Blueblood’s puzzled expression, Twilight sighed. “Those are the basics. Now you can ask your questions.”

“So,” Blueblood began, “if we want to use the viewing window again, we need to… summon another of these things?”

“Unless you just-so-happen to have one laying around,” Twilight said with a smug grin, “then yes.”

Blueblood flitted his eyes back and forth for several moments before turning back to Twilight, a manic look consuming his expression. “Does it need to be alive?”

Twilight’s grin vanished.

Week 16, Day 6, Evening

When Blueblood arrived in the manor’s basement later in the evening, he found Twilight staring at a stone sarcophagus, as she apparently had been for some time. Having given her directions to a specific spot in the estates cellars, he’d also told her to meet him there after their chat in the observatory. He had been delayed trying to find something for Tempest to do so she wouldn’t follow them down.

Ignoring the squirming under the skin of his foreleg, Blueblood cleared his throat. “Are you going to open it?”

Not looking at him, Twilight took a tentative step towards the rune-covered, hermetically sealed coffin. “You really have one of these things you say have been attacking you?”

“Yes,” Blueblood replied. “I burned them all, except for this one; I… just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” He furrowed his brows. “Have you just been standing there this whole time? Honestly, with the level of curiosity I’ve seen out of you, I’m surprised you didn't try to open it before I arrived.”

“Where did you even get this?” Twilight asked, gesturing at the container.

Blueblood frowned. “According to Celestia’s records, this was actually to be my coffin once she’d outlived me. I know she loved to plan ahead,” he said glumly.

Her gaze shifting away from Blueblood again, Twilight took another step. “What about these runes? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Blueblood tilted his head. “You’ve never seen them before?”

“Never,” Twilight said as she approached the coffin. “What does it look like?”

“I don’t know.”

His answer caused Twilight to turn around and face him. “You don’t know what you put in there?”

Blueblood pointed a forehoof at Twilight. “You said it yourself; it’s able to change shape. Even if it was shaped a certain way when it went in, it may have reverted back to flesh-goop, or become something else by now; it could even have taken the shape of... another pony.”

“Well then,” Twilight said as she placed her hooves on the stone lid, “I guess we’re going to find out.” She looked back at Blueblood. “I’m able to defend myself if it’s hostile, but what about you?”

Keeping his eyes fixed on Twilight’s unlit horn, Blueblood crossed his forehooves. “These things don’t scare me anymore. Not since I figured out how to ward against them.”

Twilight’s eyes had widened significantly at Blueblood’s statement. She quickly turned back to the sarcophagus and heaved her weight against the slab of stone which sat atop it. With a grunt of effort, she pushed the heavy lid so that it rotated to the side and exposed the coffin’s interior. She slowly approached and peered over the stone lip of the container, her flank facing towards Blueblood. She made a sudden choked sound, apparently gasping at what she saw.

“What is it?” Blueblood asked as Twilight jerked backwards, pale and shaky.

She stepped away from the sarcophagus, a look of horror upon her face.

“How—how is it—” Twilight stammered. She backed away further, her trembling increasing.

“How is it what?” Blueblood asked, not moving from where he stood.

Twilight shook her head. “I’ll never forget that face, Blueblood. Never.”

Blueblood remained where he was. “Amethyst?” he said in a questioning tone.

Continuing to shake her head, Twilight turned to face him. “No, it’s—”

“Twilight,” Blueblood said, “I know.”

“What?” Twilight’s face turned to one of confusion.

“When Amethyst died,” Blueblood said, “one of the protoplasmic creatures came to me, taking her form. It was scared of returning to whence it came, and by the end of our encounter, I knew that she had obtained sapience, something no other of her kind had previously achieved. I drove a knife through her skull to kill her, but the act hurt me greatly. It made me realize I couldn’t just destroy her body for all time.”

He slowly approached Twilight. “When the party returned, and I learned of Twilight’s skills in the eldritch arts—”

“Why are you talking about me like I’m not here?” Twilight demanded.

“—I took one of her own books… and used the eldritch runes I found within to seal Amethyst within the sarcophagus.”

The look on Twilight’s face was similar to what one might expect upon catching a foal with their hoof in the cookie jar.

Blueblood was almost upon her. “So I’ll say again: Amethyst, I know Twilight is in the sarcophagus. My only question for you: is she still alive?”

He leaned his head over the rim, revealing that Twilight was, indeed laying in the sarcophagus, unconscious. He noticed the barely perceptible rise and fall of her barrel; she was breathing. He turned his head, looking to the mare standing next to him—

It was no longer Twilight.

His expression lacking any form of surprise, Blueblood addressed the Amethyst-copy; “I’ll assume Twilight here—”

“Stumbled upon my resting place not too long ago, I think.” Amethyst winced. “I’d forgotten I wasn’t her; I’d forgotten I was me. Tartarus, I wasn’t even pony shaped when I struck out at her. When I took her shape, I was able to think again, but I soon forgot. I… don’t know why I was acting irrationally, trying to hide what I’d done. It’s a good thing you came so quickly, or she might have suffocated in there. Then I just decided—I don’t know why—to wait for you.”

“To attack me, then?” Blueblood asked.

“Well,” Amethyst said, gritting her teeth, “I do remember you promising to kill me—”

“No,” Blueblood pointed a hoof at Amethyst as he spoke. “I promised to keep you from going back. After I ‘killed’ you—however crazy that sounds—I realized that I couldn’t go through with disposing of your remains. You were dead, you weren’t going back—but you’re not dead—do you still feel the pull to return?”

Amethyst closed her eyes, remaining silent for several moments. “No,” she said as she opened her eyes. “I don’t understand. Did it relinquish Its control once It believed I was… terminated?” She stared at him silently for several moments. “Why?” She suddenly asked.

“Why did It?” Blueblood asked. “You give me too much credit if you think I know anything about Its desires.”

“No,” Amethyst replied. “You. Why did you really keep me?”

“I—” Blueblood’s face flushed furiously and he turned away. “I…”

Her hoof reached under his chin and gripped one of his reddened cheeks, turning it to face her. He was painted with a mixture of embarrassment and shock.

“You… you shouldn’t be able to touch me,” Blueblood said. “I’ve… warded myself.” His hoof drew out a pendant, on which he had etched a curved-line pentagram with a flaming eye inside the central pentagon, all in accordance with instructions he’d found in the same book as the runes he placed on the sarcophagus. He pressed the medallion to Amethyst’s chest, but there was no reaction. “Gloomy Gus’ flesh copy recoiled at the mere sight of this. He fled right into my fireplace with when I showed it to him.”

“My guess,” Amethyst mused, “is that it only works on those under the sway of eldritch forces. I am my own mare now—thanks to you.” She poked a hoof to the medallion on Blueblood’s chest. “But I won’t let you dodge my question. Now tell me; why?”

Blueblood sighed. “You’ve seen me at my lowest,” he said quietly. “You’ve seen me at my most vulnerable. And in those few moments we shared—as wrong and screwed up as it was—you gave me a more meaningful relationship than any I’ve ever had.” He pulled his head away again. “I couldn’t just condemn you to the darkness, even if I thought you were dead.”

“You—” Amethyst paused, an incredulous look upon her features. “So, what; you’re in love with me?”

Turning back to face what he knew was no more than an eldritch spawned abomination, his face became a twitching rictus of conflicting emotions as he weighed the possible answers. He knew that there were only two from which he could choose. The Amethyst-copy that stood before him was nothing more than a blob of errant flesh, given form and thought by his own sick and twisted desires.

Blueblood realized that he didn’t care. “Yes.”

The silence which followed was deafening.

And then Amethyst began to laugh. At first it was only a stifled chuckle, but it soon devolved into a fit of guffaws, which prompted Blueblood to blanch.

As mortification overtook his features, he found that he could only stutter, “Wh-Why are you—”

“How could I possibly love you?” she hissed in his face. “You tried to rape me! Did you forget that?! And then you didn’t even have the decency to follow up on your promise and end my miserable existence!” Her eyes glared daggers into his. “I have more reason to hate and despise you than any other creature on this pathetic world, including… It.”

“But I—”

“You what?!” she yelled into his face, keeping pace with him as he attempted to back away from her. “You think that suddenly deciding not to rape me redeems you after the fact that you were going to do it in the first place? You somehow thought that I wouldn’t think that the depraved act of you keeping my corpse in a sealed stone box isn’t the creepiest thing that I’ve ever heard? I was created by your thoughts, and even I think that’s just—”

Blueblood had finally collided his flank into one of the stone walls. His face was shaded completely red with embarrassment from the verbal beratement. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to consider what would happen if she actually decided to attack him while he was defenseless like this. All he could do was sweat and hope that he could weather the verbal onslaught she was unleashing upon him.

“What you did—” Amethyst exhaled hot breath upon Blueblood’s face, “—what you’ve done—” her voice became husky “—is unforgivable. It’s—” it dropped to the level of a breathy whisper, “despicable.”

And her lips met his.

Blueblood’s eyes widened in shock as Amethyst reached a foreleg behind his head and pulled him into the kiss. He flailed his own forelegs in confusion for a moment before settling one behind her head, and the other down on her withers. He was wholly unprepared for the ferocity of her lips pressing against his, the feeling of breath exiting her nostrils and warming his muzzle. His confusion slowly melted away and his eyes began to flutter closed as he luxuriated in the pleasure of their passionate embrace. The entire experience was dizzying, especially once his oxygen began to run out.

When she pulled away, Blueblood struggled to gasp for breath. “I uh,” he stammered. “I think I’m getting some mixed signals here.”

“Then I’ll make it simple for you,” Amethyst growled as her glare took on a hungry, predatory aspect. “Rut me.”

“Um,” Blueblood said as his gaze was drawn to the sarcophagus, “The flesh is willing,” he said indicating his stimulated lower half. “But… ah… Twilight’s still over there—”

“Shut up and rut me, you fool.”