Chapters A dark place, somewhere...
Sunset Shimmer awoke on a cold stone floor. Everything ached like she had been twisted inside out, and what she could see in the near darkness seemed fractured, as if she were looking through a broken mirror.
Groaning, Sunset pushed herself into a sitting position. It was difficult, as her legs seemed unable to move in the way she expected, and a light weight seemed to hang from her back. In an effort to clear her vision, Sunset raised a claw to wipe at her eyes.
A claw....
Sunset stared at the limb, unsure if it was truly attached to her. She tried to wave her hoof, the claw waved instead. With growing dread she twisted herself to examine her back.
She had wings, not feathered like a pegasus, or even batlike thestral wings. These wings were thin and lacey, and covered in a fine layer of dust.
Instead of her horn, a pair of feathery antennae hung from her head. Her body was coated in a hairlike fuzz, and her eyes? Compound, if the fractured mess she was seeing was any indication. Taken together, it all pointed to one horrifying conclusion.
“I’m a MOTH!?”
Horror quickly turned to rage. That magic mirror, Sunset had seen everything she desired in its glass, but this? A bug was as far from an alicorn as one could be! The temperature around Sunset sharply spiked along with her fury. With a wordless scream, the air itself burst into golden flames.
Startled by the unexpected inferno, Sunset attempted to jump away, only succeeding in flailing about in a tangle of unfamiliar limbs. Just as quickly as they appeared, the flames vanished.
“Did... did I just do that?”
Sunset took a moment to calm herself. Slowly, deliberately, she pushed herself into a standing position that felt natural to her new body. Idly, she thought about how moths weren’t supposed to stand on their hind legs, but quickly quashed that thought when she nearly fell forward. Filing that distraction away alongside hoofgrip and rock farmers, Sunset refocused her thoughts.
Because it felt right, Sunset raised a claw. Focusing as she would do to cast a spell with her horn, she willed the air before her to ignite. Her effort was rewarded with a small spark of flame dancing to life in her claw. Sunset’s glee was tangible. “Take that you stupid mirror,” she taunted, “I, Sunset Shimmer, still have magic!”
The soft glow of Sunset’s flame also served to better illuminate her surroundings. Notably, the numerous, deathly still forms that also occupied the room.
Sunset nearly dropped her flame when she saw she wasn’t alone, but then she realized that nothing was moving but shadows.
Dozens of giant (or perhaps she was simply small) beetles lay scattered around her, lifeless and hollow. Sunset nudged one with her unlit claw, only to shriek in disgust when the head and body rolled away from each other.
... bells ring ... ... no more ...
The ghostly voice echoed in the back of Sunset’s mind, sending a shudder down her back. That wasn’t her own thoughts just now.
"What happened here?” Sunset pondered.
Her surroundings showed signs of having been constructed rather than formed naturally, stonework and broken glass indicating some presence of civilization, but the layer of dust over everything told that this place had been abandoned for a long time.
At the far end of the room, what looked to be some form of underground train station drew Sunset’s attention. Walking over to take a closer look, she noticed a lack of any rails. Instead, there was simply a dirt floor, pounded down by hundreds of beetle footprints. A broken post stood forlornly on the station’s platform, a dented bell on the floor suggesting it once hung there.
Curious, Sunset picked up the bell and gave it an experimental shake. Despite its worn state, it rang clearly. The bell’s pleasant tone echoed down the tunnels in sharp contrast with the gloom.
Sunset pondered this arrangement. Perhaps whatever once lived here could have rang the bell to call for a beetle to ride?
Sunset was drawn from her thoughts when she noticed a new sound coming from the tunnels. Something large was approaching the station, and from the deep growls it was making, it did not appear to be anything Sunset wanted to meet.
Dropping the bell, Sunset ran as fast as she could away from the station. Passing trough the husk filled room, she soon found herself at the bottom of a large shaft. The floor shifted beneath her, and she stumbled. She had apparently ran onto a metal platform connected to chains that stretched up into the shaft.
Sunset could still hear the creature somewhere behind her, but growing closer.
“Come on Sunset, this isn’t a dead end,” she reassured herself. She began to quickly scan the room. “This platform has to be some sort of lift, pressure activated and I’m too light, which must mean there’s - There!”
Sunset leapt at what she had seen, a smaller lift, one just her size. Her new wings gave an involuntary flutter, nearly causing her to overshoot her jump. She crashed onto the smaller lift, which briefly shifted down with a satisfying clank, before rising up the shaft pulled by it’s chains, taking Sunset away from... whatever was chasing her.
The lift came to a stop at a hall that extended from the top of the shaft. Sunset quickly jumped for solid ground and made her way down the hall. Following the sound of wind, she soon found herself standing on a cliffside balcony.
The mountains that surrounded her seemed to be formed from an uncountable number of stone shells, fossilized or carved, Sunset couldn’t tell. She peered over the edge. The drop to the valley below looked deep, but not so far that she couldn’t see the bottom. A crumbling road twisted its way up the far end of the valley and out of sight, another sign that some civilization once called this land hone.
Sunset’s wings twitched in anticipation, but the more logical part of her mind cut in. “I shouldn’t try to fly until I have a better place to practice,” she reasoned, “I can probably just climb down.”
Sunset’s deliberations were cut off by a noise that echoed behind her. A loud clatter of metal on stone, followed by the rattling of large chains.
Something was coming up the large lift.
“On the other hoof, no time like the present! Bugs can handle big falls, right?”
Her decision made, Sunset leapt into the abyss. The wind caught on her wings, and Sunset was swept away.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
An old, but very much alive beetle crept out of the remains of Stagnest and surveyed the howling cliffs, looking for any sign of whomever had run the station bell. The sight of his fallen kin had been saddening, but he had come to accept their fates years ago. There would be time for mourning later though, the present situation was of more importance.
The Last Stag couldn’t think of any reason for a bug to call for a stag only to flee when one answered the bell. It was perplexing, and perhaps he was just a bit offended. The stagways has been silent for so long that he had nearly forgotten the routes entirely. For the second bug to call him in all this time to not wait for his arrival... He may have been old, but he was not THAT slow yet!
The Last Stag was pulled from his fuming by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned to see his recently met companion approach.
A rather mysterious bug, its identity was obscured by an old grey cloak and pale horned mask. The rusted nail on its back suggested its profession as a wandering knight, though its stature would leave some questioning that notion. In the short time the Last Stag had known it, he had not even heard it say a single word, nor so much as even a single involuntary peep. Despite this, the knight was capable of directing the Last Stag where it needed to travel on the stagways. The knight had even heard the bell from stagnest before he did, and insisted on the detour.
“It would seem our runaway traveler escaped into the cliffs,” the Last Stag growled. “If you should meet them in your travels, perhaps you could drag them to a station so they can learn to wait properly.”
The knight didn’t respond, naturally. It stared blankly over the cliffs, still as the night. Apparently coming to a decision, it simply walked off the balcony, and dropped from sight.
Sunset Shimmer awoke half buried in sand. She hoped this would not become a recurring event.
She had a vague recollection of her brief flight, from the sudden gust of wind that robed her of any control, up to crashing into the dunes that lay at the mountain’s base. Clearly, flight was much more complicated than the average pegasus made it look.
After digging herself out, Sunset surveyed the landscape. It was a barren wasteland of shifting dunes moved by cold winds. Dotting the boundary between the desert proper and the cliffs behind her, Sunset could make out several sandblasted husks.
“Well, that looks completely inhospitable,” Sunset sighed, “Back up the mountain it is.”
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Aside from the occasional scavenging vermin, Sunset’s journey was uneventful. Anything bold enough to try and take a bite out of her was easily scared off with a quick burst of flame. This left Sunset with little more to do than stew in her thoughts as she traveled.
“What was even with that mirror,” Sunset grumbled, “Why did it lead to dead bug world? Why couldn’t I have been sent to a bird kingdom? Or gecko land? Tartarus, I’d take a world of naked apes over this.”
Distracted as she was, Sunset didn’t notice the pale masked bug standing in her way until she practically tripped over it.
Jerked back to reality, Sunset was irritated how the masked bug had not done anything to avoid her, even if the crash was her own fault.
“What do you think you’re doing, just standing there?” Sunset snapped.
The masked bug did not respond. It simply stared blankly back at Sunset. It was slightly creepy, actually.
“Hello? Anypo- bug in there?”
The masked bug did not respond. It simply stared blankly back at Sunset. Now it was simply annoying.
“Oh Whatever,” Sunset sighed, “you can just stand there doing, whatever it is you were doing.”
Sunset stormed past the masked bug, intent on just forgetting this encounter. The sound of light footsteps following her made that plan more difficult.
Sunset tried to ignore it, there was only the one crumbling road after all, but her unwanted traveling companion’s continued silence was wearing her patience thin.
Sunset wheeled around, wings flared. “Do you really not have anything better to do?!” she shouted in exasperation.
The masked bug did not respond. It simply stared blankly back at Sunset.
With the way her luck had been going as of late, this was naturally when the wind chose to gust, catching Sunset’s spread wings and slamming her into a nearby wall.
Slowly, Sunset slid to the ground, dazed. “I trust you won’t tell any bug about this,” she groaned.
The masked bug simply stared blankly back at Sunset. Or rather, at the wall behind her. Turning to follow it's gaze, Sunset saw that the wall was heavily cracked. Sunset backed away from the wall, wary of the possibility it could collapse, but then she noticed the cracks stayed within a roughly square region.
“A false wall?” She guessed.
A sudden flash of metal swept past Sunset, testing that theory. The wall shattered, revealing a hidden cave.
The masked bug walked past Sunset, the weapon on it's back shedding a few stone fragments that had snagged on the dull blade.
Sunset shuddered, that weapon had swung by too close for comfort. She decided it would be in her best interests to not antagonize the masked bug any further.
Sunset followed behind the masked bug, lighting a flame to get a better look inside. The walls were composed of shells like the rest of the mountain, though the floor had been smoothed down.
Sunset hesitated. The memory of the last tunnel she inspected still fresh in her mind.
“This cave must have been walled up for a reason,” Sunset mused, “and if we just broke in, that must mean that nothing broke out.”
Having reassured herself, Sunset followed the masked bug inside, her flame providing light. They didn’t travel far before reaching a dead end.
“This can’t be all there is here,” Sunset mused. She began examining the walls. “And where there is one false wall, there should be-“
The clash of metal on stone followed by crumbling rock answered Sunset. She turned to see the masked bug disappear through the hole it had opened in the wall.
The next chamber was larger, and showed definitive signs of having been previously inhabited. Tattered drapes hung from crumbling arches, and several unlit torches taller than Sunset stood around the perimeter of the chamber.
“Well this is a pleasant place,” Sunset deadpanned.
Her attention was drawn to the masked bug. It was staring at something in the back corner of the room.
Slumped against the back wall were the remains of a large bug. What looked like the remains of a red harlequin’s outfit was visibly stitched into the carcass, completed by a white mask that covered it’s face.
“Oh goody, another corpse,” Sunset groaned.
This whole place was puzzling Sunset to no end. Unlike the beetle station she first woke up in, there was nothing to indicate what this room’s purpose was, other than perhaps...
Sunset thought back to the beetle shell, and the ghostly voice she had heard when she touched it. The voice had hinted at the nature of the beetle station, so there was a possibility she could get some clue about this place. With no better idea, she raised a claw and poked the corpse.
“Ew-Ew-Ew-Why?-Squishy-Why?”
Distracted as she was reconsidering her immediate decisions as of late, Sunset did not notice the eyes of the corpse’s mask glow red, nor the glowing discs of red light that emanated from the corpse.
As she was burning corpse slime off her claws, Sunset felt a light tug at her wing. She turned to see that the masked bug was staring at the center of the room.
A large torch had appeared. At it’s base lay a cage filled with glowing coals. The torch had an oppressive air to it, almost as if it radiated both cold and heat.
“That wasn’t there before, right?” Sunset asked.
The masked bug did not respond. It simply stared blankly back at Sunset.
Sunset found herself approaching the torch without realizing it. The caged coals almost seemed to beckon to her. Transfixed, Sunset reached for the coals with her own flame.
Sunset froze, the compulsion that had gripped her so completely had suddenly vanished. She jerked her lit claw away from the coals.
There clearly was some form of magic at work in this place. Something wanted the coals lit, but it either would not or could not force Sunset to do so.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Sunset decided, “Princess Celestia taught me to never...”
Princess Celestia...
Sunset had been awestruck the day that the Solar Monarch had approached her, just an ordinary filly, to ask Sunset to be her personal student. Questions of what secrets of magic Sunset would learn under the Princess’ tutelage had filled her dreams every night since that day. However, as the years passed, Sunset slowly realized that everything Celestia taught her was readily available to any student at the School for Gifted Unicorns. Whenever Sunset asked her teacher why, Celestia’s response was always the same. She was not yet ready.
But it was ‘Princess’ Cadence who had been the final straw. That some backwater pegasus could show up out of nowhere and just be given more than Sunset had even dared to dream...
The rest, as they say, was history.
“If Celestia would tell me not to light this then perhaps I should do exactly that!” Sunset decided.
With no more hesitation, Sunset thrust her flaming claw into the cage. The coals within seemed to drink in her flames, catching fire far quicker than natural. Sunset backed away as the fire grew more intense, turning from Sunset’s golden flames to a bloody crimson fire. This fire then shot up to the torch, lighting it. The other torches in the room were lit by crimson flames as well, filling the room with a sinister red glow.
Just when Sunset began to think it was over, the room began to shake. An oppressive aura filled the air, an invisible weight seeming to press down on Sunset, pulling her to the ground. Behind her, the masked bug staggered and fell to one knee. From somewhere above, Sunset could hear a sinister tune playing. It sounded like an accordion of all things. When the music ended, so did the room’s shaking.
Sunset picked herself off the floor. She looked up to try and see where the music had come from, but the light of the torches clearly illuminated the vaulted ceiling to show no hidden alcoves above.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
After it became clear that nothing else of interest could be found in the hidden room, Sunset left it behind with more questions than answers. That place gave her a bad feeling, and there were other issues that were beginning to rear up.
“Are you sure there is any food this way?”
Primarily, sustenance. Since arriving in this world, Sunset had not found a scrap of anything she could identify as remotely edible.
Her silent guide naturally did not respond. The masked bug barely even acknowledged her presence other than to wait when she fell behind. Given the state of the road, this was a frequent occurrence. While the masked bug could easily leap over the many ledges, gaps, and spikes that littered the decaying road, Sunset had to rely on her new wings. As long as she kept to flying between gusts of wind, she was fine. At the very least, Sunset was getting decent practice in, but the occasional impaled husk served as a grim reminder for her to stay vigilant.
The hike up the cliffs continued this way, even though Sunset was growing skeptical of her guide's intentions. Still, the old road the were following had to lead somewhere, and Sunset had to hope it was inhabited.
The peak was marked by a lonely lamppost, this one lit by tiny glowing bugs in the lamps. The sight gave Sunset hope. After all, something had to maintain the lamps if the bugs inside were still alive. Her attention was then drawn downward, where she could make out what looked like a small village. It was a simple looking place, the houses had a worn tired look. the largest structure by far was a large tent. Sunset was reminded of a circus that she had seen with... it was a Circus tent.
"So, is this your home?" Sunset asked. She didn't really expect a response from the masked bug at this point, but attempting to make small talk made it seem less unnerving. Sunset turned to where she last saw the bug, but froze when she saw that they were nowhere to be seen.
"I guess they know I can make it from here," Sunset decided. She was sure the masked bug would turn up later.
The village below was sheltered from the winds in it's valley, so Sunset spread her wings with confidence, and with a flutter, began her descent from the peak.
Author's Note
And so we have it.
Find out next chapter (if it ever arrives)
OK, now that I've got the silliness out of my systems.
“Miss? Young Miss? Are you all right?”
The voice called Sunset once more to her senses. This time she found herself laying on a wrought iron bench. Sunset sat up, taking a more comfortable position.
The first thing she saw was a bug wearing an old grey robe and a pale horned mask. It took Sunset a moment to realize that this was not the same bug she met on the cliffs. While they were dressed similarly, this bug was larger. There was one other notable difference.
“Ah, it is good to see you return to the waking world. You had given me quite the scare, falling out of the sky like that.”
This one actually spoke.
“Here, drink this.” He handed Sunset a bowl filled with a sweet smelling liquid. “You must have had quite the ordeal to reach our village.”
Sunset contemplated the bowl she held. She understood how moths fed themselves, but understanding was proving easier than actually doing. Clearing her mind, Sunset pictured herself holding a straw in her mouth. Moving this imaginary straw was met with an unraveling sensation.
As she began to drink from the bowl, Sunset decided to not question how she was able to speak through a proboscis.
Sunset placed the emptied bowl to the side. “Thank you,” she said, “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Flying takes a great deal of energy, or so I’m told,” the old bug said, “Though I’ve never envied flying bugs myself. I prefer to keep all of my feet firmly on the ground.”
“It is harder than it looks,” Sunset admitted.
“Oh! But where are my manners?” the old bug chuckled, “I am Elderbug, and I would like to welcome you to the humble town of Dirtmouth.”
Sunset looked around the square. Of the buildings she could see, only three showed any signs of recent use. Most of town showed signs of neglect. Of what windows even had glass, most were broken. The door to one home hung off its hinges, swinging listlessly in the breeze.
Sunset spoke up, “This place looks...”
“Abandoned?” Elderbug guessed, “You would not be wrong,”
Elderbug collected the bowl and sat down next to Sunset. “The other residents, they've all disappeared.” He explained. “Headed down the well at the edge of town, one by one, into the caverns below.”
Sunset grew concerned, this did not sound like a natural occurrence.
“Why were they doing this?” Sunset asked, “Is there something down there?”
Elderbug nodded. “Used to be there was a great kingdom beneath our town.” He explained, “Its long fell to ruin, yet it still draws folks into its depths.”
Sunset was reminded of Equestria’s old capital of Everfree. For reasons not fully understood, the forest began to grow out of control, forcing the ponies to abandon the city. Still, some of the more stubborn citizens stuck around, eventually moving to a town on the forest’s edge called Ponyville. Some believed the forest was cursed by Nightmare Moon after Celestia...
Sunset discarded that train of thought.
“Was there something specific any of them was searching for?” Sunset asked.
“Wealth, glory, enlightenment,” Elderbug listed, “that darkness seems to promise all things. I'm sure you too seek your dreams down there.”
Not exactly untrue, considering what she had seen in the mirror, and yet...
“I think I’ve already seen what just rushing ahead will get me,” Sunset admitted.
You’re not ready...
“Indeed. It's a sickly air that fills the place,” said Elderbug. He seemed to relax slightly at what Sunset had said. “Creatures turn mad and travellers are robbed of their memories. The shopkeeper, Sly, was one of the only bugs to return, and he can’t say what happened to him down there.”
Elderbug sighed. Sunset realized the loss that must weigh on the old bug, able to do nothing but watch his home wither away as friends and family disappeared one by one.
“Are there any other bugs left in town?” Sunset asked. The large tents sitting on the outskirts came to mind.
“Of the original townsfolk, there is only Sly and myself,” Elderbug confirmed sadly. However, his mood seemed to brighten slightly.
“A young couple’s just recently taken up residence in that house over there.” Elderbug pointed to a small building. Oddly, there seemed to be a large pair of glasses sitting on the roof. “Seems they’re running a map shop,”
“It seems a bit, cozy for a shop,” Sunset noted.
Elderbug chuckled, “Indeed, She's a tall bug, the wife. I told them to take a larger house, especially given they're all empty, but they liked the look of that one.”
Sunset was glad that there was some brightness to this gloomy town, but it did not escape her notice that Elderbug had not mentioned something specific.
“What about those tents I saw?” She asked.
Elderbug flinched slightly, then looked around as if he was concerned of being watched. This was not the kind of response Sunset expected.
“Those tents, they suddenly appeared not long before you arrived,” Elderbug whispered, “I had left my watch for but a moment to check on Sly, and when I returned, those ghastly things were there as if they had always been.” He shuddered. “Shortly after, you had your fall, and I took you here to recover.”
Sunset pondered this new information. If the tents were a recent arrival, could they have something to do with the torch? Whatever was going on, Sunset knew magic was in play, new and unfamiliar magic, and Sunset’s curiosity would not let her rest until she understood it.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Sunset had to admit, now that she was standing before the entrance to the main tent, she could see why Elderbug was so unnerved by it’s arrival. A screaming mask for a door did not give a friendly impression. The two masked giraffe weevils that were staring at her also did not reassure Sunset with their silence.
Elderbug had naturally objected to Sunset investigating the tents, and only took her assurance that she would be fine with a depressed resignation. Sunset could tell that the old bug worried about her. It wasn’t hard to tell why, he’d simply lost too many. But If whatever was responsible for these tents was dangerous, then staying in Dirtmouth would not be wise. However, between the wastelands outside the mountains, and the cursed kingdom below, there was nowhere to go. Sunset knew she had to do something, after all...
This was likely her fault.
From within the tent, Sunset could hear a familiar accordion tune, the same one she heard after lighting the torch. Just inside, a hallway stretched into darkness. As she walked down the hall, Sunset noted that it extended farther than the tent’s exterior suggested as possible. The deeper she went, the clearer the music became, until Sunset finally encountered the source.
A large, costumed bug stood just before a dark doorway. Sunset noticed that the ‘accordion’ he was playing was actually another bug, and while she couldn’t know for sure, Sunset was pretty sure that was not normal.
Sunset put on an air of confidence, one she used to great affect when she had to speak with Canterlot nobles.
“I recognize that song,” Sunset said accusingly, “You were at that cave with the torches, weren’t you?”
The costumed bug barely glanced at her as he continued playing.
“Mrmm. You called us?” he grunted, “Speak to Master.”
That was... less than what Sunset hoped to get.
“Who is this Master you speak of?” Sunset demanded.
“Mrmm. Speak to Master.”
Somehow, this bug was more infuriating than the mute one.
“Fine then. Where is your master?” Sunset asked.
The costumed bug indicated the doorway behind him, and Sunset walked through without another word. Perhaps this Master would be more talkative.
Sunset found herself in an open space. In the darkness, she could barely see anything. When a spotlight suddenly illuminated her, Sunset was able to see even less. A drumroll began as the spotlight swung about, while a crimson fog began to fill the air. The the song from the accordion bug grew louder, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
With a sudden crash of cymbals, a tall, slender bug appeared in a burst of crimson fire, the spotlight snapping to him. He stood with his back to Sunset, wings wrapped around his body like a cloak. When he turned his head to look at her, Sunset saw that he too wore a mask, one with eyes that glowed scarlet.
“So, it was you who called us.”
His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried a weight that stripped Sunset of any bravado. She could only nod her head in response.
The master turned around and gave a low bow.
“Well met, my little moth. Well met. I am Grimm, master of this troupe.”
He took Sunset’s claw in his own and brought it up to his mask as if to give it a kiss. Sunset quickly jerked her claw back with a shudder, though this did not appear to bother Grimm in the slightest.
“The lantern has been lit, and your summons heeded,” He continued, “A fine stage you choose, this kingdom fallowed by wyrm and root, perfect earth upon which our Ritual shall take place.”
“Ritual?” Sunset repeated with growing concern, “What kind of ritual are you talking about?”
“No need to be alarmed, my little moth, all will be revealed to you in time,” Grimm replied, bowing once more, “If it would reassure you, I personally swear by the Heart of Grimm that no harm will come to any resident of this village.”
Grimm’s promise sounded sincere. While Sunset was grateful that she had not brought further misfortune to Dirtmouth, the fact that Grimm’s oath contained a rather glaring omission did not escape her.
“And you, my little moth. Your own part is far from over.”
And there the other pin dropped.
“As the lantern flared your role was cast, our compact written in scarlet fire.“
“And what if I refuse to take part?” Sunset cut in.
Grimm merely chuckled. “Little moth, why would you even wish to?” he countered, “Could you see yourself simply living a life in this village, watching as doomed adventurers marched by one after another into the ruins below, never to return?”
Grimm knelt down and took Sunset’s claws into his own. Golden flames ignited within their grip without Sunset having conjured them.
“You have a fire within you,” Grimm explained, “A spark that demands you strive for greater things. It is what called you to this kingdom is it not?”
Sunset was unable to deny this. A part of Sunset wondered just how much Grimm knew about her.
“We can help you cultivate this spark,” the troupe master continued. A red hue began to bleed into the flame they held, “Just as you will aid us in our purpose.”
Sunset thought back to when she first became Celestia’s student. The Alicorn Princess had told her much of the same, and yet what had come of it? Was she willing to take the same chance again?
You’re not ready...
Or perhaps nopony ever is.
“All right,” she said, “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderfull!” Grimm exclaimed. He released Sunset’s claws and leapt back into the spotlight. The flames they had held were scattered about like loose coals, but still continued to burn.
“Eager we are to see you commence, but first, some illumination is required.”
At the snap of his claw, a second spotlight lit the ground between them. Within the beam, a tiny bug was revealed. With it’s mask and wings, the creature looked like a miniature Grimm. If it had not immediately bowed to her, Sunset would have also said it looked like a withered corpse.
From somewhere on it’s person, the tiny bug withdrew a slate and red chalk. It began to scribble on the slate while Grimm spoke.
“Across these lands my kin now spread, harvesting that essence peculiar to my... breed, the flame in dream.”
The tiny Grimm showed Sunset a crudely drawn white faced red blob carrying a torch. The troupe Master acted as if he did not notice.
“Seek my kin; claim their flame and return it to me. Together, marvels shall be achieved.”
The next drawing was of a scribble that presumably was meant to be Sunset... stabbing the red blob? Another was of Scribble Sunset giving the torch to a well sketched Grimm.
“But don't fret, my little moth. For this task you won't travel alone. My child shall guide you to the flame and gather within itself that burning essence.”
At this, Grimm’s child leapt into the air and spread it’s wings. It flew to the scattered embers which, rather than burn the child, were drawn under it’s mask. When it’s demonstration ended, the young bug landed beside Grimm. The admittedly impressive display of areal acrobatics was undercut slightly when it belched up a small plume of smoke.
“Like you, the child plays key role in this task.” Grimm concluded. He knelt down and gave the child an affectionate pat. “Only with it by your side will the flame, and my kin, reveal themselves to you.”
Sunset took a moment to process the presentation. She suspected that Grimm had yet to explain this ‘ritual’ in full, but there was little she could do about that. There was one thing she still needed to know.
“How will any of this help me?” Sunset asked.
“An astute question, my little moth.” Grimm responded. “Brumm, would you bring our guest the gift we have prepared for her?”
“Mrmm.” a familiar grunt sounded off behind Sunset. She most assuredly did not jump in surprise. She turned to see the accordion player, Brumm, holding a red cloth bundle, on top of which was a mask similar to those worn by the troupe.
“The masks we wear aid us to focus our minds and flame.” explained Grimm. “What you seek can not simply be taught. You must look within yourself. Wear the mask as you seek the kingdom’s flame and it shall attune itself to your own.”
Sunset took the mask from Brumm. It was a simple rounded shape, wider than her own head, but not unpleasantly so. It was like a mask one might wear to a masquerade ball. Turning the mask around, Sunset inspected the inside. There was no means of securing the mask, but Sunset suspected that would not be a problem. Her primary concern was how difficult would it be to take the mask off?
“In for one, in for it all.” Sunset sighed. Taking care not to bend her antennae, Sunset donned the mask. Her sight briefly went dark while she aligned the mask’s eyes with her own.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
The bell above the door jingled merrily as Sunset entered the shop. While Grimm had been able to provide her with a traveling cloak (fireproofed and tested, don’t mind the ashes) and a pouch of geo, (metallic shell fossils used as currency) Sunset was required to supply herself for the journey ahead. Thus, a trip to the store was needed.
She surveyed the shelves, curious as to what supplies were available. What she saw was underwhelming to say the least. A few shards from broken masks, a bent rusty key, a cracked lantern, and a few other unidentifiable knick-knacks lay haphazardly on display. On the back wall hung a blade larger than Sunset, obviously as a decoration. No bug could possibly wield something that big.
However, it was the apparent lack of a shopkeeper that held most of Sunset’s attention.
“I was told this was a shop, not a museum,” she quipped.
“My apologies for that,” came a response from behind the counter. The voice’s owner, a small firefly, peeked up from behind the counter. “Most of my stock is locked in the storeroom, and I can’t find the blasted key anywhere.”
The firefly, presumably Sly, hopped onto the countertop. “I may still have something to sell you,” he offered, “What are you looking to buy?”
“I aim to venture into the kingdom below, and require supplies for the journey,” Sunset answered.
Sly’s eyes seemed to gleam. At once, he began to flit from shelf to shelf, gathering an assortment of goods and piling them on the counter.
“Now, while I gather the basics for you, I want to know; what do you have to defend yourself with?”
Confident in her magic, Sunset lifted a claw and lit a flame. Sly paused in his gathering, before returning the lantern to it’s shelf. Suddenly, something struck Sunset’s foreleg, causing a burst of pain and dousing her flame. When the stars cleared from her eyes, she saw Sly inspecting a wooden splinter.
“Not even singed,” he noted, “a pretty parlor trick, but not very good for defense now is it?”
Sunset deflated slightly. Sly had made his point.
The shopkeeper himself had moved on to rummaging by the back wall, muttering to himself.
“Now let’s see, I should still have something up here she can use. She’ll insist on something one clawed. Can’t be too heavy or she’ll struggle to fly. Ah-HA!”
Sly hopped back to the counter to present a blade to Sunset. “One Airguard’s shortnail, a favored weapon of flying guards all over.”
Sunset took up the blade, but she barely had the chance to get a feel for it before Sly’s splinter slapped the shortnail from her grip. It landed point first in the wall and stuck, quivering. Ignoring her cry of indignation, Sly returned to his rummaging.
“The balance is all wrong for her, need something she can keep a grip on.”
The second weapon Sly presented was shorter, with a wide guard-piece between the blade and grip.
“A shieldtack, well balanced, both in weight, and in offense and defense.”
Sunset lifted the tack, taking care to keep an eye on Sly this time. When he leapt into the air, she was ready for it. She was not however, ready for the firefly to begin spinning in the air, splinter out. Sunset was barely able to catch the attack with the tack, the splinter glancing off the point three times before Sly twisted and struck the back of the shield, wrenching the tack from her grip.
“Prefers to deflect rather than block, sensible, especially for in flight.”
By this point, Sunset was putting together that Sly preferred a claws-on approach when it came to arming new customers. Exactly how a shopkeeper knew so much about fighting she couldn’t fathom, but the oversized nail on the back wall was starting to look less decorative.
“Prefers a high stance, less power, more finesse. Perhaps? Ah, of course!”
This time, the weapon Sly presented to Sunset was a simple piece. Slightly longer than the shortnail, it was bladeless save for a pointed tip. The grip was simply where the shaft of the weapon curved in on itself to to form a hook.
“A Lacemaker’s Hookpin,” Sly intoned. “Perfect for fencing and parrying, the hooked grip allows the wielder to freely adjust the angle of the pin as needed.” Sly swung the pin to a vertical position, drawing Sunset’s attention to the tip. “While only the point is sharp, this allows one to freely brace the pin with their free claw to better ward of heavy blows,” Sly explained. He then spun the pin around, showing Sunset the other end. “The hook is more than just a grip, it can be used to disarm foes or grab them. You could even tie on a thread and mimic techniques normally performed with a needle, though you like to play with fire, so you’d probably burn through it if you tried.”
Sly lay the hookpin on the countertop for Sunset. There was no sudden attack from Sly when she picked it up, though the Shopkeeper watched her with a critical eye. After a moment he nodded.
“That pin looks happy to have a wielder again,” he said, satisfied. “It should serve you well.”
“Again?” Sunset questioned.
Sly had the decency to at least act bashful. “Ah, yes. Most of my merchandise was ripped from the claws of dead adventurers,” he admitted. “But let’s not discuss the ethics of grave robbing. A dead customer is never a repeat customer, which is why I aim to sell you the best of my stock.”
Sunset sighed, Elderbug may have called Sly greedy, but at the very least she could tell the firefly’s heart was in the right place.
“And that means I don’t even have to feel guilty about upselling you! Now, let’s talk Geo.”
Scratch that, Sly’s heart was pure greed.
Without another word, Sunset simply took out her geo pouch, and emptied it’s entire contents onto the countertop.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
In the end, Sly had oh-so ‘generously’ left Sunset with just enough Geo to purchase a pair of maps from the map shop. The incomplete nature of said maps had not escaped Sunset’s notice, but she understood that it would take a long time to properly chart out the caverns below. Greenpath seemed as good a place as any to begin her search. As she finally began to make her way to the well, a voice called out.
“So, you too have decided to journey below,”
Sunset turned to see Elderbug standing forlorn at the edge of town. The old bug examined her with a weary resignation, especially the mask she now wore.
“At the behest of those strangers, no doubt.” He sighed. “Have you truly considered the risk they have asked of you?”
Sunset nodded. “I have. I can’t deny that the road ahead of me will be dangerous, but I also can not simply stay here doing nothing.” She looked back to the well. “There is something down there, drawing bugs to it. Even if the troupe had not come to this town, I would have left in search of it, to try and stop it from causing any more harm.”
Elderbug mulled over Sunset’s words.
“Perhaps you are right,” he agreed. “Many used to come here, hoping the kingdom would fulfill their desires.” Elderbug looked to the well, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Hallownest, it was once called. Supposedly the greatest kingdom there ever was, full of treasures and secrets.”
Elderbug turned away. “Now it's nothing more than a poisonous tomb full of monsters and madness.” He spat bitterly. “If I thought it would have done any good, I would have sealed that well years ago. Alas, it is not the only entrance, merely the safest.”
Elderbug began to return to town, but paused. He looked back to Sunset.
“Young miss? I do believe I never learned your name.”
He looked past Sunset, to the graveyard beyond the well. Sunset found herself following his gaze. Far to many of the gravestones were unmarked. What Elderbug was implying was not lost on Sunset,
“How about this,” Sunset offered, “I promise to tell you when I return. Not ‘if,’ when.”
Elderbug was silent for a time, clearly weighing the terms of Sunset’s deal. Eventually, the old bug gave a sigh of resignation.
“I suppose I have no choice in the matter,” he sighed, before turning back and disappearing among the empty houses.
As Sunset watched him leave, she couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt at what she’d said. However, she stood by her decision. Elderbug would not be putting up a grave for her if she had anything to say about it.
“The shade of regret hangs heavy over this village.”
Sunset turned to see Grimm standing by the well, the Grimmchild hovering by his side.
“The regrets of inaction, of being incapable of stopping a tragedy one believes they could have prevented, even when events were far beyond their control,” Grimm recited.
Sunset could agree that every life that had passed through Dirtmouth weighed heavily on Elderbug’s conscience.
“The regrets of a wife who does not know the time when she will be a widow.”
Sunset thought back to Iselda, the shopkeeper that sold her the maps. Since her husband had to explore the kingdom at length to make his maps, there was the ever present danger he would never return.
“The regrets of a teacher who watched his students turn on one another, and so distracts himself with personal gratification.”
Sunset wondered again just why Sly was so proficient with a blade.
“And the regrets of a young maiden who threw away the life she knew in search of glory.” Grimm concluded, staring right at Sunset.
Sunset wanted to argue, to deny Grimm’s accusation, but a weight in her chest prevented her from speaking up.
“Regret weighs heavy on one’s soul. Regret too much, and you will find yourself unable to act. So tell me, my little moth, what has this village taught you about regret?”
Sunset took a deep breath and thought over her time in Dirtmouth. Why had Elderbug stayed here when every last bug had disappeared? Why did Sly return? Why had the town persisted long after the kingdom fell to ruin? What hope was there?
Sunset realized she had her answer.
“Hope,” she said, “Hope can overcome regret.”
“Oh? And what lead you to this idea?” Grimm asked.
“Iselda hopes for her husband to return safely, and that one day his atlas of Hallownest will be complete,” Sunset answered. “Sly hopes his wares will aid travelers and keep them alive.” She drew her pin, showing the weapon to Grimm. “He won’t settle for anything less than the best he can give.”
Stowing the pin back within her cloak, Sunset turned to look back at Dirtmouth. “Elderbug, in spite of everything that has happened, still holds on to the hope that his home will not disappear.”
“Well said, my little moth,” Grimm said with a bow. “But what of you? What is it you hope for?”
Sunset was taken aback. She hadn’t even considered herself in her answer. However, it did not take her long to figure out why.
“I left everything behind,” she admitted. Sunset sank till she was sitting on the ground. “Everything I wanted had been taken out of my reach, and when I thought I could get it all back, I wound up here before I even knew what was happening.”
Grimm knelt down and lifted Sunset’s face by her mask, making her look him in the eyes.
“Now now, my little moth. Surely that can not be all,” said Grimm. With a shudder, Sunset brushed aside his claw, though this did not seem to bother him. “The bugs of this village, though you’ve been here for only a brief while, have placed their hopes in you. Hope for good news, hope that you live, hope that you return.” Grimm stood up once more and turned to look at the well. “ Hope for the ritual’s completion, hope for the flame.”
Sunset stood up. “I guess there is no point in keeping everybug waiting then,” she said.
The Grimmchild floated over to her side as Sunset finally made her way to the old well. Together they began their decent into the caverns below under Grimm’s watchful eye.
“Hold on to their hopes tightly, my little moth,” He whispered, even though Grimm knew Sunset could not hear. “Least your fire consume you from within, as it did to her.”
Author's Note
If you are creeped out by any romantic subtext between Grimm and Sunset, then I have done my job properly. If not, then you need to get your mid out of the gutter, for that is my domain.
Sunset landed softly at the bottom of the well with the Grimmchild close behind. To either side, tunnels stretched out into the gloom, sparsely lit by lanterns and some sort of bioluminescent plant. Aside from the occasional vermin, they were completely alone
Sunset pulled out her map for the crossroads and checked the route she had planned. Greenpath was to the west of the well, more or less, while to the east was a place marked as the ‘Temple of the Black Egg.’
Briefly, she regretted not being able to buy a compass from Iselda, before brushing that thought aside.
“I’ll know if we’re on the right path before too long,” she rationalized, before stowing the map once more. Picking a tunnel, Sunset began her journey.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Other than the occasional sinkhole, the road was in much better condition than the one through the cliffs. This time, Sunset let her new pin do the work whenever a pest got to bold. After all, there was no sense in using magic for everything.
Just like Celestia always said.
Sunset shook the unwanted thought from her head. There was no point in looking back. She should just focus on what lay ahead.
Such as that upright bug walking toward her.
“Oh, Hello!” Sunset called out. “I did not expect to meet another bug so soon!”
The other bug made no response.
As they approached one another, Sunset noticed that the bug’s gait was uneven, more of a drunken stagger.
Sunset called out once more, “Excuse me, are you all right?”
She quickened her own pace and approached the bug. That finally got it’s attention. The bug turned to Sunset, finally giving her a clear look at it. It’s shell was dull and cracked. Behind the mask it wore, it’s dead eyes glowed with a sinister orange light.
With a feral snarl, the bug lunged at Sunset. The Grimmchild dashed up to the ceiling, while Sunset dove to the side, flailing her pin at her assailant. Her pin’s strike knocked them both to the ground, though Sunset was able to quickly recover.
The other bug was not so lucky. It landed face first with a sharp snap as it’s mask splintered on the stone floor. Keeping her pin at the ready, Sunset approached the bug once more.
A glowing, orange ichor seeped out from a gash in the bug’s side opened by Sunset’s pin. The unnatural fluid made Sunset ill just looking at it. More ichor trickled out from beneath the broken mask, suggesting an unpleasant injury from the shards.
Just when Sunset thought that was the end of it, the body suddenly spasmed. The bug pushed itself up, broken mask shards falling away from it’s mangled face. The bug shrieked and threw itself at Sunset This time, she managed to sidestep the attack, countering with an upward slash of her pin. A severed forelimb flew off in an arc, though the bug hardly seemed to notice it’s sudden loss. Rather than let her opponent make another move, Sunset followed up with a stab to the back of it’s head. The body stiffened, before going limp and collapsing.
Sunset stepped away from the corpse, horrified. Not quite at what she had done, but more so at the condition the bug had been in. That’s not to say she was fine with having killed it, but she had not been given much of a choice.
Sunset sank to the ground, shaking. What if that had been one of the missing villagers at one point? What had even happened to that bug to put them in such a state? Could she have ended the fight another way?
Sunset took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She had done the only thing she could. Such measures were understandable when dealing with the undead.
Sunset took out a rag and began to wipe off her pin. Above, she saw the Grimmchild peeking out from behind a stalactite. Wordlessly, she patted the ground beside her, and the smaller bug drifted down to settle beside her.
Way to go Sunset, you get in one little fight and you immediately break down. You really aren’t ready.
Sunset brushed those traitorous thoughts aside. Ready or not, she was going to press on.
Her pin cleaned, Sunset stood up, but she paused. She could hear a strange gurgling noise, almost like...
Sunset panned back to see the husk struggling to rise once more. If she still had eyelids, she was certain they’d be twitching right now. Nevertheless, her new antennae were fulfilling that role.
Sunset knew to stay calm. She had this situation well under control. Readying herself, she took a deep breath and...
“OH COME ON! I was having a moment because of you!”
Clearly, the plan to stay calm had failed.
“At least have the decency to STAY dead!”
The air around Sunset flickered as she drew back a claw and threw a glittering gold fireball at the husk. The undead bug flailed about as it’s dry shell was lit aflame, before falling still, hopefully for good.
The Grimmchild hovered over to examine the burning corpse. It gave a satisfied nod, and then blew a flaming raspberry of all things, before returning to Sunset’s side.
“Was that really necessary?” She asked.
The Grimmchild simply responded with another fiery “Thbbb.”
Sunset gave the little bug an unimpressed look.
“Well ‘fweet’ to you too.” Sunset shot back with a toot of her own. The fact that she had sounded like a roll up party horn didn’t even bother her.
Any further levity was cut of by a piercing shriek that echoed sounded the tunnel. Sunset spun around, trying to see where it came from.
“H-h-Help! P-Please?”
Sunset took off after the voice, flying down the tunnel with the Grimmchild close behind.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Myla struggled to get out from under the hostile husk that had her pinned, her trusty pick against it’s neck the only thing keeping it’s foaming jaws at bay. What concerned her more though was the second husk stalking towards her. While she might be capable of dealing with the first one, she wasn’t confident she could do so before the second reached her.
Suddenly, a shimmering red and gold form flew overhead. There was a flash of silver, and the husk that had kept her pinned was knocked aside in a spray of orange. Myla had a moment to ponder how oddly colorful this dire situation was now, before she realized she was free to move. She scrambled to her feet and clutched at her pick defensively, readying herself for the second husk.
She needn’t have bothered, her shimmering savior had already confronted the shambling corpse. Golden fires tipped in red leapt forth at their bidding, crisping the husk. It stumbled forward, heedless of the flames that tried to consume it. Myla watched in awe as the other bug swung their weapon upwards, tearing open the husk’s body, letting the mystical fire ravage the interior of the undead bug.
With her assistants dispatched, Myla was able to get a better look at her savior. She was a moth, her wings patterned like flames in red and gold. A crimson cloak billowed around her body, and a white mask with vertical lines accenting the eyes adorned her face.
It took Myla a moment to realize she’d been staring at the moth. It took another to realize that the moth had noticed this.
“Oh! S-sorry for staring,” she quickly said, “M-my name is Myla. T-thank you f-for saving me.”
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
According to Myla, Sunset had indeed been headed in the direction of the Black Egg temple, though they both agreed it was a fortunate mistake in the end. As they were briefly traveling together, the Grimmchild kept itself hidden as it followed them. The way it moved from shadow to shadow was unnerving, but Sunset knew it was preferable to letting Myla see it’s withered form. The last thing she wanted to do was fray the poor bugs nerves even further.
Myla was a miner, formerly part of a large expedition that had come to Hallownest to take advantage of the abandoned fabled mines of Crystal Peak. However, it was not long before calamity struck. A cave in had rendered the main entrance to the mines impassible for bugs who couldn’t fly, trapping the expedition.
“I f-found a way out, but it was a one way t-trip.” She explained. “I-I’ve been trying to d-d-dig back in, I found a p-part of the crossroads that comes c-close to the mines, b-but it’s taking a l-long time.”
It had become a part of her routine as of late to occasionally take a break from mining and was travel to a nearby hot spring to recuperate. In all this time, there had never been anything more dangerous in the crossroads than the occasional vengefly. That was how she was caught so off guard when the husks attacked.
“I-I’ve never seen anything l-like it,” she continued. “There were rumors, s-some sort of sickness or plague, b-but we all thought that they were j-just stories.”
“And you’re sure you can’t find a safer way back to the mines?” asked Sunset.
Myla shook her head. “Now that I know ab-bout the husks, I sh-should be able to avoid them,” she said.
Sunset was not as reassured. “If you feel that the crossroads are starting to get to dangerous, promise me you’ll return to Dirtmouth.”
“I d-don’t believe that will b-be a problem,” Myla replied. “If it t-took so long for those husks to ap-pear, how common can th-they even be?”
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Soon, the three of them came upon a large shaft cut into the rock. Metal platforms suspended on vertical rails filled the pit, some still carrying long abandoned cargo. Large ‘gruzflies,’ as Myla called them, drifted aimlessly through the air. Just below them, Sunset saw an alcove that was partially overgrown with moss.
“So Greenpath must be through there,” Sunset guessed.
“Th-that’s right,” Myla confirmed, “and th-the hot spring is further down.”
“Then I guess this is where we part ways,” said Sunset. While she was reluctant to leave the miner bug alone, Sunset knew they both had their own missions.
“Oh! B-before you go! There are some things ab-bout Greenpath you may want to know,” Myla offered. “They’re m-mostly rumors, b-but so were the husks.”
“There have been mentions of b-bug eating plants, s-so watch where you step. Some stories even t-tell of the moss itself c-coming to life. Then there was the Mosskin, a t-tribe of bugs that lived in Greenpath b-before the founding of Hallownest. They were m-mostly reclusive, but they were also not known f-for being fond of k-kingdom bugs. Also, there is a legend of an eyeless g-ghost haunting a darkened temple, p-probably just a statue, b-b-but you can never be to careful. Finally, avoid any p-place with rocks like fangs, and d-don’t fall in the water.”
Sunset took a moment to process everything. Most of it sounded like they were just ghost stories, but so did everything ponies typically said about the Everfree forest. Timberwolves were not something to be dismissed as fantasy.
“Thank you,” said Sunset. “I’ll be sure to keep your advice in mind.”
Sunset stepped of the ledge and flew down to the mossy alcove. Turning back, she watched as Myla hopped down the platforms with practiced ease. Soon the miner reached the bottom of the shaft, where a roughly dug hole in the rocks lead further down. Myla looked back up to Sunset and gave a final wave farewell, before jumping down the hole and vanishing from sight.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Sunset stared at the wreckage of the bug before her.
‘Wreckage,’ while normally not a term one would use to describe a corpse, seemed appropriate. The large bug had wedged itself into the only entrance to Greenpath, and apparently something else had a disagreement with it’s choice of nesting space. It had been blown to bits, as if it had been standing in front of a canon as it fired. Sunset hoped she’d never meet whatever was responsible.
Sunset was pulled from her gawking by the sounds of the Grimmchild struggling against something. She turned around to see it snagged in a small spiderweb hanging from an archway. Sunset sighed and raised the hook of her pin.
“Hang on, I’ll get you out.”
However, before she could follow through, something struck the pin from Sunset’s grasp. A long bladed weapon embedded itself point first in a nearby wall, with her pin hanging from a ring below the grip.
A bug in a red cloak dropped in between Sunset and the Grimmchild. It wore a pale mask that smoothly transitioned into a par of tall horns. With a sharp gesture from the bug, their weapon pulled itself from the wall and flew to it’s master, taking Sunset’s pin with it. The bug then turned to regard the Grimmchild, before brandishing it’s weapon.
“So this is the focus of the fell presence I’ve sensed?” She questioned. “No matter, destroying it should dispel the rest.”
Sunset was livid. “Just what in Tartarus do you think you’re doing!” she cried out. She wanted to tackle the other bug, but found herself staring down the point of her own pin.
“I am willing to let you flee with your life ‘moth,’ do not convince me otherwise.” She warned.
The situation was dire, and Sunset knew it. She had to do something.
“Just who do you even think you are, threatening an innocent bug like that?” She demanded.
The cloaked bug paused. “I’d hardly call that thing innocent,” she sneered, “much less a bug.” She turned to face Sunset. The Grimmchild redoubled it’s struggling now that the masked bug wasn’t paying attention to it, but the web that ensnared it was expertly woven.
“As the guardian of Hallownest, it is my duty to vanquish any threats that may arise,” she declared, leveling her weapon at Sunset, “whomever that may be.”
Good, Sunset had the cloaked bug’s attention, which also qualified as bad. Still, as long as she could keep the other bug talking instead of fighting, Sunset could probe her for ammunition of a different sort. For instance...
“Some guardian you are,” Sunset taunted. “The kingdom is in ruins and the dead stalk the catacombs. You’re nothing but a brigand attacking travelers on a whim!”
Sunset could tell her words had hit a nerve. The cloaked bug’s weapon began quivering in her grip. “What gives you the right,” she growled. “I only know of one living moth, and you are not she. There is a strangeness to you, Outsider. You wear the face of a bug and ally yourself with demons.”
“No, what gives You the right?” Sunset countered, “Bugs are lured to this kingdom and disappear. You claim to be a guardian, but what have you done to keep the town above safe? Or are they ‘Outsiders’ too? What have you done to help the miners trapped in Crystal Peak?”
“SILENCE!” the cloaked bug shouted. “You know not of what you speak, Outsider. There are forces at play that are beyond our keen, beyond my control.” She threw the hookpin back at Sunset, who was barely able to catch it in time to deflect a strike from the cloaked bug’s own weapon.
“At the very least, what I can do is put a stop to you here and now!”
Heeding Sly’s advice, Sunset took flight. The cloaked bug’s next strike knocked her back, putting much appreciated space between them.
Congratulations Sunset, you have her attention; now what?
Sunset barely had any time to react when the cloaked bug threw her weapon. Sunset spun to the side, guarding with her pin. She hoped that disarming the cloaked bug would let her end this peacefully. As the cloaked bug’s weapon returned to it’s owner’s claw, Sunset acknowledged that this would be... difficult.
The cloaked bug leapt into the air and dove at Sunset, weapon aimed for her thorax. She parried, but the cloaked bug’s momentum sent them crashing to the floor. As the cloaked bug leapt off of her, Sunset struggled to ready herself for the next attack. The cloaked bug dashed towards her, weapon ready for an upwards strike. Sunset used her wings to roll to the side and get airborne once more, the wind from her foe’s attack close enough to be felt.
The cloaked bug spun around and hurled her weapon at Sunset once more, only this time she had anticipated the attack. Sunset had already dove for the ground, landing on all legs, letting the attack sail harmlessly overhead. She then pushed herself into the air once more, and swung her pin’s hook to catch the weapon by it’s ring. When she landed, Sunset turned around to point the cloaked bug’s own weapon at her.
“Now then, let’s discuss this in a civilized manner,” Sunset taunted.
The cloaked bug’s only response was to chuckle.
You are an idiot, Sunset.
The cloaked bug twirled about and heaved as if she was throwing something large over her shoulder. Sunset felt something pull at her in response, and found herself being thrown as well. She hit the floor hard, dropping both weapons. The cloaked bug then spun about, and Sunset found herself slammed into a wall. Stars filled her vision as Sunset slid to the ground, but the cloaked bug wasn’t finished with her yet. With one final spin, Sunset was pulled to the center of their arena, where she found herself suspended in midair.
Webs Sunset, she’s a spider using a needle and silk! Now how do you get rid of spiders, Sunset?
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Hornet was breathing heavily as she retrieved her needle. Swinging that moth around had taken more out of her stamina than she liked. She knew that she should not have lost her temper the way she did, but that moth’s words had cut at her more than her pin.
“In the end, your words are just that, meaningless words,” said Hornet. “You know nothing of this kingdoms past, of the trials it’s faced.”
She readied her needle, set on striking down the moth and her ‘pet’ in one blow.
“I may not have been able to prevent Hallownest’s decline, but I can stop you scavengers from destroying what remains!”
Hornet prepared to throw her needle. She took aim, lining up with both enemies, but something caught her attention.
The mask the moth wore, it’s eyes were glowing. Pinpricks of red light danced in the black holes of the mask.
Without warning, the webbing holding the moth in place burst aflame, letting her drop to the floor. Scarlet embers shot out, tracing lines that filled the chamber, almost as if they were following...
With a jolt, Hornet realized what was happening. She quickly cut the silken threads that connected her to the rest of her web before the fell fire could reach her.
It was unfortunate that she neglected to remove the thread from her own needle.
Hornet cried out as the flames lit up her body, greedily devouring the supply of silk she always kept in reserve. The heat clawed at her, threatening to consume her as well. Just when Hornet was sure she’d be burned alive, the fire cut out.
Hornet dropped to the ground, wisps of smoke drifting lazily off her prone form. She lay there dazed, while the moth slowly got back on her own feet. Hornet struggled to get up as the moth retrieved her pin.
“I don’t think... that either one of us is in any state to keep fighting,” said the moth. Her breathless tone of voice mirrored how Hornet felt. The moth began rummaging through her cloak, eventually pulling out a slightly crushed seed box.
“Well now look what you did,” the moth grumbled, “after Sly insisted I buy this burn salve, you went and smashed it.”
The moth tossed the medicine at hornet’s feet, then turned to leave, heading in the direction of Greenpath, her unnatural companion close behind.
Hornet clenched at her pin. It was like everything that moth said was meant to irritate her.
“You.. don’t think your trickery will save you next time, Outsider!” She called out.
The moth did not respond, as she was already gone.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Myla sighed in contentment as she reclined deeper in the waters of the hot spring. The warm waters soothed her nerves just as it eased the tension built up from mining. As she relaxed she was able to simply let her mind wander, and for a time, forget just why she was here. Dancing lights filled the corners of her vision as she slipped closer to dreaming, when she was suddenly jerked back to the waking world by another bug joining her.
Hornet eased herself into the healing waters across from the miner bug, the gentle warmth and natural minerals of the spring aiding the salve in soothing her burns.
The guardian’s condition was not lost on Myla. It was clear to her that Hornet had just come from a difficult fight, but Myla knew that not to pry. The Guardian of Hallownest was a solitary bug by nature.
Hornet, for her part, found Myla’s presence to be an unpleasant reminder of the moth’s biting accusations. She knew that the fate of Myla’s fellow miners was not her fault, there was nothing that could be done for them.
This did not stop Hornet from blaming herself.
“So, Myla,” Hornet spoke up, “About your fellows....”
“Hm?” Myla perked up.
Hornet wanted to tell the truth, to tell Myla to flee Hallownest before it was too late for her.
“I am... sure you will reunite with them soon.”
Not exactly a lie, but far from the whole truth.
Myla did not notice Hornet’s somber tone. She took Hornet’s reassurance at face value.
“I think I’m really c-close to breaking through,” Myla responded, “it’s like I c-can almost hear them c-calling for me through the crystals. Silly, r-right?”
“Right, silly,” Hornet agreed. Myla’s fellow miners obviously were not calling to her through the crystals. Hearing voices was simply one of the earliest symptoms.
“Oh! I had a b-bit of an adventure n-not too long ago!” Myla offered.
“Oh?” Hornet responded, hoping for a change of topic.
“I was j-just on my way to the hot spring. Simply another b-break like any other, when suddenly I f-found myself surrounded...”
Hornet simply listened as Myla wove an epic, and almost certainly heavily embellished, retelling of her most recent journey to the hot spring. Still, Myla’s tale served to illustrate one important fact; Hallownest was growing more dangerous.
“...there I was, c-cornered, ab-bout to be overwhelmed, when sud-d-denlly, out of nowhere the husks were all burned to ashes by a wave of shimmering g-golden red fire!”
That got Hornet’s attention, as did Myla’s enthusiastic description of her unexpected savior, a certain familiar moth.
“Was there another bug accompanying this moth?” Asked Hornet.
“N-no,” was Myla’s answer. “Did you meet her on the way to G-greenpath?”
So that creature with the moth kept itself hidden.
“No,” Hornet lied, thankful that Myla had not connected her injuries to the moth’s unnatural fire.
And so the two of them sat for a time in an awkward silence.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
“Oh? And what do we have here?”
The voice dragged Hornet back to the world of the waking. The first thing she saw was that Myla had left the hot spring at some point. Turning around, she saw the bug who had just spoken.
She was a dragonfly, tall and slender, with a youthful yellow shell that showed no sign of her true age. Her garments, fine silken lace, lacked any adornment other than a single brilliant red gemstone that hung as a pendant. The mask she wore was of the same pale material that the old king granted to only his most trusted retainers. Hornet herself wore one such mask, though the dragonfly’s was broader, with narrowed eyes and wider, branched horns.
“Lazing about are we?” said the Dragonfly, “Little spider, I never thought you had it in you!”
Hornet extracted herself from the healing waters.
“My apologies,” she said with a bow, “it was not my intention to fall asleep here.”
The dragonfly simply laughed. “Oh, little spider, I had no intention to chastise you.” She took a seat by hornet, the water barely passing her abdomen. “Indeed, it is important you be rested, as such opportunities to recuperate may soon be rare.”
The dragonfly looked up, to where she knew a great black ‘egg’ lay enshrined in the highest reach of the crossroads.
“Hallownest is beginning to stir once more, and forces within and without have taken notice,” she explained, “but that is not why I have come here. I have sensed something else.”
“Something else?” Hornet repeated.
“I have sensed a presence, one new to this world, and yet somehow familiar,” the Dragonfly explained. “Imagine my curiosity when following it’s trail lead me to you? Judging from your current condition, you must have had a run in with something unusual.”
“She appeared to be a moth,” Hornet answered. She told the dragonfly of her encounter with the strange moth and her fell ward, of their duel, and of her near victory. Hornet recounted the moth’s sudden conjuration of red fire, and how she gave Hornet medicine for the light burns her fire had inflicted.
“Most interesting,” the Dragonfly mused. “A moth allied with the Grimm. And you believe she may not truly be a moth at all?”
“There is an aura about her,” Hornet explained, “I can’t explain it, but she seems to radiate potential.” She thought back to their duel. “She held herself like a bug only recently granted higher thought, yet her speech was of a mind fully developed. It was like she was not yet familiar with her own body.”
“And you’re certain she simply has not recently pupated?” The dragonfly suggested.
Hornet shook he head. “Such a thing is unheard of. A bug’s familiarity with their form is instinctive, Metamorphosis is no exception.”
“And this stranger is now allied with the Grimm,” the dragonfly mused. “I know of their kind, though my memories are faded. Still, her path will likely lead her to the city soon enough. Perhaps we should await her there.”
“She will have to make her way through the fungal wastes first,” Hornet countered, “the Mantis tribe may not take kindly to her presence.”
“Perhaps only time shall tell,” the dragonfly replied, standing once more, “Come, Hornet. We should return to the city. These events will likely not go unnoticed by the sanctum.”
Author's Note
So, this ended up longer than I expected, enough to make it's own chapter. This was originally just going to be half of the Greenpath chapter.
I wanted to demonstrate two things with this chapter; first, that sunset would not be helpless in a fight, and second, she is still hopelessly outmatched against a skilled opponent. Our little moth still has much to learn
Sunset awoke sitting on an iron bench. It took a moment for her memories to catch up with why. She found the bench after her duel with the spider. Sunset had only intended to take a quick rest, but evidently she had fallen asleep instead. The Grimmchild was curled up next to her, apparently still napping. She stretched out, wincing slightly as her body protested the motion. Did bugs bruise? At the very least nothing felt cracked or broken.
Not that the first aid class you took is exactly relevant anymore.
Sunset took out her nectar seed canteen and took a drink, thankful that it had not been damaged during her duel. The rest of her supplies, assorted medicines, bandages, and resin, rested in a useless pile of broken containers and hardening slime. At least Sunset had been able to preserve her cloak. A quick flash of fire was sufficient to burn away anything stuck to it.
Prompted by Sunset’s movement, the Grimmchild stirred awake. It stretched out in an almost catlike manner and nearly rolled off the bench, only to be saved by a timely interception from Sunset. She pulled the Grimmchild over to her side and opened her map.
“All right, we’ll be searching for the first flame here in Greenpath,” she explained. “Are you able to show me where you think it could be?”
The Grimmchild thoroughly examined the map, then turned to look at Sunset. It gestured at the map with a tilt of it’s head.
The largely blank map.
Sunset sighed. “I know, I know. It’s not much, but the map store had only just moved to Dirtmouth. The maps are a work in progress.”
The Grimmchild considered Sunset’s explanation before looking over the map once more. It nodded, apparently coming to a decision. It then took off, flying a short distance ahead before turning to face Sunset expectantly.
“All right then, lead the way,” Sunset replied.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Greenpath’s name was well earned. Every surface was covered in lush growth. Moss and grass climbed the walls and hung from the tunnel roof, while patches of glowing lichen provided plentiful light. If Sunset payed close attention, she could even make out the familiar architecture of Hallownest underneath the overgrown vines.
Even some of the wildlife was covered in moss. There were small foraging bugs that looked like walking bushes, a few even flew. Most of the fauna was harmless, barely paying any attention to Sunset or the Grimmchild. There was the occasional mosquito like bug, but they were hardly a threat.
It was not long before Sunset encountered a husk. The undead bug was trapped in a pit, aimlessly pacing the length of it’s impromptu prison. A layer of moss clung to the shell of the husk like the foraging bugs, but it was greyed, dead and withered.
“I’m guessing this was one of the Mosskin then?” said Sunset as she peered over the edge. Alerted by her voice, the husk reacted predictably. It tried to lunge at Sunset, only to crash headfirst into the wall. The husk attempted to climb to her, but the mossy walls of it’s enclosure proved too slick for the corpse to grasp.
“These guys are a lot less threatening when I know to expect them,” Sunset quipped. She lit a flame and dropped it onto the husk. The dead moss covering it proved to be extra flammable.
The deed done, Sunset watched as the husk was quickly turned to charr, thankful that the fire did not spread to the surrounding moss. Once she was sure the fire had burned itself out, she moved on.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
The Grimmchild’s search kept them mostly in the ruins, but often the overgrowth proved impassible, forcing a detour through narrower, natural tunnels. The confined space seemed to press down on Sunset, and the passages were infested with mossy husks. Even the moss itself seemed hostile. One flower spat poisonous pods, another tried to eat her outright, and even when they were alone, Sunset couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Sunset was thankful when they found the road again, but the condition it was in made her pause. The cavern ahead was partially flooded. A glowing blue river flowed through the road ahead. Sections of a covered bridge rose defiantly from the waters, refusing to erode away like the surrounding ground.
Sunset cautiously approached the riverbank, the water below was steadily boiling, giving off a sour vapor that stung at her eyes and antennae. On a hunch, she tore off a piece of moss and tossed it into the river. The water immediately began frothing, and the scrap of moss rapidly turned brown, then blackened, before breaking apart completely.
“I see why Myla warned me about the water now,” said Sunset. The Grimmchild had taken to clinging to the roof, eyeing the river as if it could attack at any moment.
Thankfully, with nothing hostile in the air to stop her from doing so, Sunset could easily fly over this obstacle. This did not mean she was about to let her guard down though, the sensation of being watched had returned.
Sunset took flight, the Grimmchild following close behind. She followed above the remains of the road, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, she heard a noise, a loud rustling as if something was moving rapidly through the moss below. A dark shape burst out from the foliage, narrowly missing Sunset before crashing back into the overgrowth.
Sunset dove to the next intact section of covered bridge. Whatever hershe did not want to be caught out in the open. The sound of something crashing out of the moss behind her made Sunset immediately reconsider her plan. She dove to the side as her assailant charged past. By the time she was able to regain her footing, her foe had disappeared once more.
Sunset drew her pin, while the Grimmchild clung to her back for safety. She lit a flame in her free claw, ready to throw at a moment’s notice. This time she was able to see the creature as it leapt from the undergrowth. It’s body was a mass of moss, with two eyes glowing a sickly orange. The moss creature charged, and Sunset threw her fireball. The two collided in a burst of smoke, allowing Sunset to escape to the next bridge section.
“As if this place didn’t have enough in common with the Everfree already, it even has it’s own timberwolves,” she groaned.
The smoke cleared to show that not only did her fireball barely singe the creature’s damp mossy form, two others had joined it.
Or perhaps they’ve been there the whole time.
Sunset didn’t wait for the telltale crash this time, she simply took flight as a fourth moss creature leapt at her from behind. Not wanting to press her luck, Sunset flew down the path as fast as she could.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Just beyond the half-flooded tunnel, the path opened up once more. This time Sunset found herself in a much larger cavern. The ruins that lined the walls looked almost like seating for a theatre in the round.
Or an arena.
The only exit she could see was blocked off by a metal gate. Naturally, turning back was not an option at the moment, so Sunset flew over to investigate. The gate consisted of rusty but ornate rods that were embedded in the stone. They looked more decorative than anything.
“No obvious mechanisms,” Sunset noted. She tugged on one of the bars. It rattled loosely.
“Perhaps I can get this pried open,” she decided. She slid the hook of her pin around one of the bars. “If I can just get sufficient leverage..”
The Grimmchild screamed. Sunset immediately dropped her pin and flew straight up, and not a moment too soon. Something massive slammed into the wall surrounding the gate and scattered in multiple directions.
It was the moss creatures, (mosswolves?) Sunset counted at least six of them. They quickly regrouped, bunching up until their forms blended together to create one giant mossball.
Eyup, just like timberwolves.
Sunset stole a glance back to the gate. Her pin had been knocked through the bars and was out of reach.
This just keeps getting better.
Sunset shook her head, sarcasm wasn’t going to help her here. She needed a plan. However, the giant ‘mosswolf’ was not about to let her make one. It leapt at Sunset, forcing her to dive back to the ground. She scrambled for distance, practically climbing the mossy floor to avoid being flattened as the mosswolf crashed back down. Sunset spun around, not wanting to loose sight of her enemy, but it had already disappeared.
“Something that large has no right to be stealthy,” Sunset griped. She conjured a flame, ready to throw at the slightest hint of movement. The mosswolf’s moist body might have made burning it difficult, but a little fire was better than nothing.
The moss behind Sunset shifted, and she immediately spun around, pitching her fireball with as much strength as she could. The charging mosswolf tried to stop itself. However it’s own defensive moss, coupled with the creature’s own surprise at Sunset’s attack, forced it to slide helplessly and take the fireball head-on. At the moment of impact the mosswolf shattered, disappearing in a cloud of mossy fragments.
Despite the apparent victory, Sunset did not let her guard down. A fireball like that did hardly anything to one of the smaller mosswolves earlier. Something else was happening. Her vigilance was rewarded when the six original mosswolves charged her from the overgrowth. She took flight as the mosswolves collided where she had been standing. While they were otherwise occupied with each other, Sunset dashed back to the barred doorway.
The mosswolves’ earlier impact had dented the bars, and Sunset could see fresh cracks in the stonework. If she still had the face for it, Sunset could have given a satisfied smirk. She instead settled for a confident nod. Now she had the start of a plan.
Sunset didn’t need a warning from the Grimmchild this time. She shot into the air, letting the reassembled giant mosswolf slam into the gate once more. As it staggered back, Sunset saw that one of the bars of the gate had been nocked free. The gap was not enough for her to make an escape, but something smaller might be able to slip through.
“Do you think you can squeeze through the gate and retrieve my pin?” Sunset asked the Grimmchild. The small bug examined the gate from over her shoulder, then nodded. It readied itself to dash for the gate, but Sunset held it back.
“Not yet,” she explained, “wait until I have that creature distracted.” The mosswolf had already refocused on Sunset, its bright orange eyes glaring at her with a murderous look that seemed out of place on a feral beast.
This aggression is clearly not natural, and the light in it’s eyes matches that of the husks.
Sunset filed the thought away to ponder some other time. Right now, she needed to focus on survival. As Sunset lit a flame in each claw, the mosswolf’s gaze was drawn to the golden light. Following a hunch, Sunset threw one fireball at the mosswolf, and immediately hurled the other to the far end of the arena. The creature reacted as Sunset predicted; it leapt back to avoid the first fireball, which gave Sunset the chance to dash out its line of sight. Hiding herself among a cluster of vines, Sunset watched as the mosswolf’s attention was drawn to the bright flames on the far end of the arena.
“Go now!” Sunset instructed. The Grimmchild nodded. As it dove for the doorway, Sunset shifted her focus back to the mosswolf. The creature had smothered the second fireball and was already searching for her. Sunset noted that the creature neglected to look directly above itself.
Either it’s not able to look up, or not intelligent enough to try, Sunset realized.
Sparing a glance back to the Grimmchild, Sunset saw it wiggling through the gap in the doorway. She needed to buy it just a bit more time.
Sunset swung her claw, a stream of fire lashing out to wash over the mosswolf. It did little to harm the creature, but she did get its attention away from the Grimmchild. The mosswolf’s response was to dive back into the overgrowth, no doubt to attack Sunset where her guard was weakest. However, she had no desire to let that happen. Sunset readied another flame. She focused her thoughts, willing the embers she held to burn hotter. Flickers of red bled into the golden fire as its heat rose.
The moss on the cavern’s roof burst apart as the mosswolf tackled Sunset from above. She grunted in pain as she felt her body compress from the impact. Her focus broke, and with it, her control of the flame.
The resulting blast tore apart the mosswolf’s form. Sunset was knocked to the ground, where the overgrowth did little to soften the landing. Through her daze, she was vaguely aware of other bugs landing around her. She watched one land in front of her; a small round thing with a flat face. It quickly righted itself and started digging into the moss. Sunset could hear the others doing the same. In no time the bug had gathered enough moss to give itself a familiar shape.
So that’s how they do it.
Sunset struggled to push herself up before the mosswolves could finish gathering new protective coats, but her body protested the movement. Her vision swirled and she fell to the side. She could feel the mosswolves surrounding her, preparing to finish her off.
Stupid! Even when seeing that they don’t look up, you forget it too? Now look what’s happened.
Sunset tried to summon a flame, a spark, anything, but to her frustration, she couldn’t focus through the spinning in her head. The moss beneath her began to smolder, but it stubbornly refused to ignite. Sunset saw the mosswolves hesitate, buying her a few precious moments, but it wasn’t enough. The lead mosswolf tensed, preparing to strike...
“Ka-SAA!”
...and was struck down, run through by a longnail. The nail’s wielder was a rather plain looking bug, but his stance was one of a seasoned fighter. As he withdrew his nail from the mosswolf’s collapsing carcass, the bug swiftly turned to face the rest of the pack, ready to strike any bug that still showed hostile intent. Thankfully for the remaining pack, survival won out over aggression and they quickly retreated.
Sunset felt a wash of relief, followed by exhaustion. As her vision blacked out, she saw her rescuer kneel down to her. He said something, but Sunset could barely hear a word as unconsciousness finally claimed her.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
She wandered the darkened tunnels, lost. Light flickered from around the bend ahead, only to vanish when she turned the corner. Sunset broke out into a trot. Her hooves clipping along the stone echoed through the tunnels. Yet the faster she ran, the light ahead of her seemed to get further and further away. Galloping, Sunset ran as fast as she could, until he ground seemed to break away beneath her. She tried to spread her wings, let the wind catch her, but...
Now why would a Unicorn pony expect themselves to have wings?
It was her voice, but she hadn't spoken. The darkness below seemed to surround her. It shifted, rising up to blot out the light above. Her light...
Not that you ever did anything worthy of that light. Poor, poor Sunset, always falling short of everypony's expectations. You couldn't even fight off a walking bush.
Sunset strained, trying to call on her magic to se herself. All she managed to muster were a few golden sparks.
Just give up, it's all you're good for anyway.
No, I refuse!
Sunset reached further, forcing the magic within her to OBEY. The sparks became flames, and sunset's wings finally caught at the air. She began to ascend, the darkness around her receding.
Come now, do you really think that will be enough?
A red streak of fire tore through the air above her, forcing Sunset to dodge. However, she found herself surrounded. The red flames circled her, cutting off any escape. A mask peered out of the fire, red eyes glaring at her.
You don't have the will to stand your ground unless you are certain of success. At the first sign of adversity, you flee. Look what happened when you could no longer run, your efforts to escape proved your undoing.
I'll get stronger, I won't let myself loose again!
We shall see...
The mask tore through her, shattering her wings like glass.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Sunset snapped awake with a yelp, lurching foreword and scattering moss that had served as makeshift bedding. She was breathing heavily, her heart’s pounding echoing in her head.
“Oh finally awake are we?”
Following the voice, Sunset turned to see a bug sitting by the wall. After a moment of confusion, she recognized him as the bug that came to her rescue. Simple really was the the best way to describe his appearance. His mask was a simple rounded piece with two holes for the eyes, and his only other attire was a flat, teardrop-shaped hat.
To the side, Sunset saw her cloak, neatly folded with her mask and pin laying on top. This naturally drew her attention back to herself. Her thorax was wrapped in light blue bandages. They smelled sweet, likely treated with some sort of medicine. Clearly her host had been busy.
“How are you feeling?” The bug asked.
Sunset stretched out, feeling her body as it moved. There was no pain, she even felt better than she did after her duel with the spider.
“I feel much better,” Sunset admitted. “Thank you.”
The bug relaxed at the news. “That’s good to hear,” he said. “I knew moss chargers could be territorial, but I never thought they were so aggressive!”
Sunset thought back to the orange light that glowed within the eyes of the mosswolves, or rather, moss chargers. It was the same sickly light that permeated the undead husks.
“I don’t believe their aggression was natural.” Sunset replied. “They pursued me well past where I first encountered them.”
The bug nodded in agreement. “Many strange things seem to be happening in these tunnels as of late,” he said, “but where are my manners? I am called Quirrel.”
Sunset paused, hesitant to give her name in return. However, gratitude quickly won out.
“Sunset Shimmer.”
Quirrel hummed curiously. “An odd name, though I can’t say I’ve ever met a moth before. What about your strange little friend over there?” Quirrel pointed.
Sunset followed Quirrel’s claw to see the Grimmchild duck out of sight.
“Quite the shy one, isn’t it?” He mused.
“It’s a long story,” Sunset admitted.
Quirrel paused, before giving a shrug of resignation. “I suppose it not my place to pry.”
Sunset decided to change the subject.
“The last traveler we met attacked us without warning, so I imagine they’re a little on-edge right now.” She explained.
“Red robes, horned mask, and carrying an oversized needle?” asked Quirrel.
Sunset nodded, “You met her too then.”
“She greeted my arrival at Hallownest with the blade of her needle,” Quirrel confirmed, “Not the best first impression if you ask me.”
There was a moment of silence as the conversation died off.
“So, Sunset. What brings you to Hallownest?” asked Quirrel.
“Nothing in particular,” she replied hesitantly. “I was a student under someone important, got into an argument with my teacher, ran away, and before I knew it, I was here.”
Quirrel hummed as he considered Sunset’s brief summary. She wondered for a moment if he didn’t believe her, even if it was the truth.
“It must have been quite the disagreement,” Quirrel guessed.
Sunset sighed. “It doesn’t really matter anymore. I just need to focus on the here and now.”
“Well, for the now, you seem well enough to travel,” said Quirrel. He paused to pass Sunset her cloak, pin, and mask. “Prepare yourself, and keep that pin of yours at the ready.”
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
“Wait, we’re back here?”
Sunset was surprised that they had been camped so close to the arena. There was no sign of any moss chargers, but given how easily they could hide, that only put her more on edge.
“I don’t fancy my chances at crossing that river back there without wings of my own,” said Quirrel. “Which makes this the safer path.”
Sunset looked over to the doorway at the other end of the arena. The the bars that once blocked the way out had all been knocked free, no doubt by Quirrel. All it would take was a quick dash across the arena, and the three of them would be free to continue their travels.
Quirrel took the lead, dropping into the arena and heading straight for the exit, with Sunset close behind, and the Grimmchild nestled snugly in the hood of her cloak.
They did not make it far.
The moss beneath Quirrel erupted, a moss charger leaping out to engulf him. Sunset flew back, away from the attack. A nudge from the Grimmchild prompted her to gain height just as two more moss chargers crashed together below her.
The first moss charger was suddenly cleaved in half, Quirrel appearing behind it no worse for wear. The bug within plopped to the ground and scampered away, quickly diving beneath the moss once more.
Sunset dove for the doorway, only for Quirrel to snatch her out of the air.
“And where do you think you’re going?” He asked coyly. He spun around to deflect another moss charger that tried to take advantage of the conversation. “If we run now, they’ll only pursue us ceaselessly. We must stand our ground here and drive them off.”
Sunset knew Quirrel had a valid point. These moss chargers were relentless. One dove at her from the wall, while another leapt up from below. Reacting quickly, Sunset jumped back into air. Striking the lower charger with her pin, she was able to knock it back to the ground, while also propelling herself even higher to avoid the other. Sunset was dismayed to see that unlike Quirrel’s attack, her strike failed to even dent the moss charger’s outer coat.
Sunset groaned in frustration. “I can barely even scratch these things!” She ducked under another charger, slashing at it’s moss as it sailed by, but her pin simply passed between the strands.
“If you are unable to break through an enemy’s defense, seek to bypass it!” Quirrel suggested. He leapt out of the way of another tackle, and countered with a pointed strike so fast Sunset barely saw his nail move. The moss charger burst apart, but the bug within was able to escape Quirrel’s nail.
“Although these rascals are being quite evasive as well,” he admitted.
Sunset’s focus sharpened. Quirrel can cut through the moss, but the bug inside can easily escape him. She somersaulted over another moss charger, not bothering to counter this time. I can’t break through the moss, so they don’t need to try and avoid me. Sunset braced herself, ready for another attack. It’s not the moss that’s dangerous, it’s the bug inside. She flipped her pin around, brining the hooked end foreword.
THERE!
A single moss charger leapt at Sunset head-on. This time, she didn’t dodge. Sunset swung her hookpin up into the moss. She felt the hook snag on something, and pulled with all her might. The moss charger slammed into the ground, it’s outer coat bursting from the impact. Sunset followed up by thrusting out her claw and casting a stream of fire. The unlucky bug was quickly toasted at point blank.
Th deed done, Sunset let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. She stepped back and looked around. The other moss chargers had all halted their attack. Sunset counted five that she could see.
There were six before, Sunset recalled. Quirrel killed one, and I just roasted another.
So why are there five now?
“Ah, well,” said Quirrel. “An effective strategy, but now I see why the moss chargers were so agitated before.”
Sunset saw something moving through the moss. More moss chargers were emerging, their orange eyes glowing with a sickly fury.
“They have a rather excessive dislike of fire,” Quirrel explained.
Well buck.
The moss chargers leapt. Sunset dashed away, barely avoiding being buried under the swarm. Looking back, she saw the mass begin to twist and weave into a single whole.
“Ok, I think running looks like the best plan after all,” said Sunset. She ran for the doorway with Quirrel close behind.
“At the very least they won’t be able to follow us in that state,” he reasoned. “They’l have to separate to enter the tunnels.”
Entering the tunnel, Sunset gave the walls a quick scan. The tunnel was made from rough cut stone blocks. They were heavily cracked, either from age, or the chargers’ earlier assault, it didn’t particularly matter. A tremendous impact shook the tunnel, casting out a small cascade of dust. Sunset turned to see the moss titan backing up for another strike.
“You know what Quirrel?” Sunset asked confidently. “I don’t think we’ll need to worry about being followed.”
Sunset drove the point of her pin into the cracks of a brick in the tunnel roof, and pulled. The worn stone crumbled, and the surrounding bricks sagged. Sunset began to run just as the moss titan slammed into the doorway again.
This time, the effect was far more dramatic. First, a few bricks were shaken loose, followed by larger stones. It wasn’t long before an entire section of the tunnel had caved in behind them.
...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...---...
Once the dust had settled, Sunset and Quirrel found themselves back in the natural caverns. By silent agreement, the two of them settled down for a rest. The Grimmchild remained safely tucked away in Sunset’s hood, from where it kept a steady watch on the collapsed tunnel.
“Well now, that was certainly more than enough excitement for this excursion, especially at my age,” said Quirrel, breaking the silence. “I think I’ll head back up to Dirtmouth for now.”
“Wait, at your age?” asked Sunset. “You don’t look that old at all!”
Quirrel simply laughed. “I take very good care of myself,” he explained. “What about you two?”
“We’re haven’t yet found what we’re looking for,” Sunset admitted.
“Long story?” guessed Quirrel.
Sunset only nodded.
With an exaggerated sigh, Quirrel got to his feet. “I guess this is where we part ways then,” he said. “Fortunately, I believe we’ve left the most dangerous part of Greenpath behind us. Stay safe, Sunset Shimmer.”
With a wave, Quirrel leapt for an opening in the ceiling and disappeared from sight.
Oddly agile for an old bug, Sunset thought.
Author's Note
HELLO EVERYONE!!!
Been a while, hasn't it? What can I say, the holidays were busy for me. On top of that, I had a surprisingly difficult time writing for the moss charger, of all things. this chapter went through several rewrites before I got what felt like an interesting battle without breaking it's character. Which is hard for something that only has ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK in it's actions. Too often I left it idling for too long, or pulling off attacks that just didn't fit it.
It may be the easiest boss in the game, but Sunset is only mortal, unlike some other denizens of Hallownest. At Canterlot high, she was the big fish in the small pond. Here, she's floundering, and the sharks can smell blood in the water..
A big thank you to everyone who's favorited this since the last chapter. Especially the loudmouth with that talking snail. You're what got me writing this story to begin with. As long as I know I'm still getting readers, I see no reason to stop. It may be slow, but I'm not giving up so soon.
