Of Blood And Legend

Tears streamed down Midnight's face as she aimlessly marched down the street, hood pulled up tight against the cold and head down as she went. What the Tartarus was she doing? She had to go back, had to go help her brother. Her hooves carried her forward, regardless.

A deep, dark part of her mind couldn't help but ask, "Help with what?" Indeed, he was minutes, if not seconds, away from death when she left. There was no way she could stem the bleeding; the most she could have done was call her parents to the scene.

And let that be the last time they saw her brother? Scar them with the sight of the light fading from his eyes and the wails of her tearful apologies? No. She refused to ruin his... memory like that for them.

Her gaze caught a puddle as she passed, tear-stained face reflected in its surface. Midnight's eyes snapped away from her own image, disgust worming it's way up.

This was a nightmare, that's it! Midnight probably was still sleeping back home, and this was all but a dream brought on by her transformation. Steeling herself, she stopped, eyes shutting. Slowly, she brought one of her fangs to bear against the inside of her cheek, shuddering at the vile ease at which it cleaved through her own flesh. Stabbing pain blossomed as she did so, dark blood dripping onto the cobblestone below.

Another choked cry escaped her. Maybe, just maybe... she could pretend she was out all day and didn't see anything happen? Pretend that a rogue-

Midnight whinged at the mere idea. There's no way she could keep the truth from them; it'd tear her apart inside, and it'd destroy them anew when she broke. She couldn't even imagine how she'd respond if she had foals, and one of them committed fratricide.

Perhaps... perhaps if she just disappeared? Her gut soured as she squirmed. It would hurt her plenty, sure, but...

One family member dead and the other missing or one family member dead at the hooves of another? She knew which one would pain her more. It wouldn't hurt her parents as bad in the long run, and they were the ones that deserved to be happy. She had to find her love.

He'd know what to do, how to help her. Sure, she had never gone down south before and had hardly any idea of how to reach Canterlot, but what else could she do? It wasn't as if any line would adopt a vampire from a defunct line as their own, either, besides maybe as an eternal servant. Perhaps she might never see her family again if all went to plan, but she wouldn't hurt them any more than she already did.

A bit of hope flashed through her as she remembered Gold Boon. He was heading back down south soon. Perhaps... he would let her tag along? She would have to work on the way and pay him for the supplies, obviously no such thing as a free ride, but she would eventually get down there. Doubt crept forth as she thought of attacking him too. What if she couldn't help herself? She couldn't do that to him, either, especially after how he helped her.

Actually, Heart Weaver never snapped like that, right? Surely that means that it is quite possible to control oneself. Maybe it was because she hadn't fed recently? That, at least, was something she could manage. Not as if she had much of a choice, Midnight was reasonably sure she would be doomed in one manner or another if she travelled alone.

She shuffled her way through the winding streets between the now looming buildings, making her way to the small river that ran through the river. Sooner than she would have liked, she found her way to the shores.

Taking a deep breath, she dunked her head under the cold water, washing away both tear stains and blood alike. Several seconds later, she came back up and dried herself on the hood of her cloak. Though, the mare's eyes drifted across the river again and again to the places she would never return to. The smithy with the nice stallion that gave her her first job, cleaning up scraps. The warehouse she and her brother used to sneak into to move things around to mess with the owner. Even the haberdashery, where she met her love by pure coincidence.

She shook her head and tossed aside the momentary nostalgia like a husk... But she couldn't help but glance across the river at the familiar sights as she strolled slowly by the water's edge. Now, where was Gold Boon staying? He said he was heading back south come nightfall, right? Gold Boon was probably waking soon to prepare, so she didn't have too much time to spare. Now, he was probably heading out by the south-eastern gate, so she could just lurk around there, although that would create a far higher risk of her being seen, with everypony finally waking up around then. Hmmph. There were only a few places around that had room for a cart like his. Perhaps The Ol' Shadow, Journey's Middle or The Barley Pipe? She can only imagine that he'd grab a place somewhere between the gate they arrived through and the gate from which he was leaving. The only thing she could do to track him down was to go from business to business, checking for his cart.

With a measure of composure restored, she strode away from the river; Midnight had a much more subtle path than stomping her goliath self up and down the river by the river where everyone could see her, covered in a cloak or not. Instead, she took to the dingy side roads, not fully lit even during the day.

It might not have been the most familiar section of the city, but she pushed on, ignoring the discarded trash and broken glass around her hooves. Midnight also managed to shut out the sounds of rowdy thestrals either starting their drinking before sundown or had yet to stop from sunup, coming from a nearby pub, although it was travail. Were things always this grimy down this way? With each step through the shaded street, she couldn't help but feel like she was intruding on the citizens sleeping on all sides of her with her mere presence, an outsider slinking through their ranks.

Somewhere, a cat yowled, and Midnight flinched, thinking for the briefest of moments that her parents had discovered the state of the room back home. The rational part of her mind insisted that there was no way she could hear something that far away and that it was too early anyhow... But there was still the part of her that could feel her mother's screams rattling her bones.

Noticing that she was coming up to Twelfth Street, Midnight knew she was near The Ol' Shadow. Now, this wasn't the route that she would typically take, but she quickly strode across the empty street, ducking into an alley on the other side nonetheless, careful to control her pace, fast, but not a proper run. She had learned from her brother that it's vital to look like you're busy, not like you're being chased.

She could very well be soon enough, she reminded herself, were she was to dawdle or even make one ill-timed mistake. Vampires generally enjoyed... some protection from what one might be typically be punished for, but for murder, especially without the backing of a powerful House? Not a snowball's chance in Tartarus.

"Now, what do we have 'ere?" a voice slurred from behind her, and Midnight froze. It was a mixed blessing, of a sort; on one hoof, she didn't have to worry about whoever this stallion recognized her; on the other... well, the drunken tinge was not comforting in the least. "I don' know what ya heard, but I own this here alley, nopony passes this way without paying the tax," the pony said.

Slowly, as to not agitate the pony any more than he already was, Midnight spun around to face him, merely asking, "Tax?" It was immediately apparent that he was a lush, pure and simple. The scent of booze was clear as crystal on his breath, and he had to lean against the building beside him to stand without tipping over.

"Oh, bugger, you're a mare? What'd they feed you to get you so damn big, dragons?" he joked, even though the jovial tone rang false, "Doesn't get you out of the tax, though. Pay up."

Midnight was reasonably sure she could toss him up onto a rooftop and leave him up there to sober up, yet, something about this whole... situation made her fur stand on end. Still, perhaps she better play along for now? "What, exactly, is the tax to use of this alley?" she questioned, looking him up and down for any hint of concealed danger, perhaps a knife, although she spotted none. A cursory look over her shoulder and towards the rooftops revealed no waiting assailants for her either. He was well and truly alone.

"Not much, lass, not much," the thestral muttered, although something felt off to Midnight as he spoke, a low, unfamiliar hum just on the edge of her hearing droned quietly, "See, I don' want any coin. Just... give me some thanks, yeah? I work hard to keep this place nice and clean."

Midnight glanced left at the pile of half-rotted, discarded wood, then glanced right at the shredded cloth that the stallion was presumably napping on until she disturbed him. "Right," she said, inadvertently drawing out the R as she suspiciously eyed him, "Thanks, I guess." The hum faded, and her blood froze in her veins. Was he a vampire too? Since her youth, she heard tales of the Line of Elder Shining Charm, how they could take your mind with a glance... was this what it felt like when you were resistant? Could there have been a House dancing her whole town on strings in the absence of others to stop them out here?

He harumphed, giving her a, "And don't you forget it!" as Midnight turned to leave, only breaking her line of sight towards the stallion when she had backed up far enough to head down the street.

"Well, he's bloody weird," Midnight mumbled to herself, now just... slightly turned around, having to quickly reorient herself on the way to The Ol' Shadow. She was perhaps two blocks away now, and the rest of the trip was, thankfully, relatively uneventful... but that only gave time for traitorous thoughts to fester. If he was a vampire, and in her mind, there was little doubt as to that fact, did he know that she was an outsider, a potential enemy, a foreigner in her own home? She shivered, all the more reason to flee before anything could come of it.

Finally, while staring at the old wooden siding of the building from the shadows of the alleyway, Midnight remembered that the staff there would likely recognize her from previous visits. Silently, Midnight cursed her choice of hangouts, and especially the times she kept on hitting on that cute stallion when he was behind the counter. A mournful sigh slipped from her before she shook herself free, having no time to waste on pointless reminiscing for simpler days long gone. Creeping up towards the building, she slinked around to the locked stalls attached to the side, presumably where merchants stored their carts when they were heading through. She honestly had never been in the stalls herself, but she's definitely seen plenty of travelling traders here. Plus, where else could they keep them? It wasn't as if the inn seemed like it had the budget for a huge basement and a hatch.

Now, she thought, as she stared at the lock, what the Tartarus did she do now?

She didn't know how to pick locks, for one. Second, while she could probably force the old looking, rusted thing, she didn't fancy the amount of noise it would make. Third... perhaps she could pull a trick her beloved had shown her?

As her beloved described, she took several deep, slow breaths in and out, mentally reaching inside for... something, she wasn't sure what. Midnight was told that it was something like when you actively try to use your innate magic for the first time, rather than just acting on it instinctively, but who remembers things from when they were that young?

Midnight focused, eyes shutting as she turned her gaze inward, feeling naught but a deep void that threatened to consume her. She felt like a hollow mare, a mere shell animated by a refusal to die more than a powerful predator of the night.

The mare frowned, eyes snapping open as she eyed up the lock with a mixture of disdain and anger as she backed up. Hmmph. Say, now that she thought of it, that roof was looking rather old...

Midnight's wings spread wide, and a pair of powerful flaps propelled her through the air, freezing as the roof creaked loudly as the old wood struggled against her weight.

Midnight held stock still, half expecting to hear the shuffling of hoofsteps or a shouted question, ears twitching every which way as an unsettled shiver crept its way up her spine as if a thousand eyes were staring out from every crack. Watching. Judging. Waiting to tell her parents exactly what she was up to so they can put together the pieces.

She took a deep breath to dispel the tension, eyes scanning over the roof before finally seeing what she was looking for: a small gap between the planks.

Each step stretched into eternity with every single near-deafening creak, treacherous ground threatening to give way from under her with every single stride. A shadow flitted at the corner of her gaze. Without hesitation, Midnight whipped around in a second, eyes locking forward. It was only a drape. It was a drape from a damnable open window caught in a breeze. For a few moments, relief washed through her until, at least, that Midnight noticed how she was standing. Her wings were unfurled, ready to propel her through the air. Her stance was low and wide, the energy of a bounce barely maintained. And, perhaps worst of all, her lips were split in an animalistic snarl, fangs bared.

She fell on her rump, care about noise long forgotten, as her jaw dropped open, and her nose scrunched up. Was she really ready to... Her thoughts trailed off into the ether as she attempted to block out the mere idea. What was wrong with her? This just wasn't her— the sound of grumbling and a few hoofsteps came from the building, barely on the edge of her hearing. Surging against the roof, she almost smashed her face against the planks in her haste; in response, heard the steps pause for a moment before getting faster, hooves shaking as she frantically looked around between four merchant carts she could spot from her vantage. No, no, no. She couldn't see everything. There had to be more than that, right?

What if it was there, just out of vision, what if she lost her chance- Without thinking, she pulled herself up and drew her a hoof back, bringing it down with a deafening crack.

The plank splintered and broke under her, snapping in two with a loud crack. A proper shout went up from the inside, then, as Midnight stuck her head properly inside to look around, spotting... nothing that looked even vaguely like Gold Boon's cart among the six in there.

Mumbling to herself to hurry, Midnight heard the heavy lock on the front door of the inn unlatch, withdrawing from below and dashing in the other direction, wings flaring once more as she made to hop down and- too fast!

She impacted the adjacent building hard as she underestimated the force of her launch, tumbling onto the ground with a cry, a pop resounding from the base of one of her wings as she dropped to the ground, saddlebags spilling some of their contents on the wayside. She stared back, eyes momentarily resting on her survival tools and the bag of silver coins. The almost entirely empty bag of coins, missing a myriad of what she swore she packed. Her thoughts drifted back to the pony she met in the alley earlier. Without further study, she stuffed everything back roughly and sprinted off, the calls of a stallion rapidly lost in the distance behind her as her long legs carried her through the back pathways. By far, she outpaced her pursuer as she disappeared, rushing back towards the way she came. He wasn't a vampire. Sure, she couldn't explain how he took her money, but there was no chance in Tartarus that a House would let a member fall on such hard times that they had to steal to survive; it just wouldn't project a strong image.

Soon enough, she was back at the alleyway where the mysterious pony was prior. Prior, meaning there was nopony there, naught but a few scraps of rubbish left behind. If she didn't have the moons for it, she wouldn't be able to pay her way, and if she wasn't able to pay her way...

The hostile stench of cheap booze burned her nostrils as she examined his resting spot, trying to find something, anything that told her where he went! She cursed to herself, barely catching a glimpse of a new looking hoofprint off to the side— that way.

Midnight stared hard at them, eyes struggling to pick the following hoofprints left by bits of mud stuck to his hooves... but they were present, albeit barely. Out from the alley, back onto eleventh, then the hoof prints disappeared down to the right. Odds are he didn't fly off, Midnight figured; he was far too drunk looking to actually get anywhere like that without being dumped into the river. So, odds are he was following the road, at the very least. What was down that way... He probably wasn't going to the clothier nearby, nor the smithery, but there was a pub! Was he-

Midnight hissed as she simmered over, her pace picking up into a gallop as she sprinted down the road, paranoia over being spotted forgotten as she ran through the early morning light. Blocks went by under her long stride, Midnight following along on her hunch, air screaming by her as her eyes darted down every side road, looking off the main path.

There. Down there, next street over, was the drunkard from earlier, stumbling down the road. Using a wing to brake, Midnight turned hard, careening towards the disgusting whelp with a wicked grin on her face. He barely had the time to let out a yelp as she barrelled into him, laying him out on his back, gagging him with a hoof as she dragged him over the cobblestone into the alleyway as he flailed.

"Where's my money? Where is it, where is it!" Midnight half-shouted, growling ferally as she threw him against the wall, knocking the air out of the comparatively small stallion. Coughing, he fought to get up, side against the wall as he stumbled to the side, only to have Midnight's foreleg crash into his neck, pinning him violently in place.

"Where is it?" she spat, snarl inches away from the terrified pony's face. The stallion's hooves shot up to Midnight's foreleg, a vain attempt to remove it, causing her to redouble the pressure... before a cold dread wormed up through the caldera of rage as he struggled dearly to get air. She could feel his windpipe deform under her forearm; were she to press just a bit harder, it would doubtlessly collapse. Nevermind merely hearing Midnight could feel his pulse, a frantic rap tap of adrenaline-fueled terror that only served to make her involuntarily drool as he struggled. Her fury fell silent as he writhed under her grip, and although she was not letting him go, Midnight let up enough to not suffocate him or tempt her further.

"Look," she said, much more quietly now, "I'm just asking for my money back. That's all I want." Was she really about to dash him over the stones? She glanced over his pathetic form, realizing that she could see his ribs on his heaving sides, and guilt came next. Odds are the poor bastard was trying to get his next meal; perhaps she could leave him a coin or two as an apology for the strangulation?

His eyes were still wide as she snapped out of her musing, sucking down large heaves of breath to replace the dead air. Midnight gave him time to recover, not rushing him before ultimately asking, "Please, just give me back what you took." Midnight suppressed a shiver. What would happen if he said no? Would she be able to hold herself back if she got angry again? She could almost taste his fragile little neck, fleshing tearing like paper and-

"I- I swear, it was her idea!" he half sobbed, and Midnight shifted to let the pressure off a bit more.

"Her's?" Midnight asked, keeping her tone level and quiet.

"Yeah, yeah, it was that unicorn's plan! She came to me first, you see, levitated the bits right out of your bag while I distracted ya, before givin' me my take," he hurriedly babbled, pinprick eyes gazing up at her as Midnight mulled it over.

"A unicorn," she mouthed, thinking it over. She had tales of them... and of the fact that almost every single one of them was capable of moving objects with their minds. It made too much sense to ignore; that had to have been the sound that she heard. She had been played like a damn fool. "And where's your portion of my money?"

Flinching, the stallion reached into one of the pockets on his tattered coat and spilled a pile of steel stars and a scant few silvered moons on the cobble. Blast. That was only perhaps a third of it, and Midnight doubted that he had time to spend any lest he stopped for food on his way over.

She scooped them up with a wing, maintaining eye contact the entire time, before dumping most of them back into her bag... and then she dropped a hoof-full of stars onto the ground back into his pocket. "There. Now show me where this unicorn is," the vampire said, forcing a less sinister smile.

While the stallion was looking between her and the pocket in disbelief, Midnight released him. As he slowly regained his bearings Midnight said, "Please, don't try to run. I'll leave you be after I find her."

"We met by a store nearby. I think the lass needed extra moons for an order? She didn't tell me too much, but she was staring at it all weird before I showed up," he said; Midnight's gentle ministrations seemed to have sobered him up somewhat, drunken tinge far less present. Now, where could she have been? There was only one store nearby that Midnight could think of that could have been open this late... she remembered that the ponies there cut down on the overlap between the two shifts to be open late into the night to catch more travellers plus late shift traffic. The name escaped her, but she knew the place!

"Show me," was her only response, in case she was wrong, a toss of her head pointing towards the entrance of the alley.

A quick fear-filled glance towards her, and he complied, trudging along in precisely the direction she thought with her not far behind... although not before she tossed the hood of her cloak back up, having fallen at some point during the scuffle.

The trip commenced, tense silence reigning between the two as he tossed the occasional glance her way as they hurried along, apparently eager to be rid of her as soon as possible. Her head was kept low, and soon enough, they were in sight of the shop.

Wait.

That was Gold Boon's cart out in front.

And there he was.

Talking with a unicorn mare.