Verve

Fully regrouped, soaked, and still shaken - the dark of the clouds made the once dim swamp nearly black, even in the sun. At night, it would be as black as pitch, but thankfully they had a pony available that could, and did, prevent that.

Vee was not happy. If there were places to walk, she would flap her way down. If there was a duty to be done, she would dive for the clouds and make it there. But with soaking wet wings, and no signs of an end to the rain, she had to clop along the grime with the rest of the party. Pumpkin, once again, had to bounce along the path to keep afloat. Strange how her magic worked.

“You know what? I used to say to all of my subjects that I loved every region equally; from windy tundra to dry desert. That is now a lie. If Nightmare Moon wasn’t there, the moon would have been better than this,” Celestia huffed, a hoof smacking at a mosquito on her neck. The minor distraction was enough for her to not notice the puddle in front of her - her other leg sinking into the muck. All the way down to her chest. Again. It wasn’t even the same leg as last time! And that leg was still dirty, too.

When Arin helped pull his frustrated lover free, the morning mare grimaced - a fat leach sucked tightly to her leg, wiggling in a disgusting feast. Arin knocked it off with a quick pluck of his fingers, tossing it as hard as he could into the woods.

“I hate this. I hate every bit of this. I hate all of this. I’m going to order every swamp burnt to the ground and replaced with beaches and resorts the moment we slay Nightmare Moon. I don’t care about the ecological damage. They’re all cesspools filled with dangerous wildlife and disgusting smells.”

“That would be a gross misuse of your power. Unfortunately, I entirely agree.” Tempest spat at the air, as she crossed through a spider web. “I hate spiders.”

Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of her problems. She froze in place, her irises turning to pin pricks as she felt skittering legs darting along her neck. Pumpkin, spotting this - cleanly whacked the overly large spider to the floor with her hat. Tempest bucked her legs and nickered, stomping her hooves rapidly to knock any other creepy crawlies off before they could explore.

“T-Thank you, Pumpkin,” she eventually breathed, the small panic attack ending.

“Are you um… that afraid of them?” Pumpkin asked, eyebrows knitting in worry.

“I am afraid of nothing but spiders. Even an Ursa Minor doesn't frighten me as much, and I have reason to be afraid of those.”

“D’ohoho! I’m afraid of sleep, coffee-less mornings, and bleeding! But certainly not spiders. They’re good in chunky potions that taste like this swamp.” Vee took her wet wings as a chance to preen out the sick from the lake. She really needed a bath, but there were no bird pools nearby. All of this was terrible for the feathers! Bad, bad news.

“Antivenoms and p-perception potions, right Sis?” Pumpkin smiled, keen on her learning. The Purple nodded.

“And balancing brews, Small-fry! Great for tight rope walkers. Circuses used to keep big ol’ arachnids on hoof, in the old days, for a show and supplies. Some even weaved the big top tents out of their webs! Sturdy stuff. Flammable, but sturdy! Hmhmhm.” By now, Tempest had enough of the witch talk; it was one thing to have a spider crawling over her, but thinking of drinking one made her sick.

“We need to find a safe place to camp soon, I’m… Wait. Does anypony else hear that?” Celestia stopped in her tracks, ears swiveling to the forest. Actually, Arin heard that too - and looked with his keen eyes to the thick brush all around.

“...Music?” he said quietly. Tempest raised a hoof, thinking.

“Fairgrounds music. Was there really a Carnival? It wasn’t just some… undead trick?” The Unicorn frowned, turning towards the source of the music.

“Since Copse Vale was situated in the bottom of a basin, it’s likely that the event grounds were in the next open field, or where a logging operation likely occurred. Which they’d want to be uphill, to make it easier to transport lumber down to the town.” Celestia offered, using her long lived knowledge of her civilization to their advantage.

“Think it still runs, then, or is this another trap?” Arin asked.

“Definitely a trap. Trust nothing here,” Tempest stated. “We were naive to give the Ferry a chance, I won’t risk my life over a pointless investigation.”

“Well, we may have to pass through, regardless. If you didn’t notice on the lake, there’s more looming mountains to the West - and with all this gear, it’s not likely we’ll be able to fly over them. And this sound… it’s definitely coming from where we’re headed. Which makes the most sense; if there was a logging operation, it would be closer to the taller mountain. It could also serve as a mining site, as well, doubling productivity,” the Princess offered.

Celestia braced herself, breathing in deep. “At the very least, there should be solid ground somewhere ahead. And possibly, a river of some sort. I’m desperate for a wash. And these short robes chafe fiercely when wet.”

She flicked her mud-stained long legs, holding her staff under her massive, water-drenched wing. Indeed, her rose-gold colored chest hugged tightly to knee height robes, flooded with water and still actively dripping. A campfire would do them good.

The former Commander didn’t like her orders being questioned; they could tread quickly around whatever distraction lay before them, but Celestia - the now annoying Princess, wouldn’t let her have it. With a sigh, she finally gave in.

“Then we have no choice. We can’t gallop around this mess, either - the Lunar magic is closing in. Be ready to run, be ready to fight. Weapons at the ready.” Tempest took point, the group spearheading into the muck. The brush was thick with stickers and thorns, but their armor did well to shrug it off. Pumpkin bounced over the ferns lining the ground, before ducking to avoid thick, untamed black vines that hung plentiful from the trees around them.

The sound of Carnival music loomed in the shadows, faint lights bursting through leaves in jovial flair. Each inch gained rewarded them with another daunting note to the tune, thickets cleaved and untamed land crossed.

Finally, the group burst through into a grassy field of sorts, dozens of tree stumps poking free of the ground. The mountains were now oh so close, yet they now stood in a massive huddle of tents, rings, and fair food smells. The lights dazzled them in the dimness of the clouds, the talk of bustling crowds of ponies enjoying the festivities unbothered by the endless rain rampant. It almost felt surreal, like they were displaced - the whole affair was stunningly noisy, with ponies completely unaware of the dead.

Standing on a much more well maintained road, Earth ponies trotted by them unimpeded, and mostly unimpressed by the armed group. A few colts and fillies pointed with their parents at the new ‘attraction’, the tall alicorn seemingly gaining them some attention.

“T-That’s weird,” Pumpkin said, hugging close to Tempest - and Vee’s - side. “I-It’s almost… b-believable?”

Celestia’s eyes scanned the crowds trotting passed. They all seemed to be mildly amused and happy, unlike the Ferry Stallion who couldn’t hold back an overbearing grin. Their emotions seemed legitimate, real even. But you couldn’t just walk up to a pony and ask if they’re dead or not.

“I have never heard of Copse Vale,” Celestia spoke quietly to herself. “But I think I now know why. Look at the ponies. What do you see?”

At her bidding, the rest of the party scanned the heads of the crowd. Arin spoke first. “Uh… a rainbow of small horses and their kids?”

“No. They’re all earth ponies. This free weather, the poor planning of their town - Copse Vale was built before the unification of Equestria. Wherever we are now, it’s not safe. Let’s turn back; Tempest was right. We’ll have to take our chances in the cold.”

Celestia made an attempt to do just that, but dark, unruly vines now blocked their path. They were similar to the tendrils hugging the corpses in the lake, which sprung alarm bells for the group. Whatever dark forces controlled these lands, it was intent on keeping them here. Another problem arose - simply touching the vines caused the groups of happy ponies to stop in their tracks. Terrified gazes locking eyes with the group - not at them, but through them. The music began to wind down slowly, each note dragging and grating around them.

Tempest, feeling the mood shift - ripped Celestia away from the thick black vegetation with her hooves. The nearly grating melody sprung back to life, as the ponies snapped back to cheerful chatter and travel. It’s almost as if it never happened at all, and the warmth and flair began again.

“Alright fries o’plenty! Whatever we do, we do it with our snoots clean. Whatever that was, it gave me the worst wing-tingles! I never want to see that again. Blend in like good beans, and we may just yet flap our way out of here.”

“D-Do we have to?” Pumpkin whimpered, seeing a clown pony stomp his giant, fake boots through the crowd. Honking a horn, and offering balloon animals to the fillies. “I-I don’t like clowns… or dead ponies.”

As they stood motionless, more and more eyes settled on them. Vee slapped Celestia’s flank with a wet wing, and many more butts would be slapped if they didn’t start moving. Joining the crowd kept the music lively, and the ghosts at ease - fillies and colts alike bubbling up to gawk at Celestia.

“Wow! You look so weird! Is that a costume? Are your wings and horn real?”

“Miss, can you paint my face? I want to look like a breezie!”

“I want a balloon shaped like you!”

Celestia, obviously worried with the bustling of foals, and seeing amused eyes turned to her, she knew she had to act. A little play. Something she… well, undoubtedly stressed about, as her history with acting wasn’t really… refined.

“Oh nooo! I am… Day Breaker, the mighty! I am… a performer! Yes! I perform at… at the tent! That one, the big one!” She said, with as much finesse as an elephant tumbling into a lake. The foals, at least, ate it up like candy.

“Wow! I wanna see you! What do you do?”

“Do you fly? Or walk the tightrope?”

“You’re so tall! Come to the tent - the show starts soon, Day Beaker!”

Arin chuckled at the new nickname. ‘Day Beaker’. They must have missed the ‘R’. At the beckoning of their parents, the foals and fillies soon left the Princess be - who wiped the sweat from her brow.

“You are by far the worst actor I have ever seen.” Arin smirked. Celestia slapping him with a soaked wing.

“Shut up. Luna still thinks my acting is amazing. She claims it to be the most lifelike and striking performances she has ever seen; and she’s honest when she says it.”

“Alright Day Beaker, I’ll be quiet.” The Seraph smiled, and even the stalwart Tempest smiled at that thought; no laughs yet, but maybe one day, they’ll come. But as with all moments, they must end.

Tempest turned to address the group. “Well then, let’s act like we’re performers. At the very least, it’ll stop the wandering eye from questioning our gear and weapons - and the fact that only one of us is an Earth Pony. Pumpkin, you’re the leader now. Your gear looks the most like a costume, and is the most believable. These… spirits will be more likely to listen to you.”

“W-What? I can’t lead! I can’t even… I…”

Tempest used a hoof to raise her hiding chin, ocean green eyes catching her soft pastel gaze. “Remember what we practiced. Breathe in. Hold it. And show your authority. You’re able to fly above the crowds and tents, guide us to the entrance. Anypony who tries to stop us, direct them to the circus top. Every moment here puts our lives at risk, and as much as I like to think we could just fly out - I don’t think this weird… darkness will allow us. I believe in you.”

Blushing, the little mare gave a nod. “Authority… r-right. W-What should I even say?...”

The chipped horn Commander smiled; “You’re a writer. Describe us like you would in your book.”

She collected her wits, breathing in - and breathing out. A little more steady, the small mare floated in front and above the group. Amused and awe-struck eyes honing in on the broom riding mare. As ponies gathered to gawk at the Seraph and Ponies, Pumpkin’s light and somewhat practiced voice broke the bustle.

“Come one, come all! See the daring acts of Day Breaker, shining in the sky like the sun - at the Circus Top! Witness the majesty and beauty of Tempest Shadow, as she rocks the world in electrifying radiance! See the splendor of Vee-Ness, the Pegasus who wields dark arts beyond your very dreams! S-See the Moon Knight Arin, as his arrows flash like lightning! Come see the show, watch the… t-the Lights of Life! Here, at the Circus Top!”

“When… When did she learn to speak like this?” Arin questioned Vee, who shrugged. Tempest, on the other hoof - smiled.

“She’s been writing a book about our travels since Silversun. She’s not improvising… this is what she truly thinks of us.” Tempest’s pride was clear to see, as the once stuttering mess of a mare overcame her fears, and found the words coming more naturally with time. As long as she kept her eyes away from the ponies below, and looked for an exit - she should be fine.

And the plan worked - any ponies that made to intercept them began to clop and divert to the big top down the ways, Pumpkin’s eyes spotting the very thing she was looking for - a ticket booth, by the exit. With the path clear, she hovered to the ground panting. The proud wine-colored Unicorn ran her hoof through her friend’s rain-soaked mane, as she popped off her hat. Cold, panting, and shivering from exertion, Pumpkin - now cheery - pointed west.

“T-This way! N-Now’s our chance!” she squeaked, stuffing her broom inside, before quickly flopping the chilly cold cloth over her head with a squish.

The group picked up a gallop, Arin beating his waterlogged wings to keep up with the pace of the ponies. Tempest even scooped up the now magically exhausted Pumpkin, who held her brim down with a hoof.

The ticketbooth and gate in sight, relief washed over them like the rain did. The crashing of hooves brought their arrival, and the party darted for the unprotected exit - that is, until a fat stallion bumbled out from the ticket booth, sporting a red coat and a tall, tall hat. His own brown fur held a much too wide jovial smile, and with a click of a cane - the gates to the fair slammed shut. Moments later, black, writhing vines crawled over the painted gold bars - the stallion sighing sadly to see it happen so quickly.

The group skidded to a halt before him, as he looked over his assembled guests.

“My my, what a show, you little mare you! It would be a shame if you didn’t attend to the stampede you just caused, wouldn’t it?” he laughed, waving his cane in a circle as if to say ‘turn around’. Of course, the group did no such thing.

Vee looked up from her preening and flicked her wing, sending feathers flying into the showpony’s face. “What’s your play here, Jerk-face? Lookin’ for a scrap? Bold of you to come into MY plane of reality, trap me in YOUR-”

“Shutit, tramp. I’ve got a show to run, and my main event just arrived,” he growled, his jovial face rotting away to show the chattering teeth of death behind his lips. Surprisingly, it lacked the same vine-like tendrils the Ferry Stallion bore. With a cough, the mirage sprung back - and he looked as happy and grinning as ever. “I’ve got a lot of spirits here looking for some fun, their tickets have been paid and the night - oh yes, the night is almost upon us. It’d be a shame if you couldn’t attend ‘The Lights of Life’; it’s your show, after all.”

“And if we refuse?” Celestia glared, the jolly carnival music slowing at the very words. The flames of lanterns grew dim, the world grew haunted - and the face of the Ticketmaster rotted away before their very eyes.

“The show must go on, are you saying it won’t?” he hissed, the tatters of his clothes revealing the zombified corpse beneath. The group, losing their nerves, cowered at the looming shadows around them. Distant screams became apparent, haunting them to their water-washed cores. The black tendrils began to swell in full, sprouting from the ground to grasp at anything it could reach. Rides, tents, popcorn machines...

“Will you let us leave if we play along?” Arin broke from the stunned silence, and just like that - the jolly music sprung back to life. The stallion stood alive before them once more, the burn of lanterns keeping the mood cheery against the heat-draining rain. Though he looked a little worried, spotting the vines lashing from the floor he stood.

“But of course! The living have no place among the dead. If you survive your respective acts, I’ll have no choice but to let you go.” The Ticketmaster clicked his watch. “Ah, night is almost here. You could stay forever in the dark, if you wished. The snow makes the lights twinkle just that much brighter, Princess Celestia.”

The morning mare - caught unaware from yet the second creature to recognize her in her journeys - froze on the spot. Tempest growled, clopping a hoof against the muddied ground.

“Very well then. We’ll play your game, under the condition that we are allowed to walk free, unharmed and alive, afterwards.”

“Splendid! I believe you have your announcer at the ready.” He looked to Pumpkin with mirth-soaked eyes, unblinking in the downpour. “And I believe my ringfolk have a clear idea on what you may have planned. Four acts, for five performers. That’s surely worth the entry fee. You’ll find everything waiting for you under the big top. Oh, and by the way…”

He turned his eyes to the Lunar Halo fast approaching. “Don’t be late. You wouldn’t want to miss your performance, would you?”