Anon

As a hairdresser, Anon was used to shitty days… or maybe she was just destined to go from one shitty situation to another. Having a unique name did little to help her situation.

You see… Anon’s mother thought that it would be hilarious to name her daughter Anonymous, given the large number of poems or historical quotes with no known source attributed to ‘Anonymous’ over the years. To be sure… she was the only ‘Anon’ in any of her classes.

What her mother couldn’t have foreseen was the number of jokes or pranks played on her as the years progressed. The same old joke, ‘Oh Anon… we didn’t see you there, you must be going incognito today,’ had gotten old by middle school… but, as we all know, some people never truly leave high school in their minds and such jokes can carry on into the adult workplace.

Years and years of mental or emotional abuse, because of her name, made her into an introvert. She commonly refused invitations to go to school dances, general social functions, parties or other places to simply ‘hang out.’ She had no real friends, and she barely tolerated her co-workers. Her relationship with her boyfriend worked mostly because he spent more time trying to write his manifesto than he did trying to spend time with her. She preferred to be alone, reading and drinking her coffee.

Her job forced her to pretend to be an extrovert in public. She had wished for a job that required less public contact, but college was expensive and going to a trade school to be a hairdresser was the cheapest thing available, and nearly the only education she could afford. Her mother had been stern on the issue… she had to go to school and get a job or be homeless. She cut her losses and took the cheapest route forward.

She found that she had no problem chatting with clients while cutting and styling hair, playing up the usual small talk, given that it was superficial and didn’t mean anything. And she had no problem with short-term dating or one-night stands… so long as the guy left once they were done, before she found her current boyfriend.

Her trust issues and introverted ways made it hard to focus on commitment, fueled by the fact that no one had ever given her much reason to try. Her current boyfriend was a rare exception, but, once again, it literally only worked only because he was a penniless writer trying to ‘make his dream work’ and he respected her boundaries. If she didn’t have a stable job to feed his broke ass, he probably wouldn’t stay either.

And she was proven right… once again.

You see… today… of all days… Anon made a mistake. There was this biker that came in for a haircut and when she asked him what he wanted… he told her to ‘surprise him.’ So… she gave him a mohawk. And he cried like a little girl, complained to the manager and Anon got fired.

And then… Anon went home and told her boyfriend that she got fired… and he yelled at her, broke up with her, and moved out of her apartment. The loser was more than happy to be back in his mom’s basement. It should have shocked her, but it didn’t. So now… here she is, alone, and crying about her many failures. Without a new job soon, she would lose her apartment, and shortly afterwards, everything else she had worked so hard far over the years.

“I can’t believe how forsaken I am! None of this is fair! I hate my life… I’m sick of this world, of my existence! I want to go to a place where magic is real. Where there are ponies, and dragons and everything else that Earth doesn’t have! I want a Prince on a white horse… no, a Prince in all black, to rescue me and sweep me off my feet to a happily ever after! And I want it now. Right now…”

She fell onto her bed and sobbed herself to sleep, despair filling her.

Celestia

Raven Inkwell brought in another stack of paperwork to Celestia’s already clustered desk. Celestia could feel a migraine coming on… it was going to be one of those days.

“Raven… that is quite enough paperwork. I forbid you from bringing me more of it today.”

Raven tsked. “Now, now, Princess. This is just immigration requests… fast and easy compared to tax reform. It might actually take your mind off some of the more pressing issues.”

She dropped the stack off on the only empty corner of the desk and left. Celestia looked through the requests and signed off on them, approving most of them. One request submitted ‘magically’ without a direct traceable source caught her eye…

“Hmm. Name: Anon. Sex: Female. No listed race. Request for immediate integration into Equestria under pain of suicide if denied. Well… I can’t very well deny that one. Whatever she is going through must be too big to bear in her current place.”

The signature was placed and Celestia’s day continued.

Anon

She had fallen asleep at some point, but the blowing of the wind caught her attention. It was warm and inviting and yet… out of place.

Did I leave a window open?

She didn’t think so. Opening her eyes revealed her to be in an open field. Her bed and her apartment were nowhere to be seen. She was lucky to still be dressed in normal clothing, having not changed into a nightgown before going to sleep. In every direction she looked, nothing looked like anywhere she had ever seen or been before.

It doesn’t look like I’m in Kansas anymore… makes me wish I had a dog to keep me company.

She swallowed hard before setting off towards what looked like a road.

There has to be someone who can help me.

It appeared to be the middle of the night, with a silence so soft that her ears hurt trying to listen for a sound. She found the road to be deserted, as expected, but she started walking the path anyways, hoping to find somebody soon. It didn’t take her long to run across several lion-bird things with a large cart of sorts.

What in the hell are those? They must be intelligent if they are pulling a wagon…

“Excuse me? Can you help me?

The lion-birds seemed startled by her calling out to them. “Hey! Get a load of this! Have you ever seen anything like her?”

All four griffons surrounded her. They all seemed extra interested in her. Not knowing what else to do, she volunteered some information. “I’m a human… what are you?”

The leader of the group seemed to sneer at her. “We are griffons… and you… are our slave.”

Are these griffons… like… for real?

Anon moved to try to put some distance between her and the griffons, but she had no freedom of movement with the four of them surrounding her. Any thought of trying to fight back was abandoned when she saw their huge lion-like claws. She ended up surrendering meekly to avoid injury. They quickly walked her to the cart, throwing her into a metal cage on a pull cart, and locking the door. The cage itself was clean, with fresh hay in the bottom of the cage. Growing up in the mid-west, she liked spending time with horses and loved the smell of fresh hay, but the normal warm fuzzy feeling was missing with her current situation.

This road must be very abandoned, or they wouldn’t risk such actions. I’m screwed.

She settled into the cage, understanding that fighting back wasn’t something that she would be able to do right now. She would have to time it correctly and hope the time came soon.

Is this better than what I left behind?

Moon Watcher

Moon Watcher was a bat pony, and loyal to only one pony alive. She took her assignment seriously, knowing that illegal slaving was on the rise. What happened outside the borders of Equestria wasn’t her business but what happened within the borders very much was.

Stalking the night was business as usual for her, but she wasn’t expecting to see four griffons on the road with a large cart and a metal cage. Closer inspection showed a female of some kind in the cage, clearly a slave.

Did I already fail my mission by failing to prevent her from being captured?

She growled to herself. “I can’t take on four griffons alone, but it feels so wrong to leave her to their mercy. I know… I’ll tell the master.”

Quick as could be… she flew towards Ponyville.

It didn’t take her long to find her Lord and Master… Midnight Stalker. He was basking in the moonlight, sprawled out in the grass of a hill near his estate with all the joy of a child playing in the night. Nothing could bring him more joy than the full moon, complete with the beautiful Unicorn Shadow. She landed in the nearby trees and watched him.

According to some of the other bat ponies, sometimes on nights like this, he would sing to the moon. Or other times, he would read a story or tell a poem to the moon. It had been described as romantic by some of the mares and as creepy by some of the stallions. She dismissed any claims of it being creepy due to a bat pony stallion not knowing how romantic a unicorn stallion could be. She had never had the pleasure of being able to see it for herself so she was hopeful that if she stood still long enough that something would happen. She didn’t have to wait long.

Midnight Stalker had stopped his basking and sat on his hunches while pulling a guitar out of a magical storage portal. He took in a deep breath through his nose and smiled. He started to strum out a dark lullaby.

“Come little thestral, I’ll take thee away…

Into a land of enchantment…

Come little thestral, the time’s come to play

Here in my garden of shadows

Follow sweet thestral, I’ll show thee the way

Through all the pain, and the sorrows

Weep not poor thestral, for life is this way…

Murdering beauty and passions

Hush now dear thestral, it must be this way

Too wary of life and deceptions

Rest now my thestral for soon we’ll away…

I can see you in the tree line…”

With that… he stopped playing and looked directly at her.

She gulped. All of the bat ponies in the service of Lord Midnight Stalker knew at least a few basic things about him, but no pony seemed to really know him fully. She knew more than most, given her station on the Midnight Counsel, but of what little she knew for certain, she knew two very important things.

First… the only thing Midnight Stalker valued more than his solitude was his privacy. And second… she knew he enjoyed killing. Enjoyed it a lot… actually.

She gulped as she emerged from the tree line and headed towards him.

I am so bucked…

Midnight Stalker

I smiled at her and stood up regally. “Come closer, Moon Watcher. Report.”

Moon Watcher bowed when she got close enough. “I can’t believe you heard me…”

I snorted playfully. “I am the darkness… please give your report…”

Her head bowed low. “My lord… I found four slavers with one slave in transit. They appear to be heading towards Ponyville although I suspect they will use the lesser used roads while carrying their cargo. Here is everything I know…”

Moon Watcher gave a through report prompting Midnight to nod.

“They will be here within two days then. I will be waiting for them. Good work, Moon Watcher. I will have to reward you for this good work…”

Moon Watcher smiled. “I look forward to whatever reward you deem fit however I won’t presume to judge the value of my find. Happy Hunting, my lord…”

My grin turned feral. “Fortune favors the bold. All true warriors are bold.”

May the best pony win.

Author's Note

The prologue was written as an afterthought to create more of a stable back story. Midnight Stalker is described in greater detail in Chapter 1.

Also, the song Midnight sings is a ponifed version of 'Come Little Children' and here is a link to my favorite version of the song.

Children of the Night - Lyrics on screen [HD] - YouTube