The Lost Girls

Here I was on Pony Island fairgrounds of the coast of Manehatten. I came there to blow off some steam and, quite frankly, to get away from the house. I didn't really come there with much of a plan. Like everything else in my life, my direction was usually aimless and unfocused.

I just hated it in my house at the time. I hated how angry I felt and so guilty at the same time. Why was so much resentment building in my system for a pony I loved and I didn't really want to hurt? Every ounce of that hate was also pain. To even imagine hurting her in my mind hurts my soul even more.

So I came to the fairgrounds looking for an outlet for my rage, but again, I also hated the fact I was surrounded by so many innocent ponies who hadn't done anything against me.

But then I sat corrected because I soon noticed that there were a few other species out there and their numbers seemed to be growing over the years. It wasn’t just ponies in Equestria anymore.

Um . . . that's cool, I guess. More variety, I suppose.

As irrational as it was for me back then, I had actually wished somepony around me was guilty of being a jerk. I wanted some excuse to vent all the anger I had, but I also needed it to feel justified. Something like a mugger would do.

But no. That's not what happened. Instead, I saw just the opposite. It was as if life was taunting me because some of the things I saw were happy fathers buying cotton candy for their kids which they proceeded to eat gleefully. I saw excited kids hopping up and down and pointing eagerly to the ride they wanted to go on next. Maybe the most guilty looking ponies back then were the carnies themselves who were hawking their wares with potentially shady deals, but I can't fault them for trying their best to support their business. Any reasonable shopkeeper usually knows the fine art of haggling at the very least.

I even saw a few cops who strolled about while semi-playfully twirling a baton on a leather string with a hoof and also chewed bubble gum casually. Despite their apparently casual attitude, they also still seemed alert for danger just in case. I could see, based on the expression on their faces, that they did not really expect any serious trouble but they remained vigilant nonetheless since it was their job to be so.

In other words, they were an additional reason why I was unlikely to find the trouble I secretly sought unless I became the criminal myself.

While my urge to destroy something was intense, it was not really the reason I came here. Pony Island was more like a backup plan. A place I might have fun instead to distract myself from all of this internal rage within me.

I liked the energy and excitement of that place. That constant movement that surrounded me. It was electric. I found myself somewhat distracted with the rides, the shows, the games, the music in the air as well as the smell of food. I was even partial to some things that most would consider to be annoying such as the long lines to the food stands, rides, or the bathrooms. To me, it always felt par for the course in a place like that. It was simply more evidence to prove to myself that I was, indeed, at a theme park like that. I always accepted that as natural.

When night time eventually came, I felt somewhat displaced from the park. It was like all this fun stuff was around me and I could observe it, but I was not really a part of it. I was just a background pony there. It felt like watching a movie of being in the carnival rather than actually being there. There was a sort of dissonance I couldn't really explain, nor did I really wish to. I'm not no stupid shrink.

It was sort of like eating food but my tongue was numb which subsequently left everything tasting stale.

I recall sprawling on a park bench with my forelegs in the sleeves of my black leather jacket which then rested across the top and back of the bench. I was looking over the bench's head at the wide rippling water behind me. The water glowed in the moonlight. From that perspective, I was looking at the water upside down while the rest of the carnival, and all of its excitement, was ahead of me. While I sat there, I briefly panicked at the thought that I somehow lost my ability to be happy. That I could be in a place like this and it still felt colorless and stale. All the screams of excitement and laughter felt hollow to me. Just empty of meaning and that somehow made all of it seem quieter.

I didn't know what to do. I had all that turbulent energy inside me and I had no outlet for it. On top of that, I saw no solution for the source of my problem. I'm the kind of pony who absolutely needed to fly high and fast, and yet it felt like an iron ball and chain had recently tethered me to the ground. If I flew hard enough, I realized I technically could still take off from the ground, but clearly at a vastly debilitated rate.

And whose fault was that? Nopony! It just happened. It was why life sucked!

Worst of all was knowing I could no longer afford to be reckless anymore because, if I got hurt, I could no longer take care of a pony who really depended on me, and I couldn't just ignore her either. She's my sister. I always loved her despite her being such a pain in my flank.

All of my life, I used to be proud of all of my strengths and talents, but recently all of those advantages had become a burden. I hated feeling that way because I knew it was nopony's fault.

But it could have been worse, I suppose. If I was weak in addition to her then where would we be? As things stood, at least one of us was prepared to do what was needed.

All of this felt like life was clipping my wings. I felt like I must have been doomed to spend the rest of my days looking up and wishing I could go there.

I sighed in frustration as I leaned forward on the bench. I pressed my hooves into my face. I rubbed my face for a few seconds before taking another look around me to see if there was anything around me that was worth my attention. Something to distract me from my inner turmoil.

It was such a surreal feeling, though, to get my wish a moment later. When I looked about me, I eventually spotted something pretty creepy that did, indeed, nab my attention.

It was a clown pony who was wearing a mismatched collage of colors. The pony was also wearing large, red, goofy-looking shoes. One of the clown's hooves, which was pressed to the ground, was also holding onto the string of a single red balloon. The clown's face stood out the most because it was overly large and obviously fake. It had a white poofy face and an orange mane that was off to the sides of its large dome head but it was bald at the top. Its chin was rounded but it also jutted out a bit like a slight crescent moon shape. The mouth was permanently hung open into a wide, creepy looking smile which showed many rows of tall white teeth. The forehead was scrunched up into a series of straight line wrinkles. The cheeks were puffed out to a cartoonish degree and were also orange. The clown's lips were very red and thick. Its eyes looked overly large like some kind of insane predator.

Quite frankly, it didn't really look like a pony. It seemed more like a scary and hostile alien with a frozen face who was making a pathetic attempt to disguise itself as a pony. I found myself thinking that it could pass off as a really good costume for Nightmare Night which indeed would come about just a few days later. Instead of that, though, my actual impression was that it was a creepy park mascot.

The thing that really creeped me out, at the time, was the fact that it was just staring at me, frozen. Movement of many different kinds was occurring all around the clown, but it was just staring silently at me like it was frozen in time and it just happened to be facing my direction when it froze. Despite that, I could feel its attention burning on my hide, and in that case, it didn't feel good.

I noticed, too, that no pony else was paying the clown any attention. They just roamed around it as if the clown was invisible, or perhaps they were subconsciously trying to ignore it. It was as if the clown was actually a ghost that only I could see.

I had quickly decided that I had enough of creepy town for that night. It was time for this little pony to mosey on.

And so I did. I got off the bench and strolled away. For quite a while I struggled not to look back at the clown because I didn't want to seem like I was deliberately trying to avoid it.

However, as I continued, I felt like its attention remained on my back.

Eventually, before I rounded a corner to a pathway between many tents, I looked back at it with my right eye only which peered just over the edge of my metal spiked right shoulder. When I did, I saw that only one thing had changed about the clown. It was still standing in the exact same spot I had observed it before, like a frozen statue, but it had turned its entire body, not just its head, to face my new direction while I wasn't looking at it. From there, it continued to give me its burning stare with its gleefully mad eyes.

I shuddered despite myself then resumed my trek.

Wow! I had to hoof it to the carnies. That's certainly one form of entertainment.

In an attempt to calm myself down, I casually looked at the various tents and activities around me as I strolled down the new path. This section of the fairgrounds seemed dedicated to mostly merchandising of either goods or services. Mostly it was goods. I saw a shop dedicated to scented candles. I saw another shop dedicated to selling crystals and glass sculptures. Some of them might have even been enchanted crystals from the looks of them. Another shop sold various wooden products, another dedicated to clothing, another dedicated to selling musical records. The whole nine yards.

One shop, in particular, caught my eye. I saw that it sold all kinds of posters. Most of those posters were dedicated to fictional characters, but some of them were not. Of those that were not fictional, what interested me the most was a poster dedicated to The Washouts. When I saw it, I couldn't help but crack a smile a bit even as a pang of pain stabbed into my heart at the same time.

Then, a moment later, something else really caught my eye. I saw a young red earth pony colt, with a messy light brown mane, actually buy one of The Washout posters with gleeful excitement. When I saw that, my smile deepened much further. It also drove me into a spur of the moment decision.

I actually approached this foal.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look! The Washouts. Isn't it cool?” the young colt asked his light blue father excitedly.

“Yes, Son,” the boy's father acknowledged. “It's very cool. That's why I bought it for ya.”

“So . . . you like The Washouts, kid?” I asked as I approached these two with a playful grin on my face. The moment I spoke, the father looked over at me with a slight edge of caution in his eyes as if checking to make sure that the stranger that approached them wasn't there to endanger his son. However, when he saw who I was, his eyes exploded widely and his jaw dropped as much as it could. At that point he openly gawked at me.

His son, however, was too distracted with looking at his new prize to notice my approach.

“Yes Ma'am!” the colt said excitedly as he continued to eye his new poster. “The Washouts are the coolest fliers ever! Way cooler than those Wonderbolts! They literally laugh at danger as they go 'woosh' and then they go 'zoom' through, like, a dozen electric loops and such which also wave back and forth. Then they fly way super high only to dive bomb and 'ka-blam' into this giant pool of water full of blood thirsty sharks.”

“Um, Son,” the stunned father said as he tapped his boy a bit frantically. “You may want to turn around and look at this mare.”

“In a minute, Dad,” the son objected. “I want to continue looking at this poster. It's so awesome!”

“Son, I really think you should see this,” the boy's father insisted.

“I'd be paying attention to ya fath'ah if I were you, mon,” said the dark brown shopkeeper pony wearing a rainbow beanie hat on top of his dreadlocks mane. He also wore red tinted sunglasses over his eyes despite it being night time. This was the original shopkeeper that sold the boy the poster. He had an excited grin, but so far held his composure the best among the three.

With a groan, the boy lowered his poster as he gazed at the shopkeeper and asked, “Whaaaaat?” with a bit of annoyance. He then looked up at his father, got caught off guard by his father's expression, then followed his father's gaze to the pony in question. Once he saw me, he gave a gasp of shock, but he was also the next one who spoke. Apparently the pipsqueak recovered fast. I was a bit impressed by that.

“Ya . . . ya . . . you . . . you're the . . . you're the leader of the . . .” the boy stuttered in his excitement.

“Nice to meet a fan,” I said with a wide and genuine happy grin.

“You're LIGHTNING DUST!!!” the boy exclaimed aloud.

I winked at the colt playfully and happily then looked at the shopkeeper as I asked him, “Got a pen I can borrow?”

“Sure, Mon,” the shopkeeper said gladly. “Only, if ya don't mind, can ya sign two more of yee post'ahs? One for meself, for me private collection of course, and anoth'ah to be a sellin, Mon.” He nodded at me. “After all, signed post'ah from yee be worth a higher price, and I be havin' mouths tah feed, if ya know wha' I be sayin'.”

I nodded gladly as I told him, “You got a deal!”

“Far out, Mon!” the shopkeeper exclaimed cheerfully as he leaned forward in his seat and fished for a quill and ink. He didn't have to look far. This shop was dedicated to fans, after all. “This be a night of good mojo, Mon.”

Since I couldn't completely agree with that last statement, I just grinned instead. But, I had to admit, this encounter truly did lift my spirits a bit.

Once I received the pen, I put it in my mouth then bent over to sign three of The Washout posters. Two for the shopkeeper and one more for my adorable little fan.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH!!” the boy practically screamed at me so loudly that he actually hurt my ears and made them twitch. My face also flinched.

“I'm sorry,” the father apologized after he saw my reaction. He finally seemed to have calmed down a bit, too. “He's just so excited to meet you, and as for me? I'm grateful that you took this time to sign my son's new poster. The other foals at school are going to be so jealous of him now.”

“Look, father! Look what it says!” the boy cried out excitedly as he showed his father. “'To one of my adoring little fans, rock on, little pony! Always remember; leap before you look!' Isn't this cool, Dad?”

“Uh . . . heh-heh.” The father actually appeared a little nervous at the wording I wrote. I could think of one reason why, but I also knew that any true fan of mine would take that one to heart in one way or another.

“Keep being awesome, little man,” I told the boy proudly as I reached down and ruffled his already shaggy mane a bit further. After that, I glanced past the both of them and noticed something that widened my eyes a bit and froze my blood.

The creepy clown pony was back. This time it was standing at the end of this pathway just around the previous corner. Once again, it was not moving. It was just staring in my direction with its whole body.

Eventually I also noticed one other detail that both confused me and chilled me even further. The clown still had one single red balloon, but the shape had changed since I last saw it. At that point the balloon looked like a shiny red heart symbol.

Other than that, nothing had changed. It was so eerie to think that the clown only seemed to move whenever I didn't look in its direction, and it seemed especially interested in me in particular for some reason.

“Well, I can't thank you enough for making my little boy happy!” the father said to me very gratefully as he offered me a hoof.

“Huh?” I asked as I looked back at him and shook my head a bit to clear it. I then looked down at his hoof and realized he offered a hoofshake. I proceeded to politely offer my hoof back and said, “Oh, that. Think nothing of it. It's my pleasure.”

However, while I shook his hoof, I also cautiously eyed the creepy clown over his shoulder nervously.

“I mean it, Ma'am,” the father went on. “This means the world to my son, so it means the world to me, too.”

“And it's my birthday today!” the boy cheered. “That's why my father took me to Pony Island today.”

“Oh really?” the shopkeeper asked with pleasant cheer. “Well happy birthday, Mon! How old do ya be here today?”

“Ten,” the colt answered immediately.

“Double digits! Nice!” the shopkeeper cheered with a pleasant nod. “Very nice. That be good mojo, Mon.”

“YIPPY!” the boy cheered with a cry of excitement.

“Kind of like a right of passage, in a way,” the father adds with a grin. “Get used to it, too. You won't see triple digits for quite some time.”

By that point, other ponies in the vicinity started to catch on that they, too, were standing among a potential celebrity, but I did not see recognition in most of their faces yet. It was more like excited curiosity.

Meanwhile, that clown just continued to stare at me down the street, unblinkiing and unmoving.

“Um, well, it was a pleasure meeting you all,” I told my fans as I started to back off. “Always a pleasure to meet the fans.”

“Likewise,” the father returned evenly. “Thank you again, Ma'am.”

“YEAH!” the boy cheered loudly enough to make my ears flick again.

“Peace be wit' you, Mon,” the shopkeeper added to me. “May soaring winds ev'ah be beneath ya wings.”

“Thank you,” I accepted with a gracious nod then glanced back nervously at the clown one more time. After that, I made my way down the street at a more hurried pace this time. By then I had a new plan. If it seemed like I was being followed, then I had a special way to make it a bit more challenging.

It was time for me to “up” the ante.

I didn't look over my shoulder at the clown as I proceeded down this busy street, but I shuddered to think about how this clown always seemed to keep moving whenever I didn't look at it. I even gained this utterly irrational fear that it might even be capable of moving at sudden and explosive super speed whenever I wasn't looking at it despite all the obstacles in its path on this busy street. It actually felt like it might be right behind me and about to grab me but it would freeze at the last second if I turned to look at it.

But no. I squashed that irrational fear down and kept on moving.

When I rounded the next corner, I took advantage of what my race was most iconic for, our ability to make truly 3D movement. I hopped into the air then soared over a building to my left, but I did so from a very low altitude because I didn't want to be spotted. In fact, I glided mere inches over the building and landed at the edge of it to give a quick scan of what was beyond. From that vantage point, I noticed that this new area was mostly vacant because it didn't look designed for the public. Instead, only employees of the park seemed welcome in this new area.

I swallowed a big gulp as I thought about this. If I get attacked here, there would be no other witness to stop it or help me. However, that was true the other way around as well. If I attacked this pursuer, no pony else would rescue it, either, and I was itching for a good fight all night!

Besides, a vacated area also meant no pony else was in danger. There shall be no other hostages that could be used against me. It was just it . . . and me!

If the clown wished to chase after me, I couldn't say I was entirely a big fan of that, but if it chose to change it's target to, say, that little boy I met earlier and it still had hostile intentions, then I'm much less okay with that scenario because at least I could defend myself. I am a strong pony and, if things get too hairy, I could always fly away and at super speed at that. Even if my pursuer happened to be another pegasus, I could probably literally fly rings around it. No pony in the world, that I knew of, could possibly keep up with me other than the “legendary” and “heroic” Rainbow Dash.

It was time for the hunter to become the hunted!

Feeling resolved, I flipped over the edge of the building I was crouching on then landed on the other side with a heroic pound to the ground. Initially I was looking down when I landed, but then I proceeded to scan my surroundings once again. It was then that I noticed a detail I overlooked before. There was a creepy carnival music playing somewhere close by from this new position, most likely from a carnival carousel. While that, in itself, probably didn't endanger me per se, I couldn't help but get this irrational instinct that it gave this clown some psychological advantage.

But whatever. I don't shrug from a challenge. Instead of that, I always say bring it on!

I trotted very steadily away from the wall that was behind me. As I did so, I kept carefully scanning my surroundings. I watched for the clown itself and also listened for any sign of movement such as a shuffle of hooves, the sound of flapping wings, or perhaps even a magical popping sound indicative of unicorn teleportation. If this wasn't a true ghost I was facing or some kind of magical illusion, then it should have some logical means of movement. Whatever that method was, there should be something noticeable about it. Since I was in a quieter area of the park aside from the creepy carnival music, it should help me pick up on the more subtle details of my pursuer.

As I continued to wait, I felt the tension rise in my veins. It made my heart noticeably pound louder and harder. I dwelt on the fact that I wished I knew martial arts. Still, I'm not entirely inept with street boxing and I had a few other tricks up my sleeve that capitalized on my specific racial advantages. I had to keep them in mind and remain calm.

After a while I finally did hear something that was out of place. I heard . . . laughter? It was almost maniacal laughter, but something was off about it. Something that made it sound artificial. There was a slight crackling sound in the laughter like it was being played from a spotty record player. Add to that, there was a slight metallic echo to it like the sound was being played from a metal loudspeaker.

Other than all of that, I couldn't pinpoint its exact position just yet because the sound was bouncing off the walls around me. Another scan revealed the clown wasn't visible yet.

Until it was. I spotted it off the corner of my eye first before I fully turned to look at it. Like before, it seemed incapable of moving whenever I looked at it. Also, like last time, another detail had changed about it, and that was the balloon. Or rather, in this case, it was holding a dozen balloons. Enough to slightly conceal its face this time since some of the balloons hung low enough over the upper right corner of its overly large, painted-white head.

When I locked my eyes on it and narrowed them slightly, it finally moved before my eyes in the very first way I ever saw it do, and that was to tilt its head at me slightly.

I had enough of this!

I spread my wings behind me then shot forward with a powerful flap. A sonic boom exploded from the ground behind me as I launched myself at the clown fast enough to blur which only a trail of lightning visibly signified. I crashed myself into the clown using myself as a living projectile. From there, I nailed it to the wall and flew a few feet off the ground to make sure it had no leverage to use against me anymore.

“Alright, clown! Why are you following me?” I demanded to know as I pressed my right forehoof into its neck, threatening to crush it if it didn't comply while also pinning it to the wall. “What's your deal?” I narrowed my eyes further except, this time, there was a small glint of excitement. “Do you want a fight?!” I offered aggressively and a bit hopefully.

Since I was that close, I could definitely tell that the sound of the laughter was coming from somewhere inside this clown suit, but not from the pony who was wearing it. So far, I couldn't even tell this pony's sex or breed was, but I could, at least, tell that some corporeal pony was inside. Inwardly, I felt a bit of relief over that fact. If this had turned out to be a true ghost, my courage in that situation would suddenly flip on its head.

“Leap before one looks, eh?” asked a feminine and somewhat seductive sounding voice from somewhere behind me. I was caught off guard by that fact because I had carefully scanned that area very recently. No pony else was here!

Well, apparently, there was one more at that point.

After I pressed the clown's neck to the wall harder as a firm warning, I then looked over my left shoulder to behold the new pony who graced our compony. This pony was a little tall, as in long legged, pegasus mare. She had a very dark gray coat and a totally black mane and tail which the light around her seemed to sink into as if her mane was a black void except for one detail; there were a lot of silver glitter sparkles in her mane and tail as if they were sort of stars. This cosmetic detail was also on her black lipstick, black eye-shadow, black hoof polish, and in her thin, black, and almost translucent dress. Her mane and tail was the opposite of poofy. It was very flat on her head, but it was also long and flowing. Her hair looked like it didn't ever need to be brushed. It was more like a black waterfall ever flowing down her head.

“You wear your moniker well, Miss Dust,” the mysterious mare commended me with a graceful nod.

“Who are you?” I demanded to know.

“A simple carney,” the mare answered smoothly. “Just like my associate you have pinned to the wall.” A moment later, she appeared to rethink her earlier statement then decided to amend, “Well, perhaps 'simple' is an 'oversimplification' here.” She gave a soft, sultry giggle at her own statement for some reason.

“Really?” I lifted a skeptical eyebrow then passed that look to the pony in the clown costume that I still had nailed to the wall. “So you both work here at this carnival?”

“Indeed,” the mare behind me answered simply.

“Well . . . that still doesn't answer two questions,” I went on as I narrowed my eyes at my prisoner. “One, your names. Two, why was I being followed? Rather creepily, I might add.”

“A simple request. One I will gladly acquiesce,” said the mysterious and elegant mare behind me. “My name is Demise, and the one you have pinned to the wall is Moonlight. Her identical twin sister should be prowling about the park in a similar costume to that one. Her name is Shadow.” Demise took a quick breath then released it before she went on. “As for why we have been following you, well; let's just say your reputation precedes you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as I half turned my head over my left spiky shoulder at Demise. “Also, your name is really Demise? Really? Boy, your parents must have hated you. I can't wait to see your cutie mark. What is it? A skull?”

“Actually, Demise is a name I've chosen for myself,” Demise informed me smoothly, clearly brushing off any indignity I intended. “My birth name was something else entirely.” She gave a pleasant sigh before she added mysteriously, “Another name for another life.”

Huh. That actually chilled me more. If this mare wanted to rename herself with something that associated herself with death, I probably didn't want to know the reason. So, at the time, my questions on that point stopped there.

As for the other point she made, I had a theory, but I double checked by asking, “What do you mean by my reputation precedes me?”

“It's starting to become clear to me that you don't recall working in this park before,” Demise observed.

“I have?” I asked in confusion.

“Yes, you had, albeit briefly. You put on a Washout show right here on Pony Island,” Demise explained. She nodded to me as she elaborated, “So my colleague and I were interested to catch up with a former fellow entertainer of this park.”

“Huh,” I said aloud as I thought back.

Honestly, I couldn't recall if this was really true, and that did surprise me a little if it turned out to be true. Because my former gang and I have performed in many places all across Equestria, it could blur together a little over time. Pony Island happened to be one of my favorite spots, though. If I performed here along with my former gang, it surprised me that I forgot that fact so completely.

But it was a feasible explanation. I actually knew the park managers here would love for The Washouts to put on a show for their guests. All the better to draw in more customers, of course. There was no doubt in my mind that the wealthy managers of this park could have paid for that service in other ways that would have interested me at the time, too.

Wow! Did I really work there once? Why couldn't I remember if it was true?

As I continued to think about this, a new theory came up that I decided to test.

“Okay, so wait.” I shook my head briefly. “If the two of you came to me because of my previous performance as a member and former leader of The Washouts, does that mean you're trying to entice me into making another performance for this park?”

“Former leader?” the astute mare behind me echoed. “Has the leadership of the group changed? Or are you no longer a member of The Washouts entirely?”

“The latter, sadly,” I told her in a lamenting tone.

“Well, um . . . that's unfortunate to hear,” Demise said with regret. “May I ask why?”

“No, you may not,” I told her firmly at first but then explained a bit more softly, “It's . . . personal. Let's just put it that way.”

“Fair enough,” Demise accepted. “Then may I make another request? How about you finally put my colleague down? I promise we won't bite . . . much.”

I hesitated to answer that request. Before doing that, I reassessed my situation. Creepy as this clown might be, it was not totally unknown for mascot characters to be like this sometimes. Also, being a former associate to this park may help explain their interest in me, especially if it wasn't known that I was no longer with The Washouts. Furthermore, since I got some assurance that they don't intend any personal harm for the moment, I supposed I could relax my guard a little. At least enough to dismiss any potentially illegal action on my part.

With all that in mind, I cautiously set my prisoner down but I also inwardly remained alert. The pony in the clown costume, Moonlight, wasn't the only pony that had me wary anymore. Demise had me secretly a bit unsettled as well.

“Anyway,” I spoke up to break the tension a bit, “if the two of you were hoping to recruit me, and my former gang, for another performance here, I'm afraid you're out of luck. I'm not doing that anymore. At least not for the time being.”

“'The time being,'” Demise echoed. “Fair enough. The present is for you to decide. As for the future? It shall unveil itself in due time, and I am a patient mare.”

“That makes one of us,” I scoffed. “Patience has never been my strong suit.”

“That much is clear,” Demise agreed as she passed a fleeting look to her companion then back to me. “Tell you what. While you remain busy sorting yourself out, how about the two of us return the favor? Instead of you putting on a performance for us, we go the other way around?”

I was about to question that when, suddenly, Demise flicked her right hoof and a ticket appeared on it.

“For you,” Demise told me as she offered the ticket gracefully. “On the house.”

“What is it?” I asked as I accepted with a left wing then examined the ticket itself. The ticket said it was for a band called, “The ShadowBolts.”

“You're not the only performers in this park,” Demise partially answered. “And some of us are here on a more consistent basis.” She nodded towards the ticket as she said, “That there is a front row ticket to one of our performances. You will graciously attend, won't you? Perhaps, in doing so, you may become more familiar with a broader range of your options.”

“What?!” I snapped my gaze back at Demise. “You want to recruit me for your band?”

“Time will tell, and perhaps we can even be more than just that,” Demise answered mysteriously before she gave me a liquid smooth, graceful nod that I could only compare to the regal former princesses of this country who had, themselves, centuries of practice. “Until we meet again, Oh Ephemeral One.”

I raised an eyebrow at her for that mysterious statement. She, meanwhile, gave a subtle nod to Moonlight and, together, they trotted off and soon vanished in the shadows between the buildings around us.

I marveled at this new situation I found myself unexpectedly in as I looked back at the ticket which I was still holding with my left wing.

I guess I didn't really know what to expect from a concert like this in advance. I didn't have expectations because I had never heard of this band before. Everything that I learned about them came from direct experience, the decorations at the concert, and a look at their fans. All of my observations revealed that this performance probably would have some dark theme to it.

That was fine with me. There were plenty of times I even preferred that. I didn't come here expecting to enjoy myself but I have since gained some hints that this performance might actually be pretty cool.

If it was true that I put on a performance at this park myself, which I still didn't remember, it didn't seem out of character for me. In that case it was a surprise that I missed these performers back then.

Then again, if I had performed here, it would usually be a daytime show. My gang and I have done some nighttime performances before. One particular notable one was done in Los Pegasus and that was because it was indoors with plenty of good lighting. Still, for the sake of clear visibility for both my gang as well as the audience, we usually stuck to daytime performances. This concert, however, actually did seem more appropriate for the night based on the motif I've observed around here.

When the performance started, I noticed they began with low bass guitar and some accomponying drum beats. As well, I noticed fog start to envelope the stage rather quickly. Off to the side, several unicorns fired off different colors of laser beams which reflected off many tiny mirrors set all around the stage. The lasers bounced, bent, and ricocheted off many of the tiny mirrors which kind of created a net of light. As the performance continued, either the lasers moved or the mirrors turned. Whichever it happened to be, it resulted in a dazzling display of dancing light beams.

The singers themselves were the last to arrive on stage. Of them, Demise was especially notable since she took the lead both in position and in their singing. Another thing that stood out about them was they didn't really seem to fully be there. Rather than that, they seemed like holographic illusions projected into the fog itself when it got tall enough to match their height. I could tell because the billow of the cloud from the fog occasionally made certain parts of them disappear when it got too low or too small. It seemed they were literally using smoke and mirrors in order to stand there. They also glowed a little too brightly to be fully natural.

“To those of you who venture into the night,” Demise began, not in a singing voice, but rather a talking voice which was in a low, sultry whisper. “the natives welcome you. Come with us as we glide through the darkness . . . and straight into your heart.”

Then, together, Demise and the flanking twins started singing in several escalating octaves. The instrumental performances behind them rose to match them steadily, but they seemed a small step behind. Once they reached the upper octaves, the singers held it for an impressively long time which helped to suggest that this was not just a rock concert but also blended into a true opera genre. Stage magician tricks, and darn good ones too, seem tossed in just for good measure.

At one point I had caught the eyes of Demise staring right at me. During that moment, I thought I had noticed her purple eyes blaze with darker purple energy around her entire eye and her pupils. When I saw that, I got lost in a trance. The rest of the scenery around me faded. I don't know how long. That curious sensation ended when she looked away from me. All of a sudden, the environment around me returned to sharper focus and I felt momentarily dizzy. I didn't know what happened to me, but I figured the lights I saw in her eyes was either a trick of the light or a purposeful trick of hers.

Overall they put on a mesmerizing performance. The central theme to their song seemed to be about encouraging us to welcome darkness into our hearts. They also sometimes did some tricks during the performance that I couldn't really explain. Examples of that were the microphones on a stand on the stage were actually there, but how did they grab them and tilt them down if they weren't really standing there? Also they sometimes tilted themselves too low and swung about at too sharp of an angle to be normally able to hold their balance and without using their wings, but they somehow did.

After the performance was done the lights of the stage picked up and the smoke evaporated. When it cleared, I noticed that the singers were not standing on the stage for real but a little further back than the position they seemed to be earlier.

Just who are these gals? I had to find out more.