The Unicorn's Notebook

The following day, I found myself explaining to Twilight why Rarity was there. She wasn't angry, but she was sad she couldn't use a blanket, hence the close contact. After that was sorted out, Rarity and Twilight conversed while I threw together some kind of breakfast, I'm not too sure. I just wanted to get it done whether it was edible or not. It wound up being the same as before; pancakes. What is it with pancakes, I'll never know.

Serving Rarity and Twilight was simple enough. What would usually be my extras went to Rarity, so I had to make due with my small portion. I kept staring into space while I ate, lost in thoughts regarding the next few days. I had to understand this chaos, but Celestia knows that I had gotten nothing achieved other than give myself some kinda motivation.

I tuned out the girls chatter, thinking back to the previous day. Halcyon Blind... the memory of him... just him, didn't leave a nagging feeling but it tugged at my chest. Or maybe that was Big Macintosh, I don't freaking know. Either way, I have select areas in town where I have this nagging feeling, and it seemed to intensify. Halcyon Blind had something heavier than the nagging, yet it was more tolerable.

“Spike, I'm going out for a bit,” Twilight said, breaking me out of my trance.

I nodded, waving to Twilight as she stood up from the table. Rarity did as well making me look up with a pout.

“I must be going, too. I hadn't planned on falling asleep, so I must return. Sweetie Belle will be coming over today and I need to clean up,” Rarity said, dabbing her lips with a napkin before standing.

“Ah, I can help if you wa...” I caught myself saying, stopping short. A saddened glance from Rarity drove the point home that the previous day actually happened while Twilight's confused glance told me that I'm a lying ass. Nodding, I smiled at her. “Have a nice day.”

“See you later, sweetie,” Rarity said, leaning forward and pecking me on the cheek.

My face reddened, and I looked down at my plate of pancakes; untouched and cold. Sighing, I waved absent-minded at the departing girls as I sunk a fork into the pancakes. I felt tears pricking my eyes which I fought off easier than previously. The guilt had passed, but I still felt sad. Verity kept me frosty and aware of my situation, the days of youthful reveries passed. I didn't even finish my pancakes before spitting on them, tossing the food into the garbage, and leaving. I no longer felt hungry.

[*][*][*]

I walked through Ponyville with the pink notebook in my claws. Flipping through the first several pages, Twilight had listed the deaths of any and every pony she could discover that had been involved with Rarity at some point from a simple “hello” to a lover. She rounded them down to her royal infatuation: Prince Blueblood. He sickened me to no end, but it still sucks that he was dead. Knowing somepony in your life was gone felt weird... it nagged at your mind.

Looking through, Twilight deduced that every death from Blueblood up to this Golden Shutter were involved. After that, I saw speculation and theories that were later crossed out. I decided to read the book at intervals; using the coffee stains, I managed to separate the book into three parts. Part one was speculation regarding the deaths and solidifying them as being involved with Rarity. The verdict? Unsure; she listed 'strange coincidence' or 'murder by proxy.'

Each and every word placed struck me as a reminder of memories non-existent. I kept thinking back to the times where I felt the nagging feeling in my mind. Thinking about the moments as well as the areas several months ago... it feels like there's a gap in my memory, like something important just vanished from my mind. One day, I'll have been eating toast, then later on, whabam, crying in Twilight's forelegs. The jump was insane on some days, but mostly severe on one night.

The night I took Rarity out on a date, a week before we left on the vacation and the same night her boutique was broken into. I remember the restaurant, then remember waking up the next morning in Rarity's... and Twilight's embrace. What the hay happened in between? Maybe it just wasn't as significant, but waking up in a bed with Rarity and my mother meant something had occurred. I don't even get a hint or suspicion... it's just gone, and that is why I'm here.

I know something happened, and this book... it confused me. It didn't answer my questions. It made them more complex and in depth. It razed my curiosity and drove me to intolerable impatience as if I were waiting for an answer from Elysium. Sighing, I stumbled to a park bench, slumped into it, and immediately got called out.

“Hello, friend!”

Turning my head, I spotted Halcyon Blind sitting on the bench, holding a cup of presumably coffee. He raised his coffee as if to say, “I said that.” Nodding my head, I waved.

“Hey.”

He took a quick sip of his drink, satisfactorily ah'ing in delight. He looked to me, smirking. “How are ya?”

I leaned forward, looking down to the ground as I clasped my hands together. “I've been better.”

“I hear ya. Rough day, rough week, or rough life?” he asked.

“Rough everything. Got a bit of confusion in my life, really trashing me inside, but not enough to deter me from my job,” I responded, leaning back and crossing my legs.

He took another sip. “What job do ya do?”

“I work for my mother, Twilight Sparkle, as an assistant,” I responded.

“Your mother is Twilight Sparkle?”

I nodded, smiling happily as I remember the day I proclaimed her so.

“It's odd; wonderful, but... well, she's the princess' protoge! You're a lucky guy,” he responded. “I've heard of Twilight Sparkle and did my research on her enough that I'd only need to nail the social aspect to declare that I know everything about her.” I glanced at him from the side, and he chuckled. “Figuratively speaking.”

“Right. Well, what do you do?”

He smiled happily, sighing. “I worked as a photographer a few months ago, but after an unfortunate falling out with somepony, I was coaxed into retiring. Now, I'm taking a – hopefully – temporary job as a weather pony. I'm on my break.” He took another sip of his drink.

“Featherweight is lucky to have an experienced colt teaching him. When did you start?” I asked, wiggling the pink notebook.

“About a year ago.”

I nodded, smirking. “Right, well, good luck with your job. I know Rainbow Dash and how tough she can be on her workers... when she's into her job, that is.”

He exhaled, rubbing his hoof through his mane. “Tell me about it.” Sipping his coffee once again, he looked over to me. “I actually started as a weather pony the same night that Twilight's friend, Rarity, had a break in at her business.” My attention turned over to him instantly, and I felt my curiosity threatening to break through. “The skies were nice and clean; I was in the night-shift when I actually heard chaos elsewhere in the town.”

“What do you mean by chaos?” I asked, hoping I masked my desperation.

He whistled, leaning forward. “Some kinda brawl happened. A wild beast roared and I heard somepony shout several times... magic, too! I'd say a Royal Guard wrestled an Everfree creature. There were shouts about some 'note' or whatever.” He took a large guzzle of his coffee.

Confusion stabbed me in the head like a knife, sending pain through my spine. I cringed, and keeled over on the seat. Battle? And... note? What is he talking about? What happened that night? Looking over to him after the pain subsided, I gulped. “Note?”

He coarsely exhaled after gulping down the liquid, presumably due to the heat. “Yeah. There was screams coming about some 'notebook.'”

I looked forward, staring ahead of me to the location of the Carousel Boutique. Zoning out was the first thing I did. Staring forward, the words ran through my head.

Rarity... ponies close to Rarity... death... brawl with an Everfree creature... roar... note...

I sat up slightly, as if leaning back would help me see the boutique better.

Ponies close to Rarity... death... roar... note...

My nose scrunched up and I felt a migraine shooting through my head.

Death... no-

“Well, I better head back before ol' captain Dash rings me for the week. Got a family to support,” he said, tossing his cup into a nearby book.

I snapped out of my daze and looked to him just as he stood up and fluttered his wings. He did a quick stretch and smiled. He turned to me, waiving.

“See ya around, friend!” he said before taking off into the sky.

I waved, uneasily shifting as I watched him fly. He seemed to hesitate as he did, his head twitching unnervingly so. Y'know, looking at his attitude... he always seemed shifty and twitchy. His head twitched every few seconds as if he had an injury... it was definitely unnerving for me because of how calm and casual he acted. There's definitely more to him than what's visible.

Sighing, I stood up, and stretched my arms, feeling my bones crack as I did. My joints popped satisfactorily, and I remembered how awkward the last few days have been. I looked back to the skies, watching as he seemingly vanished behind a cloud. I raised an eyebrow, remembering our conversation.

“Death, and... notes? What do notes have to do with this?”

[*][*][*]

Walking back towards the library as per my usual nothing-to-do as of late, I spotted several colts laughing obnoxiously as they strolled through Ponyville. No pony payed any attention to them, though... except for me. They passed through a street on Ponyville, surrounded by ponies yet nopony noticed. I stopped paying attention quickly, their attitudes starting to make me chuckle. Not many ponies can go out in public like this and make a laughing stock out of themselves, yet it did make Ponyville look bad. Ah well.

I glanced back over towards the three obnoxious stallions had vanished. I shrugged; ponies like them often wind up being dubbed the idiots of society because they trick themselves into believing they deserve more than they do. It's why Rarity had been fooled before when looking for her ideal colt. The idiots were able to fool her into believing they were good and honest with their petty hoofball trophies or greasy manes... not anymore. I finally have a chance to prove that love isn't restricted to the stereotypical or the ponies.

Regardless, I'm awfully good at getting kicked out of the boutique.

[*][*][*]

Walking into the library left me questioning why I left in the first place. Maybe I just needed the walk... oh well. Back at home, I decided to use my resources appropriately. I remembered Twilight had read up on death previously, Downfall the Dark's Definitive Discoveries on the Dastardly Defect of Life: Death, Vol 1. The title stuck out mostly due to its lengthy alliteration, and the fact that it had to do with death. Another one that stuck out was Avatar's of Death; a book detailing the many forms of death. Those two books could help me come up with a theory, so I quickly grabbed them from the shelves of the library and sat down on Twilight's bed, and looked at her research notebook.

THIS NOTEBOOK IS PROPERTY OF TWILIGHT SPARKLE.

Looking at the cover gave me an odd sense of deja vu, but for the sake of reading I ignored it. Flipping open the cover, I shifted through the pages, arriving at one point in the book that I was interested in. It was near the end of the first part of the book, aka the first coffee stain. The section mentioned the supernatural aspect of death; the stories of the grim reaper and whatnot. After the Zecora incident, she decided to check out the supernatural things regardless of what happened.

“Tarot Cards, Death's List, Grim Reaper, Gods of Death, Notebook of Death,” I said to myself, reading a page full of comparisons. The things having to do with a reaper or physical being known as Death all had question marks while three ways to kill are circled: Tarot Cards, Death's List, and the Notebook of Death. “Notebook of Death... Note of Death... Death's Notebook. Death Note.”

The instant I said that, I heard a metal screeching reminiscent of a goddamn train wreck. Impossible pain shot through my neck and my entire body's nerves and I dropped the notebook. I began to writhe in pain as my body contorted and began to violently contract and detract my muscles at will. The pain was enough to make any normal pony go into shock, but unfortunately for me, dragon. So I fell off the bed, letting out silent screams as my eyes viewed a world my mind didn't register. I couldn't focus on anything but the pain, and after a few minutes, the pain almost instantly vanished.

“What was that?” I asked myself.

[*][*][*]

Following my non-fatal seizure, I instantly hid the book under a stack of clothes that I owned, specifically my suit for fancy occasions, and went with my day. Fear of that intense pain kept me in check and made me focus on work more than ever before. I turned into a machine that did the dishes, laundry, dusting, sweeping, and every chore created in the past three centuries in the library. After I was done, it didn't look like the same library. Instead, it looked clean enough that you could eat off the floor. I even applied varnish to some wooden furniture. By the time Twilight returned that day, I already fell asleep in her bed.

The next day, I travelled back to the park. Same time as the previous day, with the very same notebook. I started reading part 2 of the notebook, finding more notes scribbled down that debunked other males being involved with Rarity. Every time I saw her name, I considered talking to Rarity about it, but after her response, as well as Big Macintosh's response, talking to others could prove fatal.

Minutes later, Halcyon Blind landed next to the bench and sat down, holding another coffee. The label read “Blue” and it had a star on it. “Type B” was a new cafe made in Ponyville, the site where a gruesome accident occurred months ago to the Golden Shutter fellow. The memory always made me feel somewhat depressed. I was right there, and I could have saved him and for some reason, I felt guilty. Shaking it off, I continued staring at his cup. Looking at his face seemed to be difficult, so I settled.

“Hello, friend,” he said, taking a sip.

I nodded and looked back down to the pink notebook. I concluded the page reading a paragraph about how Twilight resented the one behind the deaths if there is one. She was still dabbling in the “Is this murder?” topic, but she strongly hinted that Tarot Cards as well as a Notebook of Death was responsible if it was supernatural murder. The inclusion of a supernatural being of death itself was unknown.

“How's life?”

Sighing, I clapped the book shut and leaned back on the bench. “Swell. I feel like I forgot something, and whenever I try to remember it,” he paused to think of the previous night, “I am in severe pain.”

He nodded, sipping his coffee. “Fair 'nuff, pardner. Ah don't believe that one can jus' remember somethin' he f'got that easily. Y'all gotta fight for it.”

What? Looking up and towards him, he didn't seem phased by what he just said. He closed his eyes to enjoy a gulp of his beverage and halfway through, he opened one curiously to the silence, and saw my expression. Gulping down the drink, he let out a satisfactory “ah” and continued looking at me.

“Something stuck in my teeth?” he responded accent-free.

I shook my head with an open mouth, and looked ahead of me. The school was visible, and the bell had rung. Fillies and foals ran off in excitement. The Cutie Mark Crusaders dashed out with glee, and Featherweight left the school, seemingly depressed. I raised an eyebrow and spoke.

“Hey, you should go check out Featherweight. He seems down,” I said.

I glanced to the right to find any trace of Halcyon Blind being there gone. No rustling, he wasn't in the skies, or even in the bush. Looking around the area, he just sort of... vanished. I looked back to the school and saw the lot completely empty.

“Those kids just booked it,” I said, chuckling.

[*][*][*]

3 AM, can't sleep. Grumbling, I rolled out of Twilight's bed as carefully as possible, and luckily, Twilight wasn't disturbed. She rolled a bit, humming in her sleep, which allowed me to go enjoy a midnight snack as well as a quick read. Tiptoeing downstairs was easy, and I quickly grabbed a small bowl of jewels and Twilight's notebook. Betraying her trust wasn't like me, but I had to discover this since the others were reluctant. Rarity reacted in such a way that makes me not wanna tell Twilight. She also doesn't seem to realize that it's missing...

Sitting down in the window allowed me to use the moonlight to illuminate my page. Curled up, book on my lap, and bowl of jewels next to me, and I was comfy. I munched away as I read through the second part of the book, stopping to read the notes Twilight left, addressing the danger to her friends if this was murder.

Carefully and slowly, she managed a soft gradient from “Is this murder?” to “Which murder tool was involved?” to “Is there a murder deity at work?” It was interesting to see Twilight go from complete disbelief to totally convinced with the whole murder bit... but it made it more chilling. It was murder at play. My friends did lie to me and cover it up... and Rarity was in danger. But that's the thing.

Was. All of this happened in the past, yet it stopped. Why? How did it stop? When did it stop? Who did it? What happened? No newspapers had explained it. The deaths just stopped one day and everypony ignored it. My friends are acting shifty, especially Twilight and Rarity. Speaking of Twilight... the day we left for the vacation, she seemed uneasy when I looked at that basket. I told Twilight I was donating the basket, but every time I looked at it, I felt that weird, scary sensation, so I burned it shortly after I found this notebook.

One pony wouldn't lie to me, no matter what. And if she does, I'll bug her until she reveals the secrets. Big Macintosh can't stop me, Twilight can't stop me, and neither could Rarity. I'm getting to the bottom of this no matter what.

[*][*][*]

The walk to Sweet Apple Acres was pleasant. I have no ill mind-nagging sensations from before, so Sweet Apple Acres is a nice retreat. The only thing that kept me from coming here before was the fact that Big Macintosh bucked me hard enough to stop. I figured before I talk to Applejack, I should find Big Macintosh and apologize for what happened.

I stepped into the acres and began a quick search for Big Macintosh. Bucks echoed in the wide expanse creating a constant clicking sound reminiscent of woodpeckers. The only difference was that these “clicks” were due to good ol' F=ma extracting apples from trees.

Big Macintosh's buck itself was dangerous. I could tell that, had I been a normal pony, I would have a shattered sternum. Gulping, I approached one of the sources of the clicking, feeling my heartbeat quicken. Passing by tree after tree began to blend the moment together and I soon found myself lost. Either way, a quick shout or signal fire would ensure I was found.

Regardless of the blending, I found myself approaching an area of the acres with trees recently bucked. In the distance, many gruff grunts could be heard; Big Macintosh was close. I began to sweat a bit, and silently prayed that I could survive past this moment. I quickly retrieved the notebook and continued down the current path. The clicks got louder and louder until I cross a hill. Big Macintosh was at the bottom, and he was hard at work.

Gulping and deciding I was past the point of no return, I stumbled down the hill until I was able to walk normally and stopped several feet away from Big Macintosh. He seemed to notice my presence, probably due to my growth; I still can't get over the fact that I look down on him. He looked at me with a dull expression, as usual, and didn't prepare himself for another buck. He merely stared me down, waiting for me to speak. Any words I had thought to speak with were gone. I decided to start simple.

“Afternoon, Mr. Macintosh,” I said, hearing my voice crack on 'Mister'. He nodded his head, and I felt a bit of relief. The tension was still present. His glare reminded me of the impact, which I could still feel. Instinctively, I reached up and rubbed the area where he hit me. His eyes seemed to soften as I did, and I cleared my throat.

“I'd like to apologize for what I said.” I felt tears building up in my eyes, although I'm not sure why. Fear? Or... no, guilt was definitely there. I still can't believe I, even for one second, thought that Applejack would murder, let alone be the killer from months ago. “I had no right to say it, and...” Tears came down my face and I felt myself start to choke on my voice. I was merely apologizing for something, but I felt more guilt than I should... as if I actually attacked Applejack. Or maybe I was just realizing that Big Macintosh was gonna kill me. “I'm sorry.”

His expression remained stoic as ever, but he gently nodded his head. I still couldn't stop feeling shame from what I said, which is expected, but the sheer volume of it was odd.

“Did Ah break anythin'?” he asked.

I frowned and put pressure on my chest. I still felt the pain, probably because my soft underbelly was bruised, but nothing actually broke. I shook my head. “No, but it did feel like a lung collapsed.”

“Ah'm sorry,” he said.

I waved my hand with a nod, and felt like I should mention the other reason I was here. “I also wanted to speak to your sister.” Another glare from Big Macintosh reinstalled the fear I had before. “Err, I'm not gonna ask any awkward questions, just need to settle my innocent curiosity.”

Silence between us seemed to last a while before he nodded his head. I never bothered to stay there as the fear continued soaring high in my mind. I turned and speed-walked through the acres to find Applejack. All I had to do was follow the clicking and I found Applejack with ease. She was bucking away, the same as Big Macintosh. I approached her, but kept my distance.

“Excuse me,” I said meekly.

Applejack stopped mid-buck and faced me. She smiled large. “Well howdy, Spike,” she said with gusto.

I nodded my head. My manners were incredibly lacking lately, but who could blame me? Constant fear griped me. I felt the notebook tingling in my chest, but I attempted to ignore it. Opening my mouth, I fumbled with several words before I sighed.

“I'm sorry, I was gonna ask something,” I said, turning to walk away.

“Well, shoot. Ah've got nothing t' hide.”

Turning to her, I figured I had to abuse her position if I wanted my answers. “You'll answer no matter what the question is? Answer right away, honestly? This one question?” She gave me a confused stare while she nodded, and I sighed. “What happened to the one responsible for the deaths several months ago?”

Her expression shifted several times, but it wasn't enough to make me retract my question. I glared at her, and she settled on an expression of fear; wide eyes, jaw dropped, and she began to fumble with words. It was clear she knew the answer... or at the very least knew something about the incident. Just like me, she let out a long, drawn out sigh after a while and looked me dead in the eye.

“The one responsible for the deaths was a monster. Th' varmint has since been reformed,” Applejack responded.

A monster? I focused my gaze on Applejack, spotting something on her neck. A long, thin scar on her neck. I felt my heart skip a beat as I realized she knew more than she was letting on.

“Who was involved?” I asked.

“Spike, Ah said Ah would answer 'one' question,” she said.

I stared at her as if my gaze would somehow change her mind. After several seconds of what was probably glares at each other, I looked away, sighing.

“Thank you.” I spat bitterly, quickly turning to walk away. After I walked several meters, Applejack spoke up again.

“Spike, there are reasons why nopony is talkin' 'bout th' incidents. Ah suggest ya listen to Twilight if she tells ya t' stop.”

I continued walking with what she said playing in my mind. A monster...

[*][*][*]

At home, I found myself unable to sleep once more. Twilight laid in bed while I fumbled around the library, killing time. I wanted to read more of her research data, but after the talk with Applejack, I began to comprehend the severity of the incidents. A monster, supernatural deaths, considerations regarding a god of death; the entire thing finally started to register as being dangerous in my mind. It still doesn't explain my apparent insomnia.

Sighing over and over provided no help and I decided to suck it up and read the research notebook. Sitting myself down in the same position with last night as well as the rest of my jewels, I began reading with the moonlight illuminating the book. I finished up part 2, only discovering that Twilight herself was certain something supernatural was at play. The latest death marked in the book then was a fellow who worked in Manehatten. Part 3 of the book started off with more speculations and rumours.

“Gods of Death could be involved.”

“Tarot cards; unlikely.”

“A long-range spell capable of instigating cardiac arrest within a pony as evident with Blackhoof's death.”

“Legend of the killer notebook could apply; most likely a name and face required for murder and at the very most a cutie mark.”

Humming to myself, I continued reading like a leisurely rest until I came up to a page speculating about this notebook of death. It stuck out, mostly because it was dated after the night Blue Star was murdered... after the break in. Actually, Twilight wrote it in a way that it seemed like fact.

“'The pony whose name is written in this notebook shall die'; proven. Death can be specified. Losing ownership results in memories of notebook to be gone from the owner.”

Reading those lines over and over again... it sounded familiar. It certainly did, like I knew these 'rules' somehow. I munched on gems as I continued reading the 'rules' and came upon one word that made me freeze.

“It's official. The worst murder weapon in history was responsible for these deaths. Class: Supernatural. Name: Death Note.”

My mind didn't screech or pain me at all. I felt a small tugging at my mind that never vanished. A light tug that seemed to increase in force... until I realized that was just gravity taking over. I fell off the window ledge and landed on the ground, injuring my shoulder and dumping my jewels all over the floor. The book landed next to my head, and I focused on it. I felt no pain from the impact. I felt no sharp stinging at my mind at the mention of this Death Note. As a matter of fact, I couldn't feel anything at all. I could move my eyes, but they remained focused on the research notebook. My mouth was moving, and I could feel my vocal chords working, but I never registered what I was saying.

Did I just die?