Chapter Ten: Something Something Nightmare Moon

With the exception of the infamous Rainbow Dash Incident, a foal had never gone missing in Ponyville before, let alone three of them; naturally, the event had become the talk of the town. However, now that a week had passed and there was still no sign of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, the talk was beginning to turn grim. Rumors and gossip were on everypony's lips that Spring, communicated in hushed voices; voices that fell silent whenever the haggard, worry-lined face of Filthy Rich and his wife were seen in town.

Nopony blamed Pyx, of course, nor did they blame Twilight. The horse-police had naturally lectured her a bit for not reporting the incident at first: after returning home with Pyx, Twilight had consumed an entire bottle of Pone's Farm and was unconscious for most of the next day. The initial report had been made by Fluttershy. However, after a brief investigation, it was concluded that Twilight had done nothing wrong. It was reasonable that her primary concern had been her weird-looking cousin-daughter or whatever, they decided, and it had been equally reasonable for her to assume that Spoon and Tiara had simply gone home after ditching Pyx in the woods. No charges were filed, and, much to Twilight's relief, no further inquiries into the identity of her "cousin" were made.

Twilight, of course, had also said nothing about the pouch of bits that Pyx had been carrying with her.

For her part, Pyx found that life was going well. She had become something like a celebrity at the Ponyville school. The foals were in awe of her for spending almost an entire night alone in the Everfree Forest, and at recess they all gathered around to hear her tell the story again and again, even though she couldn't remember most of what had happened. She suddenly found herself with more friends than she knew what to do with; the other fillies had even begun imitating her unusual patterns of speech, ending all of their sentences with "tutturu" and "nipah."

And, though nopony ever said it out loud, the truth was that the schoolyard felt a little more pleasant these days, and nopony really missed Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon all that much. However, all of that was soon to change.

One bright, sunny morning in the library, Twilight Sparkle's little makeshift family was gathered around the breakfast table. Twilight wore a rumpled, unwashed bathrobe, and her mane was a mess, but the half-empty mimosa on the table indicated that she was in a good mood. She chatted gaily with Pyx as the latter got ready for school. Nearby, Spike, clad in his frilly pink apron, was washing dishes and arguing with Owlowiscious about the identity of an unknown person.

In spite of her recent ordeal in the woods, Pyx was back to her usual self. Replacing her torn vest and broken glasses had thankfully been a trivial matter: as it turned out, Rarity had an entire box of unsold leopard-print vests in the back room of her store, and she had graciously allowed Pyx to take them all. In an equally curious coincidence, she had also provided a box full of cheap, plastic eyeglasses identical to the supposedly custom pair that had been lost. The filly was now busy getting her assorted books and pencils together for school, nipah-ing and tutturu-ing as she went.

Suddenly, there came a knock at the door.

"Spike, answer the door!" yelled Twilight.

Spike answered the door.

A pair of earth pony stallions, dressed in matching grey suits with matching fedoras, trotted into the main room of the library.

"Good morning, ma'am," said the slightly taller stallion. "My name is Pony-Joe Friday, and this is my partner, Horse-Pun McSpade. We're detectives with the Ponerton Detective Agency."

The other partner, McSpade, passed a business card to Spike, who read it, shrugged, and passed it off to Twilight, who was just entering from the kitchen. She levitated it before her eyes, squinting at the fine print:

Pony-Joe Friday / Horse-Pun McSpade

Detectives

The Ponerton Detective Agency

"Um, okay," she said. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking into the disappearances of Miss Diamond Tiara and Miss Silver Spoon," Friday continued. "We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

Twilight made an effort to straighten her mane a bit, and swallowed the remainder of her mimosa in one gulp.

"Yeah, that's fine I guess," she said. "But the horse-police were already here."

"That's fine, ma'am," said McSpade. "We're not here on behalf of the horse-police. We've been hired directly by the Rich family in hopes that we might have better luck finding their daughter."

"Oh, okay. Um, would you like some coffee?"

"That sounds just wonderful, ma'am," said Friday.

"Alright, I'll get some going," said Twilight. "SPIKE!! GET SOME COFFEE GOING!!"

The dragon in the pink frilly apron stomped back into the kitchen, grumbling to himself, while Twilight and the two detectives sat down at the table in the library.

"So, uh, how's the search going?" asked Twilight.

Detective Friday glanced at Pyx, who was watching them curiously from the kitchen doorway.

"Um, ma'am? Would you mind asking your filly to leave the room? She probably shouldn't be hearing this."

Twilight's brow furrowed in concern.

"Pyx!" she called out. "Why don't you go upstairs and get the rest of your homework together?"

"Nipah~~!" Pyx said pleasantly, and trotted up to the sleeping loft.

Once the two detectives felt the child was out of earshot, they leaned in closer.

"The search is technically over," said Friday in a low voice. "The bodies of Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were discovered late last evening, washed up on the riverbank about twenty miles downstream from the old castle."

Twilight gasped.

"That's horrible!" she cried. "Those poor little fillies!"

"The bodies were in pretty bad shape," said McSpade. "They had both been beaten with rocks and stabbed multiple times with some unidentified weapon. From the shape of the entry wounds, the current theory is that it was some kind of sharpened stick."

"I...see," said Twilight. She looked a little queasy.

"The body of Silver Spoon was in particularly bad shape," continued McSpade. "In addition to being stabbed and beaten, she'd had her neck broken and her head twisted around. When we found her, she looked a little like that owl over there."

He indicated Owlowiscious, who was perched on a nearby bookcase, watching them curiously with his head turned around one hundred and eighty degrees.

"Who?" he asked. The three ponies ignored him.

"I......see," said Twilight. She now looked extremely queasy.

"On top of their fatal injuries, considerable post-mortem damage had been inflicted," McSpade went on, oblivious to Twilight's discomfort. "Whoever worked these fillies over worked them over good. They also went to considerable lengths to desecrate the bodies afterward. Diamond Tiara had her tiara wedged in an unmentionable place, and Silver Spoon had been severely beaten with her own amputated legs. In addition to this, they had clearly been exposed to the elements for some time. Diamond Tiara got the worst of it. When we found her, her face had been partially eaten by raccoons, one of which was still feeding on her when our agents arrived. It took at least four of us to chase him off, but not before he managed to detach one of her eyeballs and--"

Twilight suddenly leapt to her hooves and galloped to the bathroom. The door slammed shut, and muffled sounds of retching could be heard from the other side. The two detectives looked discreetly away, admiring the library's extensive collection of old Ponish books.

"Say, how's that coffee coming along, little dragon?" called out Friday.

Spike mumbled something unintelligible and unfriendly-sounding.

The toilet flushed, and Twilight reemerged, still looking rather queasy.

McSpade smiled pleasantly at her.

"We brought some photos if you'd like to take a look at them--"

"NO!" said Twilight. "No, that's okay."

"We understand this must be very difficult for you, ma'am," said Detective Friday. "That's why we usually don't want children to hear these things."

"Is there any reason that I had to hear them?" asked Twilight.

"No," said Detective McSpade, "But we like to be thorough."

Friday cleared his throat.

"From the condition of the bodies," he said, "Our current theory is that these fillies did not die of natural causes. We're suspecting foul play."

"Really," said Twilight dryly. "Well, I guess you're the detectives."

"We're currently looking into a possible connection with an occult organization that's been operating in the area recently," said McSpade. "We understand you might have had a run-in with them a couple of months ago."

Friday reached into his jacket with his muzzle, and passed a manila folder over the table.

"Do you know anything about an outfit called the Order of the New Moon?" he asked.

Twilight opened the folder and skimmed through a few blurry photographs of ponies in dark robes performing ritual dances around a campfire.

"The Order of the New Moon?" she asked. "I don't think...wait a minute, was this the same pack of incels who dragged me off into the woods that night?"

The two detectives glanced at each other.

"That's what we're currently trying to work out, ma'am," said Friday.

"Do any of these ponies look familiar to you?" asked McSpade.

Twilight looked over the photos again.

"These aren't very good pictures," she said. "And I was tied up and blindfolded, so I didn't really get a good look at them. Plus, I was a little...under the weather that night."

"Under the table, you mean," said Spike pleasantly, entering the room with a silver tray. He set it down on the table and poured out three cups of coffee.

The two detectives glanced at each other again.

"Were you...inebriated at the time?" asked Friday delicately.

"Twilight? Inebriated?" Spike scoffed. "Not a chance. Nothing like that goes on in this house. No, sir, officer; we're strictly teetotalers around here. Isn't that right, Twilight?"

Twilight shot him a murderous look.

"Spike, I'm afraid there's a bit of a mess in the bathroom," she said. "Would you be a dear and go clean that up for me?"

Spike smiled politely, made an extremely rude gesture, and stomped off to find a bucket and mop.

The two detectives glanced at each other a third time, and then rose.

"Well, we've probably taken up enough of your time," said Friday. "If you think of anything else that might help us, please get in touch."

"I'll do that," said Twilight.

When the door closed behind them, and they were once again out in the fresh morning air, the two detectives faced each other.

"What did you make of that?" asked Friday.

McSpade shrugged.

"About what we expected."

"Think she knows anything she's not telling?"

"I doubt it."

Friday pushed his muzzle inside his jacket and emerged with a cigarette in his mouth. He bent down toward a nearby rock and scraped it a few times with a flint-tipped horseshoe until it made a spark. He raised his head and turned his attention back to his partner, exhaling smoke.

"You get a look at that filly of hers?" he asked.

McSpade frowned.

"The little black one? What about her?"

"Not much of a family resemblance," said Friday.

"Yeah, I noticed that too. Maybe she's adopted."

"She remind you of anypony?"

McSpade shrugged.

"Sapphire Shores with better fashion sense?"

"Maybe. But...I don't know. I caught sort of a vibe off of her. Sort of a Nightmare Moonish vibe."

McSpade rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you've said that that about every filly we've seen since this investigation started," he scoffed. "What is it with you and Nightmare Moon fillies, anyway?"

Friday exhaled a wreath of smoke.

"Call it a hunch, a policeman's instinct," he said.

"I call it nuts," retorted McSpade. "You and your wacky conspiracy theories. Nightmare Moon resurrected as a filly; give me a break."

Friday shrugged indifferently.

"Say what you will, but don't you think this is all a little too convenient? Some Nightmare Moon cult starts operating in the area, kidnaps one of the six ponies who helped defeat the original Nightmare Moon, uses her in some kind of magic ritual to resurrect Nightmare Moon, and all of a sudden here's this filly, living with the abductee, who looks exactly like Nightmare Moon?"

McSpade laughed scornfully.

"Oh, come on!" he said. "That filly looked nothing like Nightmare Moon!"

"I thought I saw a resemblance."

"Did Nightmare Moon have a racing stripe in her hair?"

"She could have. Did you ever see her up close?"

"No, but--"

"But nothing. We're supposed to investigate every angle, so let's investigate every angle. Come on, we're getting paid, and it's not like we've got any better leads at the moment."

McSpade opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and shrugged.

"All right, I guess I'll give you that," he said. "So what do you want to investigate?"

Friday spat out the butt of his cigarette and ground it out with his hoof.

"For starters, I'd like to find out if Twilight Sparkle actually has a daughter or not."

In a dark dark room, in a dark dark corner of a dark dark tower, a dark dark unicorn was thinking dark dark thoughts.

As one of the most revered professors at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, as well as the Chair of the Angsty Poetry Department, Evening Musk had had first pick of offices. However, to his colleagues' surprise, instead of one of the prime offices on the ground floor, he had chosen this old, dilapidated observatory located at the very top of the East Tower. Rumor had it that this room had once belonged to Star Swirl the Bearded himself. Of course, another rumor had it that it had once been a broom closet, but Evening Musk chose to believe the more romantic of the two stories.

The shutters had not been opened since he'd moved in, and no matter the time of day, the room was always dark and stuffy. The only light came from a single candelabra that sat on the desk, casting an eerie light on his shelves full of skulls and talismans and arcane tomes.

There was a knock at the door.

Evening Musk looked up from the book of angsty poems he was reading, annoyed at the interruption.

"Enter!" he said.

The door opened, and his acolyte Night Soil entered the room.

"My liege," he said, bowing.

Evening Musk waved a dismissive hoof.

"Yes, yes, never mind all that," he said. "What is so important that you felt the need to barge in on my studies?"

Night Soil cleared his throat.

"I apologize, sir," he said. "However, you instructed me to alert you the moment I learned anything about Celestia's investigation into the Everfree Forest incident."

Evening Musk frowned. He closed his book and levitated it back to the shelf, and sat up alertly with his hooves pressed together on the desk.

"I thought you told me that investigation had been closed," he said, with interest.

"It was," confirmed Night Soil. "However...well, perhaps I had better let this fellow explain it to you."

He turned and gestured, and a light blue unicorn with a white mane and a severe expression stepped into the room.

"Who are you?" demanded Musk.

"You don't know me, my Lord," said the unicorn. "But my name is Bastion Yorsets. I am loyal to your cause."

"Your name is what?"

"Bastion Yorsets, my Lord. All hail our Queen!"

"Yes, yes, all hail the Queen," said Musk, waving his hoof impatiently. "But before we get into all that, I want to ask about that name of yours! Where in Equestria did you get a name like that?"

The unicorn looked taken aback.

"Er, I don't know, my Lord. It's just my name."

"You mean your parents actually named you Bastion Yorsets? Your father willingly acknowledges a son named Bastion Yorsets? On the day you were born, after hours of excruciatingly painful labor, your mother took a look at the beautiful new foal she'd brought into the world and said 'I think we should call it Bastion Yorsets?'"

The unicorn swallowed uncomfortably.

"Uh, no, my Lord. Not exactly."

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"

"Well, I'm actually called Top Marks, Lord."

"Top Marks?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"That's the name your parents gave you?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Well, that's an ordinary enough name."

"It is, my Lord."

"A perfectly lovely name, even."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"So why did you tell me your name was Bastion Yorsets?"

"Well, my Lord, it's...something of a nickname."

"A nickname?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Who gave it to you?"

"No one, my Lord."

"So you just started calling yourself that one day?"

"Err...I suppose so, my Lord."

"And what exactly does 'Bastion Yorsets' mean, anyway?"

"I don't know, my Lord. I just like the name."

Evening Musk took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"So, let me get this straight," he began. "Here you are, a perfectly fine, upstanding, well-bred stallion with a perfectly lovely name, given you by your loving parents. And one day, for absolutely no discernible reason, you started going around calling yourself Bastion Yorsets."

The unicorn swallowed.

"Um, yes, my Lord."

"I'm supposed to sit here and have a conversation with somepony who willingly goes around calling himself Bastion Yorsets."

"Uh...yes. I suppose so, my Lord."

Evening Musk turned to Night Soil.

"What in Equestria is the meaning of this?!?" he demanded. "Why would you bring someone with such an incredibly stupid name into my office?"

"Well, sir," said Night Soil, a bit nervously, "I think you should at least hear what he has to say."

Evening Musk looked away and sighed heavily. He tapped an irritated hoof against the ancient wooden surface of his desk. Legend held that Star Swirl had composed his famous text on levitation using this very desk. Another legend held that it was the desk upon which Professor Broadleaf had impregnated Rose Blossom the cleaning mare, and it had been moved in here because it smelled funny.

The two ponies across from him glanced at each other nervously.

"I ought to throw you out the window!" Musk exploded suddenly. "I ought to lift you up by your horn, throw open the shutters, toss you out into the wild blue yonder, and watch with glee as you fall screaming to your death!"

Yorsets swallowed again.

"Well, my Lord," he began nervously. "If that is the fate I must endure in order to be of service to our Queen, then I would gladly accept it. However, I think you should at least hear what I have to say first."

Musk sighed.

"Oh, very well. What information do you bring me?"

Yorsets glanced nervously at Night Soil, who gave him an encouraging nod.

"Well, my Lord, I have heard news of--"

"Am I to call you Bastion Yorsets," Musk cut in suddenly. "Or can I just call you Top Marks instead?"

Yorsets cleared his throat nervously.

"Well, my Lord, if it's all the same, I think I'd prefer to have you call me Bastion Yorsets."

"He does have some very valuable information, Lord," added Night Soil. "I really think you should hear it."

Musk sighed heavily in resignation.

"Very well," he said. "I will call you Bastion Yorsets."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"But it's a stupid name."

"Well, that's just your opinion, my Lord. I, for one, am quite fond of it."

"Just get on with it, before I change my mind and toss you out the window."

"Ah, yes. *Ahem*. As I said, my name is Bastion Yorsets. After the, er, incident in the Everfree Forest, Princess Celestia opened an investigation into our most nefarious Order."

Musk grunted impatiently and waved a hoof.

"I know all of this already," he said.

"Well, what you may not already know is that I was brought on as a consultant to study the spell that was used in the summoning ritual, and to determine its purpose. Naturally, I already understood the purpose of the spell, and naturally I did what I could to obfuscate this to keep Celestia from learning the truth--"

"Oh, will you please just get to the point, man!"

Bastion Yorsets looked a bit hurt, but he again cleared his throat.

"Well, my Lord, I have discovered that the spell was not...entirely unsuccessful."

This caused Musk to sit up in his chair and pay attention.

"What do you mean?" he demanded. "The ceremony was interrupted; the transmutation did not complete."

"Yes, Lord, due to Celestia's intervention, you did not succeed in bringing our Queen through the portal. However, through my studies I have confirmed that something was indeed pulled through."

Yorsets noted with satisfaction that he had Musk's undivided attention now.

"If it was not our Queen who came through the portal, then...what did come through?" asked Musk.

"I'm afraid I have yet to determine that," said Yorsets. "But I have a theory, if you would like to hear it."

Musk made an impatient gesture.

"Yes, go on," he said.

"Well," continued Yorsets, "Some aspect of our Queen did indeed make it through; I've ascertained that much. However, she was still without form when the spell was interrupted. What came through the portal was most likely some sort of chimera, a creature composed of various...lower entities...that was assembled and given life in the Void."

Evening Musk thoughtfully rubbed a hoof against the underside of his chin.

"Yes, that makes sense..." he mused. "And this...aspect of our Queen you spoke of?"

"It is most likely lying dormant inside the chimera, as a sort of second personality. If my calculations are correct, it would take but a small push to awaken Her. I've already taken the liberty of drawing up some rudimentary notes on the procedure."

He rummaged about in his saddlebag, and produced a stack of pages covered in runes and diagrams. Musk skimmed over them quickly.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I can see how this might work."

He looked up.

"Do we have any idea where the chimera might be? Is it...still wandering about in the Everfree Forest?"

Yorsets flashed a cunning smile and shook his head.

"That is what I had thought at first," he said. "But, it appears that she may have been found. One of our agents in Ponyville has made a most promising report. He says that there is a rumor in town that the librarian's little cousin is...not all that she seems."

"Ponyville, eh?" mused Evening Musk. "Who is our agent there, anyway?"

"Soup Du Jour, my Lord."

"Soup Du Jour? I've never heard of him."

"I'm not surprised, Lord. He's something of...of a background pony, if you will."

"A background pony?"

"Yes, you know; one of those fellows who just sort of blends in with the scenery. The sort of fellow you don't even notice even if he's standing right in front of you. Only an extremely observant pony would even remember he existed, let alone know his name."

"Hmm, yes; that sort of pony is perfect to use as an agent. Well, have him look into this matter, and see if there's a way for us to get hold of this chimera. In the meantime, I'll get to work constructing this spell of yours. Perhaps we can salvage this yet."

"Certainly, my Lord."

"Oh, and Yorsets?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Good work. I've decided not to throw you out the window."

Bastion Yorsets bowed graciously.

"Thank you, my Lord."

"However, I still think your name is stupid."

"This is bad, Spike!"

Twilight paced nervously back and forth across the main room of the library.

"This is really, really bad!!"

Spike sat in the corner in his favorite easy chair, smoking his bubble pipe. Usually, Twilight's freakouts were one of his few sources of amusement, but today she was actually starting to worry him.

To her credit, Twilight had managed to keep it together long enough to finish getting Pyx ready for school. However, as soon as the door had slammed shut behind her, Twi had gone straight for the Pone's Farm and started ranting.

"What are you freaking out about, anyway?" demanded Spike. "They're not investigating you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," cried Twilight. "It's Pyx!"

"Pyx? That makes even less sense than if they were investigating you. What do you think, that Pyx killed Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon?"

He'd meant this as a joke, but from the look on Twilight's face, it was clear that she didn't take it as one. He choked on his pipe in surprise, and hiccuped out a large bubble.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"AAAAAARGH!!"

Twilight threw up her hooves in frustration.

"I don't know, Spike," she said. "But it looks bad."

Spike thought about it for a moment, then waved his claws dismissively.

"Oh, come on!" he said. "Sure, little Trebuchet and I have never really gotten along, but...I can't believe she'd actually kill anypony!"

"Pyx wouldn't," said Twilight. "But Nightmare Moon might."

Spike rolled his eyes.

"There you go with all that Nightmare Moon stuff again."

Twilight swallowed what was left of the bottle in a single gulp, and then grabbed a new one off the table and uncorked it. Spike watched her with unease. She wasn't even bothering with a glass today.

"You didn't see her that night, Spike. Coming out of the woods, those Nightmare Moonish eyes, glowing all Nightmare Moonishly! It was the Nightmare Mooniest thing I've ever seen!"

"Pfft," Spike said dismissively.

"And then there was that sack she had when I found her. The one with a thousand bits in it!"

"You said she found that under a log!"

"I said that's what she told me!"

"Yeah, but..."

"You actually believe she found a thousand bits hidden under a log?"

"No, but..."

"Where else would a little filly get a thousand bits, Spike?"

Spike shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe she seduced a homeless guy."

"Oh, if only I could believe that were true!"

Twilight tipped the bottle back and downed about a third of it in one long glug. Spike watched her with concern.

"Uh, Twilight, maybe you ought to ease up a little on that..."

"There are other things, too, Spike!" she said. "Things I've noticed since she came back. Little signs here and there!"

"Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, I found Peewee stuffed down the garbage disposal the other day."

"Who?"

"Your pet phoenix."

"I have a pet phoenix?"

"Yeah. A little baby phoenix. Don't you remember?"

"I'm not sure anyone remembers that. And anyway, Peewee might have died of natural causes."

Twilight looked at him as if he were actually retarded.

"Peewee...died of natural causes."

Spike shrugged.

"Maybe?"

"And then stuffed himself into the garbage disposal."

"......it could happen."

"No, Spike, I'm pretty sure that it couldn't. This was murder, Spike."

"Murder most foul?"

"Yes! The worst kind of murder!"

She glugged down another third of the bottle.

"Do you have any idea what this is doing to my conscience, Spike?" she demanded. She looked a little unsteady on her hooves now. "Do you think I could live with myself, being the mother of a monster?!? Knowing that *hic* I brought a murderer into this world?!? And even if *hic* even if I am and I did, what right *hic* whadright do they haveda...taygerawayfrum me, *hic*eben iv she iz...Nighdmare Moom...?!?!?!?"

Spike rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

"For the last time, Twilight, you're not actually her mother! And as much as I'd love an excuse to punt that annoying, creepy little hairball back into the woods where she belongs, you can't jump to conclusions just because of a few little--"

Spike cut himself off suddenly, when he realized that Twilight had lost consciousness, and was now lying sprawled out on the floor of the library. He sighed again, and went upstairs to the sleeping loft.

He returned a moment later, lifted her head, and stuffed a pillow under it. Then he threw a blanket on top of her.

"Get some sleep, you little drunken angel," he muttered.

He sat down to finish his pipe.