Daring Do: Shadows Over Equestria

“Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui. Micca Ahuizotl chixtoc temiqui…”

The ceaseless chant carried Daring Do forward through the dense, fog-blanketed woods. Her heart hammered in her chest, but her hooves carried her inexorably forward, as though she were being pulled forward by an invisible string attached to her chest. Figures flitted around the edges of her vision, indistinct in the darkness, but horribly suggestive to her imagination.

The menhirs, whole once more, burst from the fog like they’d burst from the ground. The flat slabs were stained with fresh blood, still running down the sides and trickling onto the ground; the overpowering stench almost made Daring gag.

A blade sat on the closest stone, the handle pointed towards her, stained with red down to the very end. Daring’s hooves continued to move towards the stone. One hoof raised up to take the blade and Daring’s heart rate sped up, as though her heart itself were trying to flee the imminent danger. She fought against the impulse, pulled against the magnetic draw, silently screamed in desperation despite her jaw refusing to give voice to her terror.

The handle was cold and damp in her hoof. Gasping in panic, Daring raised it up and turned it about so the dripping blade was aimed at her chest.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Daring looked up. Darlene was standing across the stone from her, blood seeping from the open wound in her chest. Tears ran from her eyes.

Her pupils had shifted to the horrible tri-lobed shape on the stela.

A heavy growl sounded behind Daring, and stinking, hot breath assaulted her back. She knew the Ahuizotl was behind her, waiting, hungry. The scream finally erupted from her chest as she plunged the knife home–

“Professor? Professor?”

Daring Do woke up with a gasp, bolting upright from her desk and sending the essays that she’d been grading flying everywhere. Twilight Sparkle backed away quickly, raising her hooves. “Easy, easy, it’s just me!” she cried.

“Cálmate, mi amiga,” Caballeron soothed, entering from his place at the door and patting Daring’s back.

Daring sighed and mopped her sweaty brow, taking slow breaths to steady her pounding heart. “Sorry. Bad dream,” she mumbled.

“We guessed,” Caballeron said. “You were mumbling in your sleep.” He frowned pensively at Daring. “You look awful, amiga. Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Some,” Daring mumbled, fighting through the haze that clouded her thoughts. “What time is it?”

“A little after two,” Caballeron said. “You have time before your next class. We just didn’t think that Dean Paper would appreciate seeing you asleep.” He paused with a small grin. “Plus, we had something to tell you.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Twilight said, frowning at Caballeron. “But Doctor Caballeron thinks that he might have a lead on translating the stela at the stones.”

“We were going over the literature and Spike found something que interesante,” Caballeron explained. “In 1756, an explorer named Beaten Trail went into the Everfree Forest on his own. He came out two months later claiming that he’d encountered a settlement of deer and had spent his time learning their language! He even wrote a script in his journal!”

“But he never presented any real proof that he found anything,” Twilight cut in. “Just some sketches and a rough map that turned out to be useless. He tried to publish his journals into a book, The Language and Customs of the Everfree Forest Deer, but it sold very poorly, and there are very few extant copies left. Even our library doesn’t have one.”

“But if we can find it, perhaps it will finally be the clue that allows us to understand the carvings!” Caballeron cried. “This will be the definitive proof that Beaten Trail was right all along!”

“That’s exciting, but don’t get ahead of yourself,” Daring cautioned. “You still have to find it.”

“I shall devote all of my time to finding a copy!” Caballeron declared.

“And I shall work on other research,” Twilight added, still frowning at the stallion. “I just hope that the police finish up their investigation soon so that we can access the site again.”

“Sounds good,” Daring said, stretching out her wings and massaging the kinks from her back. “I’ll…do some research of my own and check in with you later.”

“Bien. Hasta luego, I have classes,” Caballeron said, exiting with Twilight.

Daring Do regathered the wreckage of her work and tried to sort them back out, but her mind kept wandering back to the bodies on the stones. Darlene’s pale face seemed to hover before her gaze, dead eyes pleading silently: Why? Why? Why did I have to die?

Daring suddenly realized that she was three pages into an essay on the archaeological index of Mount Aris and had absorbed absolutely nothing. With a growl, she pushed the stack aside. “Fuck this shit,” she mumbled to herself. She pulled open a few drawers and after some fumbling around, pulled out her student directory for the year. She flipped it open to the section on doctoral students and began to run her primary feather down the long list of names.

The doctorate students of Golden Oaks University were housed in Smart Cookie Hall, a grand gray three-story edifice that sat near where the Great Valley River branched off towards the Sparkling Lake. The evening sun cast sparkling lights across the surface of the river, inviting some of the students to cool their hooves and paws in the inviting water after an unusually warm day, passing the time with studying, idle chatter, and even some fishing.

A few heads turned to track the golden pegasus as she glided down and landed in front of the doors, which she pushed open. The lobby within was cozy, with several well-loved but clean sofas set in a circle around a large round table in the center, a billiards table in one corner, and a piano in another. The low buzz of conversation abruptly stopped when Daring Do entered, leaving only the scratchy recital of a jazz trumpet playing from the phonograph somepony had set up on the table. The students gathered around the lobby all paused, gawking at Daring momentarily, then quickly turning away.

Daring took in a deep breath and stifled a growl. Like I’m in a damn zoo…She exited the lobby and headed down the side hallway towards the stairs. As soon as she rounded the corner, she heard the conversation behind her start up again in urgent, hushed tones.

Darlene Marigold had lived in Room 255 with her roommate, another physical hippology student by the name of Funny Bone. Daring emerged on the second floor, glanced around, and headed to the left, down the gray-carpeted hallway of uniform dorm rooms, some of them decorated with posters, photographs, and signs.

Something in a trash can caught her eye: a copy of this morning’s Ponyville Chronicle. Upon the front page was a photograph of a cluster of police cruisers, ambulances, and a white coroner’s van parked at the edge of the Everfree Forest. Whirling lights illuminated the shadows of the trees, and the group of grim-faced creatures emerging from them, bearing a series of stretchers occupied by closed body bags.

She hadn’t had time to grab her own paper that morning. Morbid curiosity bade Daring pluck the paper out of the trash. Violent Deaths, Vandalism at Everfree Forest Stone Circle! screamed the headline in bold typeface. Police Decline Comment on Apparent Ritual Sacrifice.

Daring had to swallow down bile as she read the article. As she’d suspected, most of it was alarmist filler speculating on the possible reasons why five seemingly sane individuals would destroy an archaeological site and slay themselves, or if there was something more to this. The police were naturally declining comment, though they did admit that they suspected that drugs were involved.

What was most important to Daring were the names. Darlene Marigold. Trimmed Hedge. First Star. Coffee Grounds. Iron Kettle. Page two included photographs of the five victims, using pictures provided by loved ones. In Daring’s gaze, the five smiling faces on the paper blurred into the pale death masks upon the stone slabs and her stomach clenched uncomfortably.

Shake it off, Daring. You have a job to do.

Tossing the newspaper back into the trash, Daring proceeded down the hallway, counting down the doors. “Two-fifty-nine…two-fifty-seven…two-fifty-five.” She knocked at the door.

After some muffled rummaging from within, the door cracked open. A white earth pony mare with short pink hair peeked out, her blue eyes widening when she saw her guest. “Er…Professor Do?”

“Funny Bone?” Daring asked softly. “I wanted to talk about Darlene.”

Funny Bone blinked several times, mouth twisting in uncertainty and grief, then sighed and opened up the door, revealing her cutie mark of a bone wearing a top hat. “Okay. Come in.”

The dorm room was like most others; a pair of bunk beds set up against one wall, two desks, and a pair of dressers, the furniture all the plain factory brand. The occupants had put their own temporary mark on the living space; one wall was occupied by posters of skeletons of ponies, griffons, hippogriffs, changelings, yaks, and other creatures. Another wall above a desk was decorated with posters advertising comedy shows: among them, Daring noted an autographed picture of Cheese Sandwich, the beaming stallion dressed in a vibrant Haywaiian shirt and playing an accordion.

Daring turned to the other desk, which she guessed was Darlene’s. The former student had kept her desk simply decorated. The most prominent decoration was a vase filled with vibrant marigolds. There were also a few framed photographs of her and her family at Whinnyland, sitting around a campfire, and laying in a field of flowers. One framed photograph, prominently displayed so that it could be seen from any part of the room, was of Darlene and Funny Bone standing in front of the oak tree in the campus quad, forelegs about each other’s shoulders, beaming at the camera.

Funny Bone sat down at her desk and leaned back. “So what?” she asked. “Did Darlene die because of some kinda curse on those stupid stones you found?”

Daring took a deep breath and sat down on the center of the floor. “Funny, I’m…” Whatever words she had been planning on saying withered and died in her throat beneath Funny Bone’s pain-filled glower.

Way to go, Daring. Like this isn’t awkward already.

Daring Do cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to intrude like this. I really can’t imagine what you’re feeling–”

“No. You can’t,” Funny Bone scowled. “You ever have a best friend that you had been with since your first day at University, somecreature who knew all of your deepest dreams and desires, and then one day there’s a cop at your door telling you that your best friend went out into the woods and stabbed herself?”

Daring remained silent, her insides squirming as Funny Bone continued to glare, tears now running down her face and her hooves trembling.

“No, no, I haven’t,” Daring finally said. “But I do know what it’s like to lose someone you love and not understand why.”

Funny Bone didn’t say anything, but her glare softened a bit.

“When I was a kid, my uncle died under…” Daring winced as the Thrussian chill bit into her once more, bringing Uncle Ad’s scream to her ears. “Well, let’s call them unusual circumstances. And I still don’t understand why. And I don’t want you to be left wondering, either. Besides, it was my site, and that makes it my responsibility.” She licked her lips. “Just…help me understand why this happened.”

The anger had all vanished from Funny Bone’s face, though the tears continued to silently fall. She sniffled and wiped her face before clearing her throat. “Okay,” she mumbled. “What did you want to know?”

“What can you tell me about…about the day it happened?” Daring asked.

Funny Bone wiped her face again. “Well…the days ahead of…that, she’d been acting kind of off. She wasn’t as focused on her studies as she should have been. The day before, we went for a walk around the quad and she talked about her life up to then, our lives together, about my dreams…” She swallowed, looking at the empty chair across from her. “It didn’t feel right…I knew it wasn’t and I should’ve–”

“Funny Bone, this isn’t your fault, okay?” Daring urged.

Funny Bone didn’t look convinced, but blinked rapidly and continued. “Anyway, I slept in a bit because I was studying for a test and when I woke up, it was a little after eight o’clock and I had class at nine. Darlene was sitting at her desk, looking out the window. When I was headed out, she pulled me into a hug. It was weird because she wasn’t normally that affectionate, but I was late and…” She sniffled and wiped her face again. “And that was the last time I saw her,” she whispered.

Daring was silent for a moment, her heart heavy as lead in her chest. “Had Darlene mentioned having strange dreams before?” she finally asked.

“She, um, did start having nightmares earlier this year,” Funny Bone admitted. “Around the fall, she started having bad nightmares like every other night. She…didn’t want to talk about them, but sometimes I heard her mumbling in her sleep about…’the beast.’”

Daring’s heart stopped.

“And, um, a couple of nights ago, I heard her whispering something about stones and blood while she was taking a nap,” Funny Bone continued. “I shook her awake and for a while, she didn’t know where she was. I told her that she should talk to a therapist, but she insisted that she was fine and they were just dreams.”

“Was Darlene into drugs?” Daring asked.

“No! Why would you say that?!” Funny Bone cried, a little too fast.

Daring Do was no trained interrogator, but years of experience had taught her to recognize when a student was lying to her. “Funny, I already know,” Daring said gently. “I’m not going to judge her, or you.”

Funny Bone squirmed in her seat, looking about for several seconds, then sighed. “She…started using this powder during the late winter, when the dreams were getting worse. She insisted it wasn’t illegal, and she was using it for the dreams, but it still felt kinda fishy. I mean, it did seem to help with the dreams a bit, but…” She sighed in disgust. “Why the hell didn’t I say something?” she berated herself.

“Do you know where she got it?” Daring asked.

Funny Bone sighed again. “One time, we went out to O’Falconers, the bar across the street, to destress after a tough set of tests. I went to the bathroom and when I came out, I saw that she was talking to some griffon in a raincoat. When she saw me come out, she took something from her and came back. She didn’t talk about it, and we left soon after.”

“What did the griffon look like?” Daring pressed.

Funny Bone thought. “She was black, with greenish feathers…and she was wearing an old rain jacket and a Manehattan Opals cap. I dunno, I didn’t get a good look at her.”

“Thank you, Funny. You’ve been a big help.” Daring patted Funny on the shoulder as she headed out, then paused at the threshold.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this really wasn’t your fault. And you really should see a counselor,” she added.

Funny sniffled, the tears falling fresh. “Thank you, Professor,” she croaked out as Daring closed the door behind her.

Daring took flight, gliding down the hall and winding her way down the stairs. The heavy weight in Daring’s chest was melting, turning into a venomous heat that spread through her entire body, banishing grief, banishing thought.

She exited Smart Cookie Hall and sped to the south, cruising over the campus. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, giving way to the oncoming purples, blues, and black of the night. Street lamps along the sidewalks were winking on, false stars reflecting the true ones above. The stream of students and faculty that normally clogged the sidewalks had slowed to a trickle, a few remaining bodies headed to evening classes or back to dorms.

Daring reached Three Roses Street, which marked the southern boundary of the campus. O’Falconers was instantly and immediately obvious: the tavern was nearly as old as Golden Oaks University and had plied thirsty students and faculty with cheap liquor from the day it opened its doors. The bar’s name was displayed in golden lettering above the doorway, lit from beneath by a set of lights to attract all and sundry to the liquid gold within.

Daring opened the door and was instantly assailed by the odor of stale beer, mintdust, and roasted vegetables. Only a few tables and stools were occupied by hunched figures nursing liquor and munching on bar fare; a couple of ponies at the bar glanced up at her before returning to their own business. She glanced to one side and briefly met eyes with a stallion in a red rain jacket puffing on a cigarette, then the stallion grunted and bent back over his bourbon, pulling his Ponyville Manticores cap down over his eyes.

“Well, if it isn’t the famous archaeologist,” crowed the bartender, a gray-blue griffon with watery green eyes. “What’s your poison, Professor?”

Daring glanced around and failed to spot any griffon hens in raincoats. Rats. I suppose it would be too easy.

“Johnnie Trotter, straight,” she said, taking a seat at the bar next to a lanky blue unicorn in a . As the bartender gathered up her whiskey, Daring cast another look around the bar, but the raincoat-clad griffon had failed to appear.

“You seen a black and green griffon wearing a Manehattan Opals cap recently?” she asked the bartender as the griffon plunked a glass in front of her and poured out a couple of feathers of the amber liquid.

“Friend of yours?” the bartender asked.

“I was supposed to meet her here,” Daring nodded.

The bartender shook his head. “Might’ve seen someone like that a few times, but I get a couple hundred creatures coming through those doors every day. I wouldn’t remember.”

Daring sighed and took a long drink from the glass, trying to focus on the burn of alcohol running down her throat. She set the glass down and signaled for another. The bartender obligingly poured out another shot before turning to tend to another patron further down the bar.

Daring sullenly sipped at her whiskey. Well, now what, genius?

“You’ve been having weird dreams, right?”

Daring turned about. The lanky blue unicorn to her right was looking at her, his bagged indigo eyes wide and intense.

“About the blue dog-like monster?” he continued in a whisper. “Sleeping in a temple?”

“I, um…” Daring stammered. “How’d you know?” she found herself asking.

“Because I’ve dreamed of him, too,” her new friend continued. “You’re not alone in this. I know it’s scary and confusing at first, seeing something so strange every night. But he’s no monster. He’s trying to communicate with you. To tell you that you are meant for something better than this–”

A shock of rage raced through Daring’s body. “Like Darlene Marigold was meant for something better?” she snapped.

The unicorn leaned away, his eyes wide now with shock. “Wha…er…” He gulped, his eyes darting for the door.

Daring seized him by the shoulders. “What did you do to Darlene?” she snarled.

Too late, she saw the unicorn’s horn light up. Pain suddenly erupted from the back of her head and liquid soaked into her mane; he’d struck her on the head with her own shot glass. She reflexively let go of her target with a grunt, and the unicorn raced for the door, crashing right through the obstacle.

“Get back here!” Daring shouted, shaking off the pain as she shot after her prey.

She burst through the door and glared around the street. The unicorn was currently sprinting across the street, dodging around a car that screeched to a sudden halt with a blaring of horns. “Gotcha!” Daring shouted as she pounced, tackling him to the asphalt.

“Get off me!” her foe shouted, shoving her to one side and slamming her against the grille of the car. Daring roared in fury and pain as her target slipped from her grasp once more. She stood back up as the unicorn did the same. The light of the headlines reflected off the blade of the knife that he drew from his vest.

A whistling sound pierced the air.

The unicorn yelped as something struck his hoof, sending the knife skittering across the asphalt. “What the–?!”

Both ponies turned to watch the boomerang arc through the air and return to the hoof of the brown earth pony in the red rain jacket. The cold, furious gray eyes beneath the Ponyville Manticores cap were focused on the unicorn, fixing their befuddled target in place.

The doors of a nearby parked car slammed open. “You’re gonna wanna give up, son,” declared a blonde-maned unicorn in a trenchcoat as he exited the parked car. A red griffon climbed out of the passenger seat, both of them flashing golden badges.

The unicorn glared around, panting, then sighed and sat down, raising his hooves to his head.

Trace Evidence and Red Herring stepped forward and cuffed their suspect, quickly patting down his vest. From his pocket came a collection of small baggies of vivid purple powder.

“Thanks, guys, but I could’ve handled it,” Daring said.

“Yeah,” Red Herring grunted, glaring at her. “Like we could’ve handled this before you fucked this all up.”

Phillip Finder shook his head at Daring. “Bloody fine mess you got yourself into, Professor.”