A Slayer's Love

Nearly a dozen people, within just as many days. Some simply wandered off without telling anyone, others went in search, only for them to go missing themselves. It wasn't something Sunset could in good conscience ignore. She had only been passing through town, but who knew when their call for aid would reach anyone else, or how many would go missing before then?

Clues were few, but the testimony of one witness had kept playing back in Sunset's mind on her way into the woods, following the dirt paths and broken branches. One of the first who had gone had been adamant to go, to see his wife. A wife who, according to others in town, had been buried years ago.

Now, Sunset looked down at the man with pity. His stare was blank, like he saw through her, one hand weakly lifted like he was hoping to seize something just above him, the axe he had wildly swung at her still limply in the grasp of the other, which he could no longer move. The panicked frenzy with which he had moved before had faded entirely.

"Tart, I'm sorry... I tried..." he whispered, with fading desperation. Sunset could see him grow cold as the blood pooled underneath him.

"This wasn't your fault," she said firmly, turning her sword in her hand, pointing the blade downwards. "Sun preserve your soul," she added with a mutter, before the sharp point drove through his chest. A quicker end than his wounds would have granted him. Or the frenzy, for that matter.

She looked up, not lingering on him any longer. It could barely be called a clearing, but the branches above were light enough to allow daylight to be shed onto the trampled mud and broken branches. More had been through here, wading, running, and dragging. And all the prints formed a trail, leading further inward, into the darker parts of the forest.

Sunset took a moment, looking up past the branches, hoping for a glimpse of the sun. As always, when she steeled herself for what she might find in nests and lairs, she called to mind her mentor's words and encouragements. She wiped her sword clean, ensured that the straps of her breastplate and pauldrons hadn't loosened, and pressed on.

It didn't take long until she found what she was looking for. It was plainly on the path, mere minutes from the treeline bordering the town, far closer than she had expected any more obvious danger. Goblins, gnolls, timber wolves, those hid themselves deep in woods and caves until it was time to rush out and strike. Not within the distance of a brisk walk, hoping somebody will stumble onto them.

That realisation was nearly as unsettling than what she actually found: The trees had taken back the walls of what remained of a tower, branch and root grasping onto and into stone, only a single story and a half remaining of what Sunset recognised as a Lunar Age watchtower, the wooden doors long rotted and fallen apart, leaving in their place a gaping stone arch, partially cracked and crumbling, granting free view of the interior. Woven from vines and membranes, in a green so deep and dark it shifted into black in the wrong light, strange cocoons stuck to the walls, connected by the same vines that spread across the stone and rotted wood like the web of a massive spider.

Sunset had researched and fought monsters spanning the entire country, from shore caverns to dingy basement dungeons, but never had she seen growths like these. But even at just a glance, a single word came to mind: Infestation.

The smallest part of her trembled and tugged at her to turn and run and never come back. Arguably, it was the more rational part of her, but she never even considered listening to it. She adjusted the grip on her weapon and whispered a short mantra while running her fingertips over the blade, growing its metallic sheen into a warm light, holding it raised to light her way as she stepped forward through the arch.

The light glistened on the membranes and every movement shifted the shadows of the vines across the walls, as if they were slowly curling and writhing. Sunset listened, taking every step slowly and keeping her eyes on the walls and openings, with an occasional glance upwards, where the canopy of overgrown trees created a natural roof to the broken tower.

When she got closer to one of the cocoons, she held her gaze on the open room for a long moment, before finally daring to shift her attention to the strange pod, holding her sword away so the reflective glare did not impede her vision. It was translucent, not fully opaque, but requiring her to lean close enough that her hair gently touched the surface. She nearly started back once she could actually make out what was inside.

A woman laid in the pod, pressed onto the wall, her body grasped and cradled by small vines. Her eyes were open wide but glassy, her lips parted but her mouth not ajar, betraying some remaining simile of life, despite her veins standing out against her pale skin like black scars.

Sunset glanced back into the room, quickly counting how many of the cocoons she could make out. The number got close to matching that of the missing townfolk, including the one she had met with on the way. He was already beyond help and yet these others were in for something much worse, no doubt. She rose the blade, setting the point against the sturdy membrane, hoping to aim somewhere close to the woman's heart.

"Sunset!"

Startled, Sunset turned and set her feet against the ground in a firm stance, pulling the blade back in front of her, its light cast onto the figure standing bright-eyed under the stone arch. Bright curls spilled forth from underneath the ill-matching cap, onto the doublet of faded blues and yellows, a cacophony of small instruments dangling form the girl's belt.

"Pinkie?" Sunset lowered her sword, the shock first eased by relief, then turning into renewed anxiety. She quickly strode forward, casting a searching glance through the crumbling room again. If the monster was waiting for a time to attack, this was it. "What are you doing here? Why would you leave the city, you know I was on my way!"

"But you took too long and I started getting bored and I thought you're definitely on some exciting adventure and I just had to see it!" Pinkie's voice carried and Sunset was surprised it didn't echo from the stone and into the woods. She quickly put a hand on her shoulder, her blade held off to the side.

"If you know I'm busy, then you know it's dangerous," she urged, looking at her pleadingly. "You need to get back to town, now, before something worse finds us!"

Pinkie's smile widened and she crossed her hands behind her back in an exaggerated display of bashfulness. "Aww, are you worried about me?"

There was a strange twist in her voice that felt off, a gleam in her eyes that didn't feel wrong per se, but out of place. Something that pushed itself warningly to the forefront of Sunset's mind. "Of course I'm worried. Now please hurry back to town."

"Ooh, I have a better idea!" Pinkie reached her hands up to embrace her, pushing forward into a big hug. "Why don't you stay-"

Sunset shoved her back and pushed herself away at the same time, nearly tripping over one of the vines covering the floor as she fell back into a careful stance, her arm outstretched with the bright metal pointing at her friend's chest. "You're not her," she said firmly, her voice as cold as the sudden, firm realisation.

"Whaaat?" Pinkie looked shocked at first, then sighed with an exaggerated shrug. "But I was doing so well, wasn't I!?"

"Pinkie may play the fool, but she knows danger. Besides, I should have heard at least one of her instruments if she was really wandering through the woods. Now where is she?"

Pinkie's expression twisted into a grin that wasn't impossible, but so entirely unlike her that it may as well have stretched her jaw out of place. Her voice dropped into a lower register in a similar display of failed mimicry. "Oh, who knows? Maybe she's back in the city, safe and sound. Or maybe she's right here." She gestured dramatically into the nest.

"Don't play with me," Sunset bit back, considering her words for a terrifying moment, but pushing them away. "This is what you do. You lure them in with the face of a friend."

"Aww and this one wasn't convincing enough? Poor Pinkie." Her voice distorted over the sickening crunching and crackling of the convulsions of her body. Pinkie's visage was gone, shifting and stretching and rearranging itself until she looked like someone different. The curls straightened out and darkened, the doublet softened and stretched into a long robe and a frame of bent silver spectacles twisted itself over the shorter nose.

"You like this one more, don't you?" Twilight asked with an innocence that didn't nearly feel as fake as Sunset knew it to be. "I can taste it, you know. The way your heart twists when you think of her."

Sunset's hand trembled. She saw it, she saw it change. She knew the charade, she had seen behind the curtain, yet when she looked past her blade, it was her friend she saw, her inquisitive smile, her delicate fingers sliding a strand of dark hair behind her ear in the same way. "Stop it."

"But don't you like me?" Twilight put a hand on the blade and pushed it aside. With a flicker, the light died, leaving both of them in the dark, illuminated only by weakening, distant daylight and the green glow of the membranes around them. "Don't you want to sit together again? And fall asleep while I read you stories?"

What if she was here? What if everything else was the trick? What if she struck out at her closest friend, confident she was slaying a monster, only to end up with Twilight's blood on her hands? The thought made her veins run cold. Even just the idea of such a loss drove her to take a step closer, the sudden burning desire in her chest to wrap her arms around Twilight's shoulders and hold her close, bathe in her warmth and doze off together in the sunlight, like they had done so many times in the castle's courtyard.

But it's not her!

Sunset bit down hard, blood from her lip tasting hot and bitter on her tongue. She forced the doubts back, despite their unrelenting protest, and pulled her sword arm back, only to force the edge into Twilight's side with a quick swing. Twilight's expression twisted to shock, then pain, then taunting delight.

"Oh, you're a treat." Sharp pain shot through Sunset's side and her upper arm. She yelped out and instinctively went to pull back, but whatever pierced her was still lodged inside. "You love her so much! And yet... and yet!" Twilight's skin turned a deep, glistening black, her lower jaw split in two, both halves unhinging like a monstrous snake ready to devour her. Her eyes became sickening green pools, widening in ecstatic thrill. "Oh, I want all of it! Your love for her! Your love for them!"

Sunset's mind twisted with the pain, but she could still make out the forceful grip on her legs, curling ever upwards. She tried to pull her weapon free from the wound, but was met with fierce resistance and tense creaking and scraping, finally culminating in a loud metallic snap.

Her lips parted but only a pained groan escaped her, none of the intricate words needed for a sophisticated spell. Instead, she raised her free hand between her and the creature, forcing her eyes shut before releasing as much of her magic as she could through her palm. The creature wailed at the sudden bright flash and whatever it had forced into her body retreated.

With a quick thrust, Sunset stabbed downwards, metal scraping over stone, but catching the vines that had begun to encircle her. With another tug of her legs, they snapped and she stumbled blindly away, her shoulder hitting the stone arch. She tried to blink the darkness out of her eyes and lifted her weapon again, turning to face the thing.

Its fingers were long and pointed, dripping with Sunset's blood. It was tall and wiry, its skin glistening like the carapace of a beetle, dark, jagged horns protruding from Twilight's hair. Her previous strike had been a good one, splitting the creature's side open, spilling green blood. And yet, the only remaining evidence of that success was the other half of her blade, still stuck in the abdomen where the smooth exoskeleton had already covered the wound.

In that moment, Sunset let the smallest part win. Whilst the thing still covered its eyes under agitated snarls, she stumbled and pushed herself away, through the arch, feeling her hot blood running down her side, every twist of the muscles of her sword arm sending new shocks of pain through her chest.

"Sunset!" Twilight was screaming, crying, pure desperation and terror in every word. "Sunset, don't leave me! Please, help me!"