Few had to endure such hideous fates as these, fewer were made subject to such boorish wickedness, and even fewer were required by their mere association with the Princess of Friendship to be doomed to an evening of unfortunate formal drudgery. Still, as her assistant and counselor of her school, perks a plenty were never far. Free food certainly being up there. She loosened the collar of her dress as subtly as a sparkling turquoise aura would allow. Painfully, she played it off as adjusting her lavish necklace. Rarity had insisted politely at first then kindly demanded she don the whole ensemble, hefty gems and all if she were even to be seen at this event.
"Believe me, being seen at this thing in any capacity is the last thing I want to do."
"Darling, don't be so childish groaning like that. I can't understand why you don't see it as an honor. Attending the Grand Crystal Commemoration Ball as the official attaché of the Princess of Friendship? Twilight is our friend and all, but such a privilege and you being the pony chosen for it. If it were me in your place, I could hardly contain my gratitude. That's what this corset...," she paused to latch onto one of the straps with her teeth, giving it a firm yank and forcing a grunt from her victim, "...is for! Now please, stow that sour expression away. Consider what it is you're really doing, dear." With a gentle nudge from her hoof, she directed Starlight to look in the mirror. "You are destined to succeed Twilight after she's been elevated. These things are part and parcel to the position she holds now. The one you're to hold in the future. It is truly a wonderful blessing, one that makes all that you call 'dog and pony shows' worth enduring. Don't you think?"
Her memory wandered through that conversation again, the sweet firmness of Rarity's words, the extraordinary display she saw in that mirror, the dread that held all daydreaming of glory at bay. Could she really assume such a mantle? Fill the massive horseshoes Twilight would be leaving behind? It seemed so daunting, nearly impossible. Magic and its endless pursuit was one matter. She'd had hiccups, yes, but overall small trouble with mastering the art. But such grandiose administration that essentially all of Equestria looked to for guidance? How could she stand before it all and risk disappointing any of them? Especially her mentor, her friend, the only pony who saw she was worth saving, let alone loving. Tonight, she would have to prove to them all Twilight's choice those years ago was not made foolishly. A fair many naysayers still retained serious doubt about her being let off the hook. There were even those in that same group who'd cried her horn be broken and herself paraded to the gallows. Yet, there had only ever been one who'd tried. That someone was actually executed. In fact, the very heinousness of their actions demanded the resurrection of the archaic practice. She was there for it, unwillingly too. Far more so than here.
A wandering mind always plagued her with memories when dread roiled her insides. Possibly a gut response to distract her from the butterflies, but this was no time to retreat into herself. It was no use. She couldn't shove the horrible scene away. The concoction of dread paired with disgust turned her stomach worse than she could ignore. She'd need something to settle it. She'd bypass her utter lack of appetite with sheer iron will. She'd force herself directly to the concession table, down something solid, and follow it with a bit of punch. Hopefully then her nerves would soothe enough to get her up on stage. As casually as she could, she trotted over to the table, greeting the few who she passed close to, politely ignoring those who called from farther away. Not much further now. It was getting close. Dandelion sandwiches with little olives skewered through, cinnamon-sugar-sprinkled hay-fries, roasted butter-pears, zap-apple pies! Her mind wanted all of it. Her body wanted none of it. Something lighter, something lighter! Come on! Wait, were those seaweed chips? Perfect! Not ideal, yet enough to hold her over. Her gait quickened. The additional bounce from her steps was of little help and littler concern. Time was short. Eat now or lose her lunch. And finally! She- was interrupted suddenly by a random unicorn.
"Starlight!"
"Uh, hi! Do I... know you?" She said this trying to scoot around the pony who somehow failed to see the urgency of the situation. He followed in scoot.
"You do, actually. Little Miss Miracle's Academy for the Surprisingly Gifted. We were classmates, remember? I sat behind you. Was a part of that study group for end-of-year exams. I even lent you my notes that one time."
Starlight had no time for more memories. Now or never. Chips in guts or guts in toilet. "Sorry, not ringing any bells." She'd no time for courtesy either, pushing the fellow out of the way to get at her quarry. An abrupt tug on the hem of her dress stopped her again. Her eyes turned to find that the unicorn had caught it in his magic. A fiery glare burned deadly toward him in a violent blue gleam, daring him to keep the dress in his clutch. Fortunately for them both, he wasn't that ignorant. His horn sparked out. For a moment, though, something about him held her gaze. Starlight noticed then, if only briefly, a strange glint in the crystal hue of his eyes. A glint in them that seemed... familiar. Before she looked away, he'd one more thing to say.
"Sorry about that. Those seaweed chips aren't exactly fresh. I saw one of the sous-chefs tote it in here sometime after everything else was laid out. A few have already eaten them. They've been in the restrooms since over an hour ago. I checked them myself and," he added this last remark with his snout crinkled in disgust, "I actually think I saw some moving." He paused, slightly gagging, and collecting himself said with a wink , "Wouldn't want you to miss your big day."
She shook her head in disbelief, but couldn't refrain from taking a cursory inspection of the late-arrived dish. Horrified, she saw it. Teeny, twig-like feelers jutted from one of the chips that appeared to haul themselves toward her. That was it. The last straw. "I think I'm gonna be sick," she managed to burp out. Then it was a race to salvation at the porcelain throne.
"Don't be too long in there!" The unicorn called out. Not a mite of her cared if she spent the whole night heaving her insides up. It was a decent excuse. Still, there was a new dread to face. The pain of anxiety forcing itself out of her system. So many eyes clicked to the galloping attaché of the Princess. Somehow, she'd handle all the press, all the questions, and hell maybe even turn this whole scene around where the bad parts would be remembered with a laugh in the future. Maybe even Twilight... Oh Celestia, could she handle Twilight? Surely it was just the butterflies, but the devastatingly disappointed face of her best friend seared itself starkly in her vision. That nearly took her out. BAM! BAM! Restroom and stall doors flung open before Twilight could watch her completely lose it in front of everyone. Terrible sounds of retching, sloppy splashes of loose wet chunks carried out through her esophagus in fits of choked coughing by torturously contracting muscles. One round. Another. Celestia's sake, another! Now everything solid was out, but her body switched to dry heaving at round four. Round five. Round six. Celestia, she prayed for a knockout. Then, a pause. Moments passed in waves marked by her now steadily pounding head. Was it over? "ULP!" No! Wait... *buuurrp*. That was the last of it. Thank goodness. Whatever failed to land in the toilet, she managed to clean up with a simple spell and then concluded the miserable experience with a flush.
The strain of casting out demons left her too tired to magic open the door, so she settled for poking it open with her horn. There above the sinks hung the gleaming mirror, determined to reveal all to whomever gazed deep enough into it. Maybe more than she'd be willing to find out. Streaked eyeliner, mucus dripping from her snout, a trail of spittle on her chin, bloodshot eyes, mussed hair. From another pony's perspective, one might say she'd just had a good cry. She did, sort of. Hard to hold back tears when your stomach refuses to hold back anything at all. "*Gasp!* Oh no, the dress!" she exclaimed. She thought she'd been careful enough, but those stains were damning. Considering she could just use the cleaning spell again, it wasn't that big of a deal. The real matter lay in the reflection. How what in it privately exposed what pomp and circumstance hid in public. A messy failure of a unicorn who couldn't keep the barest minimum of composure for more than five minutes. A unicorn without respect nor care for all the effort her friends put into loving her. To correct it all in a simple magical gesture seemed... dishonest. "A lie will remain a lie," she found herself lamenting aloud. Now she really began to cry. In fitful whimpers and heaving sobs, she shivered as her body drained the last of its fluids out through her eyes.
Groooooaaannn! A different cry from another stall caught her attention. An educated guess suggested it was one of the poor ponies who'd eaten the bad seaweed. Still, how embarrassing! She'd performed that whole scene with an unexpected audience. Just another mark of shame for tonight. Apologizing now certainly wouldn't alleviate the blush that filled her tear-stained cheeks. She opted to quickly spark her horn for the cleanup and make her exit without disturbing the other mare further.
GROOOOAAANNN! "Oh, sweet Celestia! Please, make it stop!!" The mare cried again far louder, her plea filled with a mournful desperation. She sounded like she was in actual agony instead of only suffering from a worse than usual case of indigestion. Starlight was caught in a bit of indecision. It was a fair chance this girl was in serious pain, but would it be a social faux pas to intrude on her while she dealt with her own "exorcism?" Possibly, but she herself wouldn't have minded if someone had knocked on the stall door earlier to ask if she was ok. Couldn't hurt, she thought. The Princess of Friendship helps everyone where she can. Wheeling around, she cautiously made her way to the stall that echoed those wails.
She called out, "Excuse me, miss. Is everything all ri-"
"AAAUUUGGGHHH!! IT HURTS! IT HURTS *GROAN* SO MUCH. JUST GET OUT OF ME! GET *URP* OUT!"
Oh no. Starlight felt that mare's panic radiate into her. "Just hold on! I'll get a doctor. I'm sure there's about five of them out there."
"Unnhh... I'm *ulp* s-sorry. I... can't, ugh, hold....uunnhh." The feebleness in those words betrayed how much trouble she was truly in.
"Yes you can! I promise, I'll be right back. No more than five seconds. Just-"
Never had Starlight heard such a noise as ghastly as what interrupted her. Some devil-possessed gurgling of gastric gasses rumbled the whole restroom for an eternity of a moment. Faintly following it was the poor girl's strained reply.
"Oh... bad."
Tartarus, it's said, existed in a single plane. She'd been there. She'd seen it. Breathed its rank air. That theory was called into serious question in that once crystal clean space built for relief and refreshment. All at once it became as that wicked place's foulest depths. She was reminded even of what the foals back home did after Nightmare Night: they'd round up all the rotten (and some not) pumpkins to catapult them at crudely fashioned targets. That barely describes what she heard, what she saw, what she smelt. It'd be easier imagining those pumpkins were pregnant with blistering, puss-filled sores whose membranes could no longer withstand the growing pressure. Eventually, their thin prisons could repress the fluids no longer. They exploded. Messily. Continuously. Until there was nothing left that could identify the vegetable viscera as pumpkin. Except here, they didn't explode so much as be violently expunged in a horrendous gastrointestinal eruption garnished by muffled wails. Her ears flattened against her head. Her body reeled back from the unnatural disaster. Whatever exhaustion she'd felt earlier washed away in the spike of panicked adrenaline. It kept enough of her wits swirling about for her to erect a magical barrier. Not a moment too soon, either. It stood stalwart, blocking the onslaught of biological debris cascading out, over, between, and under.
Everywhere there flew sickeningly green-orange splashings of some foul, viscous slime. Oh Celestia, these were moving too! Hundreds, no, thousands of those same small unholy creatures crawled along every surface they'd struck. Each one stretched their thin, stick-like phalanges towards her, quivering in anticipation of invading her body like they did the others. How could there possibly be so many from a few chips?! Did they rapidly multiply inside that girl until... oh no. If this happened to her, it'd certainly happen to the others. She'd need to find more than the attending physicians. She needed Twilight. Hell, Cadence too and every other bright-minded, determined, preferably iron-stomached individual that could help contain - and hopefully cure - this nightmare. Further inspection of the wriggling green masses revealed an additional horror, making her wonder if there was even a pony left to cure. Giblets and gobbets of crystal flesh trimmed with streaks of splattered blood littered themselves appropriately among the living-dead debris. Some morbid curiosity briefly welded her to that spot. Yet wiser, far more urgent thoughts prevailed, setting herself to first quarantine this restroom then fetch someone more qualified to handle this. The current barrier would hold plenty long enough so a seal could be placed on the entire restroom.
With a couple of firm taps on it to reassure herself, she did her best to put her squeamishness out of her mind and hastily leave for more pleasant scenery. Fates willing, she'd find somebody immediately. On second thought, better she scream for help instead of discretely asking for it. That pony needed saving now! To and through the door then out before she'd vomit again. It was still, however, a night of hold-ups. A new sound sputtered guttural in what she swore was a cry for, "...h-heeeh...heeell...hhhelp." Pity nearly moved her in the wrong way, but she resisted that urge to help where it wouldn't make sense. The door was opened. An ominous creak screeched terribly, sending a sordid resonance down her spine, standing her fur on end. Her ears in perfect alert. Her body in petrified movement. Her eyes in locked contact with the wrong portal. Every moment carried in slow motions. Sweat droplets coalesced on her forehead, her face, travelled down her chin and drip, drip, dripped onto the crystalline tiles. That sonorous creaking ceased, revealing sinister, tendrilled shadows writhing inside the stall. In the middle of it lay what Starlight figured was the silhouette of the poor mare, shattering all her optimism. At least it had the courtesy to kill you, she thought. She muttered a brief prayer that her soul would find peace and again went for the exit.
On the other side, she reignited her horn, superheated the crystal down the door jamb, melting the gap closed then sat right down while the seal cooled. Just a few seconds for a breather. I've got time. No pony to save now anyhow, she reasoned to herself. Now that she was back in the ballroom, she didn't recall the party being this quiet.
"...starlight..." Her ears perked up, catching what she thought was the muffled sound of someone calling her name. Strange, she was hearing just fine earlier. She'd definitely cleaned her ears out well after her bath today.
"...Starlight..." A little louder now, just enough for the voice to be distinguished as...
"Twilight!" Starlight shouted. She hadn't realized how much she needed to see her friend in that moment. Tears welled up again as she looked to embrace that wonderful alicorn and... darkness. Oh no, was she losing her vision too? Was she infected? Did one of those feelers get on her? Did she fail to get the barrier up in time?
"Starlight." That wasn't Twilight.
"Starrrrllliiigghht." There was some nascent fear that hadn't managed to grip her yet. With the adrenaline wearing off, it consumed her in full unrelenting force. Paralyzed, quivering, speechless, the oppressive voice echoed deeply from within and without.
"You have forgotten the seas, Starlight. You have forgotten me."
Forget?! She never forgot! She wanted to rebuke the accusation, but no words could she find. Like the very atmosphere restricted her speech, forced her mouth shut. It made her tongue as stone. Stopped up her nostrils. Stole her breath. Breath! She couldn't breathe! Panic swelled within her. No air, no air! No ground!, she panicked. Her hooves suddenly found nothing solid beneath them. And sinking, flailed, begged her mouth to open, her nostrils to unclog, but all felt as water. The voice answered her anguish.
"You have broken your word."
Whatever had latched her lips shut immediately released. In irrational desperation, she inhaled deep only for her lungs to fill with saltwater. Yet, and how strange it was, whatever stress had been assaulting her simply vanished, replaced by a peace so deep it was like... the dark. Breathing came naturally. Surrendering to the waters felt... simple and never before had she felt sleep come upon her so easily. Too easily. Then a final call from the voice reached what remained conscious of her drifting mind.
"You shall not abandon me again. Be still, and let the sea claim its due." Somewhere in that black ocean above her a triplet of jade lights emerged, then exploded into glimmering view. Pain. Excruciating. Abysmal. It enveloped her the moment those lights appeared. A thousand, thousand stinging pricks coursed over her. Tiny bumps grew then burst on every inch of her flesh to reveal branching feelers. She was helpless but to watch them increase in size, burrowing along the centerline of her abdomen. If she could scream, she'd have split her lungs to match her splitting skin, ribcage, stomach, and... Twilight!, she shouted frantically for her in her head. Twiiiliiight! Please! Help me! Nothing, no answer. Save for the rippling of the water and muted sounds of brutality. No pony to save now anyhow. Her own words replayed in her head hopelessly.
"Starlight!" Was that actually Twilight? No, a hallucination. Part of her still thought she could escape.
"Starlight!" The vision evaporated instantly. In its place was the worried face of that precious purple pony shaking her awake.
"Twilight?"
"Starlight!" She embraced her friend. What happened after she left the restroom? "You're ok! I swore, I thought I'd lost you. One of those things lodged itself in the back of your neck. I had to zap it off. I'm guessing you were in contact with one of the infected in there. It must have shaken you up pretty badly if you forgot to cast a health ward on yourself. I threw one on you when I was sure you were ok."
"One of those things...," Starlight repeated. There on the floor beside her smoldered the remnants of a feeler, no longer twitching. Twilight read the horrified expression on Starlight's face.
"Don't worry! I promise, you're not going to end up like whatever you saw in there. We're not sure why, but single feelers can only induce hallucinations during the initial thirty seconds of contact. I caught it before it could..." she paused looking for the right way to explain it. "...burrow itself deeper. Looks like it goes for the spinal cord at the withers. Celestia knows what happens inside a pony when they consume it. All we know are the results."
She found it hard to believe, but when it came to Twilight, she couldn't help but trust that reassuring look. Still, it didn't keep her from touching a hoof to the back of her neck only to snap it away at the stinging of singed flesh. Twilight looked guilty.
"I'm so sorry, Starlight. After seeing what happened to those other ponies, I was just so afraid. I didn't think to hold back. Oh Celestia, if you'd ended up like one of them..." she trailed off, attempting to choke back tears.
Starlight quickly reassured her friend. "Twilight, look at me. That didn't happen. It almost did, but it didn't. You saved me before it could." Starlight managed a half-hearted laugh. "You've done nothing but save me. I'm not sure if I can repay any of it."
Twilight gave her friend a gentle smile, something that spoke volumes. "You have more than you realize, Starlight. But if you want to do more, I'll need you to follow me to the temporary hospital we've set up."
Starlight nodded, following after her friend. The gathering was no longer the pleasant scenery Starlight had hoped for. Devoid of all festivities, now lay only a dismal ballroom. No ponies chatting, feasting, dancing, smiling, no sign whatsoever of a merry evening. What little life did remain were hazard-suited cleaning teams, probably dispatched by the Praetorian Guard, scrubbing and burning away at the floors, the walls... Celestia's sake, it was practically everywhere! The same sickening substance that expunged itself from the dead mare littered the whole room. Those teams were doing their best to excoriate it in its entirety and effectively so from what she could tell. What in the Hells happened while she was in the restroom?!
"It was awful, Starlight. In Rarity's own words, it really was the worst possible thing." Twilight must have read her thoughts. "The ceremony was about to start. No one could find you. A few of us, including myself, went looking right before everything happened. I guessed the nerves had gotten to you. That you were trying to calm down a little before your speech. I was just about at the restrooms when some stallion stormed out screaming for help. He was... spewing all that stuff you see everywhere uncontrollably. A few ponies came to help him. I know this sounds horrible, Starlight, but they should have let him be. Quarantined him right then, right there. Maybe even… Oh Celestia, I never want to see anything like that again. Even telling you about it is almost too much."
"Twilight," Starlight set her sights ahead, pulling them away from the warzone that surrounded them. "I guarantee you that whatever you tell me isn't anything worse than what I've already seen. I need to know."
The mare in front of her sighed. Her trot steadied to a walk as they came up to a tent fashioned from the ballroom drapes and stage scaffolding. "I suppose you have that right. I can better explain everything once we're inside. Oh, and forgive me for not mentioning this earlier, but you're going to have to submit to an examination. After that, we can go about resolving this mess." There was profound sullenness in both her face and voice. "Ugh! I hate that I have to do this to you. I hate that this happened tonight of all nights! I hate that I'm so helpless to do anything about it! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!" She stomped her hoof with every repetition of the word "hate." Several seconds of silence passed while Starlight watched her gaze mournfully at the tent before muttering quietly, "What an absolute nightmare."
"Hey," Starlight began, playfully nudging Twilight with her shoulder. "Do you know how much you and I have been through? How many times you've saved the world? You've been up against so much always coming out on top." A chuckle escaped her lips, "Believe me, I should know. And every time you've had something in your corner guaranteeing you the win."
"Yeah?" Twilight's eyes met those of Starlight's. It was inspiring, what was in them. The same look she'd supported her own friends when things were at their worst.
"Yeah! Being the Princess of Friendship, you should know exactly what that is. This is no different. You have me. You have ever since you pulled me from the brink. You are my best friend, my sister. There will never be a day you don't have my love or my support."
Her words broke the damn behind Twilight's eyes. The same with Starlight's. They took a moment to wrap their forearms around each other, cry, then pull away for a few sniffles and to dry up the watershed.
"Ok," Twilight said. "Let's head to the front. We need to check in first." Beside the entrance stood a podium, the same from the stage, with a suited pony behind it along with a unicorn and dragon. Starlight had to appreciate the scene. With limited resources, they'd done pretty well making use of what was available. Maybe all those stiff-necked officials held the positions they did for good reason. At least a few of them, anyway.
"Your Highness!" called the stallion holding down the stand. The two made their way toward him. "So glad to see you safe and, thank the Fates, you found Ms. Glimmer. Everything turn out alright?"
"As well as it could have," replied the Princess. "I found her right before a feeler had fully burrowed into her neck."
The suited stallion flinched. The other two creatures assumed a ready stance on either side of Starlight.
"Is... is she safe to be around... unprotected?"
This miffed Twilight something fierce. Knowing full well the condition of her friend of the ward she’d cast on them both, and adding the stress she was under nearly set her off. Still, she maintained her royal composure. Her response was measured, deadly cool, "I am a Princess. A well-studied Princess. A princess who's talent is magic. Not to mention Starlight's personal friend. If anyone would know to be concerned over her state, it would be me. All three of you can see clearly that I'm wearing no protective gear, because I used my magic to cast a health ward on the both of us. If that doesn't assure you of how safe it is to be around her, I'm not sure what will."
"Aha, c-certainly," stammered the stallion with a nervous chuckle. "I'll take your word for it, Princess. Nonetheless," he cleared his throat before continuing. "We must submit Ms. Glimmer to a full medical examination." Then adding said, "With an escort, of course. Can't be too careful, you know."
"Very well," snorted Twilight.
"And Princess." He still had more to say.
"Yes?" snapped Her Royal Highness.
"Having been in direct contact with a potential infected-"
"Go on."
"We, uh, must as well submit you to another full examination. Can't be too careful, you know."
So nice you had to say it twice, mulled Starlight.
Had she glared at him any longer, Starlight swore Twilight would have burned two holes straight through his eye sockets. The fellow looked like he was shaking.
"Very well. On one condition."
"Y-yes, Princess."
"I will be Starlight's escort."
"B-but, Your Highness!"
"That's final."
"But policy! Regulation! In times of crisis we can't just-"
"I said," Her Highness was face-to-face with him, ensuring he missed none of her words. "That's. Final."
There was still protest in his eyes, desperate to give her orders answer, but he was not an immovable object against this purple unstoppable force.
"As you wish, your highness," he relented. "The nurses are just inside. They'll direct you where to go."
"Thank you. Have you got our names marked in the log?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Very good. Carry on."
Watching Twilight act out the "princess" side of being the Princess of Friendship made Starlight wonder if she had it in her to exert such authority. True, she'd done so back in that town. The difference was her authority spawned from malevolence. Twilight's was from duty. No better time to learn than in a time of crisis, she thought. No better pony to learn from than Twilight. Silver linings were found in any situation. Catching the trim of the tent flap in her magic, Twilight held it open so they could enter. Inside two nurses met them, exchanged brief introductions and led them through the tent to where a doctor would see to them. Eerie the atmosphere, solemn the ponies that waded in it. Several spots were cordoned off by magic barriers. Some empty, most containing ponies with frightened, uneasy looks. None there had a glimmer of hope written somewhere in their destitute faces. That same question rattled all about her skull, growing ever noisier, ever demanding. Their march eventually halted at one of the reserved sections, where one of the nurses gestured toward Starlight. A cell meant for her with no other soul to share it with. How lovely.
A nurse treated and dressed her wound. Before lighting her horn, she was interrupted by Twilight. "Thank you, but I'd rather be the one to do it. Should she somehow... lose herself, I need to ensure she can't escape."
Thanks, Twilight. She couldn't help the sarcasm in her thoughts. There was nothing she wanted to say, regardless. Nor could she help the apprehension affecting her steps. There was the sound of horn ignition, the buzzing of the forming box accompanied by a low magical warble. She turned to look at Twilight, unable to hide the worried questions that flicked about behind her eyes. Twilight gave what encouragement she could:
"It'll be alright. I'll see you soon. Then I'll tell you everything."
"The doctor should be by in less than an hour," the nurse informed her.
"Thank you. See you soon, Twilight," Starlight replied. Twilight smiled, leaving with a small wave. Starlight's gaze followed the detail as it marched away, remaining a while after they'd disappeared. Solitude was nice when one created it for themselves. Having it forced on you was another matter. Though a patient, she felt a prisoner. In some ways, she was. Not just physically, either. Nothing to be done for it, she thought. With little to do save be alone with her thoughts, Starlight resigned herself to take the time to rest. Her eyes shut without protest. Her mind quietly drifted away. Sleep found her, gave her up to a sea of dreams. There, the ocean carefully cradled her tired conscience. It sang her lilting lullabies from rolling waves. Dirges of gentle currents. She breathed deep, forgetting all which troubled her. Somewhere in the waters, an unknown warden watched silently over the mare, ensuring nothing disturbed her slumber.
Chapter 2 - "The Stuff of Nightmares"
She couldn’t remember when she first fell in love with the sea. It was more a feeling that she’d always loved it. That there wasn’t a time where that salty flowing expanse didn’t wholly capture her heart. Maybe it’d be easier to say why she loved the sea. From towering tsunamic giants to the peaceful lapping at the shore, the contrast of powerful majesty and enchanting calm stirred the emotion within her. The sea was everything. The entire compendium of the lived experience in a single vast body. And in life, nothing was guaranteed. Even this very moment was subject to radical, inexplicable change. A heart attack was ever only one less apple away. A torrential gale only one foul wind between easy sailing and a fight for your life. Or a secret fishing spot that was suddenly not so secret anymore. The sea was a force, a mistress of opportunity and chaos. There is no appeasing her, only preparing for her. Even then, she will take all that you readied for yourself as hers with no warning, no remorse. None can withstand the sea. All are made equal before her who seek to challenge her waves.
And so, it was to the sea she went when in greatest desperation, hoping beyond hope for a favor from an old friend. Nothing else could mend this vicious heartache, this deplorable soreness of soul. Maybe she could find the right tide to wash it away. On a night much like the one when she first saw the ocean as a filly, she tread again the sandy shore where her life’s course was forever altered. The stars twinkled gaily at her arrival. A cool breeze drifted in from the deep ocean, tousling her mane. She filled her lungs with that air, relishing it, letting it pass slowly, the saltiness of it dancing on her tongue. There were few other places of which she knew where nature dressed her fine world with such excellent calm, such marvelous beauty. Best of all, none else knew of its existence. A prime little paradise settled beyond the woods in a secluded corner of the vast shore encircled by towering pines. Where her heart longed to remain, but would never tarry for fear of spoiling it. During winters, it was unmatched: Soft snow drifts buried the shore from the trees to the waterline and no sound was heard save for the tide and winds. In summers, it teemed with quaint creatures, children of land and sea alike. Charmingly colored avians who sang sweetly, small scuttling crabs, bright floating butterflies, a fox here, an otter there, and rarely anything else larger or louder. There was a time when the dreadful squaws of a seagull had once threatened the shore’s tranquility. Since then, none had dared try. It was his promise that ensured that. It made her shudder, what happened, but no lingering sickness of regret plagued her.
It was toward the end of summer she’d come, the leaves touched with their first gradients, the air dipping into the beginning tinges of cold. Festival preparations would be in full swing all across Equestria. Everyone would be celebrating Princess Luna assuming the Winter crown at the arrival of the equinox. She imagined it, all the excitement, the inexhaustible joy rivalling Hearth’s Warming, and burned with irascible jealousy that she could not be at even the smallest one. But soon she would have all she needed. These awful emotions would not harass her poor heart for much longer. It took only a moment to find the old log which had always marked her favorite spot. Sun-bleached by years unshielded from the sun, its whitened bark reflected the moonlight brilliantly, calling her to lay her burdens in the sand among its few branches. She scanned the area as she walked toward it, looking for someone or something that may have been bold enough to ruin the sanctity of her haven. There were no intruders, as every time before, but still she felt compelled to check. With an ignition of her horn, she levitated her saddlebags off her back onto the beach. Then laying herself among the branches, she removed a strange treasure from one of her bags: a copper compass in which bobbed slightly a malachite needle. Its points were marked in strange runes instead of the typical cardinal directions. Held in her magic, she examined it closely, turning the trinket in all manner of ways until she had satisfied herself the needle refused to alter its heading. She took hold of some stray driftwood, drawing a scaled-up likeness of the compass – this one’s points ending in a different set of runes - in the sand before setting down the true one in the middle of it. Her work was meticulous, a practiced action born of years of study and experience that, had some knowledgeable pony been there to appraise it, would have marked her worthy of an Archmagus.
It was time to see him again. A moment she took to meditate, steadying her breaths, weaving a concentrated peace over her mind. Then, her lips parted and she sang in melancholy tune the familiar incantation,
“Cor meum ab Cupidine confoditur.
Aurum micantem dedignor omne.
Nihil me consolari potest,
nisi iocosa nauta audax.”
Her eyes remained closed, allowing no distractions while the magic stirred within her, focused through her horn and into the compass, which glowed brightly in response. Starlight opened her eyes and standing watched as the treasure crackled with magical energy. Here comes my favorite part, she thought excitedly. The crackling steadied into a musical hum, then slowly crescendoed as the magic poured from the compass into the sand-drawing. The hum grew into a harmonious chorus of deep resonance and with each new note struck, the malachite needle ticked to a compass point, shooting a beam between compass and sand rune. The beams cast themselves beyond the borders of Starlight’s drawing, travelling far out of view with each illuminated set. Tick after tick, the needle tread the steps of its magical world, until finally it’s revolution was complete. The compass rose, beset with rhythmic vibrations. The needle snapped free, pointing rigidly to the sky. Both compass and needle spun. Lightning bolts arced all around the copper way-finder, increasing in number, striking out at each point, then all coalesced their charge into a chosen beam, igniting it in an exquisite blue fire far across the sea to the distant horizon. And then, where Starlight could see farthest, the flame exploded into a pillar high into the sky, then another pillar, and another all the way down the line in blazing succession until it consumed the malachite needle and copper compass, but she did not fear the fire. She only felt its warmth, pleasant and comforting.
Towering above her, the pillars descended, story by story down to the water. Each collapsed on itself into nothing, save for the one on the compass. A soft, shapeless glow took its place, and Starlight felt such longing in her heart as she hadn’t in some time. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she lunged to embrace the light just as it took form. A foreleg birthed from the light wrapped around her neck and a gilded chuckle graced her ears.
“I’ve missed you too, Starlight.”
Light, cold and low met her eyes. Some of the rays refracted through the barrier in strangely hued rainbows. For a moment, her world was a blurry painting of various pinks and a piercing fluorescent. She blinked the sleep away and all was normal once again. As normal it could be, she thought. There was no one here save herself since Twilight left with the nurse. What kept her company now was that unpleasant hospital silence and apparently a newly admitted patient right across from her who remained sleeping. It wasn’t someone she recognized. Their cutiemark was hidden by their dinner suit, but the broad shoulders and bulky haunches indicative of a working stallion were not so. They could be a retired soldier. The scar that cut his nostril suggested it. Highly decorated and here as a guest of someone else. Or they made their way into politics after an illustrious career. Maybe he was one of the labor guild heads. The physique would match: blacksmith, farmer, woodspony, or what-have-you. Something else about him though drew her scrutinizing eye: a bandage. Around his neck. Blood seeping through. Now soaking the bandage entirely.
“Oh no…” she said aloud, then cried, “Help! Someone! Nurse! NURSE! DOCTOR! HELP, PLEASE! AAH, TWILIGHT! HEEEELP!” No one came. Starlight watched horrified when the stallion started twitching. Then grunting, struggling to stand. Then retching as his back arched in response to a violently contracting diaphragm. Everything came forcefully tumbling out. It was the same nightmare in the restroom all over again. This time the Fates would grant her the privilege of seeing it all in full view, from the first gruesome moment to the last. “Hells, Starlight you idiot. You can do something too,” she said to herself. But instead of the usual tingle of magic, a raging headache split her skull. She let out an agonized cry as blurry visions of those jade lights flashed before her eyes, stirring her stomach, weaking her legs. Between the pain and sickness she watched and listened to the stallion aggressively expunging everything, just like that poor mare. It all brought her to her knees, her diaphragm echoing the same actions of her hospital mate. “Oh Celestia, not again. Please…” Twilight’s face took its place amongst the screaming images.
There was nothing critical in it this time. Only a warm, loving smile. So strangely motherly, similar in how she looked at Spike. That look spurred in her a newfound will, and with it she resisted the urge to give up her ghost. None of these terrible ailments would cripple her. She knew there was far too much to fight for. Something far more worthy than the negative emotional feedback loop that so desperately struggled to drag her into Tartarus. “No… more. I- I’m done… failing.” Swallowing back her pain, she won against the gravity of her own guilt and rose to face the demon before her. Even though the headache lingered, the visions now vanished. And so did the dying stallion.
“Starlight!”
Her ears perked up at the sound of her name. The hospital was the same as it was before, nobody else across from her, except for the nurse and Twilight who’d finally returned. It was the alicorn’s voice that she’d heard.
“Twilight,” her own voice came shakily, yet clear, “Was I…?”
Concern deeply creasing her face, Twilight affirmed her fears, “I’m not sure, but I think so. It was so strange. When I found you doing that earlier, you were sitting on your haunches looking straight ahead, mouth wide open and pupils extremely dilated. Like an overdose without the lethal symptoms. This time, we found you standing rigid. Stiff as a statue, and you were mouthing something. It was nearly inaudible, but Nurse Genesi and I agree it was something like ‘No more’ and ‘I’m done.’ But that wasn’t the weirdest part.
Oh no, worried Starlight.
“Your sclera…”
Starlight groaned inwardly. She’d read enough horror novels where authors used the whites of someone’s eyes turning color as a story hook. It was almost comedic how it was now a reality for her.
“…was like a moonless night. And your eyes…”
Two tropes with one stone, but it wasn’t funny anymore.
“…were glowing. Very green. Very bright. Neither of us could look in them for long without a trance-like wooziness coming over us.”
Always some new horror, Starlight thought. “How long were you trying to snap me out of it?”
“Not too long after we came back,” responded Nurse Genesi. “Like Princess Twilight said, we lost ourselves for a moment when we saw your eyes, but she quickly got a hold of herself and started banging on the barrier and calling out to you.”
“It was about the fifth or sixth time I shouted that you came too.” She paused, looking down, seemingly dumbfounded. Rarely did she ever deal with a problem so incomprehensible. Her eyes rose to find Starlight staring unblinkingly at the unoccupied space across from her. “What is it?” she asked, a fearful curiosity painting her tone.
“Twilight…,” she searched for a way to begin, “I saw a stallion there. He looked like one of the party guests. He vanished when the hallucination stopped.”
Twilights pupils flared, gaze fixing on that empty spot on the floor. “Describe him!” Her words were flooded with urgency.
“Uh, earth pony. Strong build. Soldier or laborer. Possibly one of the guild heads. I couldn’t see his cutie mark, but he did have a scar through his left nostr – AUGH!” The headache returned with fury, her mind rejecting the memory like some foreign pathogen.
“Starlight!” But her friend would have to wait a moment more for aid, so she begged her, “Starlight, what else did you see. You need to tell me.”
“Uhhnn, Twilight, I’m trying. Please, this is really killing me!”
“Just a little more info, Starlight. Just a little.”
She could manage that. “He – oh, sweet Celestia – he was infected. Ugh, he was turning.”
That was all she could do. It was all Twilight needed. “Nurse, when does Doctor Orion get here?”
Starlight suddenly recovered. “Orion? You said Orion, right?”
“Ah, no.” Nurse Genesi replied confusedly, “she said Doctor Aran. He’ll be here shortly, Princess.”
“Oh,” and Starlight failed to keep her disappointment from dripping into her sigh.
Twilight wondered what she could mean. Starlight hadn’t been too open about her past save for a few times. It was probably best not to pry. Maybe some reassurance would do her good. “Starlight-” she began, but something interrupted her. “-your neck!”
Terror gripped the poor unicorn. “What! What is it?!”
With impeccable timing, Doctor Aran appeared, fully haz-suited and immediately spotting what shook Twilight. "Oh no. Princess Twilight, if you please, I need to get in there now.”
“Of course,” Twilight replied softly, a faint crack in her voice. Opening the barrier enough for him to enter, she turned back toward the empty spot, unable to meet Starlight’s eyes.
“Miss Glimmer, if you would turn your head away for a moment. I need to remove your bandage,” came the monotone voice of the doctor.
She did as asked without word, too scared to speak.
“This may sting.” And sting it did, a dozen mad wasps attacking her wound. The big girl in her took the reigns and rode the pain with grunts here and there while the doctor worked as quickly as he could. He muttered when finished, “There’s already scarring… mostly healed. No puss. No blood.” Then to where all could hear, “Miss Glimmer, the news I have isn’t good. But…”
“Yes?” came the simultaneous reply from Starlight, Twilight and the nurse.
“But,” Doctor Aran continued, “…it won’t make sense unless you allow to me explain properly.” He was met with three-voiced groan. “Hmph. This infection is unusual. Unnatural. Wrong, if you will. In the past four hours, I’ve seen ponies keel over, freeze stiff, essentially melt apart, and explode before my eyes. Devasting. The stuff of nightmares.”
“Doctor,” came Nurse Genisi.
“Yes, I’m getting there. Anywho, it is a horrifying senseless thing in comparison to all other known diseases. We know the results of infection, we know you don’t want it touching you, but what happens in the beginning, what terminates a pony in the end, what sends them into a frenzy… and now this! A new symptom entirely. Nurse Genesi, would you cast a mirror for me?”
“Yes, Doctor.” Her horn ignited. Twin sparkling mirrors in green aura manifested, positioned to reflect Starlight’s neck back to her. Starlight stood silent. Mouth shut tightly. Wide-eyed. Doctor Aran resumed his explanation,
“These spinal veins,” he pointed with his hoof, tracing their path from the infection point, “appear to be engorged with a fluid similar to what has erupted from other infected individuals. This, however, is different. More vibrant. Pulsing with life. Not dead, if you will. If we follow this one up the back of your skull,” he gently pulled her mane out of the way, “this vein connects to the base of your horn. Have you tried to use any magic since you came into contact with a feeler?”
All she could give was a feeble “yes.”
“Hmmm….” He let go of her mane. “Well, Miss Glimmer, I must inform you that you must not use any more magic. Indefintely.”
“Why?!” sounded a three-fold shock.
“Because, if I were to guess correctly, your magic acts a catalyst for the infection. Every time you try to use it, it feeds off your cardiac leylines.”
“Doc… I only tried once.”
“And that was more than enough, I’m afraid.” A man of detached professionalism.
I guess he can’t help it, thought Starlight. There was only one question to ask now. The doctor intuited well enough what everyone hoped wasn’t true.
“Miss Glimmer…” he took an excruciating moment to gather his thoughts. “Your infection has indeed progressed, but in a way not yet seen. Nor has it done to you what it has to the others. Hmmm…” He put a hoof to his chin, mumbling pensively. “I can’t clear you. It’s far too risky and the variables too unknown. But I think that as long as you refrain from using magic and we watch you 24/7, there is a chance that whatever is happening to you may help us find a cure.”
That was his final word. He looked fairly pleased with his diagnosis. Hopeful, even. Dismay crept across the faces of the two friends. Indefinite prison for one, indefinite loss for another. Nurse Genesi only nodded in agreement. She could see the sense in Doctor Aran’s words. It was the best lead they had since all hell broke loose. To lose that would be potentially devastating. Few risks could be taken when they still knew so little.
“Doctor Aran,” Twilight spoke through a simmering anger. “Is there a possibility she could be released at all? Say under the care of a trusted party?”
“I presume you mean yourself, Princess. I’m afraid not. Not at this time, at least. We can’t lose the first real lead we have. We must attack this before it gets any worse.”
A scream came from somewhere else in the tent, followed by more and someone shouting, “DOCTOR ARAN! WHERE’S DOCTOR ARAN?!”
The stuff of nightmares. Endless nightmares.
“Hells! Princess, would you mind letting me out? Thank you. Damn it, where is that pony. I’m over here! OVER HERE!”
One of the guardsponies came charging in, jittery, frightened out of his wits. “Doctor Aran! We’ve had a breach. I don’t know how, but a patient got out as soon as they started turning. The staff and other guards are doing what they can, but it’s not working. We have three casualties already. We need the fla-“ His tongue caught mid-sentence as his eyes grew wide.
“What, sir!? What in Celestia’s name do we-… Oh, Hells.” It was too late. Doctor Aran hadn’t noticed the tear in the guardspony’s haz-suit, where an uninvited hitchhiker had been busily digging into his flesh. “30 seconds. Princess, take Starlight and Genesi. Find the source of the infection. Save us all.” Those were the last words of Doctor Aran Isles as he reared round to buck the doomed stallion. It would be of little use. Twilight dropped the barrier and the three mares went racing toward the exit, spreading word of the breach as they went. They could only hope the staff would react quickly. Behind them came a haunted chorus of gurgling roars growing steadily louder. The way out came into view. Twilight called ahead to the guards:
“We’re evacuating! Don’t quarantine this tent until everyone’s out!” The mares jumped through in succession. Twilight about-faced to look for other evacuees, but to her horror she watched as the guard unicorn sealed the entrance shut.
“NO! STOP!” She lit her horn in a fearful fire, hoping to break the seal herself.
“Hold on there, Princess,” came the voice of the podium stallion. “That’s, uh, that’s a cardian lock. I wouldn’t go breaking it if I, uh, were you.”
Twilight was stunned. Such serious measures taken at the peril of everyone inside and the unicorn who’d trapped them in there.
“Why?!” she interrogated the stallion, her horn still burning fiercely.
“Aha, well, orders are, uh, orders. And you, uh, you can’t be too careful, you know.” He replied cowering slightly behind his beloved perch. The Princess debated within herself: Should she risk murder or a mass breach? She didn’t know. And for all the magic within her, she felt utterly powerless. Stricken with indecision, she sat square on her haunches and wept, watching through the opaque golden seal ponies who for a moment had hope now being hopelessly massacred. Starlight sat beside her, as unable as she, helpless to keep death unfolding in true brutality. Nurse Genesi had no stomach for it having wandered off to fetch a few of the fire teams. She understood what that guardspony had tried to say perfectly. The operation must change. There was only one cure for this now. The pair of friends sat for some time, silently wondering how things could have gone so terribly wrong.
“Twilight.”
“Yes?”
“What are we going to do?”
She had been working through the answer to that question since this started. “I… Hells, Starlight, I don’t know. AUGH, I DON’T KNOW!” In her frustration, she let loose a bolt straight into the ceiling, blasting the crystal clear away, letting the winter cold slip into the hall.
All looked up at the new skylight, but the haz-suited creatures soon returned their eyes to their watch. Starlight’s glimmered in the twinkling of the stars in the exposed night sky. “It’d be a beautiful night if it weren’t for everything else.”
“Yes… it would be.” Snowflakes crept slowly down toward them until one rested on the nose of the unicorn.
A feeling came over her, irrationally hopeful, but she clung to the newborn feeling like a foal all her own. “Twilight, we can fix this. Find a cure. And nights like these will be beautiful again.”
Twilight, sniffling, said, “You think so?”
“I do. Come on, we need to grab Genesi.”
The princess let her friend lead her away from the tent. Neither could stand to be around it any longer. They ran into the nurse not long after at the head of many suited creatures.
“Nurse Genesi!” called Starlight. “Twilight and I were about to-,” but the nurse held up a hoof to interrupt her. “Princess, Miss Glimmer. I regret to say that neither of you will be doing anything until I say so. Fire teams, you have your orders,” and she waved them on. About six squads of creatures marched toward the tent. One squad lead passed words with the podium stallion, who nodded to the guard dragon, while the guard unicorn started screaming obscenities, clearly distressed. They did catch one thing from him when he tried calming the unicorn down, “I’m sorry, Mr. Latchkey. Can’t be too careful, you know?” The unicorn lunged at the podium stallion, but before he could do anything, someone shouted “FIRE” and a blaze of extraordinary magnitude consumed the medical tent in seconds. The wails of the roasting unicorn were drowned out in the ensuing roar. Starlight swore in midst of it all, she heard hundreds of voices, crying out in agony, but one by one they trailed off, consumed by the raging flames.
“Starlight…”
“Hmm?”
“You’re crying…”
“Huh?” She hadn’t noticed the salty drops trailing down her face. “Oh, I suppose I am.” She wiped them away with her hoof.
“We’re not going to have anyone left to save by the end of this,” Twilight lamented.
Starlight ruminated on her words, and prayed they weren’t true. Then, addressing the medical mare said, “Nurse Genesi, what in the Hells are you doing?”
The nurse had been observing the flames with cold stoicism, no emotions molding a mite of her visage. She saw no need to answer immediately. It would change nothing. Before Starlight could interrogate her further, she answered with a question, “Do you know what a backfire is, Miss Glimmer?”
Silence was her answer. “Then I assume you understand.”
Starlight was unsure of what to say, but knew above all else it was time for them to go. “Twilight and I are leaving,” she spat through gritted teeth.
With an eerie evenness, she replied, “No, you are not. Guards!” A pair of crystal ponies, a pegasus and unicorn in dark jumpsuits materialized from thin air, each with thaumic repression cuffs.
“Twilight!”
“On it!” A pink flash briefly blinded guards and nurse alike, leaving a sizzling spot on the floor, but nothing else. Genesi regarded it with an icy stare, and nothing else. “Gather the rest of your team. Capture the Princess and Miss Glimmer. Bring them to the palace when you do. Dismissed.” Orders received, they gave an “aye” and left the same way they appeared. Now alone, she returned her eyes to the inferno. Muttering to herself, saying, “There is no end to these nightmares. Not for me.”
*POOF* “Haha! Finally, I did it! I teleported myself a whole ten paces! Isn’t that just grand, Opal?”
Surely, there was excitement somewhere in the middle of all that feline apathy. “Oh, Opal darling, can’t you be excited for Mommy just a little? I’ve been working so hard on this spell. It hasn’t been easy while simultaneously making all those gowns for the Commemoration Ball. Goodness gracious, can you imagine the stress I’ve been under to design an appropriate dress for not one but four princesses and their attachés? It’s been absolutely exhausting.” She gave a dramatic flourish of her hoof before bringing it to rest on her forehead. “I just can’t believe I didn’t even have time to attend it. Part of me wishes I hadn’t promised Sweetie Belle I’d take her to the Crusader’s annual meeting in Manehattan.” A sudden wind struck her from the side. Wrapping her coat tighter, she exclaimed, shivering, “Brrrrrr! It certainly is rather chilly up on this platform. Would it have killed them to install a windbreaker or two?” There were none to hear her gripe. She was a lone pony out here, save for the station manager holed up in his office. Peering down the line, she tried in vain to catch sight of the train. “Goodness, it’s far too dark to see anything out there. The papers did say a storm would be blowing in tonight. Fates willing, the train will arrive soon. It’s nearly fifteen minutes late!” Down by her hooves came a “mrow” from her beloved cat, now huddling close to keep warm. “Opal, you must be freezing! Come here.” She caught the shaking thing in her magic and stuffed her gently into her hood. “There, get all snuggly wuggly, baby Opal. Mommy’ll keep you warm.”
It dawned on her that her doting might have seemed rather silly to another pony, but then again there were none here to hear, save for the station manager… holed up in his office. A true gentlestallion would have invited me inside instead of leaving me to freeze to death with my cat out here, she complained silently. “Argh, how much longer is this train going to take!” she growled. The platform clock ticked on, reading 1817, undisturbed by her winging. “Blast it, I’m going to figure what’s going on.” Baggage in tow, she made for the office door. With a less than courteous knock, she cried “Excuse me! Mister Station Manager? The train is quite late and I’ve been out here for much longer than a lady would like to be. Would you mind letting me in so you’re not responsible for two innocent creatures dying of exposure?” A moment passed with no response. “Ignore me, will you?! I think not!” She fervently whacked the door with her hoof, hoping to waken or annoy the stallion until he relented. Still, after much banging, there was no answer. Now Rarity was somewhat unsure of how to proceed. Surely, he must be in there. Was he that sound of a sleeper? At this point, it didn’t matter. The train hadn’t yet come, it was dark out and a storm was coming. Any carriages that could have taken her back to the city had already gone and all other shelters she might make use of were filthy, abandoned residences. Desperate as she was, she wasn’t that desperate. That settled it.
She spun the door handle, which gave with a click. Strange, other stations leave the door locked, she thought. No one to refuse her, she hauled herself, her bags, and her cat into the station, shutting the cold out behind her. “Thank goodness, it’s so much warmer in here. My, isn’t that better, Opal?” Her feline friend gracefully bounded out of her hood and onto a chair by the fireplace where she curled up to sleep. Rarity smiled. “Hmm, sometimes you’re just so adorable.” It really was quite strange how no one was in here. No one in the ticket booth, no one at the table, no one by the storage shelves. Maybe he’s in his bunk room. But, when she opened the door, she found no one in there either. She made to close it when a dripping noise she hadn’t heard before reached her ears, now twitching to find the source. The bathroom! Of course. Poor fellow may have been caught up in some bad bodily business. How rude of her to intrude. She’d wait for him until he was done, but she didn’t have to wait long. The bathroom door creaked open, releasing a noxious fume that nearly made her retch. “Oh,” she said when the door had swung wide. “There you are.”
