Chapter 1: Coventry

Chapter 1: Coventry

For two hundred years after the banishment of Nightmare Moon, the now-lone Princess of Equestria grieved. While the Sun and Moon rose and set as was normal, Princess Celestia all but withdrew from all but the most essential tasks of ruling Her kingdom, leaving it mostly in the hooves of the nobility and assorted Court officials. But once Her two centuries of grief passed, the Princess once again took up the reins of ruling, and things began.... changing. The Noble Parliament had passed and revoked very few laws in those two hundred years, as anything greatly progressive was seen as a threat to their own incomes and profits, while anything too overreaching or ambitious was harshly vetoed by the grieving Princess. Upon Her re-taking up the mantle of leadership, however, changes rippled through Equestrian society like waves on the ocean's surface. This was to be Equestria's First Renaissance, and although many great and awe-inspiring events took place, we are going to focus on just one – the Royal Equestrian Witchery Injunction Act of 217 A.B.

This over-blanketing decree lumped a great many practices together, labeling them as “dark magicks.” Some of those, it must be said, were rightfully described as such; Necromancy, Blood Magic, Voudon, Sacrificial Magic, Pact Sorcery, Occultism, and Nithing just to name a few. However, ignorance and superstition were far more powerful, as well as far more wide-spread in those days, and so a lot of other practices also got lumped in with such abominations. Hedgemagery, Totem Magic, Elementalism, Ero-tantric Magic,and even Silvapotio; that is to say, the brewing of magical potions using plants, juices, herbs, and often generous amounts of moonshine. While this act sent the full might of the Royal Equestrian Sunfiyre Paladins against truly depraved forces, such as the infamous Dunwich Deeps Cult, it also caused the a great many goodhearted ponies to be persecuted - wisemares, hoofwives, hedge-wizards, moon-dancers, and even spellsingers were often arrested and harshly punished for their so-called “dark corruptions.” This, in turn led to an wide-spread, if unofficial, exodus of many such practitioners as previously-respected and revered mystics fled from central Equestria. Some settled in unclaimed wildernesses as hermits, others fled the continent entirely to find lives in other countries. And some..... well, some came here.

The town was originally settled in 221 A.B. by a clan of Chloromancers, potion-brewers, and charm-weavers fleeing persecution from the newly-settled outpost village that would eventually become Vanhoover. Led by the gentle, healing hoof of the wisemare Candle Light, she and her clan established a settlement in this valley on the border of the Undiscovered West, far from the roads and cities of the time – in fact, the first road connecting us to the rest of Equestria wasn't even built until 372 A.B., during the town's brief Saronite Rush – by which time the Witchery Act had been repealed and replaced with a few more-enlightened legal acts.

~Professor Parchment Reclaimer's opening lecture on The History of Witchery, Miss Kaleidoscope Tonic's University, 1004 A.B.

It was annoyingly quiet out here. The idea of it buzzed in the unicorn mare's head as she plodded along the packed dirt road. Certainly, there were bird calls, the rustling of small animals in the bushes, the buzz of insect wings. The soft whisper of a breeze and the susurrant sighs of the leaves moving in it. But it all seemed.... muted? Certainly less lively than the mare would have expected from the healthy forestland south of the Smokey Mountains. The soft squeaking of the wooden cart she hauled behind her felt more dynamic than the prosaic timberlands bordering the road she walked.

She sighed to herself and shook her head. Maybe it was just her mood that soured her to the surroundings. Somepone happier to be here might be able to notice little details she missed, might be able to hear and see more with an outlook uncluttered by the swirling depression and despair that clung to the lone traveler like an unseen miasma.

“It just wasn't fair,” she groused to herself. “When Keen Edge got HIS mark, everyone loved him for it. Civil Speech got an internship at City Hall less than a week after getting HER mark. Even Head Stone, gloomy stallion that he is, got a certain amount of reserved respect for following his mark as a groundskeeper for the Fillydelphia Municipal Memorial Cemetery. So why ME?”

The indigo mare shook her head, trying to dispel her spiraling thoughts while shaking her black, red-streaked mane out of her eyes. She knew from bitter experience that allowing THAT train of thought would get her nowhere but to the bottom of the green glass jug packed away in the cart she pulled. And where would that get her? Passed out on the side of the road, probably in a puddle of her own vomit. Again.

A petulant whine escaped her as she plodded westward, the road sloping up gently now. The incline was by no means harsh, but at this point every tiny hardship felt like a red-hot needle driven into her chest. It was uncomfortably warm for the season. Her harness chafed at the back of her neck. The cart's left rear wheel squeaked annoyingly. The breeze tickled at her ears, making them twitch sporadically, but never blew hard enough to cool her down. And now her legs were growing sore and tired from pulling a cart loaded with her few meager possessions up the gentle incline.

“Why me?” She brooded again, her expression darkening as she stubbornly kept making her way uphill. “Keen Edge went overboard in his guard training and very nearly AMPUTATED another cadet's foreleg, and all was forgiven. 'Training accident' everypony said. But me? Oh, no, all it took was reverse-engineering ONE little potion from the legends of Hydia, Dyre, and Grackle for them all to turn their backs on me. It wasn't even a big thing! The Fillydelphia Thaumaturgic Response Team dispelled the Infectious Creeping Darkness before it spread further than the campus labs, for Celestia's sake! Nopone was even permanently hurt.”

That... had really stung, honestly. Keen Edge had scarred a fellow cadet for life, and nopony batted an eye. Her little miscalculation in recreating the Creeping Darkness hadn't harmed anyone, and even those who had been caught in the incident were - with time, therapy, some help from Princess Luna, and some risperidone and lithium - recovering from the nightmares. But who got shunned? Not the axe-swinging Earth Pony colt with the disarming grin and the bulging muscles, that was for sure.

The mare growled to herself as she shook her head once again, as though pestered by a persistent fly. Leaving Fillydelphia had been for the best, all things considered. Who needed a town where so-called friends ghosted her and her family had turned her away in shame? Where nopone would hire her, even for waitressing or menial labor? Where the Town Guard were always loitering conspicuously in the background, keeping an eye on her? To Tartarus with all them! Six months of struggling alone after being expelled from La Sadle University had been enough to force her hoof. The day she had packed her few belonging into a cart and purchased a ticket west at the train station had been bittersweet; letting go of her life and her hometown hurt deeply, but it was also freeing, somehow, watching the station platform and the one lone loitering City Guardpony recede into the distance.

Not that Canterlot had been much better, she glumly pondered. Nor Appleloosa, or Los Pegasus. While certainly not as bad as her hometown had been, news and rumors had managed to precede her; twin social manacles that barred her from any but the most demeaning and obsequious of jobs to keep her fed and sheltered. None lasted long, and within months of arriving in a new town, she'd find herself back on the train, cart loaded and ticket in hoof for somewhere else; anywhere she might have heard was friendly or accepting of new ponies.

It had been in Tall Tale, working as a waitress in a slum dive bar, that she had first heard of the place. In between running hard ciders and cheap rum, dodging surly drunks and hoofsy barflies, she had overheard a group of down-on-their-luck migrant worker types griping amongst themselves.

“Ain't nothing out here, either.” A burly brown earth pony stallion had been complaining. “Jus' a bunch of rich plotholes an' cafes caterin' to 'em.” She remembered setting out a round of hard ciders for a nearby group as one of the stallion's companions, a magenta pegasus mare, had nodded sourly.

“Yea,” she had agreed, grimacing. “Toldja we shoulda just followed the tracks through Whitetail. My cousin White Lightning is always saying that there's work 'round the Gateway-” Her words were suddenly cut off by a hoof slamming down on the tabletop.

“I ain't goin' nowhere near that place,” the red stallion had snarled. “I heard it ain't even in Equestria proper. Jus' a dumpin' ground fer freaks an' weirdos that ain't bad enough fer the Princesses ta banish. You wanna go work for cultists an' dark magic addicts an' griffon-fuckers, you go right on, but you ain't draggin' the resta us with ya!”

She hadn't heard anything more after that – the place had gotten too busy and far too rowdy for any more casual eavesdropping. But something about what she HAD heard niggled and cavorted in her brain, long after she had collected her meager tips and pay for the night. What was this Gateway? Somewhere west of the Whitetail? She had never heard of any towns out that way.

Research at the local library hadn't helped, nor did any of her co-workers or boss have any ideas. She had been about to dismiss the whole thing when the bar's rum deliverypony had motioned her aside one early afternoon. Seems she had overheard her asking, and had a lead for her.

“It's not actually in Equestria.” The swarthy blue earth pony mare had confirmed, her neutral urban accent tinted by a faint country twang. “I've run a few barrels out there, myself. It's called “The Gateway To The Undiscovered West” by them adventuring types, but the town itself has another name. Can't remember it off the top of my head, but it's..... well, it's not a bad place, per se. But it's plenty odd. Can be a bit scary, too, but as long as you don't cause no ruckus and listen to the locals, you'll be fine.” The mare stopped, then fixed the unicorn with a steely expression. “But if you do head out that way, for the love of the Sun, do not ignore the locals, no matter how hard it sounds like they're trying to pull your leg. They may be weird, but they're good folk. Just do as they do, and ask questions later - you'll do better'n most of them explorers and adventurers that pass through the place.”

That had been a few months ago, now. A few inquiries had confirmed the rum runner's words – there WAS something out there, past the Whitetail Woods. A settlement that bordered the Undiscovered West, just outside the borders of Equestria, home of strange ponies and stranger schools. A city-state that casually neighbored the kingdom, but interacted with it but little – the only road in or out of town was a packed dirt road, leading west from a nearly-abandoned station platform in the Whitetail forest. A place only spoken about in whispers, rumors, and urban legends. And, she reasoned, if news coming out of the place was so scarce, was it not reasonable to assume that the same might apply for news going in? Might she actually have a chance to outrun her reputation and the social stigma? Her path had been clear to her then – it was time to save up what she could for another train ticket. One more trip. Hopefully, it would be the last she'd need.

With these thought roiling and churning in her head, the unicorn finally crested the hill. The sudden vista unfolding below her derailed her thoughts like a hydra sleeping on a train track. Ahead of and below her, the road turned steeply downward, leading into a forested valley. Nestled in the center of the valley, a shockingly huge town – really, a small city – clustered around the river running through the heart of the valley. Innumerable farms made up the outskirts, with urban stretches of quaint and colorful homes clearly defining the residential districts. The “downtown” area was clearly visible from her vantage point, with markets, businesses, stores and warehouses grouped around a sprawling university campus. That was what had sealed her decision to seek the place out; the fabled school of Miss Kaleidoscope Tonic, shaded from the setting sun by the mountains of the Undiscovered West, where she hoped her research into legends and lore could be tolerated, maybe even supported. For a moment, just one, she even dared to dream she might one day teach there, a respected professor...

Looking down on the valley town, for the first time in several months, Teratoid Codex – just Tera to her friends - smiled as her brilliant emerald eyes found the sign on the side of the road. Carved from a gigantic slab of wood three times her height, it was obviously old and bit weathered, but the varnished wood was obviously meticulously well-cared for. The likeness of a lit candle in an old-fashioned candleholder was carved into the top of the sign, and below the symbol, read these words;

Welcome to Candle Light's Coven
For the unique, the unwanted, the misunderstood;
welcome home, dear wanderer.

Author's Note

A walk through the woods, how........ exciting.

Be patient, dear reader, this is just the beginning.

Literally.