Dr Whooves MONSTER

Chapter 3

That would be the last I saw of Stygian, or so I thought. A few weeks went by, and Star Swirl kept me so busy that I got nothing but a passing glance whenever I came into the church. For now, my job was examining the root cause and hopefully curing my patient’s illness.

I would report my findings to Star Swirl directly—that is, if I had anything to report. Day in and day out, he would ask that I personally come to the church for an update, but after the third day, he soon asked that I not come in without finding anything at all. Although if I had something, even if it were small, I was to report it. Otherwise, I was given full access to his library.

And there I sat, three days before Nightmare Night, in the church with old files, passing through a pile of books. Hundreds stacked around me—hundreds that I spent day in and day out searching through. But nothing. Not a single sliver of anything useful.

As I sat there, though, one who had lost all faith, reading scripture about how magic worked within the body, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t fascinate me. Sure, most, including me, were taught the basic concepts, but to actually see the advanced scripture that usually only unicorns should have access to was quite an interesting read. And frankly, being a scientist, I strangely understood the basic concept, whether I believed in it or not.

Essentially, the body acted like a battery, holding spiritual energy, often referred to as mana. Children, being underdeveloped, especially as infants, often are not physically capable of holding in such vast amounts of energy, leading them to hyperactive activity—especially when consuming such molecules as sugar. There were essentially two specific types of energy: inner energy, and natural energy, which everything in nature held within its structure, and, if processed correctly, could be used to feed one’s body, such as sugar or salt, and given to the body to make it stronger. Magic needed to be trained. If used too much, too quickly, it would drain one to death. But if improperly trained and built up within a strong body capable of maintaining such energy, it could endlessly grow stronger.

Several appendages of the body were also capable of directing said energy out of the body. One such appendage was the unicorn horn. When one focuses their energy through a unicorn horn, it can charge a ray of energy that is more focused and pinpointed in accuracy than if one didn’t use a horn. Likewise, many other animals have such appendages for similar reasons. Deer antlers, for example, could often be shaved down and used as a replacement for unicorn horns if something happens to them.

Thinking back, I often saw a handful of unicorns with wooden horns shaved from deer antlers. I just thought it was because, without their horns, they looked funny. I didn’t know it was actually a vile replacement for the appendage. Likewise, the wings of a Pegasus, or any flying animal for that matter, could focus said energy in the feathers, dispersing it just enough for basic flight capabilities. Though they still need to be trained to catch the wind and use the breeze for easier flight distribution.

The science was there, all in religious text. Who’d have ever thought that? Still, while fascinating, I closed the book when I realized it would be of no help to what I was trying to accomplish.

Setting it and a handful of more scientifically-based inscriptions of medical science into my book bag, I began to clean up for the day. But as I was about to pick up the last book, I came to a halt and looked it over once more. The title of the book: Nightmare.

With an eye roll, I chuckled at it. It was given to me by Star Swirl. He insisted I take a look at it ever since that day Stygian told us about the silly dream thing. Out of amusement more than seriousness, I opened it up, glancing through its pages, showing the classic Nightmare Night fairy tales that every single pony child knows by heart. I chuckled at the idea of a man of science finding anything in this book of children’s stories, religious or not, to be of any use.

Even so, I read over a few of the words, a grin on my face, with no tendency to believe in such nonsense as this.

“It was said that Nightmare Moon was banished to the moon. But she left her four mighty knights of shadow who were easily vanquished by Celestia not long after. Nightmare Night was the very night of the defeat of her evil sister and her soldiers. And it was Nightmare Night that the soldiers always tried to grow in power and resurrect their master. But those shadows were vilely strong, with the power to haunt ponies' dreams, yet they had no true strength. And were simply frightened without their master. Which is why, on Nightmare Night, we dress as monsters ourselves to drive the shadows away from us and seek glory in the name of Celestia by dining on offerings, not her.”

Reading the last part, I couldn’t help but burst out in a snicker that I could barely hold on to. I covered my mouth in hopes of not disturbing the rest of the church, but I really couldn’t help it. The idea that that’s why we fed on candy during Nightmare Night was ridiculous. “Long ago, it was apples and bread; now it’s chocolate and sweets,” I muttered as I pulled out another piece of chocolate to feed my sugary addiction for the day. Tossing the wrapper aside, I stood up and began making my way out of the stone building, only to find myself blocked by a colt who was rushing in, out of breath. He took a moment to catch it, nearly hyperventilating as he stumbled over his words. “STAR SWIRL! Where is Star Swirl?” he demanded to know. “YOU TAKE ME TO HIM! I must see Star Swirl right away.”

Of course, the next thing I did was lift the pony's forelimb over my shoulder and help him the rest of his way. We quickly ran into the church's main hall, where they were currently holding a funeral for a griffon named Buckbeak at the time.

“What is the meaning of this?” shouted Star Swirl, furious with me. But one look at the colt over my shoulder, and he soon swiped his book from the pedestal and ran out, closing the main hall doors behind him so we didn’t disturb the funeral preparations a moment longer.

“Bring him to my office, quickly now, quickly!” Star Swirl instructed, leading us up a flight of stairs and into his private study.

Despite the urgency of the situation, as soon as I helped the colt sit down, I couldn’t help but feel I was transported through time, sitting in his office once more. Sitting in the center of the grand stone circular tower was a hoof-carved wooden seat. Behind him, there was a massive telescope for stargazing and a shelf full of strange artifacts I didn’t have a clue what to call. There were also shelves of jars filled with strange hair tea and liquids, a mountain of scrolls, and five towers of books that stretched from ceiling to floor, as well as several large chalkboards, all filled to the brim with scribbled scriptures. I had only been here once before—when my mother died—and I told him I cursed him for not doing more before tearing off my own sun pendant and tossing it on the ground. I walked out, all belief in magic gone that day. Imagine my surprise walking into it years later, only to find not a single thing had changed. Not even the smell of the place. It had the odd odor of maple syrup and tea, as if it had ingrained into the walls. And as if on cue, the reason why was simple—there on his desk, the old pony made no hesitation to start a pot of tea.

The same herbal tea he gave my mother and every ill person who walked in and out of that damn church.

With a quick blast of his horn, the water was boiling, and with a quick stir of a tea bag, he quickly poured himself a cup as well as the frantic colt.

Good, I thought. He’d done better than to offer me a single sip of the leader juice.

Handing the frantic colt the cup, Star Swirl then asked with a tired sigh, as if he were finally letting his old age show, “Now, what seems to be the trouble?” as he sat on a red cushioned stool directly across from the colt, who sat in an equally fancy cushioned chair.

The colt took a sip of the tea, silently thanking the old pony before setting it beside him on a bookshelf. “Sir, I was walking through the forest this morning, gathering mushrooms for my wife’s mushroom stew, when…” He visibly shook but then momentarily took a breath and calmed himself before speaking again. “I found a body, sir, mangled beyond description. And—“ he pulled something out of his overalls pocket on his chest.

At that time, I found myself dealing with my own inner turmoil due to my surroundings. Had I not, perhaps I would have been more prepared for what the colt would say next. But as I sat examining the strange ingredients in Star Swirl's collection, when the colt uttered the word “Stygian,” it struck me like a bolt of lightning.

“What!” I spun back, more furious than I meant to be. In truth, it wasn’t fury I felt, but an utter mix of shock and disbelief. My eyes widened at the sight of the pendant in the pony's hand. It was clearly Stygian's sun pendant. It had his name inscribed on the back of it, as all sun pendants often do. Still, even with the evidence, I could not believe it. After all, it was possible that it just fell off him. The strap to it was broken. “WHERE'S THE BODY ?” I demanded to see it. I needed to see it.

But the colt only whimpered in my fury as he dropped his head into his lap. I furiously lost my cool and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, shaking him as I asked him again, “Where is the body? Tell me!”

It was then Star Swirl stood up and began to struggle with me to get off of him. “Do not shoot the messenger!” he shouted before using his magic to stranglehold me, sending me flying across the room and onto the walls, held down by an invisible field like a child. “Control yourself, Dr. Hooves!” he demanded before letting me drop. And drop I did. I slid down the wall, my eyes fixed on the pendant that once belonged to my best friend.