Blood Magic: Twilight's Foray Into Necromancy
Twilight Sparkle looked up from the scroll she was studying to inspect the room before her. She noted the dark interior of the library, the only illumination coming from the five crystals arranged on small pedestals in a star before her. Twilight scanned the dark lines of paint that swirled and twisted along the floor in long, intricate shapes. Lastly, she noted the small bowl in the center of the room, filled to the brim with water. Smiling in satisfaction, she said, “All right, everything is set.” Turning to her dragon assistant, she added, “Are you ready Spike?”
Spike glanced about the room uncertainly, before responding, “I’m not so sure about this, Twilight. I mean, you’ve never needed all this stuff for a spell before, and-“
“But that’s just it Spike!” Twilight exclaimed. “This spell is unlike anything I’ve ever attempted, that’s why I’m so excited! I’ve never had to use reagents in a spell before, and now is a perfect opportunity to try!”
Spike shook his head. “But Twilight, you don’t even know what this spell does! It could be dangerous!” It was true; the spell Twilight was about to attempt was one that Twilight had discovered in the Royal Archives. After her rather disastrous attempt to stop time during the “Future Twilight” fiasco, Twilight had finally realized that her access to the Royal Archives had not been lost when she had moved to Ponyville. Naturally, this prompted Twilight to embrace her newfound freedom by requesting a large majority of Starswirl the Bearded’s works to be sent to the Library.
Over the course of the next few months, Twilight had slowly worked her way through the veritable mountain of spells that her idol had invented. Every night she devoted at least an hour of her time to study and replicate Starswirl’s signature creations, both the famous and the obscure.
Then, one fateful night, she had found it. A strange scroll, unlike the others in that it was untitled, yet bore the unmistakable markings of Starswirl’s hornwriting. Not to be deterred, Twilight had pored over the scroll, her keen analytical mind allowing her to follow its instructions to the letter.
Nevertheless, Spike still regarded the scroll with some concern. Twilight looked to her assistant with a dismissive huff. “Spike, this spell was created by Starswirl the Bearded. I’m sure he took every possible precaution. He was the greatest wizard of all time, after all.” Twilight smiled smugly, and Spike, seeing her resolve, admitted to himself that there was nothing he could do to stop her. Heaving a sigh, Spike shrugged, grabbing the checklist Twilight had created in preparation for this event.
“Fine. So, casting runes?”
Twilight gave the shapes etched into her floor a cursory glance, before nodding. “Check.”
“Focusing shards?”
“Check.” Twilight said, using her magic to lift a cloth and give one of the crystals a quick polish.
“And lastly, the ‘liquid of life’?”
Twilight looked to the bowl. This was the most confusing of the steps. The scroll simply referred to a ‘liquid of life’ without going into any more detail. Since no life could exist without water, Twilight assumed this is what the scroll had been alluding to. “Check.”
Spike ticked off the last mark on the checklist, before saying nervously, “Well, that’s everything. Are you absolutely sure, Twilight? It’s not too late to back out of this.”
Twilight huffed. “I’m positive Spike. We have to do this, for Science!” With that Twilight trotted into the center of the room, her horn igniting in a magenta glow as she prepared to cast the spell. Immediately, the crystals seemed to absorb her magic as tendrils snaked out from her horn to connect with each of the crystals. Twilight continued to pour magic into the spell, her horn growing increasingly brighter and her face contorting into one of intense concentration. Slowly, the glow continued to grow more radiant, until the symbols on the floor began to exude the same light, quickly matching the luminescence of the crystals. All the while, the bowl remained still, the glare of the light reflecting of the water, but causing little else to occur.
Then, in a blaze of light, the crystals each sent out a beam of light, connecting them to the other crystals, forming the shape of a pentagram around the Unicorn, entrapping her in its center. From his place against the wall, Spike’s concern grew as Twilight gave a cry of shock, the burst of magic having been drawn directly from her. As Spike looked on, he felt the air begin to take on a sort of coalescence, growing thick with static as the energy buildup was threatening to burst.
Twilight continued, despite the struggle to maintain the spell. The scroll had warned her that this spell required a massive amount of magic. Twilight however had remained confident, believing her abilities were up to the task. Now, as she felt her knees begin to shake under the stress of keeping her upright, she wasn’t so sure. Any further thought was cut off as Twilight found herself encapsulated within a sphere of magic, slowly lifting her off the ground and suspending her in the center of the room, just above the pedestal. The shock of movement caused Twilight’s eyes to snap open in panic, as her frantic gaze looked down to the ground slowly lifting away from her. Panicking, Twilight attempted to cease the flow of magic issuing form her horn, but found herself unable to. Rather than controlling the spell, Twilight discovered the opposite was now true; it was controlling her, draining her like a battery. Crying out in panic, Twilight began to struggle in her own magical grip, but her futile swipes failed to free her, and only served to tire her out faster.
As Twilight readied to call out to Spike, hoping the baby dragon could do something to help her, her thoughts were suddenly struck blank as a massive wave of pain swept through her body. Twilight screamed in agony as what felt like a million needles stabbed into her skin, and her insides burned as though her blood was trying to escape her body. For what felt like an eternity, Twilight could only thrash about in the magical grip, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Then, in a moment, it was over. The light disappeared in one last burst of magic, and Twilight was dumped unceremoniously to the floor, knocking into the pedestal and sending the bowl of water clattering to the floor, causing its contents to splash out and form a small puddle. Within seconds Spike was at the Unicorn’s side, looking down at her unconscious form but unwilling to move her, lest he injure her further. Scanning his surrogate sister worriedly, he let out a sigh of relief as he saw that she was breathing. She was alive. Spike quickly deduced that he needed to go get help, possibly a doctor, but as he looked down on the unconscious Unicorn, he was torn. He needed to go get help, but he was unwilling to leave her, lest she suddenly get worse or, Celestia forbid, die because he wasn’t there to help her.
“Oh, what am I gonna do?” Spike said, tears beginning to spring to his eyes at the hopelessness of his situation. Suddenly, a soft, curious “Who.” caused Spike to look upwards, and give a sobbing cry of relief at the sight before him. There, flapping gently in the air above him was Owlowiscious, his avian features tinged with worry.
“Owlowiscious!” Spike cried ecstatically. “Quick, Twilight’s hurt! I need you to go get a doctor!” Without hesitation, the owl nodded and, with a flap of his wings, disappeared out a window and into the night. Spike watched him depart, before turning his attention back to Twilight.
Spike sat in the waiting room of the Hospital, fiddling with his claws as he fought the urge to barge past the receptionist, making his way into the emergency room just to reassure himself that she was okay. Thankfully, the doctor had assured him that he would be back soon. That reassurance, however had been said almost an hour ago, and Spike was running out of patience. Spike thought back to when the emergency ponies had burst into the Library, Owlowiscious in tow, and quickly settled Twilight onto a stretcher, before loading her into a carriage and rushing to the hospital. The memory grated on Spike’s already frayed nerves and just as he thought he would be unable to resist any longer, the doors to emergency care were thrown open, and Dr. Stable strode through, a solemn expression on his face. Spike leapt from his seat, rushing over to the doctor. “How is she?” Spike demanded, reaching up to grab the stallion by the withers. “Is she okay? Is she-“
“She’s alright, Spike.” Dr. Stable said, flashing the dragon a reassuring smile. Immediately Spike heaved a sigh of relief and released the doctor, flopping back onto his rear and fighting back tears of joy that his guardian was safe. “She was missing a lot of blood.” The doctor continued, his expression twisting into one of confusion. “However, we couldn’t find any cuts on her. Thankfully, we recognized the symptoms and were quick to give her a transfusion. She’s sleeping now, and we’ve hooked her up to an IV to get her some fluids. She should pull through just fine.
Spike sighed with relief yet again, happy to learn that Twilight would be able to make a full recovery. “Can I go see her?” He asked hopefully, his expression falling when the doctor shook his head.
“It would be best to let her rest for now. Do you want somepony to take you home? I promise that you can come visit her in the morning.” The doctor offered, only for Spike to shake his head roughly.
“No way, I’m not leaving Twilight alone. I’ll wait all night if I have to.” Turning on his heel, Spike strode over to the waiting bench, plopping himself down onto it and crossing his arms, his expression darkening into one of determination. He met the doctor’s skeptical gaze for a few moments before he was swept up in a wave of exhaustion and he fell backwards, asleep within moments.
Chuckling to himself, Dr. Stable turned to the receptionist. “Nurse, would you kindly keep an eye on him? I have other patients to attend to.” The nurse gave quick nod, and Dr. Stable turned, striding back into the emergency center.
The inky blackness that shrouded Twilight’s vision slowly melted away, and the Unicorn let out a groan. Her entire body was sore, and Twilight fought the urge to retch as every slight movement brought forth a new surge of agony. Twilight blearily blinked away the tiredness from her eyes, and, with a colossal effort, turned her head to her right examine her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the foal-blue wallpaper; its soft colors thankfully soothing her savage headache. As the pounding in her head began to recede, she became aware of a soft, regular beep beep beep that her scientific studies allowed her to recognize as an electrocardiograph.
Turning her head again she looked to the to the left, now seeing the machine. She also spotted a stand propped up next to it, between her and the bed, and after a moment of thought she recognized it as a saline drip. Following the tube reaching down from the bag of fluids with a growing sense of dread, Twilight grimaced as she spotted the needle stuck into her foreleg. Knowing better than to remove it, Twilight instead did her best to ignore the needle, instead focusing her energy on trying to remember how the Hay she had gotten into a Hospital.
As Twilight searched through her muddled thoughts, the events leading up to her awakening returned to her in a brief burst of clarity, and she gasped. The spell, something had clearly gone wrong, and she certainly hadn’t come out of it unscathed. Immediately her thoughts went to her draconic assistant, and a surge of guilt passed through her as she considered what the misfired spell could have done to him. She had to make sure he was okay. However, as she felt the pain radiating through her body, she admitted that there was no way for her to accomplish this on her own.
Well, I am in a Hospital. She thought. Mustering up her strength, she sucked in a breath and shouted, “Nurse.” What came out however was a whisper worthy of Fluttershy, her parched throat turning her voice into a hollow croak. Clearing her throat, Twilight tried again. “Nurse!”
This call was better, but was unlikely to breach the walls of her room. Twilight prepared herself, sucking in another great breath she shouted, “NURSE!” This call was sufficiently loud that Twilight was confident it would be heard, and she collapsed back into her bed, exhausted.
Twilight waited for the nurse to arrive for a solid minute, and just as she was about to give up and ready herself to call out again, the door slowly opened and a Unicorn stallion strode in. Glancing from his tan coat to his well-combed chestnut mane, Twilight quickly recognized him as Rainbow Dash’s doctor during the ‘Daring Do Incident’, Dr. Stable.
The Doctor’s expression went from concerned to relieved as he saw that Twilight was awake, and he said, “Miss Sparkle, I’m glad to see you are awake. How are you feeling?”
Twilight groaned again as she sat up in the bed, leaning back against her pillow. “Awful.” She croaked. “Where is Spike? Is he okay?” The doctor strode up to her bed, examining the graph and nodding in satisfaction.
Turning back to Twilight, he answered, “Yes, Spike is fine. He’s in the waiting room, asleep. He refused to leave you here alone.” The doctor smiled as Twilight’s expression softened in relief and admiration for her friend’s efforts. “If you want, I can wake him up, and bring him to you. Its not technically visiting hours, but I’d be happy to make an exception.”
Twilight smiled appreciatively, but shook her head. “No, it’s fine. After today, he needs his sleep.” Twilight paused to let out a large yawn, her eyelids drooping halfway shut. “I think I could use some sleep too.”
Dr. Stable smiled. “Alright, I have some questions I’ll need to ask you, but they can wait. Rest well, Miss Sparkle.” Dr. Stable then turned and left the room, gently shutting the door behind him. Twilight settled back into the bed, and closed her eyes. Her thoughts drifted back to the pain she had felt during the spell, and she grimaced, before sighing in relief as sleep began to overtake her.
The Graveyard was quiet, save for the soft whisper of wind rustling the leaves that remained in the trees. The brilliant orange, brown, and red of the changing colors were muted in the darkness of the night. Above, a full moon sat in an empty sky, the cloudless night allowing it to cast down pseudo-sunlight. A pale facsimile of the day, but more than the simple darkness of the night. A Twilight.
Suddenly, a new sound pierced the silence. A strange, curious sound, growing steadily louder. It was similar to flowing water, but accompanied by something else; soft whispers, their words too quiet to make out. Nevertheless, something behind the words, something sinister, gave them a feel of malevolence.
The sounds grew intensity, as finally their source crested a hill and moved into view. It flowed through the air, twisting and quivering but retaining the same whip-like shape. It quickly made its way among the headstones, strafing through them until finally stopping before one. For a moment, it simply hung there, its surface rippling softly. It was in this stationary pose that one could finally make out the details of it in the moonlight. Its entire surface was a deep, shadowy crimson. The color of blood.
Suddenly, as if fed up with observing the grave before it, the tendril of blood reared back, before lunging forward, thrusting itself toward the dirt before the headstone, as the sounds suddenly grew to a climax, becoming deafening as the whispers grew into a solid, yet incomprehensible chant. As the tendril made contact with the soil, rather than splashing into the dirt, it instead flowed through it, passing through the Earth until it disappeared from sight.
As if a switch had been thrown, the sounds stopped, the chant dying off as quickly as it had come. For a moment, the world fell still. The wind had died, the moonlight seemed to grow dimmer, and the graveyard became as cold and still as its occupants.
Then, the silence was broken by a soft shuffling noise. The dirt before the gravestone shifted, small pebbles shaking loose and rolling about. The movement grew more and more insistent, culminating in such violent quaking that the tombstone itself was wobbling from the force, until all at once, the shaking stopped. The grave grew still, and for a few moments, silence returned to the graveyard.
The silence was suddenly broken, however, when with a loud crunch a single shape forced itself up through the soil. Its ebony shape offered a stark silhouette against the slate grey of the tombstone. Its shape was long and jagged, with craggy protrusions throughout its surface, and finally terminating in a flat, solid hoof.
The scene began to fade, darkness encroaching upon the borders of the image, that black hoof the last thing to be swallowed up by darkness.
The image shifted, warping into that of a new perspective. This one was unlike the other in that it was in motion, bobbing up and down with its viewer’s steps. Stranger, even was the odd maroon tint that seemed to encapsulate its vision, yet worked well to illuminate the darkness of the night.
The viewer, whoever or whatever it was, seemed to be approaching a large building. As it drew nearer, one could make out the image of a red cross above the door. A Hospital. Without stopping it pressed forward, pushing open the doors into the soft light of the waiting room.
It cast its gaze about the room, first settling upon the mare seated at the main desk, her head lying on the novel before her as she drooled against the pages. It then cast its gaze to the waiting benches, where curled up was a baby dragon, his chest rising and falling with easy breaths, and with a single claw stuck in his mouth, gently sucking. It seemed to regard the dragon for a moment, cocking its head to the side in, what? Confusion? Recognition?
Whatever its interest in the dragon was, it was quick to abandon it in favor of turning toward the door marked ‘Emergency Care’. Trotting past the receptionist, it carefully extended a blackened hoof to ease the door open, before stepping through into the hallway.
Before it lay a maze of doors and branching hallways, but it proceeded without even a moment to get its bearings. It knew where it was going. It knew where its target was. At one point a guard was heard heading towards it from one of the hallways, and it quickly stepped back, melding into the shadows. The guard turned the corner, a light issuing from his horn, and gave a quick scan of the hallways. As the flashlight threatened to pass over its hiding spot, it tensed in preparation to strike. It would not be impeded in its quest to reach its goal. It would tear into the guard, ripping him to pieces before he could so much as scream.
Thankfully the guard’s light failed to reach it, and with a satisfied nod, the guard finished his sweep of the area and continued on his way. It waited for a few moments after he was gone, then continued on its journey. Within minutes it had reached its target: a simple door, exactly like the others, but what lay inside was what it truly sought. It opened the door and stepped inside.
Immediately upon entering the room, it saw its target. There, lying on the bed was a lavender Unicorn, her body prone upon the hospital bed. It walked forward, drawing closer to her, and as it approached more details made themselves visible to it. While her breathing was steady and even, her face was contorted into one of panic, and she was visibly shivering, the tremors only getting worse the closer that it approached. As it drew up next to her, she looked to be having a full-on seizure. None of this mattered to it though, as it slowly extended a hoof to her side…
“Waaagh!” Twilight cried, bolting upright, her steady breathing of sleep now reduced to great shuddering gasps. She laid a hoof over her chest, feeling the thundering of her heart. Her wide eyes darted about the room, before finally settling on the door. It was firmly shut, and Twilight breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes and wiping away the sweat on her brow with a hoof.
Suddenly, a soft shifting noise to her right made her eyes snap open, and she slowly turned her head to face the source of the noise, a sense of dread building within her gut. Said feeling seemed to transform into a solid lead weight as Twilight turned to fully face the source of the noise.
There, not five feet away from her bed, was a figure, watching her. Its entire body was hidden in shadow, but despite this, its eyes were easily visible. This was due to the fact that they glowed with a bloody crimson light, and were looking directly at her.
Frozen in fear, Twilight could only look on dumbly as the figure stepped into the moonlight streaming through the window. “Mistress…”
Twilight screamed.