In The Doghouse

Pain. All of Twilight’s senses registered pain. Dull, throbbing pain ran from the very tip of her horn down to her hooves. Every single facet of her body felt as though it had been put through a meat grinder or run over by a carriage. Her throat felt like sandpaper heated over a stove, and her tongue was swollen and had the consistency of a cotton ball. Twilight’s eyes were closed and her mind was fuzzy and clouded. What had happened? Her brother’s wedding, the reception, the wine…

Twilight’s eyes opened as she fully awoke, but she closed them just as fast. A bright light had landed right on her face. The mare groaned and slowly sat up on the bed.

Wait. Bed?

Every so slowly she opened her eyes, wincing when the light contacted her pupils. Lances of pain dove through her horn and back of her head. A minute passed before the unicorn could open her eyes fully, and she instantly became curious as to what she saw.

Twilight was sitting on a bed, quite a large bed, too. It was much too big to belong to a pony, unless they were rich. It was nearly twice her body length and very wide. Plush white sheets covered what she assumed to be a feather mattress, judging by the softness. Turning around she saw a pillow and a simple oak headboard, placed up against a wall. Lying on top of her was a thick blue comforter; simple, but warm.

The mare’s eyes scanned over her surroundings, brain processing the interesting room she was in. It was, just like the bed, large. To her left was a nightstand, about the height of the bed, carved from some dark wood. Sitting on the stand was an old-fashioned oil lamp, the metal colored a soft and soothing bronze. Past the nightstand was a dresser, taller than anything a pony would need, with the exception of Rarity. The walls were made from a tan stone, cut into blocks and fit with a lighter colored mortar. No windows occupied the walls, though there was one. Cut into the ceiling was a skylight, made from what appeared to be two pieces of glass. Sticking out from its edge of was a handle, likely used to open one half to let in light. Dust motes flitted about in a single beam of light that hit the floor, like some careless fool had dropped a thick glob of honey on the floorboards. Set into the wall was a tall door, a shiny brass doorknob bouncing light off itself. The room was certainly quaint, and appealed to Twilight’s organized mind. Who owned it, though? It was clearly made for a nonpony, if the size of the furniture was anything to go by.

Twilight was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps from beyond the door. The doorknob turned and the door swung open with a creak. Entering the room was a rather curious sight. A Diamond Dog, bigger than any Twilight had ever seen. It was covered with black fur, but that couldn’t hide the muscle that flexed and tensed under the hide. Wide, powerful forearms made just for digging were attached to two sets of claws that were currently holding a tray. On the tray were slices of apples and oranges, arranged in a neat fashion. A glass of water was also on the tray. The oddest thing, however, was the frilly pink apron that the dog was wearing.

She stared at the dog.

The dog stared at her.

Time passed, neither saying or doing anything, both just staring, one set of blue eyes looking into a set of large black ones. Finally the Diamond Dog took the initiative and stepped forward. A primal fear awoke in Twilight. Despite the dog looking completely silly in the apron, it was still a predator, and having had less than pleasant dealings with the canines in the past, the lavender unicorn felt afraid. She flailed her legs and tried to back up, ramming into the wall beside the bed. The dog stopped and raised an eyebrow at the pony’s panicked state. Her eyes had gone wide with fear and she kept trying to gain distance, but the dog resumed his pace.

While Twilight was very smart and praised rationality, there were times where she acted like an escaped mental patient, basing all decisions on out of control emotions and the fear that somehow the princess would be disappointed in her. The dog stopped at the edge of the bed, and Twilight curled into a ball and closed her eyes, waiting for it to kill and serve her up on a platter with a side of citrus. There was a clink as it set the tray down on the nightstand, and Twilight felt the bed she was on sag in one direction as her canine captor sat next to her.

Instead of a horrific death by teeth or claws, a soft, gentle paw began stroking her mane, and a calming, baritone voice spoke in a language she didn’t understand. The Diamond Dog continued to stroke her mane and speak softly. When Twilight realized that it wasn’t going to eat her she lifted her head up and saw the small, pitying smile on its face. Cautiously she pulled herself from the fetal position and sat on her haunches, coking her head to the side in curiosity. The dog reached over and picked the tray off the nightstand, setting it down on the bed before her.

Twilight leaned down and gave a tentative sniff of the fruit. While he may seem nice now, she reasoned to herself, there wasn’t any sense in being rash. Everything smelled okay, and the glass of water beckoned to her with whispers of “Drink me, Twilight! Drink me!” her dry throat screamed at her to drink, and finally she did.

Placing a hoof on both sides of the glass, Twilight carefully picked it up, not wanting to aggravate her headache with magic. The first sip was wonderful, and she moaned aloud in near orgasmic bliss. Lips sucked greedily, her throat flexed as the water vanished and soothed the pain of her esophagus. All too soon the ecstasy ended, and Twilight found herself with an empty glass. Pleadingly she looked at the Diamond Dog and asked “May I have some more?”

The dog looked confused for a second before saying something. Twilight remembered him speaking while he had comforted her and frowned. So he didn’t know Equestrian. This would make things more difficult. Twilight motioned towards the glass, trying to get her point across. Comprehension dawned on her savior’s face and he nodded, picking the glass up and leaving the room, heavy footfalls echoing on hardwood.

Twilight turned her attention to the food, expertly picking up an apple slice with her hooves and biting into it, a crisp crunch sounding in her mouth. The apple was good, but it didn’t compare to anything from Sweet Apple Acres. A smile graced the mare’s lips at the thought of Applejack criticizing the fruit, whether it be on the flavor or the color. Twilight chewed and swallowed, finishing off the slice. The mare turned her eyes upwards and saw the very tip of her horn, sighing ruefully. Once her headache was gone she would be able to use magic without pain. All signs pointed to a hangover, and Twilight cursed herself for using magic while intoxicated, though she didn’t remember why.

The dog came back, minus the apron, with the refilled glass which Twilight drank more slowly this time, savoring the coolness of the water and drinking in between fruit slices. During her meal the Diamond Dog sat on the edge of the bed and watched her, his face filled with mild curiosity. Twilight finished and faced her savior.

Lifting a paw into the air he tapped himself on the chest and said something. Twilight brightened when she realized it must be his name. It was a bit harsh sounding. She practiced a few times before it was correct.

His name was Nokto.

Twilight tried the same. “Twilight,” she said, pointing towards herself.

“Twelit.”

“Twilight,” she repeated.

“Twelat.”

“Twilight.”

“Twilit.”

It took longer for Nokto to pronounce her name correctly, but he soon got it. Minutes ticked by as her new friend pointed to objects in the room and said their names, Twilight repeating them until they were correct. She had always been studious though languages were something she had passed up, instead choosing to focus on magic and the sciences. All that the mare knew of other languages was a bit of Griffic, and even that was basic.

Standing up, Nokto motioned for her to follow, and she did, awkwardly clambering off the bed. Curiosity filled Twilight’s mind, wondering what he was going to show her. She was a tad giddy at the prospect of knowledge from some un-contacted civilization. Diamond Dogs weren’t known to live in anything except tunnels and caves, and all attempts at fostering peaceful relations between the two groups had ended badly. Diamond Dogs lived in small bands, scrounging around for gems. There weren’t many, and they were believed to be going extinct, as more and more dens were turning up empty.

Twilight walked out into a small hallway, one side leading off to an open door, a bathroom peeking out. The other side lead to a staircase, which Nokto began heading down, turning to make sure she was following. Old stairs creaked and groaned with each step.

The stairs opened up to a single room, taking up what Twilight thought was the entire level. Smooth, glossy wood served as flooring, placed down in thin planks. It was cheerfully lit, the window shutters wide open; Twilight caught a glimpse of trees outside. A kitchen area sat on the right side, cabinets mounted above a rustic stove and a simple sink, various cooking utensils like pots pans and spatulas hung from hooks on the walls. A table surrounded by four chairs was placed next to it. Standing nearly as tall as her was a fireplace, light colored stone wrapping around an iron grate. Two plush, red chairs were situated in front of the fireplace, a sofa thrice as long as either of them sat in the middle. All three looked comfortable and inviting.

What caught Twilight’s eye, though, was the left side of the room. Stacked to the ceiling on shelves which sagged under the weight, were books. Hundreds of beautiful, glorious books. Books of all sizes and colors. Some tall and thick, other short and skinny. Bindings of dark leather clashed with lighter, more cheerful colors. Giving a high-pitched squee that made Nokto cover his ears and wince, Twilight cantered to the bookshelves and tried to hug them, stretching her forelegs wide and making a noble, but foolhardy, attempt at holding all that knowledge. Nokto, meanwhile, looked on in confusion, trying to understand the anomaly he had come in contact with. He swore he could see tiny hearts fluttering around the mare’s head, but he dismissed that as his imagination.

Nokto walked over to her and placed a paw on her shoulder, taking her out of the paper induced high. Twilight started but turned around and noticed Nokto’s confused look. She gave a sheepish grin and went back down on all fours.

“Uh, sorry about that. I just get excited when I see books. You still can’t understand me, can you?” she asked.

The unicorn thought for a moment, then motioned towards the books and mimicked opening one. Nokto understood that easily enough then raised his paw.

Twilight’s jaw nearly came unhinged as the dog’s paw glowed with a blue aura. It wrapped around a few small tomes on the very top of the bookshelf and pulled them down. Nokto set them in front of her, but Twilight’s eyes were still stuck on his paw.

“That’s impossible!” she shouted, pointing an accusing hoof at the Shepard. “Diamond Dogs can’t use magic like that. Only unicorns can! How did you do that? Is there some other unicorn hiding somewhere? Let me see your paw!”

Twilight grabbed the appendage between her two hooves and studied it, turning it around and around, poking and prodding at the digits, mumbling under her breath. Nokto watched, a bit bemused, as the unicorn tried to figure out how he did magic. A moment later his eyes bugged out as her horn glowed and his hand was wrapped with pink colored magic.

Wincing as the spell aggravated her headache, Twilight scanned the paw, looking for any trace of magic. Instead of a small trace of magic, which all things had, she found an incredibly developed magic system, almost an exact copy of a unicorn’s. Internal leylines ran through nerves and organs, shining like strings of copper in the sun. All converged in an area just below the dog’s navel.

“That. Is. Not. Possible! There are no records of complicated magic systems existing outside equines! Well there’s Discord, and the changelings, but I suppose the changelings are equine in nature! You don’t make sense!”

Twilight had a very delicate psyche, one where everything made perfect sense and fit into a neatly organized checklist. Yet sometimes things would contradict that view on reality, and Twilight had a strange way of coping with her world being crushed.

Temporary insanity.

Strands of her mane fell out of place with an audible springing noise, like a guitar string being plucked the wrong way. Pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks and a maniacal smile wormed its way to her face.

“I’ll make you make sense. I’ll find out your mysteries! Maybe a dissection will help! Maybe – “

Twilight was cut off when a fist connected with the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the floor. Nokto stood above her, breathing heavily, face filled with fear. Carefully he walked over to the prone pony and gently nudged her with a toe. She didn’t move.

The pony was out cold.

***

“The spell worked. We’ve summoned one.”

“Well, where is it?”

A pause. The voice spoke up, laced with apprehension. “In the middle of Senpaga.”

“How did it get there?”

"Something interfered with our spell. The summoning point was moved by unknown magic.”

A sigh. “The dogs have it, then. I’ll bet it’s already at the college. You failed.”

“Please, Ma’am. Give me another chance! I can track it down!”

“No.”

A scream filled the air.

There was silence.