I reclined awkwardly in my seat, my wings getting in the way. Despite the fact that I had been an alicorn for over half a year now, I still had difficulty adjusting to my new appendages.
Doesn’t help that I haven’t preened in nearly a month. I’m going to have to pay Fluttershy a visit when I get back.
There was the squeal of a whistle blowing and the train I was on shuddered into life, pulling away from Ponyville. I glanced out the window, and gave a small wave to Spike, my number one assistant, who was stood on the station, still upset that I was leaving him behind. I gave a smile, for his sake more than mine. I hadn’t felt like smiling since... Well, since Rarity and Luna fell... Ill.
I sighed, and leant my head against the window, ignoring the scenery as it flashed by, lost in my memories of that dreadful night.
“Doctor, is the straitjacket necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
I looked into the white, box-like room, my friend Rarity sat in the middle, her hooves wrapped up in a straitjacket. Incoherent mumbles fell from her lips, punctuated with giggles. Her violet mane was frazzled, looking more like a bush than the well-kept coiffure she usually sported. There was a cut on her cheek, just below her bloodshot eyes, which rolled wildly in their sockets, staring at things that only she could see.
I swallowed a sob. This wasn’t my friend. This couldn’t be my friend. The real Rarity had taken on a pack of Diamond Dogs by herself, using nothing more than her mind and her strong will.
This was just a pale shadow of my friend.
“Alighting for Canterlot,” the conductor cried, knocking me out of my memories. “Alight here for Canterlot. Next stop, Manehatten.”
I yawned and stretched, before walking off the train onto the near deserted train station. Not many ponies were willing to travel at this time of night. I thanked Celestia for that, as I wasn’t exactly in a presentable state, with my feathers crooked, my mane and tail as frazzled as Pinkie’s hair and bags under my bloodshot eyes. Not exactly an image a princess of Equestria wants to cultivate.
I looked up into the city, identifying the tower which housed my destination—the Princess Luna Asylum, now the home of both Rarity and the mare it was named after. I shuddered. Whatever it was that caused the “Night of Madness”, it had affected Princess Luna too, degenerating her mind to that of a rabid beast.
I briefly considered flying, but there was a storm brewing and I didn’t want to damage my wings. The last time I had let my wings get this bad, Rainbow Dash had chewed me out for it. Resigning myself to walking, I began trotting along the familiar streets, the darkness of the night throwing unfamiliar shadows over everything.
Despite the dark and the cold, I felt good as I walked down the streets of Canterlot. Being busy with my research into pony psychology recently had left me with little time for exercise, or even to leave the library I lived in, so the simple, repetitive exercise became quite enjoyable.
Note to self—have Rainbow and Spike set up an exercise regime for me. I need to get outside more.
Of course, thinking about my studies just reminded me that I had yet to produce anything even resembling a hypothesis as to the cause of the unexpected bout of insanity. At this point, Spike’s suggestion that it was caused by malevolent beings from beyond the mortal coil was a valid idea, despite being scientifically laughable.
I snorted at myself, surprised that I was considering such a silly idea. After all, Discord is the only supernatural being I know, and he states that even in his darkest hour not even this would be considered funny. So it wasn’t him, and Grogar, Tirek and the other enemies of Equestria are still powerless and bound within Tartarus.
So that just means it’s something new. Or something very old.
I shook my head. This speculation wasn’t going anywhere except in circles. I turned one last corner and found myself outside the asylum. Despite the late hour, lights shone through the windows.
Entering the building, I saw the receptionist look up from her desk, her eyes widening as I approached.
"Welcome, Your Highness," she said, bowing. "Doctor Ink Blot is waiting for you in room 60."
I nodded. "Thank you. I know the way."
I left the reception, walking down a corridor that dug deep into the mountain, before arriving at Ink Blot's office. Knocking once, I let myself in.
The small office was cluttered with books and papers, broken up only by an impressive collection if unwashed mugs. Still, despite the poor state of the office, I knew that the doctor was a genius in the field of psychological ailments.
Behind a desk buried beneath a mountain of paper was the doctor in question—a skinny piebald unicorn with a pair of spectacles balanced precariously his nose. Upon seeing me, he tried to leap up and to bow at the same time, almost smacking his head against the desk.
“Your Highness, welcome, welcome. I am terribly sorry for dragging you out here at this time of night, I do appreciate you coming,” he said, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“Its fine Doctor, I don’t mind at all,” I smoothly replied. “Your letter—it said Rarity wanted to speak to me?”
“Yes, yes, it is most peculiar.” Ink Blot led me back out into the corridor. “This morning Miss Rarity became completely lucid. It didn’t last long—five minutes exactly, to be precise.”
“Exactly five minutes?”
“Yes! We were able to time it, because an hour later it happened again. It happened every hour, on the hour, for exactly five minutes.”
“What does this mean?” I asked. Never in my studies had I heard of something like this before.
“No idea. It’s far too mechanical for her to be recovering, and if she is recovering, why now?” Ink Blot glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as we carried on down the corridors, deep into the mountain. “But what prompted us to contact you, however, was that each time she became lucid, she would immediately ask to speak to you.”
“Me?” I asked incredulously. “What does she want with me?”
Ink Blot shrugged. “I don’t know. Your ears only. Anyway, if we hurry we should get there before she becomes lucid again.”
We carried on down the corridor in contemplative silence, past various rooms filled with all kinds of ponies—the other patients. I stole a quick glance at one of them, only to sigh in disappointment to see my old friend Lyra bound to her bed, a nurse injecting her with something.
A few more turns and we found ourselves outside of Rarity’s room. I stared through the window, examining the pure white room. I gasped at the sight of my friend. Rarity was sat in the middle of the room, her purple mane flat against her withers, the ends split and curling. Her forelimbs were held across her chest by a straight jacket. She rocked to and fro on her haunches, eyes staring into space, her libs mumbling. A band of cold iron was wrapped around her horn, preventing her use of magic.
It was a shocking sight, and one I was still not used to.
Ink Blot pulled a pocket watch out, mumbling under his breath. “Five... four... three... two... and one.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a change overcame Rarity. Her eyes lost their glazed look, becoming active and alert. She sat up straighter, and no longer rocked. The mumbling ceased. She turned, and looked straight at me, smiling. Her lips moved, and whilst the sound was blocked by the soundproof glass, I could easily read her lips.
“Twilight, you’re here.”
Without thinking, I immediately teleported into the room. “Rarity?”
“Twilight! Thank Celestia, you came! Even if you look almost as bad as I do.”
I couldn’t help myself. I hugged her. “Rarity! I’ve missed you!”
“I know, dear, I know,” she said, leaning into the hug. “Now, to business, we don’t have long.”
“Rarity?” I asked. “What’s going on? How come you’re...” I waved vaguely in her direction.
“Lucid?” she said with a smile. “I’m fighting back, thats what. I’m losing, but I’m fighting.”
“Fighting what? The insanity?”
“No, darling, IT. That which feeds on the madness of artists. Dark Arts is the least of It’s servants, and It’s going to strike again.”
“It? What is it?” I grabbed hold of her shoulders, looking her in the eye.
“It’s the—AH!” Rarity screamed, and fell over, shuddering as if lightning was coursing through her body..
“Rarity!” I cried, picking her up.
“I told you I’m losing.” She looked at me, sadness in her eyes. “I think... This shall be the last time we shall speak.”
“What? No! Rarity, you’re going to get better!” I was sobbing now. I had seen it in her eyes. Rarity—proud, strong, independant Rarity—was giving up, surrendering to the madness.
“It’s too—AH! Too late for me,” she gasped as another shock went through her. “Twilight, you have to stop it.”
“Stop what? Rarity? What do I have to stop?”
Rarity began to choke, barely able to spit her words out. “Elements... Danger... Arkham... Stars... Beware!” Suddenly, she collapsed in my arms, completely still.
“Rarity?” I asked, tentatively rolling her over.
“He-he-he,” she laughed, glazed eyes looking up at me. “What a pretty face. But I can make it so much more. Oh, where oh where is my needle and thread? Stich-stich-stich! Ha Ha ha!”
I backed away in horror. Rarity was gone, leaving behind a mad creature wearing her skin. And if she was telling the truth, then she was gone for good.
She began to laugh again, that haunting, broken laugh of a mare equally disturbed and elated, each chuckle sending shivers down my spine.
With a flash of purple light, I fled, abandoning my friend.
I sat in Ink Blot’s office, sobbing heavily, the mental calming exercises Celestia had taught me as a filly running through my mind. I was dimly aware of Ink Blot sat next to me, a comforting hoof over my shoulders, and a hot cup of tea between my hooves.
After an age, I began to calm down, taking a sip from the now tepid cup.
“Princess, are feeling okay?” Ink Blot asked me, one hoof gently rubbing my withers.
“Not really,” I croaked out, wiping a few more tears of my face. “I thought I could handle it, you know? But she was so normal—and then she just dissapeared before me. She’s gone. My best friend is gone.”
I shuddered, about to sob again, but Ink Blot preempted me. “What did she say to you?”
“I don’t know, really. She said she was fighting... something, and that she was losing.” I paused, recalling the conversation. “The Elements. She mentioned the Elements. They are in danger.”
“The artifacts? Or the ponies?” Ink Blot asked. I shook my head.
“Either. Or both. We are one and the same.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember if she had said anything else. “A name... Arkham. Does that mean anything to you?”
“It does,” he replied. “It’s a town, to the east. Just south of Manehatten. Rural place, like Ponyville. Lots of strange stories come out of that town, and a fair few patients.”
I looked at him, my eyes widening. “You don’t think there is a link, do you?”
Ink Blot shrugged. “We don’t even know if Miss Rarity was telling the truth. It could just be more mad ramblings.”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “Her words meant something.” They have to.
“Well, I’m afraid I don’t have any more ideas for you.” He paused, and looked up. “Do you wish to see Princess Luna?” I shook my head. I didn’t think I could handle seeing another friend like that tonight. “It’s getting late. You should leave now if you want to catch the last train back to Ponyville.”
I stood up and stretched, joints popping audibly. “Thank you, Doctor. For everything.”
“Anytime, Your Highness,” he replied with a modest wave. “I send you another letter if anything happens.”
“I look forwards to it. Good night, Doctor.” I left the room and made my down the corridor. Within moments, I was breathing in the crisp, night air, stars twinkling above me, the gentle light of the moon flooding the street.
A cold wind blew through the street, ruffling my feathers and tugging at my mane. There was a thump as something hit the ground besides me.
Turning my head, I saw a small, black journal, with a familiar, silver crescent adorning the cover.
I picked it up with my magic and held it before me, flicking through its pages—those that remained, that is, as most appeared to have been torn out. From what I could gather, it appeared to be Luna’s personal diary, although why it was here and in such poor condition I didn’t know.
I turned to the first page and began to read.
31st of Nightober, 1001 New Solar Era
Dearest diary,
I have chosen to keep a diary of sorts; for several reasons. This is the first entry, as you can probably tell.
Tonight was a most wonderful night. It began when I discovered the quaint, modern celebration of Nightmare Night. At first, I was incensed, as it appeared to be a celebration of Nightmare Moon, but the truth of it is that it originated as a wake in remembrance of my passing. The meaning got twisted over time, as stories are wont to do, but the festive nature remained, and I became eager to interact with my subjects in an informal setting.
Oh how my little ponies have changed during my absence.
The night was very nearly a disaster, had it not been for the determined efforts of one very special pony.
Twilight Sparkle. My sister's student, and the pony who saved me from myself. Twice now, she has helped me.
And that brings me to my second point. I can not fight this battle alone. Twilight has proven herself to be strong, smart and capable on numerous occasions. If something would happen to me, I feel that she can carry on for me. As such, I have enchanted this journal so that should something happen to me, it will appear intact and unharmed before you, Twilight Sparkle.
I imagine you're asking what I am talking about. Although, if you are reading this, it is possible you know something already. At the very least, a strange force has incapacitated me.
It is the work of the Old Ones. Mighty beings who have existed before Time itself, and will last long after the heat death of the universe.
These beings are cruel and malicious, uncaring of nought but their own power. To them, Ponykind is little more than ants scurrying in the dirt.
A long time ago, they were sealed away, beneath the oceans, the stars providing the lock to their prisons. They also provided the key.
The constellations are like a combination lock, one that keeps these old ones sealed away. But the stars have spent the last 1000 years stagnant and unmoving. My sister, unknowing of their importance, kept them the same as a tribute to my memory.
And the Old Ones will have surely noticed by now. They will be working to undermine solve the riddle of the constellations, and with my powers not fully restored, there is little I can do to stop them.
I have heard rumors, stirrings from the town of Arkham. I am unsurprised—that land has always been tainted by dark magic. It is where I Fell, and became Nightmare Moon after all.
I can’t help but wonder if that was all part of the Old One’s plans.
A jagged rip at the end off the page ended the passage. I turned the page back and forth, but no matter how hard I looked, it was still the only page present.
“The Old Ones...” I whispered to myself. I had never heard of them, and apparently neither had Celestia. The journal also mentioned Arkham—just as Rarity had. My confused frown became one of determination. I now had a foe, a location and a goal to achieve. Tomorrow, I would set off for the town of Arkham.
The ringing of a clock tower brought me back to the present, reminding me that I had a train to catch.
Whereas my previous walk had energised and bolstered my spirit, this one seemed to sap it. The harsh echoes of my hooves against the street reverberated around me, fooling my senses into thinking I was being followed. A cold wind blew down my withers, and the dark shadows lurked menacingly.
Before long, but not soon enough, I reached the train station, just in time to catch the last train back to Ponyville.
I climbed into the deserted, brightly lit carriage and took a seat by a window as the train pulled out of the station.
I felt unnerved, sat by myself under the near clinical light. Train carriages were supposed to be full of life and energy from their passengers, and the bright light only served to enhance the isolation I felt.
I jumped at a noise behind me, but it was only a stray tin can rolling on the floor. Chuckling at myself, I turned back round, only to jump backwards once more; a gaunt face was staring at me through the window, eyes bloodshot and puffy—a truly demonic appearance.
I laughed again as I realised it was only my reflection within the glass, but my laughter was quickly swallowed up by the empty carriage.
Settling back into my seat, I prepared for the long and nerve wracking journey home, thoughts of Old Ones and madness swirling around my head.
I stepped onto the station at Ponyville, my nerves thoroughly shaken by the countless horrors my imagination had subjected me to.
I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself, but immediately choked on smoke, the scent of burning overwhelming everything.
Concerned, I glanced about. Fires could be dangerous in a small town like Ponyville.
Quickly, I saw a plume of smoke highlighted by a green light, originating from the...
The library! I galloped down the road, the scent of fire growing stronger in my nostrils.
Rounding the last corner, I saw a sight I will never forget.
The library was engulfed in green flames, consuming everything, actively fighting the attempts of the few ponies trying to fight it.
The unusual colour and the way it moved almost made it look alive. I stared in horror at it, until demonic faces began to appear in the flames; grinning and laughing, mocking and taunting me.
"Spike!" I screamed, rushing forwards, but before I could reach the flames something knocked me down.
"It's too late, Twilight," Applejack cried, an odd waver in her voice, from on top of me. "He's already gone. Those bastards took him. The Elements are gone too."
I looked up at her, uncomprehending her words. "Gone?"
"Bunch of black cloaked bastards," she said, looking down at me, eyes filled with tears. "They stole the Elements and set fire to your home. Spike tried to stop them."
Luna. Rarity. Spike. The Elements. All gone.
I looked once more at my home, the green flames consuming it before my eyes, before exhaustion caught up with me and I fell into a deep, dark sleep.
Author's Note
It begins...
