The stinging, cold mist bit at my hooves and nibbled the tips of my ears. After a while, I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd found actual frost growing on my fur. Trixie and I agreed to stay close to one another, for both our sakes. Not that we had much of a choice, having to tread the narrow streets of Horsmouth, already filling up with countless sick townsfolk.
I found solace in the fact that, at the very least, the disguise spell appeared to work. Nopony gave us strange looks, and there was a distinct lack of the kicking and biting Trixie had been so afraid of. On the downside, telling my companion apart from the rest of the ponies was hard enough on its own; the complete lack of street lighting didn't help one bit. While the skies were clear, and the Moon shone bright, very little of its light actually made it through the mist. My navigation was limited to mostly sound, following the lavender horde pouring onto the streets.
As much as I loved my friends back at home, I was used to working alone, and wouldn't have had it any other way before. I hated to admit it, but out there now, knowing that a helpful hoof was nearby was rather reassuring.
Such was our trek through distant Horsmouth.
Getting out of town was an adventure in itself, but it wasn't long after the plank roads ran out from under my hooves that I began to miss them. Walking along the bare mountainside paths, with a crowd of hundreds pushing from all sides, was outright dangerous. I was amazed by the surprising agility the Horsmouth folk displayed; for all their seeming clumsiness, they were able to keep a steady pace even under these conditions, and I don't recall seeing—or hearing—a single one tumble or fall. Fortunately, neither did Trixie or I.
We reached the mouth of the waterfall cave in a few minutes. The rumbling sound of cascading water drowned out the groans and coughs of the crowd. I wondered, at first, how a pony would even go about entering the cave—what with the river pushing against you—but, following the purple procession, I found that there was a relatively clear path running along the inner wall. The water rushed in a deeper canal, carved into the rock through the centuries. This allowed us to enter the cave, walking on an upper path in relative safety.
The ponies thronged inside, and Trixie and I went with the flow.
For the better half of a minute, everything was in total darkness. I could only follow the echoes of the many hooves walking along. After a while, however, glint of light entered my eyes. Coming around a corner, I beheld a sight equally enchanting and frightening. We were apparently inside an enormous tunnel, and the walls—every surface—glowed in a strange, purplish light. A thin layer of an odd, creamy substance filmed everything from the floor to the ceiling, exuding this mysterious luminescence, as well as an odd warmth.
I quickly threw my head up to look for Trixie; luckily, I soon found her doing the same, not far behind myself. I slowed down a little, butting my way to her side through the crowd. I didn't speak—neither did she—but the look on her face told an obvious tale: she was as puzzled as I was.
Our way seemed to lead deep into the mountain. The wide tunnel we found soon split up into an intricate network of smaller tunnels, as did the river itself break up and change course beside us. Several small streams ran in many tunnels of varying sizes. Some were crevices too tight for a pony to fit through, others branched into wide open spaces and back into narrower tunnels again. All throughout, the purplish glow remained. The crowd of ponies split up as well; some groups went one way while others chose another, but after a while, they always joined together again. Trixie and I continued side by side.
Although we could not slow down too much due to the pushing tide of other ponies, the long, twisting journey into the depths did give me an opportunity to inspect the strange substance that covered everything. I noticed how I felt my hooves stick to the ground, and how I needed to exert a tiny bit of extra strength to pull them up before each step I took.
Looking at the substance closely was like peeking into a microscope. Small, shapeless blobs, each barely visible, moved and swam around within, giving the material a distinct organic feeling. The glow it gave off was also constantly shifting, fading out at one tiny spot only to strengthen in another before changing again. I lifted a hoof and carefully sniffed it, finding that the substance gave off a strong smell unlike anything I've felt before, causing a burning sensation in my nostrils. Perhaps the taste-test can wait.
Although at first I was glad for the strange illumination, after a while it all became borderline nauseating.
After a lengthy trek, we reached what seemed to be the crowd's destination for the night. The tunnel led into a chamber large enough to comfortably house the entirety of Horsmouth's population plus two. Although seemingly natural in origin, it was clearly a place of great renown for these ponies. Or, perhaps, a place of worship.
From the centre of the ceiling, a stream of water cascaded through a crack into a large pool which took up much of the room. The pond's water was visibly tinted dark-purple and seemed to glow in a strange hue that was somehow both dark and bright at the same time. Its depth was impossible to tell at a glance, yet an indescribable feeling at the back of my head told me it led into the very bowels of the earth.
I dismissed that shiver down my spine as the effect of upset nerves.
At two opposite ends of the room, vast staircases had been cut into the stone. They ascended along the curved walls, coming together in the middle to form a balcony overlooking the pond—and all the ponies now around it—high up at the far end.
Indeed, the room strongly reminded me of descriptions of ancient pagan temples which I had read of in my books. Before there ever was an Equestria, before there were the Two Sisters, and before the time of the Three Tribes, there was only fear. When the stars were right—or outright wrong—our primitive ancestors would gather in such forsaken places to placate demons and appease gods in hopes of a brighter tomorrow.
The layer of the unnameable substance was much thicker within, so much that it noticeably impeded my ability to walk. Its light, in turn, was also much stronger, creating an almost daytime brightness within, if the Sun glowed lavender.
Sprouting from the wall above the balcony, I saw an image of the thing for whom this blasphemous sanctuary had been created; a stone statue providing an appropriate reflection of the legends which ponies dared only whisper.
Metal plating was nailed onto its hooves, so that its touch might be even colder. Its chest was covered with jagged armour, so that its embrace might be even harsher. Its wings were spread wide, so that its shadow might reach even further. A helmet covered its head, so that it might never die.
That depiction of Nightmare Moon stared into me, baring its rock-fangs as though it were ready to tear into my soul.
But Nightmare Moon did die, I reassured myself. We ended her.
Trixie and I exchanged a look. We both knew what the presence of this statue meant. This was a place of gathering for that forbidden cult which Princess Luna had been attempting to finally weed out ever since her return. They called themselves the Children of the Night, and strived to wake up the princess' inner demon, hoping that she might still bring about eternal night. Insane, all of them; yet this conviction of mine meant little now.
What happened in Horsmouth? There were too many questions. Trixie and I would need to see this through.
The townsfolk gathered around the pool, and I thought for a moment that I saw a hint of anticipation in their normally vacant eyes. Their quiet groans and grumblings filled the room.
After a while, however, a new sound entered my ears. It was only then that I noticed: another passageway apparently had its opening just below the statue of Nightmare Moon, leading directly onto the high balcony. From there, I heard what I thought to be irregular murmuring at first, but it soon became apparent that it was something very orderly. It was chanting.
The words I couldn't understand. In fact, I couldn't even place the language in which the slow song was being performed. Yet the melody and tune were enough for me to tell: it was a song of horrors. And as its echoes strengthened, so faded the noise of the ponies at the pool.
Soon, a small procession of a dozen or so unicorns appeared on top of the balcony, clad in long black robes, their faces hidden by pulled-down hoods. They took their place beside one another at the edge of the balcony, looking down at all of us. The crowd below had gone completely silent by this point, and they listened eagerly to the unholy psalms of the cultists.
After a short while, a new unicorn showed up on the balcony. Yet this one was different from the rest, for she wore no hood, and her robe was gilded by what I took to be shining silver. She, too, displayed the classic "Horsmouth look:" her coat and mane were a dark shade of violet, and her eyes were uniformly dark. The other unicorns made space for her, and she took her place at the centre of the congregation. The chanting at once died down, and there fell a silence only disturbed by the rippling water.
Well, I pondered, it seems we have found that powerful unicorn I suspected to be around.
"Hear me, my brothers!" the mare spoke out.
Her voice was cracked, in line with the familiar symptoms of the town's mysterious disease. Yet her tone—and indeed, ability to form coherent words—set her apart from all the rest.
A near-deafening eruption of applause startled me; every male citizen of Horsmouth, it seemed, cheered for her in their own coughing, croaking voice.
"And hear me, my sisters!" the unicorn spoke again.
The mares, now, applauded.
"I am Priestess Nichts," she introduced herself, "and it is my honour to perform the holy rites. But know that I do this not as your greater, but as another humble servant of the one Mother. For we are all, in the end, only children of the night."
More applause. Looking at the townsfolk, and remembering my own arrival, I couldn't help but think that this was a programmed response to any word being spoken on a stage before them.
"Do you believe in Her return?" Nichts asked.
"Yes!" the entire crowd unanimously replied. "Praise the Mother! Praise her beast!"
Their words were robotic, yet somehow intimidating. The combined sound of hundreds of ponies shouting together resonated throughout the entire network of caves. And just what is this "beast" they're referring to? When the echoes died down, the priestess continued.
"Prophet Nie may not be with us tonight, for he has left for great Cloudsdale. Yet we must continue without him, to show our undying belief in the teachings which have survived a millennium!"
"Praise the Mother! Praise her beast!"
"Indeed, what a time this is to be alive! She is closer to us now than ever before in a thousand years. So gorge yourselves! Gorge yourselves on Her beast's miraculous secretion!"
Movement at once started among the townsfolk around us. Their goal was the pool; some of them swam in deep and submerged entirely while others only stood on the shore and began lapping the tainted water.
Trixie and I exchanged questioning looks. Looking up at the unicorns, I decided that it was best we play along. Neither of us was insane enough to actually drink the foul-smelling water, but we stepped forward, regardless, and bowed our heads as close to the surface as we thought was safe.
I kept my eyes on the ponies around us. The ones deeper in came up to the surface and spewed the water from their mouth, like foals playing at the beach, before submerging again. Some ponies thrashed about at shallower parts, rolling in the water and devouring mouthfuls with every roll. Few were the ones who stood at the shore, and even they seemed to get violently into the act over time, splashing and spitting as they whipped their head up and down. I kept my lips sealed tight.
When they seemed done, Trixie and I stepped away from the water quickly, letting the rest come out. I remember covering my mouth and nose discretely as they shook their coats and manes dry, unwilling to let a single drop of the stuff into my body. What did she call it, secretion of a beast? Is there—could there be—something living in these caves, excreting this purple poison?
"Drink deep," Nichts spoke out once more, "and indulge Her gift of clarity! Can you see it, the end, Her return?"
"We have no fear!"
"Then it is time for the higher race to prove its devotion as well!"
Nichts lifted her robe slightly, revealing a ceremonial knife hoisted on her side. A red glow enveloped its handle and it flew into the air. She held her left hoof out above the water, and the knife came down swiftly on the underside of her fetlock. As the serrated blade punctured her sick skin, her mouth formed a smile. As the knife cut deeper into her flesh, she grinned ear to ear, looking at the wound with joyful, twitching eyes. She pulled the blade away and blood spurted, raining into the pool below.
The knife was then passed to another unicorn, who repeated her actions, cutting his own purple leg. The rest, too, cut themselves one by one, and Nichts finally put the blade away.
"We offer our blood to Her beast!" she yelled. "So do we subject ourselves to its will!"
As she finished, her injured hoof began glowing red, as did those of the other unicorns. They retracted their legs.
A pity. It appears they aren't "devoted" enough to actually bleed themselves to death.
Yet more curious than what they did was the effect it had on the water. As the final drops of blood reached the pool, the water became restless and a strange ebullition began within. Small waves formed spontaneously and the water lashed about.
"The beast has been roused," Nichts announced, much to the crowd's joy, "and 'tis time for us to claim our just reward. The true feast will then take place."
With that, the priestess turned around and left for the tunnel behind her. The other unicorns stayed on the balcony and kept watch over the rest of us. All along, the water was becoming increasingly restless. The townsfolk were mumbling unintelligibly to themselves. Trixie poked my side.
"So what do we do then?" she whispered, keeping her head down.
"All we can do now is wait," I answered.
"I think those up there are all the unicorns they had in Horsmouth. We take them out, this ends right now."
"And we're going to do just that," I calmed her. "But listen. There might be more of them."
"There might not be."
"These caves are huge, Trixie. You've seen all those tunnels. We have no idea just what we're up against yet. The whole cult could be hiding down here somewhere, for all we know. And that beast they keep referring to? It could be anything."
"All the more reason to blow this all to Tartarus. Bring the caves down. It'd only take a few blasts here and there." She looked around. "I'm sure you could conjure up some kinetic projectiles strong enough."
"And murder everyone inside? Look at these ponies." I motioned at the purple mass moving about around us. "They're sick. Victims. How would they get out? How would we get out? I don't suppose you've laid a path of breadcrumbs to follow in case of a cave-in."
"Well I don't know about you, Sparky, but I'm pretty sure I could just teleport out of here."
"And I couldn't. Even if I could, that still leaves the townsfolk to die."
"So that's your plan then? Just sit on our rumps and wait?"
"For now, yes."
"I really don't think there's any more of them," Trixie insisted. "This looks like their biggest ceremony. The priestess went out of her to mention that Nee guy not being here."
"Nie," I corrected. "It's Germane for never."
"You speak Germane?"
"You don't?"
"I mostly get by creating magical images. That and body language."
"Well, my father Night Light was actually born Nachtlicht. Go figure."
Before our conversation could have gone more off-topic, we saw Nichts return. Beside her, a long iron chain floated in red light, extending behind her far enough that I couldn't see the other end.
"The plot thickens," I mumbled.
"Is that a catchphrase?"
"Why? Does the Great and Powerful Trixie think it's dumb?"
Nichts straightened her back and, clearing her throat, lifted her right hoof to silence the townsfolk. With the background noise gone, Trixie and I stopped speaking as well. In the relative silence, my attention was once again directed towards the splashing water, now surging exceedingly.
If there truly is a beast living in this pool, it seems we are about to meet it.
"The beast has awakened!" Nichts announced to a round of applause. "For your love, and our blood, it shall grant us Mother's strength!"
The townsfolk stomped at the ground excitedly and the whole chamber shook with the rumbling.
It was then that something emerged from the water. Like a pillar of purple goo, thicker than my torso, the thing extended high up. It had no discernible body parts. There was only this long, twitching thing stretching up to the balcony. Countless pores gaped loathsomely on its semi-translucent surface, making wet, snapping sounds as they excreted the same kind of glowing substance we had seen everywhere. And the eyes! Dear Celestia, the eyes. They formed and disappeared randomly, looking out with that unblinking, bulging gaze that I still can't forget.
Soon, another of these horrid tentacles—for lack of a better word—emerged from the water, and then even more. Some were thick and others were thin, and some alternated between the two states. Their stench was almost unbearable. The more I looked at the horrible mass of gaping holes and eyes and mouths, the more my mind protested. This shouldn't be possible. This shouldn't... be.
I heard Trixie let out an audible gasp. I turned to her; she was looking at the tentacles, shifting her gaze from one to the other in disbelief. It looked like she recognised the thing.
"Trixie?" I whispered. "What is that?"
"It's..." she began, but her voice cracked. She didn't even look at me. "It's a... no...."
The first tentacle made a sudden movement, coiling towards Nichts, and I thought I saw it make a grab for the floating chain. Nichts shoved the thing away with a determined motion, and instead stretched her own neck out, opening her mouth like a bird's nestling expecting food from its mother.
The thing understood her sign, as it seemed, and it quickly thrust itself down Nichts' throat. The feeler convulsed and the priestess gagged, and I saw movement within the almost-transparent length of the tentacle. When the beast was done, the tentacle pulled back and let Nichts go; she fell forward and nearly collapsed, heaving and coughing. Gasping for air heavily, she wiped her mouth. The other unicorns then opened their mouths as well, and were fed by the many tentacles in return. I could barely stand to look.
But the beast was getting violent, and the many feelers lashed out dangerously close to Nichts.
"Enough!" she roared. "As priestess of the Mother, I command you to stay back!"
Then she yanked the chain powerfully, pulling into view what was on its other end. Or rather, who, for it was a foal, dangerously thin yet seemingly untainted by the Horsmouth plague. Her coat was red and her overgrown mane was green, and her eyes were crystal clear. The poor filly could hardly stand on her hooves.
Trixie's mouth hung agape and I saw utter terror in her eyes. My own heart began racing and I had to clench my teeth to stop myself from calling out to the filly and her captor. For what we had just witnessed was not the "feast" that Nichts had mentioned. I understood, then, that the feast would not be for her, but for the beast.
Trixie turned to me with a defiant gaze. I shook my head slowly in response. She looked disgusted. I'd have been as well. But I couldn't let feelings cloud my judgement. We can't intervene. We mustn't. Not yet.
"For your gifts, we offer this sacrifice of the purest blood, now as ever!" Nichts declared.
If we step in, what then? Are there more foals deeper inside? And cultists? What of the beast?
The foal couldn't resist the pulls on her chain. She tried to flee but couldn't escape the relentless yanking as distance between her and the edge of the balcony lessened.
"Mum?" the filly asked, looking at Nichts. "Mummy! Stop it, please!"
But Nichts didn't look at her. She was looking at the mass of tentacles dancing in the pool, awaiting their horrific meal. Hearing the high-pitched cries of the filly ground my nerves. Am I to let a filly die? The task at hoof must always come first. Doesn't it?
I tried dismissing my doubts; that's what I do best, after all.
As the dark-red glow of Nichts' magic enveloped the filly, I was shaking head to hoof in impotent anger. I can't. But I should. And I mustn't.
And then it was too late. The filly was lifted from the balcony, and in a second, she was sent flying towards the depths of the pool and the horror awaiting her there.
Then a blinding light flashed beside me. A blurred blue figure appeared in the air above the pool. Another flash, and Trixie was standing among all the unicorns on the balcony, the little red foal in her hoof.
The disoriented Nichts wasn't given the time to question what happened, for a quick kick from Trixie sent her tripping over the balcony's edge. A tentacle then lashed out, forming a mouth at its tip and swallowing her whole. All the while, the other tentacles seemed very interested in the balcony, grasping upwards, trying to grab the filly.
It didn't take long for the thing to spit Nichts out—it was clearly unimpressed by the taste—and she landed not far from me, crashing into a few other ponies who didn't even try to get out of the way. When they got back up, all they did was take a few steps aside. Nichts, I saw, was covered in a rancid, purple gunk. And she wasn't moving any more.
"Citizens of Horsmouth!" came the voice of Trixie from above as the other unicorns encircled her. "Leave! Go home right now!"
That got their attention; the obedient mass turned around and started for the tunnel from which we came. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my own teleporting spell. In an instant, my body felt to both burn up and freeze over, signalling my arrival upon the balcony. Then I felt a new, unfamiliar sensation, one I've never experienced whilst teleporting: a strange, tingling rush down my spine. This must have been, I gathered, the disguise spell fading, as it had faded from Trixie. I opened my eyes and looked at all the furious unicorns before me.
"Need a hoof?" I asked Trixie.
She nodded, pushing the frightened filly behind the two of us. "Certainly."
The stage was set: two of Luna's best against the crazed cultist congregation of Horsmouth. Behind us, there was a filly and tunnel leading into the depths; before us, a dozen or so unicorns stood, ready to battle. And behind them, down in the pit, many tentacles wiggled, demanding their meal.
For the next minute, there was chaos. Spells were flung, the cave was blasted, blood was spilled, and the beast below took its fair share of unicorn meat. The thing didn't seem particularly interested in Trixie or myself. If anything, it had been angry at the cultists. After it devoured them—and shortly getting rid of them, as it did with Nichts—it had its many eyes set on the little filly.
Presently, with the cultists gone, I was doing my best to keep the encroaching tentacles at bay as Trixie attempted to coax information out of the shocked foal. I saw the filly looking my way, and at the many feelers reaching onto the balcony. Trixie reached for the filly's head, holding her cheeks firmly and leaning in close.
"Look at me," Trixie whispered. "What's your name?"
"B-Blossy," the foal stammered.
I sent a missile at a coming tentacle. The tip came clean off, falling onto the balcony. It slowly melted into the familiar purple goo before rolling back into the pit, drop by drop.
"Blossy?" I heard Trixie ask. "That's short for Blossom, isn't it? That's a beautiful name. Suits a brave girl. You're a brave little filly, aren't you?"
I heard no response from the girl, but I imagined she nodded. I, in the meantime, threw another bunch of feelers and eyes back into the pool. Before, I felt that the monster was playing with us. Now I thought it was getting angry. Or perhaps just hungry, in which case I definitely didn't want to see angry.
"My name is Lulamoon," Trixie said. "My friend and I are here to help."
"What happened to mummy?" the filly asked.
A tentacle lashed out, thickening mid-air as it came down. I jumped away and it slammed into the balcony, breaking off a sizeable chunk of the rock. Damn it, Trixie, you'd better hurry. I can't keep this up forever.
"Mummy is fine," Trixie said. "Please, tell me, Blossy, are there any more foals? Anypony at all?"
"Yes," she replied in a waning voice. "Back t-there."
"Can you show us?"
It was then that the beast finally lost its temper. There was a sound, like a lion's roar or a screeching train—impossible to describe—that resonated throughout the chamber. A large mound of purplish goo, ten or fifteen times my own size, shot up from the water and stuck onto the ceiling. It was a horrid mass of mouths and pseudopods, with tentacles soon sprouting and eyes swimming about on its surface. It never had one defined shape, jittering constantly. As water dripped from its gelatinous body, an acrid stench filled the room.
I blasted at it with a spell, but all I achieved was producing a sound similar to jelly being punched.
"Alright!" I turned to Trixie and Blossom. "I think it's high time we start running."
"Come on," Trixie said as she picked Blossom up and threw her onto her back. "Show the way. Sparky?" She turned to me. "You slow the thing down."
"Easier said than d—"
Trixie was already darting away, deeper into the tunnel from which the cultists originally arrived. After taking a quick look at the thing creeping along the ceiling, I dashed after them.
"Trixie!" I shouted for her. "You know what that thing is?"
"Think I do!" she yelled back. "Didn't think it's real!"
A turn here, a turn there; Blossom remembered the way surprisingly well. Splashing about in the goo that still covered everything, we passed many small rooms, each lit by serene candlelight. During the quick peeks I could take while running past them, I saw books, scrolls, small statuettes depicting strange demons, and many other things one would expect from such a conglomeration.
I kept blasting away at the monster chasing us. It moved with surprising speed, its waving mass flowing across the tunnels and rumbling like a coming tide. I used all the conventional methods I could think of, from sending projectiles at it, to attempting to pick it up and simply throwing it back. Magical missiles appeared to simply pass through the rolling mass with little effect, however, and the beast proved too heavy to lift outright. It seemed that nothing short of a cave-in could stop the thing. And even then it could probably just pour through the cracks and reassemble itself.
"How do we kill it?" I asked Trixie.
"We don't," she replied.
"In there!" Blossom pointed at an opening not far down the tunnel.
Trixie and she were first to rush inside while I did my best to halt the beast's advance. I quickly leapt into the room and tore a chunk of stone from the tunnel's opposite wall, slamming it onto the room's opening. The monster was thus stuck outside, for the moment, and we were trapped within. I panted heavily, trying to catch my breath. I felt ready to collapse.
When I looked up, I was overcome by a different kind of horror. Staring back at me were countless eyes, not from a shapeless demon but from many little foals. They were locked in rusty, dirty iron cages, all sickly thin and malnourished. Their teeth chattered and they sniffled fearfully as they looked at the new arrivals. Some of them might not have been breathing.
I forgot my own exhaustion.
A thunderous sound shook the room. The monster outside was bashing at the rock which divided it from us.
"Well, Trixie," I began, "I believe some explanation is in order. What is that thing outside?"
"I don't know," Trixie replied. "Not really. It's a... a thing."
I nodded. "Intriguing."
"I've read about them," she continued hastily, trying to find the right words. "But very few sources even mention them. Luna said they didn't exist when I asked. Supposedly they're Nightmare Moon's creatures. They—"
The beast banged on the rocks again. I saw a crack form in the rock.
"They spawned from her star-mane, I've read," Trixie said. "Tale has it, they're what nightmares are made of."
"Oh, so that's what it is, a nightmare," I said. "Very helpful, Trixie. So what do we do? Wake up?"
"Oh, you're so clever!" Trixie stepped closer furiously. "Yes! That's exactly what we do. Come here, let me bite you."
The room shook. Trixie stepped back and took a deep breath.
"The Elements of Harmony," she said. "When Celestia used them, when Nightmare Moon was banished, the things disappeared. So the legend says."
"That doesn't really help us right now," I responded.
"No." She hung her head. "It doesn't."
The room kept shaking. I heard a cracking sound. Trixie looked back at the foals. Blossom trembled.
"Listen," Trixie called for me. "I think I can get them out of here. It's a long way, but I should be able to teleport them all outside."
"That's insane," I responded. "I know you're good, but not that good. You don't even know where we are. You might materialise inside a wall! It might kill y—"
"Shut up, Twilight!" she cut in. "It's not like I have to jump the whole distance at once. I can hop around, find the right way. Still faster than running."
Trixie heaved heavily, looking into my eyes with unprecedented determination. The banging at the door intensified.
"And hey." She straightened her back and grinned cheekily. "Up is always the right direction."
I stared at her for a while, contemplating our options. I didn't like the sound of her idea, not the tiniest bit.
"What would you have me do?" I finally asked.
"You go outside and distract the thing. I don't care how you do it. But you need to get me a few minutes. I can't do them all at once." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I'll come back. That thing isn't getting out of here alive. Trust me, Sparky."
"We can't kill it. You've said it yours—"
"Trust me, Sparky."
"I hope you know what you're doing."
Closing my eyes, I cast a spell to teleport to the other side of the wall, and come face to metaphorical face with the beast.
There I stood, out in the tunnel again, with that abomination before me. Yet, to my surprise, while it fixed its many eyes on me and followed my every move, it didn't actually seem to care much for me. It was, clearly, still fixated on the kid, and so it kept smashing itself against the stone.
"Hey!" I called out to it.
No response.
I channelled a spell and fired; the missile splashed into the monster, digging a path for itself as it shot through the pulpous mass. The wound soon closed, and the thing didn't react. It was getting dangerously close to breaking through. I saw it stick a small feeler or two into the cracks it's already created, trying to tear the rock apart. I had to think fast. And then it hit me. For what was the difference between me and the cultists that it so eagerly attacked? There was only one obvious answer.
I wrapped my aura around a tuft of fur on my right leg and, clenching my teeth, pulled. I'd be lying if I said it was a pleasant experience. The hairs soon ripped loose and I cast them aside. And then, refusing to give myself the opportunity to change my mind, I bit down on the newly-naked skin, and nibbled well. Reminding myself of what I had seen on the other side of the wall, I realised the pain was worth it.
When I was done, I limped stalwartly to that overgrown amoeba, and punched it straight in an eye. The eye fell apart and dissolved, letting me press my hoof deeper inside. I could feel the thing strengthen its grip on me, and its purple-opaque body immediately began sucking the fresh blood from my wound. I wasn't sure as to how long I should let it have at me; when I felt the first tug of the thing dragging me closer, I took that as a sign to pull out.
I jumped quickly away from the beast, wiping my leg clean of goo. The beast was no longer lashing at the stone, but instead stood still as it reformed its damaged eye. I took a few more steps back.
"Come on!" I yelled.
And so the chase began; the sleep-deprived, three-legged unicorn raced the formless glutton of a similar colour directionlessly into the depths of the glowing caves. Yet more profound than the fantastic events that occurred down there is what I remember of it. The eldritch monstrosity steadily closing in on me? Not much in the way of specific memory there. In fact, I'm actively trying my best to forget as much about it as I can even today.
Indeed, my mind always finds a way to wander off even in spite of the worst conditions. Or, perhaps, exactly because of them. I do remember wondering about what else the cultists could have been doing in there, and what for. Most of the tunnels seemed untouched and natural in origin, with very few places seemingly used by the cultists for anything. I felt that tingling feeling at the back of my mind, that childlike curiosity, begging to find out more.
Right then, as I turned a corner and momentarily lost sight of the monster behind me, as if on cue, the ground collapsed beneath me. I fell into a different chamber, a small room; above, an appropriately pony-sized hole gaped. I saw the beast dart past without noticing the hole, chasing a mare that was no longer there. Some of its material drooped down as it passed by, illuminating the dark room.
What in Tartarus, I figured, I've already stuck my hoof in it once.
I picked up the gelatinous blob and used it to light my way. Lifting the droplet, I discovered that I wasn't only in one of the rarer, cultist-used rooms, but in fact I found myself in what seemed to be Nichts' private study. There was a shelf full of scrolls and parchments, and a small desk with ink and a feather, along with two books; one open, one closed.
Perhaps Trixie was correct, I concluded. Serendipity does love us after all.
I looked at the open one first, placing the blob beside it. It was, from a quick skim, an account of the origins and purpose of the "Children of the Night," written by some "Prophet Nie." The same Nie, I suspected, that Nichts mentioned in the pool room higher up. As much as I wished to read the leather-bound book cover to cover, I knew it wouldn't be long until the monster figured out that it was chasing nothing.
Yet it wouldn't have been me if I hadn't at least taken a peek. I directed my attention at the open pages, which conveniently spoke about the "Beast of the one Mother." Nichts had been reading this, no doubt, in preparation for the the night's mass. It was time to put my speed reading skills to the test.
I skipped a detailed tale of the creatures' origins in favour of looking for simple keywords. "Battle in the Sky," "the false mother," "the true Mother," "nightmares given form;" a retelling of Celestia's battle against her own sister, and her ultimate use of the elements, presented from Nightmare Moon's point of view. There were few kind words about the Princess of the Sun.
Skipping forward a few pages, I caught an interesting snippet. The prophet, apparently, attributed the creation of not only these monsters, but of many others, to Nightmare Moon. Vampires, werewolves, and many more things that haunt the night were traced back to the Mare in the Moon.
The book yielded no relevant information, however. Seeing how I didn't have the Elements of Harmony on hoof, it appeared there would be no way to kill the monster. Perhaps this other tome will shed some light on the subject.
I picked up and opened the other volume. It was much lighter and smaller then the other tome, and labelled simply and clearly, "The Diary of Priestess Nichts." This was, at first glance, a hoof-written piece about and by the priestess herself. Yet when I hit up the first page, I found that there was something else written there; the name of one "Bloomingshine," the mayor of Horsmouth. For several pages, it read just like one would expect it would, of gossip, raising a foal, and the hardships of juggling the responsibilities of a single mother and a mayor. I flipped forward quickly to find talk of visions and nightmares, lack of sleep, and a general feeling of sickness all throughout the past few months. Finally, there was a mention of a visit from a pegasus noble, Monsoon Descent. The stallion came down all the way from Cloudsdale to talk with the mayor. His visit was dated some three weeks before my arrival.
Several pages were then left blank. Turning them, I read the first words of the next filled page: "A new beginning."
That it was indeed; Bloomingshine was never referenced again, being replaced by Priestess Nichts. Monsoon Descent himself turned out to be none other than the mysterious Prophet Nie. He brought with himself a lock of hair, claiming it to be from the "Dark Alicorn herself." They used a single hair from the batch to create this monster, and then they used the monster to poison the waters of Horsmouth. The onset was quick enough, and soon the "lesser races" were subjected to the will of Nichts. Nie, of course, wisely avoided drinking from the water.
The unicorns of Horsmouth found their magical abilities soaring to unprecedented heights, and soon became addicted to the beast's excretion, subjecting willingly to the cult.
But the thing demanded blood in return, and that of Nichts and her unicorns would not sate it for long. It hungered for the blood of children.
I'd read enough. What few gaps remained in this tale, I could easily fill on my own. I realised, too, that the thing chasing me wasn't one of the ancient beasts—if they ever existed at all—but some imperfect copy, made by a lowly unicorn and an insane pegasus, and lacking the Mother's touch. It needed to have a weakness. But what?
I made my way out of the room. The tunnel outside was much darker than any other, for the substance filming the walls was only a thin layer. I suspected that the material was what the monster left behind as it travelled. If that theory was true, then it made sense that the great priestess wouldn't let it roam about her office too often.
The Mother's priestess or not, that pesky survival instinct is always present.
I stood still and held my breath for a moment, listening for the noise of the beast travelling about. What reached my ear was a different, unfamiliar sound. It sounded as if it were coming from the wall. Thus, I walked up to the tunnel's side and pressed my ear to it. Is that... water?
I concluded, pulling my head back, that there was only a thin wall dividing me from the ocean beyond. I was deeper than I had imagined. Then, as I pondered this little titbit of trivia, came the sound I had expected to hear: that of the wobbling mass rolling towards me. Clearly, this time, going towards the light would have been the worse decision.
So I turned and began running again. I knew I couldn't keep it up for much longer, but what choice did I have? I ran and ran, all until I could run no farther. Not because my legs failed me, mind, as close as they were to it. No, the reason was much simpler: for the first time, I had reached a dead end. With the beast coming fast toward me, this seemed to be the end indeed.
Or perhaps I could teleport around it and begin running uphill. That'd get me a few more minutes. Maybe.
It was then, when I was cornered, sweating head to hoof and drawing increasingly heavy breaths, that the one-mare cavalry arrived in a flash of light.
"Evening," Trixie said, eyeing the monster up and down.
She was in no better condition than me, also gasping for air and barely standing on shaking legs. And, perhaps, there was a little crack at the tip of her horn. It was hard to see.
"Say," she began in forced voice, "I leave you for five minutes..." She took a deep breath. "And you go and get yourself killed. Nice going, Starbutt. At least there was a proper glowing path for me to follow, you know. Oh, and that hole in the floor? Masterful thinking right there." She looked at the monster as it crawled closer. "Too bad it wasn't enough."
"Yeah," I panted, "you go now and show the beast who's boss. Don't take no for an answer."
"Oh, I'm gonna..." She fell on her knees but stood up again quickly. "I'm gonna tear it apart. Bring what's left to Containment in a bag."
"You've been to Containment?" I asked.
"You haven't?" she asked back.
The monster slowed down the closer it got, shifting its eyes between Trixie and me randomly. Whether it was confused, or just savouring the meal, I couldn't tell. And I didn't care.
"Guess we could flee," I said to Trixie. "Teleport, or something."
"Yeah, no," she responded. "You saw what they did. Something is going to die here before anything gets out."
"Any plans?"
"None whatsoever."
"Right. Perfect."
I sniffed, looking at the glowing mass before us.
"So," I said, "this is it then? We die Celestia knows how deep, stuck between a creature of goo and a wet place?"
"I guess so," Trixie sighed. "Wait, what was that?" She looked at me, her eyes brightening up.
"Because the ocean's on the other side of that wall? Get it?" Dearie me. Just kill me already.
"Sparky!" She put a hoof on my shoulder. "What's the ocean full of?"
"Well, water, mostly." I rolled my eyes, pushing her off. "Also fish. Lots of fish."
"Yes." Trixie nodded. "And what else?"
I didn't get it, at first. Then I realised what she meant.
"You're insane, Trixie," I said. "This will never work."
Trixie's pink aura crawled along the ceiling, right above the approaching monster.
"Hope you can still teleport," she said.
I sat in the water by the steep shore, looking at the collapsed mountainside. The ocean water, glowing in the Moon's light, licked my fetlocks gently. I shook my head.
"You blew it up, you maniac. You done did it."
I looked down at my reflection. It appeared that the scar on my cheek had reopened during the exertion; a gentle reminder that, while I may have escaped death once again, I was still mortal. Thanks, ocean. That's very kind of you.
I squinted into the distance. There was no sign of a bulbous monster rising to the surface. So that's nice too.
And then—of course—a flash of light winked behind me. I felt a dump of something gooey splashing against my back, as if somepony had sneezed on me by the truckload. I didn't need to turn around.
"So guess what?" came the voice of Trixie. "Salt is its weakness."
Then I heard the sound of her throwing up. I sighed, stood up, and walked to sit down beside her, evading the floating gunk that spread slowly in the water.
"Well, was, I take it," I said, patting her back.
I looked at my injured leg. At least I didn't get infected. Can't feel it, anyway. On that note...
I bent my leg, submerging the scar in the ocean water. I clenched my teeth to bear the pain.
Better rub some salt in that wound.
"Was there ever any doubt?" Trixie gloated, wiping some purplish goo from her mane. Then she threw up again.
"So, Lulamoon, huh?" I asked.
"Sorry?" she asked back.
"That's what you told Blossom, that your name is Lulamoon."
Trixie bent down and took in a mouthful of water. She looked up, rinsing it in her mouth. By the face she made, she didn't like the taste. She gargled, then spat the water out.
"It used to be," she said, wiping her lips.
"How ominous."
She looked up at the crumbled mountain. "I don't like that name. Reminds me of my childhood."
"So why use it now?"
"Because it reminds me of my childhood. Or something. I don't know. I didn't really think about it." She turned to me. "When I was a kid, they didn't like me practising illusions rather than real and serious magic. No, Lulamoon. That's wrong, Lulamoon. Stop it, Lulamoon. I got sick of hearing that all the time."
She got up with a sigh, and began walking to the shore. I hadn't even noticed just how cold the water was. When I finally did, I was quick to follow her.
"It's kind of sad," she continued. "I thought I was rid of it. But no. All it took was one kid."
"Is that really it? A few bad teachers, and you give up your name?"
"There's more to it than that. You asked me how I joined Night Shift, remember? And I told you that I forgot. I wasn't lying. I really don't know."
"That so?"
"I remember my childhood, you know. I remember finally getting out of magic school. I wanted out of that backwards little town, and I did the moment I could. I remember my first show as Trixie the Great, in Manehatten." She sighed. "You wouldn't believe how many rotten tomatoes a crowd can have on hoof. And then there's nothing. Just this, a big, gaping blankness in my head."
I raised a brow. "Luna?"
"Yes. My next memory is of her. I'm sitting in her room, high in that tower in Canterlot, just a few months after she returned. And I'm asking her, begging her, to remove the last three years of my life. I don't know what happened to me, or how I ended up there. All I know is that I wanted to forget something so badly, so much... I was willing to pledge myself to her. She looks at me, her eyes consume me. And then I wake up in this huge house. Except it's not a house. It's my wagon. And I know: Lulamoon is no more."
"Wow." I needed a moment just to formulate a more complex response. "Don't you ever wonder why?"
"Only all the time," she chortled. "But I always let it go. I trust myself enough for that." A proud smile lingered on her lips.
"But what about your home? Your parents? Do they know?"
Slowly, her smile died. "I never went back. I'm too afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"That they might not remember me."
I slept until noon. The armchair by the fireplace was soft and warm. Quite honestly, I didn't even care for not being able to lie down properly. I awoke to the sound of the door shutting, and I rubbed my eyes clear, standing up to talk to my host. Trixie, although physically beaten up as she was, seemed otherwise fine. Cheerful, even.
"Blossy's alright," she said. "Just still asking about her mum."
I shrugged. "Shame about what happened."What's there to say?
Trixie sighed. "The others are okay, too. Stable, anyway. The townsfolk seem to have regained their sentience as well, with that thing dead. They're tending to the children."
"Still purple, though?" I asked.
"Still purple, though," she replied. "Mostly. Sclera's white again."
"Seen any unicorns?"
"No. Pretty sure they're all dead." Trixie looked away for a moment. "Serves them right," she mumbled.
"Maybe," I responded. "Can't question them now, however."
"What's there to ask? The books down there have all the info Luna could ask for. And then some."
"I don't think the books survived what you did last night."
Trixie grumbled something under her nose. "You can still write a full report based on what you've read."
"True."
I pondered for a bit, about all the things from the previous night, about the legends of Nightmare Moon.
"Yeah," I said, "you leave that report to me. I'll get right on it soon. Not like something like this could go unnoticed for long. Guards will be here long before I can send the letter."
"Suit yourself," Trixie replied.
"You just go and take a few days off. You know Luna's going to give you a new assignment soon."
I walked to the window and looked out. Ponies were rushing about, bringing food and other supplies from one house to another. The grocery shop at the other end of the square had its doors wide open; by the looks of it, the owner was giving everything away. No time for profit-hunting now, eh? That's why I love you ponies.
They must have had a lot of questions to ask. I felt lucky not to be the pony who had to answer them. I sighed deeply.
"Hey, Trixie?"
"Yes?"
"I don't know about you, but I've had well enough of this town. I'll see if I can bribe somepony to take me to Stutencröe."
"Don't think you should bother them with that," Trixie replied. "I'm eager to leave too. Let me give you a ride."
With that, she walked up to the machines in the corner, to pull a few levers and press a few buttons.
"Wait," I said. "You're not going to tell me this thing can move on its own."
"Why?" she asked, slamming one last button theatrically. "Do you think the Great and Powerful Trixie pulls all of this around? Please."
The wagon started up with a sudden jolt, almost making me fall over.
"Better take a seat." She grinned.