Phantom Son Chapter 05 (Early Preview) (Patreon)

Chapter 05: A Rare Mare Part 1

Late sun washed Sweet Apple Acres in warm light. Long shadows from the trees reached across the yard.

Dusk and Ditzy eased the mail cart around by the steps. A wheel bumped a root. The harness jingled. 

Big Macintosh stepped off the porch and set a steady hoof on the shaft so it wouldn't roll. He gave Dusk a quiet nod.

"Thanks," Dusk said, slipping into the traces. The leather sat snug on his shoulders. 

Big Mac checked a buckle and patted it flat. "Eeyup."

Applejack, hat tipped back, watched with a soft smile. Granny Smith rocked in her chair. Apple Bloom bounced on the step with a paper sack.

"Y'all come back anytime, ya hear?" Applejack called.

Ditzy lifted a wing in a wave. "Thanks for the hospitality," she said, tucking the warm bag under the cart's crossbar. "And the fritters."

Granny Smith snorted a laugh. "Ain't no sense lettin' good ponies leave hungry. Take care, y'all."

Apple Bloom leaned over the rail. "You gonna be at the Summer Sun Celebration? We're doin' games and everythin' and I bet you could try the pie eatin' contest and..."

"Hush now, sugarcube," Applejack said, reeling her back by the tail with a rueful grin. "Let 'em get on. They still got work to do."

Apple Bloom giggled and tucked her tail hair under her bow. "Bye, Mister Dusk. Bye, Miss Ditzy. Come back soon, okay?"

Dusk managed a smile. "I will."

Ditzy fussed with a strap. Her eyes drifted, then clicked back together as she tightened it by feel. "Okay." She glanced over. "Ready?"

He nodded and leaned into the traces. Dusk looked past the fields to the Everfree, where his old home should be. Something in him went tight. He set it aside.

Applejack caught the sag in his shoulders but let it be. She tipped her hat up a touch. "Door's open if you need it. Anytime."

He dipped his head. "Thank you for everything."

Ditzy clicked her tongue, gentle. The cart rolled with a crunch of gravel. They took the path where the ruts ran true. The porch boards creaked as the family leaned to watch.

"Take care, y'all," Granny Smith called, her rocker squeaking.

"See you soon," Ditzy called back.

Apple Bloom waved, and Big Mac lifted a hoof slowly. 

They eased down to the main road.

Ditzy glanced over to Dusk who stared ahead, quiet. She could tell something was wrong and wanted to ask but decided against it for now.

They took the bend by the old well. A cool breath came off the fields. For a while neither spoke as they made their way back toward Ponyville.

#

Ponyville was still active in the long light of late afternoon. Stalls rustled as vendors packed up jars and baskets. 

Ditzy led through the square. 

Dusk matched her stride, offering a few nods and a quiet afternoon here and there while she did most of the talking.

They swung by Quills and Sofas first. Davenport met them at the door with a neat stack of invoices. Ditzy signed and hoofed over a bundle of catalogs. 

A filly skipped close with a jump rope. Dusk nudged the cart a hoof to the left, caught the rope when it skittered near a wheel, and flicked it back with a small smile. The filly beamed and hurried on.

They took a side street lined with flower boxes. Roseluck waved them in and accepted a lavender-scented padded envelope.

Ditzy checked the next address. An elderly stallion peered through thick glasses at the next stop and fumbled the latch. Dusk waited. When the door finally swung open, he set the box just inside so the stallion would not have to bend far. The old pony's thanks came out quiet. Dusk dipped his head and stepped back.

They kept on. Weather ponies pushed the last little clouds aside for sunset. The bell at Town Hall rang once. Foals chased a hoop until a mare clucked them to the sidewalk. 

Ditzy's eyes strayed toward a bright kite snagged on a lamppost, then she caught herself and went back to the list. 

Dusk tipped his chin toward a narrow lane, and they took it without clipping the post.

Soon, only a few stops remained. A bundle at the schoolhouse door. A tube at the carpentry shop. Three letters slipped into the blue box by the fountain, each one stamped clean. 

Ditzy checked the ledger, frowned at a missing signature, and blinked. Oh. Carver moved to the corner unit. They doubled back two doors and found him on his new stoop.

They rolled up to the post office as the first moths found the lamps. Ditzy backed the cart to the step and set the brake. She sorted the last returns into bins and ran a hoof down her clipboard. Her feathers fluffed with relief.

"That's everything," she said, grin bright and a little proud. 'Thanks for today! I didn't crash into a single thing."

Dusk slipped the traces off, hung them on the hook, and rubbed the line the strap had left in his coat. "Glad I could help."

Ditzy ducked inside, came back with a small pouch, and set it in his hoof. "Your pay."

"Thanks, Ditzy."

She tucked the clipboard under her wing and tilted her head. "Get some rest tonight, okay? Tomorrow will be busy too, but not as heavy."

"I will," he said.

"Good." She lifted off the step with an easy flap and hovered a moment. "See you in the morning."

He stepped back from the door. See you.

They parted at the square as the lamps came on and the sky deepened to violet.

#

Dusk walked to the local inn by the square and paid for a room. Suffice to say there was a lot on his mind with what Granny Smith told. He lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Nightmare Moon asked.

“About what?”

“You know.” A cool ripple at the back of his mind. “Granny Smith’s story.”

“Do we have to do this now?”

“A thousand years is ‘now’ enough.” Her voice was low, level. “In their telling, a monster called Nightmare Moon stormed the castle. Princess Luna and Prince Dusk died bravely buying time. The beast was sealed. Curtain falls. Applause.” A bitter smile "Don't even get me started on all this 'Everfree Phantom.'"

"For what it's worth, we still don't know what I am."

"Besides the point." Nightmare went still in his mind. "My sister rewrote history for whatever reason."

Dusk's jaw tightened. "She watched me fight you. I helped her seal you into the moon, and she honored my request to go with you so you would not be alone." His voice roughened. "Why lie?"

"I will always be thankful that you chose to stay. However, I can already imagine the crisis if news came out of my current status. Rather uncomfortable questions would be raised against Celestia. Your choice even more."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. After our departure, she alone now held complete control over Equestria. Some ponies might say it's rather convenient."

"I guess… But she knew we were still alive. We would eventually come back, or was the seal meant to be permanent?"

Silence settled.

“She could not have known when,” Nightmare said at last. “It might have been centuries. It might have been never.” The edge in her voice thinned. “Perhaps she gambled that by the time we returned, the lie would no longer matter. Perhaps she was even lying to herself.”

It stung worse put so plainly. He had given up everything, and the world had written him as a ghost.

"I want to hear it from her," he said.

"We will learn the truth," Nightmare said. Her tone cooled. "Then we confront her."

“I only want to know why.”

"Then we will. But do not flinch from the truth when it looks back at you. Celestia lied to her subjects. She lied to you. She set our names as martyr’s epitaphs to bury her failure. Call it mercy if you like. I call it betrayal.”

"She raised me. A part of me still loves her, despite everything."

"That is why it cuts so deep," Nightmare said. "Love does not excuse what she chose. When the time comes, you may have to stand against her.”

“I won’t promise that.” He swallowed. “And I won’t pledge myself to you.”

“I do not ask for loyalty,” she said after a beat. “Only understanding.”

“I don’t believe that. You want my allegiance.”

Silence again, not empty this time, but full.

“For a thousand years,” she said quietly, “you were the only voice that ever answered me. The only warmth in the dark. I will not pretend I do not want you at my side.”

The admission settled between them.

“I know what you want,” he said. “I won’t give it.” He hesitated. “But I will not pretend those years did nothing. We are… bound.

"That is enough for now," she said. "I can wait."

He let out the breath he was holding. "What now?"

"Now you sleep. Brooding will not help either of us."

He snorted. "I could refuse."

"You could." There was a hint of amusement. "Or you could let me help."

His hoof curled in the sheets, then loosened. "All right."

She was quiet a moment. "Shall I sing to you? Like I used to?"

"I'm not a foal anymore."

"I know," she said. "It soothed you then. It can soothe you now."

He did not answer. His jaw eased a little.

"Hush now, quiet now It's time to lay your sleepy head Hush now, quiet now It's time to go to bed." 

She continued to sing, and the words settled over him. The room narrowed to breath and heartbeat. Memory rose, moonlight and long halls and a presence that never left.

"Rest," she murmured.

His shoulders loosened. The tightness behind his eyes let go. The melody held him and drew him down.

Her presence shifted, closer. The knot in his chest unwound and the room softened.

Beneath it, something laid claim. Quiet, certain. You are mine. You will stand with me. I will see to it.

Dusk slid into sleep.

#

Dusk turned in his sleep as he dreamt.

The square wore sun flags and bright banners. Lanterns ticked in the breeze. A wooden stage waited by the town hall. Ponies pressed shoulder to shoulder. The air smelled sweet, sugar and peel. The sky was a thin blue before dawn.

A hush passed through them. Hooves on boards. Celestia stepped out.

She looked taller than he remembered. Her mane moved with its own slow light. Gold rimmed the edge of morning.

“Mom.” His voice cracked. “It’s me. Luna and I, we’re back from the moon!”

Her eyes slid toward the sound, over him, then past him. Her jaw did not change. “I have no son. Not anymore.”

He stepped closer. “No. Look at me. Please look at me.”

“Whoever you are,” she said to the horizon, smile steady for the crowd, “I do not know what you think this will gain you.”

He fought for breath. “The garden,” he said. “Your tea went cold because I fell asleep on your shoulder. You tried to braid my mane and laughed when it went wrong.”

Her wings drew in a fraction. The smile stayed. Something moved behind her eyes.

“My son is gone,” she said, each word placed like a stone. “My sister is gone. Do not do this to me.”

“It is me,” he said. “I stayed with her so she wouldn’t be alone. You promised we would see each other again. You promised.”

First light touched the hills. The crowd leaned in.

“Go.” Barely a whisper meant only for him. “Please. Just… go.”

He shook his head. “I came back. For you.”

Guards shifted at the edge of the stage. Spears tilted, not yet leveled.

“Raise the sun,” a mare called, bright and eager. Others took it up. “Raise the sun! Raise the sun!”

Celestia lifted her chin. The square held its breath.

“Mom,” Dusk said. His throat hurt. “Don’t turn away from me. Not you.”

She did not look at him. “May they rest in peace. They are beyond suffering now.”

The sun rose. Gold swept the square. The crowd erupted.

Heat struck his face. For a moment he saw only white and her shape, far and untouchable on the stage.

“Do not come to me with this again.” Her voice was quiet, edges honed. “Whoever you are, whatever you seek, I cannot help you.”

The cheer swelled. Confetti flashed. The floor dropped away.

Dusk jerked awake in the inn bed. His chest heaved. Morning burned at the window. The room was still. He gripped the sheet until the shake in his legs eased.

One day closer to his mother.