The many passageways of the White Hand seemed somehow labyrinthine, and for some reason this seemed fitting. While there were places with stern right angles, there were other places such as the hallway where Dim was now that was all gentle, sloping curves. It was rather round, with no straight lines, and the type of stone that made the walls was unknown. It hummed with magic and was quite fascinating, however.

They seemed to be descending, but Dim had a hard time telling, because there was the most powerful sensation of going upwards even though the passageway had a downward slant. This place was disorienting and Dim suspected that it had something to do with the strange magic that permeated everything. He would need a thaumaturgical map to know for sure, but he was almost certain that ley lines crossed one another in this location, and the White Hand was acting as some kind of focus-locus for hocus-pocus.

Behind him, the soft voices of Blackbird’s bushwoolie brigade caused his ears to twitch, as did the sound of Blackbird’s sudden explosive fits of the giggles. His fatigue was catching up to him because he had been awake for far too long, but nothing could be done about that now, as there were things to be done and introductions to be made.

Eerie made a sudden turn to the left and in a loud, clear voice of command, she said, “Down!”

She vanished from view with a whoosh, a rush of wind that blew Dim’s mane back from his face. No stranger to lifts, Dim too, stepped out onto the nothingness and said, “Down.” He too, was sucked down by a powerful blast of air and he hoped that Blackbird could figure this out, or she would be left behind.

Craning his head, he looked up just in time to see Blackbird being shoved into the shaft by her bushwoolie friends. She did not go quietly to her doom, as there was much flapping and cawing done in protest of being thrown down a dark shaft. Before Dim even registered what it was that he was doing, he was snickering at Blackbird’s cruel fate.

As Dim dropped down, he was grazed by an updraft, and a pretty minotaur calf wearing a maid’s outfit went shooting up past him, her ribboned pigtails whipping about in the crosswinds. He nodded, because he saw no harm in being nice to the help, and also because she was friendly and had waved at him while she went careening upwards.

The drop, as it had turned out, was short, and Dim soon found himself standing on a landing with Eerie. The two of them stepped out of the way together just as the first of the bushwoolies landed, and then Blackbird came crashing down in a tangle of wings and limbs.

“I was almost gored by a minotaur!” Blackbird shouted in alarm. “Her horn almost went right up my bum!”

“Stay off to your side the next time,” Eerie replied as the corners of her mouth kept twitching. “Keep your wings in, tuck in your legs, and for the love of the stars above, hold still. Have you no dignity?”

“No, it seems not!” Blackbird tried to pull herself back together as her collection of bushwoolies swarmed around her. “Why must creatures with horns be so threatening?”

Dim’s senses suggested to him that he might be underground now, down beneath the White Hand. It was confusing though, because it wasn’t musty and dank. The air was fresh, pleasant to breathe, and rather warm, all things considered. Dim examined the walls, which were now some dark colour of some unknown stone, and they appeared to have been shaped with magic. Doorways were rounded, but not perfect circles, and it was as if the entire passageway had flowed into existence. The stone shaper’s magic still resonated, was still strong, and Dim’s magic sense suggested that it might not have been a regular pony who had shaped this place. Was he sensing alicorn magic? He didn’t know and it was too difficult to tell.

Everything vibrated with a thaumaturgic hum and Dim could see wisps of aetherfire flickering in and out of existence. He had power here, immense power, he could feel it welling up inside of him and it seemed as though any feat of magic might now be possible for him. What was this place and why did it exist?

Moving like a mare possessed, Eerie trotted down the hallway with her head held high, humming a happy tune to herself…

The first thing Dim noticed was the vomiting alicorn statue. Okay, maybe it wasn’t vomiting, but water did pour from its mouth into a wide pool, causing ripples to spread along the surface. Music was playing in the circular chamber and there was a minotaur conducting a four piece string quartet. The ceiling above was a somewhat damaged fresco that portrayed a group of alicorns battling some shapeless monstrosity made of eyeballs and tentacles.

Overwhelmed, there was too much to take in all at once and Dim took a moment to compose himself. The music played by the string quartet was sad, surreal, and rather otherworldly. Looking down, he saw the floor beneath his hooves also told a story, and like the alicorns above, they battled a terrible foe, some kind of flaming demon creature made of smoke, fire, and shadow. The pool of water was round and the edges of it had mountains, the profiles of cities, and after a few moments of outright staring, Dim realised it was the representation of a planet.

Even more curious, he saw a white hand, the White Hand, and not too far away was the Black Hand. Above the two hands was the demon beast made of darkness and flames. Feeling eyes upon him, Dim looked up and into the eyes of Eerie Dark, who seemed to be studying him. He turned his attention back to the fiery demon on the floor and thought that his eyes had to be playing tricks on him, because it appeared to be burning as tiny flames flickered along its profile.

Eerie walked away from Dim and towards the minotaur, her head swaying in time to the music. Looking up from the floor, Dim had a better look at the minotaur, and began to study him. He was tall, but slight of build, much like Modesto. Also like Modesto, this minotaur had two mechanical hands, complete with the odd crystalline structures along the forearms. He was a dark sooty grey with patches of midnight blue along his face and ears. Dim concluded that this had to be Mars, but he said nothing so he would not interrupt the music.

To satisfy his curiousity, Dim strode forwards, stopped at the edge of the pool, and looked down at the water. At first, he saw nothing but ripples, but light and shapes began to form in the inky blackness. The water smelled like a thunderstorm and tiny motes of aether could be seen twinkling in the dark unknown.

The drowned visage of Darling Dark rose up in the water below him and Dim ceased breathing and blinking. Her eyes were milky, dead, lifeless. They held no warmth, no lusty affection, and he saw nothing of the pony he once knew within them. Would she sing? Dim forced himself to blink before his eyes dried out and when he made himself draw breath it sounded like a death rattle.

“Come away from the pool, Dim… you are not strong enough of will nor magic to control it, and it will only show you your regrets and what hurts you most.”

It took a surprising amount of effort to tear his eyes away from the drowned corpse in the water and Dim made himself look at Eerie. He had loved Darling once, perhaps it was a twisted love, a corrupt love, but he had loved her, if it could be called that. Whatever affection had been there was choked by weeds of hatred and contempt though, and when the time came… he hadn’t saved her. No, he had struck her down.

“Come away, Dim… your very nature is chaos and this pool is touched by the magic of the ancient alicorns, beings of supreme order. You are their antithesis. I fear what the pool will do to you.” Eerie made a gentle come-hither gesture with her hoof and her kind eyes were inviting. “Blackbird, pull Dim away from the pool if he will not move on his own.”

A vague sense of panic welled up in Dim’s barrel when he realised that he could not move his legs and was frozen in place. He wanted to look into the water once more and the compulsion was so powerful that he failed to notice that the music had stopped playing. Just one more look… one final look into Darling’s dead eyes so that perhaps he could beg forgiveness. The crest of his mane became saturated with sweat in mere seconds and Dim noticed a dreadful tremble that was all too familiar… the same tremours that came with the need for coca or opium laced salts.

Just a final glance to say goodbye…

The urge to throw himself into the water and join Darling was powerful, and Dim was powerless. A strong foreleg wrapped around his neck and a much larger body brushed up against his as a wing wrapped around his eyes, blinding him. A part of him wanted to kill Blackbird for interfering, but a much stronger part of him allowed her to save him, to pull him away.

“Curious, I had not expected this reaction, though I should have. Blackbird, do not look into the pool, no matter how tempting. You too are a creature of chaos, because of your hybrid nature.” Eerie’s voice was commanding, and also filled with concern. “Mars, we should all talk elsewhere.”

Away from the pool, Dim’s legs gave away beneath him and we would have fallen to the floor if Blackbird hadn’t held on to him. She was whispering something into his ear, but he couldn’t make out what it was because of the rushing sound of blood pounding through his head. Still blinded, still covered by her wing, Dim shook with overwhelming terror and the all consuming need for a fix, a need that had been dormant for quite some time, a need that he thought he had been somehow cured of.

Heaving a worried sigh, Eerie said, “Come, let us be away from this room… I think Dim will need time to recover.”

Dubious, Dim eyeballed the cup of coffee set down before him and thought about the warning he had been given about Istanbull coffee. A lot of confusing words had been thrown about, such as sade, orta, and şekerli, all of which determined how much sugar went in while the coffee cooked. When he sniffed, it smelled spicy, and the colour was quite unlike any other coffee he had ever seen. It was foamy and appeared to be more sludge than coffee. It was like somepony had poured too much water into a flowerpot and then allowed the dirt to float to the top.

Shivering, he was glad to be away from that dreadful pool, whatever it was, and he had some faint understanding of how Eerie had been watching he and Blackbird from afar. Whatever powerful magics the pool possessed, Dim was denied their exploration. Was he so far removed from harmony? Something about this knowledge bothered him, though he could not say why.

So lost in his own head was Dim that he failed to notice the opulence of the room around him, or the silk cushion he sat upon. The walls were covered in rich, heavy tapestries that were free of dust and lint. A crank operated phonograph sat in the corner, silent, unused. Overhead, stars and constellations had been frescoed onto the ceiling. In particular, this fresco showed the Zodiac Houses of Equestria, the lineages said to have come from Princess Luna, with the most prominent being the Lion and the Dark Guardian, both of whom held up the moon in the middle of the ceiling.

“Mars is a composer, Dim,” Eerie said as she hovered next to him like a worried mother hen. “He’s quite skilled… he wrote the music that welcomed you to our fair city. I told him to create something that would remind you of who and what you are, and would inspire you to take up the mantel that you were born to bear.”

Lifting his head, Dim had the presence of mind to remember how the music had made him feel. Even in his discombobulated, disconnected state, he was impressed beyond measure by what Mars had done. The music had, in fact, reminded him of who and what he was. It had awoken something deep within, some vital part of him that had lain near death for far too long.

“Alas, poor Mars, he can’t play instruments, due to his hands being the way they are, but he can compose music. When I began his tutelage, he took to musical composition in very much the same way a duck takes to water. I had to hire better instructors to nurture his talent and I—”

“Eerie, stop, you flatter me,” Mars said, making a gentle interruption. Turning to Dim, he rested one of his mechanical hands upon the table and worry was visible upon his face. “Composing music and battlefield tactics are the same thing, I find. It is all about starting the right section at the right time, and doing so in such a way that you achieve maximum impact with what you have. Fine orchestration works just as well on the battlefield as it does in a concert hall.”

Feeling emboldened, Dim lifted his coffee cup, took one sip, and then almost swallowed his own face. Blackbird’s tittering filled his ears and his vision fuzzed over for a moment. After a few seconds spent recovering, Dim downed the rest of the his coffee, then he put his cup down upon the table, and afterwards, he shuddered for a bit. In the bottom of the cup, there had been a fine silt of coffee grounds, and he had just drank most of them. He could still feel the strange but pleasurable texture on his tongue.

For a brief fraction of a second, Dim heard the hum of the universe, and was enlightened.

“I think I can feel my brain stem wiggling,” Blackbird remarked in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “That coffee made me feel strange. My claws feel funny and my hooves… my hooves feel all jittery on the inside.” Then, after a prolonged silence, she added, “Also, I’d like to report that my big pettable kitty clitty seems to have its own heartbeat now. What’d that coffee do to me?”

A brave bushwoolie seemed to materialise out of nowhere to pour more coffee, and while it went about its task, it shot furtive glances at both Dim and Blackbird. Eerie was making strange faces, but she had said nothing. Meanwhile, Mars was sniggering and snorting in a way that only a gargantuan bull-creature could, while also avoiding Eerie’s withering, decidedly-maternal gaze of displeasure.

It was time for a strategic subject change, but what?

“Mars… tell me about the Black Hand…”

Author's Notes:

This has been only somewhat edited. A better version might be uploaded later. That is all.