It was a handsome pipe, though Dim wondered if it was worth purchasing. The pipe was a frivolous expenditure to be sure, but it was a handsome pipe of unique design. Bombay called it creepy, but what did she know? A skeletal arm and hand clutching a bloodshot eyeball was the perfect accoutrement for a vizard. The bony arm and hand were carved from fine wood, while the eyeball was crafted from glass. Dim suspected that when lit, the eyeball would have a Tartarian glow.

“It’s hideous,” Bombay—whiskers aquiver—said while shaking her head.

Dim could not help but wonder if she felt that way because she had lost her eye. Saying nothing, he packed the pipe with clove-infused cannabis while also admiring its superb design. The stem fit just so between his lips and rested comfortably in the corner of his mouth. With a flick of magic, he triggered ignition within his pipe and tried a few experimental puffs. In doing so, he somehow attracted the attention of a rather inebriated earth pony, who came wobbling over to have a bleary-eyed gawk.

After a sour belch, as if to say hello, the earth pony asked in a heavy accent, “What manner of pony are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?”

Had this disgusting primitive never seen a unicorn? Was there no magic in this alicorn forsaken countryside? Puffing away, Dim regarded the earth pony with a perplexed, but stolid sneer for all to see upon his face. Rather than send this poor wretch away, Dim decided to humour him. “I… am a vizard.”

The earth pony belched out a foul miasma of soured wine, ale, and over-fried food. He blinked a few times, his ears rose and fell, and he swayed on his hooves. “By what name are you known?”

Dim shared an amused glance with Bombay and then replied, “There are some who call me… Dim.”

“Greetings, Dim the Vizard.” The earth pony hiccupped, and satisfied, he went stumbling off, muttering incoherently to himself as he went.

Exchanging another glance with Bombay, Dim saw her shrug, and so he also shrugged back at her in return. The weird but harmless encounter had left both of them a bit perplexed, but they seemed to have shared the same overall reaction. Which was nice, Dim supposed. Bombay waved, signalling that she needed more drink, and while Dim puffed away, he decided that he too, could use a bit more liquid cheer.

Puffing contentedly upon his new pipe, Dim pulled out his spellbook for study.

Blackbird returned to find the group pretty much as she had left it, though Dim was smoking a pipe. This gave her pause, and upon having herself a closer examination of said item, she found herself thoroughly disgusted by what she saw. It was a horrendous pipe, a horrendous pipe of nightmarish design that seared itself into her consciousness. A skeletal arm clutching a bloody eyeball in twig-like skeletal fingers. It even had a Tartarian glow about it and demonic shapes rose from the eyeball to dance jigs of damnation in circles around Dim’s head.

Nope!

Feeling pleased with herself, she flung herself down into a battered chair that had seen better days long ago and flashed her companions one of her best smiles. She was now a few guns lighter, but she had a grenade again, and that was cause for happy times. Her bright eyes reflected the firelight and her sleek, black body had a faint sheen of sweat.

“You pick now of all times to study, Dim?”

He sneered a bit, a handsome sneer that set Blackbird’s heart aflutter like a spastic butterfly. Bombay and Munro were playing cards, some game that Blackbird wasn’t familiar with. Motte and Bailey were trying to outdrink one another, which was weird, because they were the same pony and this caused one to think about all manner of troubling implications.

“I seem to be able to learn new spells,” Dim replied with thick aristocratic annoyance in his voice. “Several of them. It’s been quite an exciting day for me.”

“You leveled up!”

“I did what?”

“One of my previous companions… the one that put on his robe and wizard hat and kept telling me that I failed my saving throws against his charms… you’ve gained a level as a wizard, Dim, and that means learning new spells. Which you seem to be doing. Wizards level slowly and it takes a lot of time to gain enough experience to earn a new level.”

“Blackbird…”

“Yeah?”

“Cease this brain-stupefying prattle at once.”

“Aw, come on, Dim. Lighten up.”

“I’m trying to study—”

“But this is a time to have fun!” Blackbird leaned forwards, totally unconcerned about Dim’s death glare. “I’m going to see about a bath.”

Dim’s book snapped shut and Blackbird saw a change overcome his face while his new nightmarish pipe bobbed in the corner of his mouth. A rising smoke imp grabbed its groin and made lewd gestures while it rose to join the others dancing over Dim’s head. She had Dim’s attention now, and this was good, because she was a whole lot of creature and it was nice to have help scrubbing her back—there was too much back for one to scrub alone.

“Dim… that pipe…”

“What about it?”

“It’s a bit gross.”

“That’s an opinion, not to be confused with fact.”

Blackbird, smiling, licked her teeth and her tongue lingered upon a sharp canine tip.

“On the contrary, I find the pipe to be quite handsome. It communicates exactly what sort of vizard I am.” Just like magic, a smirk appeared on Dim’s face, a handsome smirk that did nothing to make the nightmarish pipe more appealing. “Finding worthwhile rolling papers is quite difficult so this is a solution to a problem.”

Try as she might, Blackbird couldn’t figure out why anybody would make a pipe like that one in the first place; it wasn’t like one could count on a travelling vizard to stop by and take a fancy to it. Or could they? Somebody had made it, and a buyer had found it. This gave Blackbird pause and she thought about the nature of life. Sometimes, random chance worked out. Fortune favoured the bold. She had taken Dim on as a mercenary companion and now she was here, in Fancy, trying to stop the flowing tide of war. How did one stop a tide? It seemed impossible.

Life had many funny quirks.

There were no tubs, but there were showers, if a weak trickle of water could be called a shower. This was considered adequate bathing facilities and the promise of such had proven to be a lie. There would be words with the innkeeper, perhaps. While the promise had a certain truth to it, what was offered left much to be desired.

She and Dim sat beneath the tickle together and neither of them were particularly wet. Damp was a stretch and it would take a while before they reached said state. Reaching out, she lifted Dim’s mane away from his eyes so that she could have a better look at them. His eyes, hidden behind his goggles most of the time, were quite beautiful in their own way. She saw him looking at her, perhaps studying her, and she found herself wondering about what he might be thinking.

The tile floor was rough, a bit scratchy, and the grout between the tiles had started to crumble, leaving behind a sandy, gritty feeling. She thought about what she had said a while ago, about Dim leveling up, and wondered if perhaps there was some truth to it. What changes had been wrought on her? Killing the pseudo-alicorn and then going to retrieve Dim—what had that done to her?

“What spell did you learn when you were reading your book in the common room?”

Dim’s ears pricked and a thin trickle of water ran down his temple, leaving behind a darkened patch of pelt. “I did not expect for you to show an interest in my spells.”

She shrugged, not knowing how to reply.

“I am trying to learn a spell called Vampire’s Kiss. No success as of yet, but I feel that I am close. For the first time, I am able to read it with clarity and without getting a massive headache. Perhaps soon, it will burn itself into my mind.”

“Ooh… will that let you suck the life out of something?” Even as she said it, she heard Dim groan and knew that she had annoyed him by saying something stupid.

“No.” He shook his head. “Spells like that don’t really exist, as far as I know. Magic… unicorn magic anyhow. Demons however, and other eldritch entities, they do possess life-sucking magic.” He sighed and tilted his head to try and get a different spot damp. “This spell causes the victim to bleed profusely. Any wounds or injuries result in violent blood loss. It seems like it would be useful with companions around. Even a grazing wound would become a crisis.”

“Dim… what unicorn comes up with horrible magic like that?”

“No unicorn,” he replied while water trickled against his ear. “It is believed that Princess Luna wrote this spell. At least, we Darks believe that. While the rest of the world forgot our matron founder, we kept her legacy alive by studying her spells. Her magic. This originates from a grimoire that doesn’t bear her name, but has her style, her methodology, and follows the pattern of how she scribes spells. Of course, Princess Luna couldn’t affix her name to such a terrible spell… such an act would come back to haunt her.”

Blackbird found herself appalled by the very idea, but she did nothing to show it. Dim was baring his soul right now, sort of, and she didn’t want him to stop. He was talking, revealing himself, sharing his secrets. She most certainly didn’t want to disturb him or make him stop. He needed to open up so that she could get in.

“Princess Celestia made a dreadful mistake trusting us Darks with Princess Luna’s magical legacy. At least, it is said that she gave us all of her sister’s spellbooks for safe keeping. I’ll confess, I do not know the truth. But we did have these books and many of them have dangerous magic. In the beginning, we were loyal… true to Equestria. We were Darks… Equestria’s most dreaded and most feared protectors. A great many of us were selected by Princess Celestia to become her student… her apprentice. We had a fine and noble history and we were trusted. How could ones so noble become so… ignoble? How could we turn like we have? It is only now that I understand why my mother was so pissy about me digging into our family history… our roots. She didn’t want me knowing. None of them did. But I found out and in hindsight… I… I don’t even know what to say.”

Reaching out, Blackbird smoothed back Dim’s coal-black mane and stroked one damp ear.

“Meeting Eerie broke me, Blackbird. It broke me. I cannot even begin to express how I feel knowing that she exists… and that she too is trying to atone for our family’s great many sins. She’s found her way, I suppose. Eerie is doing what is right for her and I believe she is recovering. But I fear that I am too far gone… try as I might, and as of late, I have been trying, I just don’t see much hope for myself. I feel as though I am barely even a Dark. Eerie has the sort of raw magic power needed to change the world. Me? I’m struggling to learn spells that aren’t even considered powerful by one of her ilk. She would find them laughably easy. Foal’s play. The fight with the pseudo-alicorn and that wolf-creature has thrown everything into sharp perspective. I lack the magical wherewithal to do the truly great things that would redeem me.”

Blackbird found that she didn’t know what to say, but she felt bad for Dim. He was just too hard on himself. It was downright intimidating sometimes to be around somepony so motivated, so driven, who pushed themselves so hard. She wished that Dim could see what she saw in him, but he seemed blind to his own strengths. While she wasn’t sure how to fix things, she did think of something to say.

“Dim… Chantico found you worthy. You are the Champion of Chantico. Everywhere you go, she gains followers. So you must be doing something right. Something that you are doing is enough to inspire others to share your faith… your belief. Your restoring the faith and worship of a forgotten hearth spirit.”

“There… there is some truth in what you have to say, Blackbird.”

“We work with what we have, Dim. You can’t compare yourself to Eerie. She’s off doing her own thing and trying to get her head sorted out. You have a different purpose and only you can fulfill that purpose. Not Eerie, not anypony else, just you. You were chosen. So stick to that.”

“You’re right.” Dim blinked and an astonishing change overcame his delicate, androgynous features. “Thank you, Blackbird… that was just what I needed to hear.”

A tender moment was rare, a treasured thing, and Blackbird did not wish to spoil it. “Aw, don’t mention it, Dim…”

Author's Notes:

There will be a brief time skip... just sayin'. When next we meet, we'll be investigating the bandit camp. Good times await.