Aisede

"A pleasure it is, Sustenance you will need, For trials ahead." A perfectly logical reason to cater to the aerion, she thought. Although she must admit she enjoyed making that meal as much as he seemed to enjoy consuming it. "The seals grow weaker, By the morrow she will be free, May my charm protect ~" Nodding, she took one glimpse at the golden trinket before dissipating once again. This time, she took the odd sensation of being scrutinized with her. Maybe she just wanted to spend some time with him and make sure he was alright, or maybe she just wanted to make sure she chose correctly. Whatever the case may be, he was effectively on his own now... But at least he was eating something homemade tonight.

Detective Sundown was afforded all the privacy he desired. After all, it was meant to be a kind gesture, and it'd be rude to intrude upon him. She could see everything he was doing irregardless, so the intent mattered much more. About halfway through the meal, her shadowy apparition emerged from the floor next to the sofa, sitting down to watch him with her inscrutable face. "Is it satisfactory?" She queried. The extra portion, naturally, went to herself. But he really needed to upgrade his kitchen, or at least make it respectable.

The sizzling died down, and he'd hear the burner turn off. Seemed dinner was ready. "The device you hold, In the face of evil not, Can demons withstand." Her simple explanation delivered, the words were accompanied by a floating plate suspended in the hold of no less than three shadowy claws. "Activated not, A passive object it is. In action, proven." The plate is settled down on the coffee table, but not before a modest portion of it is whisked away in the departure of the stygian appendages. A thoughtful him follows.

Once again, Shai neglected to give him any straight answers and make him really work for it, a note of amusement to her voice this time around. "Listen well to what I have to say, Heed my words, and know my way..." She petered off, then, as if approaching the conversation from a different angle. "I am something large four legs, two wings, and strength of body Our kind has kindled empires, our perspectives expansive Just as our inner strength truly lies in the mind Soul is our weapon against what prowls the night, with a resolve most stalwart And, naturally, we possess great spirit. What am I? With my shades of spirit And enshrouded in darkness my body Untrapped in will nor mind And a projection of my ego that one may consider quite large think for yourself what I am, explore the possibilities most expansive And, in your resolve, remain always stalwart."

There was a long pause, long enough that he may have mistakenly assumed she hadn't heard him- her attention did seem slip, after all- but given a little time, she eventually came up with a proper response. "I come from a land distant, a land unknown, A land of sand and bone. Once ruled by tyranny, My home is now free. A fate, here, I wish not to be mine own." The pasta seemed to be going along well. She tossed the pan a few times, allowing the ingredients to mix before stirring it up with whatever clean utensil she could find. Some plates were also floating out of the cupboard- or, well, one plate.

Milk turned into cream, mixing with the thawed noodles and red sauce as the older noodles were mixed in. A heady aroma began to fill the space as she fetched salt and pepper, and rooted around for any additional ingredients to finish off the dish. It wouldn't be long now- just cook it for awhile, make sure it doesn't stick to the pan, and it'd be ready in no time. Creamy and saucy ~ "I am Shai." That was it. No rhyme, no grand titles, no elaboration. A simple statement of fact, from a pragmatic mare.

As the good detective continued to give himself a headache for the amusement of his new mistress of mysteries, a shadowy few shadowy tendrils floated about the kitchen, reaching into pantries, checking on the oven, and laying out the pasta on the counter. The milk straight up vanished, much like how she could apparently summon objects at-will. A low, melodious hum filled the culinary space as she worked, the tune carrying with it exotic notes from a foreign land that would probably remind him of a desert and camels. A couple moments would go by before a new, fresher carton of milk appeared, pouring into the base of the sauce-pan until it was covered in a thin layer of white. Next, she withdrew some red-sauced lunch out of the fridge, ripping the plastic film off and dumping the contents into the pan. She seemed to know how to navigate the burner as, in a few moments, the milk was sizzling, and a frozen block of pasta was thawing in the mixture.

Whatever the case may be, it would appear that the good detective wasn't quite clever enough to figure this puzzle out. No matter which way he aligned the symbols or tried to perceive its hidden potential, his efforts were met with failure after failure. What's more, as he went about this task, he'd hear the faint and amused voice of his mysterious benefactor. She didn't say anything, but her presense never wanted, either. She was still there, and she wasn't helping at all! Something was moving around in the kitchen, but nothing was apparent. It seemed she wasn't quite done exploring his little home yet, even if she were leaving him to his own devices.

Some of the symbols were vaguely reminiscent of the scribbles found in the occultist book, granted of a much more refined caliber, with more confident lines and a pragmatic air to the simple markings. Testing it, he'd find that all three rings could rotate, causing different symbols to align, although nothing seemed to happen as he tampered with the object. Asides from its exotic origins and alien writing, it seemed to be completely unremarkable. He may not have been a unicorn, but even earth ponies had some affinity for magic. The batty detective could sense nothing special about it whatsoever.

They shake once, and then the lady and her supernatural shadows both vanish into thin air, dissolving like smoke in a strong draft. In his hoof, a sturdy weight now rested. It was a strange, if simple device she had bequeathed him: made of solid gold, three interlocked rings inscribed with archaic runes added the chill of metal to his hoof. "A test you will endure, Knowledge and intuition will keep you pure. Feel it now, and know its purpose, For using such a tool, misguided, would be remiss. We shall meet again, once the demon's life you have found a cure."

Nodding in satisfaction that her message got through, the book went back where it belonged. Or, well, it went back into the box. It belonged in a bonfire, but that wouldn't be looked upon with much fondness. "A mare in appearance alone, Inside, a sight worse than a crone. To put an end to this budding plight, You will require all of your might. A tenacity, and mental endurance you have shown." With a ponderous gait, she moved back into towards the coffee table, but decided not to abuse his furniture this time and instead stand next to it, looking at him. "I have my methods, What I need is your trust. That is a great must." Slowly, she offered her paw to him, leg outstretched and palm up. Smaller dark tendrils extended from it, as if reaching out for him. It was probably a rather eerie sight.

The shadow lingered on the book, flipping it open and scrolling through it with slightly more interest than his other belongings. However, it didn't seem to be anything of interest to her as she placed it back where she found it. Even if she was riffling through his stuff, she at least showed some care. She barley acknowledged the photo. Instead of answering him right away, she nosed around through the evidence he had collected, seeming to have some idea what she was looking for after a couple moments of probing the area with an army of dark tentacles. Facing him, the tendrils almost reverently withdrew a plastic bag- one of many- but this one contained an item of particular importance. Gesturing towards it with an open paw as it was suspended by its lip, she elaborated. "Misguided, misinformed, yet not erred from their errant path. Motivated by falsehood and falacy, it is not hard to do the math." The book was brought closer so that he may inspect it, granted she mercifully left the bag zipped, and the book unmolested. "An entity they summoned, malign beyond their reckoning, Now freed, their follies paid, your attention she is beckoning. In time, she will return. We must act, lest you incur her wrath."

Maybe it was his imagination, but she seemed... Disappointed by his answer, her indistinct body sagging slightly in place. "So you have chosen the path unclear, Rife with strife, fate endeared." Righting herself once again, she hopped off the table, leaving a stream of black vapors behind her that faded into nothing in her wake. Her paws made no sound as she landed, neither as she moved around the sofa to explore the room in earnest, more dark tendrils extending from the shadows near her to manipulate objects into her line of sight. "A tragedy, borne of greed and ignorance, Ones misguided with discarded innocense." She looked back at him, tail flicking. "They lived in a world unknown, one of fear."

All is quiet... Until his keen hearing would pick up a quiet rustling. It could have been his imagination, or even an animal outside, but the gradual darkening of the room hinted at a much more sinister origin. Slowly, deliberately, a stygian haze expanded from the corners of the room, trailing twisting snakes of shadow that grasped for anything within reach to pull into their nebulous embrace. Out of the darkness came a familiar figure, emerging from the space where a television would be in a more modern setting, complete with leering red eyes that settled upon the room as it touched down on top of the coffee table, four whispy paws noiselessly settling upon the old wood. Oddly enough, the feeling of being watched never came to him until it finished observing its surroundings and laid eyes on him, shadowy tendrils sorting through the notes and knick knacks he failed to properly take care of. "The death of incompetence you seem to be, And a stallion with terrors you wish to be free, A resilient one, of that there is no doubt, Nary a nicker nor fearful bout, And after all that your eyes could see." It- she spoke with a voice as ethereal as her body, yet it carried in it a trace of... Admiration? Flicking a lengthy lash of a tail, it raised its head up to look down its nose at the stallion, the entity's eyes gaining a sudden intensity. "Marked you are with a devil's ire, Soon to be burned on her passion's pyre." Looking away from him, some of his belongings floated over to it, allowing her to scan its contents with an inscrutable face. "A stallion of knowledge, it would seem And this, a simple... 'Crime scene.'" it tilted its head at him, discarding the notes and placing them back where they belonged. "Tell me. What is it you desire?"

The sensation persisted, doggedly following him all the way back to his dwelling where, finally, it simply ceased. The moment he'd pull out his keys or approach the door, he was finally afforded some privacy. Some ponies had given him odd looks as he passed by them, but none of them seemed to be the culprit. Still...

The house took on a new, eerie quality as he made his way back. Here and there, he'd swear he felt eyes on him, following him towards the exit. Nothing popped out at him, nothing slowed him down. He'd reach the front door uneventfully, and easily leave the place behind... For a good while, at least. As soon as he stepped hoof outside the front door, the sensation of being watched never diminishes. It was constant, uneasy feeling that stuck to him like a miasma, and if he peered into the shadows around him for too long, he may notice odd shapes within, facing him from just beyond perception. He was not alone. Not now, and possibly not ever.

The entire house was eerily quiet as he contemplated this. Nothing pursued him past the relatively flimsy barrier, no voices called after him, no shadowy apparitions came to haunt him. Either they had lost an interest in him, or something else was ahoof.

The pegasus shouted and made to dash after him with inequine speed. The only reason she didn't impact him like a freight train on steroids was because a new pane of magic materialized in her path. He could feel the impact she made with it more than hear it as he fled. Luckily, the bookshelf previously hiding the hidden room was still out of the way, allowing him to escape the death and incense behind him. As if on cue, the horsehead snapped back into place, and the bookshelf quietly slid back into place as if sweeping the whole fiasco under the rug.

Seeing this, the pegasus pressed on, an urgency to her voice and a rions. "I came in here to check on you, then a monster attacked. Help me dispell this thing and we can get somewhere safe." She took another step forward, and outstretched her hoof, pleading with him through her eyes that looked so innocent and pure. The pane of magic's color and light intensified. "Taste not the honey, A lord of flies this one is, Deadly her surprise." Gradually, the pane widened, but not enough to stop him from taking her hoof. While the rest of the world became muted behind the magic window, her eyes still managed to stand out, their vibrancy undiminished and color remaining firm. "Don't listen to it, it's only trying to trick you so you'll end up like those mares over there. Please."

The pegasus giggled again, a positively elated sound. She was overjoyed to hear his response. Reaching out with her other hoof, she gripped his cheeks firmly with surprising strength. Bringing her body closes, they were nearly belly to belly. Those eyes dominated his world now, so close were they to his. "I'm so happy to hear that. Now... All you have to do," she started, and their muzzles became closer and closer. Her eyes became half-lidded, and her voice became distant and indistinct as he felt a tugging from within himself. "Is promise me your-" "Nay!" Suddenly, a pane of purple magic manifested between them, mere moments before their lips touched. This caused the fair maiden to recoil with a hiss, backing away as if she had been burnt. Indeed, her nose looked a little red as she cleared the distance to the other side of the room. At the same time, all the bewitching beauty of the pegasus seemed to melt away, replaced with a rather ordinary, if attractive, red-eye'd pegasus glaring around the room. "Trust in me my ally, For dangers lurk beneath charm, Bewitchment indeed." While no shadowy apparition made itself apparent this time, he could still feel those uncanny eyes on his back once again, the shimmering pane of purple never fading even as the pony laid her eyes on it- and him, once again. Smiling, she took a step towards him, the redness on her nose now gone. "Friend, we need to leave this place. It's not safe."

Her smile widened in an almost unnatural way. Too wide. But she was still looking at him, and that was enough. Gracefully, she rose to unblemished hooves, untouched by the dirt and blood surrounding her. She circled him, allowing those silky golden strands to trail just under his muzzle as she disappeared from sight behind him. Then he heard a whisper, right beside his ear. "An inquirer, hmm?" Her voice was angelic, and echoed as if sung by a quiet choir in the background. "and what is it you have come to inquire about, little pony?" There was a giggle, and then she returned, standing before him with wings slightly unfurled, displaying her plumage- not a feather was out of place. "Is it about my friends?" She pointed behind him, but he didn't want to look away from those blazing rubies. "They wanted to be friends, but failed to make the offerings of friendship." Slowly, she reached a hoof out to touch his cheek. It was soft and gentle, and her expression softened. Somewhere under that exterior, something... Strange reached out to him. He could feel it in the subtle heat of her touch. "Will you be my friend?"

The feeling of being watched gradually faded as time passed, indicating the shadowy figure really did leave, or was simply masking its presense. As for the altar, it was pretty standard fare for a cult: big, scary book filled with archaic scribbles and disturbing imagery was displayed on a weathered lecturn, situated before two copper rods. Stretched between these rods was what was for all appearances to be the hide of a lion, inscribed with a bloody constellation and decorated with fresh carnations. Atop the two poles were burners still releasing the whispers of incense into the room. The lion head was situated above the whole ensemble, taunting the detective for his foolish bravery. "Oh my, what do we have here?" Unlike with the shadowy presense, this one didn't bother making a spectacle of her arrival. One moment he was alone in the room, and the next- a stunning white pegasus was standing in the room with him, admiring the altar right beside him as if she had been there the whole time. She gave the whole thing look over with somewhat bored, blood red eyes, before turning her gaze on him, causing her silky golden locks to rustle as if caught in a brief wind. When she smiled, he didn't want to run away- he wanted to stay right there and admire it for an eternity if he had to... "And who might you be, little pony? A friend? A visitor? An... Inquirer?" The way she said inquirer, and how her eyes gained a sudden intensity, implied that word probably carried some weight.

This seemed to be the wrong question, as, in the blink of an eye, the dark creature was right up in his face, taking up his entire point of view. "I ask the questions here." And then it backed away, another shadow forming near the bodies at the same moment the one near him began to fade. Even when those red eyes weren't steadily glaring at him, he could still feel her gaze on him. "... Fate is truly bleak, I do not believe you are The one I so seek." And then it was gone, and the shadows returned to normal. Yet, some remnant of her remained in the room, a foreboding pressure against his mind. "Tread no further, sir For demons you seek today, What you find will be dismay." ... Well that was an ominous warning. Maybe it'd be a good idea to heed her advice, or perhaps there was something else to be gained from loitering there and seeing what else decided to pay him a visit?

His day was about to get a lot worse. As those invisible eyes settled on him once again, an undeniable presense asserted itself over the room, causing the shadows to writhe like an optical illusion. Everything would seem normal when he looked, but just out of the corner of his eyes... He could see it, something moving through the darkness. And then he heard a voice. "Truth in words there are, A scene of crime visited twice, In darkness, allure ~" Suddenly, the obscure figure came into sharp focus. First with one black, wavering leg. And then another. Claws piqued the very tips of its paws, and two beaming red eyes flickered into existence upon its inscrutable face as it emerged from a wall. "Tell me, why is it that you have visited once more?"

Click. As his hood made contact, the entire statue tilted back about 30°, then stopped. Like a lever being pulled, a secret passageway made itself known through as ancient wood quietly scraped against the carpet, soon revealing a dank, dungeanous passage into brazier-lit darkness. It was a stairway, of course, with stonework older than the entire building, yet somehow in much better condition. The smell of incense, previously something that was possible to ignore to some degree, asserted itself once again as the pungent odor blasted out of the opening with all the impact of a physical force. Following this mysterious trail would, inevitably, lead him to a wide, appropriately atmospheric chamber. Arcane symbols were scrawled into the wall, some with knife, some with something else. The floor here was plain, solid stone, also occasionally marred with an indecipherable glyph. No furniture decorated the room except for an altar at the very back, at the head of which was the trophy of a lion, or a manticore, with its maw gaping open, seemingly ready to maul the first thing that came within striking distance. The room was not empty. The bodies of three ponies were arranged in a circle outside the perimeter of what could only be described as a demonic sigil spanning a good quarter of the open space on the floor. In the center of the hexagram was a copper seal etched with the sigil of some profane entity, and the entire thing reeked of dark magic- if it being made out of blood wasn't evidence enough. Looking closely at the bodies, Sundown would notice that each and everyone one of them had hooves bloodied and raw, with pale coats soaked in stinking sweat. Their faces were locked in varying expressions of horror and dismay, tears frozen midway down their cheeks. Whatever happened to them, it did not happen instantaneously.