Death of Kindness

by Airenthaller

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Adventure
Length: 1086

What would a world without kindness look like

Long after kindness has passed from the world ponies are still trying to survive in a land that is often unpleasant and hostile, but a few are striving to change things, to make Equestria better.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-20 19:34:04 UTC

Prologue: Chaos watches over all

The Death of Kindness

Prologue:

Chaos watches over all

Chaos set down on a clifftop overlooking the scene. She pawed the rough, broken stones with forehoof and she smelled the acrid air. The wind was hot and most would find it unpleasant due to the heavy scent of ozone. The smoke from below was beginning to waft up towards her and she welcomed the change of atmosphere, everywhere in the wastelands had the same boring air, oppressive beneath eternally roiling storm clouds, angry with pent up lightning.

She looked down at the ponies below her, hoping to see something new for once. She was quickly disappointed. The struggle was nearly over, a few ponies still fought from the confines of their wagon, but soon their few defences would give out and their fate would be the same as their fellows.

Those poor souls who had fallen earlier were still being strung up or butchered. Some were being thrown on the fires, others still had hours of torture yet to endure. Chaos wasn't quite sure but the attackers looked like Cruelty’s brood, if that was so then the few living ponies would come to envy the dead. Perhaps a few would accept Cruelty into their hearts, many believed the only way to rise from Cruelty’s clutches still alive was to take up the cause.

Chaos contemplated her sibling’s brood as her mouth began to water form the smells wafting up from below. They were imperfect beings, small and stunted, but fast, sharp of tooth and hoof. Their coats were dirty and matted with blood, their manes were no better. Their eyes were dark pits that saw only sources of cruelty, things and ponies for them to torture and break. They were simple and Chaos found them ugly.

Chaos considered her own form. She was tallest of her herd, as was her right being eldest, first of the Foe’s brood. Her horn was longest, but bent at odd angles. Her wings were not feathered but instead resembled a butterfly’s, all in shades of green. The edges of her wings were ragged, seemingly torn and sheared, but to her eyes they possessed an in infinite recursion of a simple pattern where each part had the same shape as the whole, she could stare at them for hours, and encouraged her brood to do the same. Her coat was green and her mane was a floating cloud of infinite green sparkling threads that floated in an invisible. One of her eyes was gree and the other gold. She thought she was the most beautiful being alive, far more beautiful than any alicorn that had preceded her.

She looked back down to the scene of carnage below her and realized the struggle was over. Cruelty’s minions had won the day and were bringing their victory celebration into feverish horror for their poor victims. Chaos began to lose interest, it was all so same. Sometimes the ponies, followers of the Goddesses of Harmony would escape or fight back, most of the time the herd of the foe would overwhelm them. There was blood and slaughter, pain and exultation. It was getting incredibly tedious for her.

For the first few centuries, when her sibling’s herds had been small, there was challenge, but now it was just a slow march towards more of the same. She was becoming more easily bored by the day, and she was Chaos. She looked down towards the feast below her, a group of foes were dragging an iron cage containing an earth pony towards one of the bonfires. They meant to throw it in and enjoy the screams and later the meat. Chaos considered going down for a bit to have a taste, she had no aversion to the Crime after all, nothing was forbidden Chaos.

Something unexpected happened, however, a poisonous snake had hidden itself away beneath a rock, terrified at the commotion and the ponies passing over it’s head. the foe leading the cage tripped over the rock and up-ended it, the serpent struck with lightning speed, sinking it’s fangs before it slithered away. Other foes set to trampling the serpent to death, but not before the iron cage fell to the earth, cracking open and disgorging it’s captive. The frightened pony bolted immediately. none moved to pursue the lost stallion, they were far too engaged with their own entertainments. The foe that had been bitten was already swelling up and would be dead far sooner than his intended victim.

Chaos mused that the freed captive would live longer than his tormentor, in fact if he could survive the wastes he might make it back to a settlement. Chaos reached into the clouds and found a rain cloud with her magic, she tasked it with following the pony to provide him fresh water.

She considered that during the centuries she had played the hero and the villain with equal vigour. She had played weak and strong, she had answered prayers and stolen souls each as they had pleased her. Anyone who had tried to predict her had been ruined. She had thwarted the Goddesses and frustrated her siblings with equal amusement.

She looked up to the angry clouds over the wasteland, the dancing fires beneath her. The sun was setting, another day was done, it displeased her that everyone was certain the sun would rise again and the moon would set but these astral bodies were beyond her control, and possibly always would be. The whole situation and the centuries that was preceded them were all becoming too tedious for her. She wanted change, she was change, but she could not manage the one change that she truly craved.

She wanted to upset the world, throw over the board and scatter the pieces. While she was powerful and ancient, she could somehow not manage it. She contemplated the wasteland, and drew deeply upon the harsh winds and bleak winds that swirled overhead. An idea dawned upon her, there was one who could do what she desired. The best part was that no one could see it coming, her hoof in it would be unseen, unexpected and unknown.

She loved her new plan and thanked the escaping stallion for showing her the way. Without any intermediary phase she became a swarm of butterflies with wings like her own. “It is time for the sleeper to awaken,” said the butterflies in a single rich voice before each disappearing in a different direction.