Home Sweet Home: A Candy-Mare Tale

by Knackerman

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Princess Luna, Original Character
Length: 21753

The Candy Mare comes home for the Holidays. What will it mean for the fledgling nation of Equestria? Read on to find out!

A gruesome holiday tale with a peppermint twist. In the ancient lands where the three pony tribes once lived the Windigo's magic has locked the weather in an eternal winter storm. Two little foals, who have lost their way, seek to find food and shelter in the deep dark woods. What they take for their only hope for survival may in fact spell their doom.
Meanwhile, it's the first official Hearth's Warming Eve in Canterlot, but something is wrong in the fledgling capital of Equestria. Can Starswirl the Bearded come up with a plan to set things right?
This candy coated horror will warm your heart and chill your spine.

Candymare Cover Art by kvernikovskiy

Published 2014-12-10 19:40:16 UTC
Last updated 2014-12-10 19:40:16 UTC

Prologue

A complex spell flared into life as the old unicorn shuffled through the thin papers of an almost impossibly thick tome. The sigils and eldritch emblems hung flaming in the air as complex calculations weaved them together into a dense matrix of light. All about the tables were piles of books, beakers, and jars of colored fluids, all lit by the soft glow of many dribbling candles. The thick puddles of spent tallow on the cold stone floor that streamed from wall sconces and dripped from the laden tables gave some indication of just how long Starswirl the Bearded had been at work on this particular thermological display. It was a more mundane device however, a simple cuckoo clock, that chimed to let the old mage know that he was running late. With a grumble and a spark of light from his horn, the display was snuffed out along with the the candle flames. He moved to the single shuttered window afforded to his high tower and threw open the shutters to the cold breeze, allowing some of the smokey air from within to drift out in a tangled plumes. As his vision cleared and adjusted to the light, Starswirl gazed out across the city. Snowflakes fell through the gathering twilight, and the unicorn couldn't help but smile as his eyes fell on the great spools of ribbon and garland that so festively decorated Canterlot.

Bells rang out across the snow wrapped city, bringing merriment and a lightness of the heart to all who heard them. Canterlot was beautiful in the winter, none could deny it. Though there were many who remembered the bitter chill that had gripped their ancestral lands, even those who had every reason to shun the season had to admit that the spires of the former Alicorn citadel sparkled and shone magnificently beneath the frost. Gathering up his cloaks, Starswirl set out into the city. It had been very kind of the Alicorn's to gift the city to the unified tribes of Equestria, the old unicorn thought, as with a jingle of bells from his own wide brimmed hat the unicorn moved through the busy streets to his destination. Though he was sure that it was as much a gift to their new Princesses as to their people, having such a city as the new capital of Equestria couldn't help but bring pride to even the most jaded heart. One day he really would have to get around to finding out what land or nation it was to which the other Alicorn's had retreated. But given their great generosity, and their even greater power, he could leave them their mysteries for the time being. There were other matters of import for the fledgling nation, and it was Starswirl the Bearded's intention to guide Equestria to the best of his ability. Part of maintaining order in the new nation, the old unicorn knew, was reminding it of it's past. Already there were new generations being born who never knew a time when the tribes had been divided by distrust and disharmony, as much as by hegemony. Yet even so, lest they be lead to repeat the mistakes of the past, they would need to be educated on where it was they had come from, and just how fragile was the harmony they now enjoyed.

It had been the Princesses themselves that had suggested that a play be commissioned. They had even set aside a grand hall, almost like unto a cathedral, wondrous to behold Starswirl thought as he gazed up at the edifice. Even more so inside, as it was bedecked with boughs of holy, bright red ribbons, and garlands of evergreen for the first performance. There was hopes, to be sure, that this might become something of an annual remembrance, and Starswirl thought it was very likely given the sea of pony folk that filled the great hall from end to end. It was clear from all the bright and smiling faces that this was viewed as something of a novelty, not just for the viewing public, but by all involved. He could see the actors, every now and again, nervously twitch aside the voluminous curtains on stage to peek out at the growing crowd. It was possible that never before in the history of ponykind had anypony had such a large crowd to perform for. While the art form was not unknown in the high courts of the unicorns, the recent past had seen such performances fall out of favor. The unicorns had no time for such distractions when they were still expending their best and brightest on the raising of the sun and the moon. The pegasi, always of a more militaristic bent, saw such frivolities as a sign of weakness. Even the humble earth ponies had shunned what few traveling performers of farce and tragedy they had, for their lot in life had been farce and tragedy enough to contend with in and of itself. Of course, in the past what few plays were put on would have been for only one tribe at a time, and often only dealing with matters relevant to that tribe. Which is why Starswirl had been surprised by the Princesses suggestion, and even more surprised by how enthusiastically everypony else had supported the idea, joining in the creation of what Starswirl hoped would stand a potent symbol of harmony. A tale about coming together, despite distrust and differences, and forming unshakable bonds of friendship that would hopefully prove a shinning example to all of Equestria.

It was unfortunate then, to say the least, the look on some of the faces of those who sat in places of honor in the audience. Princess Luna and Celestia themselves were in attendance of course, wearing smiles that were just a little strained. The source of this problem was perhaps his own apprentice, Clover the Clever, who sat near them with a stormy look on her face. Clover had been by turns morose and frantic the last few days, and it was likely she viewed this play as nothing more than a distraction from the work she and Starswirl had been so dedicated to. The old unicorn thought it was better for them to take a break to enjoy the play and be reminded of all the good things that had come from the founding of Equestria, rather than dwelling on the dark problems of the moment. Then again it was possible that the problem was Commander Hurricane, who sat ramrod straight and blank faced on the other side of the Princesses, flanked by a pair of armed pegasus guards. The Commander had been distant of late, but Starswirl couldn't blame him. He hoped his friend would come around eventually, but he had always been a pegasus of action, and it was clear he'd much rather be out scouring the land for enemies rather than sitting in his officers uniform in this stuffy and loud hall. Princess Platinum and King Bullion were in attendance of course, but they wore the haughty, distant expressions of all nobility when surrounded by peasants. The only genuine smiles were worn by Smart Cookie and Chancellor Puddinghead. Of course, these last two did not yet know the reason for their other friends agitation. Starswirl would have to remedy that, but it could wait until after the play.

It was starting now. The curtains were rising up. It began with a cold wintry wind, and the gentle falling of a few flakes of snow...

Gingerbread

Overhead, the sky was a uniform white. The heavens mirrored the ground below where two ponies trod carefully. Their hooves crunched through the crust of sparkling frost and plunged down into a thick layer of dirty snow. The drifts here were old, only slightly dusted with a few dry flakes that skittered and danced across the crisp surface. Beneath a thin layer of ice hid the tangled roots and long dead brier of the sleeping forest, and these seemed to rise up like cold dead fingers to snag in the ponies cloaks. The older filly helped the colt extricate his leg, "Careful now," she cautioned. "Step where I step and the going will be easier. There's no telling what lies beneath the surface here and we can't afford to delay. We have to keep moving. We have to keep warm."

They were woefully unprepared for the circumstances they found themselves in. Both wore ragged, threadbare cloaks that did little to keep out the chill. Fortunately the old woods were thick. Most of the new snow was suspended above them, cradled in the twisted, winding limbs of the bare trees. Thick as the woods grew, this place would be lit in only patches of light and shadow even in high summer. As it was, in the dead of winter, it felt less like they were moving through a forest and more like they were traveling through a network of caves. Barely any light reached them, though the one advantage of this was that the trees blocked out most of the savage wind. They could hear it howling above as the storm raged on, and were thankful that they were spared the brunt of that vicious gale. Even so, an occasional blast of wind would scythe through the trees and bite deep into their flesh, chilling them to the bone and urging them onward in search of shelter.

"But Grety, I'm so t-tired," intoned the weary colt, his teeth chattering. "Can't we rest-t-t for just-t a m-moment-t-t-t? I can feel the ch-chill t-t-traveling up my legs, working at my bones. I fear if I do not st-stop to warm myself I shall f-f-f-freeze." Their voices sounded oddly loud in the stillness that gripped the woods, though their frigid lungs could barely manage more than a whisper. Small showers of snow fell all around them, leaking between the tree limbs above with a quiet hiss.

"If we were to stop, then we certainly would freeze, dear Hans," said the filly grimly, moving close to her brother to share some of her warmth. Gretel was a bit warmer than her brother, but only just. "Stomp in place if you must, but we have to keep going. We have to find a way out of this forest, or at least some kind of shelter before night falls. We haven't much time." Even as she said this, what little light they had beneath the canopy of snow and twisted limbs seemed to fade. The storm was growing worse. It wouldn't be long until what little illumination they had was extinguished altogether. Soon they would be in a world of nothing but darkness and snow, with not but bare tree bark for comfort and a blanket of snow to keep themselves warm. Gretel didn't want to spend another sleepless night crouched in a bush or beneath evergreen boughs bent by snow, worrying that they wouldn't have the strength to extract themselves in the morning. Or worse, worrying that her brother might stop breathing in the night, his lungs frozen from the inside out, leaving her with only his corpse for company.

X-Year X-Month X-Day
I put quill to parchment today for the first time since I was a wee filly. It was my mother who first taught me. She had been a maid servant for a rich unicorn family in her youth that expected their staff to know the ways of the writing to help teach the little lords and ladies. I find holding the quill more difficult than I remembered, but I welcome the distraction. I am keeping this journal purely for that purpose after all, as a distraction. It has been a few months now since my husband and my little pumpkin disappeared, swallowed whole by the big city or run off to warmer climes, I know not which. I'd like to think that they did not abandon me willingly, but in my weaker moments when the cold wind whistles through the cracks in the old homestead, I find that I can't blame them if they did choose to leave me behind. After all, I barely looked for them more than a few days when they first disappeared, coward that I am.

It doesn't do to dwell on such things. Even So, what few friends I have left seem to think it might help me some to get my true feelings out with this diary since I've staunchly refused to open up to them. I know I'm by no means the only widow, nor even the only mother who has lost a child in these parts, but at least those mares had bodies to bury. At least they could grieve. I feel as though I'm stuck perpetually on the verge of mourning. Yet even so, part of me expects that cabbage headed husband of mine to come through the door any moment with some tale of wild adventure or lame excuse, our little pumpkin bounding at his hooves. At this point I don't know if I would hug him or bash his head in for all this worry. Since it's just me that is likely to read this, I don't feel ashamed to say that I spend most days in the parlor here at home in hopes that I could find out which. Idle fancies I fear. Not good for a lonely heart.

My friends have suggested I try searching for them again, but I've heard terrible rumors of disappearances and death in the castle town of late. While it's possible my loved ones could be victims of the same, it would do them no good if I were to be spirited away as well and they should come home to an empty house. Would they know I had searched for them? Would they think I had abandoned them as I fear they have abandoned me? No, I can't face the city and all those horn heads looking down their noses at the mad widow wandering their streets in search of a lost husband and daughter. Like as not I'd end up in their dungeons for 'my own good'. I fear all I can do is wait, tending the farm as best I can in this unnatural cold, and hope that some day they will return to me.

Or some day I'll be brave enough to let go.

It felt like it had been days since the pair of earth ponies had lost their way. They had been traveling with their mother and father after hearing of a land to the far south, where the breezes were warm and there fell soft rains instead of sleet. Mother had cautioned not to get their hopes up. After fighting the ice and snow so long she regarded even whispers of warmth as something of a fairy tale, but even she had brightened once they had started traveling. The thought of a land full of rich, dark soil, not frozen hard and locked away beneath a layer of frost, was just too tempting to ignore. They would have to start over, but the old farm hadn't produced more than a few scraggly strawberries in months anyways, so that didn't really matter. It had been time to move on. Perhaps, it had actually been past time. Many families had already moved south before the blizzard came upon the traveling family. If only Gretel and Hansel's parents had been traveling in one of the earlier caravans instead of on their own, they might never have been separated. Then again, perhaps not. The storm had sprung up like a wall of white, distorting the land and threatening to sap the life from them. Some dark shape moved in the whiteout, and though they couldn't see what it was, the shrieks and screams of their parents told them they did not want to find out. The siblings had been extremely lucky to find the scant shelter they had in the shadows of the black forest. Even if it meant they were now hopelessly lost, at least they were still alive and still together.

Thinking about her parents made Gretel's eyes tear up, but she forced herself not to cry. It was just that there was no way of knowing for sure if her mother and father had survived. While they were hardy earth ponies, being powerfully built and used to the hardship that came with working the land, they hadn't just been fighting the cold but whatever had come swooping out of the storm. Her parents might be okay, she told herself, but she knew even if they had survived whatever attacked their caravan that even the hardiest ponies could still find themselves dead beneath a layer of snow in a matter of moment in this blizzard. She sniffled slightly, but that was all she would allow herself. She had to stay strong for her brother. Falling to pieces now would only insure their own deaths. Gathering up her brother and shielding him with her cloak the pair trudged on, searching for the path they had lost so long ago, searching for their parents, or at least hoping to find a little food and a bit of shelter.

The wind whistled mournfully overhead, a harsh accompaniment to the sound of their chattering teeth and the loud groans of their empty stomachs. Their last meal hadn't been particularly filling, the rations one eats while traveling rarely being served hot or in large amounts. Even that meager fare was deeply missed now. The pair had not found more than a few berries since becoming lost, which Gretel was sure had to be poisonous. Nothing should be so bright a shade of red in these freezing temperatures. Though it was far more likely they would die of cold and exposure before long, the angry pangs of hunger coming from their weakening bodies didn't make their fight for survival any easier. Which is why when Hans first cried, "Do you smell that Grety?" She thought they were finally going mad. The scent that came to her nostrils couldn't be possible here in the wilderness. "Gingerbread! I smell gingerbread!" Why would there be gingerbread in the middle of the forest? It didn't make any sense. Hansel, energized by the smell, dashed off through the snow following his nose.

"Wait Hans, don't rush off! We have to stay togeth-"her cry died on her lips. Her brother stood stock still just before a wide clearing. The field, or perhaps farmland for she thought she recognized the trappings of one, was perfectly frozen. A vast expanse of sparkling white beneath a sky the same blank hue almost glowed in the shadow free light. The only spot of color lay in the middle of the clearing, where stood a small cottage. This should have been cause for cheer, the curling smoke coming from the stove pipe and the light spilling from its thick windows promising warmth and safety within. Yet the entire edifice, from porch to roof was a riot of bright and chaotic color, almost as though it were made of candy instead of wood and spackle. Indeed, from the smell it didn't just look to be made of sweets, but in fact was composed of more candy than the children had seen in their entire lives. Even the 'snow', that sat on the low cottages roof and hung from it in tapering 'icicles', appeared to be made from a thick and creamy frosting. The scent of it hung heavy in the cold air, the warm sweet aroma causing their mouths to water even as they stared in wonder and amazement. "It can't be," muttered Gretel. "I'm mad. I've gone stark raving mad."

If this was some delusion or hallucination, it seemed that Hans shared it. The colt bounded across the clearing, leaving small hoof prints on the spotless snow. As soon as he reached the cottage, he immediately broke off a shingle from the low hanging roof and greedily began to gobble it down. As quick as he downed the roof tile, he might have tried to eat the entire roof if his sister had not come up and smacked the bit of gingerbread from his hooves.

"What do you think you're doing!? Going around and eating other ponies houses! You could at least ask first!" scolded his sister.

"But I'm so hungry," Hans whined.

"So am I," hissed his Gretel. "But if this place is real, we need to be cautious. Can you think of any reason somepony would build something like this in the middle of nowhere?"

"To keep it all for themselves?" hazarded her brother.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps to lure in weary and hungry travelers for their own ends." As if on cue, the front door of the cottage creaked open. A blast of warm, sweet air washed over the shivering siblings. It felt so good, Gretel thought she would melt right then and there. It seemed the door had swung open on its own, there was no pony there to greet them. Though she could resist the temptation to devour the candy cottage, her body wouldn't let her forsake the warmth of the inviting home. It didn't help matters that they were completely exposed to the wind in this clearing. When the options were to enter a warm cottage or take their chances back beneath the scant shelter of the black forest, the choice was obvious. "Be on your guard Hans," whispered his sister before calling out in a slightly louder voice. "Hello? Is anypony here? We mean you no harm, we're just two hungry travelers who got lost in the storm! We were hoping it might be alright to come in and warm our bones for a spell."

X-Year X-Month X-Day
Thank the sun and the moon and all the shining stars in the sky! My little one returned to me today! My little pumpkin!

It happened when I was in the wood on the edge of the farm, chipping away at an old oak tree for the stove. I could barely see her, as dusk was coming on and the shadows were growing thick, but I knew it was her as soon as she called out to me. She wore different cloths and seemed unsteady on her hooves, but still she had the same sweet voice of my little filly, and we embraced for so long snow had time to settle in our hair. She was so small and fragile, such a delicate thing, she barely seemed to weigh anything at all. I got her inside and next to the cherry red stove as quick as I could.

She was a ravenous little thing, which wasn't surprising since she was skin and bones, so we shared a meal. The first family meal since she disappeared! We chatted of course, though I can barely remember what about. This has all just been one huge whirlwind for me. In truth, I fear I may be dreaming, or telling a little fib to myself in my waking hours. But no, I can hear her even now, the clip clopping of her little hooves as she moves about her room bringing a warmth to my heart I've not felt in ages.

The hour is late. I can only imagine what would stir her from her slumber. Nightmares most likely, about the ordeal she went through getting home. Or perhaps what was done to her in that wicked city. I want to ask her, but part of me wonders if I really want to know the truth about what happened to her. Part of me just thinks I should be happy to have her back, and let whatever happened be. But I know that's not right. If somepony hurt my little pumpkin, as much as it sickens me even to think about, I need to know. I need to see them brought to justice for taking her away from me and doing who knows what to her. And her father! How could I have forgotten her cabbage head of a father!? Does she know what happened to him as well? Did he abandon her? I could never believe that of him, not in my wildest dreams, but then where is he? Have I regained a daughter only to lose any hope of seeing my husband ever again?

It does me no good to work myself up like this, but I know such bitter sweet thoughts will haunt my dreams tonight. I fear, like my little one, I will have a hard time sleeping. Still, I will wait until the morning to question my daughter. Undoubtedly she has been through much to return to me and I wouldn't think of tormenting her by bombarding her with questions at this late hour. Perhaps tomorrow, over breakfast. Though our food stores are running low thanks to this blasted weather, I will make a homecoming feast the likes of which nopony has eaten before!

No pony answered. It seemed whomever owned this cottage was out at the moment. The pair walked over the threshold of the cottage, closing the door gently behind them. They found themselves in what looked like a sitting room. Pictures were hung on the walls and knickknacks and bric-a-brac were strewn here and there across shelves, tables, and cabinets. While the outside had been a fantastic masterpiece of confection, the inside reminded the siblings almost hauntingly of their old homestead. Just like the outside, however, everything from the couch, to the throw rug, to the tiny crystal figurines on a shelf, all seemed to be made of candy. Even the floor beneath their hooves, though it looked like hardwood, had the consistency of fudge. They couldn't help wandering further into the tiny cottage, exploring the bizarre yet familiar home, moving towards the source of warmth and light in the next room. They moved through a hallway decorated with candy portraits and framed landscapes. These had an elementary roughness to them, that seemed less like artwork to Gretel and more like the crude drawings a young filly might create and display proudly on her bedroom wall.

Beyond the hallway they came to what looked like a kitchen. A door set in the far wall lead back outside and another doorway yawned open leading into what looked like a bedroom. There was also a set of stairs by the hall where they had entered that appeared to lead up to a loft. As had been the case so far, everything in this room seemed to be made of sweets as well. Pots and pans, knives and spoons all hung from candy cane hooks on the wall. Even the source of light and heat, the merrily crackling stove, was in the shape of a pumpkin with a wide grin for a grating. Gretel couldn't help but feel that the jack-o-lanterns eyes, with their flickering flames, were watching her. But that was a ridiculous thought, it was probably just the strange gaze of the pictures in the hall. Despite their crude nature, the lollipop eyes the portraits possessed seemed to follow her around the tiny kitchen.

"Oh hey, look what I found!" called Hansel. He'd tripped over a small handle set in the floor. As the colt bit the handle and started to lift, a section of the floor began to rise. He'd found a trap door that led down into some sort of root cellar. Just as he was about to lift it higher, so they could have a peak inside, a hoof slammed down on the door causing Hans to fall flat on his face. Gretel gasped and took an involuntary step back. She had no idea where the other pony had come from, but she was hideous! Old and wrinkled, the mare's grey hair was disheveled and hung in filthy clumps around her face. Her cloths were worse, mere rags, barely concealing her aged form and completely unsuited for the cold climate. A witch! It all made sense now! They'd stumbled into some witches enchanted cottage!

"You shouldn't be here!" She whispered urgently. "Get out! Get out now!" She advanced on the pair of children, eyes wild. For their part they backed quickly out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

X-Year X-Month X-Day
I place pen to parchment once again, though weakly. Still, I must get these words down, lest the thoughts in my head burst out of their own accord and fly off on gossamer wings from my fevered brain. I have fallen ill. The suddenness and severity of my malady is worse than any I've experienced before in my life. I find myself dizzy and delirious by turns, unable to so much as rise from my bed for fear of what I might see, what I might hear. The smells are the worst, and sometimes I'm not sure if they are real or imagined. But I'm running away from my fears even as I try to put them to paper. I must not falter. I must face the things I dread.

My daughter is not my daughter. I know that sounds strange and like the ravings of a diseased mind, but I swear now that this is something I've suspected ever since she returned home. At first I tried to explain it away as a product of whatever ordeal she had been through. Whenever I asked about what had happened to her, she was vague and evasive. Even more so when I asked after her father and what had become of him. She was never one for telling lies before, but I fear she's lying to me now when she says she doesn't know what became of him. There's something in her eyes that makes me think she knows exactly what happened to Cabbage Patch. And those eyes, were they always that faded a shade of green? Was her scarlet mane always so wild and unmanageable? I remember once her happy voice filled our home with joy as she sang little songs she had made up to entertain herself. Now she only sings one song, over and over just under her breath between giggling fits. Either the ordeal my child has been through has driven her slightly mad or...

Or I fear something darker.

From my mother I heard tales of creatures that once plagued the pony tribes. They were beasts that took the faces of your loved ones and took their place, made you believe they were the genuine article and then slowly drained their victims love away. Is it possible one such creature stole the face of my child and used it to worm its way into my home, into my heart? Is that why I've fallen so desperately ill and my daughter seems so strange? If it were true, I'm not sure how I'd really feel. I know I should be outraged, but I was so happy to have her back, even if it is all just a lie. Such treacherous feelings make it difficult for me to know what to believe.

There are reasons to doubt these suspicions of course. For instance, how would such a creature learn of my loss? Most of my neighbors have moved away, trying to escape the bitter cold. And why choose my daughter instead of my husband? While it's true I love my baby girl, no one can say I did not love my husband truly. I fear these thoughts make me doubt exactly how truly, and that's something which I wish not to dwell on in my sick bed.

Truth be told it's not just my daughter that is strange to me these days, but the very house itself. I feel like a stranger in my own home. Doors seem to appear and disappear from day to day. I swear the forest looks somehow closer at night, though even I realize it's foolish to think the trees have moved. But the voices, the screams, drifting from those dark woods. Am I truly imagining those? Am I dreaming? They're almost as awful as the strange smells that flood the house when I'm trying to sleep. Sometimes it's achingly sweet, sweeter than the fields in spring time with all the flowers in bloom. Other times it's putrid, like the worst rot and decay you could imagine, all mildewed and festering like the underside of a dried up bog.

I know the simplest explanation is not that my daughter is secretly a monster, or my old homestead has taken on a life of its own. I know that the fault must lie with me, but I've never been this sick before. This lost in my own home. My own head.

We're running low on food. Or at least we should be. For all my complaints about her strangeness, my little pumpkin has been dutiful in caring for me. She brings me a hot bowl of stew for most meals, though for the life of me I know not what she's using for ingredients. It's thick and rich and a little creamy, no doubt very nourishing as well. It's nothing I ever taught her how to make. Even so, that's hardly something to be suspicious about is it?

I hear her coming back now. I think she's fetching me an extra blanket before I try to get a little more rest. I must hide this diary. I wouldn't want my sweet daughter to ever read these words. I don't want her to know her mother's crazy delusions.

"I'm s-sorry ma'am. We didn't know you were home. We were just trying to find a place to warm ourselves," said Gretel, trying to account for themselves as she drew her brother protectively close.

"And have a bite to e-e-eat," stammered Hans. She elbowed her brother hard in the ribs.

That seemed to cause the old hag to pause. "Eat?" she muttered, leaning uncomfortably close as the children found their backs against a wall, "Eat did you say? Have you two eaten something?"

"No!""Yes!" they cried in unison, both terrified. Gretel knew what happened to folk who lied to witches, the stories always said they were turned into toads! Though the cold outside already bit her flanks hard, she couldn't imagine what it would be like in the slimy skin of a toad. She didn't want to find out, so she blurted, "My brother ate a piece of your cottage, but please don't be angry! We're both just so very hungry ma'am. He didn't know any better."

That caused the old mare to snort, though her eyes lost some of their wildness to sadness. "No, no I believe you child. I doubt very much the little tyke knew what he was doing," she whispered bitterly. Without warning she suddenly grabbed Hansel and hauled him back into the kitchen. "Git while you still can girl, and never come back. Your brother is lost to you. Better you die in the snow than see what fate awaits him here."

"Sis!" cried Hans as the filthy mare drug him to the very trap door he had found before. The hag flung it open revealing its dark depths to the fire light as she flung the boy inside. Without thinking, Gretel leaped in after him.

"No you stupid filly! You don't want to go down there!" The witch hadn't raised her voice the entire time, though she had whispered frantically. Now, however, she screeched loud enough to wake the dead. By the stove light that filtered in from above, Gretel thought she could see why. Down here in the darkness, hanging from candy cane hooks and piled on marzipan trestles, was one pony carcass after another. Some had been skinned and smoked, their headless bodies hanging from the ceiling. Others still lay mostly intact, soaking in barrels of salt or brine, their eyes milky and faces stretched by rigor mortis grins. They were mostly children. Fillies and colts, a few tiny foals, all stretched and splayed and dripping as far as the eye could see in the flickering light. Gretel was going to be sick. Hans, for his part, already was. He was vomiting, violently, a dark mixture of gingerbread and blood. She had to get him out of here, now! Grabbing her brother, she tried to pull him back up the ladder. The hag met her at the top.

"Move you witch, you beast! You're not going to have me and my brother for your sick larder! Move or I'll break every brittle bone in your shriveled old body!" The filly howled with anger and fear, meaning every word. To her surprise, the old mare backed away and let her up into the kitchen.

"You don't understand, you don't understand. You have to leave him! It's the only way! Leave him and run!" The old hag was frantic, pawing the floor with her hooves, strands of her filthy hair sticking to her cracked lips. Just then, the soft sound of children's laughter echoed from the loft above. The change in the old hag was immediate, every inch of her shivering as if she were gripped by a terrible chill. To Gretel's amazement, the disheveled mare began to weep.

"What's that then? More victims? More foals to your slaughter!?" the young filly cried, backing herself and Hansel towards the nearest exit.

"No child. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Blubbered the old mare like an injured child. "That's not the lamb you hear bleating. That's the wolf! The wolf!" she screamed insanely.

X-Year X-Month X-Day
Am I still ill? My fever broke some time ago. I'm still a little weak, but I'm strong enough to move about the house. A bitter storm rages outside as I write this, and has for a few days now. Or has it been longer? Time has lost its meaning for me. Part of me wants to go out, just to get a breath of fresh air. The stench of this house, what I realize to be the smell of my own sickness, assaults my nostrils constantly. You'd think I would have grown used to it by now, but every now and again, some stealthy vapor or gentle gust of perfumed air will tickle my nose, and I will feel the same sickness and revulsion as before creeping over me.

My daughter has been staying away from me by my express command. Whatever ailment I had, I didn't want to risk her catching it as well. I couldn't stand the thought of losing her to illness after so recently having her returned to me.

At least, that's how I felt at first. I'm sure that's what I meant.

Only, once she was no longer fussing over me, that's when I started to feel a little better. I fear my mind, however, began to wander even more. What was she doing, while the storm howled outside? Where was she getting fresh wood to keep the house so warm and toasty? Where was she getting the food, that I know now must be all but exhausted. The rich stew she left at my bedroom door was always piping hot and just as good as my first spoonful. Was she actually weathering the storm to keep me in such comfort? How could her tiny, fragile frame withstand the bitter cold?

She is at her least active during the day, instead moving about the house the most at night. Once I was no longer drifting in and out of sleep, I stayed up of a night, just to listen. I don't know what drove me. Insomnia? Paranoia? All I know is that I swear I heard the front door open and close in the dead of night. A silence fell over the house that chilled me to the bone. I swear I could hear her tiny voice drifting beneath my window. For the first time I listened, really listened to the words of the song she sings to herself when she thinks I can't hear. It wasn't until that song, that laughter, had dwindled into the distance that I dared rise from my bed and lock my bedroom door.

That settles it I'm afraid. She is no daughter of mine. She is a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Gretel turned to spring out the back door... And slammed into a blank wall. Where there had been a door before, there was nothing but a smooth surface. She whirled back around. The entire kitchen had changed. Gone were the doors leading from it and the trapdoor that had hid the nightmare below. The entire room seemed to twist and distort as she watched, stretching and shrinking like a living thing. Everything had taken on a more sinister light, even the ovens goofy pumpkin grin had turned into a sinister, sharp toothed smile. Gretel could have sworn that she could see faces leering from within the flames. "Witch!" she cried, "I don't know what magic this is, but you'd best let me and my brother go! I'm warning you! Our parents are sure to be looking for us!"

"It's not my choice!" screamed the old crone between sobs. "I would if I could...I would if I could..." she broke down crying.

The entire kitchen seemed to warp and move. Candies detached from places all over the room slithered to a spot just behind the old mare. Bit by bit, piece by piece, something took shape at her side. In a blink a filly, made entirely out of sweets, stood by the weeping biddy. The strange creature raised a hoof and stroked the hags sticky hair. "Shhh...there, there. Did these nasty foals make you cry?" hissed the filly in a soft echoing voice. "Don't worry, they'll disappear soon enough." The filly giggled as the crones head sank into her hooves. The creature's candy swirled eyes flashed behind bits of her red and black liqourice mane, "Hello boys and girls! Would you like something sweet to bite?"

Gretel didn't know what was going on, but she had to find a way out, if not for herself then for her brother. At that moment, Hans slumped at her side. "I don't feel so good Grety," he muttered before more blood and vomit shot from his mouth. He fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Gretel started screaming as she watched her little brothers flesh pop and tear, skin ripping to tattered shreds before her eyes. She watched, helpless and disbelieving, as something shiny and sweet slithered from the fleshy sheath that had been Hansel. The knew colt, that looked much like Hans save for being composed entirely of gingerbread, grinned cheerfully at his former sister. It's gumdrop eyes sparkled as it moved towards her, and took a bite from her rosy cheek. The filly flung herself back, still screaming as she held a hoof over the ragged wound on her face. This was a nightmare! It had to be a nightmare! As if reading her mind, the candy filly began to sing mockingly.

"Nightmare Night! Oh what a Fright!" she giggled. "Time for Something Sweet to Bite!" It was then that it dawned on Gretel just what was happening. The Candy Mare! Every filly had heard the stories of foals led astray by sweets, never to be heard from again. Every colt had whispered to his friends of dark and devious tricks, that often ended in death, played on the unsuspecting in the middle of dark nights. And of course on one night especially, Nightmare Night, when the farmers and villagers from all over the land would leave out peace offerings and lock themselves tight inside their homes until daybreak. But that had been months ago! Why was the Candy Mare here? What was going on!?

X-Year X-Month X-Day
I pray that I have gone mad.

I dare not write in the dark, for I know I am never alone in darkness. It is the bright of day outside, or at least I think it must be. The light that filters fitfully through the clouds above seems like daylight to me. The world outside my window is nothing but dull grey and white for as far as I can see, but even so it's not nearly as bleak as my home has become. Nothing makes sense in this place anymore.

I wonder sometimes, have I died? Is this Tartarus? Is this house meant to be my prison for the rest of eternity? Is my daughter my smiling jailer? Every time I think of escape, the doors lead to new rooms or blank walls, never outside. The windows too are fastened tight, and try as I might I cannot break the thick glass. How I wish I could break off just one tiny shard. How I long for even a glimpse of freedom, even if it came at the edge of a piece of glass.

There are so many things I regret now. I regret agreeing to let my little girl go to the castle town. I regret not being there to protect her. I regret welcoming her home. Or rather, whatever this thing is that wears her smile, sings with her voice, and smells of death and candy. I regret knowing what it is I've been eating these past months. Knowing that if I try to stop eating, she'll force feed me. I regret hearing them, crying under the floor boards. I regret not being able to do anything for them. Not being able to do anything for myself. I regret going down into the cellar in the first place, seeing that thing crawl out of the pony I had mistook for my daughter. She came sliding effortlessly out of the dead girls lifeless mouth, and writhing into the shape of another filly altogether in the darkness. I regret seeing her, smiling and laughing, as she gorged herself on the poor unfortunates that shivered, broken in the dark below my house. Candy teeth gleaming dully beneath a bloody sheen.

I had heard whispers about the disappearances at the castle town, it's true, but I hadn't believed them. A pony made of candy that lures away children, that plays evil little tricks, that can take down a grown stallion and strip the flesh from his bones in moments with a candy corn smile. Foolishness. Rumor and poppycock.

I regret not believing.

I regret being alive.

Gretel didn't know what she expected to happen next, but watching the candy filly swell in size and crash into the Gingerbread Hansel in a wave of teeth and claws was not it. The thing that used to be Hans squealed and gave a warbling shriek as hunks of it's body were devoured greedily. The sound was all the more gut-wrenching since Gretel could hear bits and pieces of her little brothers voice buried in those distorted screams. Before her eyes the Candy Mare devoured the gingerbread abomination and licked up the gory pile of what had once been her brother. The sick scene left her speechless. What could she do against such a bizarre creature? There was no escape, no hope. What was she supposed to do!?

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," muttered the old hag over and over as the Candy Mare licked blood from it's smile with a long taffy tongue. But the monster wasn't done. It's liquorice hair moved of its own accord, like a living thing, snaking across the kitchen floor and wrapping around each of Gretel's limbs before she could so much as blink. She could feel the candy biting deep into her flesh, breaking the skin. Panicking, she tried desperately to shake off the monsters vice like grip, but it was far too late. The tendrils of candy lifted her into the air, almost bringing her up to the ceiling, droplets of her blood falling with a pitter-patter to the floor below.

"Now, don't blubber so," this was to the old pony, though the Candy Mare never took her eyes off the filly in her clutches. Those terrifying, mad candy swirled eyes moving hungrily over her body. "It's been a long time since I've cooked for you, and even longer since you've had a hot meal. I think it will cheer us both up, don't you?" Saying that, the candy monster drug Gretel forcefully across the ceiling until she was right above the blazing stove. The jack-o-lantern's smile had turned completely into a hungry maw, the flames within leaping excitedly as if they too were starving. Bit by bit, the Candy Mare lowered the young pony carefully over the flames. The fire hissed as Gretel's blood dribbled down her limbs and into the fiery mouth, but that only made the fire leap higher to sear her blistering flesh. The pain was excruciating, making her scream between sobs, her frantic writhing useless as she struggled to loosen the grip of the tendrils. Her tiny hooves kicking in the air, a coughing fit burst from her throat as her mane and tail began to singe, then to burn. She could feel the blisters swelling and popping on her legs as they came closer and closer to the heat, the sores bursting and dripping more blood over the pumpkin stoves grin. The Candy Mare captor only laughed, in delight and insanity, as Gretel roasted.

Eventually, the flames engulfed her completely, a long tongue of fire licking through her tail and into her mane. The flames quickly washed over the rest of her body. Gretel could feel her skin peel away and her muscles tighten as most of the moisture in her body began to escape from her steaming flesh. The Candy Mare's own liquorice whip hair melted away in the heat, allowing Gretel to fall unceremoniously into the oven. Her world turned into a wall of orange light. Oddly, the pain seemed to fade away, the agony transmuting into a coldness that gripped her to her core. A thought came to her pain numbed mind that even in the heart of so hot a flame, even at death's door, Gretel couldn't escape the cold. As her eyes popped, melting and running down her cheeks, her brain flashed images and sounds that were strange to her dying senses. Her brain at last succumbed to the heat, she almost contentedly wondered why it was taking so long to die. As she felt her awareness fading, she couldn't help but wonder what was that delicious smell?

Intermission

So far it seemed that the performance was well received. Luna and Celestia certainly seemed to have been absorbed by the story, their uncomfortable expressions melting away as the tale had unfurled. Starswirl was glad of the break as it gave him a chance to see how others in the crowded hall were reacting. It was clear the play was already something of a hit with the rest of the crowd, as there were many excited whispers shared about what had been seen in hushed tones while a few other ponies attended to more urgent matters such as visiting the garderobe. That seemed to be where Smart Cookie and Chancellor Puddinghead had wandered off to, or perhaps to purchase some festive concessions from the vendors out in the street. Princess Platinum was taking the chance to chat with Princess Luna. Though the two had something of a shaky first meeting, they had since become fast friends. The royal unicorn had even gone so far as to fill the Castle of the Pony Sisters with many beautiful tapestries of exquisite quality. Starswirl had to admit he had not expected the alicorn sisters and the mildly spoiled unicorn to get along so well, but he was relieved to see that they were still getting along just fine.

Commander Hurricane still sat as straight as ever, either unable or stubbornly refusing to relax, but there had been a certain wistfulness to his eyes as he had watched the play. Starswirl was almost certain he had seen the beginnings of a tear, before they were quickly hidden by concealing feathers and an agitated sigh. It hurt Starswirl to see his friend like this, but he knew better than to try and talk to him now. It was better to let the pegasus deal with his grief in his own way, rather than to force his own advice on him like some old fool, no matter how much he wanted to do just that. On the other hoof, there was the matter of his apprentice. Clover the Clever had sulked all throughout the performance, one of the few in the audience that did not laugh at the well told jokes, or even so much as gasp at the more harrowing twists and turns. It was true she had lived through the events this performance pantomimed, but that was not enough to account for her sullen nature. No, Starswirl knew exactly what it was that occupied his star pupils mind.

"Is the play not to your liking Clover? I thought the simulated windigos you crafted were rather impressive," Starswirl hazarded, a brave sally that was met with a blank stare. "The spell work must have been most intricate to shape simple ice shards into such convincing shapes," he finished lamely.

"Not really," replied the unicorn. The dark circles around her eyes told a troubled tale about just how much sleep she hadn't been getting lately. "Crafting convincing simulacra is easy when the particles are small enough." She smiled bitterly, "Though even the short amount of work spent on this parlor trick seems like a heinous waste of our time and talents. As is this entire play. Do I really need to stay here Starswirl? I think there are far more important things we could be doing at the moment and I'm sure you agree."

"We've been over this Clover," said Starswirl, not unkindly. "A break could do us both some good. Even if you refuse to rest your body, you should at least rest your mind. I find at times when I'm stumped it some times helps to step back from the problem and allow my mind to consider other matters, or perhaps to consider nothing at all. Sometimes the answer to a dilemma will occur out of the blue, if you just clear your mind. Obsessing like this isn't healthy."

"Obsessing? You think I'm obsessing!?" cried Clover the Clever. "We've been working for weeks, side by side and still we're no closer to a solution! Why wouldn't I be obsessed when the lives of everypony in Equestria may be on the line!?"

"Lower your voice my apprentice," rebuked the elder unicorn harshly, a flash of magic suffusing his eyes, uncharacteristically stern. Realizing that others were turning their heads towards the outburst, he mollified his tone, but continued in hushed words, "The crowd may be noisy, but there are still those who are near enough to overhear. Do you really want to risk causing a panic in this crowded theater? I meant no offense to you, you are as dedicated and true an apprentice as an old fool like myself could ever hope for, but you must realize that you're not behaving like yourself."

"Is that why you insisted I be here then?" She responded icily, "So you could tell me this in a crowded room where I wouldn't dare make a scene? I thought better of you."

"No Clover, I wanted you to be here so you could see what you once were. Yes I admit that this performance is mere frivolity, but it chronicles an important period not only in Equestria's history, but your own. I had hoped that seeing this would remind you of who you are, of the special things you had and still have, despite what you've lost." The warning that the play was about to resume went out over the audience. There was a mild rush of the crowd to resume their seats, though the bustle and excitement seemed the furthest thing from Clover the Clever and Starswirl the Bearded at this moment. "Your friends wouldn't want to see you this way, so absorbed in your work that you don't even have time to feel, to mourn. She most certainly wouldn't want to see you ignore your own well being for her sake."

Clover stared at the floor, her eyes hidden by her hood and the fringe of her mane. Even so, Starswirl thought he saw something glistening fall to the floor. "I know. I know okay? But there's nothing I can do for her now. I have to think of everypony else. We have to think of everypony else. I don't have time to selfishly fall apart, and it's wrong of you to suggest that I should. Everypony deals with these things in their own way. I know I might just be distracting myself right now, but you have no right to tell me not to. I will grieve when this threat has been put to an end. In the meantime, if you have anymore sage advice, I suggest you start with Commander Hurricane. Unless you want a witch hunt on your hooves, that is."

The old unicorn was taken aback by that, "What ever do you mean?"

"I forget sometimes, for all your wisdom, you're just as bad as I am when it comes to some things," said Clover with something approaching a smirk. "You've had your head buried in that journal even more than I have, haven't you? How could anypony expect you to notice that the construction of Cloudsdale has been completely stalled? The pegasi are busy with other matters these days Starswirl, there's only a skeleton crew tending to Equestria's weather. And this cold?" she said, turning puffy eyes up towards her teacher, "It's not entirely their doing, I'm afraid."

Starswirl had no time to consider the ramifications of what his apprentice had said before the lights were lowered and the play resumed. He couldn't help but stare hard at Commander Hurricane as the curtains were drawn back and the actors took the stage. It was true that his friend had been hurt, perhaps worse than anypony else by what had happened, but surely he wouldn't abandon his duty to pursue some personal vendetta? That was nothing like the loyal and dutiful pegasus he had known. However, as the actress who played the role of Private Pansy took the stage, a look came over the Commander's face that Starswirl had never seen before. It was there in a flash and gone in an instant, but it was unmistakable. It was a look less of wistfulness and more of intense regret. And perhaps more than a little longing.

Frosting

How much longer was she expected to live with this? She hated this creature, this Candy Mare, this thing that had pretended to be her daughter. It delighted in slaughtering children, in causing suffering and pain. She would destroy it if she could, but so far she couldn't think of any way it could be done. What could you do to candy to hurt it? Eat it? You'd just suffer the same fate as that poor little colt, turned into a candy monstrosity destined to be devoured by the original at best or, worse, used as a freakish puppet for her amusement. Burn it? She watched as bits of the Candy Mare's melted liquorice hair rolled across the floor to rejoin its mistress. No, she'd thought of every possible way she could to put an end to this living nightmare and come up with nothing even remotely worth trying. Honestly she couldn't fathom why the monster didn't simply devour her like all the others. Instead...

Instead she did horrible things like this. The table was set for two, but the Candy Mare's plate was already empty, save for smears of fresh blood. Her own, of course, was still full. She knew she couldn't keep stalling. She could see it in the Candy Mare's eyes as they leered at her from beneath her writhing mane. She was expected to eat. If she didn't soon, the cruel creature would force her.

The little filly was still alive, if you could call her sorry state a form of life. Bits and pieces of her squirmed energetically on the dinner plate, her charred body having been skillfully chopped up and served wriggling in a gravy made from her own boiling blood. The Candy Mare had made sure to carve off a large hunk of the living-dead ponies flank, the pink juices seeping from the steaming flesh threatening to spill over the thin plate. "Eat up," crooned the candy creature. "It's getting colder outside. You need to keep up your strength. This little filly, bathed in the flames of a thousand souls has been imbued with a portion of my life force. It should be enough to give you back a little of the health you've lost trying to starve yourself to death."

She had refused to eat for days now. It hadn't been the first time though. She'd tried to just die, to succumb to hunger so many times, but the Candy Mare wouldn't let her. She didn't know how many times she'd tried, but her body was starting to rebel. The hunger pains and the delirium they brought were beginning to weigh heavily on the old mare. Though a bit of the little girl squirmed on the end of her fork, she couldn't bring the morsel of flesh to her lips. Heaven help her, the horrid meat did smell good. It had all smelled good when it was served to her in steaming bowls of stew. Why hadn't she realized back then what she had been doing? The Candy Mare hadn't let her leave the cottage in weeks, only leaving her alone long enough to go out and lure back more 'meat' for their larder. This wasn't the first child served like this to her on a silver platter. "Why do you keep doing this? You know I don't want to eat this. You know it's repulsive. That it sickens me. That I hate it. That I hate you!"

"Yes. But that's only because you haven't given it a chance," grinned the fiend. "I didn't think I would like it either, but the taste grew on me in time. I was tricked the first time I ate anypony, you know. I have to say, the flavor isn't that different, raw or cooked, but the texture varies quite significantly." At that, the Candy Mare took a delicate bite of a portion of the charred fillies shoulder. Gretel's decapitated head, still semi-conscious, sat eyeless with a candy apple jammed in its mouth. The horrible severed head moaned softly despite the fake bright red fruit, charred flesh still steaming around her lips. It was hard to tell if the unearthly sound was one of pain or pleasure, or even perhaps both. The old mare didn't care to speculate. She kept hoping that insanity would grip her mind and leave her insensible to all the horror around her. Sadly, she had remained stubbornly sane.

"You're a monster," the crone whispered as tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.

"And you're a helpless old mare, starving to death in the heart of an unending winter!" Shouted the Candy Mare, slamming her hooves into the table. "How many years has it been now? How many more will it be before you accept that I'm the only one who cares if you survive? The unicorns have abandoned this land, the pegasi and other earth ponies too. There's no pony that can save you but me! Why won't you just let me take care of you mother?" asked the candy coated cannibal in exasperation.

"You know why!" the hag howled, louder than she had intended. She continued, quieter, conserving her strength, "You know why. I am not your mother. You're the reason they disappeared. My husband. My little girl! I've figured it out. It was you! You're the one that made them disappear!"

"You're so sure of that, are you?" chuckled the Candy Mare, though from the expression on her sugar dusted face it didn't seem like she thought it was very funny.

"Everypony knows you're responsible for the disappearances at the castle town. Just tell me what happened to them. Did you kill them? Did you eat them?" The old mare paused, hoping against hope that somehow they had been spared that misery. Sadly she couldn't doubt such a fate. "I wouldn't be surprised. Or did they escape you? Did you leave them cowering in some hole somewhere for a late night snack? Just tell me! What happened to Cabbage and Pumpkin Patch!?" howled the crone, giving into her emotions once again.

The Candy Mare's eyes flickered, and just like that all the life seemed to fade from her. Her mane hung limp from her sugar skull and she didn't so much as twitch. Piece by piece, the candy that coated the cottage was stripped away, flowing back into the Candy Mare. Soon the kitchen was dark and lonely, the only light coming from the banked embers in the very normal looking stove. With the candy coating now removed the old mare could see the sticky blood that coated every surface, though if it belonged to the Candy Mare or the innocents she had slaughtered, it was impossible to say. Even the light from the kitchen window was washed a crimson hue as the fading light outside just barely managed to seep through the scarlet stains. The red glow spread over the monster that sat shivering at the dinner table, as bit by bit, the candy that composed her body turned within. This wasn't anything the old mare had ever seen her do before. As the candy continued to peel away, she could see tiny misshapen hooves, pale skin stretched over a bony form, and a listless red mane that hung in greasy strips from a tiny shrunken skull. Her eyes, bright green and almost glowing in the dying light from the window, turned to the old mare and made her breath catch in her throat. This couldn't be!

"You want to know what happened to me and daddy so badly? Fine. I'll tell you mama," whispered the broken child sadly, "We went to the castle town and it was everything I had imagined. Only the pony daddy and I were supposed to meet there was a very, very bad unicorn. He took me away from daddy and forced me to do things, things I'd rather not talk about. One of those things I don't want to talk about is him forcing me to eat daddy. He'd killed him, and left him rotting in a midden heap like a dead dog, but that didn't stop him from carving daddy up and serving him to me." Her eyes flickered again, candy swirled madness threatening to crawl back into her eyes. She shook herself and continued. "He'd done horrible things to me. Rotted my teeth, my mind, and my body. However, being tricked into eating daddy, that was too much for me to take. Do you want to know the worst part? He didn't taste half bad. I was so ashamed because compared to everything else I'd been forced to do, eating pony flesh, even that of my father, was actually enjoyable! I liked it! I liked it a lot!"

A deep, terrifying groan rose from the old timbers of the rotting cottage. At first the old mare thought the house was on the verge of collapsing, before she realized that the sound was coming from her own mouth. Her mind was frozen. She didn't want to believe, she didn't want to think it was true. But the evidence sat shivering right in front of her, bereft of the bright colored mantel it wore to conceal itself from the rest of the world. Her husband had died cruelly, but that was merciful compared to her daughters fate.

"I got a taste for it then and, as you know, daddy was only the first pony I ate. That bad unicorn kept pushing me, experimenting on me, trying to break me. But I was already broken! So I ate. I ate and ate and ate to grow strong! The more I ate, the stronger I got. And then I ate that pitiful, rancid little unicorns life! I couldn't stop there mama. You were right. The unicorns didn't care about us, the pegasi wouldn't defend us, and our fellow earth ponies were content to turn a blind eye to all the injustice that we suffered instead of trying to help us, or even help themselves. So why not kill the rest? Why not eat them too? Why not grow strong off the lives of all those terrible ponies? Why should we suffer in the cold and the dark when we can live and live and live and live to kill them all! We can make them suffer the way we've been made to suffer!" Candy and light flooded the cottage again as the sugar coating crept back out of her daughters dead form and engulfed the room. Warmth and sweet scents and terrible laughter assaulted the old mare from all sides. The Candy Mare's fragile form, sheathed in sweets once more, rose from where she had been sitting and came to her side. Her daughter came to her side. The smile on little girls new face was at once predatory and pleading. "You see now, don't you mother? We have to eat to grow strong. We have to make them pay for all they've done to us. I know what the unicorns did to grandma, how you came to hate them for having forced you on her, for making her bare the bastard daughter of the master of the house. You were right to hate them! And it's that hatred that will make you strong! The more I feed you, the more you eat... Very soon, you will be just like me."

Those last words froze the blood in the old mares heart. The moan in her throat turned to a rattling rasp as all the air left her lungs. The decapitated head on the serving plate seemed to look up at her with eyeless pity. Even without eyes, the dead could see just how terrible the fate was that her own daughter had planned out for her. It was true, she had always hated the unicorns and pegasi, but each of the tribes had hated the others. It had always been that way. Though her daughter had been sweet and innocent, it was that hatred that had helped poison and twist her. That had helped to shape her into the creature she was now. She was her mothers daughter, after all, and the sick irony wasn't lost on Strawberry Patch.

A sharp stab in her chest,, a wave of panic, and then a sigh of relief. This revelation had been too much for a mothers heart to take. The old mare slumped forward in her chair and was still.

"Mother? Are you okay?" The candy coated filly nuzzled her mother's side. "The foods getting cold mama, this is no time to nap. Please, didn't you hear what I said before? You have to live, so you have to eat... you have to. Mother?"

A distant wail cut through the snowy stillness, causing Private Pansy to shiver. Though the storm had raged for the better part of a day and a night now, it was beginning to slacken. Commander Hurricane had charged this platoon of pegasi with the evacuation effort, and storm or no storm, they would do their duty. Though they had been able to subdue the Windigos in the new found nation of Equestria, they seemed to be far too numerous and powerful here in the Northern farmlands to drive completely away. Private Pansy didn't really want to think about what that must mean about the hatred and distrust the simple farm folk must feel for the other pony tribes. She was only here to observe the proceedings on the Commander's orders and to remind the other troops that they were supposed to treat the earth ponies with kindness, tolerance, and friendship when possible.

It had been hard enough convincing the earth ponies they could trust the pegasus platoon. The only interaction many of them had ever had with a pegasus before were the sometimes harsh negotiations over weather and crop yields. Private Pansy had thought many times, before the troubles, that it seemed rather silly to threaten to restrict the farmers ability to grow food unless they provided a large share of that self same food supply to the pegasi. Obviously they had no choice but to comply, but what if they hadn't? What if they had all refused to share any food, or even to grow it, so long as the pegasi made such demands? They would've all starved. It really wasn't any wonder the Windigos had come to bedevil the pony tribes. Thinking about it, it was no surprise they'd be thickest around the ponies who had been the most down trodden, who had the most reason to hate the other tribes. It made Pansy's heart ache if she thought about it too much.

Still, such thoughts put things in perspective when, during a particularly nasty squall, the troop had approached a small wagon to render aid and the simple farmers had responded with panic. While it was true that visibility was poor, once they established they were no threat, the earth ponies had still been angry and distraught. Apparently in the commotion their children had run away to escape the perceived threat, and now had likely become lost in the forest. They had been searching for a night and the better part of the next day, trying to find the lost tots and reunite them with their parents. Many of the soldiers were grumbling that the whole thing was a farce, that there were no children and that this was just a wild goose chase, the earth ponies idea of a joke. Private Pansy, for her part, felt the parents distress was genuine. No one would cry as they had in this cold if they could keep from it, lest they lose part of their face to frostbite.

Lost in her thoughts, Private Pansy found herself wandering away from the rest of the platoon and deeper into the darkened woods. Another wail cut through the frosty forest. Though it sounded no less unearthly than before, this time it was followed swiftly by a new sound, the distant warbling sobs of a crying child. It must be the little lost children, Private Pansy thought to herself. How did they manage to get so far away from the road in this storm? I better call the others. But when she tried to retrace her steps, she found that no other pegasi were nearby. Flying above the forest canopy did no good either, as though the storm had slackened, visibility was still poor above the tree line. For better or worse, Private Pansy would have to rescue the children on her own.

Steeling what courage the slight pegasus could muster, the flyer pressed deeper into the forest, until she came to a wide clearing. Everything was coated in thick and ancient snow drifts, save for a distant, dilapidated farmhouse. That struck Private Pansy as odd, given how the storm had raged before, even a truly industrious pony wouldn't have been able to clear off a cottage of even this small size without constant vigilance. Given the abandoned and disheveled appearance of the warped timbers, it was unlikely any pony had cared for the house in some time. Even so, there it was again, the distant sounds of children weeping caught on a gust of frigid wind. It wasn't so distant anymore. She flew over the crust of snow and landed in front of the cabin door. Sure enough, she could hear the crying, slightly muffled, just on the other side of the door. Not wanting to startle anypony, she politely knocked. "Hello, Pegasus Patrol. Anypony home?" A thought crossed her mind, about abandoned shacks and crying children, "I warn you, if you've hurt anypony, it will go easier for you if you give yourself up peacefully." There was no answer. Even the sobs seemed to have paused, before resuming their steady cadence. Pansy reached out to knock again and was surprised when the door creaked open under her hoof.

Inside, the farmhouse was cold and just as ramshackle as the outside. Knickknacks and other bric-a-brac cluttered broken down and stained furniture. Here and there the remnants of a picture frame still hung on the wall, though whatever scene the frames once held seemed to have been torn to shreds long ago. The peeling wallpaper and dusty floor were covered here and there with dark, unidentifiable stains that Private Pansy didn't want to think about. She found herself suddenly wishing she had tried harder to find the rest of the platoon. Maybe the best course of action was to step back outside the cottage door and go get some back up. After all, who knew how many ponies could be lurking in the murky depths of the farm house? Who knew what they might do to Pansy if they caught her. Then again, who knew what they had been doing to the children?

A sudden heart-breaking wail made Private Pansy's decision for her. Without hesitation, she bound down the hallway and into what seemed like it had once been a kitchen. It was hard to tell under all the blood. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, the entire room seemed to be drenched in blood both old and new. Even the windows were soaked, lending a sanguine light to the room from the fitful illumination outside. The rancid rotting scent hit Pansy like a punch to the nose, making her gag and her eyes water. There were still bits and pieces of something wriggling in the scarlet mess. Bizarrely, there was a table, perfectly set for two with knives and forks neatly arraigned around bloody serving dishes and plates. Only this table seemed to have remained untouched by whatever had happened in this room. The table, and the tiny sobbing form that was curled up beneath it. "Mommy..." cried the child quietly.

"H-hello? Are you okay?" asked Private Pansy, trying not to gag. "Are you Gretel or Hansel? Your parents are worried sick about you. They sent me to bring you home." The crying only increased, soft sobs giving way to wails once more. "Shh... I don't know what happened, but we should get you out of here. There's no telling when they might be back, we need to hurry."

"I lost her," Pansy thought she heard the filly say between sobs. "I lost my mommy!"

"It's okay, I can get you back to your mother. Everything is going to be fine."

"No it's not!" screamed the child as it's head twisted around on it's spine to glare at Pansy with empty eye sockets. Thick red tendrils, like writhing worms, spilled out from the eyeless void, reaching towards the startled pegasus. It was only her military training that kept her from being snatched by the grasping crimson tethers. "Nothing will ever be fine again!" Exploded the filly, howling in many voices. Her tiny body ripped and tore as something burst forth from within, ripping to pieces what was clearly the rotten and dead body of a little filly from within. A sugary scent mixed with the stench of rotting meat and putrefied blood filled the room as a mare made of candy flipped the table and sent it clattering to splinters against the wall. "My father! My mother! They both abandoned me! Left me in this rotten world with all these rotten ponies! I tried so hard! I tried to be a good little girl, I tried to protect my mother, but she died just the same. Just like everypony else in this filthy, rotten world!" Rainbow colored tears gathered at the corners of the Candy Mare's lollipop eyes, "Everypony, that is, but me."

Private Pansy was frozen in place. The torrents of shear madness and despair coming off this creature shook her to her very core. She had heard rumors of the Candy Mare, of course, but like most of the other pegasi she had dismissed it as some kind of earth pony urban legend. A way of explaining away loved ones lost in the cold, or families disappearing over night. She'd always hoped it was ponies leaving for warmer climates or. at worst. becoming tragically lost in a sudden white out. She'd never considered that such a blood soaked monstrosity like this could really be at the heart of the Nightmare Night tales. The beast seemed to be occupied with her own grief. If she was careful, she might just be able to back out of the kitchen, out of the house, out of the forest, and out of this country forever. One hind hoof moved to do just that and landed on a floorboard with a traitorous creak.

"It's because of ponies like you!" roared the candied abomination. "Pegasi and Unicorns. Pegasi and Unicorns! You think you're so much better than everypony else, but I have a secret for you." With blinding speed, the fiend slithered across the floor to stand right beside Private Pansy. She leaned in, her breath hot and sweet in Pansy's ear, "You all taste the same." Sharp teeth clipped the privates ear off at the root, leaving a bloody hole in the side of her head. She didn't even register the pain, transfixed by the sight of the Candy Mare slowly chewing the wad of flesh. It wasn't until her own blood dribbled down the side of her face, and into the corner of her own mouth, that she screamed in shock and pain, reeling backwards. She had to get away! She ran down the hallway, knocking over dusty end tables and chairs, trying to block the candy monsters pursuit. She needn't have bothered. When she reached the living room, the sugar coated nightmare was waiting for her with a bloody grin, blocking the door. Without hesitation, Pansy whirled and ran back the way she had come. There was another door, she had seen it in the kitchen. She didn't know how the Candy Mare had beaten her to the living room, but right now that was the only other way out.

The floor itself seemed to conspire against her, turning sticky and gooey beneath her hooves. With a surge of her wings, she pulled herself loose, only to see that it wasn't just the floor, but the walls and ceiling as well that seemed to be melting around her. She had to land again, or run the risk of being crushed. Barely making it back to the blood stained kitchen once again, she froze dead in her tracks. There was another pony now, sitting at the once again intact kitchen table, but it wasn't the Candy Mare. She looked old, haggard, and, from the glaze of her milky eyes, very dead. Had she been sitting at the table the entire time? Something caught her eye, a book that poked out of the ruffles of the dead ponies dress. Despite her peril, the book seemed somehow important to Pansy, as if it were calling out to her. She reached out for the journal and just as the pegasus lay a single hoof upon it a riot of laughter shook the cabin. The walls seemed to stretch and melt all around her, like the images in a fun house mirror. Without warning the kitchen floor fell away, opening like a massive mouth, splinter timbers serving as the jagged fangs of the gaping maw. There was no time to react. Private Pansy tumbled into the darkness, sure that any moment she was going to crack her skull or bust her spine. Instead she had an unexpectedly gentle landing.

The dank basement she had fallen into was without illumination, so before her eyes could adjust the first thing to assault her was the stench. It was the same rotting scent she had smelled before, only now it rose up and surround her. It was strange and spicy, salty almost, terribly bitter and foul. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see why. The cellar was full of dead bodies, filly's and foal's mostly, though there were a few colts and stallions hanging from hooks on the walls. There were more corpses scattered at her hooves. These, apparently, had been responsible for her soft landing. Private Pansy recoiled in terror. She had been a seasoned veteran for many years now, though she had intentionally avoided any promotions in rank, afraid of the responsibility and preferring her role as Command Hurricane's liaison and confident. But never in all her years, in all the battles she had witnessed, had she seen so many corpses in one place. The empty eye sockets of preserved skulls gazed up at her piteously. She could see where some ponies had been pickled and others coated in salt to preserve the flesh.

Pansy realized with a lurch in her stomach that she had landed in the monsters larder. As if conjured by that thought, the Candy Mare appeared, a high pitched giggle bubbling from her sugar frosted lips. The snake like red whips that served as her mane raised knives, cleavers, and other carving implements that glittered cruelly in the dark. Pansy had no doubt that those blades were razor honed, she probably wouldn't even feel it as they slid through her flesh, not that such a thought was of any comfort. She saw now what fate lay in store for her. There was a row of jars with what she understood from their size were delicate pegasus wings in some kind of sauce. There were other organs, pieces of pony flesh far more disgusting to behold, but she couldn't take her eyes off those plucked appendages in their jar of orange sauce. She didn't want parts of her body to be coated in spices and eaten as a snack when she died.

"Wait! Just wait! You don't have to do this! I swear I won't tell anypony about this. You can just... just keep killing other ponies around here if that's what you want. I'll make sure no pony comes to bother you!" Begged Private Pansy pathetically, "I've got friends in high places in Canterlot. We're abandoning this region anyway, so any ponies that are left behind are liable to be bandits, crooks, or hate mongers anyway. If you let me go, I'm sure I can make the authorities look the other way!" From the grin on her face and the glazed look in her candied eyes, it didn't seem like the Candy Mare was listening. The knives glistened in the dusky light, or at least the parts of them that weren't splattered with dark stains. Pansy raised the first thing to come to hoof to defend herself. "Please don't kill me!" She howled in desperation as she lifted the journal high. The old mare's journal. She trembled, expecting to feel the cold kiss of serrated metal any moment. It was a sensation that never came.

"No. No I think I have a better idea," whispered the Candy Mare. A single tendril reached out and wrest the book from the shaken pegasus grasp, "You will be my emissary. You will tell my story. That way all will know what is coming for them. You will be my messenger, so that all will understand exactly what lies in wait for them in the dark." She tucked the book into Private Pansy's saddle bag.

"R-really? Th-thank you. Thank you so much. I promise I'll do exactly what you say only..." Private Pansy looked around. There didn't seem to be any way out of this terrible charnel cellar. She didn't trust the way the cruel cannibal filly smiled at her. "How do I know I can trust you, that this isn't just some trick? That I'm not j-j-just leading you to more victims?"

The Candy Mare grinned wider as a hole opened up in the roof high above. At that moment, the cold light spilling through the new skylight was the most welcome sight Private Pansy had ever seen. "You'll just have to decide for yourself. Trick or treat?"

There was so much to keep track of these days. This new nation, Equestria, was one founded on love and tolerance. The tribes had found that with their new bonds of friendship and understanding that they could be far stronger and secure working together for the greater good. That didn't mean all of their problems were going to disappear over night, nor that there weren't any new problems on the horizon. Commander Hurricane had been receiving reports of griffins being spotted probing pegasus airs space. While they might just be testing their borders now, the Commander knew how the griffins thought. If they suspected any weakness they wouldn't hesitate to try and take more territory for themselves, regardless of if they really needed it or not. There had been a long standing treaty between the griffins and the pegasi over no flight zones and what counted as international airspace, but it was possible that with their abandonment of their former cloud cities for the newly constructed Cloudsdale that the griffins held those treaties to be null and void.

Commander Hurricane had been discussing just such a possible development with his staff when Starswirl the Bearded let himself into the room. At first the more militaristic pegasus had thought the old unicorn something of a fool, what with the bells sewn into the brim of his hat and the colorful motley costume he wore. Most unicorns were given to extravagances that the more pragmatic pegasi found distasteful, but Starswirl was in a class all by himself. It had come as shock to the Commander then when he found out that the old fellow was not only the most powerful and accomplished magician in King Bullion's unicorn court, but was also kind, respectful, and of a keen strategic mind. It was Starswirl who had foreseen that Equestria could not survive if the tribes continued to be divided, and would simply fall back into their old segregated ways if left to self rule. As such Commander Hurricane, King Bullion, and the good Chancellor Puddinghead had agreed to submit themselves to a ruler who would have sovereignty over them all. A pony who would be charged with the stewardship and protection of each tribe and all of Equestria in the years to come. It had also been Starswirl's genius to seek out such rulers from the Alicorns, one of the most long lived and powerful races, whom embodied the best qualities of unicorn, pegasus, and earth ponies. They had not one, but two such rulers now in the pony sisters, Celestia and Luna. Though young, they carried themselves with a dignity that even King Bullion's daughter, Princess Platinum, had grown to respect.

"Hello old friend, how goes the weather committee? Have you had a chance to look over the plans for the weather factories yet?" asked the bearded wizard. "I see you've got your maps and charts out. Perhaps you're looking for a good source of water for the Rain Factory? I had an idea I'd like to propose to you of perhaps using a different tribes water source each year, so that no one area would suffer a potential drought. Only oh- it seems these aren't my blueprints at all. They appear to be maps and drawings of the Griffin Kingdom. My dear Commander, I hope you weren't planning some sort of military action on your own," said the wizened unicorn arching an eyebrow.

"Nothing of the sort," responded the Commander hastily, quickly rolling up the map of Gregor Griffin's private keep. "Merely discussing measures to secure Equestria's airspace, with all due caution of course." There had been a time that if a unicorn had suggested the Commander of any impropriety, no matter how small, he would've launched into an angry rage. He had learned a valuable lesson about keeping his more negative emotions in check and having such a relapse now in front of so venerable a friend was out of the question. As such, he merely smiled and said, "I'm afraid we haven't gotten around to viewing your plans yet old friend. But we'll get to that just as soon as Private Pansy joins us. I'm awaiting her report about the ongoing evacuations from the north so that we can better gauge the size of our potential workforce."

"A most prudent idea Commander, I should have expected nothing less. Pardon me for my suspicious mind. I'm afraid it's difficulty even for a unicorn like myself to shake the hereditary distrust of the pegasus stratocracy." He removed his hat with a jingle of bells and bowed, showing that his apology was genuine and his last words were meant in jest. Commander Hurricane couldn't help but observe that for all his immense magical prowess, Starswirl did behave something like a jester or fool from time to time, but it was only to put friends at ease. The pegasus also knew that it could also effectively make enemies underestimate the unicorn, much to their later regret.

The doors to the meeting room burst open as a a pair of pegasus guards and a unicorn rushed in. The Commander recognized Clover the Clever, Princess Platinum's adviser and a close friend. "Starswirl, you have to come quickly. It's Pansy!"

"What? What's this about Private Pansy?" asked the Commander, his heart sinking as he looked at the face of Starswirl's apprentice. "What's happened?"

"I'm not sure Commander, but she's been injured. She was on her way to report to you when she collapsed." The unicorn turned her worried gaze to her mentor, "But I fear it's no ordinary wound. I sense dark magic has infected her. The same that wiped out one of the unicorn settlements thirty years ago."

Starswirl's face darkened, "Take me to her Clover. We haven't a moment to lose!"

Private Pansy writhed beneath the sheets. The medics had tried their best to make her comfortable after stitching up the wound on her head where her ear had been, but she had quickly developed a fever. Worse, she had started coughing up blood and bile, so that now the sheets weren't only soaked with sweat but splattered with scarlet stains as well. Starswirl entered the room in a whirl of of his starry robes, his horn instantly blazing with light as the glow of a powerful spell enveloped the injured pegasus. He consulted with the medics while Clover moved to her friends side. Commander Hurricane wasn't far behind, shouting, "Blast it all I'm in charge here! Somepony tell me what's going on! What's happened to my liaison!" His voice broke as his eyes fell on the state of her sheets. "What is wrong with my friend?"

"Nopony really knows," whispered Clover the Clever, one hoof placed over the glowing magic shell that now encased the private. "We've been studying cases when we can, but it's rare to come across any survivors. There were many when it first surfaced, but none lasted for more than a day before... Well, before they had to be destroyed. We've been researching what we can about potential cures, but without a stable subject to try them on, it's impossible to know if they'll be effective."

"And so far none of the subjects have been stable," grumbled Starswirl bitterly. "The spell I've cast will slow the spread of the curse. But given her condition, even with my spells, it's only a matter of time."

"Only a matter of time? Until what!? Spit it out sir, if this is some new threat to Equestria, as it's military commander it is my right to know!" shouted Hurricane, stomping one hoof for emphasis.

Starswirl frowned. He motioned for the medics to leave the room and closed the door behind them. He didn't stop there, moving to the tower window and securing the shutters to be sure no passing pegasus might eavesdrop. With just Clover, Hurricane, and himself in the room with the afflicted Pansy, the bearded unicorn lit a few candles to provide a fitful sort of illumination. "It's only a matter of time, Commander, until we will lose poor Pansy in more ways than one. She is under the sway of a dire curse that saps the life from earth pony, pegasus, and unicorn alike. We've tried to keep this under wraps to prevent a panic spreading through the populace. In the more advanced stages, which I am sorry to say Pansy is on the verge of, the body is destroyed and replaced with a simulacrum that is possessed of nothing but a cruel and violent hunger. If there is anything you wish to say to her Hurricane, I suggest you do so now."

"She...she can hear us? Can she speak?" The Commander, for all his bravery, looked truly shaken.

"Yes. The barrier is for our safety, to keep the curse from spreading. My spell work should have slowed the process sufficiently now that the worst of the pain is over. I only wish that I could do more." Starswirl's brow knit in thought. "Actually... Clover, you're teleportation spells have come along now, yes? You should be able to blink between here and the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Fetch the Princesses, as quickly as you can! Alicorn magic may succeed where unicorn's have failed."

"Of course! I'll return as swiftly as I can!" cried Clover, vanishing in a flash of violet light.

"Is there really hope Starswirl? Can the royal sisters truly help my poor Pansy?" asked Hurricane, all pretense of control or command abandoned.

"I very much doubt it," spoke Starswirl sadly. "As powerful as the Princesses are, they are as yet inexperienced in their abilities. They were very recently blank flanks, after all. While that means little as it concerns their maturity, it does mean that they are still very much coming into their own. I merely sent Clover away so that she might be spared witnessing the end," The unicorn gazed sadly at the fragile pegasus, and at that moment he looked every bit as old as his many years. "She's stirring now Commander, now is your chance."

Indeed, Pansy's eyes, closed tight as she had grimaced and groaned on the bed, fluttered open. She was beautiful beneath Starswirl's shimmering spell, but she had always been beautiful to Commander Hurricane. It was only rank and duty that had kept the old war horse from saying so. A duty he had never once had cause to regret, until this day, this moment. "Private...can you hear me? Are you in pain?"

"I...I was Commander," she spoke slowly, as if in a daze. "Not anymore though. Everything feels so fuzzy. I wanted to see you. I needed to see you, before the end. I heard what mister Starswirl the Bearded was saying, but I knew even before he said it what that monster had done to me. She tricked me after all I guess."

"Who did. Give me a name private, or if you don't have one a description, and I swear I'll bring the full might of the Equestrian military down on them so fast they'll never know what hit them!" Rallied the military leader, fire creeping back into his eyes.

"No! No please don't!" shouted Private Pansy with a rattling cough. "You don't know what she's like. I had a chance to read her mother's journal on the journey here. It's in my saddle bag, it'll tell you everything you need to know." Her eyes welled with tears. It was clear that whatever time Starswirl's spell had bought them was quickly drawing to a close. "I think that's why she let me go. She wanted you and the others to have it. She wanted you to know what she is and what's coming for you. Who is coming for you."

"Who? Who my love?" whispered Hurricane, urgently.

Private Pansy's face lit up, shining almost brighter than the magic spell. The look of joy on her face was quickly replaced with one of anguish. She managed to choke the words out with a fresh spurt of blood from between her teeth, "The Candy Mare..." She writhed then, her skin visibly stretching as something squirmed beneath her flesh. It started from the wound in the side of her head, spreading across her jaw. With a spurt, crimson tendrils shot from her mouth, breaking her jaw. The thick red ropes continued to spread under her flesh but a few strands hooked around Pansy's shattered mandible and twisted her head to the side. With the popping and snapping sound of bone grinding against bone a voice, not the privates own, sang mockingly, "Nightmare Night, what a Fright! Give us Something Sweet to Bite!" The strands of liquorice shot from her eyes, popping them out of socket so they dangled from her face, and jammed themselves into the magical shell. They pierced the barrier as if it were made of paper.

Commander Hurricane fell back, the flailing appendages missing him by mere inches. "Starswirl, what's happening!?"

"I warned you, the victims are never stable!" shouted the unicorn as his horn blazed, trying to batter back the squirming tendrils. "The curse seems to manifest itself differently in every pony, but I've never seen such a violent reaction as this! Most of them don't even speak beyond a few mumbles and a little mad giggling! They don't sing!" For all the powerful unicorns efforts, the tendrils were bursting out from the protective shell in more and more places. Pansy, for her part, was now little more than a swollen mass, her body bulging, inflating from the inside as more and more candy tendrils burst from her flesh. Whatever was inside her was threatening to pop her like a balloon. She grew larger, tentacles bursting from every orifice already, now ripping out of new wet and sticky wounds.

"Do something!" roared Commander Hurricane.

"I'm trying!" shouted back Starswirl.

A flash of violet light filled the room, "I got back as quickly as I could! I found Celestia in her library but it took longer to find Luna down in the organ room-" Clover the Clever's eyes widened as she gazed upon the thing that had once been her friend. "By Celestia's beard! What is going on!?"

"I don't have a beard," came a hurt, though melodious voice, "I swear, you mess up one keratinous spell and everypony remembers it forever!"

"I told you dear sister," came another voice, teasingly, "No good would come from spending so much time with the books from Starswirl's private library."

"This is no time for playful banter!" cried Starswirl, just barely holding back the wall of wriggling worm like appendages with a shimmering wall of magic fire.

"Oh dear, I see what you mean," said Celestia. "Can you speak to it sister?"

"I just tried. Whatever it is, it's not of the natural world," replied Luna. "I'm afraid we're going to have to do this your way."

"Don't be so grim sister. It's not every day we get to save Equestria!" cried Celestia joyously as her horn flared with brilliant sunlight, her wings spread wide.

"Pfft, I wish," replied Luna as her own horn erupted in a more shadowy glow. "Back to the darkness with you cur!"

The sisters twined beams of magic smashed through Starswirl's spell, and enveloped Private Pansy. The ball of candy squirmed like a nest of angry maggots as the brilliant sunlight burned the corruptive candy and the shadows enveloped those pieces that tried to wriggle away. In mere moments all that was left of poor Private Pansy was a small collection of fragile bones amid a few gobbets of quivering flesh. "Ew...what was that thing?" asked Celestia, probing the ponies skull with one delicate wing.

"That was Private Pansy," said Commander Hurricane. "That was our friend."

"Oh...ooooh. Oh," said Luna. "This is bad, yes?"

Starswirl, his expression unreadable, pulled his hat down over his face. All Clover seemed to be able to do was cry. Commander Hurricane, for his part, reached out a hoof to stroke the side of Pansy's broken skull. Starswirl turned to the Private's saddlebag, which had been ignored this entire time, and he opened the journal he found inside. He started to read. Celestia and Luna looked at each other, backed slowly towards the door, and then slipped quickly out of the room.

"Well, I think that could have gone better. Was that thing really Private Pansy do you think?" asked Celestia as they walked quickly out of the barracks.

"I don't think now is the time to ask. We can get the whole story from Starswirl later. Right now we've got other problems," replied Luna as the pair of sisters reached the exit. Without consciously realizing it, the pair took to the sky in perfect synchronization.

"The Hearths Warming festival preparations you mean? Surely those will need to be postponed in light of one of the founders having...passed," said Celestia diplomatically.

"I don't think that would be a good idea. If we cancel the event everypony is going to want to know why. Do you really want to tell them we blew up one of the founders of Equestria?" asked Luna with a smirk. "Regardless of the circumstances, I doubt that's something any peasant wants to hear about their new monarch, let alone the the other founders who were her friends."

"My word sister, are you proposing that we practice some sort of deception?" asked Celestia doubtfully, her brow knit with concern.

"Of course not! I just think it might be a good idea for us to focus everypony's attention on the celebration of Equestria's founding. Meanwhile we, their protectors, can deal with whatever it is that caused the poor private's demise 'privately', so to speak."

"That was a poor pun sister, leave the comedy to the play-writes," spoke Celestia, though with a hint of mirth. "But it is meant to be a merry festival, I suppose. Perhaps it will help lighten the heavy hearts of our friends. It is a good idea Luna."

"Of course," replied Luna, though then she added, "At least, I hope it's a good idea."

The two sisters shared a worried glance. The wind from the north seemed to be blowing a little colder. Though it was the time of year for ice and snow, the pair couldn't help but feel an extra bite to the breeze. And perhaps with their superior senses, they could feel the dark presence that was slipping into their midst. A cold, dark feeling, that Luna and Celestia both doubted any celebration could ever hope to entirely dispel.

Epilogue

The play ended to thunderous applause, every pony in attendance stomping their pleasure. The closing song had gone over very well, though Starswirl was a little unsure about the Heart Carol's lyrics. Still, it tended to be the simplest songs that stood the test of time, so even if the play were to be forgotten, the song might live on spreading the message of friendship and togetherness. Having been granted glimpses into the myriad possible futures of Equestria through his own experimentation with travel in both time and dimensions, Starswirl was sure that such sentiments would be pivotal in times to come. It was tempting, indeed, to skip ahead in his own timeline to discover what might become of Celestia and Luna, but he feared learning too much about the mares they might become could ruin the relationship he had with them in the here and now. Celestia, often seemed the more poised of the two, but once you got to know her she had a somewhat silly and studious side that bordered on what younger ponies would consider geeky. Luna, ever the more distant and unapproachable, was actually extremely kind to animals and enjoyed sharing a good laugh, though this could lead to some rather vexing pranks. It was these two he now sought as the great hall slowly drained of audience members.

"Ah Starswirl, a marvelous performance was it not? I didn't know it would be so exciting!" said Celestia enthusiastically as the old unicorn made his way through the press of admiring nobles. "It was clever of you to sneak the new flag of the unified Equestria in at the end."

"Don't listen to my sister, she was complaining about the flags presence being inaccurate when our royal selves had not yet been introduced," chimed in Luna, rolling her eyes. "Given the overall tenor of the play, however, I very much doubt accuracy is all that important to the overall message," If possible, it seemed the younger sister had enjoyed the play almost more than her older sister. But her smile faded slightly as she saw the look on Starswirl's bearded face,"Pray tell, is something wrong dear Starswirl? Was the play not to thy liking?"

"Oh, no, the play was wonderful of course," chuckled the old unicorn, doing his best to allay not only Luna's concern, but those of the nearby nobility as well. "I was simply hoping to have a word with the two of you. In private perhaps?" Though the crowd was trickling out of the building, there were still many ponies on all sides. Such a request was ludicrous. Or at least it would've been coming from any other pony.

"Why of course Starswirl, we always have time for your valued advice," spoke Celestia in golden tones.

"Naturally, I agree with my sister. Shall you do the honors or shall I?" asked Luna.

"By all means, allow me," said Starswirl, before a large cloud of smoke enveloped the trio. Dancing starlight swirled through the thick blue haze, dazzling those nearby and leaving every pony gasping and coughing in mild dismay.

"That was a bit showier than usual Starswirl. Felt like making a grand exit?" asked Luna, as they stood in the highest tower in Canterlot Castle. The air up here was frigid at the best of times, but right now it was downright freezing. Celestia and Luna both couldn't help shivering as the wind tugged at their thin evening gowns. The few stars above that could be seen through the cloud cover twinkled merrily enough, but at this time and in this place, they seemed far more distant and cold than usual. Starswirl, for his part, stood as if the elements could not so much as touch him save for his cloak and long beard. The look in his eyes made the alicorn sisters cringe inwards. The powerful unicorn was their friend, but he had also been something like a teacher to them. Clover the Clever may have been his apprentice, but she was not the only powerful little pony Starswirl had watched over and guided. More than anything, they feared that a lecture was forthcoming.

"No, fair Luna, it was merely the most expedient spell I knew to get us away from the crowd. As you may have gathered I have something of import to impart to you," The old mage paused, taking a deep breath and gazing up into the frosty night. "But first, tell me, what do the two of you think of the weather?"

"Why, tis most glorious," hazarded Luna. "Though perhaps a bit bracing upon these high towers and ramparts."

"I agree with Luna," added Celestia. "It is rare for us to have ice and snow this early in the season. The pegasi have outdone themselves."

"The pegasi have done nothing at all," A flash of blue magic burst from the unicorns horn, spreading across the sky and penetrating the clouds. An echoing, terrifying scream spread across the sky, before it was blended with the howling wind. Something ethereal took shape just above the tower, like a ghostly horse outlined with ice and shimmering with snow. The apparition was there and gone in an instant, as a flaming heart took shape in the air and dispelled the chilly aura, but both the Alicorn sisters knew what the creature was on sight. They had been visited by a Windigo. "Our frosty evening is no work of pegasi."

"But I don't understand. I thought you had said the Windigos would keep to the northern wastes," said Celestia, her brow knitting in worry. "That so long as we stuck to the principles of unity and harmony, they would have no negative emotions to feed off of here in Equestria."

"I and my sister have kept to your principles Starswirl. We have guided this fledgling nation through many trials already, and we have not strayed from its founding edicts of love and tolerance for all ponykind!" shouted Luna, both flustered and attempting to be heard over the rising wind.

"I know," said Starswirl, a grim cast to his face. "However, the pegasi have been disturbed. Ever since we lost Private Pansy, it seems Commander Hurricane has abandoned our plans to instead pursue those of his own. In time, he will begin to rebel openly against you. We cannot afford a schism among the tribes at so early a stage in Equestria's history, lest we risk this realm being blanketed by the same frozen death as the old lands. The Windigos are far too numerous for us to keep at bay without preserving harmony and working together to overcome them. I'm afraid you may have to intercede in this matter."

"Commander Hurricane has been distant since poor Pansy's tragic passing, but I thought he was merely taking time to grieve. I did not know he had so abandoned his duties," said Celestia sadly.

"Nor did I," spoke Starswirl with a deep frown, "I'm afraid I've been overly absorbed in finding a cure for the Candy Curse. I worry that there may be other spell work at play here, old spells unknown to Unicorn or even Alicorn magic. As much information as the journal Pansy recovered was able to relate to us, and as much information as we were able to glean from the pegasi that cared for her before she... before she turned, I'm afraid we're still in the dark as to what can be done to stop this menace," the unicorn's eyes drifted over the city below. "I fear that it may be my lack of progress that has led Commander Hurricane to consider more mundane and militaristic solutions."

"Is that not as it should be?" Asked Luna curiously. "If there is no magical solution and there is no apparent negotiating with this monster, this Candy Mare, then surely it is up to the military might of Equestria to put down this threat. The Pegasi, after all, traditionally defended the other pony tribes in times of peril."

"Yes Luna, but that is our job now. We are the Guardians of Equestria. I believe I see why you brought us here now Starswirl," said Celestia, her head bowed low. "Though we spent so much time on it, and though it was truly delightful, our play alone cannot be expected to hold together our alliance. No, we are the guardians of Equestria, as its rulers, and it is time we dealt with matters to allay the fears of our people and to lay to rest the problem of this shadowy threat that looms over us all. For Commander Hurricane's sake most of all, it should be we who take on this burden."

"Well spoken Celestia," said Starswirl, a smile brightening his dour expression. "I confess, though I've made little progress in neutralizing the curse itself, I have considered other methods that we might be able to use to thwart this monster."

"Would they perhaps involve the tree of Harmony?" asked Celestia. "I've been doing more research on the symbols of the tree since Luna and I received our cutie marks. That they match two prominent marks on the Tree of Harmony can be no coincidence. I suspect that there are others out there who will also find that they represent certain 'elements' of harmony, and that with their aid we might come to better understand the awesome power offered by that most ancient of artifacts."

"In time Celestia, I believe that will be true in time," said Starswirl mysteriously, "But in the here and now, there are other solutions we could consider. In my studies with travels through time and dimensions, I have stumbled across a world where magic does not seem to naturally exist. At first I dismissed the realm, as introducing so wild a force as my own magic into a plane that is not adapted to its existence could have dire consequences. I have come to have second thoughts about this, however, and I think that it may prove a boon to us in times to come. With it's complete lack of magic, it's possible that it would have a dampening effect on any curse or magical creature that was banished there. This would have the double effect of removing the creature from Equestria as well as weakening it to the point it would pose no threat, even to the other world."

"Ingenious," smiled Celestia. "Yet you have not mentioned this before? I fear an unspoken 'but' is in our near future."

Starswirl's expression turned sour again, "It is true Princess. I am afraid the portal to the realm I speak of is only open once ever thirty moons. The last cycle ended not long ago, so I'm afraid this would not by any means be a speedy solution, but rather one we could plan for and work towards over the coming months-"

"That is unacceptable," said Luna with a suddenness that startled Starswirl, causing the erudite unicorn to sputter to a stop in mid-sentence. "If this matter is as dire as thou portend, then we should act swiftly to stop this candied abomination. If I understand what you've been saying, she is less a living pony and more a living nightmare. Since taking stewardship of the Moon and the night of Equestria, I have become acquainted with new powers that my vocation provides. As you said to us before Starswirl, the spell to raise the moon rejuvenates and recharges my Alicorn magic, but it has done so much more! I can now cast spells of transmogrification with ease, change my own shape and that of others like an ever shifting shadow," her eyes glowed as she spoke, the night seeming to grow darker around them, lightning dancing through the snow clouds. "And yes, I believe I have learned something of how to deal with nightmares. I believe I now a faster way to handle this being that threatens Equestria."

"Er...that's good, isn't it?" asked Starswirl uncertainly, not entirely sure it was. This was a side of Luna he had never seen before.

"Quiet good I should think, but that is only the first step," said Celestia thoughtfully. "The Candy Mare has already become a boogie-mare, striking fear into the ponies of Equestria by word of mouth as much as by deed. I think that poor Pansy was sacrificed to sow such fear amongst us. It is this unease that is likely responsible for the Windigo's appearance here tonight. I think it would be wise to suppress the tales of the Candy Mare."

"Forbidding the spread of such tales may have the opposite effect of what you desire Princess," said Starswirl matter-of-factly.

"Then what do you suggest Starswirl?" asked Luna, her gaze unsettling the unicorn slightly.

"Perhaps we replace the tales with a new story. Maybe about you brave Princesses and how you defeat the monster, how much you love and cherish your people to face such a nightmare? Once the deed is accomplished of course," he added as an after thought.

"Hah! I like this plan! Tis one of which I approve very much!" spake Luna, once again her more cheerful self.

"It is decided then!" said Celestia, her serious demeanor fading away as well, "Now enough of this skulduggery. I propose we get out of this cold and get ourselves some mugs of hot cocoa. It is still Hearths Warming Eve, an official holiday if I recall the declaration, and we will still have many guests to attend to in the Palace below. There shall be much merriment, and I am given to believe there may be a gift exchange as well. A novel idea, but one I hope becomes a tradition."

"That sounds delightful, but I fear it may be time for all good little ponies to be heading to bed," said Starswirl, his age showing for the first time since they had arrived on the tower. Neither Luna nor Celestia bought the exaggerated 'frail old pony' act for a moment. With a crafty smile, the powerful sorcerer vanished in another puff of blue smoke, leaving the sisters alone atop the Alicorn Citadel.

"I swear, these ponyfolk are always sleeping through my beautiful nights. It strikes me as downright ungrateful. I shall have to do something about that as well in the future," said Luna, mostly to herself.

"A problem to be dealt with another time dear sister," replied Celestia, gathering her smaller sibling under her sheltering wing. "For now, let us merely see to our guests, and wish them all a happy Hearths Warming, and to all a good night."

Candy Land

A dusty mirror in a dimly lit room, forgotten under a layer of cobwebs, sat silently... Almost expectantly. Unlike the other broken down bits of furniture and scattered books this item did not have the air of an abandoned object. Rather, the looking glass almost seemed to be waiting, like a patient if annoyed companion who's compatriot has been late one too many times. A disturbance in the air causes the webs to shift, the dust to fall in tiny waterfall like cascades. The ancient, mummified corpses of long dead flies and the spiders who caught them dance and twirl in a parody of their former lives. Without warning, a bright flash of light illuminates the storage room, sending tattered dust covers dancing like so many ghosts. The room was suddenly occupied.

The cloaked figure grinned as her hooded eyes darted back and forth. This was all familiar. Good. The element of surprise was on her side, but she didn't have a moment to lose. Without so much as a whisper, the pony moved swift as a fleeting shadow across the dusty floor. With only a moments hesitation, she pushed open the door to the storage room, and stepped out into the palace halls. All was dark and quiet. It was the middle of the night here, just as it had been in the world that the cloaked figure had come from. There didn't seem to be any guards about, which was all the better for her plans. Still, she moved quickly, but cautiously through the hallway. The spell that silenced her hoof steps would only work for so long, but if she was fast, she could snatch the element of magic before Celestia would be any the wiser. She could sense the power of the elements nearby, but they were faint. It was odd how truly still everything was.

There wasn't even a hint of a breeze, a breath of air. Indeed, the cloaked figure couldn't help but think that the edifice was not unlike a neglected tomb, a sepulcher long abandoned. Just how long had she really been gone? Was it possible that what had seemed like a few years to her had been ages on this side of the portal? Had she somehow miscalculated? With a growing sense of unease, she set hoof into the main hall, and her breath caught in her throat. The palace was a wreck. The few remaining tapestries, torn to shreds, hung limply from the walls and archways. A shimmering carpet of jagged multicolored shards was all that remained of the stained glass windows that Celestia had once cherished so dearly. Beyond those glass-less apertures lay only darkness, as if something had blotted out every star in the sky. The cloaked mare wasn't sure if she was relieved or terrified when she discovered that the windows were merely blocked by piles of rubble. Apparently the very masonry of the palace, that had stood for time immemorial, lay thick enough on the ground to bury what remained of the great hall. What had happened here? Had there been some sort of attack? Some terrible cataclysm? Or had the old citadel simply been left to the ravages of the ages and now lay in the relentless jaws of entropy? There was only one way to find out. Deciding that the need to gather information now trumped her need for stealth, the stranger risked a translocation spell. She only hoped that the balcony was still there.

In a flash of green not unlike the last rays of the setting sun, the hooded unicorn found her hooves on solid, if sticky ground. The balcony still existed, though its shape was irregular and bizarre in the chilly moonlight. She had been right in one regard, it was indeed night. If the position of the stars were any indication, it was the right time of year as well, indeed even the correct era, but everything else was terribly, terribly wrong. Beneath the glow of a high, full moon, she could just glimpse the landscape through a thick pall of mist and fog. Equestria spread out below in a twisted parody of its former majesty. The land was luminescent in the dark, sparkling beneath a sugar frosted coating that seemed to dust everything. The distant forests, supported by thick candy cane tree trunks, lifted glowing candied leaves to the stars. What should have been grassy fields stretched far into the distance in bright pink bubblegum shades. A green gloppy sludge, that passed for a river, bubbled and fizzed along its banks. The very air was heavy and cloying, the scent of so many sweets threatened to suffocate the mare. And the city! Once proud and prosperous Canterlot lay in ruin. What few parts of it still stood were now bizarre gingerbread versions of their former glory. Even the balcony upon which she stood, the refinements of the palace itself, all had been transformed into a confectioners mockery of its once sublime beauty.

A chill seemed to penetrate the cloaked ponies body from all sides, though it had nothing to do with the misty atmosphere, even if it was as cold as a Windigo's heart. No, there was deep, dark, ancient magic at work here; the kind that made every hair in her mane and tail stand on end. Lowering her hood, even Sunset Shimmer couldn't help but mutter, "By Celestia's beard... What is going on?" Her red mane vibrant in the silvery light, Celestia's former apprentice felt all her dark ambitions evaporate as she looked down upon the wreckage of the ones mighty pony civilization. What good had all her planning been? What use now did she have for a mind controlled army? Did she really want to conquer this dump?

A distant mountain rumbled suddenly on the horizon, interrupting her thoughts. Was it some kind of volcano? Was that what had blanketed everything in this unnatural candy shell? What truly bizarre feat of magic could spawn such a thing? Had Discord somehow been freed from his stone prison? No, this mountain was something else. As the unicorn watched, lights flicker all across the mountain as tiny blue flames sparked to life all along the craggy surface. The mountain shook again, this time causing the already crumbling city to pitch and heave violently, as though it were a ship caught on a stormy sea. The earthquake intensifying, it was all Sunset Shimmer could do to hold on to the balcony's railing as the mountain rose, and seemed to blot out the night sky. The quakes came in a steady rhythm now, accompanied by a series of thunderous booms. Nearby buildings shattered into cookie crumb pieces, while a great exhalation of frigid air seemed to sweep away the fog.

It was then that Sunset Shimmer could see what the mist had been hiding. Bones. A thick carpet of them were strewn all across the city. The bare, naked bones and smiling skulls of long dead ponies gleamed brightly beneath the pale glow of the moon. As the moving mountain loomed over her, Sunset could see that their were other polished skulls set in the side of the candy crag, though there were far too many to count. Wreathed in azure flames, the skulls jaws hung open in inaudible screams.

It was none of this that held the unicorn's attention, however. No, it was the face. That horrible, hideous face, that hovered just above the balcony blotting out the sky. Beneath a mane of crimson tendrils that cascaded like a waterfall down one side of the gargantuan misshapen head, eyes that seemed to be the size of the moon glowed with malice and madness, focused squarely on Sunset Shimmer. This was no bizarre volcano, or mountain, but something far worse. In that horrible moment of realization, that the colossus Sunset was gazing up at in terror was in fact looking right back at her, the thing smiled. Teeth as large as the palaces shattered spires pried slowly apart and a long, thick tongue scraped across the building sized teeth leaving a trail of translucent drool. Sunset Shimmer could just see a reflection of herself in one candy corn colored tooth.

After a quick, bloody crunch, the Candy Mare's laughter was the only sound that filled that dead world.

Author's Note

A little preview of things to come at the end. I hope you enjoy and have a happy Hearths Warming!