From the Flames in the Firelight

Chapters

1 - Always The Same
2 - Came the Night
3 - In the Broken Light
4 - Though Your Eyes Are Dim...
5 - ...All of the Pieces in the Sky
6 - Order the Pieces

1 - Always The Same

The Tantabus itself was a work of art. Nay, the creature itself was the artist. I created it to catalogue pressing or unique nightmares. To create reminders of the despair my subjects faced. The younger princess tried to understand the forces at work behind the Tantabus the weeks following its… rogue episode. The thing dressed itself up in the canvases which it created, then continued to leech energy from its victims, including myself, until it nearly destroyed all of Equestria.

So, Twilight Sparkle asked: how? How could it be so powerful? She thought it strange that a mere magical construct could stray so drastically. It was no mere construct. It was simply another piece of my shattered mind. A part of me, given a single purpose by me.

Punishment.

Though I dearly, desperately wished for release, I could not bring myself to allow even the smallest chance that I could turn my head from all the ugliness in the world. All the pain my selfishness caused. All the suffering in my absence. The guilt would have driven an intact mind to insanity. Fortunately, my mind had already fallen to pieces, and I could use those pieces as I saw fit.

One does not simply attain a mastery of dream magic by being healthy in the head.

This leads me to an odd occurrence that happened late last night. I perhaps felt segregated from my mortal subjects because of my bizarre mind. To be able to peel away the complex layers of an equine mind subconsciously made me a frightening companion. Only foals, in their ignorance, had a chance to overcome or oversee this fear. That, and my fellow alicorns.

My sister’s mental fortitude is such that I cannot see what she is thinking. She wears her heart on her sleeve by choice. Not one to unnerve her subjects. Twilight is still a fledgling. While I can read her like, dare I say, a book, she has her moments.

I adored my niece’s company. She had more shades of my sister than shades Twilight. I was truly surprised at the steely guise she put on at all times. Steely may seem ill-fitting of a word; a prissy, airheaded optimist surely does not carry such connotations about herself.

But I know better. I know that my sister is also aware. That mare is hiding something, just as I have in the past.

She excused herself from Shining’s birthday party early. That act alone alarmed many of her close friends. My suspicions aroused further when my sister nodded me to follow her, alone. Oh, Shining was far from pleased. I’m sure whatever distraction Celestia cooked up for him did nothing to take his focus off the issue.

As anticipated, my niece loomed over her kingdom from the bedroom balcony.

I spoke first. “Tell me what ails you, child.”

Her tail lashed. Tension ruled her shoulders. “I’m no child, auntie.”

The bite in her voice caused me to pale. The mare was the sort to build up her atmosphere; a sense of what to expect from her, in other words. The mare’s smile alone could put a room of soldiers at ease. I, as well, fell victim to her charm. The desire to experience it. The bite felt as a grievous stain on an otherwise beautiful piece.

“Do not forget the years between us.” I chuckle softly after a moment; a small smile came to mind first, but my niece refused to face me yet. “I mean no insult by it, anyways. Do you not recall our past conversations?”

She huffed. “I do, auntie.”

I stay silent in expectancy. She offers me nothing.

“Ca—”

“Why did you come here?”

“Pardon me, but that’s a very silly question. If it wasn’t me, it would have been him.”

Her feathers ruffled next. Impatience. The tension was unpleasant, and an invader threatened her tranquility. “Shining can’t fly. Celestia can’t fly faster than me. You were the only one they could send after me, and you know it. So why did you agree?”

My brow narrowed. I saw now that this was a serious issue. And with that, I readied my cards.

“I am aware of your mental state, my niece,” I uttered. Her wings flared, prompting immediate clarification. “I need not even enter your dreams to see the shadows dancing about them.”

My effort to assuage her had come too late. The boil in her chest forced her to face me, to betray her puffy eyes and trembling lip. “How can I be sure you didn't invade my privacy, dear Aunt?”

Ignorant foal. I could speak my truths to her all day and night, yet she would abandon her trust of me the moment she had reason to fear for herself. I rubbed my temples. She stuck her jaw out further. Annoyance. Bah!

My sister spoke of her and my niece’s first meeting. T’was the one and only time she said a word on the subject to me.

‘I don’t believe I’ve ever had another pony buck me in the face upon our first meeting. You know well my pride as a former earth pony, so believe me when I say I could still feel that, two weeks after. Our niece is… she’s quite the hellcat if you press her.’

“Do you mean to insult the esteem I hold for my fellow pony, my fellow alicorn and my friend?”

Her ears fold back a tad. “N-not at all. But I know Auntie Celestia has been wanting me to… and with you here, I—”

I stomped forward, prompting her to step away. “And do you mean to imply that Celestia would use me to spy on her own niece?” I gave a bitter chuckle. “Heh, and I suppose the reason you don’t trust anyone is because you just assume we’re all horrible ponies out to get you. This secret of yours surely must be more important than reason, isn’t it? You hide it like the graze on a foal’s knee. Even the open air stings it. More worried about getting into trouble with your parents than having it bandaged.”

She blinked at me. Her jaw hung open.

“Am I wrong, my niece? You tell me.”

She ground her teeth. Her eyes searched the floor. No malice was to be found there. At last, she heaved a sigh. “I'm sorry. I wanted to believe you were trivializing this, but if you knew, you never would. I guess… you didn't see anything?”

I matched those hopeful eyes with my curiosity. “To be honest, I tried to tread your dreams once. And yet, there were none.” I waved her off, at least to allow my explanation. “Only an empty nest of gross negativity, with your unconscious mind in it. Though there was nothing I could enter, I have seen the phenomenon before.”

The information proved troublesome to parse for her. I sigh. This sort of bluntness wasn’t the best course in this situation.

“You're suppressing it. Your conscious mind is doing it’s best to protect itself. What I see when I approach your sleeping soul is the result of it.”

Immediately, my niece shook her head. “Impossible. I'm just… just…”

I pressed on. “Why did you retreat from his birthday party? What reminded you?”

Her posture betrayed fear upon the utterance of that word. “I-It’s his special day. The day he was born.” A tiny little sob escaped her lips. Her eyes became distant. At that moment, my heart sank. Within that little moment, every fibre of her being felt mortal. Simple. Wonderful, yet stark. “You're g-going to outlive him, and then you'll be, you'll be—”

She clasped her mouth shut with both forehooves. The mare gagged, stumbled backwards.

My motion was quick. Both my wings braced her against my chest. I shushed her, stroked her mane. “Speak no further, my niece. Relax.”

Her compliance came muffled by my coat. Her erratic breath flowed as if she were speaking, but I could hear nothing.

Mortal. It made perfect sense, until that sensation came back to mind. I understood her fear of outlasting her loved ones. Truly, I did. I closed my eyes, then nuzzled the poor creature. I spoke slowly and softly.

“My niece. I know you are frightened. I know today only serves as a reminder.”

Before I could form my next thought, her hoarse voice interrupted. “B-but I must face it. I can't hide from my fears.”

I nodded eagerly. “This is the truth.”

Her wings shifted once more. “It’s the way of Perfection. All pegasus warriors of the past sought perfection in themselves, even if it was impossible.”

I blinked. I could not help my confusion. Perhaps she derived inspiration from that bit of history? Or, perhaps…

“Tell me, were you—”

“Yes,” she answered. The bite from before returned for that single word, and soon faded for the last time. “”Yes, I was. I wasn’t raised by pegasi, however. I dove into our history soon after Auntie Celestia took me under her wing. I needed to know of our people, more than anything else in the world.”

Her situation began to clear up. I dreaded delving deeper. What I thought of this mare turned on its head in a matter of moments. Speech eluded me. I could feel her eyes scanning my face. Perhaps she saw a question that was not there.

“Why did I become obsessed? Is that what you’re wondering?” Her silken locks swayed with each motion of her head as she reached for my emotions. I merely watched, hypnotized by her mane almost.

“Yes,” I whispered. Perhaps it was best to parrot what she wanted. I feared forcing such a delicate matter.

To my disappointment, she tossed her mane back. Her throat bobbed. Her lips puckered. Fear itself crept into the mare, sly enough to elude all detection. “I c-can’t remember it, Auntie Luna. I don’t want to.”

I closed my eyes and hummed out. “I understand now. I only have one solution to offer.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Spit it out. Don’t string me along.”

Despite myself, I winced. “Of course. The only method I have felt safe in applying in such situations was to ‘compress’ the afflicted’s mind. To force the conscious and unconscious to meet, so that dreams could no longer be obscured by any mental blocks.”

She cocked her head. Yet, her eyes didn’t lose any edge. “I’m going to trust that this would work. What’s the catch then?”

“I cannot see into the dream. Should anything go wrong, I would have no way of helping, and you could not tell me to stop. Your dreams could permanently edge on being invasive, for their vividness would become excessive.” Her internal deliberations battled across her face. I took a deep breath. “And that is all I know. It’s all I have seen thus far, in any case. The risks are effectively unknown.”

After a good few minutes, my niece stood up. Her eyes danced in a frenzy all the while, and she paced back and forth. I kept still, as a bystander. It cast helplessness upon me. Necessary, but still aggravating. She whipped about to face me. Uncertainty was all that rolled off her. The mare eyed me from down her snout. Power in those eyes… I had never seen such a look on the mare before. Though her legs trembled, she held her head high.

Clearly, this mare was deluded. I had only known her for less than a year, but somehow… she felt safety in confiding to me. The trappings of fear still possessed her, but the mask had been peeled away, all for this one answer.

“Do it.”

Author's Note

Well, this was pretty fun to churn out. I actually wrote the whole story as one big one shot (~17k), but advice from my friends compelled what you see here. Just go with the flow, and thank you for reading.

2 - Came the Night

Powerful magics had seeped into the very earth long ago, sewn by powerful forces to root their stake into the heart of their land. The energy that comprised such a powerful hex hummed through the ground and air with nerve-wracking steadiness; an unnatural pall about the entire shining kingdom.

The residents within enjoyed the presence. The spell protected them from the teething cold, the wolves seeking blood, the madness of the outside. The ethereal warmth below the shimmering kingdom created the most fantastic illusion; the illusion that a scoop of spring had fallen into the chilly bowl of the land.

However, boundary between the warmth and the cold languished. The enchantments pilfered the traces of heat and life from the outside to sustain itself within, leaving only a cold that could freeze even the words from the air.

Through it all, a lone pegasus fought through the winter gusts. Though the icy winds feigned beauty, they felt as though a lane of tacks dragged across her wings. At her back, the heartbeat of the lustrous city licked at her bones one last time, before it could no longer spare her the suffering of the dense blizzard that hampered her flight.

The frost must have spread unevenly through her heart, for a more thawed corner of it throbbed. Unconsciously, her eyes the pull in her chest to that side, and through the snowfall, a blot of red had appeared like a sore upon her temple.

“Trying to fly again, Cadenza?” a voice called to her. The sound blanketed her mind, snuffing the roar of the winds until they screeched at her from behind a thick, stone door. The voice paused, as if expecting a response. “I see you’re getting better at flying, Dearie. You know how it goes, though. If you hurt those beautiful wings, Hew won’t know how to fix them.”

The pegasus gulped. A ball of chilled saliva tormented her throat and nerves.

“Let me tell you a secret. I think Papa isn’t doing the right thing by making you bind them up when we’re not around. I know he’s only worried, but smothering you like that won’t help either.”

Her eyes narrowed. The red blot’s last whisper faded away in the returning winds. No one would fix her wings up should she take a spill so far out in the wilderness.

Alone.

Wasn’t that the point? Behind her goggles, the pegasus’s eyes fluttered. From the edges of her sight, the glass frosted over.

The true cold of the North bore down upon her. The second guesses cried in unison from the sting. With trepidation, she peeked over her shoulder.

No sign of that shining majesty. Only seas of snow. She turned her eyes forward once more after what felt like an eternity of searching.

The itch around her shoulders persisted, even though she was blind. The pull of the North stayed true to the migratory creature, so there was no doubt that she would find her way. The cradle of warmth she knew was beyond her reach, with as far as she’d come. Her beloved would be faced with the very real possibility that this was her last hurrah; her last act on this wonderful, wonderful world. A pegasus only knew, in their heart, the pull of the North. It was the purview of the earth pony to be pulled back by aspirations and commitments and relationships. It should have been all their own. The longing for home set in on the feeble pegasus, overpowering the drive to go forward.

An elbow bumped her side. The contact pulled her attention to the side, and she saw a face. Devoid of eyes, the head rested within folds of snow, riding the wind. The mouth moved, yet the words she heard hardly fit the enunciations. “I know you’re different, Cadie. I know you try your damndest to be strong, to hold your ground like the rest of us, but ya can’t. It ain’t right. Your body just can’t be strong the same way ours can.”

A powerful shift overtook the currents. Walls of wind crashed into each other in combat, leaving the pegasus to helplessly toss about. She gasped. Bone scraped higher up her shoulder, higher than it should have. Her wing became slack. The winds tossed her about, funneling her limp body downward.

Her consciousness snapped back. For the briefest moment, her eyelids faltered. She tore them open. The horizon rotated from beyond the swirls of snow. That face appeared between her eyes as two blurry images, which seemed to ignore the chaos all around it. Her head swam.

"You can't take risks like this, kid. You wanna spread your wings? Well, be ready to leave something behind every time you do. I might be the next thing to go."

She shrieked. Not fear. Anger. The useless wing whipped behind her back. The twister of the landscape settled into a perfect picture. She focused. The horizon closed in, jaws around her entire body.

She flared her good wing against the wind. Her joint screamed as the limp one did, but all of her aggression pooled to her breast, holding the limb out with iron force. Her wing burned with exertion and energy. The feathers shimmered and caught the flakes of snow, one by one. From her side to the joint to the tips of her pinions, scales of frost solidified to relieve her muscles. The hard part ended there.

Eyes turned to the ground. Her body stopped tumbling. The veil of snow thinned just enough to expose the landscape below. Her hooves swiped at the air. Not in panic anymore, but for something else. The air stirred about the pegasus, following the motions of her legs. Two small streams of wind reacted to her magic. One twirled about her body, and the other mirrored it. With a small droplet of clarity, the pegasus angled the two streams toward her frozen wing.

Her eyes bulged. A sheer slope barreled towards her, and at the base rested icy boulders. Her body rotated at last, angling the ice towards the ground. With all her might, she flared the curled wing under the ice. An explosion of glass raced towards the ground ahead of her, an array of deadly spikes. At the last second, her magic went wild, away from her grasp and into the cloud of icicles.

In an instant, the suction at the heart of vortex melded the ice together, less than a second left. The newly-sewn icicle at last gained the mass to escape the vortex, just as the winds pounded the earth below in a small explosion. The wave of pressure immediately flung the icicle towards the pegasus. The magic in her hooves flared. She threw out a foreleg blindly, and the icicle snapped onto it with a loud crunch.

She bit through her tongue. The rest of her hooves righted the ice. The tips of the trees rocketed by at last.

All her senses failed in the next moment. Time sped up and ran away with all her focus clenched in its jaw.

Walls of white erupted all around her.

Her joints crumpled together. Her skin tore; it must have. The ground roared beneath her, and in the next jolt of awareness, a deafening ring tortured her ears. A lead weight dropped in her belly; then, an eruption of pain across her entire body. A monolith tipped over onto her lungs, and the air left it.

The shredded bolt of her sight fluttered in consciousness. Sparks. Nothing.

***

The lone pegasus leaned against the tree.

Fire roared in the pit. She studied her hooves. The left forehoof bore a wicked crack, crusted in blood. The other appeared mostly unscathed. Most definitely unfitting for the rest of her appearance. Her frayed mane set in a hasty bun and anarchic coat more fitted a vagabond, yet her hooves appeared far too immaculate to indicate her journey was even past infancy.

Given her station, simple survival tricks were not easy to come by. Once more her cracked hoof met the well one. One little strike, and a shower of sparks rained. Her hairs stood on end about her good leg.

Alas, a whimper wormed its way between her lips. No longer did the limp, throbbing wing on her shoulder wane in silence.

A pair of red hooves took her bleeding left hoof between them. The pegasus winced. Pain had tripped the surprise on its way to her brain it seemed.

“Oh, look at you, you poor thing,” the mare said. Though she kept her head down, the pegasus gave the mare her full attention. “Your wing, it… it doesn’t look good.”

The pegasus sighed.

“I know you’re a mature filly, Cadenza. That’s why I’m telling you the truth. You wouldn’t ‘want it any other way’. Your words, yes?”

She swallowed. “Y-yes, Mother. Us ponies are tough as nails, and I c-can’t be weak.”

The mare’s hooves slackened a tad. “You have an earth pony’s heart.” The grip regained its strength. “I brought you up since you were a little foal, Cadenza. And let me say this: I’ve never seen a little filly get into so much trouble, get into so many scrapes, and still keep barreling through everything life throws at hers like you have.”

The wing throbbed once more, lancing pain down her spine and hip. A pained sob. “You think it’ll h-heal, Mother?”

The older mare hummed to herself, gently circling her hoof upon the pegasus’s ankle. “You’ll be just fine, Cadenza. As long as you can walk on home with me and your Father, that’s all that matters.”

Her mother stepped away.

The moon’s bluish glow painted, through the trees, the pristine quilts of snow around her camp. Only her own breathing signaled life in the forest. Dead silence poisoned the air with its aging flesh, flesh that settled upon its death some time ago. A web of frost bound her on the inside, staving off sleep and simple comfort with waves of biting cold.

She wanted to scream. Only thoughts of scavengers, holed up in the silence, stayed her coiling frustration. The throes of fantasy tempted her in place of sleep, and already she had given in once before. The all-encompassing woe that snared her with its black, crooked teeth snapped the strings binding her awareness to her body, one by one. It was so easy to simply... lay down...

She growled.

With her right hoof, she pulled herself closer to the flame. It's warmth wrapped her wits about her once more, and the chill upon her back tingled with intensity. The numbness failed to claim her lame wing. The pegasus ground her teeth.

She would die. If not then; if not there. No one would be looking for her. The lack of energy would creep upon her the more she spent her reserves to spark fires. With inarguably damaged legs, foraging fell far out of favor.

The wing. She needed it to be right, to carry her again. Yet, it dangled, free from its socket. The muscle must have been torn. The pain only screamed, didn’t tell her what was important. No, she screamed on the inside. The pain was too much. She was too little, too small to think beyond it. A shame. A waste. Worthless.

Something clicked in her ears, before she knew it. The bubbling mud of whispers overtook her one moment, but the air rushed back to her ears. All the quiet came back. Her legs trembled. When did she stand?

She stood before a stone, a short distance from the fire. That simple move jostled her wing enough to reignite the pain. The hairs on her jaw felt iced over as she worked it. Slowly, she forced her wing to curl inwards. A rain of red-hot arrows arced along the base and joint, halting her brave advance, and yet…

She swallowed back the snot and tears. A head of snow looked up at her from between her bruised forelegs. Like the snow, the eyes held no life, but they didn’t need to. The gaze of scorn was ever-etched into his face. Wouldn’t the general execute her for desertion? Wouldn’t she spare him the trouble and do it herself? No, she already had begun the process. The steel of winter pressed into her skin from all sides, but the little wick inside her heart burned yet. It could still be saved.

Though she tried to do so carefully, the most subtle slackening of her leg muscles rendered her descent into a sloppy tumble, which tossed about her wing. Stones ground in her ears, a high pitched creak. The trace of an echo, not unlike her voice, bounced between the trees. Her steely resolve whined under the weight of the pain.

No time to lose.

She wormed closer to the stone, and with all her strength she flexed the wing as far as it could go, wrapping about the heavy object.

Then, she rolled her shoulder forward. Gross, leathery agony rippled around her flesh. She pushed hard against the faceless enemy. Did it dare oppose her, a princess?

Her unmistakeable growls of pain broke through at last. It was her that sounded a broken beast. A beast. A monster. A creature that commanded respect. Her jaw dropped for just a moment, and a drop of slobber and snot peeled itself from the corner of her mouth. Pathetic beast. It could hardly take it.

Energy roared to life in her body. Still a monstrous, powerful creature she was. At last, her body jerked, and the tension faded in her shoulder. Shuddery breaths carried the life her body emanated in the lonely patch of wood, the sole resident. She hoped, anyways. Perhaps her display had scared even the creatures below the ground away. Somehow, the loss of the agony left a sense of loneliness.

She unscrewed her puffy eyes. Her head lay just before the mound of snow that looked to her, but the face had vanished.

A weary chuckle pushed by her lips and her cheeks took on a hue to oppose the dull pallor it once took. “O-old man. Did I scare ya? Huh? W-well? Heh.” she whispered to herself.

The trees were the last thing she could take in before unconsciousness seized her. All of the snow had fallen away from their branches for dozens of meters around.

Oh, her husband would be proud.

Author's Note

A bit of a change, mainly due to plans changing mid-write. Enjoy!

3 - In the Broken Light

The sling filled her with pride. So neat, and it held so firm. Her wing barely shifted, even after scaling steep hillsides. After a couple of days, her joints felt just well enough to be pushed again. The pegasus’s scant supplies did at least suffice for that recovery period, but food now stood as an immediate concern. Not at that very moment, however; the last of her stash had already filled her belly. It occurred to her as wise to be concerned, even if she felt good, all in all.

Snowstorms roared far, far behind her. The chilly woods hosted merely overcast weather. Threatening, but all bark. If the cold had toned back more, the climate would be just right. Her destination already felt within reach. The further west she traveled, the warmer it would get.

Upon encountering a mercifully worn path, devoid of vines and stones and sudden drops, she sighed in relief. Her pace slowed, and she felt no need to correct it. The trodden dirt alone made her feel far from alone. Safe. Given a chilly breeze from the south, she let her mane down at last to spare her cheek the brunt.

Her left ear twitched. Little steps pounded alongside her own. She permitted a small smile. “Tourmaline? What’s wrong this time, dear?” she spoke. Hopefully, no one was around to see her talking to herself.

“What’s wrong. What’s. Wrong?” her unseen companion spoke. “Princess! Look at you! You look like a vagabond who lost a fight with a polar bear!”

The princess clicked her tongue. “Oh, but Touri, what makes you think anyone would believe I lost a fight to a mere beast? I’d say to the poor creature: ‘Count your lucky stars I’m not partial to taking your hide a trophy!’” She gesticulated three little bounces with her forehoof. “Then he’d run for his life, having learned a lesson in humility and the ways of love! That’s what my official statement would be, anyways. My brother taught me well in the fine art of bull-crockery.”

Touri stamped twice and growled to herself. “That oaf Blueblood… at that rate, your lies would leapfrog into a giant space bear attacking. It’s better for a princess to be honest about her capabilities, rather than talk them up such that the people will believe her a goddess.”

“Tell my Auntie that.” A welcome breeze swept by, which she drank in greedily. The coolness felt as loving waters washing away the burn in her muscles from the lengthy hike. No one for miles and miles. Just her. Her and her thoughts. Touri’s hoofsteps already faded into a faint memory once more, as she had willed.

She could be a princess. A warrior. An explorer.

A child.

Anything she wanted out here. No one would judge her but herself.

The filly giggled to herself. Then, she shouted at the top of her lungs into the distance mountains, nothing but her diaphragm carrying it. That pegasus sorcery was against the rules!

The call echoed back to her after a few second. She shouted once more, a warbling battle cry cheapened by the indomitable laughter popping up like heated corn seeds and sweet chewing gum.

Snickering bombarded her all around. Her ears went low for a moment. What the hay was that? No soldier laughed on the battlefield! She took the derision in stride. A boyish voice took its turn: a low growl that crescendoed into a high yowl. Two of its companions joined out of turn. So too did the filly; that little embarrassment slipped her mind, as it did for all the others.

One by one, the voices turned into a cacophony of howls, a contest of volume, a chorus of harmonic wolves, then into a concerted effort to annoy the grown ups, then back around to the first thing…

Whatever that was!

Before she knew it, the hike turned into a frolic. A tune, one most likely composed by a pony with their head stuck in the ground near a babbling brook, overtook her throat. The hum, a strong vibration in her chest, rose and fell rhythmically, though at a pace not becoming of listenable music the grown-ups taught.

Her heart kept the tempo, and the beats of her hooves in the ground provided the backbeat. One so wild; so syncopated that it simply broke upon forehead on its way and failed to enter the ears as something resembling music, but rather the jarbled mess her excitement smashed it down to. The tune was no tune at all.

Just raw, simple energy. The shouts and snickers and tapered howls of her fellows smelled just like energy. Tasted like the red in their faces, felt like the fuzzy horizon bordered by the distant trees in the forest.

The filly reached a dip in the path, down to the lower shelf of the land. She readily scaled it. The descent added a tang of adrenaline and g-forces to her skipping, not unlike flying. Oh, she wished her parents would let fly once more. That last spill she took definitely spooked them. Heck, her legs and wing throbbed. The pain was… significant, but easily brushed aside. It had to have been; mother and father would clip her wings if she showed it.

The little jaunt dragged on and on, but at last the lock of hair which the band of children had seized it by snapped at the roots, dropping the merriment into a wide, cozy glade. Once the filly’s eyes focused again on the scene, all the laughter faded.

Quiet, fizzing water filtered through the glade. The princess fell to her knees. The aches became too much, and the high from her elation failed her at last. Hard did her smile fight, and it remained fast on her lips. The pain at the precipice of perception could not crush that hope. She refused to give into it. That would be treason to her ideals. Unforgivable.

Too many counted on her hope themselves.

The princess's long legs took long strides in the tall grass; a wade in the green pool. The winds about her body parted the waves before her and in her wake. The air of a ruler, old scholars had called it. A flow that told the disposition of a pegasus. The heart on her tribe's sleeve. Greyed channelers and seasoned warriors knew well how to tame it.

The princess could hold this air at the age of fifteen. The best part of her deception, with no question. She was a feeble pegasus. Worthless.

The droves of blades waved to her, even then. They bent back in the breeze, then forward in prostration. Emotion circulated much the same. ‘Gentle strength’; her steps were crafted to match that theme, the one repeated over and over in her mind. If her subjects were to see this in their beloved princess, they would behave much like the grass all around her. The strength she parted to them, the fake show, would return to her the strength needed to keep her head up. To rise from her bed each day. The dedication to that promise overshadowed the guilt of her deceptions.

Too many counted on the princess for her petty feelings, her meaningless identity and past, to get in the way. Even if she was a fake, she was still raised to be a princess.

The princess paused at the center of the glade. Her ears swiveled to the left. The wind carried no message to her. But the growing pit in her gut yelled it quite clear.

If she were to die out here, she would be letting her subjects down, all for the sake of a selfish journey.

Then, they swiveled to the right. Distant branches snapped, and the stench of smoke reach her nose. Her eyes widened. She fought back against her sudden dread, yet a lone tear escaped.

“A f-fake couldn’t p-p-protect them,” she whispered to herself, ducking low into the grass. She covered her head with both forelegs, and buried her face into the dirt. “T-they’ll kill me. Oh Goddess, they’ll kill me.”

Fierce shouts mixed in with the sharp snaps of a pained forest. She dared to peek skyward, where a plume of smoke drew near. Ponies called clear commands to each other. Barks of stress and tension, not unlike her husband while on the field. Their words hardly made sense to the filly.

The mud sucked her hooves into the ground. The distress of her neighbors tugged her toward the dark cloud. To hide and follow father’s orders, or to fight against them?

A roar of clarity. The feel of her hearing split upon the wedge of the dreadful cry sent its message, just as the phantom shouts intensified. That thing… that thing was real.

Her wings flared. She whimpered. The stamping and snapping drew ever closer, straight for her. It wanted her blood, her dirty, shameful blood. That blood gave power to her wings, and her wings prepped for flight without a thought. That thing could never reach her, up in the skies. Just like before, she’d be safe. Safe from harm.

Between the cracks in her eyes stepped her mother’s red hooves. A narrow triangle of daylight peeked from the curtain with sights to the damp earth at the pegasus’s hooves, which her mother hastily draw back shut. “Tsk. When will that lazy stallion show up? I paid him beforehoof. He could at least show some courtesy.”

The filly gave a little pout. “I must be the only kid around here who actually wants a private tutor for once, too.” The pleasant scent of the soil drifted into her nostrils. “He’s the only pony here who knows about weather stuff, isn’t he? Do you think he knows why the eastern mountains are always covered in snow, when our side is so warm?”

“I’m sure he could tell you the truth, but… many of us still like to think the old stories were true, Cadenza.” Her mother stepped away, in a steady pace that eased the filly’s squirrely excitement. “I do remember Trotter telling me that the mountains hold back the cold winds from the north after all, but old wisdom said that we lived in a bowl of warmth. All the ice and snow couldn’t even touch the ground in our beautiful land as long as Mother’s Flames burned under our land.”

A little sigh passed from the filly’s lips. “I flew to Mount Lowen before, mother. It looks dead as a doornail. Do you think it’d ever erupt again?”

The bang of a hammer cracked against the walls of her home. A tantalizing crunch followed. “Mmm! These walnuts are to die for, Cadenza. Your father knows just what to bring home, doesn’t he?” After a tense, aggressive silence from the filly, her mother giggled. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t think we’ll see it in our lifetimes, frankly. However, there’s bit of a rumor that never quite caught on with the village. It was speculated that some creature deep below the ground was responsible for that catastrophic eruption.”

Her heart quickened. “C-creature?”

“Yes, a creature. Daresay, the myth even states that it is the Mother’s Flame. The creature’s own fire burning within its body gives warmth to us, all while it gently sleeps under our hooves. They say all the love and care we give to the land as we work with and live off it gives Mother her life, and she gives it back as the warmth that keeps us safe.”

The curtain cracked once again, wider this time. “Oh! He’s coming, Cadenza. I suggest you get off the floor now. You’re not some mutt, are you?”

The pegasus whimpered. Why was she so frightened all of a sudden. “W-what did they call ‘Mother’? What is she?”

The curtains opened wide, heralding the grey light of the glade. The earthy breeze kicked up again. The scent of lovely flowers so too faded. Mother, her mother, was gone. Deafening, the snap of a mighty trunk felled under a great, ferocious weight curdled her blood. A sudden blanket of heat drew even more sweat from her brow. As discreetly as she could, the pegasus raised her head. The tears made her vision bleary, but there was no mistaking.

The creature rose its beak in the air, and as its jaw worked a bony scrape irritated the pegasus’s bowels. The stains of blood blossoming on the underside of the large beak faintly sparkled in the overcast light. The monstrosity slithered closer, rearing back at what she hoped was its full height, given it nearly surpassed the trees.

The draconian head craned about. Its eye to match scanned the glade. Heavy, shuddering breaths reverberated from the wurm’s throat, two solid stone lobes flapping in the passage of air. So overbearing the sound was, that the pegasus mistook it for her own breaths. In truth, her breathing had hitched to a complete stop.

The little pony did her best to keep still. She knew well enough that the wurm could snatch out of the air at this distance. The silent beast simply craned its head about, almost disinterested with its pace. Birds fluttered away, and the bushes all around ruffled from sudden evacuations.

Simply morsels.

The wurm ducked back to the ground after an eternity passed. Why? Did it not see her? Smell her? Did it pick up on something else? The ground rumbled as it slithered on past. Jets of steam hissed up into the air from the pocked hide of the wurm, not unlike a train in motion. Merely a few yards from the pegasus, one of the scalding jets torched the grass and kicked the singed blades about. She curled up even tighter, praying to the moon.

Familiar carnage filled the air. Then, it faded.

The sun set at last.

The pegasus merely lay in the dirt and sobbed.

4 - Though Your Eyes Are Dim...

The royal chambers. Lilac filled up her view. The absence of warmth at her side compounded the sense of wrongness. The princess sat up and rubbed her eyes, scuffing the horn upon her head. Strike two, her mind noted. The canopy and drapes encasing the bed fit the bill, and yet…

To her right, the moonlight flooded the curtain. The shadow of another pony out on the balcony stood, unmoving. Judging by the point at the crown of her head and the set of flared wings, it was an alicorn much like herself. With bated breath, the princess sidled to the edge of the bed. Her magic did the work of pulling the drapery aside, and she set bare hoof to the hard floor. Her legs could only bear her for a few steps, before she had to plop to the floor and pant.

That trek lead her close enough to the balcony doors. The starry mists about the alicorn gazing upon the princess’s kingdom captivated her exhausted mind. Navy aura gently pushed the doors inward, and her chime-like voice drifted inside.

A few soft notes to some song preceded her greeting. “Good evening, Cadance. I felt you call to me once more.”

The alicorn didn’t budge. With a grumble, the princess crawled along the floor and out to the balcony, alongside her newfound companion. A little smile played upon her lips. The princess followed her gaze out to the lightly shaded city, pulling herself up by and onto the rail for a better vantage. Even at night, the brilliant crystal that comprised her kingdom positively glowed. The alicorn’s gaze followed the flares and deaths of light about the sleeping city.

“It is a truly breathtaking view, my neice,” she whispered. “Tis a sickening tragedy, methinks, that this beautiful kingdom fell into darkness for so long. Who could imagine my Equestria and your Crystal Empire with a sterling, millennia-long friendship between each other had that not been the case?”

The princess pursed her lips. “You know damn well and good why I called you here. And if you do, then I’m sure you’ll agree that your presence is no longer necessary. It never was.”

The alicorn perked a brow. “Oh? Are we giving lip to the princess of dreams, now? How rude; to call me by your side, then let your silly ego get to you.”

She snorted. “‘Ego’? Hardly. If anything, I feel more like dirt than a garden does.” The princess took her temples in both forehooves. “You can’t help me, auntie. No one can. I let my fear get to me, and now that’s just another shame I have to live with.” After a deep swallow, the princess spat to the side and took a few, calming breaths. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

A hoof laid gently upon the princess’s shoulder. “Be silent, my niece

“To overcome that fear, like I told you before.”

“‘Tis impossible,” the alicorn said plainly. She glanced at the gaping princess and chuckled. “What I meant to say was: it’s impossible to not be afraid, Cadance. No brave pony ever lived without fear. Nay; the fear for the worst creates strides for the best. Were we not running from misfortune, we would never find the very fortunes we seek.

“You hold your guilt and refuse to let it go. That is, to put it one way, a defective mockery of bravery. You fear accepting your mistakes, and becoming a worse pony for it. You fear being content and to forget, instead of torturing yourself every day to remember. You fear letting go of old faces, and not hanging their murderer by hanging yourself. You fear the truth of who you are coming out to Shining Armor, and then to Twilight Sparkle then Celestia then the whole wide world. And yet, it is only you who see yourself as the monster.”

The city lights buzzed with life, drawing the princess’s focus in. She could feel the alicorn studying her face, so she withheld any shift in her expression. “Perhaps that’s true, auntie Luna. I’m their only witness. I’m the only one who can cry and mourn for them. I… I want so badly to tell their story, so that I’m not the only one anymore, but… b-but ponies believe in me. Who’s to say their faith won’t be betrayed if they knew what I had done? How could they trust a coward like me? A weak, worthless—”

Her head spun. The rail of balcony dug into her shoulder blades, and the dark figure of the alicorn loomed over her. She moved her foreleg to caress her throbbing cheek, but the alicorn’s hoof all but stomped it back to the ground.

Those emerald eyes bore into her. “I shall cut thy tongue from thy mouth if you speak once more in that manner. Are we clear?” the alicorn hissed.

“Auntie, I—”

In one swift motion, the alicorn rammed her skull in the princess’s, ground snout against snout and nearly pierced through the stricken mare with her leer. “Are. We. Clear?”

“N-no!” Her legs and their newfound strength pushed the alicorn, tossing her to her back upon the stone floor. The impact seemed to knock the air from her lungs, for she didn’t immediately rise to rip the unruly princess to shreds. She bit her lip and sidled back to the balcony doors. “You can’t make me do that, auntie. You just can’t!”

A chill ran down her spine. Two gangly, perforated legs snaked around her neck.

“Of course she can’t, Little Luna,” purred the the voice next to her ear, laced in an unnatural timbre. “Why, she surely didn’t put up much of a fight against little old me. All I needed was the right words and, hmm, just the right spots to send her kneeling and begging before me.”

The princess stared straight ahead, shaking badly in the witch’s grasp. The haze of shadow that began to cup the balcony forced her eyes shut, just like before. She tried to curl up and forget it all, but the wicked legs pulled her closer to the emaciated form behind her. A loving little coo hummed into and throughout the princess’s spine. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“And let’s not forget how my pretty little princess couldn’t even save her kingdom. She just held the parasol over everyone’s heads while they did all the work.” Her captor scoffed. “Not to say I’m surprised a cow like Celestia would raise such a dud.”

Another set of arms embraced the princess, just as the witch’s embrace melted away. Her eyes shot open. The black mists had faded, and the heavenly mist of her companion sparkled her eye. Softly, as if she might shatter, the alicorn’s hoof stroked her neck.

“Let it all out, my nephew,” she spoke softly. Was she crying? “You’ll always be safe in your dreams, Cadance. Always. I swear on my life, you will.”

Her hesitation crumbled, and she pulled her aunt closer.

The princess bawled.

***

The alicorn’s pleads melted in the sunrise.

Princess Cadance opened her eyes, slow to accommodate the light. Naturally, she had tossed onto her back in her sleep, which explained the stiffness she felt, having slept in the dirt all night. A hoof swept her forehead for assurance that Luna hadn’t roped her back into sleep.

An unpleasant stench urged her to her hooves, then to seek the nearest body of water once the stickiness on her coat wriggled her nerves. She blushed all the way, even though the wurm must have scared off every other living thing from the area. In fact, a simmer of giggles bubbled to life from the pegasus. How ridiculous she must have looked…

With that nice, relaxing dip in the nearest lake she found, the dread from last night became a distant memory. Perhaps, as a princess, she had comparted her fear into Luna; a lopsided exchange.

Madmare!

Fool!

It’s suicide!

She snickered. With a smirk, the pegasus kicked back against the edge of the lake.

“Perhaps chasing a remorhaz is mad, Auntie Luna,” Cadance said to herself. “Still, didn’t you tell me that facing your fears is therapeutic?” The princess puffed her cheeks. “I’ll have you know that I’m experienced in wurm-handling, dear aunt. Ask Twily about it, even. I showed her the ropes.”

Her reflection tapped her chin. “Perhaps this is some bilious version of ‘courage’ I’m feeling. Maybe I have lost my mind?”

She struck the water with her hoof. “Psh. It was holding me back. It’s a sick foal, Cadance. We’re out here, looking for the cure. Why in the world would we force it to tag along with us? It could die.”

The broken waters nodded back to her. “You do have a point. Shall we, then?”

“Indeed. Let’s not let that monster get away from us.”

For the first time since the blizzard, Cadance took to the air. It required some stretches, but her healing wing supported her just fine both in the liftoff, then the glide. Just as well, her legs only felt stiff, as if she had ran too much rather than crashed into the earth with crushing force. Tenacity; was it her earth pony upbringing, or her pegasi blood, that filled her with it?

As the pegasus scanned the world below, she noted the evergreen trees; wow they could withstand the cold and persist through any condition. Every limb reach upward to the temperamental sky, feasting upon every last trace of light that one day poured freely, then the next penetrated the metallic cloud cover. Born of the earth, just like her. Of limbs, she was queen. Strong legs, and the flights of fancy in her wings. The powerful forces locked in her vanished horn roiled deep in her body now.

“You should be afraid, remorhaz,” she grunted.

The queen held her head high.

***

Days went by. Cadance flew strong as ever, armed with the conclusion that the wurm hid underground once more. Her wings carried her with such speed, that her Wonderbolts would gawk. A wurm as large as the remorhaz had no hope of outpacing her anyways. She noted that its warpath ended about forty five miles from the glade, closer to the warm west that she would have expected from the species.

That suited her plans just fine, and she flew on. On the fifth day, she spotted a crater. Even without the lifetime of memories, the sight would have drawn any explorer in. A quarter of a mile in diameter, the crater bordered a steep cliff which accented the grievous scar upon the forest’s face. On the horizon, an even more massive and chilling crater loomed, billowing steam to rival the clouds that the eastern wind would carry over to the forest.

Even upon touching down at the border of the small crater, Mount Lowen occupied most of the northern sky. An unbidden shudder overcame Cadance.

Home.

Even cocooned in bravado, the pegasus stepped with trepidation through the treeline. The sight of the first cabin dealt a blow to her gut. Like a charred pustule, the frayed remains encircled the debris that likely fell inward and coalesced into a gross crust within. Through the shattered window, only mounds of darkness remained.

It was a house, she realized. The small size and lack of extensions showed the building to be a cozy, welcoming nest, and a small spoonful of eagerness spilled into Cadance’s heart. She circled about, searching for the doorway, but the disgusting burns upon the wood splintered her little fantasy in short order. When she encountered the knob, in its miraculously pristine state, she stopped her hoof just inches away from it.

The pegasus slowly backed away. Judging by the voices from inside, simply barging in unannounced would be crazy.

Lowen must have silently erupted, hidden by the voices. From the corner of her eyes, but never quite in her sight, bits of debris rained from the sky, compiling all around as lushly lit structures, tinted pink. At once stained by age and dashingly new, the village took root once more.

Her muscles refrained from response, until the maddeningly simple genesis of her delusion completed in a time frame smaller than a blink. The shuffling, the shouts and the murmur of life seeped from the earthen air, the air that choked the breath from Cadance under her nose. Her legs fell out from under her when the pain in her chest came to a point.

Baby blue hooves skittered into her sight. “Cadie! Quit lazing around and come on! The stallions just got back, and who knows how good’s the gettin’!” They went on her way before she could get a good look or even respond. Was it even a pony who spoke to her? Her awareness, even her thought, bent around the mysterious pony. A hole in reality.

No, no. How would she know if there was a hole in reality? Even if it were possible, she’d be subject to reality just the same. She’d never notice.

Pebbles cascaded down the cliff face from afar, and a gust with gusto swept between her legs. The little blue pony’s tail wrapped around the corner of a building as they disappeared from the scene. Ponies had tails, they did.

The air tasted of delectable ash mixed with savory scents of food. That was as real as it could get.

That meant Papa was really home! She galloped after the blue pony’s trail. Cadance weaved through the thick, faded crowds and bright buildings. Some of the ponies waved to her. Others made way for the stampeding alicorn. Whether it was routine or because of the threat now between her eyes, she couldn’t say anymore.

When did it come back to her? No, no. No time to think about silly things.

Cadance took the turn the blue pony took, though a moment too late. Her shoulder scraped the corner of the cabin, leaving a black mark upon her coat. She nearly skidded to a stop to observe the bizarre sight, but a phantom shove kept her going, kept her eyes forward.

Her path made an arc, southern-bound. The caravan usually arrived from that direction, every time. A wide, wondrous land lay below their little hole in the wall, and every year her papa and all the other stallions went into that land, where they sought things the village didn't know it needed. Lights at the push of a button. Flasks of miraculous potions. Titanium tacks.

A bulwark of bodies covered the perimeter of the fairground upon her arrival. The giddy alicorn sidestepped to and fro, seeking some opening in the crowd. It was only polite to keep her hooves to the ground...

She paused yet again; low to the ground and caked with dust. Why was she playing pretend, like some madmare? The fairgrounds—

Bustled with life!

Her wings fluttered. Cadance turned to scowl at the appendages. ‘Cheaters!’ she scolded, then ducked back down on a prowl. Just as expected, the adults stepped aside a little to allow little Cadance passage, once she did find a hole in the defenses. The fat saddlebags many bore added to the challenge, which suited her just fine. Even amongst the erratic, living thicket, her internal compass didn't lead her astray. No, looking up at the sky also broke her rules. The sun didn't exist to the alicorn.

“Closer, closer! Not too close, though. This next little piece is quite temperamental and delicate, like my little girl,” called out a strong, familiar rasp. A pout set on Cadance’s lips. “The professors at the esteemed University of Belmopon claim that these curious crystal skulls predate, not just their own country, but… all of history itself!”

A wave of gasps swirled amongst the crowd. Cadance growled. Sandwiched between the hefty bookbinder and his heftier wife, the wave — hissing just so — shook her senses for a moment. The temptation of seeing her papa blended now with the needling curiosity his pitch threw to her. The way her wings shivered with the anticipation… it nearly drove her mad. Still, she stayed low to the ground.

“...and some whisper that this ancient race even lit the Mother’s Flame itself! All this ‘wild’ speculation may live up to its name, you say, but to you skeptics, let me spell it out a different way. ‘Bragging rights’. What better thing to add to your collection than one of these little curios that boggled the minds of the curious for centuries?”

The rising voices of the front line drowned out the rest of what she assumed was some boring ‘orderly line’ tripe. The hype papa kicked up made for a far better finale to his pitch, she felt. It was unbearable, but he’d be upset to see her abuse her wings again. She slithered between the legs of the adults, brushed away the youngsters, sniffed the air. She was close, so close…

Why was there so many ponies in the crowd?

It was a forest; not a crowd. And she’s come upon her quarry any moment—

“Cadie!” said the hoof that slapped her on the back. Boy, did her legs send her to take-off from the shock! When gravity sent her reeling, those arms of his caught her with just a slight grunt. The alicorn uncurled after a second or two, and looked up into her father’s…

Nothing. Just like the blue foal, who stood just a few feet back.

“Were you up to your games again, sweetie?” he said to her. With a smirk? It felt like it. It ‘should’ have been a smirk, just like she remembered.

The dirt dulled the warmth in her coat, along her sides as she lay in the dirt. The village allowed a whistle of wind to sing out, free from drowning in the murmur of life. Cadance looked to her side again, upon the empty fairgrounds. His hoof turned her head back, in no direction at all. His being looked into her eyes, poured into it and invaded them one at a time.

“What’s wrong, child?” He hummed. “Oh, of course. You were worried about Yama, weren’t you? Yes, we took her to the finest doctors in Canterlot. You wouldn’t believe it, but she actually woke up for a little bit! You were right about her; she did have a heart in that chest of hers. Couldn’t stop thanking me for being the father of that beautiful alicorn that saved her.

“You’re a hero, Cadenza.”

The alicorn’s heart quivered. She attempted to pierce the blue monstrosity by the side of the one whom held her; pierce with the strongest gaze she could muster. It spoke.

Words.

Assent.

The cloy of the assent. She couldn't will it away. No matter how she tried, she couldn't forget that.

“Stop.”

The blue foal stepped closer. He adored her.

“Lying.”

He turned to papa. And then, he said he wanted to be like her.

“To your…”

“Oh, is that so, son? I’d say you two have a lot to learn from each other; not just you from her. Isn’t that right, Cadenza?”

She lunged. Her papa, despite his great size, stumbled from her glancing blow. She went for the throat of that blue thing. Its shoulders crunched under her hooves. Suffering meant nothing when spoken into her mind. The blue one cried in pain, it read. She smelled the fear, and when her teeth dug into its jugular, it tasted as dirt would. It sprayed into her eyes, and heavy hooves pounded at her back. Teeth twisted her wing, and it seared.

She didn’t care.

A twitch tingled her spine, and the anger vanished. A mess of blood and frayed tissue met her vision. An unearthed branch rest in the flesh, white as snow and not unlike a column. She couldn’t see the blue creature’s eyes, but her mind screamed. Oh, how he cried. Her wing tore from her back in a pop, a painless pop of tendons. The air twisted and pulled on her remaining wing, relieving that poor, blue rat of her assault. Abandoned assault. She felt anger no longer, just as the winds carried her away from the broken body.

Down below, the crowd of ponies watched her as some heavenly being pulled her further and further away. Instead of heads, the ponies faced the alicorn with deep, black plates, knitted to their necks by fur. The sunlight funneled into their faces, draining all the beauty of the fairgrounds. Her little rat lay at the center, cradled in papa’s hooves. His black plate lay a few feet away at the end of a blood trail.

She closed her eyes. A gentle chill stroked her mane.

***

Two kicks and the rain fell. Without hesitation, Cadance let the droplets fall into her mouth. Four spits of mud turned to water at last, and she scrubbed the runoff off her chest.

Cadance felt good after that.

Never before had the nightmare ended that way. Never before did she not simply lay down and die at the end. Was it Luna’s purview that she gained some insight on? It was far too obvious; any worthy monster would hide in the skin of an innocent child. The shock of attacking it through its treacherous disguise must have loosed its chains upon her. She felt as light as air now.

What did the wurm’s blood look like, she wondered?

The alicorn gently waved off the little bit of cloud. Hovering so high above the sunny crater, she felt a tingle in her belly. The crater appeared to her a cradle, in some manner. She felt a warm, deep and invigorating love for the broken buildings and scarred land down below. From the town hall as the head, to the residencies as the little legs. The fairgrounds were bare of grass, for so often the child’s toys mingled on that spot. With a little bit of willpower, Cadance tore herself away from the child.

Off to the east she flew, and after only a few minutes a dome of black vines crept up between the green trees. The thought of seeing it once more put the alicorn on edge, but the trepidation pulled her closer. Where everything had changed, inside that lair. Where nothing that changed mattered, in the end.

At the foot of the dome, Cadance set her horn alight, bright enough that she had to close her own eyes to begin to tolerate it. Her mane flapped away from it due to the turbulence at the point of the horn, and her coat around the base let off an unpleasant, burning stench. Clunky as it was, her spell worked wonders, and the vines burned in twain. A quick arc was her incision, dropping a chunk to leave a hole just big enough for her body to fit through. She peeked her head in first.

The blackness bore down on her.

A lance of dread wracked her gut. The bizarre stench and inky black made the alicorn recoil after a few moments. She fell to her back before she knew it, and stared up at the top of the vine dome. The thing, all those years ago, had been impenetrable. Her papa, then a roaming scientist, and then the militia all gave it a crack after she had escaped its birth, just barely. Nothing even scratched it.

The scientist quizzed the newly minted alicorn for a few weeks after, hastily instilling the basics of magic into the little filly, but her growth proved frustratingly slow. Too slow, and he abandoned the task. For her part, Cadance refused to approach the dome anymore after that. No one had blamed her. In a letter, Yama begged them to let that horrible artifact be forgotten in that impervious globe.

Oh, many shall try, young Cadenza. I fear that, one day, a bright mind may stumble his way to the rumored place, and with the evil sorcery that only progress could birth, he’d find a way in. And that monster would know the light of day again. It is reckless of me, at once to worry about things bound for times long past my own; and to pass it off, and live out my years without seeking a permanent solution. You and I, we’re the only ones who understand what that amulet is. Soon, you will be the one who solely bears its burden.

What will be a lifetime to me will be a blink of an eye to you. It WILL be soon, I can promise you. I pray to the Mother that you discover the breadth of your gifts, and with them you destroy that amulet once and for all. Perhaps this is its way of selecting you, Cadenza. If no mortal can break its shell, then perhaps

Perhaps you

You will be a mighty alicorn, once you mature. Countless ponies will give you their thanks for all the good you will do. I know it.

“A mighty alicorn,” Cadance repeated to herself. She glanced towards the setting sun. “If only you could see me now, Yama. Brother, papa, m-mama.” The alicorn curled up, but no tears came. “How pathetic are you, Cadance? Are you seriously considering using it?”

“Of course, my dear. Only I know of it now. It belongs to me by definition. By right. We shall tame its power, as the Alicorn of Love. What it corrupted was a mere mortal, after all.”

“You’re delusional. You let everyone you claimed to care about down, and you cry yourself to sleep more than a child does. What gives you the delusion that you have the will to tame that spirit inside of the amulet?”

“We did it once. Our horn is proof.”

“It’s a false alicorn’s horn.”

“We flew on only our wings to this place. A normal pegasus would have made a fine ice sculpture through such weather.”

“You only hid your shame and convinced yourself you were a normal pegasus. No. Your honor is gone. You’re less than a normal pegasus.”

“I don’t care for words anymore. We need to feel strong, Cadance. If love is your strength, then so is hate. Love shapes one around the world, and hate shapes the world around one. I need you to feel it, Cadance. Feel what Yama felt. You’ll never let go of the guilt. Why not crush — why not make example of that wurm, and prove to yourself that you are far from weak? You wanted to be a strong leader, didn’t you?”

“Do what, exactly, Cadance? Talk with the remorhaz? Reason with it?”

She bit her lip. “I… I want to kill it. Even if it’s an unthinking monster, I need to destroy all the hate in my heart somehow. But to take a life, I— “

“Are you seriously feeling guilty over this? You wanted to prove yourself as a pegasus, didn’t you? That’s the talk of a weakling, not of a pegasus. If that doesn’t appeal to your conscience,” she spat, “then all you need do is to review the body count Celestia’s aide put on file for this goddess-forsaken place.”

No thought came. She studied her hooves. “I…”

A hoof lifted her chin up to face the darkness up ahead. “And it’ll happen again. And again. Again, until you waste away in your weakness. Forgiveness is a concession. It’s asking for this to happen. Vengeance is the only way, Cadance. You need this amulet.”

Cadance shot to her hooves. The ground trembled below, forcing her to lean against a tree for support. “Not like this!”

“Yes!” cried Cadance. “You’re better than that fool Sombra. You won’t torch your people with fear, oh no. You’ll make anyone who dares threaten what you love tremble with it.”

“It’s not—”

The earth shook harder. A landslide of tension rocked her lungs and heart.

That was no hallucination. She whipped around. Dust rained from the surface of the dome with the next tremor. Where the land met the vines, an opening, small as it was, grew. Another strike, and the dome inched upward. Just as soon, its own weight pulled it back down.

The remorhaz. Why was it attacking the dome? Her eyes turned to the maw of her making. The new tremor at last compelled her to take to the air, and she cursed under her breath. Her sharp eye followed the jittering pebbles about the dome. Just very slight shift amongst them followed the curve of the dome.

The wurm was looking for a weak point.

She had made one just for it.

There was little mistake that the two sought the same thing.

“But how?!”

The earth folded and crumpled behind the dome.

“Why?”

Then, it bubbled. The stone beak crowned from the pit of molten earth as steam hissed from its corners. Then, the glowing, claret eyes rose as well. The thing must have been blind, and yet it watched. Cadance strafed to the side opposite of the remorhaz while it still unearthed itself. It knew she was there in the night sky. She could feel it.

A thought struck her. “Magic,” she whispered. “It couldn’t see me before because I locked mine up so tight. It devours magic so it can keep up its body heat. It can sense the amulet, and it wants it.” She shivered. “That’s what drew them here last time, wasn’t it?”

The wurm curled around the dome for leverage. By the time its whole body resurfaced, it formed an arc greater than half the dome’s circumference. It wouldn’t take long for it to find the wound. Cadance descended with haste towards her self-made entrance, caught between the tail and head of the beast. Uncaring, the remorhaz hooked its beak upon the grooves of the vines. Its neck trembled with the sheer force the jaw exerted. Fruitless, however.

The dark didn’t shift from the lashes of the tail and incisions of the beak; a thick, suspended fluid. The amulet rest inside. She raised a hoof, then set it down.

“I’ll be trapped if I go in,” she muttered. Her brow dripped with sweat, mere moments after touchdown. “It’d cook me alive if I did that. I can’t slay it if I don’t take the chance, though.”

The wurm shifted, and her heart leapt to her throat. The head slithered a few meters closer to the opening, taking a new angle which to attempt its rending. The temporary lapse of composure ceased within the second. She couldn’t let on what a tasty treat she could be! For now, the amulet’s wild energy held all of the remorhaz’s attention. Her opening.

It would seek her the moment she approached the exit with it in hoof. She’d die on the spot with a single mistake. If she didn’t act soon, the wurm would crack the shell with her unintentional help. All its heat would no longer be focused in its muscles. She could never contest the amulet if its heat once again poured from its hide.

The dark merely watched. The point of no return.

With her head high, the queen stepped forward.

5 - ...All of the Pieces in the Sky

Yama walked with her, shoulder to shoulder. The heat suffocated the alicorn, whilst the earth pony stepped through the charged air. Only the blue light of her horn guided the pair, and the dull vines ate the light up. What remained was an infinite flue of black ink all around. The barren ground right at her hoof was all that her horn could reveal, and droplets of sweat that fell into it left beads of light in her wake.

The earth pony left no such mark. When she spoke, tawny wire spilled from her mouth rather than a voice. She could hardly remember it. ‘Measures, Cadenza. This won't last forever. You've got to learn yourself about these things. You’re a child. Yet, you’re a celestial being. The Goddess visited you at our most dire hour and bequeathed the opportunity to grow. To lead. Whether you like it or not, Cadenza, is of no consequence now.

Our petty society bred a weak mind into you, but you must fix it. Transcend your petty desires, as you did for that short moment. Your perfection saved my soul from that demon. Though I’m interned on Equestrian soil, my heart belongs to you. I will not let myself waste away without parting my lifetime of wisdom to you, Cadenza.

My first lesson, Princess, is measures. You do not have the luxury of simply brushing things under the rug. Your existence itself is a tantalizing chip on the world’s table. Resolve all conflicts. Calculate your mercy; do not withhold it nor treat it as charity. The landmark that the demon created will surely catch some greedy trailblazer’s eye in years to come. You can’t let the Amulet exist where you have no eyes. Once you find your holy strengths, you may, once and for all, penetrate its shell and destroy it. Do not let fear control you. An Alicorn ruled by fear is…’

“A sheer disgrace, Yama.” Cadance flared her horn. The light caught the dim form of something up ahead. “I know what I am. If I were in Celestia’s shoes, I never would trust such a majestic empire to such a worthless ruler. A childish, immature pegasus. I smiled on that coronation day, but deep down I could only see Celestia using me as a gross insult to that Empire.”

‘Bah! Your self-flagellation grows tiresome. You’re not making yourself look better to me, Cadenza. Ungrateful survivors are the true insult. You never would have taken the Sun’s hoof if you didn’t feel the slightest bit of selfishness, would you have? No sane mortal would lay amongst that carnage and deny such timely salvation. But to take that salvation itself is a sign of selflessness. Don’t you understand, Cadenza?’

“You speak nonsense, Yama. I should expect no less from an old mare.”

‘You know who you are, as do I. A creature such of yourself is destined to live a life of suffering. A mortal would have chosen to die, then and there.’

The shape of a humble stone cabin bloomed into view. Scarlet-brown stained the edges of the door, especially at the hinges. The alicorn knelt down at the portal, putting her hoof to the stone. The phantom of Yama stepped forward, then settled onto the dirt. The lines upon lines of wire which spelt out her speech fluttered overhead, losing its intelligible shapes. Quietly, the older mare tucked her head between her forelegs and curled up, just like before. To Cadance’s dismay, the ghost evaporated out of sight.

She shook her head. With force, her hoof pressed against the door. Resistance came with its age, but her strength quickly overcame it. Dust rained from the ceiling and clouds of darkness billowed from either side of the door. The sheer negativity came close to anchoring her hooves to the ground with leaden weight.

The simple dining table greeted her. The air lent the sensation of slithering to her legs. Slither she did, until she could prop her forelegs on the table. Despite what her memories lead her to believe, the surface was near immaculate. Dusty, but presentable.Just off center, she remembered the amulet laying upon the table. Did Yama have her circle to the other side? Was her back to Cadance when she first stepped in? It must have been. It felt a tad poetic. Perhaps Yama faced her. The temptation was strong to remember things in a more dramatic light.

Even moments like this were undignifying to the actors. Likely, Cadance probably shivered with fright. Yama was just as scared of the intruder. The power dynamic was reversed. Maybe they Amulet had them both at its mercy.

How she stepped into this fateful moment, she couldn't say.

Her horn flared. All manner of frames surrounded her, upon shelves or nailed to the wall. Insects, a variety, many she couldn’t even begin to name, sit lifeless in every one.

An old foalhood friend knew Yama. They enjoyed her collection, despite the mare’s feared reputation. Did they have friendship? A meaningful bond? It could have been how Cadance got through the Amulet’s hold. Not anything she did, but rather her friend. They deserved what she had gotten, if that was the case.

Cadance shook her head. No time to go down that road. Like a creaking battleship, only the vague sounds of the waves slapping the earthen hull clued her that anything was amiss. Stains led to the hallway, and she followed. A blind and bumbling giant, lead by dwarves into a trap.

Her, or the remorhaz? Did she underestimate it, or did it underestimate her? The creature knew that its prey was just inside here. It saw her enter. Was it unthinking? Or: did it think her a weak morsel?

Stairs. The chill air came as a surprise, a pleasant one. The slowly heating air stifled. She didn't like it. The pale wood beneath her hooves looked warped. The tight corridor pushed Yama’s collection into her face. The wings and carapaces of her insects flaked into tatters. The shifty temperature at the heart of the cabin was to blame, she figured.

The stains scurried beneath a heavy stone panel. Ropes coiled on top of it, fixed to a bolted-on handle. The little pulley system. Despite the circumstance, Cadance chuckled.

“Only a filly as dumb as me would think you could slow a demon down by trying to lock them in. Surprised it actually worked.”

Her icy magic lifted the bulky slab as if it were foam. A quick glance told her that there was no where to set it aside. Crumble it did. Her teeth bared with the strain, but the stone powdered in short order. The little exercise helped clear her head.

She hopped. Her wings gently lowered her into the darkness, truly pitch darkness. Cadance glided down the dirt slope, precise enough to avoid touching the ground above and below her. Her eyes had finally adjusted. The dirt below yielded nothing. The stains must have sunk in. She feared kicking something disgusting up.

The vault door snuck up on Cadance. She cried out just as it came to view and braced her hooves against it. The powerful alicorn flopped into the dirt. The metal dinged playfully. Cadance scrambled to her hooves. The dirt and gore and hate itched her skin. She shook and combed her body with magic.

Retching, the mare took to the air once more. Her magic held her aloft. She glared at the massive plate of metal.

Yama could never move it on her own. The Amulet gave her the strength, and for a single moment, Cadance had been forced to borrow that power. She knew how to tame the beast, but what had it been doing all these years? Did it devolve into something like King Sombra? Could she even at least intimidate it into being her servant?

When her magic reached out to the vault door, pain lashed across her skull. The mare blinked. She hadn’t even tried to move it. Another attempt. The pain nearly floored her, forced her to crumple against the wall and hold her head and whimper.

“N-not now,” the mare growled. “I can't be drained now!”

Reluctance. Moving this obstacle now could seriously injure her. But then, the Amulet. If she had it, no injury could stop her. Did she really know what lay behind the door?

Her magic seized it again. Some monster screamed into her ears. Metal whined. A vice pressed her skull. The vault door! She must have fell in its path! She jumped away blindly into the stairs. Her magic wavered. Cadance pushed once last time. That screaming monster pounded spikes into her neck. Some foreign strength entered her.

Her vision swam. Images of the yawning door overlapped in different tints, covering up the darkness just behind. She couldn't keep it up. With hardly a thought, Cadance tumbled onto the ground. Her chin tingled in comparison to everything else. She scurried forth, toward the opening she couldn't see. She prayed it was in front of her.

When her icy magic when out of sight, she let it go. A ghost of that scream filled her ears. The ground shook. Nothingness cradled her.

But she wasn't unconscious.

Something relaxed her muscles. The sweat soaking her coat went from disgusting reminder to relaxing coolness. It felt like the strange presence playfully rolled her eyes around in her head, back to where they should have been.

Nothing to see, but she appreciated it. Everything felt right… again....

“Is that you, my child? Oh, please tell me it is so! I don't care who you are! I'll give you even more, just as long as you stay!”

Everything felt… better…

“Please, say something. I must know. Is it you? Or is it that traitorous wretch?”

Was that a voice? It could have been. They spoke through a haze of cicadas. It sounded choppy.

“I should have killed her. I should have forced h-h-h-you under the door! I should have caused this place to cave in upon her! Is it you? Oh, I didn’t want to hurt you, precious. You were too young to see those things.” The voice panted. Was it tired? “You can even bring the mercy out in such a monster as me, child. You are truly, truly precious.”

The earth took all the stress away from her neck. Cadance’s spine cracked with every movement, every stretch, and it felt divine. All those miles of flight and of hiking…

“And for what, child? For me. I knew it was you. I never had any doubt. I forgot that the traitor was a useless thing. She could never enter this place on her own.”

One by one, her feathers rearranged themselves.

“She did one thing right. She betrayed me to you. I’m torn, child. My hunger sees you as a delicious concoction of love and hatred. My mind sees you as a beautiful creature that I must understand and protect. You are what I need. A champion of your own perfection, set upon this ugly, ugly world.”

“It’s beautiful.” Cadance covered her mouth.

“Of course, of course! It is beautiful. The ants crawling upon it are what mar this world’s perfection.”

“But…” Cadance gulped. She didn’t want the ecstasy to end, but her lips moved on their own accord. “Ponies are what make it beautiful. All life does. We all bring something unique, something all our own. We love and we hate. Imperfections go hoof in hoof with perfection.”

“You don’t believe that, do you? You spew it out of some twisted sense of propriety, and how you actually think you believe it! I see now. You’re here to slay that beast. The one causing this racket. Please, do away with it for your mother. You’ll have forgotten that nonsense once you bloody your hooves a little.”

“My mother is—”

“Is unaccounted for. Your guardians? Dead. All you have is me, child. Whatever creature that has been guiding you all this time clearly did not have your well-being in mind. They wanted a puppet. Tell me, do you agree with that assessment?”

She bit her lip. Could she really have ruled without Celestia holding her hoof, every step of the way? No. She couldn’t have pushed herself onto something she deserved so little on her own. Not without…

“Yes! Now you see! Do not forget what they did to you, child. Oh, I can see it clear as day. Your mind has been tampered with. Such a disgusting act! Mind is the only thing us living things have agency over. Or so we love to think. I would maim and brutalize without a second thought, but to violate something so sacred?”

“L-Luna actually did something to me?” Her breaths came quick. “I-it mustn't have worked. I still went on this journey, and she was trying to stop me. Wasn’t she?”

“On the contrary.”

Luna visited her not long ago.

“Even now, your actions have been decided for you. Your mother, however, is something only you know of. I doubt this manipulator expected such a thing to be on your path. If you accept me, Cadenza, you no doubt will surpass them. Behold your body! I have restored it entirely, even with this feeble amount of love I cling to.”

Slowly, Cadance rose to her haunches. Her legs felt loose. Tingly warmth soaked her muscles, as if she had just stretched. Her mind felt painfully clear. Her eyes could finally see in the darkness. A tiny, dim glow at the center of the the cave. Her horn lit up.
The Amulet.

The ground made like a pedestal under it. The rest of the floor sunk a few inches, marked with a wavy, sandy texture. Chunks of earth lay short of the walls, walls covered in pores where something had ripped the chunks from. Directly above the Amulet, she could see a tunnel, an attempt at escape.

“You nearly freed me last time, child. Having been trapped in this hellish state for so long, do you blame me? Blame me for trying to keep the only company I had found in decades?

“Free me, Cadenza. Once and for all. Make me a part of you. My last wish is to see you grow, child.”

She didn’t react. With her face as blank as she could maintain., Cadance stepped closer. “I’m going to crush this amulet under my hoof. It will terrorize innocent ponies no longer. I will turn its energies into righteous deeds. I will crush any imperfections in my Equestria, my Frozen North. With me amongst them, the Royal Family will never know hopelessness, never succumb to evil. By my hoof alone, all enemies who threaten the peace of what is mine will be destroyed. All who dare to will never know mercy for the rest of their meager lives.

“The wicked will fear my hatred.”

If she were blind, she wouldn’t have known that the gem shattered under her hoof. It splintered almost eagerly. Crimson light filled the cave. Every last corner revealed itself to her. Up above, she could almost see the remorhaz where it slithered. The heat fed into her eyes through the meters of earth.

It fueled her rage.

Fiery magic erupted through the earth. It met the barrier of vine a split second after. It punched through. The alicorn rose inside the pillar of flame, and at last it died down when she exited the shell. Her unrestrained magic wrapped around her entire body.

Below her, the wurm tilted its head. That beady eye met hers. The creature gazed as if she was just a rodent caught between the ground and its belly. Smoke billowed from its nostrils. Grass became ash near its hide. Even in the distant trees, blackened leaves tumbled to the earth. The remorhaz crept towards the alicorn.

Cadance circled away. The thing circled to match her.

She dove. Her magic shrieked against the air, ate it and left a vacuum in her wake. Her speed cracked like a continuous rain of lightning. The remorhaz hardly had time to react. Her wing grazed the scales of its neck.

Its tail lashed towards her. The alicorn smirked. A roll put her blazing wing in its way instead. Magic crushed its way through the remorhaz’s hide. The blade broadened on its way. The tail, cut clean, tumbled to the ground.

The alicorn circled back around. The remorhaz sidewinded away from her. Earthquakes trailed with it. Its eye hardly showed pain. She dove for the throat again.

Steam exploded from the gash in its neck. The image became distorted. In panic, Cadance made a rough upward arc.

Something seized her hind leg. Her teeth gnashed. Behind the shimmering heat, the remorhaz’s eye twinkled, just within reach of her. Magic pooled into the limb caught in the corner of its beak. The heat of its maw fought against her magic. The seismic pressure slowly cut the circulation of her blood and magic off.

The alicorn roared. Her wings pumped. Body twisted. Bones snapped. She broke free and away from the heat.

Her magic pooled over the wound. She felt no pain, just the same. Her eyes remained full of hate, hate towards the soulless eye staring her down. Its beak now hung open, longing for another taste.

She obliged. Her explosive flight encircled the wurm. Its hide no doubt withstood it, but she could see its eye staring forward. It didn't even try to keep up.

Lunge! Her gut decided at random. Her heat-bladed wing went straight to its neck, lower than before. The scales raised with a flick. The alicorn broke left at the last moment. Molten rock burst from its skin. Her wing snuck between its scales — before magma could pour from its entire circumference.

The monster at last rumbled in its pain. The neck shook like an unstable shelf of land. She grinned like a madmare.

Her vision deepened in color. She could see the pustulous scarlet blob working its way through the remorhaz’s throat. Her raw magic could even shine through the beast’s hide. Her hateful magic called to her yet. Fifteen seconds. Fifteen until it crossed the wound she made.

Her body went numb. She glanced down to her misty legs. She could see the ground below through them, barren and dead. Hatred hissed from the corners of her eyes. The wurm’s body continued to erupt with uproarious magma in its rage, splashing in every direction. Trees smoldered dozens of yards away. The destroyer’s mere existence brought death upon her land. Upon her family.

It slithered through everything that made her who she was, and just as as soon as it did, her loved ones, her home, turned to ash.

She would erase it. Torturing such a creature was beneath her. She would remove every last trace of its body from this world, and forget it even existed. She would at last leave this accursed place behind her. The fire in her heart dance on their remains, and no longer would she insult their memory with her indescribable rage towards the remorhaz.

The alicorn whispered. “Through revenge, I may know peace.”

The wurm’s maw opened wide. Stones ground, deafening. A burst of black, toxic smoke burst forth from the wurm’s belly. The sky seemed to bend away from the searing storm, as if it were a tear in space.

The alicorn refused to budge. Her wings spread in response. Her incorporeal wings knew no limits. A wall of magic spread from her feathers, inward toward the remorhaz.

The barrage ended at her wall. The cloud of death destined for the horizon; the cloud of death that would have scarred the land forever, stood no chance against her. The wave of poison rebounded off her celestial body with the sheer force. Her magic spread ahead of it, cutting it off just short of the remorhaz.

A massive black dome stood in the barren land, neighbor to the wicked shell of vines.

The alicorn could still see her scarlet magic, even through the impenetrable dust. The wurm thrashed about against her shield, but to no avail, mighty as it was. She closed in.

Its last, desperate attack gave her the cover she needed. Her three hooves planted upon the stony creature. The open wound bled scalding blood, just hot enough for her to tell the difference from the volcanic air.

She raised her foreleg.

“Good riddance.”

***

Her wings pumped as hard as they could. The sun dipped behind her.

Her dark forelegs stretched out before her. The last signal from her nephew was somewhere between her hooves. So close.

Princess Luna’s brows shot up. The two black domes breached the horizon. Questions assailed her.

She circled around the arena of ruin. Smoke plumed all around the clearing, zapped of all life. One dome appeared natural, organic. The other shimmered with wicked magic. Her blood chilled. She quickly descended amongst the trees.

She watched from the dark.

The erratic barrier shifted. The constant spikes and dips in power within gave her pause. Not on and off, binary like chaos. Primal. Focused, yet unrestrained.

Like a ghost. Like… him.

An opening appeared at the top. What she took for his dark form flowed upward, higher and higher until it touched the clouds. The odor stung her nose, burned her lungs. An eruption? Here?

The skies grew dark. Shadows faded. A sickly light filled the dead glade. She looked back to the done, which melted to the ground.

The haze had thinned. A massive corpse fell. An ancient tree chopped at the roots. Luna watched the weathered, leather and lifeless face of a wurm sway over, where it crashed into the earth.

And before the body stood the killer. Its ethereal body shimmered in the broken light, surrounded in a veil of smoky magic. Scarlet, bloody. It wasn't him.

Her face paled.

“What have I done?”

***

In the charred remains of an old cabin, the Night Princess sifted. Unfamiliar, she aimlessly searched for a reason. In the collections and furniture and old letters, she found nothing.

In the hidden chamber, she found nothing as well, save for a single, broken stone, which was no bigger than her hoof. An ordinary rock.

She could only wonder what it revealed to the alicorn lost in her mind.

6 - Order the Pieces

“How do you feel, my niece?”

Cadance’s magic worked the comb through her mane. She smirked at herself through the mirror. If nothing else, she cleaned up nicely.

“I feel limber, auntie. I feel like I can do anything! I’m so glad I opened up to Auntie Luna, and took that trip.”

From the corner of the mirror, Princess Celestia watched her with parted lips. I had been years since Cadance appeared in such a haggard state. She would allow her aunt to gawk. Maybe the look suited her? It must have. Her upbringing came to mind.

“You told her about… about all of that? You finally opened up? Not even Twilight has the real story.” Her eyes shifted away, betraying her unchanged expression. “I suppose Luna has a way with words.”

“She does. More than that, I felt like we understood each other. We both rule to repent, no?”

“Cadance, please. I’ve told you so many times that you have nothing to repent for. I know my words are useless, but my heart aches in a way I cannot put words to.”

“Forget that silly feeling then, auntie. I’ve gotten better.”

Celestia reared back by just a hair, but Cadance could see. Her smile grew.

“T-truly? I suppose the bite was warranted. And I pride myself on reading ponies!” Celestia chuckled, or tried her best to pass one off. “You look like a proud mare now, Cadance.”

“I’m proud because I know I grew from my mistakes. I thought long and hard, auntie. I felt like, for a little while, my old family was right there by my side, telling me how proud they were of me. I’m a grown mare. Of course, any parent would take pride in that.”

Cadance set the brush aside, and stared herself in the eye. She wanted to make sure that it was paying attention.

“Guilt is the pressure one feels when caught between the pain of growing stronger and the pity one has for themselves. To feel entitled to this world is a stupid thing. To feel like you should be happy, that life should be fair, is the luxury we afford to children while we shoulder the world. And for the longest time, I was a child.

“I felt like I deserved to cling to my memories. I don’t. So I let it go.”

In the mirror, her pupil became pinpricks. Her sight rubified.

“And do you know why?”

A single glanced spared for her aunt. The mare held her foreleg to her face, eyes wide. Even that motion caused Cadance’s head to throb.

“Because I thought. And I realized: they’re all dead. There’s nothing else to say about them. When you come to terms with that, you’re only left with the hatred. And for the longest time, I pretended that the hatred wasn’t eating me away from the inside. I finally let it out. Now? Now I can promise you something, Aunt Celestia.”

Her body cooled. She shifted her reptilian eyes to meet Celestia’s.

“I can promise that no one I love will die on my watch ever again.”