Precious Moments

by Indulgence

Rating: teen
Tags: Queen Chrysalis, Derpy Hooves, Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 11571

Four views from four parents, each differing in their situation, but at the same time similar through the loving bonds they wear and the cares which they therefore bear with them, there being nothing more important or powerful than family.

Familial bonds are the strongest we carry with us, ever following to bring light to any darkened path we might walk or to be our safety lines in our furthest travels. They create us, mould us, in many ways guide us, and fundamentally they make us whole.

This is a quartet of mixed vaguely cuddly stuff loosely connected through the themes of motherhood and family. (Minor warning: A light in the darkest places contains a small amount of violence but I don’t reckon it warrants the gore tag).

Dedicated to the toughest b*tch on the planet.

Great thanks to Haphazard for pre-reading.

Also thank you to anyone who reads my stuff.

Notes:
• I use the word pegasus with both a singular and plural meaning, rather than pegasi, due to personal preference. Apologies if it is an annoyance
• Sketch used as cover art used base by MaybyAGhost (http://maybyaghost.deviantart.com/art/MLP-Happy-Pony-Base-Vector-347420419)
• I welcome any and all feedback

Published 2016-02-08 04:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-08 04:10:02 UTC

The Sun and her stars

A hushed silence fell amongst the assembled ranks, but moments before at the height of excited noise, rapid voices firing back and forth in anticipation. The crowded rows equally instantly became still, becoming statuesque on their hooves, yet remaining internally buzzing in their places. This hush then became an awed exhale of breath as high above them a pair of stained glass doorways (on which all eyes were focused) slid open and the Sun stepped out from her pointed tower onto a balcony set in her palace’s untarnished marble walls. As a single voice a cheer ran amongst and rose from everypony, before equally organically slipping back into collective quiet, pre-empting what they all waited for.

On her podium Princess Celestia stood resplendent, the pale stripes of her hair constantly flowing away from her in a non-existent breeze, whilst the gilded gemstones of her royal jewellery shone outward with her day’s fading light. In fact from her high peak the entirety of her pure white form seemed to shine, as if she were a beacon at the apex of the imperial capital, itself the guiding centre for her realm. She was a constant, an ever-present gleam in the sky, casting wide her rays that none would be kept from their caring warmth. She was always watching over everypony, always on hoof as their protector. In this way she was the bedrock, the foundation, on which others could confidently build, not forcefully so, but rather as a supportive safety net in which all put their trust. With this reality it was a good thing that at that moment she was placed far from her audience, tonight her imperious façade falling just short of covering what lay within.

Below the princess her audience expectantly waited as an unblinking sea of stares, all bearing up at her. That they had her infinite care could not be doubted, the ceremony they were awaiting standing as testament to all that she had and would sacrifice for them. To a large extent it was what she was but, contrary to popular belief, this did not excise all doubts from her being. Reigning in a sigh before it could fully form she returned her thoughts to her duty and focused herself to that purpose, a golden aura forming about her horn as her face creased in concentration. At her call she felt the pull of her solar charge to which she was linked, tucking it away beyond the horizon and in tandem in its place she pulled up its twin, glowing silver with reflected light: her sister’s prison. Cheering abounded, rising from beneath with the cratered body which settled to fill the sky as a monument (but not one that its keeper could find any pride in), the swell of praise filled shouts bringing her nothing. To them however she managed to smile and bow on cue and then not too soon she could take her leave, retreating back to whence she came.

Celestia let her magic pull closed the glass doors now at her back, but even beyond more prying eyes she could not yet hang up her regal image. There were still others that had to be sent away first, no matter the guardianship meant to be entailed in their presence. ‘Thank you captain, you and your force are dismissed for the evening.’

‘Of course majesty’ an elite officer replied unquestioningly with a salute, turning to the quintet of his equally gold armour clad compatriots and nodding them away to the bedchamber’s doorway. ‘Goodnight your highness.’

Finally with their departure the sovereign was allowed to expel a long held in sigh, casting aside with its inner tension her royal regalia. Her hooves stepped from their heavy golden shoes, all of which added permanently unwanted extra height over subjects, whilst her weighty crown and bejewelled chestplate were also lifted away by her telekinesis, leaving her at least freed from their cold as well as leaden grasp. She took in the familiar sight of her room, purple eyes going first to land on her desk, falling on a mountainous pile of scrolls. ‘Buck no’ she cursed to herself, only just resisting the considerable urge to conjure flames and incinerate the whole heap. Even here, in what was supposedly her most private annex, the undefeatable legions of officialdom could not be deterred from invasion. Rather than despair her gaze moved further to the far more enticing pillowed expanse of her bed but, although weary to say the least, she knew that she was not yet tired enough to be granted sleep. Instead she was restless, un-tempted either by the space before a roaring fire covered in cushions, a tome there also sitting idle, its escapist contents long since finished. That gave her pause for thought, bringing with it if nothing else the chance to stretch her legs a bit before turning in.

Mind set, Celestia on autopilot took a few steps toward bedroom door before being halted as she remembered the dozen or so sentries posted in the corridor beyond. Her want of space was always a guilty one, not ultimately resenting the constant presence of her relatively few guards, many of whom were in the vast minority of those who were close by rank and actually friends (so unlike most who filled the princess’ almost cyclical existence within the palace’s walls). The majority of many days were studded with the incessant demands of nobles and petitioners which, though she would always listen to the needs of her subjects, could be draining to say the least. Right now however she wanted to switch off and, despite their caring for her as far more than a simple charge, a marching cordon in full battledress could only seem as a hindrance to this desire. She therefore quietly switched off the nullifying field which surrounded her quarters and, sparking up her magic once more unhindered, blinked from the room.

In a burst of gold Celestia found herself re-materialised elsewhere in the palace, a pathway of pooling moonlight stretching away both in front and behind, pouring through opposing walls of stained glass panes. Requiring only a moment to brush aside a single lock of ethereal fringe that had fallen in transit (such short range teleportation being mere foals’ play for one such as she) she immediately set off down the hallway. She consciously ignored her surroundings in her passage, despite their great beauty, keeping her eyes averted from the shining full colour depictions of the past. It was as if her history were pursuing her, until finally she escaped them, slipping into the safety of the library.

Celestia’s nostrils flared in a relief filled inhale as she was comfortingly enveloped in the fustiness of old manuscripts, all as much as the space they inhabited constituting a world apart, somehow able to seem as timeless as she was. Her hoofsteps were allowed to slow and she was set to strolling between the stacks, not yet truly searching their contents but rather just simply drifting leisurely, making her way steadily towards the library’s centre. For a while there was silence, scarlet rugs muting her hoof-falls, but as she reached a final bend in her tome lined path she became aware of a deep breathing other than her own somewhere ahead, initially startled by the unknown noise.

Completely un-alicornlike, Celestia crept forward, more intrigued than concerned as to the sound’s source as she peeked round the shelves’ corner. Initially she confusingly saw nothing, gaze panning over a nexus of reading desks and their associated seats as well as circles of sofas, no lights being on to suggest any other pony in the room. In a second sweep however she did spot something out of place: a single book sat open on a table before a high-backed chair. Still sneaking she came up behind the tall piece of furniture, peeking over it and to her surprise finding a tiny purple shape curled up in its cushions. In recognition her face, which had been lightly frowning, became a wide smile. The snoozing unicorn filly, seemingly long settled in place, with hooves tucked up beneath her to stave off the night’s chill, was of course Twilight Sparkle. It had only been earlier that week that she had granted her faithful student free reign of her library (the thought of the filly’s ecstatic reactions as she skipped through the rows making the princess beam all the broader), so she should really have predicted eventually finding the knowledge hungry pupil ensconced there.

Unsure of how long she remained there in happy reminiscence, Celestia was awoken as a shiver passed across the filly’s form, fur bristling against the night’s cold. Without thinking, merely acting on instinct, the princess enwrapped the small purple shape in a golden corona, gently lifting Twilight from the seat and gliding her to the crook of a now raised forelimb which proceeded to hold her supportively against the alicorn’s breast. Having landed on her back the filly now rolled inward onto her side. Her back and neck curled to the contour of her new mattress, whilst her forehooves kneaded against her new pillow (lacking its usual armoured cover) before tucking themselves in also, a contented smile breaking across her features in her sleep, enjoying the hug’s warmth.

What are you doing?

Celestia looked down at the form so quickly nestled in her forehoof. It was perfectly clear what she was doing, in spite of her mind’s foalish question to the contrary. Not wanting to see the young unicorn remain cold she had scooped her up, but with that said the embrace seemed to bear more than that simple conclusion. ‘It’s definitely time you were in bed little one’ she whispered with a loving nuzzle. She retraced her way back through the stacked shelving, easily forgetting the why of her originally coming to the library as she walked straight back out again, although not empty hooved.

If she had wanted to the alicorn could have quite readily have repeated her quite academic spell of teleportation, but at that moment she much preferred, almost selfishly, to stroll with her precious burden still held tight against her. Her pace was slow, considered, as in turn she was considering, in transit toward one of the castle’s multitude of guest rooms. One could not be the ruler of a great nation for multiple millennia without maintaining a frank honesty with oneself, but she had to confess that this was one area in which she found it hard to do so.

You’ve pretty much been running Equestria singlehoofed, so what time has there been for anything else?

‘Not wholly true, there have been chances, maybe, but then again they would have entailed letting somepony in.’ The filly in her possessive hug shifted, arching her back as she stretched out and then nuzzling back into the white fur before her contented form, drawing Celestia’s eyes. Why was the purple unicorn here, given access to a library of priceless tomes to which innumerable scholars in contrast had been denied, and in turn why did she have her own chamber set aside in the palace if required? Twilight was the Sun’s star pupil, already gifted beyond measure and surely destined for greatness, but in the all too frequent and prolonged absences of her “true” parents there seemed to be far more than simply that between her and her mentor. The student was not the teacher’s foal, nor she a mother although she was frequently interpreted as symbolically such by her subjects. They did however share this bond in kind, Celestia herself feeling all the protectiveness and pride to rival any mum, both of which shone as she carried her most precious charge the last few steps in their journey, her magic drawing wide a final doorway as they passed through it.

Inside, the star covered quilting of a bed (most prominent of the lushly furnished room’s features) opened at the monarch’s approach and then rolled back up instantly in place, snuggly enfolding the small unicorn set down within them, head laid lightly against its copious pillows. Despite the care with which she was placed, Twilight still seemed to notice the change in state on impulse, whining faintly as she rolled about trying to get back to her previous level of comfort. To this Celestia found herself quietly shushing the agitated filly, hoof going to soothingly stroke straight the pink and lilac stripes of the little one’s mane as she did so. In return to these soft attentions the unicorn again relaxed, melting back into contentment, and (after taking a few indulgent moments more) allowing her mentor to turn away in departure.

‘Princess?’

Celestia froze, the tiny timid voice managing despite its size to root her in place before spinning her on the spot, a pair of shining violet irises peering out at her from a cocoon of blankets, half-lidded by fatigue.

‘What time is it?’ the voice continued, fighting through a yawn as its owner rubbed her eyes in speaking.

‘Late’ Celestia answered, warmth in tone blunting the directness of her speech, ‘you dozed off in the library.’

‘Oh… sorry.’

Guilt flared in Twilight’s voice alongside an embarrassed hue across her cheeks. In reply the princess merely shook her head with a smile, there being no need for the apology, let alone there being generally nothing that Celestia could be able to hold blame against her pupil for. ‘It is however definitely time you got some real rest though.’

‘I know but… please could you read me a story first, just to get me back to sleep? The sedative effects of the spoken word are well documented’ she added factually, to her teacher’s amusement.

‘Of course’ Celestia again nodded, it being questionable whether she was capable of refusing the puppy-eyed face before her even if she had wanted to. ‘Which one would you like?’

A purple glow bubbled up from amongst the bed’s cushions, illuminating its tired but resistant occupant, moving to clumsily search about the contents of a shelf recessed to one side. Having made its selection this aura struggled to pull forth a large book until a golden magic moved to help, lifting up the tome’s burden and re-righting those others shifted in the search.

‘Okay, settle yourself down.’ Initially Twilight seemed to defy her mentor, instead shuffling about further as she dived amongst her bedding. After this however she resurfaced with the object she sought, the partially moth-eaten and single button eyed shape of Smarty Pants, now clutched in her hooves as she nestled herself back at the top of her covers, both she and her soft toy companion peeking out expectantly. Celestia meanwhile drew to her a pair of beanbags into which she happily sprawled, making herself comfortable as she rose the chosen story up in front of her. ‘Once upon a time…’

‘…the end.’ The Princess of the Sun concluded her performance, closing shut and laying aside her script to the sound of heavy breathing interspersed with the occasional faint snore from her audience. This was no insult, but rather a deep form of compliment, marking a trust and relaxed normality between them. Celestia now finally found herself yawning, at last enamoured with the idea of bed. She did not however have any want to move from where she was, so instead stretched out further across the dense floor cushions at her back, summoning forth a blanket to drape her form. In the morning she could figure out anything which might come of this decision, for now though she was content.

As her tired eyes began to flutter closed, the princess absently took a last look at the sleeping unicorn just above her on the bed, as if instinctively checking on her a final time. The alicorn’s foresight could only show her so much, but from what could be discerned the gifted filly’s future was aglow. Exactly how bright Twilight would shine was unclear, how far she would go and how much she would achieve, but whatever the fates might hold Celestia’s mind was made up. As it stood she had two failures marked marring against her name, the second a clear mirror to the vast potential lying beside her in the room, both by far eclipsing anything else she may have achieved. There would not be a third. She would be there to give this one every opportunity to fly far and she would be there to support her no matter how distant this flight became because… because there was nothing else that she wanted more.

Silver linings beneath stormy skies

The air stood stagnant, perfectly still, devoid of the norm of its myriad currents swirling unseen, as if the whole world had suddenly drawn in a deep breath and chosen to hold it. A single pale grey pegasus, the sole unintentionally camouflaged occupant of the loaded sky, moved in antithesis to her surroundings, tearing breakneck across the stilled ether. For many the difference might have gone beyond notice, the alien calm being drowned out under the rushing roar of desperate motion, but she could feel it on an instinctual level. Just as her wings impulsively tested the air in which she alighted and she equally unthinkingly felt the pull of what drove her onward, she knew what was coming.

Ditzy Doo’s hearing stirred first at the low rumble as it began at her back, echoing as if far off yet quickly drawing closer as its singular base note rolled through her being. In turn her ears fell flat, ducking against her head beneath the flapping expanse of her blonde mane, whilst a shiver coursed within. Her fur bristled, pre-emptively reacting to what would inevitably follow the foreboding noise. From nowhere came the first drop, striking frozen against her spine from which its chill dug deep into her bones, swiftly followed by a hoard of others, falling as one from her backdrop of angry clouds against whose tones she was invisible. Almost instantly her form darkened, growing heavy with the added weight of water, her hair becoming a tangled mass, plastered tight to her skull. Only her wings remained relatively dry, the rain running off them in rivulets as the blade like appendages sliced through the downpour. Her now leaden frame made it more than clear exactly why she had the sky to herself, but despite this she pushed on, if anything flapping harder against the storm.

There were not many things which Ditzy could claim to be good at, or put a different way there were far too many things that she had tried and failed at in her attempts. In all cases (although a severe understatement) it was entirely unfair, like she was playing against loaded dice or with half the cards missing from the deck: written off by unintentional clumsiness as useless and therefore cheated. Her brief mandatory time as a weather pony was a clear example of this. Her skills in flight were as a good as any other pegasus, better in a few cases, that however was never allowed to be enough. To marshal the clouds one had to fly yes, but more than that do so with precision as part of a group, one in a great balletic many, all as interconnected cogs aware of one another and moving in close proximity towards a single goal. This was where it all fell down, multitasking alone being a strain, but atop of this becoming next to impossible through the unsynchronised confusion of her vision. In so many things she had failed thus, hopeful plans coming to nothing or letting others down by her own inadequacy, but never in what mattered most. This was her one little success, which outshone every shadow, making her present minor task as vital as it was.

Far below (a world stained in gloomier tones like the long faded stills of some old film reel) what had been a dense sea of pointed treetops became neat fields of thatched rooves, furrowed by the cobbled tracks of streets slick with water. Next to no life stirred. Few chose to brave the freed tumult, the winds having picked up, released as the ether’s overdue exhale, loosed to blow as focused blasts down every channelled path. Those that had chosen to venture forth scurried quickly under the inadequate cover of hunched shoulders, a scant minority having had either pause or regard to don coats, most as her hurrying towards a higher goal and likewise soaked to the skin.

*Dong*

A new sound rose to Ditzy from the village beneath, the slow chime being struck twice more successively with foreboding regularity, marking the alarm of her internal clock as much as that of the town hall’s towering timekeeper. Although it seemed utterly impossible her pace was quickened in response still further, will overpowering any mere bodily protest. She had already been forced into squinting through the oncoming torrent, lacking in goggles forgotten in the rush of morning, and now in acceleration her peering became all the harder. It was difficult enough at the best of times to try and command her recalcitrant irises to retain focus, let alone now: half veiled and surrounded by chaos, but the clock was ticking and so she scanned all that she could discern in the blurry images. Then she saw it, her goal, both eyes for a moment granted total clarity as they came together in sync in spying a slate roofed building set apart in a ring of sports fields and playgrounds. She made directly for it, becoming a dart as she dived near vertical at the barn like structure’s driveway, struggling through the again doubled images of other crowded ponies outside as she succeeded in touching lightly down at a hover. The grey pegasus panted, her whole body weary under its own weight, considerably added to by the full sponge of her coat and the leaden strands of mane splayed across her shoulders. She now stood a little aside from her audience, as per usual receiving a few turned sideways glances, shaken heads and rolled eyes at her state, but she did not care: she had made it.

The doors of the schoolhouse burst wide open, finally letting pass the excited tide they had held back. First Ditzy’s right eye and then the left, each time the other’s twin orb listing lazily and infuriatingly off in another direction, panned the swell, seeking out a single shape in amongst the colourful chaos.

‘Mommy!’ Through the throng a young unicorn called out, her grey form only just slightly darker than her mother’s normally (although now mostly hidden beneath the pale violet covering of her hooded coat), as she pushed her way forward. With some considerable effort she squeezed her way out from the crowd, proceeding to gallop across the small distance between them, jumping up into a pair of waiting wings which moved to catch her.

Hey Muffin, how was your day?

Ditzy gave the precious form held in her feathers a light squeeze, nuzzling into the short strands of her golden mane as she in turn felt the filly nuzzle her neck in their hug. She gave a warm smile as her daughter drew back again.

‘My day’s been really good, well actually half good ‘cause we had to do a whole bunch of tests to start off the new year which was really boring, but I aced them’ Dinky announced proudly. ‘They’re in my bag so they don’t get wet, but you can see them back home. Speaking of which’ she mock recoiled, being deposited softly on the floor, ‘you’re soaked!’

The pegasus nodded, her continued smile becoming a humoured grin, enjoying her daughter’s giggles as she shook away a cloud of water droplets caught in her fur, showering her surroundings which included the filly.

‘Hey, cut it out!’ the daughter managed, struggling through both laughter and a haze of thrown off droplets. ‘Anyway, how’re you?’

I’m fine darling, thank you, pretty tired to be honest but all the better now.

Ditzy shrugged her heavy shoulders, attempting to convey a thankfulness in her expression, still turned up at its edges, nodding further smiles and adding a pointed hoof gesture.

Let’s head home.

What had been a fierce storm had become a mere drizzle, although its skies remained dully clouded still brighter in that the sun now managed to shine through its thinnest veils. On the ground meanwhile two figures made their way leisurely homeward, the mother trailing in her youngest daughter’s wake, the latter amusing herself in leaping between the scattering of settled puddles dotting their route. Ditzy’s smile remained at full force unabated, its owner still tired and damp as well as now increasingly feeling the cold air’s chill, but nonetheless content. A little way ahead Dinky would every so often glance back, a grin wide on her own face, simply seeming to enjoy the attentive encouragement of her silent audience.

I’m so proud of you Muffin.

Therein was the hardest part of living with herself and her being’s lack of eloquence. In most things Ditzy could never be brought to describe her absent speech as a blessing, it having of course brought her no small amount of torment in her growing up, but equally it largely defied the alternative title of curse which might otherwise seem deserved. She had learned in time to live with it, as just a quirk or daily nuisance to be overcome, and even if the slights and teasing of other’s voices were the main companion to her silence this had at the very least hardened her shell. Here however she clearly felt the weight of what she was denied from saying: not being able to give much deserved praise, vocalise the sheer depths of her pride and care, or express the unconditional love which she held within.

Still a few steps in front Dinky burst into a fit of exceptionally raucous laughter as she landed heavily in a particularly large puddle, the immense resulting splash almost dwarfing her size, her carefree hysteria releasing a couple of stray sparks from her horn.

Ditzy beamed back at the filly overcome by giggling, the younger unicorn again taking a moment to glance over her shoulder, their golden eyes coming to meet. For the pegasus her own excessive expressions had also always been a source for mockery, often interpreted as comedic or caricature, but what else did she have to hoof beyond her visage by which to be understood through? Here in particular, as she looked back at what was most precious to her in the entire world, she meant every warm syllable she aimed to write in her face’s features and hoped against hope that at least some small amount of it was conveyed forth. Her daughters were after all her single shining triumphs, her small silver lining, a success beyond herself that she was proud to maybe claim some tiny part in. And that was more than enough.

The pair’s path reached its end, the rain that had dogged their passage throughout inevitably choosing to slow to a stop at the doorstep, on the cusp of entering the dry cosiness of the waiting cottage and not before. Not that it really mattered, or Ditzy really minded. Her tired form had faced the brunt of the storm and she was both drained and sodden to say the least, that was however simply how things were, so why bother to dwell on the unchangeable hoof that she had been dealt? No; at present what mattered was getting inside, seeing what great accomplishments Dinky was so desperate to show her, whilst waiting on Amethyst’s later arrival, and then of course coming up with something to make for tea. The journey which had led her to here was ultimately unimportant, although it was of course easy to slip into focusing on every wrong turn, dead end and poor choice that much of it had consisted of. At the pegasus’ side stood her youngest daughter, in whom the fatigue of a long day seemed to have finally caught up as she cuddled against her mother’s wing for support, with and through both who and her sister she was content.

A light in the darkest places

‘Clear right.’

‘Clear left.’

A hole, the world was a hole, a dark bottomless pit into which the sun’s rays never shone, their warming tendrils never able to pierce such depths. In fact no light whatsoever could ever penetrate this deep, all its hopes being dashed at the place’s faraway threshold, cowering back in the face of its maw like portal. Were it not for the scant pinpricks (punctured by a few silvery glows) all would have been consumed in inky blackness there in the entrails of the world, and even in their presence all that were discernible were the rough faces of rocky walls. These glistened, their various muddy shades of brown and foreboding grey in stratified stripes given a slimy sheen by dirty running groundwater. Beyond these meagre featureless points of reference there was nothingness, everything dissolving into absolute oily shadow in only a few short steps, like a seamless curtain fell to drape every corridor.

The wholly inadequate illumination was nonetheless made to seem to burn bright against its surroundings, defiantly standing tall in opposition to the insurmountable darkness, glowing from the crystalline spear points of several lowered halberds. The axe blades at the heads of these readied weapons gleamed menacingly with reflected light, making them somehow seem all the sharper, mimicked further all along their shafts in their studding of reinforcing bolts. Each of these vicious polearms ended in a sconce, securing them to the sides of their owners, allowing them free reign to strike, slash or lunge. These were in turn fitted to the cuirass of their armoured suits, an adamantine bulwark to any assault. The immense intricacies of their enmeshing plates (perfectly articulated to mirror every joint in its movement) were however disguised, mostly hidden under the dark navy of sweeping tunics, further broken up by a criss-crossing of swirling cloudlike camouflage. The only feature that therefore stood out on each of them was a single uniting azure eye, placed centrally on their chestplates as their single obvious insignia, formed like the tips of their weapons from shined crystal.

‘Eyes front.’

‘Transitioning.’

‘Still clear, you’re covered.’

They were but four, though they had been more, a tiny number in the vastness of the web they found themselves in, growing ever in its scale and complexity the further they proceeded from the now distant entrance. Together they were much of a muchness, only differentiated from one another in the lengths of their dark blue plumage adorning their helms, angular with decorative fins and extended cheek guards. All that made them unique was lost under the covers of their shells. Equal to their uniforms their movements were as one, in sync and in pairs as they checked each corner, crack and crevice in their methodical path.

‘We’ve got another junction ahead.’ It was a mare’s voice that spoke (although there was nothing immediate in her form to identify her gender) as she gestured in front of her down the tunnel with a granite grey membranous wing, an alien bat like appendage matched in her compatriots. Much closer inspection would have been required to sense any other element of her individuality, like the also dark grey fur of her face or the crimson irises of her bloody eyes, their feline pupils like that of the badge at her breast.

‘Okay, again we’ll separate and scout both’ the most greatly plumed of their number, a gruff stallion, answered definitively.

‘With due respect sir, are you sure that’s the best plan, I mean we’re already well dispersed as it is.’

He sighed with an air of exasperation at the doubter who had made the initial report before responding. ‘Silhouette, for the last time I will not accept any further questioning of my orders from you. If you want command then you should apply for it rather than always sidestepping in avoidance, otherwise you should stop undermining mine. You do however make a good point, and if you’d let me finish I would’ve added that we should only reconnoitre the way ahead, rather than seek contact, and then should regroup. Understood?’

‘Understood’ the other two of their group answered on cue with affirmative nods.

‘Understood’ Silhouette also confirmed a split second after, adding: ‘apologies sir.’

‘Forgiven, just don’t repeat it’ the stallion replied, gesturing for his second to follow him with the wave of a wing down his selected tunnel and quickly the both of them disappeared, their lights drifting away into nothing.

‘You’re seriously lucky it was him and not somepony else you know.’

They had persisted onward for some time now in the endless passageway, trying their best to maintain silence and mostly succeeding, except when their hooves could not help but catch a few loose stones which jutted from the floor. The whispered words were therefore welcomed by Silhouette, who neither shushed nor reprimanded her partner for the breach, but instead (increasingly doubting that they would actually find their quarry) chose to reply. He was no new recruit, but until now they had only known one another in passing. ‘How so?’

‘Oh come off it, you know exactly what I mean’ Silent Storm returned, a night pegasus like her and all their number which had entered the caverns, suited in a coat of deep purple fur beneath his armour. ‘If it were any other officer they’d have straight jumped to blows and then have thrown the book at you later.’

‘True’ the night mare conceded with a flippant shrug, but without adding anything more and therefore unintentionally returning the quiet with added awkwardness.

‘So, why haven’t you put in for advancement then?’ her partner asked, persisting to spark true conversation. ‘I heard you’d done officers’ training right?’

‘Yep.’ She ducked to check a corner, thrusting forward a spear point to light up its depths, monosyllabism more the result of focus than resistance. ‘Did it, completed it, and found it wasn’t for me.’

‘I doubt that.’

‘I did! You can check my file if you want, I finished with decent commendations.’

‘Not that part you tool’ he countered, ‘rather I doubt that it’s not your thing.’

‘Oh… sorry’ Silhouette stumbled over her immediate defensiveness, her helmet disguising her uncharacteristic blush. ‘Well yeah, I do much prefer giving orders than taking them, but the higher you climb the more paper pushing you’ve got to do, so it turns into a slow descent towards being shackled to some desk with your wings clipped. That’s not for me.’

‘Yet you profess to being some kind of “career soldier” through and through’ Storm shook his head. ‘Avoiding advancement and ill at ease with authority; you hardly fit the bill.’

‘It’s not complex: the family’s got a long military history, going back to before the fall, and I like the fast pace. I’m a “potently toxic mix of tradition and adrenaline junky”.’ Silhouette smiled to herself in quoting one of her favourite accolades (although when it had been given it had been no complement). ‘It’s funny though, I’ve been told I don’t fit in on the school run either. Even in the Shades most mums don’t turn up in uniform.’

‘Oh yeah, I heard you had a couple of kids.’

‘And therein lies the other reason I’m happy where I am. Without rank and with this posting it’s just a short flight home, so I get to see them more. There’s nothing better than that, and at the end of the day I’ll gladly take being bossed around and fewer bits for it.’

‘They gonna follow in your hoofsteps then?’

‘Probably not, I don’t know of anypony getting into the Guard without wings, nor do I really want them to. What I am shouldn’t determine their future, particularly ‘cause I’m not the best example to follow anyway. They can do whatever they want, and whatever they eventually set their minds on I’ll give my all to support them in it. How ‘bout you, you got somepony special or family?’

‘Nope, I…’ Storm paused mid-speech, his pointed ears twitching rapidly. ‘Wait, did you hear that?’

Silhouette gestured negatively, following up by raising a hoof to her lips for a return to silence.

In reply her partner gave a single nod and then pointed ahead, picking out a widening in the tunnel not far in front of them but at the edge of their nocturnal vision.

They approached the opening, moving to flank either side of the aperture, each taking a turn in peeking inward. Nothing stirred within and no fresh noise came to their ears, swivelling about to search like their eyes. The nothingness persisted for a moment more (not alien bearing in mind the previous pervasive silence in their passage), their inquisitiveness set on edge, before on automatic first Storm and then his compatriot darted in, spears lowered ahead.

Immediately on both sides the floor fell away, the path becoming a narrow one bordered by a pitch black absence, and the roof likewise took flight, absorbed into the veil of shadows in its place. What they now stood on was an arch or bridge of rough stone, extending over a seemingly bottomless pit, and they gradually stepped out across it, moving carefully with the threatening precipice made very present. The glowing points of their weapons scanned from side to side, passing over and out from the sheer edges, as eventually they reached the platform’s centre, a far off entrance to a fresh tunnel emerging at its end through the gloom.

The purple lead stallion came to a halt, raising a hoof to give Silhouette prior warning at his back. A new sound had appeared: a dripping, slow and regular like a leaky tap, somewhere beyond their vision’s boundaries. They were underground; that there would be flowing water at their considerable depth should not have elicited a second thought, even as it echoed loudly in the unseen caverns’ acoustically perfect recesses. Storm turned to the one that followed him, yellow eyes giving an apologetic look.

They were granted one final step more, passing the archway’s middle point, before they were stopped in their tracks once again, this time by a cacophonous hum which started low and then rumbled up from all sides. ‘Oh buck!’ Silhouette swore violently under her breath as a swarm of green eyes blinked open like poisoned stars in the darkness all around. In a split second the pair of soldiers both snapped a forehoof to their chestplates, thumping their embossed gemstone insignias which instantly lit up, beams bursting forth from their shined faces like spotlights. Caught only momentarily in the enchanted azure rays hovered a hoard of creatures, pony-sized and roughly likewise shaped, but devoid of any other familiar feature by which to continue the comparison. The things were all spikes and chitin, segments of their tinted black shells seeming to glisten as their insectoid wings beat a frantic blur at their sides, emitting a collective angry buzzing. Behind these monstrosities, in the places lit by the furthest reaches of their magical torches, the now revealed walls were not the expected rock of an ancient cave. Instead there was a seething mass of bloated “musculature”, honeycombed in places with weeping spots and translucent green orbs, all pulsing with an unnatural life. The actual source of the dripping noise, the surface’s ichorous excretions, was joined by falling saliva from the swarm’s exposed fangs, a hiss rising from each of its drone like members, looking as snakes about to strike. ‘Run!’

They almost made it, almost, getting tantalisingly close to escape but falling at the threshold, their winged pursuers use of their fluttering appendages granting them far superior speed. Storm had bolted for the furthest exit, unable to turn and retreat back to where they had originally stumbled into the enemy’s nest. Silhouette had likewise tried to remain close behind, but their flight was brief, the pair being cut in two, separated and blocked at both front and back by pairs of snarling drawn maws.

The dark grey night mare required no moment more for appraisal; roaring her reply with all the savagery of her own long fangs as she lashed out, pre-emptively striking her foes. Simultaneously her armour encased hind hooves kicked backward to the audible crack of splintering carapace and jawbone, whilst at the same time she swung her polearm before her in a wide arc, keeping the two creatures at her front at bay. She then made a feint lunge forward with her weapon’s pointed tip, diverting from her supposed target at the last moment, catching the second assailant instead unawares, slamming the halberd’s blade into its neck. Plates of chitin buckled inward under the heavy impact, spraying acid toned green ichor out around the axe head as its victim let out a gurgling mewl and fell back. She again feinted (pretending to aim high when in fact her target was low), thrusting her weapon amongst the remaining adversary’s supporting limbs and then raking it across its lower forelegs, slicing effortlessly through outer shell and into softer musculature beneath. Dragged to its knees the monster’s angry hissing became shrill and pained, but only briefly as she silenced it with a crushing kick across the snout, painting her hoof in more alien coloured blood and sending the thing into freefall off the platform’s edge.

No respite was however gifted her as Silhouette dispatched the last of her opposing quartet, the four creatures being immediately replaced by their kin, now well and truly baying for blood. Thus the brutal melee continued, blow begetting blow and leading to still innumerable others, soon descending to even greater depths of desperate brutality. All facets and features of the world therefore dissolved, subsumed under a tide of focused hate, each new target constituting an all-consuming crashing wave beyond which nothing else could be sensed. Under this red mist she was only marginally, if at all, aware of other sensations, placed at an apex of pure unadulterated adrenaline. For a while her steely armour kept out the worst of what she got, its surface becoming dented and its overlaying fabric of tunic being torn to rags, but nonetheless rebuffing her enemies’ efforts. As if acting as one however the things switched tactics, striking instead at any exposed area, seeking by sheer weight of numbers to overwhelm her defences, whilst their alighted allies dived like battering rams trying to knock her from her hooves. A sea of exoskeletal spikes and carnivorous teeth pressed in on all sides, making the length of her halberd (now drenched in the viscous results of its work) next to useless, leaving her only her own biting fangs and hooves to attempt to hold it back. Realising her inevitable fate in this position she thrashed wildly, throwing open her wings wide and her blind hoof blows in all directions. In a single flap she was airborne, whirling in place to cast down any initial pursuers as she broke into a defensive hover.

Panting breathless, Silhouette found herself granted the briefest of reprieves and she milked it for what it was worth, gulping down all the air that she could swallow. She intermittently spat away globs of iron flavoured crimson, along with noxious greenish chunks which had clumped around her canines. Almost instantaneously the acrid pool returned with a vengeance in her mouth, hinting at some creeping internal injury, possibly from impact trauma but made invisible by her dulled and distracted pain receptors. Her agonies were elsewhere, centred solely in her wings, particularly the left one, where in this pause she became aware of every puncture and tear wrought in their sensitive membranes, making continued flight a defiant struggle. Her body she noticed however was not the only thing left worse for wear, her eyes being drawn to a cracking sound at her chest where a decidedly dented gemstone iris was marred by a web of fissures, its light flickering uncertainly. ‘Bucking brilliant!’ she again cursed, faultlessly summing up the situation.

A guttural yell forced her vision back to the bridge where to one side her half of the swarm was regrouping, but more importantly on the other Storm was being overwhelmed, only just barely visible in amongst a fluid mass of monsters. Under her gaze his weapon was wrenched away from him, tumbling extinguished into the abyss, the state of the other soldier growing increasingly hopeless. It was clear that no further time could be spared, although her frame cried out for far more of a break, she had to act.

All was a blur, acceleration dissolving all solid forms and shapes, every sound lost to the singular roar of rushing air as Silhouette broke from a hovering start into a particularly steep crash dive. She was deaf (unhearing of the splintering at her chest) and she was blind to all but where she aimed, her body becoming a shot straight from a bow. She was however far from dumb, her battle cry sounding long and loud even if it was beyond her hearing. As forebodingly suggested by the flickering of her main light and the unheard protests of its face, the crevasses cut in its surface finally ruptured and with that so too disappeared all the security of its luminescence, Storm’s shattering and going out at the same time. This left only the relatively faint glow of her weapon and the greens of predatory eyes to remain. Her last stolen image as her guide she struck as lightning, halberd plunging clean through up to the hilt in flesh and chitin, as its spear point ploughed into the first of its foes, plunging all into darkness.

A cooled yet refreshing wind played across her form, running ripples in her fur as her aching wings brought her to touch down in the main street of what was now her hometown, in contrast to a great many places not much more than an extended hamlet in a forest clearing. The broad gape of a wide yawn forced itself across her face, the night being long since staled and the coming of dawn fast approaching, its first few rays beginning to blossom over the horizon. Every inch of Silhouette felt wearied by its ordeal. From the points of her ears to the tips of her hooves she had nothing more to give, but the faint thoughts of reaching her final goal (ultimately for which she ventured out each dusk) kept her moving, treading the last few steps homeward. Freed from the weight of her armour and uniform she was nonetheless tightly bound, wound up in an expansive length of bandages wrapped about her barrel and left wing, tied by a surgeon who had equally suggested that she refrain from flying for at least a month. This was an order consciously ignored: it was the swiftest way to return to those she cared for.

Whitewashed timber walls and simply thatched rooves flanked the night pegasus’ path in her swift passage through the dying dark, all life in the village winding down as its final waking denizens turned to thoughts of sleep. Silhouette was therefore in the last of the of the evening’s commuters in her return, and like those few of her kin in a similar state her thoughts were on those that awaited her. For the granite grey night mare however this mind set had a focus, caught up in the photo slipped from her helm and secreted in her saddlebags as the mangled headgear went to the armourer’s shop for repairs. It was for the three depicted on the image that she fought each night, the fact that she revelled in the unrelenting momentum of her work in every part an afterthought, pushing back all that prowled in the edges of shadows and which might therefore threaten. It was a cliché to express, but without a doubt it was only for they that she lived, Equestria, duty and oath be damned aside in turn.

Silhouette’s knackered hoofsteps finally brought her before the tall blank surface of a wood panelled doorway.

‘Mummy!’

Pre-empting either any knock or quiet quest for keys in the depths of her detritus laden bags, the door flew open and a small jet black shape (cut with the blur of grey striping) shot outward to meet her, catapulting itself into her hooves. Foregoing initial words all Silhouette could do was return the warm embrace she found herself in, clutching a forehoof to the one wrapped around her neck and nuzzling into the long (also dichotomously striped) strands of the smaller other’s mane. ‘Hello sweetheart, what are you still doing up?’

‘Daddy said that it was alright to wait up for you’ the filly’s voice affirmed, pulling away slightly to pass her electric pink eyes over her mother in a concern filled look. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

‘I’m alright, it all just looks worse than it is.’

‘Okay.’ Although still obviously unsure her daughter nodded at this, going in for another reassuring cuddle before she jumped away again. ‘I’ve got loads to show you!’ she shouted excitedly, disappearing back into the house, her mother following close behind, ‘so wait right there!’

‘Hey Mum.’

A second half-zebra, slightly older than and tonally the mirrored opposite to his preceding sister (his fur greyed like her stripes whilst being criss-crossed by onyx markings), greeted Silhouette across the threshold. Beyond these first two words however the young stallion faltered, bringing an unsure hoof to brush aside the elongated spikes of hair (also in grey and black) which burst from his head and had fallen across his red nocturnal eyes. There was an angry inferno burning at the back of these bloody orbs, a protective and vengeful fire which she both recognised and understood. ‘I’m really fine’ she reassured, having read his pause with little effort, ‘you should see the other mare. Now, come here.’

She succeeded in coaxing a smile across his face, revealing the fangs of hers which he shared in his maw and he stepped into the offered hug, standing up on the tips of his hind hooves. ‘It’s good to have you home.’

‘It’s good to be home’ she mirrored, hearing the dual noises of the door closing at her back and the clatter of approaching hoofsteps.

‘Mummy Mummy Mummy, look at this!’ The filly returned at a frantic pace, roughly scuffing creases into the carpet as she screeched to a halt, a small ball of turquoise fluff clutched tightly to her. ‘It’s a parasprite, well not a real parasprite otherwise then we’d need to find a trombone, but I made it in class yesterday ‘cause we got to choose between clay and sewing during creative time and I didn’t want to get my hooves all gunky so I chose sewing, and I made a parasprite as their so cute but we can’t keep them as real pets ‘cause they’re pests and all and…’

Silhouette just listened intently, occasionally giving an encouraging nod, as her daughter attempted to set a new world record for longest spoken sentence, the older sibling at the same time turning to grin in watching his sister’s effort. At her side meanwhile she was at first caught off guard as a gentle hoof came to caress her bandaged wing, moving lightly to unfurl the sensitive appendage to its full span. Had it been anypony else they would have in an instant discovered themselves choking on the shattered remnants of their teeth in the dirt. As it stood however she knew the tender touch and rather than spurring violent reprisal she found it soothing, for the first time that evening finding herself unwind, becoming something other than her usual tightly coiled spring.

‘…so anyway, I’ve got to take it back with me next week ‘cause Miss wants me to show it in assembly. I’ll be right back!’ Before any interjection could be attempted the shadowy tornado again whirled out of the room.

In her daughter’s new absence Silhouette was able to turn to her left, meeting a pair of equally brilliant pink irises (although these one’s pupils were a more usual rounded affair) as they looked up from their examination of her injuries.

‘Another rough day at the office?’ her would-be doctor (a predominately pure white zebra save for the ribbons of jet black spiralling about his form) asked, concern combined with a knowing look in his aspect.

‘Something like that’ she confirmed. ‘But I’m fine and you can save your cares, I’ve already been dealt with.’

‘VC, go see if you can grab your sister and tell her it’s definitely bedtime.’ To this the son nodded in departure. ‘Now’ the snow coloured stallion continued, ‘what’s the damage?’

‘Don’t ignore me! I’m really fi…’ Silhouette failed to finish her argument as a set of lips moved to cut her off with a kiss. In easily enforced silence she let a hoof absently run through her love’s hair, following the fin of his mohawked mane (two-toned like his form), tracing down a single separate braided strand which fell to one side of his muzzle.

‘I’ve patched you up many more times than any medic’ her partner persisted as he broke away, ‘so I repeat: what’s the damage?’

She huffed, giving in with little resistance. ‘A couple of tears and holes in the wing, some internal bruising and a similar internal puncture which has been sealed.’

‘Quite the list. Can you still fly?’

‘Yes…’

‘But you were told not to I presume?’ he cut in with a raised eyebrow.

‘Maybe’ Silhouette as good as admitted with a small grin.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Never one to follow orders. I’ll make a couple of poultices and brew something up to speed the healing, then you’ll rest even if I have to tie you down to make it happen. Clear?’

‘Yes sir’ she mock saluted, although unquestioningly she would no doubt obey, moving to draw forth a second kiss from her commander.

‘Mummy?’

‘Yes darling?’ she asked in reply to the youngest of the two returning siblings, the filly wearing a slightly disappointed face, obviously curtailed halfway through finding something else to show.

‘Please could you do bedtime?’

‘Of course. Feel free to choose a story, just not too long, it’s already well past dawn.’

‘Chapter eight…’ Silhouette was content as she indulged in narrating a third chapter, having originally set a limit of only one. Sat out on the pillowed fields of her bed there was no other place on Equis that she would rather be, spirit for once calmed exactly where she was. Before her the book from which she read lay open, whilst between the protective walls of her forehooves her daughter had settled herself, yawning but still resisting the pull of sleep. On her right meanwhile her second foal had also surprisingly chosen to join them in listening, ensconcing himself at her side, cuddled up under her good wing. Finally to her left, her partner tended to her battered being. With tenderness to surpass even the most careful of nurses he unwound her bandaged limb as he sought to heal the marring damage cut through its delicate surface, along with any other wounds from the world outside.

Reluctantly each evening she departed from them, although oath bound only really acting or caring for them in her duty, there being nothing worse in existence beyond this separation for her to face. In their presence she was a different pony, truly free and happy, and this marked what they were to her. They were her dearest loves, her most precious charges and greatest of defenders, as securing anchors in both her and her world’s darkest places, they were her purpose.

One day it's going to be perfect

*Drip drip drip*

The air was cool, effortlessly carrying on it every sound as it echoed through the vaulted halls, their acoustics in turn amplifying every noise.

*Drip drip drip*

Her ears were the first to react, waking as they twitched at each unseen falling droplet, pointed tips swivelling as they sought their source.

*Drip drip drip*

Her mind meanwhile lagged somewhat behind, determinedly resisting the pull of consciousness tugging at her senses, awakening in series. Cold entered her nostrils, as her heavy breathing slowly lightened, and blew across her exposed face whilst in antithesis the rest of her felt relatively warm, wrapped snug against the chill in her bed’s covers. After the nothingness of sleep all these feelings and their associated realisations she knew to her dismay meant that she was indeed waking, in spite of her efforts to the contrary. Then it started afresh (as she knew it would), re-emerging to strike at her from within, its biting spreading to each part of her being as it returned to life.

*Gurgle*

Her stomach stressed its starved complaint, along with that of the rest of her burning insides, with a loud low rumble and her eyes finally flicked open, giving up on her desire to retreat back into unconsciousness. To anypony it should have been darkness that greeted her, pitch black almost inky, the kind that consumed all it touched, but to her the place was illuminated as clear as day, her slashed pupils like feline slits devouring anything they could to form their images. The world was a cave of rough stone, hewn out by the sheer weight of time working ever wider cracks through it, making the root of the incessant dripping both clear and unclear as every surface glistened with a sheen of water permeating the dank strata. What little this cave was, its only feature being the bed or rather the construct which served as such made from a burst open translucent green shell (like some great ruptured cocoon), it was hers, her “room” for want of a better word. Although this privacy was supposedly a great privilege in the scarce space of the hive, it hardly felt as such. She could not help but feel isolated here, compounding her state with a degree of loneliness, and at the same time more than a little bit of jealousy for her innumerable brothers and sisters elsewhere.

‘You are destined for far greater things.’

*Gurgle*

She sat up straight, curling up around her gurgling guts, letting the sheets of equally green hoof-spun silk fall from her. Almost instantly the cold pounced, sinking its claws through her frame, unheeding of her shell of shined black carapace as it worked its way into her joints and struck up an aching from within. It was more than tempting to shy away in response, to rebury herself in her covers, but she knew that doing so would be no real cure; her stomach still left angrily thirsting after some form of sustenance. She therefore rose still further to her honeycombed hooves, insectoid wings flicking out at either side, quietly humming with the rapidity of their beating as they carried her to the doorway (actually a cave mouth draped with a curtain of silken cloth which acted as one).

*Gurgle!*

‘Shut up’ she muttered, weary of the noise, knowing full well that she was not the only one by a stretch to be feeling the pang of hunger. A deep green aura formed around her crooked horn, going to enwrap the door’s fabric and drew it aside. As far as her magic was concerned she still had an awfully long way to go, but she was still quite proud of her swift mastery of telekinesis and could not help but indulge in using it. Through the now open portal she passed between the hulking shapes of two guards, all thick chitin and long fangs far more pronounced as yet than her own, both twice her slight height, yet stooping lower in nodding bows at her passage. On cue they moved to follow at a single step behind, but she waved them off with a quick hoof gesture, preferring to remain in her own company. Anywhere beyond the slime-coated walls of the hive the sight of the two bulky sentries instantly deferring to her command would have been surreal and in truth she herself was not yet wholly at ease with this command over her siblings, entailed merely in the growth of her crown of antennae.

‘It will be your duty to be strong for all of them, and to guide them forward.’

She left them behind her, following the path of the meandering corridor a short distance onward. Aside from the continuing drip of water falling the tunnels were still, even in day time contrasting against the many others buzzing in the labyrinthine web of the hive, set apart from the rest. Steadily in her passing the surrounding walls, floor and roof changed, gradually becoming covered in something akin to a chitinous exoskeleton. Her sharp hoofsteps on rock changed to muted against the hard yet smooth organic substance, whilst the liquid of the continued droplets became more viscous. At the same time a breeze seemed to stir up, not enough to banish the chills from her frame but at least warming, like she were in an enormous creature’s airway, her dark teal hair being ruffled by its breathing. It could seem a strange thing to find comfort in, but its source was not quite as alien as the décor: it simply felt like home. Eventually the creeping growth would spread to her own youthful chamber in the ancient cavern, hopefully bridging its seclusion in doing so.

She rounded the final corner to her goal: another portal flanked by a duo of guards, this one covered by a tripartite extension of the walls’ fleshy covering, looking like the valve of some kind of monstrous internal organ. Again the broad formed pair bowed their heads on automatic as she got closer; this time however she was stopped from proceeding as one spoke. ‘If you’re looking for the queen your majesty, she has gone up to the peak chamber’ he stated factually.

‘You must learn to absolutely control your feelings.’

‘Thank you.’ Her reply as she turned away lacked any real gratitude in its tone, almost as flat as the voice it was a response to. This was not for the sake of coldness though, but rather because by necessity to share any emotion was a personal act, even before considering how famished she currently was. She set out determinedly once more, forcing down a return of the ache within her guts, making for a particular fork in the maze of serpentine passageways, trailing its length as it changed to snaking rapidly upward in a spiral. Her ascent took her far, briefly punctuated by the presence of further side passages, but quickly these ceased as she climbed increasingly higher in what would have been a tower were it not underground. This laboured journey reached its end at another triple segmented door which instinctively opened at her approach, the gust of a frozen breeze coming unexpectedly to whip through her mane as she entered.

‘Chrissie?’ a songlike voice questioned, its words constructed from a myriad of varying accents, but all greeting her with a caring softness. ‘What are you still doing up? It’s long past your podtime.’

‘Sorry mother.’

The one she addressed sat facing an open “window” of peeled back chitin, her exceedingly tall (easily surpassing the stature of the earlier guards and all others within the hive) yet slender frame concealed beneath multiple woven blankets, set against the cold blowing in to accompany the flurries of snow whirling outside. The mare-like creature’s head meanwhile was swivelled to face her, adorned like her own with both prominent horn and crown, concern written deep in its pale jade irises. Beneath the wavy strands of mane however, tinged by the first few strips of grey in amongst its acid green, the caring visage’s features were hard to detect, concealed by a mesh of impregnable jet black plates (marred in places by the scars left by those who had attempted to breach them). They were there though, in the wrinkles at the edge of her tired eyes.

‘I couldn’t get back to sleep’ she began, the matriarch’s face pleading with her to continue as she paused. ‘I’m… hungry.’

‘I know darling’ her mother nodded, a guilty sadness evident even through her disguise, the daughter’s antennae emitting a faint tingle as they sensed the emotion. An acidic glow surrounded the layers of blankets opening them at one side. ‘Come here, before you get cold.’

Gratefully she dived beneath the covers, instantly enveloped by their embrace. She burrowed through them until her head popped out alongside her mother’s, who beneath the quilting brought a wing to wrap her in a tight hug, whilst at the same time nuzzling against her daughter’s newly emerged cheek. Again her extra senses tingled, but this time with a far brighter energy, instantly spreading through her to satiate her desperate stomach. Happily she nuzzled back, chirruping quietly as she forgot herself.

‘Thank you darling, but you should eat, I’m fine.’

With considerable effort she brought her mutual love back into check, but still compromised with herself in snuggling in closer to its object. She did however guiltily know that the matriarch was lying; being able to read it even without her antennae which could detect the other’s drained state. Quickly in contrast she was left content, warmed within as well as without and comfortably full, and she found herself yawning to that effect, enjoying still being reassuringly held. As her eyelids had become heavy her gaze drifted and found a map unfolded in front of them, depicting a complex of buildings and streets all surrounding the towers and walls of a great citadel. To one side sat a sharpened piece of dark gemstone, having coated the picture in scribbled notes, directing arrows and orders highlighting points of infiltration and weakness. ‘What’s this?’

‘A future’ the mother answered in a whisper as her daughter’s head fell to rest on her slight forehooves and she lightly stroked her mane, ‘for all, but most importantly for you. You should have so much more than this.’ Her concluding gesture however, to both the cave and to a glowing beacon only visible for those with their sixth sense in the icy storm beyond, went only faintly noticed as the smaller form beside her floated into sleep.

‘Mother?’

Queen Chrysalis stood tall in the windswept cavern, its entrance left open to the craggy snow-capped range of the Foal Mountains, in the apex of one of whose peaks it sat. Before her the darkened reflection of her own face returned her look from the shined surface of a sharply carved obsidian obelisk, situated just to one side within the cave’s threshold. Where tradition demanded an absence the monument was at least something for her predecessor, appropriate in its mirrored gleam, hidden strength and pointed form, but nonetheless in her mind it was not nearly enough for the one whose life it was supposed to honour.

‘Mother?’

Having been engrossed in her own thoughts the queen finally noticed the voice at her back, instantly turning her round on the spot, following her ears as they in tandem swivelled to find it. ‘Yes sweetheart?’

‘Watch this.’

Before Chrysalis briefly was almost the mirror image of her younger self, instantly bursting into a ball of green fire to be replaced by a different yet still recognisable filly. The other’s black carapace became fur, whilst her slitted pupils rounded, but she still maintained a long wispy mane with matching tail and jade irises. In another explosion of flames her daughter reappeared, panting slightly, obviously sapped by the effort. Chrysalis was well aware that her own mother had been much stronger than she was, far more capable at holding herself in line. She meanwhile could not help her pride, it radiating from her in a broad fanged smile which cut across her face. ‘That’s fantastic darling!’

The praise spread a pink hue between the younger one’s armoured plates. ‘Thanks.’ An equal grin also blossomed in her features, before being replaced with an unsure frown. ‘How long are you going to be away?’

Chrysalis let out a low sigh, beckoning her daughter to follow as she moved to the gaping hole overlooking the mountainous expanse beyond their home. ‘Not long.’ A glow pulsed through her horn, moving a gentle aura to wrap around her child who, giggling at the tickle of energy, she proceeded to lift before her and then switched to holding tightly with a forelimb. Her daughter returned the hug, wrapping both forehooves possessively around her mother’s neck which she nuzzled lovingly into. Chrysalis’ eyes meanwhile picked their way across the landscape. They sliced through swirling mists and across rocky trails to land on a single peak in the far distance from which her target sprouted: an ethereal palace of pure marble and jewelled turrets, the imperial capital. ‘For you I will conquer it all’ she promised solemnly, laying a final kiss on the forehead of one for whom she would stop at nothing to gift a brighter world.