~ 780 Years Ago ~
I kept my muzzle down as I plodded my way through the center of town. The dirt of the road shifted slightly from the flick of my hooves. Baltimare was a just a small village, and as such, there weren't all that many ponies ambling about. But those that were shot me odd glances. Some of the ladies, clad in lacy dresses, whispered their usual gossip as I passed. I tried to hide my face under my sun hat, to no avail. We all knew eachother by now, for better or worse, and my grey coat and cherry-red mane were distinctive. If anything, the hat made me even more conspicuous, as there wasn't much light filtering through the clouds today. Still, I tried nonetheless.
I didn't need their pity.
Thankfully, nopony made any move to intercept me as I passed through the rows of wooden cottages spaced between the trees. Eventually, I came upon the old, tiny one which I now resided in, and pulled open the door with a creak. I set my saddlebags down on the floor, retrieving a single jar from within.
Walking slowly into the kitchen, I set the jar down in front of me next to my mixing bowl, finally ready to begin. It had taken me many months to find the recipe I was about to follow, and many more to gather all the rare and expensive ingredients.
Steeling myself, I reached over and grabbed the burlap bag from the cupboard, then carefully poured the white powder contained within into the bowl. Glancing at the open book on the counter to make sure I was doing every step properly, I followed with a cascade of transparent crystals, and then a couple dollops of the red jelly from the jar. As I slowly stirred the mixture, spoon held carefully in my mouth, I sighed internally. To an outside observer, what I was doing probably looked utterly normal. Just kindly Miss Pie, getting to work baking one of her namesake pastries for the neighborhood foals. That was far from the truth, though.
I was not baking a pie in the hearth. Nor a tart, or some cookies. No, this was decidedly less pleasant, and certainly inedible. I was making a pact. Usually, that would only require a document, penned on parchment, perhaps a firm hoofshake instead. But this was different.
Once the last few things had been added, I carried book and bowl into my living room, which I had emptied of furniture the day prior. If everything went well, I wouldn't be coming back to this place. Using the spoon, I started to spread the stuff around on the floor in a careful pattern of angles and swirls, once more citing the tome at my hooves. As I worked, my gaze found and then lingered on the detailed charcoal sketch of a stoic stallion dressed in fineries hanging on the wall.
I stopped, shutting my eyes tight, irrationally anticipating a flow of tears I knew had long since been used up. Dwelling any further on his cruel departure from my life wouldn't help. He had his reasons for leaving me, the mare who could not give him what he wanted.
Soon, though, my work was complete. This would help, I hoped. Once I closed the final circle, the entire pattern lit up with white light. I stepped back carefully, locking my legs at the room's edge, fighting the urge to flee from what I has just done, from the responsibility. The already dim light filtering through the curtains lessened further as the alchemical spell seemingly sucked it right out of the air. I stood there, transfixed as the whole house started shaking around me, black smoke billowing forth.
Then, it appeared.
The demon I had summoned towered over me on his two thick legs, barely fitting in the room. His hairless skin was charcoal black, and wide, bat-like wings jutted out of his back. As the smoke cleared, I could make out the piercing stare being leveled at me with yellow, pupil-less eyes.
"Pony! Why have you summoned me?" he proclaimed, voice as deep as the abyss from which he came.
Yes, he was certainly intimidating. The Elderberry from ten years prior would likely have wet herself in terror. But I was not she, and I had been preparing for this moment. So, I prostrated myself.
"O great one, I have but one request," I said. "I beseech thee: cure my infertility."
I glanced up briefly to gauge his reaction. He was smiling, with sharp teeth barely peeking out from between his lips, and had an eyebrow raised up near one of his curving horns. "Oh?"
Pointing to the image of the blue, heart-patterned quilt on my flank, I elaborated. "My talent, as thou can see, is that of a caretaker. But the void in my breast cannot be sated by the children of others. I have scoured the land for a cure, but to no avail. Not even the great wizards and sages, in all their arcane mastery, could repair my womb. Thus I brought thee here for thine services."
The demon's smirk grew wider. "Ah, you're quite desperate, it seems. Well, the good news for you is that such a cure can certainly be arranged... for a price. Let's see..." He placed a hand to his chin in thought.
I waited, unable to look away from his looming presence, dreading his words. Soon, a look of realization blossomed on his wholly unnerving face. "I know," he began, "how about you?"
I blinked. "W-What?"
He suddenly reached over and ran a claw up my neck and chin, causing me to flinch as the sharp point parted a line through my coat. "It's really quite simple. In exchange for what you've asked, you will return to Tartarus with me as my slave for the rest of your life. Children forthcoming, of course," he added, winking.
I blanched, stepping backwards in shock and anger. He was clearly a fiend, but I wasn't expecting him to be so... lecherous. "I'm sorry, but I must impolitely decline those terms! Thou be'ith unreasonable!"
His grin faded. "That's not okay with you? But... you summoned me and everything!"
That wasn't really how I expected him to react. Perhaps he wasn't filled with pure malevolence after all. However, I'm nothing if not adaptable. I shot him my best scowl of disappointment. "Too bad. You can change thine end of the bargain or return to yon hellscape."
His wings shot open. "That's not how this works!"
I kept scowling.
Eventually, he let out a resigned sigh. "Ok, look, I'm going to be honest with you here. We haven't gotten the chance to make many deals with the living in a while, and that's testing Lord Sedah's patience. See, he makes all the enchanted contract scrolls. It's never stated on them, because he's a bit of a jerk, but upon the event of the recipient's death, he gets their immortal soul. And keeping him content improves everydemon's lives. So, how about this: I drop the enslavement down to only ten years, and then you're free to come back to Equestria."
I had to let that sink in for a minute. Ten years was certainly not as bad as forever. Well, the rest of my natural life at least. And it seemed like he wanted me in good shape to, well, mother his spawn. Even if I ended up more miserable living with him than I already was, I'd at least have what I really wanted to look forward to in the future. And they do say misery loves company.
I nodded.
"Then we are in agreement," he stated. With a snap of his claws, crimson flames burst forth in the air in front of my muzzle. As if burning in reverse, a scroll of parchment materialized, ornately bordered in black filigree. It was accompanied by an unusually sharp iron quill pen. Both hovered there, beckoning. "Just write your name with your blood at the end when you finish reading," he added.
I leaned forwards to do just that. The contract was actually fairly concise in its wording, containing exactly what we had just discussed in simple terms. Well, apart from the demon's name, which was lacking in vowels and impossible to pronounce. Without further thought, I drew the quill across my fetlock and signed. As soon as I did so, the quill and scroll vanished into flame.
His smile returned, and he offered his hand. "Well then, Ms. Elderberry Pie, it's time to go."
I took one last, long look at my home before once more staring into his eyes. "Methinks it is, Mr. ..."
He uttered an 'mmm' of recognition. "Brimstone. Call me Brimstone."
"Mr. Brimstone, then." I took a deep breath. "Well. Let us be off."
I took his hand and everything vanished.
~ 7 Years Later ~
I awoke to the sound of wailing. I had grown particularly accustomed to the noise and rose from bed with practiced ease, pushing the worn blanket aside. Beside me, Brimstone stirred slightly in his sleep.
My hooves echoed on the stone floor of the cave which had become my home. In no time at all, I had arrived at the source of the noise: my 6-month-old son, Bernie. Well, I called him Bernie. In Abyssal, the tongue of those who lived down here in Tartarus, his name translated to something along the lines of 'Immolator of the Sinful'. Brimstone has insisted. Because, well, Bernie was a demon. He was the spitting image of his father, apart from his crimson skin and appropriate proportions. Well, and the crude diaper.
I reached down into his crib with my hooves - a hole in the floor, more like - and carefully picked him up. As I did so, he trained his little eyes on me and growled affectionately, waving his arms. My face was far out of his grabbing range; I'd learned firsthand that infant demons had a tendency to try and sharpen their developing claws and horns on anything within reach. I growled in return, which triggered a bout of mostly gleeful, slightly maniacal laughter.
Once he had calmed down some, I placed Bernie gently onto my back and carried him into the kitchen, my path lit by a few wall-mounted lanterns. Reluctantly prying him off of my braided mane, I seated him at the base of the stone slab we used as a table.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him fidget excitedly in place as I brought over a bowl of fine-grain sand and set it in front of him, which elicited a high-pitched roar. Not one to waste time, Bernie shoved his face right in the bowl and begun noisily slurping down its contents.
Just as I was about to begin fixing my own breakfast, I heard plodding footsteps. Their source, Brimstone, became apparent as he entered, rubbing an eye with his knuckles. My eyes met his, and he sat down across from his son, legs crossed.
"Mornin', Berry," he greeted, not yet fully awake.
"Good morrow to you as well, Brimstone," I replied.
Before he needed to ask, I set about grabbing some fresh slabs of shale for his breakfast. When I set them in front of him, Brimstone grunted an acknowledgement and dug in, popping one of the stones into his mouth with a loud crunch.
"This is a good batch," he said.
I gave him a small nod. "I'm glad you think thusly. Although, twas not mine effort alone this time. In actuality—"
My reply was stifled by the loud clopping of approaching hooves. 'Round the corner came my firstborn son: Obsidian Pie. He glanced at the three of us, only to have his stare drawn to the pile of stones on the table. "Oh! Father, that's my slate! Do you like it?"
Brimstone turned to him and grinned. "Really? Well, I should be complementing you too, then. Nice job, kid." He then reached over and patted Obsidian twice on the head, momentarily compressing his short, spiky black mane.
Obsidian giggled. "Thank you! May I try some?"
Wordlessly, Brimstone moved a single large piece of the slate over to his right.
Eyes sparkling, he scampered over to his seat. But as he leaned over and licked his lips, I visibly narrowed my eyes at him. "Young colt, aren't thou forgetting thy manners?"
Just as he was about to dig in, Obsidian sighed, then leaned back up. "Hello, Mother, Father, Bernie."
"Hello, dear," I replied, rolling my eyes.
With that, Obsidian dug into his breakfast with gusto. I still wasn't really quite used to his demon-esque omnivorous eating habits, and neither was Brimstone. Still, it was good for me. There were barely enough edible plants around down here to feed one pony, let alone two.
Once I had finished throwing together my usual meal of dustweed salad, I joined my family at the table. It took a while, but even Brimstone fits my personal criteria for that distinction now.
As I methodically chewed through the tasteless leaves, Brimstone was busy trying to teach Bernie more words in Abyssal. I had slowly picked up most of the basic words and phrases over the years, Obsidian even more rapidly, but neither of us could form the sounds properly. Bernie himself actually seemed to be paying attention, having finished eating moments ago. He hadn't even spilled that much today.
Soon, Brimstone signaled the completion of his food with an acidic belch. He stood up from the table. "Well, I better head down to work now."
Obsidian took a momentary pause from his chewing to say "Goodbye, father!"
"It's quite early," I stated. "Why art thou rushing? Weren't thee attempting to bond with our newborn more frequently?"
Brimstone clutched at his temples with a thumb and foreclaw. "Kthrrth-zqrx melted another perfectly good set of spears yesterday. He keeps forgetting he's supposed to rip the things out of his sinner before kicking them into the boiling pitch."
"Ah. I do see how thee wouldst require extra time, in that case."
"Yeah." With that, Brimstone made his way over to the cave entrance. As usual, Obsidian wasn't far behind, in order to see him off. Bernie turned around in his seat, grabbing at the air with his fingers, as if he could stop his father from leaving. But before he could start crawling after them, I picked him up, tied him to my back with a strip of cloth, and followed.
There wasn't any real weather in Tartarus, but that didn't mean there weren't good days or bad days. Today was one of the good ones. The air outside our cave was marginally more crisp; perhaps the volcanic vents weren't very active. Light cast by distant lava flows brought its constant, dim illumination throughout the vast chamber, rendering the jagged blue and purple stones visible to the adjusted eye.
Brimstone was nearly to the edge of the massive chasm down which he descended daily, and so was Obsidian. I trotted over as quickly as I dared with my precious cargo in tow.
I arrived just in time to watch my colt wave his father goodbye. Brimstone, facing away, spread open his wings and dived into the blackness.
Almost as soon as Brimstone vanished from view, Obsidian spun around and grinned at me. "Mother, may we begin farming now?"
I smiled down at him. "Of course."
Ever full of energy, he galloped off ahead of me into the fields. Bernie was likewise getting uncomfortable from sitting in one place, and I had to keep picking up a hoof as I walked in order to prevent him from squirming out of his bindings multiple times, and he huffed irritably every time I did so.
"Now now," I chided. "Take care, Bernie. You might hurt yourself." In actuality, he probably wouldn't, even if he fell off of Brimstone's shoulders. But old habits die hard, and you could never dote on an infant too much.
His reply was an adorable pout. My smile widened and I shook my head.
Clopping along at a reasonable rate, it wasn't long before I came upon the edge of the our farmstead. Situated against the wall of the mountain in which we dwelt, it was marked by the rows of rocks, large and small, which were nestled upon the flat stone clifftop. As it so happened, these same rocks were also the crop, and Obsidian was already hard at work pressed against one of the melon-sized ones, grunting and flailing his tiny hind hooves in an attempt to move it.
He didn't notice my arrival until Bernie's growls of greeting gave me away. "Oh!" Obsidian exclaimed as he stepped back from the rock, now identifiable as a hunk of granite.
"Doth that boulder indeed seem somewhat big for thee?" I asked.
He huffed obstinately. "I would flip this one, and so I shall."
"If thou insist. But do so with caution," I requested.
I stood off to the side as I watched him resume his efforts in moving the rock. Just as I was about to start checking the others in the field, Obsidian exhaled sharply and slumped to the ground. He turned to me. "Mother, from whence didst thou learn to farm rocks?"
Hmm. That was a sudden question, but not an unwelcome one. "I never told thee? Twas from mine uncle, who professed as a sculptor. In age I was not much older than thou at that time, and searching was I for my Cutie Mark. Having successfully learned how to purify the necessary stones, he advanced mine studies to the art itself, and it was thither we had realized that my talent lied elsewhere."
"Oh, ok." Obsidian turned back to the granite. "I suppose I shall come back to this one."
I giggled as he trotted away towards a more manageable stone. Right afterwards, I waited for when he was far enough away and overturned the granite myself, then moving to the next large one. Soon, I lost myself to the labor.
As I worked, my thoughts drifted back in time.
It's odd, I had never expected that my life would end up like this when I first arrived down here. I learned quickly that I great many things which I expected were one way turned out to be very different, starting with Brimstone himself.
It turned out that demons were akin to dragons in many respects. While many of their kind were little more than ravenous brutes, hungry for amusement and sustenance, others were reasonably civilized. Brimstone was among the latter group, although he was no gentlepony.
Still, as far as slave-owners went, he had proven to be far more merciful than I had hoped. The labors I performed weren't overly strenuous, and I was not punished too harshly for imperfections. Really, I mostly just ran errands, cooked, or tended to the house while Brimstone lazed about and ate. He was rude more often than not, and rarely expressed any sort of kindness or affection towards me, though I hadn't thought he would.
Of course, he would frequently take me as he pleased in bed. Those nights were rather painful, though not due to fault on his part. Demons were just... large. He even stopped gripping me with his claws after accidentally raking gashes across my sides the first time.
In short, he was about as bad as my ex-husband had been.
Unlike that noble-blooded fop, Brimstone actually had a job. The collective purpose of demonkind was to ensure that the sinners of all sentient races, who dwell in spectral bodies after their deaths, suffered eternally for their crimes. Well, besides other demons, none of them knew what happened when they perished. Most specialized in a specific form of torture, and the sinners would rotate between them randomly. However, Brimstone did not participate directly, and was instead a blacksmith. Knives and chains didn't grow on trees, after all.
This endless ritual took place in the lower levels of Tartarus, and only demon magic allowed passage down and back from the infinite abysses which led there. Therefore, we lived on the surface level, which was accessible to the living and home to all manner of monsters; either native or imprisoned by Celestia's Guard.
The feeling of something poking my hoof snapped me out of my reverie. It was my son. He smiled, gesturing to the area of the field he had tended. To my reasonably trained eye, it appeared that all the stones which required flipping had been, plus many which did not. Also, a few rows had been moved in accordance to the shifting leylines within the rock.
"Impressive. Most Earth Ponies thine age cannot sense the flow of the aether as well as thou." I scratched him playfully behind the ear.
Obsidian beamed at the praise.
"Well," I continued, "since our work hath been completed, it's now time for schooling."
His smile morphed into a frown the second the word 'schooling' had passed my lips. He groaned. "Mother, school is boring."
I narrowed my eyes. "But tis important to learn new things. An educated pony is a respected pony."
"Respected by whom? I never get to see other ponies."
I placed a hoof over his withers. "We might not be down here forever, Obsidian. And a homestead in Equestria is quite different."
Obsidian paused and considered this briefly before voicing a new objection. "Ok, but I still hate math!"
"Perhaps, but as it happens, thou will not be studying mathematics today. Dost thee recall that thine father agreed to celebrate Hearth's Warming this year? Today, ye will learn of the legend behind the holiday."
He blinked. "Oh, really?"
I nodded. "Really. That sounds more enjoyable, does it not?"
"Indeed!" Obsidian exclaimed. The enthusiastic noise startled Bernie, and he shook against me.
I then led Obsidian back home, consoling Bernie with some careful nuzzles along the way. Upon our return, I unstrapped Bernie from my back, setting him gently upon the living room sofa - a slab of rock. Obsidian had already seated himself there, and he fidgeted eagerly in place.
Sitting across from them, I took a deep breath and grinned. I kept my sights on Obsidian, though Bernie was always watched in my periphery.
"Now, I'm going to recount to thee a tale of great import. Art thou ready?"
He nodded, his mouth now a thin line across his snout.
"All right. This may seem quite fantastical, but its truth is not in doubt. A long time ago, over three hundred years in fact, the pony tribes three..."
* * *
"Today's the day! Today's the day!"
Obsidian bounced around the table gleefully as Brimstone and I shuffled into the room, having just woken up.
Bags were clearly visible under the demon's eyes. "Be quiet, boy," Brimstone growled.
His smile drooped ever so slightly. "Sorry, father, but I'm just so excited!"
"Why?"
"It's Hearth's Warming! Thou didn't forget, didst thee?"
I frowned at Brimstone as he scratched his head. "Well, now I remember. We're eating dinner with Paul's family, right?"
I nodded wearily. "That was indeed what we hath planned, yes."
"Just checking. I just didn't recall the pony holiday part."
I supposed that made sense, I thought. For him, this was really just a causal get-together between old friends.
After the four of us ate breakfast, I grabbed the set of saddlebags filled with supplies and such I had prepared the night before. Securing Bernie to my back, we all walked over to the cliff edge to show Brimstone off as usual. Demons didn't celebrate Hearth's Warming, nor did they get days off. Before that though, he placed a hand over my withers.
"You remember the route to Paul's house, right?" he asked.
"Yes, but I am still less than confident that it is safe," I asserted.
He rolled his eyes. "We talked about this. Any of the other creatures will smell Bernie with you and stay away. And it's too far for me to fly you all there, not without spraining my wings."
"But thou never fly with me anymore, father!" interrupted Obsidian, pouting.
"Maybe on the way back, son."
That perked him back up. "Yay!"
"Well, see you there," Brimstone said, waving goodbye as he plunged over the edge.
Obsidian immediately started prancing in place enthusiastically. "Ok, mother, Bernie, let's head out!"
I smiled. So eager, he was. "Of course, right away."
And so, we set off on our day-long journey. The route we traversed first took us down and around the mountain's slope. Our hooves crunched against the occasional patch of gravel as we went. The path was treacherously steep in places, slowing us down as we had to gingerly watch our steps. Luckily, Bernie was sleeping off his breakfast, so I only had to pay attention to one inquisitive child.
Eventually, we rounded a bend, and a vast plateau came into view, dotted with small rock formations and framed by twin rivers of lava. The glow from the heat reflected up the canyons the rivers had carved out, bathing the area in an orange glow. In the distance, more sharp mountain peaks were visible, rising into the air like the teeth of some gargantuan beast.
"Woooooah," said Obsidian, awestruck.
I, too, found myself staring. "Woah, indeed."
Emboldened by the sight, and eager to explore, my son dashed off ahead, rapidly descending.
"Obsidian, wait! You'll hurt thyself!"
He ignored my protest, giggling all the while. It was all I could do just to keep up with the energetic colt. Thankfully, he at least had the forethought to wait for me at the bottom, though I suspect he merely didn't know which way we were headed.
After we took a quick break for water, which was obtained from a hot spring near our cave, I ushered Obsidian onwards. Our destination was near the base of one of the peaks in the distance, a volcano. It was the source of the more narrow of the two magma flows, off to our right.
Obsidian and I continued to ogle the scenery as we trotted towards the river. Occasionally, he would stop to point at some interesting rock pile or hole and ask me questions about it. I did my best to answer them, of course, but some nevertheless befuddled the both of us.
At one point we came across a group of frightening creatures, nesting on the wall of a butte. They looked like the unholy offspring of dragonflies and tarantulas, but were the size of pumpkins and bright yellow in color. Needless to say we tread past them very lightly.
By the time we reached the canyon, Obsidian and I were fairly tired, so we took a break for lunch. Bernie had also woken up a few minutes prior, crankily flailing about until he was fed again and his diaper changed.
The rest of our trip was mundane by comparison. Obsidian spotted the gently sloped area we needed to travel down to reach the riverbank, and once there, we started following it. The sheer cliffs around us weren't much to look at compared to the plateau's wonders, but the bubbling lava produced a comfortable warmth from a safe distance. Bernie seemed to like the heat, and I had to stop more than once to retighten his straps lest he squirm right out of them.
Eventually, after hours of walking, we reached Paul's house. He and his family lived in a cave at a bend in the river, the opening of which was far too uniform to be natural. To add its visibility, a stylized eyeball was carved into the stone above the entrance.
"Is this it, Mother?" Obsidian asked excitedly.
I smiled. "This beith the place. Let us go and acquaint ourselves."
"Finally!" he exclaimed. He attempted to dash right in, but I held him back with a hoof.
"Patience, colt. This is the first time we've visited another's abode, so you do not know this, but it is courteous to knock first before entering a home not your own. Probably more so, when the home is lacking in a door."
He blinked up at me. "Oh. I understand."
"Good boy." With that, I walked up to the cave mouth and rapped my hoof on the wall three times forcefully, sending an echo inwards.
We were only kept waiting a few moments before I heard curious squelching noises coming from inside. Perhaps that was the sound of Paul's approach? Actually, I just realized, Brimstone had never mention whether or not he was a demon.
Well, I was going to find out, as the sounds were growing closer. Soon, a form emerged from the shadows, and I couldn't help but freeze in place. The creature before me was the single most grotesque thing I had ever laid eyes on. Its body was comprised of peach-colored flesh, and it dragged itself along the ground with an ever-shifting, slimy mass of tentacles. Multiple hooves, paws, and fins extended from it in odd directions, and it had dozens of eyes and sharp-toothed mouths of various sizes strewn about haphazardly.
It extended a hoof, and then, in perfect Equish, spoke. "Hello! You must be Brimstone's family. My name is Mr. Cronenberg, but you can call me Paul. It's great to finally meet you!"
I stood there numbly, unable to fully internalize what was going on. Eventually, I managed to raise my hoof to shake his. "Yes… It's quite a pleasure to meet you too. I'm Elderberry Pie."
Bernie growled. Judging by the shaking, he was also waving his claws at Paul.
Obsidian ran up to him, eyes wide. "My name is Obsidian Pie! You look extremely weird."
That comment snapped me fully out of my stupor. "Obsidian! You know better than to insult people in such a manner!"
Paul just laughed, waving a paw. "It's fine, I get that a lot. Please, come in!"
"Thank you for thine hospitality," I said, walking inside.
I really hoped my smile looked genuine. Brimstone wasn't that scary once you got used to him, but I found Paul terribly unsettling to look at for more than a few seconds. Luckily, neither of my children seemed nearly as put off as I was, and both remained quiet and polite as we followed our host.
We rounded a corner, and entered what looked to be a dining room. To my continued surprise, a middle-aged unicorn mare was sitting at the table, her periwinkle blue mane cut short and tidy. Her eyes widened.
"Woah, Mother!" Obsidian exclaimed, pointing. "A horned pony! You said we callith them… unicorns, right?"
The mare in question smiled, glancing at the three of us. "Oh, tis a small world! More ponies, down hereabouts?" she said, getting up to shake my hoof, then Obsidian's.
Paul shook his head. Er, body. "He might have been embarrassed to bring it up, honey."
Obsidian's muzzle bunched up in confusion. "Why would father not mention we art ponies for such a reason?"
I tousled up his mane. "Perhaps he wanted our meeting to be an exhilarating surprise?"
He pondered this for a moment, then smiled. "Oh, what a great idea!"
"Intentioned or not, I am most surprised," the mare stated. "I am called Sky Light, and Paul is my husband."
"Well, I'm Elderberry Pie, and these are my two sons, Obsidian and Bernie," I said, gesturing to them in turn.
"They are quite adorable," Sky Light cooed. She immediately moved to nuzzle Bernie, but I quickly pulled him away just as he snarled and tried slashing at her.
Before I could say anything, Obsidian spoke up. "I guess he is not fond of strangers."
Sky Light rolled her eyes. "Tis obvious now, yes. At any rate, you three may sit down, I must attend to supper." She then trotted oven into the next room.
And so, the four of us sat down at the table, which was made of stone much like ours. I gingerly removed Bernie from my back and placed him on my lap, allocating my hooves and peripheral vision to maintaining his comfort. After that, I removed my laden saddlebags and slid them to the side.
"So," Paul began, "you and Brimstone, huh? That must be quite a story."
I snorted. "Twas something, indeed. I shall spare you the details, but I was in a rough place, as my husband had left me. I wished for children, and called upon him. Now I live here, blessed with two beautiful sons."
Obsidian pouted. "Mother, you told me boys are handsome, not pretty."
"Oh, you art correct, my mistake," I replied, grinning.
Paul chuckled at the display.
"At any rate, I was wondering about you and Miss Light, myself," I asked, making contact with some of his eyes.
"Of course, of course. Well, way back when Discord ruled Equestria, I lived on the surface; fit right in. But some point after I moved down here, I apparently developed a… cult following. A crazy bunch decided I was an eldritch being from beyond the void, and that I needed to be 'appeased'. So they lured in Sky Light and sent her to me as some sort of sacrifice. I couldn't send her back, one thing led to another, and now we've been together for thirty years."
I blinked. "That is indeed some tale. I am relieved it worked out for the both of thee."
Paul smiled a wistful smile with his many mouths. "Better than that, I don't know how I ever managed to live without her all those years."
"I understand perfectly." I punctuated that statement by hugging Bernie to my body and grinning at Obsidian.
For his part, Obsidian could no longer keep quiet. "So, what art thou, Paul, exactly?"
Paul smiled at the innocent question. "Honestly? I have no idea," he replied, approximating a shrug. "I've never met anyone else like me before."
Obsidian tilted his head. "Truly? That must have been hard. How didst thee learn to talk without parents?"
"Well, mostly just by being around ponies, I guess."
My son abruptly changed the topic. "What dost thou eat?"
Paul scratched his head with a claw. "Pretty much anything, really. I just have to make sure each type of food goes in the right mouth."
Obsidian snorted. "Well, that's sure weird."
Sighing internally, I shot him my best motherly glare.
"I mean… that makes sense… sir."
I patted him on the head. "Good boy."
Paul glanced at each of us in turn. "It hasn't been this lively here in a while," he said. "Most of the time, it's just me and my lovely wife amidst the doom and gloom."
"To be fair, we art dwelling in Tartarus, after all," I pointed out. "While hyperbole, mentions of it in Equestria did have some accuracy."
He waved a hoof. "Oh, it's not that bad. Why, just the other day—"
Paul's musing was cut off by a knock from the entrance.
Obsidian shot to his hooves. "Father's here!" With that, he galloped off back to the entrance.
Paul and I moved to greet him as well. Knowing I would be gone but a moment, I set Bernie down on the floor. He would never learn to walk if I didn't let him crawl about.
When we caught up, Brimstone was already patting his son on the withers. "How did thy work fair today, father?"
"Oh, same old, same old. Glad to be here, now," he replied.
Paul oozed up to them. "Hey, Wggrrjgkrpt! Long time no see!"
Brimstone grinned. "Yeah. How's Sky been?"
"Oh, we're doing splendidly out here for ourselves."
"That's good." Brimstone then slid over and draped an arm over Paul. "She still won't let me ravage her, I take it?"
Paul leveled a large scorpion stinger at his face.
He backed away. "Kidding, kidding! Sheesh, you never could take a joke." He then shot me his most cringe-worthy smirk. "Besides, I've got my own Pie now."
I rolled my eyes. "This is a family gathering, dear. Please save such talk for later. Preferably a few eons."
He sighed. "Everybody's a critic."
Obsidian scampered ahead again. "Come on! After that hike, I'm famished!"
"Well, thou do not appear such," I said, smiling.
He huffed and kept moving. "Just come hither."
As Paul, Brimstone and I walked back to the dining room, Brimstone started talking again.
"Well, my boy seems to like you, Paul. Isn't he something?"
"He's sure cute, that's for sure. Must be nice."
Brimstone snorted. "Which part? Just having kids, or having them do something other than flee in terror from your mere presence?"
Paul paused. "Why do I put up with you again?"
"Mayhaps because most everyone else in this place is worse?" I suggested.
"Hey!" Brimstone exclaimed, meeting my eyes. "That's… actually true. Well then."
Paul laughed. "She's a keeper, this one."
We passed the threshold before Brimstone could reply, and his attention was drawn to the colt bouncing in place at his seat. Bernie, meanwhile, was busy gnawing on a rock he found in the corner. Brimstone sat next to Obsidian, and I plopped myself down across from them. Paul took the head of the table.
"So," began Brimstone, "is there anything special we do before dinner on 'Hearth's Warming'?" he asked me.
I shook my head. "Not particularly, apart from decorations."
"It's not like there are any trees here anyway," added Paul. "Sky and I usually just celebrate with a good meal. And speaking of…"
"Greetings, Brimstone. Thine timing is impeccable." Sky said, carrying five stone bowls and some spoons in her magic as she entered. "Supper is ready, all."
"Excellent!" Obsidian exclaimed, ready to eat. However, not a moment later, he noticed how exactly the food was being carried. His eyes practically popped out of their sockets. "WOAH! Those bowls are flying! And they're glowing!"
Sky Light's brow shot up. "Hmm? Ah, I suppose you wouldn't have beheld unicorn magic previously. Tis a feat all unicorns can accomplish, this basic levitation."
"Lee-vi-tay-shun?" He kept staring for a short while, then turned to me. "Why can't we use magic?" he asked.
Because we got the proverbial shaft, I thought. I certainly wasn't going to say that, though. My son shouldn't have to go through the suffering of pining for something he lacked, like I did. Or the suffering that results from succeeding in getting it by any means. He deserves a happy afterlife.
I shook the glum thoughts from my mind, remembering I had been asked a question. "Well, Obsidian, we do possess magic, just a different kind." Then, to Sky, "Thou were saying?"
"Yes, right." Sky Light set the bowls and utensils down in front of each of us, then seated herself between me and Paul. The bowls held a rich-looking, reddish-brown soup. My portion, as well as Sky's, were the only ones which did not also contain various rocks.
"Please partake, everyone," she proclaimed.
Obsidian had already started eating, thankfully not dwelling too much on the previous topic. He was holding the bowl to his face and slurping noisily. Quickly, he slapped it back down on the table to breathe, a wide smile on his face. "I don't believe I've ever eaten anything like this stuff before! It's great!"
Now even more curious, I popped a gently steaming spoonful into my mouth. The flavor was like nothing I'd ever tasted. It was spicy, creamy, smoky, and slightly bitter all at the same time.
Brimstone saw the amazed expression on my face and pointed his spoon at his own soup. "I know, right?"
I turned past Obsidian and Paul to face Sky. "I must say, this is quite exceptional. Thy skills are surely superior."
She waved a hoof dismissively. "You flatter me. Tis but a combination of a good recipe and good ingredients."
"Oh? May I ask what's in it, then?" I asked. "I'd love to be able to make this for my family."
Obsidian nodded vigorously.
Sky Light chortled at that. "I suppose I could share it with thee. Tis really just boiled rock and herb broth blended with some Magmanta Ray egg puree."
Paul swallowed his current spoonful and turned to Brimstone. "So, you're probably gonna have to fish them out of the river for Elderberry, unless earth ponies are actually lava resistant."
Brimstone wiped a rogue drop off of his face with a claw. "If it means I get to eat this every week, then I can definitely find the time," he replied.
Obsidian leaned over to nuzzle him. "Thanks, father!"
Brimstone nodded. "Don't mention it."
The rest of the meal went by in relative normalcy, with idle chatter and contented smiles. At one point, I noticed Bernie had wandered off partway into the kitchen, so I excused myself for a moment to bring him back. I stifled his wails of protest by scratching his back the way he likes. Then, he too was smiling.
As Paul cleared the table, Obsidian began bouncing in place. "So, Mother, what now?"
His eagerness was infectious. "Well, now we exchange gifts. Tis the spirit of the season: harmony. And part of that is generosity," I explained.
He balked. "What? But I didst not know! I have nothing to present!"
Brimstone frowned. "That's news to me too. Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
"Well, what wouldst thee have gotten him? A scythe? At his age?" I asked.
Sky Light laughed at that. "Such was my housewarming present from him."
Brimstone's scowl deepened. He turned away, embarrassed.
Chuckling, I gestured for Obsidian to come closer. As he trotted towards me, I began fishing around in my bags.
"Usually, this would be made of yarn or cloth, but those materials are nigh unobtainable here. So, I used the next best thing." Cradled in my hooves, I pulled out a doll, painstakingly carved from his namesake material. Though its shape was crude, it still gleamed in the soft light of the cave.
Obsidian's eyes widened. "Is… that me?"
"It is. Happy Hearth's Warming, dear. I love you."
"It's… so great." His eyes misted over, and he smooshed his snout into my coat, hugging me tightly. "I love you too, Mother."
I pulled him deeper into the embrace, cradling him with a hoof. Brimstone sort of just stood there, blinking, before I waved him over as well. He slowly knelt down and wrapped his arms around the both of us. Even Bernie had crawled up and grabbed my hind legs.
The warmth I felt from their bodies pressed up against mine was a pale reflection of the emotions roiling within my heart. The joy, the contentment, the love. Moments like these were what I lived for. And I savored ever second of it.
After a far too short length of time had passed, the hug dissolved. Likely wanting to keep it safe from his salivating brother, Obsidian placed the doll in my care once more.
"What next, what next?" Obsidian asked, beaming. "Surely there is more?"
A pang of regret struck me. "Now, the ponies of Equestria usually partake in caroling, but… my singing is atrocious, and I cannot remember the lyrics."
Sky, bless her, raised a hoof. "Actually, I do. If ye wish it, I could lead us off."
I shot her a grateful smile. "That wouldst be wonderful."
And so, all of us gathered 'round and spend the rest of the evening filling the cave with song. Paul was better at harmonizing all by himself then the rest of us put together, but that wasn't what mattered. Swaying to the beat of our own making, we wrapped ourselves in cheer, without a care in the world.
* * *
Once the festivities ended, Paul and Sky ushered us out into the night, wishing us well. Bernie was already asleep, but Obsidian was still full of excitement, fully renewed when Brimstone picked him up and sailed into the air. I trotted along the path back home, gazing upwards with pride as Brimstone held our firstborn to his chest, gliding further ahead in lazy loops. I would be returning quite late, but there was nothing that could be done about that.
Soon, it was the just the two of us. Even in this hellish place, with its imposing facades, molten hazards, and terrible creatures, my mood refused to sour. Merely knowing that my baby was safe and dozing peacefully with me, coupled with the fact that the rest of my family was bonding over a whimsical, literal flight of fancy, completely cemented my happiness.
Nothing much happened for a while, which meant I was quite shocked when something did. I had just about returned to the slope that led up to the plateau, when suddenly the very earth beneath me hooves began to shake! I had heard of earthquakes before, but had never experienced one until then. The suddenness of it nearly caused me to trip and fall, but I managed to properly brace my legs in time to stay standing.
Only when the first huge stones of the cliff face began to crumble did I realize, in an instant of adrenaline-fueled clarity, exactly what was going to happen. It was a rockslide. The huge wall was collapsing. There was no way I could get Bernie and myself to safety in time.
I snatched Bernie, now wailing, from my withers and straddled myself on top of him. I shut my eyes, feeling the sting of tiny claws on my belly, just below the icy feeling in my gut and the pounding in my chest. Images of all the things I had done in life flickered upon my eyelids, but I barely noticed. I had to stand firm, shield my baby. The debris might be loose enough that Bernie could tunnel himself out. He would be fine. He had to be.
I heard an enormous crash of stone on stone, but, strangely, did not feel any pain. Rather, it was more like…
I opened my eyes. I was being held aloft in a claw, air rushing past. I blinked. It was Brimstone's, and his other held Bernie.
I gasped for breath, still processing what just happened. "H-How? How didst thee know we were in danger?"
However, he did not answer me immediately, instead landing a safe distance away and placing us onto the ground first. As soon as he did, a grey blur - Obsidian - jumped off of his back and plowed into me.
"A-Are you alright?" he asked, his hooves gripping me fiercely as his body shook.
I stroked his mane gently. Hopefully he couldn't feel that my hoof was still shaking. "I am in sound condition, thankfully. And so is Bernie, it would seem."
Obsidian failed to stifle a short sob. "I'm so glad."
I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I settled for returning the hug. This combination of shock and relief was overwhelming, to say the least.
Brimstone turned from Bernie to me. I could see in his eyes the same emotions that must have been in mine. "We were almost back at the cave when Obsidian screamed out of nowhere. He said you two were in danger and demanded I fly back as fast as possible. I didn't believe him as first, but he was clearly very afraid."
I glanced down at the shaking form of my son, then back up to him. "Really?"
"Yeah." Brimstone shook his head. "But then I remembered Lord Sedah is actually clairvoyant. Some others are too, but it's very rare, and works differently for everydemon. I guess Obsidian inherited the skill, somehow." He sighed. "Honestly, I'm just glad you're safe."
That was a lot to take in. But I knew I would have time to think on it later. I knelt down, grabbing my son's hoof in my own. He sniffled.
I inhaled deeply. "Thou just saved Bernie and me from a horrible fate. Words cannot express how grateful and proud I am at this moment. Thy bravery is exemplary, Obsidian."
He rubbed his muzzle with his free hoof, and set his mouth in a line. "Of c-course I did! I'm still unsure how, but I saw, and knew. I love you so much, and I'll always be there to help thee, or anyone else!"
Obsidian lunged for me again, embracing my neck. I couldn't help but start to cry, after hearing something like that.
Suddenly, there was a flash of light.
I squinted, and the glow faded. The instant I discerned its source, my face lit up into a wide grin.
"Son," I began, poking his flank. "Look here."
He did so, slowly. It took a moment, but his eyes widened, and he jumped back in surprise. "Is that what I think it be'ith?"
My smile grew even more. I nodded.
"My Cutie Mark!" he exclaimed, proceeding to bounce around like a flea after tea.
His flanks now bore the image of a crystal ball, of the sort used for divinations, mounted on a brass pedestal. It appeared to be made of his namesake material, a sparkling black glass.
We all completely disregarded the rockslide after that, and spent the long walk home together in glee.
~ 3 Years Later ~
I awoke, and the feeling of dread which had prevented me from falling asleep for quite some time returned in force. My body was rested enough, but my thoughts were anything but. Brimstone, as well, had tossed and turned in his sleep. He hadn't mentioned anything the night prior, though I could tell he had realized it too.
In an effort to take my mind off of things, I trotted over to the room where my children still slept, to check on them. Bernie was safely and soundly dreaming, clawing at the air, the blanket I had tucked him under having been pushed off. Soon, he would be able to sleep in a bed like his brother. My muzzle tightened, and I sniffled.
On the other side of the room was my only daughter, Rhubarb 'She who flays flesh from bone and then grinds the bone to powder' Pie: a demon. Instead of horns, she had a pointed, prehensile tail that flitted about more when she was excited. Her skin, a deep purple, made her look like the most adorable little grape, especially when she was sleeping like this. I barely managed to resist the temptation to scoop her up and hug her. I stared at her peaceful form for what felt like hours before I forced my eyes shut and slinked away.
Entering the kitchen, I was surprised to find Brimstone already seated. His wings drooped, and he turned to face me. His face bore a forlorn expression the likes of which I had never seen from him before.
I sat down across from him, and met his eyes. Neither of us could delay it any longer.
"Time's up today," he said.
"I-I know," I said. Taking a few deep breaths to maintain my composure, I continued. "I've been meaning to inquire… canst I—"
Brimstone reached a hand over and placed it firmly on my shoulder, briefly pursing his lips. "I've thought about it, too. And I know what you're going to ask. I don't like it, but I understand."
A smile bloomed upon my face for an instant. "Really? You'll let me take Obsidian?"
Brimstone nodded. "He doesn't belong down here. Neither do you." He glanced away, staring up at the ceiling. "I'll definitely miss him, but… I want him to have a normal life, as a normal pony."
I leapt over the table, and wrapped him up in a fierce hug. "Th-thank you."
Brimstone said nothing as we embraced. I could tell from his shuddering breaths that he was doing the same thing I was: trying to stay strong for our children.
When I heard the sound of hooves from down the hall, I pulled away, straightening my mane.
Obsidian entered, glancing at us in turn. He picked up on the tension in the room easily. "Mother? Father? Something is troubling thee. What's wrong?"
My chest threatened to cave in on itself. "It's… I shall tell thee when thy siblings wake."
Brimstone stared at me, concerned. "Son, sit down. I'll make breakfast."
Obsidian's brow furrowed. It looked like he had something to say on the tip of his tongue, but he held it in, and sat down next to me.
I watched intently as Brimstone put his rudimentary cooking skills to use by throwing food into bowls, trying desperately to focus solely on his actions, and not Obsidian's confused and concerned expression. Minutes passed, and Rhubarb's high-pitched wails came echoing down to my ears. I immediately stood up and cantered out over to her, with Obsidian watching as I left the room.
Bernie was awake and growling now, trying to get out of his crib again to deal with the source of the noise, but still lacked the strength to do so. He grumbled his monosyllabic words of disdain, as toddlers are wont to do. Rhubarb, meanwhile, flailed about in her crib, screaming for my attentions. I knew instinctively that she was hungry, and went to her side. I leaned down, cooing gently and smiling. When she saw me, her cries slowly decreased in volume along with her motions. I praised her and picked her up gingerly, cradling her tiny body to my chest as I walked on three legs back to the kitchen.
I went back for Bernie, and then the five of us were together. Brimstone had already finished setting the table, and picked up Rhubarb in his arms. Obsidian's concerned gaze was more pronounced now, and apart from Bernie's grumblings, all was silent.
"I am nearly afraid to ask thou what is so troubling, for I have not seen thee so distraught in some time," said Obsidian. "But I believe thou wouldst tell me regardless."
I turned to Brimstone. He nodded solemnly. I sighed, my voice cracking. "Obsidian, I shall get to the point immediately. Today is the day I return to Equestria. And thou art coming with me."
His eyes widened, and he nearly fell back out of his seat. "What?"
"I wish I had found the resolve to tell thee earlier, but I just… it was…" I trailed off.
"But how?" he asked, shocked. "And why now?"
Seeing him like this, I choked, unable to reply as I intended, only to watch in quiet agony.
Brimstone stepped in. "Son," he began, "You didn't think your mother actually wanted to live here forever, did you? Without other ponies, in this wasteland?" His eyes fell. "You already knew she's here because of me, and Lord Sedah's contract magic. Before, she couldn't have children. We both wanted to be together for different reasons, but I had to stay here."
Obsidian blanched. He shut his eyes, clenching them shut. The tears began anyway. "But I wish to remain here, with Mother and Father both! This is the only home I've ever known! I'm happy here!"
Brimstone saw Obsidian's tears and blinked, frowning. "Look, I don't want this any more than you do; it's not about what any of us want. It's about what's best for everyone. But if you stay here, you'll never make friends, or even see the sky."
"That's… no!" Obsidian sobbed. "I love Mother, but I can't leave thee, or Bernie, or Rhubarb!"
With the shouting, my babies began to cry. I held Bernie tight with my wavering legs as he shouted at them to stop.
Brimstone glared angrily at him, but I could see he was forcing it. "Too bad. You're going to anyway. You'll thank me later."
Obsidian shook his head rapidly. "I refuse!"
Seeing Obsidian suffering like this, because of what I had done... I couldn't bear it. Everything came rushing out, the tears, the pain, the regrets, my body wracked with emotion, a massive, roiling storm no longer checked. I collapsed to the table, crying out in sorrow.
When I had finally regained some modicum of control over myself, the argument had ceased, and both Obsidian and Brimstone stared at me with wet eyes.
"Son, I am so deeply sorry for all this!" I wailed. "I… the last thing I want is thy suffering, but thy father is right. Our leaving is for the best."
Obsidian sniffled, his tears continuing to flow. He pulled me into a fierce embrace. Brimstone walked over and did the same.
In that moment, the five of us were all suffering in our own way, rendered miserable by our own affections. But in the warmth of that hug, we found comfort and understanding, simply knowing that, as a family, we would always be there for eachother, if only in spirit. Slowly, the tears dried up, the sadness contained.
After pulling away from our kin, we ate breakfast. I seared the images of that morning into my heart, for it was the last time we would all be together. Bernie munched on his gravel gleefully, oblivious to the serious nature of the previous event, full of innocent joy. I fed Rhubarb, soaking in the feeling of every flex of her tiny wings against me as her cheeks bulged with sand. Brimstone looked around the room in a melancholy manner. Obsidian still sniffled occasionally as he ate.
I wouldn't get to see Rhubarb or Bernie grow up, such was fate. As much as I hated that this was the case, I realized that they probably wouldn't even remember me: a blessing, for they would, with hope, never know this pain.
Obsidian and I gathered our things. Brimstone, Obsidian and I went to the nursery, baby demons in tow. They went back into their cribs. We approached Bernie's first.
Obsidian reached a hoof to rub his belly, but Bernie resisted, batting his hoof away. "Ob, no that," he said.
His brow sagged. "G-goodbye, brother. I'll miss you."
Bernie was unfazed. The way he looked at Obsidian suggested mere curiosity.
I did not try to hold him again, for I feared I would not be able to let go if I did. Instead, I said "I'm leaving for Equestria, Bernie. Know always that I love you more than words can express, and that I shall never forget thee."
He blinked, and waved his arms. "Mama."
Quelling another burst of sorrow, I moved to Rhubarb, repeating the same sentiment. But she was already asleep again. Obsidian said nothing, only stared. He then looked up at me, extending a hoof. "I think I am prepared now, Mother."
I took a deep breath, bittersweet pangs jumping in my head. I accepted his hoof in mine, and we both turned to Brimstone.
Brimstone was crying, now. "So. This is goodbye."
"It is," I said.
He looked at us in turn. "I love you. Both of you."
I smiled. It figured that the first time he would finally admit it would also be the last. I replied with what he already knew. "I love you too, Brimstone."
"I love you too, Father! So, so much!" Obsidian exclaimed.
Brimstone twisted away for a moment. "Well, l-let's do it, then." He lowered a shaking claw, and the air thrummed with magic.
Obsidian and I exchanged glances. We weren't close to being ready, but nevertheless resolved to see this through.
We placed our hooves onto Brimstone's palm.
