Metamorphosis

Chapters

Frozen Land, Frozen Hearts
Brittle Bonds are Broken
Fight to Flight
Broken Wings
Dealing With A Devil

Frozen Land, Frozen Hearts

Across the Eastern Sea, upon a continent far removed from the ancient lands of Persisus where dwelt the races of griffons and minotaurs since time untold, lay the once-verdant lands of the pony tribes, transformed at the time of this tale by fell fortunes.

The stark country, unrecognizable; where vast forests and verdant fields flourished in better times, now the land grew only rising snowy mounds and jagged ice spires. Cold as ice too were the attitudes of the Unicorn, Pegasus, and Earth ponies who fled their ancestral Dream Valley as the wintry windigoes, demons of rage and hate, froze the land as strife the three tribes had fostered against each other empowered them. As the three leaders of the ponies considered sojourning into the unknown in search of unsullied and hopefully unfrozen ground, abandoning their ancient homeland without further consideration, already they'd discarded in their hearts those they had once called ‘friends’ in the long-lost days when they knew and lived the meaning of the word.

For not alone did the ponies' Dream Valley suffer the frigid touch of the windigoes. Only a short way off as the phoenix flies, the blissfully endless springtime home of the whimsical race of Flutters withered away under the demons’ icy onslaught. Somewhat smaller than the pony kindred, these lithe equine beings bore graceful fairy wings of opalescent hues upon their slender, elegant forms which were clothed in silken fur variegated in colors beyond the most brilliantly-hued gems in a dragons hoard and brighter than sun-kissed dewdrops. Upon the nectar of the lushly flourishing flowers covering their valley from peak to river plain the dainty creatures fed, harming nothing that did them no harm.

And though fragile as a butterfly they might seem, a mythic strength they yet possessed to protect themselves and their allies against all manner of terrible foes. For they could fly swifter than arrows loosed from a bow and dash across the sky like a lightning bolt. And in great numbers unleash the roar of the Utter Flutter, united in speed and power they could split the very air in twain, unleashing a devastating spectrum of shock waves which not even the fastest of the pegasi could hope to create nor their adversaries withstand.

Long before strife took hold, the Flutters and their neighbors allied against all manner of mythic foes, fostering a time of peace centuries long. But as time went on over the ages and the old tales faded to myth amongst all but the eldest of creatures, the ponies' hearts turned to selfishness and prejudice. They divided their tribes from one another and sought only to benefit their own kindred, often at the cost of the others well-being.

So too did the Flutters' change. As the ponies bickered and sequestered themselves in homogeneous herds, the Flutters' simple pride gradually turned to vanity and resentment. Were the not the most beautiful of creatures in the world? Didn’t the ponies themselves say as much when they had first gazed at them in breathless adoration? And so much better in other ways, for they would never stoop to such absurd fighting as between the tribes. What did they care if the unicorns moved Sun and Moon; that Pegasi directed the weather, and Earth ponies tilled the land? Their wondrous Sunstone's magical warmth nourished Flutter Valley and gave arcane vigor to the lush vegetation which provided for all their needs.

They had scoffed in arrogance and open disbelief when the first pony refugees fled across the valley, wailing absurd stories of spectral ice wraiths in the sky who first froze their victims and then descended in a shrieking hoard to sup upon the very essence of the ponies trapped within the ice; leaving only an empty shell of flesh, lifeless even when they could be thawed. “The ponies are eating moldy hay again, I shouldn’t wonder!” they had laughed to themselves… until the numbers of escapees became too great to deny the reality and they’d been left a number of the glassy-eyed living corpses as even those ponies who clung to their lifeless relations abandoned them in their own desperate flight.

But despite this, they felt secure in their little land, for the Sunstone shone brightly and its warmth forbade even the slightest chill or frost from so much as approaching the borders of their sheltered vale. Secure and warm, for some few days afterward they dwelt in blissful, willful ignorance… until the first bone-chilling spectral whinnies split the air as a clap of cold thunder.

The windigoes broke upon the Flutters’ valley with the suddenness of a mountain squall, screeching in ear-splitting tones which promised doom and despair to all who heard them. Hatred for all that lived spewed from the throats of the windigoes, a chilling declaration of apocalypse in every mocking in-equine cacophony composed of the many stolen voices of their countless prey, blended horribly with what might have been the devoured souls’ own bestial screams of torment as their conscious essence slowly, tortuously was consumed into utter oblivion.

Initially caught off guard and disquieted by the fearsomeness of their foe, the Flutters rallied behind their stalwart Queen, Damsel the Divine, greatest and loveliest of their kind. Brave and beautiful Damsel led them and alone raised her daughter, the timid Princess Lacewing, for many years since King Gleamhelm had met an untimely end in battle along with a number of the greatest warriors among the pony folk against the few remaining giant spiders which crept from the wild wood of the outer world to envenom and slowly devour the unwary or lone wanderers of Flutter and pony alike in days long past.

“We shall not fall back from out ancient homeland!” Damsel declared proudly as she rallied her people, her elegant sweeping wings alight with the radiance of the Stone before her floral throne, while Lacewing peeked out nervously from behind it. “We have bested all enemies who’ve challenged us! Forget not that even the embodiment of vileness itself, the Smooze, was turned to vapor by our power!” Though their cheers of defiance rang through the gradually chilling air in unity with their ruler, they could not help but feel the icy touch of fear in their hearts as the wicked winter spirits amassed overhead, beating relentlessly against the Sunstone’s shielding warmth, testing the limits of its power to hold back their cold cruelty.

Time soon proved the Queen’s declarations as mere sabre-rattling. Futile indeed were the Flutters efforts, for their prided swiftness could not cut through the frigid air, thickened with manifested hatred and anguish the windigoes wielded; their limbs and wings grew numb from exertion and cold. Even the might of the formerly formidable Utter Flutter failed to pierce the unnatural icy veil of wrath which surrounded the windigoes, whose power and numbers waxed inexorably greater even as the Flutters ranks began to fall along with their hopes as they witnessed the terrible doom of the downed of their kindred. The very light of of life was drained from the victims and swallowed up, their frozen faces fixed forever in the agony experienced as the windigoes feasted upon their essences.

And to multiply the Flutters’ despair, even the Sunstone itself gradually wore down with the battle, its reserves exhausted, its limits surpassed by the unending wrath of the windigoes’ winter.

At last, as the frosts crept down the hillsides and covered the once-fragrant glades with scentless, solid sterility, the haughtiness and self-assurance of the Queen gradually cracked with the grim reality of failure; her mood mirrored by her glorious wings which became frayed and worn from overexertion in their desperate battle. “Send to the Pony lands,” she reluctantly commanded at last, brushing back limp tatters of her mane which once glistened like spun glass. “While there is still warmth in the Stone, go and see if the greatest of their kind will join us to fight these monsters together.”

Three small group of the swiftest Flutters quickly assembled at the Queen's command and flashed away into the swirling snows, their bright bodies swiftly vanished amid the blinding blizzards while all the remaining Flutters mounted a distraction to mask their departure from the windigoes. After they were certain the messengers had escaped into the storms, the rest of their kin fled back to the shrinking safety of the Stone's light and tended to what few flowers remained to sustain them, hoping against hope that the ancient pacts might be fulfilled and they could rise to victory as they had in the stories from ages past.

Author's Note

Well, I suppose it's about time I started putting this little thing out there. I actually have time to write and my muse has apparently come out of its coma for a bit.

Brittle Bonds are Broken

Shortly before a full day had passed one Flutter by the name of Bluebell returned. She had been among those sent to implore the Unicorns to lend their magic, and perhaps to halt the day that the Sun might shine perpetually and possibly pierce the Windigoes' gales in time. Limping on frostbitten legs, her wings cracked and chipped, the forlorn and faded Flutter reported wearily to her sovereign’s willow-edged garden court. She stumbled through a narrow path which opened through the crowd of Flutter Ponies and made her way before the living pair of thrones with their high hanging, woven boughs bearing a different cascade of blossoms each month. In preparation for what was sure to be an unpleasant inquiry Bluebelle attempted to steady herself in the welcome radiance of the Sunstone which sat on a short pedestal of rosy marble carved in the shape of a wizened stump at the very center of the royal glade, globs of half-melted slush falling from her sides.

“What help have the Unicorns promised? Where are the rest of your band?” demanded Queen Damsel callously of her shivering ambassador, who was barely able to stand upright before her.

Gentle Princess Lacewing, leaving her usual place half-hidden behind the throne went to the side of the exhausted and swaying Flutter Pony, her quavering jade eyes watering with pity. "Mother, please," she pleaded softly. "She's hurt and tired. Can't she rest in the Stone's warmth for a moment and sip a little nectar first?"

"Time cannot be spared for niceties in a time of war, Daughter!" Damsel snorted, causing Lacewing to shrink back behind her mother’s throne, shading her spring green fur and forest hued mane in the shadows of the fell winter. "Now," she advanced upon the tottering mare. "Speak! How many unicorns will answer our call? What arcane secrets have they found to dispel this accursed winter and the demons causing it?"

Her pale blue coat shaking both with lingering cold and fear, Bluebell stuttered out between chattering teeth, "N-none, and nothing, my Queen."
Damsel's face fell into dismay, "None? NOTHING?! How can this be? Why will they not help us? Why haven’t they learned ANYTHING in all this time? What reason did they give?" Her lovely face began to crease and wrinkle and the first seeds of wrath in her heart took root.

"I was granted audience with Princess Platinum herself, my Queen," the little Flutter mare squeaked. "She very... abruptly... dismissed me with these words 'All our magic is needed for our own defense in these trying times. Besides, if your own powers have waned, you're as useless to us as you are to yourselves. Dividing my forces will only serve to kill my unicorns faster, and I'll not have my grand and majestic race destroyed out of some misplaced, pointless honor system.' She also said that stronger magic against the windigoes might exist in a faraway land, but only the unicorns could find and use it and they didn’t need us… getting in their way…”

Damsel seethed with every word.

"Ah... her assistant, Clover the Clever, was more... diplomatic..." Bluebell continued. "She wished us well but... but she confirmed her Princess' sentiments. Unicorn spells have done nothing against the windigoes save to hold them at bay for a time and there was no reason to believe sending any unicorns to our aid would lead to anything other than their deaths as well as ours. Perhaps... she was right... I am the... only one who made it back..." Her face fell, reflecting the horror of what she'd doubtlessly witnessed her group succumb. Shamefaced and sobbing softly, Bluebelle was led away at last.

"Mother," Lacewing quietly spoke. "Perhaps... they're right? The unicorns might not have made it here. They have magic, but they aren't very strong. They would have been too slow and quickly fallen to the cold.

"Do not be so foalish, Daughter!" Damsel cried. "They are selfish and stupid! To think I believed they could help when they were helpless without us against the Smooze even at their peak! Unicorn magic, pah! If they are capable of so little then clearly they have wasted their talents all these years on primping and posturing and polishing their crowns! They'll be the first to fall, I shouldn't wonder. They would have only gotten in the way. We are certainly better off without their whining if they cannot even manage a short trip in the snow!"

Lacewing cringed before her mother's outburst, and the Queen's creases softened slightly as she addressed her little daughter comfortingly, "My dear, when you are Queen you must decide who is and is not a useful ally. Some are merely parasites who take all the credit though doing little. Remember that there are those who will only feed upon your goodwill. If you are not careful, they'll leave you when they feel they no longer can use you. So it is with unicorns, it seems."

"Yes, Mother," Lacewing replied. "I understand."

“The pegasi will surely come,” Damsel murmured, half to herself. “They are warriors, quick to battle and eager to face fearsome foes. They are also skilled in aerial tactics; surely their skills and ours will complement and strengthen each other. Commander Hurricane has boasted, frequently boasted, if I recall correctly, of her military prowice and eagerness for a good battle like those of old. They will come and our Utter Flutter combined with their weather magic should drive the windigoes away.”

But this hopes was dashed within hours when another Flutter fell through the Sunstone’s shield, so frozen and weak she had to be laid before the Queen by those who’d found her gasping by the edge of the waning dome of warmth, distraughtly reported that the second of their former allies denied them aid.

“M-my Q-queen,” the distraught emissary, Dandelion, stammered. “I am sorry. The others didn’t make it. Too harsh, too cold… Windigoes were waiting for us to come back… I only made it because I… I fled…”

“Enough prattling!” Damsel snarled. “Give me some GOOD news! When will the pegasi arrive? What is Commander Hurricane’s plan to unite our powers against the windigoes? What did she say?”

Dandelion’s eyes widened and then frantically flickered side to side in an attempt to find words to soften the impact of what she had to report, “Commander Hurricane of the Pegasi declared to me that it would be foal-hardy of them to… to… waste…”

“Waste?” Damsel whispered in sinister sibilance, as tinged with frost as the air beyond the Sunstone’s reach, stomping forward with greater menace than one would expect from a fairy pony with butterfly’s wings. “What exactly did the feathered fool not wish to waste?”

“Hurricane… thought it a waste…” Dandelion shrank before her looming leader’s anger, which pulled at its fraying tether, the little mare’s pallid yellow coat fading further. “To help l-little… bugs… like us…”

Damsel’s mouth twitched and her left eye endured a spastic flutter. “Continue!” she croaked harshly.

Dandelion steadied herself with a deep breath, quieting the pattering of her care-worn and fear-filled heart to present a proper report to her Queen. “Commander Hurricane does not feel we are worth helping. She claims the pegasi have created better tactics with which to counterattack the windigoes, but that they need every available shred of wing-power to pull it off. We arrived so worn and exhausted, I fear we did not present a good face… Commander Hurricane declared that if we represented the swiftest and strongest the Flutter Ponies had to offer, then we’d be next to useless with their new techniques once she perfected the plans.”

Damsel merely glared at Dandelion, her snout wrinkled and her emerald eyes appeared to glow with rage as the façade of royal composure fell shard by jagged shard and gradually exposed a haggard interior.

Attempting to pacify her Queen, Dandelion spluttered hurriedly, “P-Private pansy, Hurricane’s personal subordinate, spoke to us before we left. She said Hurricane was only trying to boost morale and that the truth was they didn’t have any secret new techniques she was aware of. Nothing they could do allowed them to even get close to the windigoes safely. The few Pegasi that ever did touch them froze at once and plunged to the ground where they shattered like glass. She said it was so terrible that Hurricane gave up the attack and, for the first time she could remember, cried for retreat. The only plan Pansy knew of was that Hurricane wanted her to accompany her on an expedition to locate and (possibly) conquer a better land. So really… they couldn’t help us… Pansy sounded very sorry about it.”

Lacewing cautiously approached her seething mother, “It really doesn’t sound like the Pegasi could have done much, Mother. I suppose they could have tried… with the Utter Flutter and perhaps one of their storm techniques… maybe it could have pushed the Windigoes away… but if not, we’d be-“

“ARROGANT FEATHER BRAINS!!!” Damsel exploded, knocking Dandelion backwards to crumple into a whimpering thawed custard-colored heap while Lacewing leapt into the air with a fearful whinny. “How DARE that bloviating buffoon call US weak? WE… We who with OUR POWER blasted apart the shades of Arabus and returned to them their shadows when THEIR weakness got them stolen from them! She’s AFRAID!” She stalked furiously back and forth before her throne while her attendants whispered between themselves words of worry, both in dismay that a second ally had abandoned them to their fate and in concern for their Queen’s increasing anger. “The great and glorious Pegasi, sniveling cowards not worthy to be our equals! Do they think we have not fought and lost many of our kindred in the face of terrible monsters and demons, against foes I’d wager would send the lot of those blowhards crying back to their sires with their wings clenched to their shivering sides and their tails tucked between their soggy thighs! To Tartarus with them! Remember this, Lacewing! The bravado of ponies is all show! Meaningless! They’ll cast you aside and run to save their own hides! Waste no love on them, for you shall receive none when you need it!”

Lacewing almost fled once more to the safety behind the throne before a faint flicker alighted in her own eyes. She set herself down and, for the first time in her life, spoke firmly to her mother. “Perhaps so, Mother. Then should we not behave better than they and not give ourselves over to pointless tirades?”

Damsel breathed heavily and caught sight of her subjects staring at her uncomfortably, some with dismay, and not a few with hints of disgust which she couldn’t discern were due to the betrayal of yet another old alliance or at her uncouth outburst. Such a sight she must have been. Totally unbecoming of her proud and noble upbringing, it was. A sense of shame spread unpleasantly through her.

“Yes, of course, Daughter,” she admitted. “I shouldn’t let my emotions run so wild. I am… very disappointed, that it all. The Earth ponies have yet to answer. They’re a stalwart and steady sort, not given to the vanity and arrogance of the Unicorns or the rash and inconstant emotions of Pegasi. They could still help us. They have strange magic over the land and growing things. Their touch can bring lushness to the poorest soils, and some can even grow gems as though they too were living things.” She considered the Sunstone’s dimmed gleam. “It is my hope that they might be able to grow a new Sunstone, or something like it, if there is still time enough left.”

Yet before she could pull together some semblance of composure after this second messenger had delivered her dire report, Snapdragon, the lone survivor of the third party staggered into the court glade and was gingerly assisted to Damsel. Upon seeing what was clearly the last of those sent to beg the Earth ponies to lend their innate magic to tend the flowers and attempt to grow a new Sunstone, the Queen ground her teeth in rage, dropping at last the final trappings of regality, seeing once again a lone survivor and no hope of aid in his despairing face. Her lovely face now twisted with hideous hate and she glared at the half-frozen Flutter who dropped to his knees fearfully before her, shivering either from rage or the terrible expression upon his Queen’s face which bore not a little familiarity that borne upon the windigoes spectral features. "Forgive me, Glorious Damsel," he moaned, trying to shake the ice from his frost-bleached red coat.

“You’re the last because the rest were too weak and died, and you sped away like a sparrow from an eagle, am I correct?” Damsel growled sullenly, earning a number of gasps from the gathering and a bowed head of misery from Snapdragon.

Lacewing shot her mother a displeased look which Damsel returned, only to relent and address the messenger in a more formal tone. “Very well, what did the Earth Ponies’ leaders decide?”

Snapdragon opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, clearly flustered. “Chancellor Puddinghead,” he said after a moment of collecting his thoughts. “Is a very… unique pony. I don’t think she would be of much help with anything, besides perhaps giving one a headache.”
Damsel and Lacewing shared a confused glimpse toward each other. “How so? Please explain what happened,” Lacewing asked kindly.
“It was difficult to comprehend everything Puddinghead said, especially the random things she would blurt out from time to time. Personally, my Queen, I do not believe she is… quite all there,” he said sheepishly while Damsel’s left forehoof made itself familiar with her temples. “Perhaps it would be best if I recollected what portions of the discussion I can remember?” Snapdragon asked, to which Damsel merely waved her other hoof for him to continue.

……………………………………….

“And so, yeah, the windigoes really seem ta like soul food, but I think it’s wayyyy too spicy, personally!” declared Chancellor Puddinghead, scribbling X’s and O’s inside little grids of four crossed lines which she scratched repeatedly into the surface of the meeting table of the gathering hall. “Darn!” she exclaimed, exasperatedly swiping a line through three O’s in a row. “7-0! How’d she get so good at this? ARRRGG! I give up. We’ll see how she does at poker next!”

She finally looked toward Snapdragon, who sat across from her blinking in utter confusion while Puddinghead’s advisor Smart Cookie apologetically mouthed ‘Sorry about this’ from the Chancellor’s side. “So, as my grandsire would say, ‘When the ground gets frozen, the frozen get grounded!’, which means we can’t stick around when there’s ice all over the place or we won’t get any desserts for a month, and could you imagine trying to go a month without sweets? I KNOW, right? I mean, rocks are sometimes tasty, but a pony cannot live on basalt alone! Sure they have loads of minerals, but without some veggies and hay and stuff, you get all petrified after a while, and then you’re really between a rock and a hard place!” She stretched her head toward Snapdragon and whispered, “And I don’t even wanna talk about the outhouse issues after a month of an all-rock diet!” to which the bewildered stallion could only blink numbly in reply.

Snapdragon attempted to inquire about the possibility of growing a Sunstone using Earth Pony abilities, which did at least glean a passing jot of attention from the erratic leader. “Sunstone… Sunstone…” she mumbled, whipping out a pack of playing cards from nowhere and shuffling them idly. “I kinda remember hearing about that from Starswirl the Bearded when he came visiting here and I was a filly. Never seen it, don’t know a thing about it other than it’s glowy and warm. HEY!!” she shouted, standing up and flipping the entire deck into Snapdragon’s face. “Do you think you could lend it to us for a teensy bit so we can thaw out tootsies out and grow some food?” Snapdragon, as calmly as anypony could in Puddinghead’s presense, explained for the third or fourth time that the Sunstone was waning, which was why he was there asking for aid. Puddinghead, swept the cards into her hoof and frowned, “Sooooo, prolly not gonna happen.” She sat back down and began a complex and baffling card structure, drawing cards one by one and occasionally scowling at one or another.

“Got any 3’s?” she asked herself, apparently in the middle of a card game which, if it had rules were total and completely incomprehensible to anypony save the Chancellor, and then proceeded to pick from the deck and add it to the growing geometric card structure, which somehow retained the shape of a half-completed sphere. “A ROYAL FLUSH?!” she shouted, causing everypony to jump. “That’s the last straw, I tells ya!” Throwing the cards into the air and emitting a neigh of frustration, the Chancellor declared, “Meeting’s over! And so’s this place! We’re done here. Smart Cookie, it’s time to find some place warm with plenty of food!” She tapped a hoof expectantly then asked, “Anypony have directions to Horsewaii? What about YOU?” she exclaimed, pointing to Snapdragon who could only stutter that he’d never heard of such a place. “Hmph, well you’re no good, then. Go away now! The Earth ponies will go it alone!”

She stormed out of the hall, declaring her intent to the townsfolk, while the able and longsuffering Smart Cookie profusely apologized to Snapdragon, “The Chancellor’s, uhm… iconoclastic personality aside… I really wish we could help you, but I just don’t think it’s possible for us to even begin to grow a new Sunstone without understanding how the original works or even came to exist. If you’d let our rock farmers study it years ago, maybe we’d have a method by now, but… I don’t know how to say this without sounding bitter… you all were always so over-protective of it and wouldn’t let a soul get near it that wasn’t a fellow Flutter Pony. And besides that, we Earth ponies don’t have any magic that would help grow anything in frozen ground, plus how could we even fight against something like a windigo, which doesn’t even have a solid body to buck.” She sighed, “You’d best head back home and think about moving out yourselves. There’s no point in staying still and freezing to death.”

Chancellor Puddinghead suddenly appeared beside them which caused Smart Cookie to rear up and Snapdragon to leap into Smart Cookies’ forehooves in shock. “Yeah! What are you even still doing here?” asked the Chancellor dismissively, waving at the stallion. “Shoo! Shoo! Fly away home, little ladybug! Or… I guess ‘gentlemanbug’ in your case.”

Snapdragon had left soon afterward, dispirited and confused, with the two who’d made the trip with him, both of whom were lost to the windigoes; which seemed to know where they’d gone and attacked halfway on the return journey.

……………………………….

Stunned and bewildered by the utter audacity and absurdity of the Earth Pony leadership, Damsel spluttered in disbelief, "Insanity... sheer, utter INSANITY! And I expected assistance from such... such MADPONIES?! Would we even be able to drink nectar from the flowers they grew? And the Sunstone... with those buffoons, I expect they would give us an ICE-stone instead! And you!” She struck Snapdragon across the snout with all the force her dainty hoof could generate causing him to fall upon his haunches and clutch his sore nose, stifling a slight bleed the blow released. “You allowed that crazed imbecile to show you off just like that! Cowed like a disobedient dog, you slunk back here to simper at the table of your masters for some of my last scraps!”

“Mother!” Lacewing admonished harshly in a stern tone that surprised even herself. “Enough! Our subjects did all they could to bring us word! What could they hope to do alone against the windigoes? The pony tribes may have betrayed us but our people are all loyal! They are here, now, ready and waiting to serve! None hesitated to fly off into the storms and danger to see aid and they gave their very souls in sacrifice! Nothing greater could they have lost, and they do NOT deserve such awful words and even less to be attacked by their Queen when they gave their all to aid us in this desperate hour!”

Damsel gazed at her daughter disbelievingly as the whole court held its breath, then she turned and looked upon the concerned faces of the few hundred of her people which remained. The tense atmosphere didn’t last for long; as something at last broke the hardness within Damsel. The Queen returned to her throne and sank wearily into her seat, casting a longing and lonely look upon the empty throne beside her. “From where did this strength come, my Daughter?” she inquired, her voice suddenly softer as she turned and regarded her once reclusive daughter now standing tall.

"Perhaps it was always here, Mother,” Lacewing sighed, wilting slightly from the unfamiliar weight of confrontation. “I only never needed it before now. I know I can’t hide behind you anymore, not when you’re stumbling under this burden. I should be beside you, to help you rise above the clouds. If we can’t count on the ponies, we can still help each other. But… perhaps not here. One thing that Smart Cookie pony said did make sense, Mother. We should try to find a new land. We can’t hold out long here.”

Damsel slowly shifted herself upon her throne and regarded her court in silence. Every ear and antennae within the space held still with rapt attention, awaiting their Queen’s next words. “Leave… leave our home?” the Queen’s voice wavered with indecision and doubt, and the telltale tightness of fear. “Can we do even that now?” The icy wind’s vicious howl drifted through the glade, drawing attention to the deadly devastation inching closer all the time, reminding all present of how tenuously they clung to survival in their dying valley.

Fight to Flight

The sheltering warmth of the Sunstone shrank steadily under the relentless onslaught of endless false winter until at last all the Flutters huddled close to its fading glimmer in the royal glade while the windigoes stalked just beyond the reach of its waning light across the narrow ring of remaining copses of flowers, eager to devour their fill of living souls.

The indecision of the Queen, thankfully, did not last long. Before the week had passed to the next and after nights spent in sleepless consideration of their scant choices and urgent instruction to her daughter in matters of leadership should misfortune befall herself and Lacewing be required to suddenly take up the mantel, she announced the option upon which they would cast all their final hopes.

“The inclemency of our destruction is all too obvious. We must attempt to find a new home, no matter how dire or dangerous the risk, nor how arduous the journey,” Damsel declared sternly. “The Sunstone will fail in due time regardless of our choice, and to remain here is certain doom.”

“But where in this world is safe from the windigoes?” one frightened mother whimpered, clutching her young foal against her slender form. “In what direction will we find warmth when the windigoes seemingly fly everywhere?”

“To the south is the most sensible way,” Lacewing responded in the confident tones adduced by her mother’s coaching in the pre-dawn hours. Clear to the eyes of all, she’d grown if not so much in stature than in poise and grace, transfigured both by her mother’s instruction and the catalysis from within her own awakening. “The Sun shines much more strongly there. It may be that the windigoes will find it hard to endure in those lands.”

“I know that beyond the valley in that direction lies warmer land,” said Queen Damsel thoughtfully. “In my youthful excursions, I spent some days in those distant places. There are deserts that bake under the Sun and snow is known by its aboriginal inhabitants only as so much fairy tale nonsense. It is difficult for me to believe that even the windigoes could chill such searing sands, for not only are they scorched by the Sun, but vast reaches are nearly uninhabited and the demons of ice would find scant souls upon which to sustain themselves. It is a far trek, I will not deceive you, and would require a full day and night’s worth of the swiftest flight by the fastest fliers to reach in even the best of conditions. As we are weak and weary…” Her confidence faltered and her voice lost its edge. “It could take weeks if we cannot at least leave behind the storms.”

The little crowd of Flutters murmured amongst themselves, doubt and hesitance abundant in tone and word. “We should have left long ago, when the demons first appeared,” some grumbled, forgetting that they had oft been among the most ardent voices for remaining stalwart in the face of adversity. “It’s too late. We might as well just die now,” others despaired, imagining themselves locked in the icy embrace of eternal death, their bodies empty shells frozen forever while their spirits suffered a protracted, anguished extinction within the frigid demons, denied even the hope of paradise beyond the mortal plane.

Among these mournful voices, however, did rise one very pertinent problem which demanded attention at once lest even their meager chance be lost before they even began: how were they, inquired a few of the wiser Flutters, to slip past the ever-vigilant and hungry eyes of the windigoes which now gazed wickedly upon them from every angle? Was it not certain that the moment they began to move that the demons would sweep down upon them?

For this, Damsel did have ready an answer, as ominous as it was encouraging. “We can take the Sunstone with us. We must walk as it is, and so it will not slow us in the least to carry it upon a bier which we can fashion of willow branches. For a little while yet it can shield us even as we travel. And when it fades further there one last chance.” Here she hesitated a moment and Lacewing too appeared troubled, for she also knew the tenuous nature of this sliver of hope. “The Sunstone is not a ‘one-trick pony’ as most believe. Not only passively can it defend us from the windigoes. There is a spell passed through the royal line which has never been put to use… for reasons which will become clear shortly,” she added, noting some mouths on her subjects moving in preparation for obviously indignant inquiry. With a foreboding furrowing of her brow, she continued, “The Sunstone may be used as a weapon… only once, if there is no other option than our total destruction by an enemy. It was never meant for this purpose, but our ancestors coaxed this function into its crystal matrix by careful study and application of fragments of the mostly lost arcane arts taken from the long-lost alicorn race of lore … and I tell you now the hidden truth that they were more than myth, my subjects, but I will say no more of their ways or the story of their fall. With the aid of the great unicorn sorceresses who first bound the Sun and Moon when the light of the world had been broken by the Ancient Enemy, we worked this craft into the Stone. Should it be our last option, I will cast the spell. And should it function as the elders predicted, all the power remaining in the Stone will be expelled in one great burst. It cannot be controlled, it cannot be focused; it will roll over friend and foe alike. The spell was only constructed to eject every mote of potential power within the Sunstone hastily outward in an ever-expanding inferno until it burned itself up, along with everything around it for miles.”

The Flutters’ stunned silence allowed Damsel to prepare her thoughts for the process of convincing them of the need for this drastic course of action. “Obviously, had this spell ever been used when the Stone was fully empowered, it is very likely every living thing in the Valley would instantly have been incinerated and the hills melted into glass. This spell was not made to save, only to destroy at a time when death appeared preferable to falling into the talons of the evils of those dark days. Hardly the sort of thing which would be to our benefit now, you see. But now the Stone’s energies are almost spent. It may still possess enough power within it to singe us, but we should easily survive the release. And the greatest hope in this desperate attempt will be that the windigoes shall surely be driven back miles by the heat and magical force, along with their devilish winter itself. It is then that we can push forward with all our remaining strength, a final dash for safety when all other hope is lost. We must leave at once, though, and cross as many leagues as we can with the best speed our legs can muster, saving our wings for the last sprint in the race, should it come to that.”

The muttering began again, though here and there mixed among the still-despondent a few more hopeful voices could be discerned.

“Couldn’t we use the Stone now and fly for it?” one of the stronger stallions snorted, stomping and fluttering his glimmering wings as if spoiling to challenge their hated enemies at once.

Damsel said nothing and instead looked to her daughter, who responded with a light nod of comprehension. Lacewing well knew her readiness to lead was crucial now, and every opportunity to practice and demonstrate it had to be taken when presented. “It cannot be done now,” Lacewing spoke in a voice of practiced authority, sounding to all a regal figure of maturity and regality well beyond her youthful appearance and stature, gleaned in the few days of her mother’s intense training. “There still may be enough power in the Stone to kill many of us were it to be released at present. And regardless, the distance is still too great to cross with no defense remaining to us. We would fall far short of our intended destination, for we would soon enter the domain of other windigoes between here and the desert, and how would we repel them then?”

There was no further objection, for no other argument remained. This truly was the only hope remaining. But, at least, with the clarity of this dire realization, all remaining determination and focus shifted at once into preparations.

They Flutters needed only brief instructions from the Queen and Princess now. What had to be done was obvious to all and they worked with the frantic order of bees in the last days of autumn before the frost, storing for the long winter ahead. Every last flower was plucked, the nectar drained to the last dregs and stored in hollowed stems and branches, sealed with wooden plugs and wax. Each Flutter Pony took only the most useful of their belongings, their mats of dried, sweet-smelling fern and grass-weave blankets to stave off the worst of the cold they would be facing in the mountains if the Sunstone went out, fashioning them into bundles. Here and there, a little item of personal sentiment found its way into the bags and crude packs of crucial necessities. A little broach, a small fondly remembered toy carved by a parent, a delicate glass bud vase from an old friend; but all else was left behind.

It was during this time of urgent, desperate preparation that young Lacewing demonstrated clearer direction and assertiveness than she’d shown in all the rest of her life. From the fashioning of the willow bier upon which they’d carry the Sunstone among, to organizing tallying the supplies of nectar and other few consumables they could find and determining rations, she grew into her role at a stunning speed, tirelessly working, as though a switch had been thrown inside her and she glowed brightly with royal light. Damsel, while she observed proudly as her daughter truly became a Princess of her people, yet lamented the terrors which had catalyzed her transformation. No pride had ever been so bittersweet in her experience. Inwardly, she blamed herself for their plight, the awareness of the damage done due to the delay her pride had caused circling round and piercing through her mind ever more accusingly. Her spirit bowed all the while daughter’s rose taller.

In a mere three days, they were as prepared as they could be and none could fathom anything more they could possibly take from their home that would aid them in their retreat. Four Flutters hoisted the Sunstone in the midst of their herd, who clustered about it as Damsel and Lacewing stood at the forefront to lead the way.

“And now we leave our beloved Valley, my subjects,” Damsel spoke calmly and a tone uncharacteristically humbled. “But perhaps not forever. It may be that when we reach the deserts, we will one day find the means to drive back the windigoes and reclaim what we lose today. First, however, we must reach those distant lands. Follow me, and should I fall along the way, my beloved daughter will lead in my place. You have all seen and heard her inner strength these past days. I know she will lead you well when it is her time. So let us go forth in the hope that we will have a long future ahead for us.”

Lacewing’s rallying cry scarcely resembled the small voice of the little fairy creature who’d once been most comfortable in her mother’s shadow. The flame of resistance kindled within her burned ever brighter as she rallied the Flutters, “We go into distant lands

The Flutters gave a little cheer, though somewhat halfheartedly. In spite of their Queen’s reassurance and the Princess’ fiery exuberant confidence, many could not help but hold in their hearts a measure of diffidence, suspecting rightly that it was little more than an embellished mask covering thinly the true desperation of their plight.

Still, the Sunstone yet shone and staunchly shielded them as they disembarked upon their lengthy emigration with a steady march. Windigoes furiously beat against its protection appearing incensed to the point of self-destruction at the notion that their prey would have the audacity to dare and escape them, some attempting brief incursions into the dome of magical warmth to their own detriment as they steamed and evaporated and were flung back at last, whimpering and retreating for a time.

A day passed by like this, and then another. The assault by the Windigoes at last began to lessen in intensity. The numbers of the fell demons waned little by little as they apparently became frustrated and seemingly left to pursue more unprotected prey. The Flutters began to dare to feel a little real hope as they crested the rolling hills of their edge of the valley and gazed ahead to the distant first ranges of southerly mountains dominating the horizon.

Hope failed them shortly thereafter. In the middle of the frozen, flat plains between their dead valley’s bordering hills and great peaks, the windigoes returned. Alas for the Flutters, the wicked spirits had not merely departed without purpose; they had gathered their fellows from across the land and collected into a shrieking hoard of wrath which en fell upon the dimly lit dome of protection offered by the Stone.

“To the Stone! Get close to the Stone,” Lacewing cried in frantically, realizing instantly this onslaught was more than the feeble shield could bear. Even so, it was too late and the border quaked and retreated at the impact, exposing several unfortunate Flutters who were swept up into the demonic gale of hateful, hungry windigoes and swiftly turn into frozen fragments by the feral frenzy; their guttural, agonized screams cut so suddenly, horribly short and replaced by savage screeching neighs of triumph. What little respite the dreadful feast of the demons of offered, it ended all too soon and the empowered demons resumed their attack, assailing the Flutter’s flickering protection in waves of terror, their swarming numbers striking wantonly from every direction.

Damsel at once understood if she didn’t play their last card immediately, she would not be given the time to reconsider. Reaching deep into memory, calling forth the ancient words which she spoke in a voice unused since learning the way as a maturing Princess ages ago in the caverns known only to the elder members of the royal family, she recited the spell.

At once, the Stone shone as it hadn’t in many weeks, growing in brightness and glory, fierce radiance pouring from its gleaming facets. In moments, none of the Flutters could bear to look directly at it and the fearsome calls of the windigoes faded to screeches of shock as they fled away from the unexpected eruption of power, a number of them vanishing while moaning a feeble wail. A harmonious thrum sounded across the plain, accompanied by soulful bell tones with each emanation of energy.

“Mother!” Lacewing exclaimed. “This is the magic from the Ancients? It is marvelous! If only the Stone can last a little longer, the windigoes will flee so far, we’ll easily reach the mountains at the very least!”

“No, my dearest,” Damsel replied worriedly as the Stone’s choir wavered and the steady light appeared to shake and stutter. “This was a last resort, a desperate grasp on a foal’s hope. Had we left sooner, we would never have needed to rely on this terrible spell at all. The consequence of my failure to leave when I should have will fall upon us shortly.”

No sooner had she proclaimed this portent of doom, hairline fissures spread swiftly across the Stone’s every surface as the resonant tones shortly lost their harmony and splintered into broken voices, escalating to ghastly chords of pitched crystalline torment. Damsel knew the truth of it, the spell had still been too dangerous to use in their close quarters… but what other choice had there been? Her arrogance and pride has led them to this place. She would bear the worst of it. She was their Queen and she would save what was left of her people. “Get down, all of you!” she bellowed and gathered the fractured Stone between her hooves, taking to the sky with all the strength her wings could bear.

“Mother?!” Lacewing called after her, but not a second later a shockwave of brilliance and blistering heat burst from above and washed over the little cowering herd of Flutters who'd flung themselves into the freshly boggy meadow of brittle freeze-dried grasses and mire, eliciting yelps and gasps as the flash seared the fur upon their silken manes and backs and warped their wings. Here and there, a hissing, jagged fragment of crystal struck the ground and steamed in the mud, glowing no longer from the now-spent magic but simply from its heat.

When Lacewing’s eyes recovered from the blinding brightness, they did not see her subjects slightly smoking forms, nor that the ice and show around them all was melted away. She did not even notice that the entire foul flock of windigoes not vaporized in the outburst had been driven far beyond view. All her attention was drawn to the little limp, charred figure tumbling from the sky, trailing a mist of crimson and sparkling stars.

Author's Note

Proving that I can be as cruel to happy little colorful magical ponies as any run of the mill grimdark author... just without all the swearing,sex, and gore. :trollestia:

Broken Wings

Lacewing raced upward, her desperate flight hindered by both her heat-warped wings, erratically slanting toward her mother. The jerky, bleary figure in her tear-blurred vision came into clear view agonizingly slowly for her. Too slowly, she frantically realized and beat her pained wings that much harder. Even with the storms blown back she couldn’t reach Damsel quickly enough; so much faster than Lacewing approached appeared the ravaged ragdoll body of the Queen to sail in an ever-steepening arc away from the Sun Stone’s expanding starburst trails of glittering fragments.

Whether or not her mother was already dead didn’t enter into her thoughts. There was no question of what Damsel’s condition would be should she hit the ground at such a speed, and so the only hope remaining was to arrest her fall before then. Lacewing’s dread held within it yet a spark of determination, inborn in their race, to seek the greatest of speeds of any flying thing. And as she poured forth every remaining vestige of her strength, a wave of resistance built ahead of her reaching hooves. Her mother grew clearer in her eyes. Her eyes were closed, her mouth hung ajar from which emanated several of the trails of scarlet spray. A little more, a little faster! She had almost broken through the wall… and then she was there, and had passed her mother by. Braking in a wide arc, she soared back and gingerly caught Damsel from beneath in her forehooves, straining to slow the deadly descent. Fast enough she had been, but not strong enough. The whining wind from the fall lessened, but it was too terribly clear it was still too fast. Damsel weakly coughed out a gout of crimson sputum and drew a gagging breath. She lived! But only until the downward path met its inevitable and abrupt end, Lacewing knew. The royal pair fell together toward the muddy earth and Lacewing placed herself between Damsel’s bleeding body and the ground, preparing to soften the impact with her own aching flesh. She clenched her eyes and awaited what would either be blinding pain or sudden oblivion.

And then, unexpectedly, another pair of hooves joined hers and a moment later several more. She lifted one eyelid uncertainly and beheld a number of her subject, as exhausted and breathless as she with wings as maimed as her own, pushing themselves to their own limits to save their Queen. They slowed steadily and the ground at last no longer approached. Levelling their descent at a few hooves above the earth, they gingerly cradled Damsel and, Lacewing leading, they carried the Queen back to the distant herd and laid her upon a small mound of the dried grass mats which a number of the Flutters quickly piled in preparation. Her body lay awkwardly upon its side while her chest still shakily rose and fell, all four legs pierced with crystal spines and needles splintered from the Stone. Her lovely wings had been torn completely off, leaving only shattered bloody remnants of the joints attached to her flight muscles. And to Lacewing’s horror, one great jagged shard the size of a unicorn’s horn jutted out from Damsel’s abdomen, no doubt at least that length more lay buried within her body.

One Flutter nervously asked, “Should we take the shard out, Princess?”

Lacewing, observing her mother’s face screwed in pain as consciousness slowly emerged, at that moment, nearly said yes. She was no foalish and naïve pampered Princess. Timid she had been, but always she had quietly learned all she could of many disciplines. She knew what these grievous wounds meant. Their union would be a brief one. Yet still, defiance won out shortly. “No, do not touch it. The cut will be smooth and bleed terribly. We have no potions for such a wound. That piece of stone, as horrible as it looks, is keeping her alive.”

Damsel’s eyes drifted open and wearily sought her daughter. She had heard what was said. “Take it out,” she coughed. “There’s no hope for me. I’ve failed us.”

Lacewing regarded her mother’s despairing face and set her own jaw firmly. “No, Mother. Not yet! We have not lost yet! We won’t lose anypony else!” Swiftly she called for several of her subjects to pull apart the Stone’s platform of branches and arrange them into a bier. The green limbs were slightly charred, but still pliable and in minutes they had woven a bed for their stricken Queen, upon which they placed the cleanest of their mats and blankets before tenderly laying Damsel upon it.

Not long after they’d finished and packed up what meager supplies remained, the weary and dispirited Flutters felt the first returning wintry winds carry across the plain. The brief respite of the Sunstone’s detonation had ended.

“We must go now!” Lacewing cried. “The windigoes won’t stay away for long. They will surely realize that we’ve played our last desperate card. We must reach the mountains! Among the peaks and through the passes we may lose them if they have not caught up to us by then!” She was attempting to deceive herself as much as her subjects. The windigoes could feel and follow their fear, she knew in her heart, the most labyrinthine path the Flutters could take would be only a barrier to their own escape. If they were discovered too soon, it was the end for them all.

But the little spark of defiance kindled gradually greater in Lacewing’s heart. She would not fall without expending every last wisp of her strength against the wicked windigoes, she resolved. And so she drove her tired subject onward, her heart burning within her ever more fiercely, chastising and cheering them in turn as they plodded along bearing the fallen Queen in their midst.

Into the brooding shadows of the great southern mountains, the small band of remaining Flutters fled. Beyond was their hope that they might find a mild land through which the windigoes had never wailed and cast their cursed frozen blight. Bearing with three steady and trusted servants the shuddering sylvan bier of stricken Queen Damsel, the Princess Lacewing led them toward the narrow rising path that would lead into the towering spires of unyielding rock and ice. Their going was slow. Damsel’s bier was ungainly, and through first the mire and then through the thickening snow their progress was hindered. So it had been with the Stone; but that burden, at least, had protected them. This new weight hampered both heart and limb and left them bare to the merciless storms.

The Flutter Ponies dripped with chill water while fresh snows swirled down and melted upon them once more, the brief mockery of early spring brought about by the Stone’s destruction swept away by the vast unnatural winter; silently marching, their spirits and bodies both too weak to sustain flights. Ever wary were they of the approaching but as yet distant keening whinnies of the demons which sought them, the dismal calls once more returned to assault their twitching ears which some clamped to the sides of their heads in a futile effort to shut them out. It wasn’t the great swarm which had assaulted them, for they heard what could not have been the cries of more than a triad. But, now bereft of any weapon or defense, even three were too many.

The Flutter Ponies whinnied in terror, and some attempted to break out on their own, but Lacewing’s stern voice rose above them and commanded that they stay together. They struggled onward for many paces, then the Queen’s soft voice called to her daughter, “Dear one. Have the bearers lay me down and then send the herd ahead. I… would speak to you alone.”

Lacewing opened her mouth as if to protest, but quickly drew her lips tight together and bowed her head briefly. The three who carried the Queen with her and heard the words did as they were bidden. Then Lacewing ordered all to go on as quickly as they could. They did so in silence, though foreboding lay upon every heart they did not disobey those who had led them for so long.

“Daughter,” Damsel whispered, watching her people fleeing toward the leading up-thrusted feet of the glowering mountains. “My life can’t be saved now, and I hinder my people’s escape. But I can be released from what is worse than death.” She motioned to the sharp crystal protruding from her belly. “Pull it out, my beloved daughter.”

“You’ll bleed to death,” Lacewing stated bluntly, realizing the hopelessness of this plight, yet driven to offer at least a token protest nonetheless.

“It’s better than leaving myself to the teeth of the windigoes,” she took a weary breath, slowly. “I would never survive the path through the mountains, we both know it. And I would be a burden slowing the whole herd down until the windigoes amassed and destroyed us. Our escape depends now solely upon speed, which I lack. At least my suffering will be over, and I won’t weigh you down. I am so sorry I failed you, my daughter, and all our kind. I… was a terribly foolish Queen, vain and arrogant.”

“No mother,” Lacewing leaned down upon her knees to kiss her mother’s forehead. “You were brave and bold. In times past, your strength saved us from many enemies. There was nothing you or anypony else could do against these demons. We don’t even know what weapon would serve to vanquish them all, if such a thing exists at all.”

Damsel took her daughter’s hoof and laid it upon the shard and smiled bitterly, “Perhaps it would have been better to use the spell in the Valley and put an end to ourselves in our homes. A last stand of defiance. How many souls would have been saved had I not feared a mortal end?”

“Don’t think any more upon it, Mother,” Lacewing spoke as tenderly as she could bring herself to, for love and sorrow now parried with a mounting anger in her soul. “Had you suggested it then, even I would have thought you mad and stopped you, along with, I suspect, the lion’s share of our subjects. We didn’t know… we simply didn’t know how helpless we were. And had we done so, how many could we have hoped to destroy even then? Many still despoiled the pony lands. They would have endured, even as we perished.” She lay her cheek upon her mother’s and nuzzled her affectionately. “You led us as well as anypony could in such chaotic times. Perhaps there simply was no right choice. I cannot see one. And nopony else has spoken of another path either.” She drew her head back and looked long upon the jagged piece of the Sunstone rising out of her mother’s body. “So be it,” she said at last.

Lacewing steeled herself and took hold of the sharp crystal’s smoothest planes between her teeth, barely able to prevent herself retching at the coppery taste of her mother’s blood upon it. She pulled, and the smooth edges slid easily from the wound as it were a freshly whetted blade. Her mother shook violently as it left her body, but her cries she held within so as not to cut her daughter’s heart with her pain.

The dreadful torrent of blood both Damsel and Lacewing had expected did not come. By some strange fortune (or misfortune, in this case) the sharp crystal spear had almost miraculously passed safely by all the largest vessels within Damsel’s belly. And upon entry, the shard which was still scorching hot cauterized most of the smaller vessels. Pulling the shard free reopened only a few of these. The wound bled, indeed, but in another insult to injury, she would now not die from blood loss alone.

Three pairs of sullen red dots appeared on the edge of their vision in a momentary parting of the swirling blizzards. The windigoes were near.

“Oh no,” Damsel cringed. “I waited too long. I feared death and now an even greater horror awaits me, unless-“ her eyes found the bloodstained crystal which Lacewing had let fall to the ground. “Damsel, I beg you, take the shard. Swiftly now, there’s no time.”

Lacewing lifted the shard in her trembling hooves, regarding it as a thing utterly diseased and defiled, a tightness building in her chest with the horrible suspicion of what this request must mean, “Mother, what are you asking of me?”

Damsel’s small voice spoke weakly, apologetically, “I’m so sorry… you must use it… place it upon my throat. Afterward, you must take the shard with you my daughter, though you will wish to cast it away. A poor weapon it is, but should you escape the windigoes, who knows what creatures lurk beyond the mountains? Do not hesitate to defend yourself, my beautiful, brave daughter. Oh, how you have grown, and I am proud of you. Once a timid little caterpillar, you’ve emerged from your chrysalis and made a wondrous change in yourself. You’ll grown up strong, my dear, I’m sure of it, and lead our people to greatness again. Now, hurry, please. The crystal’s edge is sharp… it will cut in an instant.”

“M-mother, I don’t-,” Lacewing’s breathing grew heavy. “I don’t want to. I can’t do that to you!” It was one thing to let her mother pass away; but to take her life, to put an end to it with her own hooves… that was just too terrible an act to perform! Such acts ruined a pony, she’d been taught long ago. It turned them into something else; a transformation took place within their hearts and minds. From what others bore witness of, ponies who killed could never truly seemed to be whole again.

Damsel, wincing, bowed her head to observe the pooling blood beneath the wound from which the shard was pulled. “Lacewing, dear daughter, I know… we have been cursed by a cruel fate and choices are sorely lacking. But the windigoes are coming. I… I will die on my own in time. You know what will become of my soul if they find me alive. Please, don’t let them take me and destroy me utterly. Set my spirit free, to a place they cannot ever reach. Grant me this last mercy, I beg you.” She touched her daughter’s fore-hooves and gently brought it down until the razor edge of the crystal lay upon the feebly pulsing side of her throat. “Swiftly now. I love you, dearest one. Farewell.”

Lacewing’s chest heaved with grief and horror at what she was being forced to do, yet there was no option left. She would never let the demons devour the soul of her dear mother, the noble and brave Queen of the Flutters. She shut her eyes tightly and clenched the frogs of her hooves around the crystal shard, the edge cutting into her flesh as well as her mother’s, but the agony in her heart was already so great that compared to it she felt nothing else, and drew it sharply across her mother’s throat while sobbing, “Goodbye, mother.” A splash of warm fluid struck Lacewing’s forelegs and a sharp gasp of breath from her mother forced her eyes open to bear witness to the unambiguous reality of what had taken place. Her mother’s wide, tear-filled eyes met Lacewing’s; the gasping mouth, filling with the same crimson liquid which gushed from the gash in Damsel’s throat in ebbing spurts, mouthed garbled words of desperate comfort. Frozen in place, the crystal shard still slicing into her hooves, Lacewing could only stare numbly as the eyes of her mother gradually lost their brightness and her body sagged limply into the bier.

A harsher, closer, evil whinny shook Lacewing from her shock. Still gazing at her mother’s body, she moved stiffly, mechanically, depositing the bloody shard into the little bag of belongings as her mother wished. She had to obey Mother’s last commands. She needed the shard. It could kill. The Sunstone could kill. She could kill. Everything was death and pain and blood and ice. There was nothing else left in the world. She stood, placed the bag upon herself and adjusted the strap and took several jerky steps backward in the show.

Her mother was still lying there. Silent. Still. Staring unseeing into the swirling blizzard.

Something cracked within her. Somewhere deep in her mind, something gave way and all manner of flecks and fragments of conflicting thought and emotion flooded together into a swirling torrent. Mother… mother… she’d killed… they made her… they forced it… She loved her. She killed her. She… saved her? Mother was safe now, wasn’t she? It wasn’t her fault. The windigoes had killed Mother, they’d killed the Valley, killed her people. They were pure evil. Where had they come from? What wickedness spawned such vile things that made death the only salvation? Why did the windigoes have to exist?

“WHHYYYYYYYYYYY!!!” she cried in a broken, anguished shriek which echoed her pain across the entire mountainside, even to her subjects halfway into the first league of the pass. “CURSE YOU DEMONS!!! I HATE YOU!!”

The whinnies came again, even closer, almost mirthful in their wickedness, mocking her impotent rage which only fed their horrible power. They were assured. They would come and nothing could stop them now; they drank up the hate and soon they would feed upon the souls of those who felt it and the terror they brought with them.

But Lacewing stood, scorched and molten within, sorrow and terror consumed in a seething rage, a fresh and wildly potent sensation she’d never experienced in her life. Had she known the word, she would have called it ‘bloodlust’. Her eyes were clear and doubt was for the moment erased. “Never again,” she growled, turned and raced through the gales to join her people, but no longer in fear. Her fury drove her into a madness out of which a new desire burgeoned in her pounding, aching heart: REVENGE!!! Destroy the windigoes or herself, whichever was needed to deny them any further triumph! Launching herself into the sky, her wings roared through the air. Faster! FASTER!! She had to move faster!

It seemed only moments before she breached the ridge and crashed down among her people, her delicate wings torn to shreds from the unfortunate combination of overheating, overwork, and inexperience. They shrank from her wild eyes and blood stained body as she announced, “Queen Damsel is dead! I am your Queen now! I set her free!” She laughed madly and trotted drunkenly around the edge of the cliff, flapping her tattering wings haphazardly. “They cannot get her! They’ll never have her now!”

Lacewing hearkened to the disappointed wails of the windigoes far down below who’d discovered they’d been denied their next victim and screamed at them in mirthful savagery, “That’s right! I saved her from you, you twisted, vile parasites! No more of us will become your fodder!” Her voice rose into a harsh hoarse scream, “Even if we must all BURN to ashes and dash our ruin upon the rocks, YOU WILL NOT HAVE US!!” Then she turned and dashed toward the craggy cleft leading into the high pass while her people drew back from her ferocious gaze. “Follow me! I am your Queen! The last Queen of the Flutter Ponies! We will either cross these mountains or throw ourselves from the cliffs! Whatever end is waiting for us, the demons will not be it!”

In fear of her mad rage and of the windigoes’ fury, the Flutters spent every last mote of their strength in the desperate flight, straining their own jeweled wings into tatters matching their new Queen’s against the ice-flecked gales blasting through the narrow mountain pass while Lacewing’s tender hooves pounded the rock in a savage war rhythm beneath them, leaving a trail of red-stained snow behind her, running and running, away from the windigoes and the agony of what she’d left behind; her peace, her joy, her innocence, her happiness. There was only the quest for vengeance left of her, and that so alien a sensation she felt as if she no longer knew the creature in whose chest her heart now frantically beat. Wing muscles still weary from their previous effort ripped themselves apart in the fight and flight, but they would be of no use any longer anyway. All that mattered now was beating the windigoes, pointless speculations upon means and method no longer were a hindrance.

On and on their frantic pace continued through the twisting passages between the icy crags at the roof of the world. The whinnies of the windigoes were at left far behind as the Flutters burned out their stamina borne of fear and Lacewing her rage and transient madness. Little by little, in twos and threes, they dropped to the snow panting and exhausted, shivering from cold and over-exertion in the thin, frigid air. At last even Lacewing’s fury could fuel her wrathful charge no further and she collapsed into a drift. As one unfamiliar with blind rage before invariably discovers, it soon burns itself out without the ample fuel acquired from carefully fostered habitual hatred in the minds of those to whom it comes naturally. There her people found her shortly thereafter, quaking not so much from the bitterness around her as from that within as the greedy inferno of anger exhausted her untempered reserves and dwindled to furtive flickers.

Gingerly, several elder Flutters who’d surmised what desperate action must have taken place between Damsel and her daughter, lifted up their broken young queen between them and sought a place of refuge from the blasting gales. Coming upon a sheltered cloven vale in the midst of the mountain’s peaks, they turned aside and discovered a deep cleft in the wall. Inside, the cavern appeared to have been split open by some great blow, narrowing to finger-width in its deepest depths, as though a giant blade striking deeply had riven the rock in ancient days. Upon a relatively smooth slab, they laid Lacewing upon a few of their woven grass blankets and rejoined the remainder of the herd near the entrance to watch and wait for either their Queen to command them to make their own end or for the windigoes to return and finish them. Clustering together, they sat and shivered without hope, misery overflowing every heart.

Little by little, angry murmurings blended with terrified whimpers of despair. All illusions of hope now utterly dashed, the Flutter ponies began to express at last the long-held resentments within them. Some blamed the Pony Tribes and wished their ends to be as horrid or worse than their own. Others, though more reserved, felt the Queen and Princess had been fools and waited too long to leave. The bickering went on, though however softly the Flutters spoke of their dismay and blame, the cavern’s shape amplified every whisper and carried all their miserable voices to the wilting ears of the Princess.

Unable to block out the echoing sentiments of her subjects, Lacewing then turned away and curled herself tightly, and heard a tinkle as her bag shifted. She glanced sideways and noticed that the blood-stained shard of the Sunstone had fallen upon the stone. It lay there, and she felt no compulsion to retrieve it. With the bravado burned out of her by utter exhaustion, she knew she couldn’t do that again to another pony, not even to save their souls from consumption. It made her sick just to look at it. Not for all that display of wrath and pride had shown, she was still just a frightened foal at heart, covering her helplessness with a useless tantrum. Her sliced fore hooves throbbed in pain. She hurt everywhere, she realized, and her heart worst of all. All her life now was pain. At least Mother was away from all of the pain now. And Lacewing wanted to be free of it as well.

“I just wanted to have a simple, happy life with Mother and all the Flutters back in the Valley,” she spoke quietly to the patiently listening stones. “I was happy just being… me. Timid, quiet, never having to raise my voice. It was fine that way. And now it’s gone, all of it. Our valley, our lives, my mother… even myself.” The cold, harsh, unavoidable reality of their plight trickled through her mind. “We can’t run any more. It’s still too far and we’re too weak. We’re lost. The next time they find us… it’s over. If we can’t end our lives ourselves before they catch us, they’ll eat our souls… there’s no way out.”

Her eyes wandered back to the shard. Its bladed edges still lay ready for whatever purpose she decided to put it to. She reached for it, calmly resigned in her mind to plunge it straight through her heart. Yet as she beheld it, she saw that it now shone dimly, even in the dark cavern, but with a fell and fey mist of unearthly impure light which seemingly had begun kindling within it. Lacewing ruefully smirked, “Is that from what I’ve done with you? There are still quite a few of us. I wonder how many of us you’ll be able to handle. Can you offer us all the way to escape?” She continued, swearing vows to whatever would listen, good or evil. “I’d take anything now, anything to get away from this miserable life of certain death. If anyone or anything offered me the power to destroy every windigo in the world, I’d take it, no matter what it cost me.” She mused pointlessly on who’d need to be punished when whatever fantastic miracle occurred at the last possible second and she would rise above all other living things in power and glory to smite her enemies. “And the cowardly ponies too deserve my revenge. They left us to this. Not a shred of love, friendship, or pity could they spare for us… they don’t deserve any in return. I should take every bit of love away from them and leave them as hollow and miserable as they’ve left me, empty of anything but bitter sorrow and futile anger.”

She didn’t expect a reply. And yet, the facet of the crystal facing her shone brightly with a sickly light and a vibrant yellow eye with a violently red pupil gazed out at her and a deep and crooning voice sounding at once both infinitely far away and immediately present rose from the shard, “Well now, my dear, I do believe I can help you with that… if you’re willing to strike a little bargain.”

Author's Note

Clearly, the voice belongs to none other than.... Oogie Boogie!

Yep, this was "A Nightmare Before Christmas" crossover all along!

And you can totally trust me. :trollestia:

Dealing With A Devil

Lacewing recoiled with a frightened yelp from the unexpected voice emanating from the shard, so suddenly was her reflexive withdrawal that she immediately lost her balance and fell backward from her perch onto the cavern floor, stunning herself momentarily.

“Dear me, I hope I didn’t break her already,” floated the otherworldly worlds into her ears as the stone ceiling wobbled in front of her eyes. “Yoo-hoo! Anyone there? You didn’t crack your kumquat, did you? Scuttle your skull? Noodle your noggin? Sprain your brain?” the voice called again after a few seconds of silence Lacewing would later find blessed.

She considered not answering, but something compelled her to peer across the mats piled upon the slab to the shard whereupon the red-centered eye was searching about from facet to facet, internal curiosity or a subliminal command she could not tell. Suffice to say, she yielded to the urging rather swiftly, for when there is already no hope, there is little purpose to hesitation. “What… who are you?” she finally said as the garish gaze found her again.

The eye brightened as it set upon her and regarded her curiously, “Ah, there you are! I say, do you always looks like a tattered, miserable wreck of wrath and self-loathing, or am I catching you on a good day?”

Lacewing’s concern quickly became subsumed by consternation and she frowned. “Perhaps I should just smash what’s left and be done with it.”

“Now now! Let’s not be hasty!” quickly piped up the voice. “I think a talking tree thing said that once to a couple of little fellows. It’s good advice, at any rate. Especially when you’re deeply upset by something! Rash action can lead to amusing outcomes in most cases, but here we have a rather unique situation; a set of marvelously coincidental opportunities where we must both mind our P’s and Q’s for the time being. Especially mind the Q’s, my dear. They’re a rather tough lot to deal with. I speak from personal experience on the issue!”

“You have not answered my question, Creature,” Lacewing spoke cautiously, wary of this being which stared up at her from an unknowable space. “Who are you and what are you, and why are you here? And how can you speak through the fragment of our Sun Stone?”

The eye half-lidded with what might be termed mild amusement. “So interrogative for such a young one. I’d expect a severe interrogation from ancient sages, withered wizards, and certain ship captains, but not from one of so few years. Usually your sorts asks how many wishes I’m willing to grant and leaves it at that. You interest me. I’m glad I heeded this particular call!”

Lacewing found this declaration not the least reassuring. “I want you to answer at least one of my questions when next you speak, or this conversation ends.”

The eye rolled, “Interesting, but VERY demanding you are, right up front!” The voice sighed exaggeratedly, “Very well… I’ll answer your last question first. I’m not actually ‘here’… or ‘there’… that’s where you are relative to me. Do directions even have relatives? I once knew a curve who was an awfully straight fellow. Regardless, I’m ‘here’ of course, but it’s MY ‘here’ and not YOUR ‘here’… or is that your ‘there’? Or is it that you’re there already? Well that’s neither here nor there. As for who I am, I am… DISCORD!”

Lacewing blinked. The eye stared.

“You know, Discord? Spirit of Chaos and other stuff? Phenomenal cosmic powers? Render of reality and reason? Master of madness and mayhem?” the voice chirped hopefully.

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“Oh, right! I’m getting ahead of myself. That’s not for quite a while yet. Sorry about that, temporal linearity and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms. I see bits and pieces of everywhere as well as every-WHEN. It gets quite confusing!” Discord chuckled, “Never mind all that then. Let me put it simply. I can tell you’re in need of powerful assistance, and I’m willing to deliver in exchange for a very simple favor on your part.”

“A favor?” Lacewing spoke with suspicion. “I am Queen Lacewing, creature called Discord, leader of my people the Flutterponies, and we are in grave peril, indeed. I am young, as you say, and not experienced in or familiar with all the strange things of this world, and we are desperate for salvation… but not so desperate that I would make deals with a thing that speaks to me in careless jests and half-formed riddles from a piece of shattered stone!”

Laughter, the last thing Lacewing expected in response to her rebuke, rose from the shard, the eye was closed momentarily in mirth, “Wonderful! Such passion and determination! Ah, but I sense so much more lurking beneath the surface. Your emotions are roiling like a seething cauldron, ready to burst out at any moment! What form will they take when they’ve finished cooking, eh? You’re a template I simply must work my pallet upon! A substrate simply awaiting a master’s touch to reveal the hidden masterpiece within!” Discord laughed again and then the eye opened and beheld her with a cunning stare, “Very well, you wish to know how I found you? As a small token of gratitude for this delightful chat, I’ll speak straightly, just for a short time. It’s tiring for one such as I, for my kind see the humor in all that moves and we can scarcely refrain from hitting the punchlines. I felt the destruction of your Artifact of Order. Its cracking resonated through many boundaries, for it was used for a purpose outside of its created intent and so it wailed as it died to its Makers, though they passed by all ways long ago and were gone from simple realities nigh your world even bore a finished shape. It strained the boundaries of the world in its death-throes and left a tiny chink in the boundaries keeping apart that which is and that which has no substance yet, where I and others of my kindred wander until fortune provides us a vehicle. And I, floating as I had for untold ages in a place without a location, where everything was nothing and I was everything, perceived the Order object’s cry. I peered through the miniscule gap; that bright, beautiful little pinprick in the walls of the worlds. And it was enough of a view to know your world was exactly what I’d been looking for, a world of life and variety and, most importantly, POTENTIAL! I can work with that! And then I beheld more. I know the danger you face. I know what you used the shard for. I saw and felt your anguish and pain. And the breach grew wider, so temptingly it called to me, and so I called to you. And you heard me.”

Lacewing trembled, for she knew she was doubtless in the presence of something both ancient and terrible, powerful beyond any measure she could comprehend. To dally with such a being could endanger her soul as surely as the windigoes… And yet, in spite of herself, a spark of hope kindled unbidden. Such power this being claimed it would wield for her benefit, and for something little in return. It was a Chance. Should it be taken?

As the young Queen debated within her heart, the voice carried on, “Normally, we of the In-Between can only ever see the tangible worlds thinly, as through a clouded looking glass lit by a candle. We see so many shadows of wondrous places and events we’d love to experience and act upon, to write the scripts for the stories in those worlds ourselves, and yet we can’t touch anything of them without just the right set of coincidences. And only one can go through any particular crack, then it’s closed off to the rest of us. Oh, it’s all so cruelly tantalizing! So ALIVE and flowing and changing and shifting, always faintly in view and eternally out of reach.” The voice grew sad, almost pleading. “In this non-place, it’s always so dark and empty. I’m all there is. I am the universe here, and there’s only so much internal exploration I can perform. I haven’t been able to use my talents for such an impossibly long time. The little mote of light I can see of your world is only a teasing glimpse. There are Rules related to the rifts between worlds which even I wouldn’t dare break; conditions and ceremony for entry of any like myself.”

“And this is why you had not simply entered when you found the opening?” Lacewing inquired politely.

“Exactly! My kind tend to be an anathema to most universes since we don’t tend to obey any of the local laws and quantum uncertainty principles. And FORGET conserving momentum! I waste that by the truckload! What I need to really get a foot in the door is that tiny favor from you. An invitation, to be precise. I must be wanted in the world I wish to enter, or the very fabric of reality will form a barrier against me!” Discord’s voice took on an accent similar to one Lacewing had heard years ago as a foal when she had visited distant desert lands, “Command me to enter; rub the lamp and call upon the djinn, as some legends call the deed, in return for allowing me into your world where things happen, all manner of shapes and noises and colors are endlessly in motion and just waiting to perform for me, I will grant you whatever you wish of me, Master!”

Lacewing thought for a moment and opened her mouth to answer, but the Spirit interrupted before she could get a word out, “Oh, except for a few little provisos I simply refuse to do!”

“What might those be?” she asked, finding herself curious as to what a creature of such age and power who appeared to transcend reality itself might find objectionable.

“Simple things, really. I don’t believe you’d ask me for any of them, but I would like to be clear on it just in case you suddenly go all morbid on me all of a sudden and then try to claim I haven’t fulfilled my obligations. Stranger things have happened, and you can take my word on that! I won’t kill anything. I don’t like it. Death is…” Discord’s voice paused, his eye searching to put the right words together. “An ending. I’m not fond of endings. It means someone can’t change anymore, can't be toyed with and all their potential just ceases to exist. It flat out stops and disappears. It takes a cheerful light I can play with and puts it out. It’s like a piece of this darkness I’m in right now. And it happens to be one of the VERY few things I can’t undo. I REALLY don’t like it. I won’t stop you if you decide to kill on your own, but don’t even think of asking me to do it! That’s the big personal issue. The other is a practical no-no. I can’t give you power equal to my own. That’s absolutely forbidden. I’m sure it has something to do with the overwhelming majority of you fleshy beings having nothing remotely close to the capacity to contain my power and you would rather sorta kinda blow up instantaneously and take a couple star systems out with yourselves in the process.”

Lacewing swallowed nervously, “Ah, then I do not believe I shall request that. But the first part, you would not destroy the windigoes if I asked?”

Regarding her curiously, “Oh those ice horse-ghost things that’ve been hounding you. I did get a glimpse of them through the shard. Well I’m not really sure they’re alive in the traditional sense to begin with… but wouldn’t you like to take care of that yourself? That’s the reason you want my help, isn’t it? It’s the primary reason you’re still talking to me, I’d be willing to wager.”

She looked outward to the opening of the cave, beholding her people gathered together in the snow, some heads bowed together and some looking anxiously into the swirling winds, their ears turning this way and that to catch the first sounds of the approaching enemy. “You seem to know me well already, Discord, for you are quite correct. I wouldn’t be satisfied if I allowed anyone else to have my revenge for me.”

The voice from the crystal grew eager, hungry with anticipation, “Then there’s no need to waste time waiting any longer, is there? You know what I want and you know what you want and I know what you want and we know what we want! No more hesitation, what do you say? Wouldn’t want those pesky windigoes showing up before…” A faint ghastly wail filtered through the winds and the herd outside quickly leapt up. “Oh now I should have known that would happen. Good going, Discord! I really should be more genre savvy than this!”

One of the Flutters rushed in and cried to Lacewing, in his frantic terror of the windigoes noticing neither the eerie light nor the eye within the crystal shard, “They’re coming, my Queen! We must either flee or die! I won’t be taken by them! I WON’T!” His voice rose to a scream, but Lacewing swiftly raised a hoof before his face and silenced him with a cold, furious glance. “They will not take us. Not now. And never again.” She looked down at the shard once more and the stallion followed her view until with a gasp of shock he too saw what looked upon them both.

“Discord, spirit of Chaos,” she spoke firmly while the Flutterpony beside her shrank away, muttering fearfully. “I call you into our world. In exchange, I demand the power to avenge my people.”

A deep and resonant tone tolled from the shard and its light stuttered, strobing ever faster until at last a singular narrow ray shot forth from the shard it began to rattle and deform, appearing to soften and run as butter in a hot pan. The beam was unlike any light Lacewing had ever seen or even dreamed in her nightmares, for it gave no light to anything it touch, casting no shadows, and it chilled her with its fay tones. Where it touched the stone ceiling it simply ceased, casting Discord’s laughter began again, sly and sinister now, growing swiftly louder and higher until it echoed within the chamber, the pitch rising to an almost manic cackle of pure uncontrolled glee.

The Flutterponies all turned in shock and terror toward to cavern and beheld a sight which rivaled the Windigoes for sheer horror. A great lion’s forepaw burst forth from the blinding beam of cold light, wicked claws flexing and seeking followed swiftly by the cruel talons as it were of a huge eagle. Both appendages grasped the edges of the cold beam and spread it apart, as though the creature within was rending a veil. Between the seams of light a void of utter blackness lay, and from it came a head gaunt and misshapen, a mockery of equine form with a ragged tuft of a beard dangling from its chin. Upon the head arose a twisted blue horn on one side while the other bore a jagged, branched antler. A sharply defined mane of jet black jutted back between the creature’s ears and sliced down the long, sinuous neck. Yet what held all breathless were the disquieting eyes of sickly yellow, sulfurous in hue with burning red coals shining forth with a malevolent mirth in their depths. The creature withdrew more of its misshapen form from the rift, glancing about with a fearsome grin which displayed a set of crocodile’s teeth save for one gigantic sabertooth which jutted downward from the beast’s upper lip. A draconic leg and a hoofed one set foot upon the cave floor, a crimson serpent’s tail was whipped through the breach of the world and the paw and talon released the edges of light which slammed shut with a thunderous crash. The lights faded and the puddle formed by the melting shard smoked and swiftly vanished with a hiss.

The creature’s smile grew even wider, more sinister, a forked tongue licked at the long jutting fang as if in anticipation of feasting upon the herd of helpless prey before it. And then the mood was broken as the beast’s expression changed as once to joviality and it soared over them laughing merrily as two wings, one feathered with sapphire and the other leathery as a bat’s flitted spastically upon its back. “Here I am all you lucky Flutterponies, you! The one and only Discord, draconequus supreme!” he declared as he swept toward the cave entrance, unfurling a banner which read 'Discord For Princess!' as horns and trumpets and even a piano dangling from it played a merry marching tune. “I’m free at last! Glory Hallelujah!” Once at the entrance, the chimeric creature looked out upon the lifeless land of unfeeling rock and ice and beheld the in the distance the searching hoard of windigoes creeping through the mountains, drawn by the traces of anger and awaiting the terror of night to attack. It’s expression fell to dismay and the instruments groaned down to silence. “Well what a miserable welcome this is! Everything’s so dreary and dire around here! I can practically taste the bleak melodrama! (And it also smells awfully of teen spirit…) Not even a cheery welcome banner with my name misspelled on it or anything!"

Discord soared up into the clouds and grabbed one, then dragged it down to the Flutter Ponies who’d numbly followed it out in their completely baffled state of mind. He gave it a squeeze, and a soft frozen confection of deep brown flowed in a waving cylinder, coiling upon the ground. "No no no! It's even too cold for chocolate soft serve! I was hoping for hot chocolate! Ugh! CLEARLY this place is crying for a woman's touch! But since we don't seem to have any of those here, I suppose I can fill in." He twisted himself into a knot and sprang back into shape with a snap, now wearing a shapely elegant dress replete with frilling and bobbins, as two windigoes suddenly broached the vale and swept into the cavern, whinnying triumphantly and sweeping down upon the screaming Flutters who crowded against the back wall. But before they could so much as touch a single Flutter Pony, the outlandish chimeric creature grabbed them in his tail. “Dahlings,” he said to the struggling, snarling winigoes. “I vant to be alone. Ve’ll always have Paris Hilton!” He gave each a long, sloppy kiss on their frozen cheeks while an expression sprang upon their fearsome face the Flutterponies had never before seen upon a windigo before: utter bafflement. With a flick of the snake tail, the windigoes were flung out of the cavern and their confused wails faded into the distance. With a snap of his talon, the creature vanished the dress and sprayed its mouth with a bottle of breath freshener it conjured in that same instant, “Ugh, rather nasty things those windigoes are. A foul taste from feeding upon souls. What a dismal and uncouth tactic! No self-respecting higher-class entity would ever resort to such low-level means of survival! Clearly, these things emanated from the shallow end of the ectoplasmic pool! Little demon kids piddle in that end too. It’s disgusting!”

It was then that Lacewing pushed her way forward through her frightened people and looked calmly into the bizarre creature’s face, “You must be Discord.”

It chuckled and regarded her with a bemused grin, “Why whatever gave it away? Was it the dress? The chiffon was too much, wasn’t it? Be brutally honest with me!”

“I will admit,” Lacewing muttered while looking over her new benefactor with an uncertain eye. “You are not… anything I could have expected.”

Discord snorted, “I take pride in being unpredictable, you know! Comes with the name and purpose! Now, to business matters, because I feel like skipping all the pointless formalities and I’ve got lots to see and do. People to bother, places to rearrange.” He waved his paw in a circular motion, trotting along with his eagle talon held behind his back, surveying the Flutterponies discriminately. “Yes, far too feeble as you are. You’re clearly going to want quite a bit more power to stop those nasty winter horse thingies, as well as be immune from their abilities, and I suppose a requirement for something other than physical food will be helpful help, what with everything being in a deep-freeze,” said Discord, whipping out an abacus and flicking the beads back and forth in apparent random fashion, while a ticker tape inexplicably flowed from a slit in one side, covered with indecipherable numerals from a hundred languages simultaneously. “Ah, and of course you’ll require a sufficient source of energy… should tie that into what you eat, more convenient that way. I hear renewables are really in vogue these days, and I have just the thing! I adopted the idea from this film called I spotted from shadows of another world’s future… or past? Oh I have no idea! Time is so hard to keep track of when you’re somewhere it doesn’t exist! “The Matrix”… though I suppose I should call it the “Maretrix” to cover myself with fair use parody clauses. But then again, none of you have any idea what that is or access to lawyers, or any other forms of jurisprudence for that matter, so I’m no danger of being sued.”

“Y-yes,” said Lacewing, incapable of comprehending the kaleidescopic creature's limitless capacity for warbling seemingly endless streams of random nonsense. “I suppose you’ll know best how to grant my wish.”

“Of that, you can be certain! Though I suspect that, like myself, it’ll end up being unlike anything you can anticipate.”

Lacewing nodded, though a bit more tight-lipped, and added, “But it is not merely the windigoes who we must be avenged of. I want to punish the ponies as well. None of them would come to aid us when we begged for their help.”

Discord raised a shaggy eyebrow, “Oh really? Well well, getting a taste for vengeance are we? Dear dear, you might want to think about that a little more.” Adding a touchpad to the abacus, Discord hummed a carefree little ditty while fiddling with the seemingly meaningless figures, “May all your dreams come truuuuuuue… And carry the sloth… to the square root of an octahedron… raised to the power level of over 9,000, and there we have it!” Discord dramatically slammed a talon upon a giant ‘ENTER’ key and the whole apparatus shook and smoked; gears, widgets, and asparagus shooting out impossibly from everywhere. “She canna take much more o’ this, Captain!” Discord exclaimed, diving behind Lacewing. “She’s gonna-!” A tiny bell rang, and final string of paper slid out of the slot and slithered snake-like into Discord’s swiftly outstretched lion’s paw. “Oh, never mind then,” he shrugged and read. His bent mouth twisted into a sly grin, “Oh my… are you really sure about this? I’ve calculated the price you’re going to have to pay… and it’s quite a steep one. Lots of zeroes, figuratively speaking.” The paper hissed and bit Discord’s eagle talon, “Ow! A paper cut!” He shook it the receipt off and it slithered away into the darkness, doubtless to seek another victim to sink its fibrous fangs into.

Lacewing’s eyes narrowed, “What is this about a price we must pay? You promised I only had to let you into the world and you’d grant my desire.” Many of the Flutterponies edged away, slowly making for the cave’s entrance, fearful to have anything to do with a creature both so obviously powerful and insane. One of Lacewing’s advisers slunk over to her and whispered, “My Queen, why would you deal with this… this thing?” She merely glowered at the elder Flutterpony, “If I had not, we’d be dead. Be still and thank me that we still draw breath!”

Discord pretended not to notice a thing and slunk toward her, embracing her barrel in a loose coil of his serpentine body, “It’s not MY price you’ll have to pay,” he said, poking her nose with one of his lion paw pads. “It’s the one your world itself will exact as toll over time. Actions have consequences. It’s that whole cliché ripples in a pond thing; cause and effect. I can see quite a way down the line from here, and though you certainly will have great success, there will also be pain. Are you sure you want to bear it?” His face had fallen into an expression of mild annoyance at next glance, “You see, even if I wanted to completely exempt you from any negative effects, there is one annoying ‘rule’ I must abide by; one of those little quid pro quos to which all us wish-fulfillment sort are bound.”

“A rule?”

“Indeed,” sighed Discord again, wrenching an absurdly large tome from a tiny crack in the wall where Lacewing was certain it couldn’t possibly have fit. “A tiresome clause which I doubt will have any bearing whatsoever upon the outcome of our little deal at this point. But, there we are. I hear the Big Bosses get quite huffy whenever we violate certain precepts and the paperwork can last a LITERAL eternity.” Affixing a monocle to the tip of his tongue, where, to Lacewing’s shock a third eye opened, the spirit of chaos recited, “As to the recipient of the aforementioned bequest so described in Article 32,948; Section 268b: sub-clause ‘Hubris is bad, m-kay’ attained from the cosigned cosmic entity so indentured by promissory contractual obligation upon release from lamp, bottle, can (aluminum, steel, or other), magic mirror, Mafuba, black hole, or inconvenient parallel dimension, blah blah blah…” He flipped several hundred pages rapidly, “Wherefore the aforementioned subclause pertaining to the unintended consequences is rendered moot by conditional recusal of the petitioner should one of the listed line axillaries be enacted by same. Cross-reference with ‘Darby O’Gill and the Little People’ for the instant erasure clause of four wishes upon a single pot of gold by single supplicant… Ugh, so much red tape!” He shook the book upside down and spools of red tape unwound upon the cave floor. “Too long, didn’t read… I don’t feel like spending the next half century reciting all the rigmarole and you certainly don’t have the time! Let’s put this in a nutshell we’ll both understand.” Tossing aside the book, he suddenly winked into appearance a small folded wafer of some sort Lacewing had never seen and cracked it open, pulling from it a small strip of paper which he read in a solemn voice with his lion’s paw held aloft, index finger jutting upward judiciously, “Confused and Bewildered say, ‘Be careful what one wish for, or may get it’.”

While Lacewing was taken aback and rather insulted by the flippant antics this strange creature displayed, an urgent instinct in her heart warned her not to directly insult him; for with powers clearly vast, unknown and ominous, Discord was nothing to trifle with or make mockery of. Uncertain what to say or think in reaction to the strange spirit’s bewildering words, Lacewing only mumbled in confusion, “I don’t understand.”

“I know, right!” Discord huffed, tossing the pastry shell and paper behind him, where it promptly screamed “INCOMING!” and exploded into a chorus line of dancing minnows, trout, and various other aquatic denizens singing “Shoo-bee-doo, bop bop!” repeatedly. “That’s advice, not a fortune! These things are a gyp, I tell you! Anyway, basically it’s a reiteration of that little ‘pricetag’ I made mention of earlier. It means I can give you whatever you wish for. ANYTHING at all, but if you’re not very specific I can fulfil it in any way I choose so long as it meets your stated conditions. And I’m VERY creative with interpretations…”, his head popped into a strange shape of oval golden metal, with naught but a rectangular slit for a mouth, his voice mechanical as he stated, “…as I am fluent in over six million forms of communication.” In flash he was back to what passed for normal, and continued, “So there’s almost certain to be some unpleasant side effects of whatever I do to you. It’s just the nature of the beast at work, so to speak. The whole ‘law of unintended consequences’ and Murphy’s Law and a bunch of other such hyperbolic cliché provisos authors love to bombard characters with in stories. But it boils down to two things: a) the universe won’t be too pleased with you for letting me in and breaking its rules to help you, and b) I can’t help myself because of my own inherent nature to be mischievous.” He snapped the fishy parade away and reached behind him as he prepared to sit, a stone throne crowned with antlers swiftly sprouting from the slabs beneath him, complete with a brightly-colored patchwork cushion.

Stunned by the random displays of the twisted creature’s unnerving powers, Lacewing entertained for a brief moment the voice of reason advising her to break off contact with him at once. But the memory of her mother’s blood staining the snow and her empty eyes once more flared into an inferno within and swiftly scorched to ash this last desperate gasp of reason away and left in its place only the festering anguish and rage. “Whatever comes, I will take the worst of it on myself, if that must be the case,” she growled. “Just get on with it and grant us power to avenge ourselves, I don’t care how you do it or what form it takes!”

The image of her mother’s once proud, lovely eyes lined with sorrow and despair as the light of life slowly left them seared Lacewing’s thoughts with grief and rage. She spat vengefully, “I’ve already paid a price far greater than you can imagine. Every bit of it will be paid in full by everything that’s hurt us… and the be-damned ponies who threw us away like refuse when they couldn’t use us anymore!”

She continued, the hurt and tears flowing freely from her, “We battled the horror of the Smooze with those cursed cowards, salvaged victory when they had no hope; but they left us behind without a thought in this endless winter their own petty fighting helped bring upon us all!” Lacewing shouted to Discord who had unwound himself from her and now drifted carelessly above, somehow pressing a small cloud between two graham crackers and a square of chocolate he’d had apparently conjured while his tail’s tuft screeched out a mournfully tune upon a very small violin. Her slender emerald chest heaved with the weight of bitter wrath. “They left my mother to die and me… the rest of us… to freeze after her in anguish as those demons feasted on our souls! Curse them all. Do whatever seems good or amusing to you, Discord; so long as you give us the power to have our revenge on them.”

Grinning a smile that would have curdled cream for all the sinister intent contained in the curled lips and single gleaming fang, the cruel spirit beamed triumphantly and then laughed mirthfully in the wintry air above the shivering remnant. “You’re giving me that much freedom in this request? Wonderful! I didn’t expect to be permitted to exercise my creative genius to such a complete extent! I shall make you all truly works of art, my dear!” he exclaimed in delight. Too little time did the new Queen have to consider what sly wickedness Discord might intend in that smile.

“Just do it and get it over with,” Lacewing growled.

Rolling his eyes, Discord threw up his paw and talon, “Sheesh! So serious all the time! You could crack a joke now and then.”
“I’m so very sorry the threat the vile winter demons who promise imminent eternal death of mine and my remaining people’s bodies and souls doesn’t lighten my mood!” Lacewing snarled, now becoming fed up with the spirit’s casual attitude toward their dire plight.

Discord chuckled, “Well, sarcasm’s a teensy bit of an improvement, at least.” He cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and then his snout, which remained bent to the side when he spoke next, “But! As you’ve so kindly given me absolutely free range within the conditions of fulfillment of my contractual obligations, I’m going to make this worth it for you in gratitude for granting me the chance to be truly exercise my imagination! And since you’ve put me in such a good mood, I’ll even throw in an escape clause if perchance you foster second thoughts after a time. It will be perfectly simple if you decide to take it and leave off the whole endless revenge thing you’ve got going.”

Lacewing sneered, growing impatient with Discord’s babbling, “I need to such clauses. I want the power and I want vengeance.”

“Well, I’m leaving it in anyway. Use it or not, it’s up to you. You may surprise yourselves by how much you’ll change in time…” he winked slyly. “And not just on the outside. I’ll also try keep the unintended consequences to as much a minimum as I can, considering I’m a sucker for irony and I love manipulating hubris. Restraint isn’t a strong suit of mine, however, so you might want to brace yourselves! Now let’s get this show on the high-speed monorail to Weirdsburgh, population: Soon-to-be-you-guys!” With a guffaw he rose into the air and hovered over the mountain cleft. The constant gales instantly ceased and an eerie silence took hold while the sunset’s gleam unnaturally dimmed into surreal pale pastels. The eerie pall of Discord's otherworldly power stretched forth and was perceived by the swarm of searching windigoes who abruptly fled the mountain, for they sensed what seemed a demonic predator far greater than themselves and, as a jackal might upon the approach of a lion, felt it wise to keep their distance until the great beast's hunger was sated. A lone, terrible brightness leapt in crimson and gold flames gleaming vividly in Discord’s wild eyes as he began to intone in a voice which seemed to ooze from the everywhere around the Flutters and pierce their very bodies with its irresistible and unearthly power.

“Oh Flutter Ponies once bright and gay; glory of your equine world;
Shall you one day rue this day, when away your dainty forms you hurled?
Loveliness lost, now shall they see, what was hatching deep inside;
At once glance, all shall flee; unless in stolen lives you hide;
Of this fearful form you’ll bear, I serve simply as the guide!
Once for good, twice for ill, I bid the power, do as you will!
Let it wind and twist and tear, shape the hatred and despair!”

Lacewing heard loud whimpers behind her as Discord chanted, his eyes alight with savage delight and flashing with otherworldly fire. Whipping her head around, she beheld her small herd, many having tried to flee the frightening Spirit of Chaos before being fallen to the frigid rock clenching their teeth which in several individuals had already wrenched forward in their mouths and fused with their hardening lips into horrid, dark fangs. The colors of her subjects faded before her eyes and she beheld a glittering brightness stream from their bodies into the snow-flecked wind. Their beautiful fur was falling out, revealing a glossy black surface beneath. Sizzling sounds filled the air along with choking cries, bubbles in random places across all the bodies and limbs of the transforming Flutterponies swelled and burth, spilling frothy garishly green ooze as though acid were eating through them from within. A stab of searing pain shot through Lacewing’s chest and she crumpled with them, gasping out, “What… have you… done to us?!”

Discord barely regarded her with a smirk and darkly chuckled, "Exactly what you asked me to do", as he continued, dancing about above them as the sky warped and flickered between colors both garish and surreal.

“Sweet flowers’ nectar once did sate, fulfilling all your daily needs;
Now thy hunger shan’t abate, unless upon other’s love you feed.
The emptiness within your souls, with which you are doomed to live;
Manifest in these many holes, to close only when you can forgive.”

A haggard scream cut through the air above the moans and cries of the tortured Flutters. Lacewing had staggered back to her feet, only to throw her head back in agony as her forehead split open and a pitch-colored finger of ichor reached skyward, curving and recurving, tapering to a jagged point. Teetering, she listed to the side as her limbs cracked and stretched, growing angular and insectile while similar changes took place in all her remaining people.

Above, his own form momentarily distorting into a thing unspeakable in appearance as he delved into the utmost depths of the terrible power his fractious aspects could wield, revealing his true nature as a form without form that would drive most mortals mad if they dared stare into its existential nonbeing, Discord completed his spell.

“The lust for love will drive your thirst, a rift never to be sealed;
For unless the greatest hole you fill, never shall your heart be healed.”

The cries swiftly decreased in number and volume with these final lines, consciousness fleeing the tormented souls for a few blessed moments while their abominable benefactor completed their alterations. Save for the mournful wind again whipping through the pass, silence fell as the last echo of the demonic beast’s spell slipped from his forked tongue and finished his dire work, regaining the far more pleasing form of the chimeric assemblage of animal parts.

Nothing moved as Discord drifted downward and, unsteadily settling upon his feet, appearing momentarily weary himself, gazed upon the results his completed bargain with satisfaction as the former Flutters lay sprawled in their hideous new bodies. “I hope you appreciate the work I’ve put into you all. It’s been an unthinkably long time since I expended myself to such an extent. Weaving so deep and intricate an enchantment isn’t for the faint-hearted, you know! Oh, but yes! I’ve really outdone even myself with this! Of course, I daren’t take all the credit. Such LOATHING and MISERY inside you, along with all that bitter hopelessness! All I really had to do was give those seedlings an avenues for their own wickedness and the shape practically took itself, nothing any average devil worth his salt couldn’t do, honestly. I can’t wait to see how you put your new talents to work. THAT’S where the fun will really be! Oh, such chaos you’ll be capable of causing! Such disharmony you could sow!” He regarded Lacewing with a critical eye, peering through the creosote casement into the venomous magical fires swiftly kindling deep within the hollow of her breast. “And ohhhhhh boy! You’ll grow powerful too. Yes yes YES! You could become SOOOO fiendishly powerful if you play your cards right.” He flipped a figure-eight in the chilly air and then, spotting something, floated down wearing a beret and carrying an easel upon which he lifted a dollop of glossy tar with a paintbrush and dabbed it upon a lone spot of stubborn fur left on Lacewing’s grotesque new form while squinting this way and that. “Missed a tad… juuuuuuust… there! Finished! What a masterpiece of mayhem! Ta ta, for now dear mantis mares… hmm, preying ponies?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully before shrugging, “I’ll leave the official designation to your own imaginations. Erase those miserable winter demons at your leisure, I have no interest in them at all. Have fun and get those nasty ponies back! And above all else… “ he leaned over his surreal works of art with a savage grin, “…be sure to entertain me.”

With a snap of his lion’s paw and a brief crackling flash, Discord vanished with an echoing laugh, leaving the deformed and defiled shapes of the former Flutterponies to be hidden beneath shadows in the fading twilight.