Diamond Roseby Asphodel NocturnaChaptersPrologue: Tangles1. Visits2. Ruby StarPrologue: TanglesAuthor's Note Yes, I know what it says on the publishing date. This story was stuck in the approval queue for two whole days, so it actually published on 11/27/16. Thanks for reading, and please give this a like if it is up to your standards! Prologue: Tangles Clink. Clink. Clink. "Agh!" Deep inside the mountain where Canterlot was located, below the royal castle, a single mare chipped away at the reflective walls of her crystal-cave prison. She grasped an old, grimy steel fork between chapped, aching hooves, brow furrowed as she drove the dull tongs into the glassy, unrelenting surface. The sound of metal on crystal, echoing around the high-ceilinged cavern, was soon joined by the restless clicking and tapping of hooves on a floor. The mare paused her fruitless work to turn and glare at the disturbance: her older cellmate, a stallion in his late forties, a broken pony who was apparently senseless to the world surrounding him. He was pacing now, humming a nonsensical little tune as he trotted along like a much younger colt who didn't know better. "Will you stop that!" The mare hissed at him through gritted teeth, but her fellow prisoner seemed deaf, blind, and oblivious to her irritation. He barely blinked before returning to his humming, mumbling a string of unintelligible words between off-key melodies. "Crazy stallion," the mare muttered under her breath. She gave the crystal one more strike with the fork, and let out a long, low snarl of angry frustration as the not-intended-for-mining utensil deflected off and clattered away. She didn't bother to retrieve it; what was the point? Trying in the first place was stupid, anyway. "Stupid!" She jumped at the sound of her own furious yell, the sound bouncing loudly around the cavern before quieting to whispers and, finally, nothing. Her eyes stung, but she did not cry. She refused to cry like a little filly wailing for her mother. Mother . . . Memories stirred inside her, but the mare clamped down on them with a scowl, extinguishing the sparks as soon as they lit, refusing to let . . . something . . . get the better of her. Instead, she turned to the wall close by, where the raw but shiny crystal showed her reflection clearly. A young thestral mare in her teenage years stared back at her with cat-pupiled, eerily bright silver eyes. Her coat, once as white and pure as freshly fallen snow, was matted with dirt, dust, and sweat, and nearly a year in Canterlot's crystal dungeons hadn't helped the dull gray color. Her long, thick, wavy mane, red with little, thin black-and-silver streaks and hints of raspberry here and there, was sticking out in all directions and tangled with the same grime that was in her coat. Her pale, silver-gray batpony wings were folded at her sides, with scratches and tears marring their usually well-cared-for appearance. Once, she had been considered pretty. Beautiful, even. A sneer of contempt made its way onto her face as she glanced down at her cutie mark. It was a tangle of perfectly shaped red roses, with one blemish: a single, fang-sharp thorn sticking out of the crimson flowers. If you looked closer, you could see that the thorn was not just a thorn, but a glittering, poisonous diamond of ice blue. It had been six years since she'd gotten her cutie mark at age ten, and she still had yet to figure out the meaning of that image on her flank. Her darkened gaze drifted up to the curved, sharp white horn on her head, now fitted with an inhibitor ring to disable her magic. This was what had gotten her so much trouble, ever since fillyhood. The other residents of her former hometown, Hollow Shades, had deemed her a mistake, a disgrace to the batpony race. "This is what happens when a pony and a thestral fall in love," they'd always say, always with a snort of disgust. Then they'd look down their noses at her and sniff haughtily. "You are nothing but trouble." And they were right. All those deaths I caused . . . She opened and closed her wings a few times, as if to shake off the lingering thought. No. I can't think about it now, or else I'll go mad in here. I'll become insane, shattered, like that poor old stallion over there. She sat down with a plop, setting her rump on the center of the rock floor. A rough pebble skittered near, set into motion by the stallion whose name she didn't bother to find out, and she kicked it away with a careless hoof and another glare. There had to be something else. Something that could help her escape from this . . . this dumb hole, to keep her from slowly rotting away in here in defeat. Rage boiled and sizzled inside her. Defeat. She would never be defeated, not even by Royalty. She would not allow it to happen. I'm missing something . . . but what? She would find a way out of here. She always did, and always would. Because she was Scarlet Radiance, Equestria's most infamous convicted murderer and criminal mastermind. Also known as Ruby Wing. And she would never, never be shot down. 1. VisitsThe darkness was closing in on her. The frost crept down the walls, slowly climbing up her legs and threatening to suffocate her in its feathery coldness. The leering shadows reached out with long, thin tendrils that snaked toward her, twining around her, invisible thorns jabbing her and reopening a thousand invisible wounds. Though her eyes were squeezed shut, she could hear the whisper of the rising lake of blood, and feel the sticky, warm wetness soaking into her coat, and taste the sharp, metallic tang in the frigid air. She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight against this unknown enemy, but she was frozen in place. Slowly, slowly, the blackness opened up and swallowed her, and she sank into its silky-soft depths. Scarlet Radiance woke up to a shrill, terrified shrieking. Bolting upright, she looked around with wild eyes to find the source of the screech. She didn't have to look far. Soon enough, her throat became hoarse and started to sting quite badly, and her shout dwindled down to a scratchy cough. "Erm. Ahem, ah-er-erm." Scarlet scratched at her neck, wincing as her voice caught painfully in her throat. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of death in the dank air of her crystal cavern, a smell that she had gotten used to by now. There was nopony else down here to provide company, and that was just fine by Scarlet. Her last cellmate, the creaky, insane old stallion that she had begun to think of as Rock, had died exactly nine days ago. The crystal-cave prison guards had come by to drag away the body yesterday, after Rock had been lying dead for more than a week. Even though Scarlet had never cared for Rock, she was still angered by this blatant display of disrespect. Her ears twitched at the sound of a key being fitted into a lock. She turned to see two guards, both unicorns, opening the sturdy old door, which creaked and groaned and was as thick as a pony's head. They never brought her the only meal of the day so early. Something was up, and it certainly wasn't her release after thirteen years in prison. She had only served one so far. Armor clanking, the guards stepped into the cave, leaving the door slightly ajar behind them. Their horns lit up with magic, instantly ready to defend if Scarlet lashed out. Between the strongly built stallions was a thin, timid unicorn mare in her thirties, with a light cream coat and a graying tangerine mane. Scarlet caught sight of that familiar cutie mark, the juicy slice of orange on the mare's flank, and something sharp pierced her heart. Something that wasn't longing, or love, or any of those other mushy, softhearted emotions that she could never feel anymore. Scarlet stayed where she was, keeping her batpony wings tucked as comfortably as could be against her sides. A silver collar around her neck was attached to a long, heavy chain of some magically treated metal, which in turn connected to a huge bolt driven deep into the middle of the stone floor. It had been added a few weeks ago, after she'd attacked some prison guards with nothing but her bare hooves. The guards had been sporting several black-and-blue bruises and some ferociously bleeding gashes when she was done with them. "Scar? Is that really you?" The mare edged closer to the young prisoner, her amber gaze glistening. "Are you really my daughter?" With an odd, empty emotion that surprised even herself, Scarlet stared blankly back at the mare that she no longer thought of as her mother. "Morning Glory. A pleasure to see you," she said flatly, feeling and showing nothing but the cold unfamiliarity that she would show a stranger. She formed her face into a mask of stone, hard and sharp and impenetrable. Glory took a step back, hurt flickering clear and bright in her widened eyes as her ears pinned back. "What happened to 'mother', to my precious, radiant daughter?" she whispered in a quivering voice, tears welling up at Scarlet's hardness. "Have you forgotten how to care? To love? Don't you feel remorse, or anything at all, for what happened to your father?" "Winter Evening is not my father anymore. He deserved to be murdered," snarled Scarlet, releasing little hints of her anger. She felt nothing for this pony who claimed to be a mother, and nothing for the thestral who had died at the tip of Scarlet's own dagger. "If you knew what he did, you would be glad I killed him." She caught herself before she could say the words trust me, because she couldn't even trust her own self anymore. She watched, completely still like a mare made of ice, as Glory shut her eyes and let the teardrops leak out. Beside the older mare, the pair of guards wore no expressions, but underneath their facades, Scarlet could detect wisps of surprise. She curled her lip in contempt. Surprise that a single pony could cry for a murderer, even if that murderer was her own daughter. But Scarlet wouldn't cry for this traitor. Besides, her eyes had been leeched dry of any tears so long, long ago. When Glory opened her eyes, the once-clear, once-brilliant golden irises were clouded and darkened with sadness. "Look me in the eyes, Scar, and tell me you don't care about me. About family," she murmured, daring to get closer. She gingerly touched Scarlet's face with a hoof; her daughter tensed up at the contact. "I refuse to accept that you don't care." "Then you're a fool." Faster than a lightning snake, Scarlet lunged forward and jabbed Glory in the chest. Hard. She imagined that her silver gaze, narrowed to slits of ice and fire, was burning a hole through this mare. A stranger, nopony important. Certainly not a pony she cared about. She suddenly realized that, when a normal pony would have been screaming in rage, she was calm. Unnervingly calm, in fact, even to her. "You don't know a single thing about what I went through," Scarlet hissed, leaning close to glare directly into Glory's face. "You don't know what it felt like to be a killer, and you will never understand. I know you, Morning Glory. You will just go on living your life, pretending that I never existed, that you didn't have this mistake for a foal." She spat out the words as if they were laced with poison. "Against my better judgment, I would never wish death on you. But if you think that I hold any affection for you, then you will be sorely disappointed." She smiled coldly, just enough so that the trembling mare in front of her could see the short, sharp, gleaming thestral fangs, and turned away. Wordlessly, the guards began to escort a wilting Glory from the cavern. "She's a monster!" The scream echoed, hitching on the last word. Monster. Scarlet had heard it countless times. It was a perfect, precise description of her. So why did it hurt now, coming from the mouth of a mare who had abandoned her? "Fine," Scarlet replied, her back to Glory. "I am." The following silence was split only by the sobs of a shattered mother. "And that will never change," Scarlet whispered. "No matter what you wish for, I am nothing but a monster." Once she was outside, standing in a tranquil park a fair distance away from the Canterlot Castle gates, Morning Glory fell against a tree and broke down in tears. Her shoulders shook with silent wails, and she slowly crumpled to the lush grass, folding like fragile paper. She couldn't stop the rain of tears from falling, and she didn't care if anypony saw her. There was an aching hole in her chest, and it wasn't from Scarlet's strike. "Ma'am? Ma'am, are you all right?" The kind, gentle-sounding voice curbed Glory's crying. Hiccuping, she looked up to see a younger earth pony—twenty-one years old, perhaps—standing close by, a concerned look on her face. The mare wore a crisp white doctor's coat with a gilded pin on one lapel; pristine silver letters spelled out DR. FLORA FELICITY, PHD. Underneath the name were the words LICENSED PSYCHOLOGIST. That pale pink coat, the raspberry-and-white mane, this cutie mark of a flower with caring hearts for petals . . . Recognition quickly dawned on Glory, and she gaped up at the doctor with her mouth hanging open. This was Flora Felicity, early graduate of the prestigious Hayvard University, the youngest pony in the history of Equestrian medicine to ever receive a PhD. And a female earth pony, no less. But no, this was not the reason for Glory's knowledge of the famous mare. "Flora!" she exclaimed in shock, the tears subsiding in her astonishment. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in such a long time!" The unicorn's expression was mirrored on Flora Felicity's face. "Morning Glory! I did not expect to see my favorite sister here." Her surprise dissolved into a pleasant smile, and she stepped forward to give her older sibling a warm hug—exactly what Glory needed right now. "I'm your only sister," Glory laughed, her grief momentarily forgotten in the happy reunion as she leaned into Felicity's embrace. "That does not matter; you are still my favorite sister, and you always will be." In the blink of an eye, the delighted young family member disappeared, and in her place was the ever-so-professional Dr. Felicity, world-renowned psychologist. She smoothed out the long white coat, primly brushing off a few specks of dust. "I am, in fact, en route to the castle to give my dear niece a check-up. I heard about her . . . situation several weeks ago." Seeing Glory's expression, she added, "Glory? Is something wrong?" "Yes!" Glory's sob was torn out of her as she threw herself into her sister's hooves once more. Felicity stumbled back in surprise, but she let Glory cling to her and cry into her fine uniform. "Scar-Scarlet—sh-she hates me, F-Flora! Do y-you know wh-what she said t-t-to me?" "Glory! Shhh, shh, everything's okay," Felicity whispered soothingly, lightly patting Glory's back. "Glory. Glory, listen to me. I'll go and talk to Scarlet, all right? We'll sort this out; I'm sure she didn't mean it. Everything is going to be fine, do you hear me?" The only evidence that Glory had heard her was a quivering nod, before Felicity pulled away. "Sharp Blue!" she called out, looking around. "Sharp, where have you gotten off to this time?" "Here, Dr. Felicity." Some nearby bushes rustled, and a young stallion trotted out, shaking leaves from his light blue coat and darker blue mane. Glory's eyes, the ones that had seen too much grief and heartache, barely caught his presence before they glazed over, unfocusing. "Glory, this is Sharp Blue, my new intern," Felicity introduced. "Sharp, meet my sister, Morning Glory. Would you be kind enough to escort her back to the train station? She will be boarding the next train to Manehattan. You can trust him, Glory. Hail a carriage to take you from the city station to my apartment right away; I will return home either tonight or tomorrow morning. Understood?" "Yes, ma'am!" said Sharp Blue. He gave the doctor a cheeky salute, but Felicity knew that seriousness and trustworthiness lay beneath the cocksure smile. Glory just nodded, looking numb, and allowed Sharp to guide her away. Satisfied with their departure, Flora Felicity continued on to Canterlot Castle. It was time to meet with her criminal niece, the murderer that Felicity would only ever think of as her beloved little filly and perfected creation. She had a mission to do here, and she was going to accomplish it today. ". . . And good morning to you. I'm Dr. Flora Felicity, here to see Scarlet Radiance. My niece." As she stood there, staring up at the prison guards, Felicity wondered if her calm words had gotten into their ears at all. The two hulking, full-armored stallions just looked back at her with those blank, stoic expressions that every guard seemed to wear. "Do you have an official pass?" one guard said finally, leaning forward with the clanks of shifting armor. As if she would be here without it! Felicity flashed the gleaming gold-and-silver badge around her neck—a royal castle pass, signed by Princess Celestia's aide—at the unicorns. "Now, if you would let me see her? Without any further delay?" I don't need your permission . . . or anypony else's . . . to speak to Scarlet Radiance. I have my ways. "Very well." The second guard levitated a huge black key from some hidden pocket and inserted it into the enchanted lock on the door. Magical orange runes in the dark metal flared briefly before dimming and allowing the door to be opened. Felicity's breath caught in her throat at the sight of her niece. Scarlet Radiance was no longer the innocent little thestral-unicorn she knew and loved. The young mare looked like she hadn't washed herself in months (which was actually true), and her wings hung limply at her ungroomed sides. But the most heart-twisting thing was the look on her face. It was one of fury, frigid and calm but simmering uncontrolled. The doctor swallowed her rising apprehension and attempted a smile that didn't hold up. "Hello, Scarlet." The formerly white prisoner turned her head and leveled Felicity with a lethal glare. "What do you want?" she growled in a low, dangerous voice. Felicity's ears flicked back, but she quickly straightened them again. She couldn't find her niece in this coldblooded killer in front of her. Not anymore. "I don't need your 'psychological treatment'," Scarlet snapped, turning away. "I want everypony to leave me alone." There was an almost visible bite in her words. "I'm not leaving." Felicity was surprised to find that her answer was steady and resolute. "And I'm not here to 'treat' you." "Then why did you come?" demanded Scarlet. Though she wasn't facing her aunt, one of her ears was swiveled toward Felicity. She was listening. Felicity's next words stopped her dead. "I can get you out of here." 2. Ruby StarThis time, Scarlet turned around to give Felicity her full attention. "Excuse me?" Felicity smiled—a real, wide smile, with a glint of mischief in her eye—and sat down, ignoring the dirt that instantly marred the whiteness of her coat. "If you don't want to stay cooped up in here for the next twelve years, then you'll help me," she said simply. "And in turn, I will help you escape. If that is what you wish, of course." "Of course," Scarlet repeated, but her gaze was wary as she looked sideways at her aunt. "What do you want from me? I have nothing left to give . . . nor anypony who cares about me anymore." Bitterness edged her voice, almost unnoticeable but still there. "Oh, I think you'll find that you have plenty to give," Felicity replied. "You have a rare talent, my niece, don't you know? Just take a look at your cutie mark." Scarlet did just that, frowning quizzically at the thorny red roses on her flank. "I don't know what it means. I was a florist, after all; I always assumed that my mark had something to do with it," she explained, but her mind was already elsewhere. Bright blood dripping onto ruffled white carnations, spreading rapidly on the snowy petals and staining them vermilion. A beautiful vase of pink glass shattering on the floor, a wayward shard cutting deep into her flesh and drawing out pain that she did not feel. Rubies and sterling silver flashing as the dagger flew through the air, slicing through flower stems and aiming straight for the heart . . . "Precisely," Felicity said, her voice breaking through Scarlet's flow of horror-filled thoughts and memories. For a moment, Scarlet was terrified, thinking that her aunt had just read her mind. "Floristry is, in a way, just like killing," Felicity continued. Scarlet choked on her sigh of relief. She jerked her head up to stare, wide-eyed, at the doctor. "My talent isn't killing!" she retorted quite loudly, the hot air rushing back in full force. "And how are flowers like—like murder, anyway?" A trace of amusement whisked across Felicity's face but vanished quickly. "Scarlet, Scarlet," she said in a soft, indulgent voice that almost sounded sympathetic. The light pink mare rose to her hooves and began to slowly circle her niece. "Of course your talent is to kill. Don't you remember when you got your cutie mark? I was there, too." "Don't patronize me," Scarlet snapped. "I don't remember." She was lying. She did remember. She remembered every second of that day, and so vividly, too. But at the same time, she was scared to remember. And the most frightening thing of all about that moment of truth? She'd enjoyed it. She'd liked murdering Cobalt Flash, the colt who bullied her at Hollow Shades Elementary. She was only ten years old at the time. "Of course you do," Felicity said briskly, stopping to stand in front of Scarlet. "You have to face it, Scar: you are a killer, and that is all you will ever be to everypony. Which brings us to your task. Once you accept it, the deal is sealed. You can't go back on your words. Do you accept?" "Yes." Scarlet didn't meet her aunt's eyes. "I want you to kill a royal guard for me," Felicity stated calmly. "A lieutenant by the name of Steel Point. Twenty-eight years old, and a well-respected stallion in the Guard. This is what he looks like." She produced a picture from a coat pocket and hoofed it over to Scarlet. Oh, you poor stallion. What quarrel do you have with Flora Felicity? Scarlet gazed down at the small square photo. The portrait featured a gray pegasus stallion with dashing blue eyes, a windswept black mane with bold yellow stripes, and a strong-looking build. He was fairly handsome. Steel Point. That was his name. A streak of stormcloud gray and midnight black and lightning yellow, diving for her through the pouring rain, a crossbow nocked and ready to fire . . . Anger flashed through her, hot and cold both at once. Now, she looked Felicity in the eye. "Okay." "There." The neck shackle relented to the tiny golden key that Felicity somehow wielded and fell to the floor with a clank. As her aunt got to work on the magic inhibitor, Scarlet flexed her sore, stiff legs and examined herself for any injuries that could potentially hinder her work. Did she miss it? That was the one question she couldn't answer. "Careful now," Felicity advised, pulling the key away. "The magic will come rushing back all at once. It'll be especially painful, now that you've worn this for more than a year already." "I do not need to be reminded—ah!" Scarlet gave a hiss of pain as the device on her horn fell away with a clatter. Bright, hot agony rushed to her head, along with all of the magic that had been lying dormant for such a long time. She felt the energy build at the tip of her horn and clenched her jaw, struggling to contain the blast. Casually, the doctor reached over and placed her hoof right at the sharp point of the curved horn. Another burst of pain assaulted Scarlet, and she glared up at her aunt, but gradually, the fiery throbbing resided. "Thanks . . . I guess," she mumbled, before turning away to thoroughly inspect her wings. They suddenly felt so much heavier and ached so much more than she was used to. "Come on. We have to get out of here, now." Felicity helped Scarlet to her hooves and briskly trotted to the door, peering through the tiny peephole. "Eliminate the guards. Quietly." Wordlessly, Scarlet grinned for the first time in months. A bright, single flare of silver magic shattered the thick wood to splinters; the guards outside jumped away with their spears up, but not fast enough. A quick spell left them both on the floor, sound asleep with only the faintest of pulses. "They won't be waking up from their comas for a while," Scarlet promised. She snatched up one of the twisted spears and examined the deadly point. "Hmm, I think I'll keep this." A spark from her horn transformed the weapon into a little charm on a cord around her neck, ready to be turned back if she needed it. "Interesting," mused Felicity. Scarlet twitched an ear toward her to listen as they walked through the dark, narrow tunnel, which sloped upward the further they went. "One year ago, you would have killed those stallions without a second thought. You've changed, Scarlet." Changed? Scarlet flattened her ears, feeling strangely embarrassed. Was Felicity right? Would she have been merciless on the guards before all of this? She said nothing until something metal and sharp clanged to the ground by her hoof, creating a long, shallow cut in her fetlock. "H-Hey, what gives?" she demanded, glowering at her aunt. Crimson blood was starting to well up, and she wiped it away with an irritated scowl. Felicity only nodded at the object that lay on the stone, prompting Scarlet to pick it up. Scarlet's magic encircled it, and upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn't merely a hunk of metal. It wasn't just any knife. It was the Ruby Star. Her personal weapon. The hilt, carved from midnight obsidian, was set with a twisted column of embedded red gems and a lunging, fanged, ruby-eyed snake that wound around it, finished off with a single large ruby as the pommel. The crossguard had been carefully cut and etched to look like a pair of wings, shaped like a thestral's but covered with feathers like that of a pegasus. The polished blade itself was made of very rare diamond silver, forged in the volcano of Mount Flameheart in the dragon land, and heavily enchanted to slice through any material with ease. To top it all off, the dagger—its default form—would convert into any other weapon imaginable at a single command. The clang of the Star hitting the ground was the only sound that broke the sudden silence. "You!" A wave of impulsive, irrational fury swept through Scarlet, and she lashed out viciously, pinning Felicity against the wall of the passageway with a thump. "Why do you have this? I swore that I would never wield it again!" "Yes, you did," Felicity replied, unfazed. She met her niece's blazing glare evenly. "And now, for the sake of the Diamond Rose, you will have to revoke your oath." Scarlet's eyes went wide. She released Felicity, gazing down at the Ruby Star as if the force of her stare could burn it to ashes. "Fine," she growled. The Star flashed silver and vanished, reappearing as a tiny pendant on her thin rope necklace, clinking against the small spear that was already there. "But only for the Rose." Scarlet gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain in her chest that intensified as they neared the end of the tunnel. The Ruby Star around her neck was searing her, forcing her to feel a pain that was supposed to have receded so long ago. Curse this bewitched thing. Daybreak! Why did it have to find its way back to me? Why couldn't you just keep it, or destroy it, or anything! She hissed, sparks flickering around her horn. Let me go. LET ME GO! "Scarlet. Scarlet!" Felicity's shout jolted Scarlet back to the conscious world like a zap of lightning. The pink mare pointed to the diamond-reinforced metal door in front of them. "We're here." Scarlet smiled, yanking herself away from the thoughts of Diamond and her Fang and the Ruby Star. "Finally." She gathered magic in her horn, preparing for an onslaught to free herself from this hole. Felicity paused, frowned . . . and gasped. "No! Scarlet—wait—" Too late. The doctor heard Scarlet's screech of surprise as her magic beam slammed into the door and was deflected back at her, barely creating even a dent in the enchanted metal. The bat-unicorn was blasted a good twenty meters back, stopping only when she slammed into the rough wall at a bend in the passage. Felicity hurried over as her niece slid to the floor. "Scarlet, you headstrong filly . . ." Felicity sighed, reaching forward. "Are you all right?" "Hah . . . haha, hah . . . ha ha ha . . . Just . . . dandy," Scarlet giggled in a demented way that made Felicity want to facehoof. "Right . . . as rain, haha! Speaking of . . . it's raining . . ." Felicity groaned loudly. "Fine. I'm sorry," she said, and slapped her niece across the face, hard. A pale gray hoof shot up and grabbed hers, clenching tightly. Scarlet, now clearheaded, stared up at her with killing intent in her draconic eyes. Felicity smiled sweetly and extracted her hoof from Scarlet's grasp. "We only have so much time before the Royal Guard notices something's amiss and comes to investigate," she said patiently, walking back up the tunnel. After some ungraceful scrabbling, Scarlet scrambled to her hooves and followed her. "I tried to tell you, trying to destroy the door like that won't work." "Then what will?" By Tartarus, I hate being helpless . . . "Use the Ruby Star." Scarlet whipped her head toward Felicity, who kept walking without turning around. Argh, it would be so nice to have an enemy close by right now . . . or a dungeon full of enemies . . . I swore! I swore on the Diamond Crown, and even that wasn't enough! But . . . She looked grimly, almost murderously, down at the Star dangling from her necklace. If using it means my freedom, and if my freedom will help the Rose . . . Then, of course. It was never my choice to make, was it? Very well. She lifted the charm from the cord, enlarged the Star to its original size, and stared at it for what seemed like eternity. Welcome back, old friend. She uttered two heavy words that she'd said so many times but never thought she'd say again, a name that still brought so much pain flooding back: "Diamond Daybreak." In front of her, Flora Felicity froze. An emotion that she couldn't comprehend stabbed at her heart and brought pearly tears to her eyes. She quickly wiped them away before Scarlet could see. "Et vicissim excitet," Scarlet continued. "Diamond corona per ordinem!" As soon as she finished the incantation, the Ruby Star started to glow with a silver light so bright that Felicity had to avert her eyes. Not Scarlet, however; she stared into the blinding luminescence, her eyes fixed on the Star as its ruby pommel began to blaze brilliant red. "Matutinus. Diluculum." It became a six-bladed throwing star, morphed into a crescent moon glaive, and reverted back into a dagger, until it settled on a different shape, a disc with deadly edges designed to slice through solid diamond like paper. The disc spun faster and faster, drawing white-hot energy from Scarlet's horn, and smashed into the door with the force of a million suns and moons behind it. "Perdere!" Destroy. The door was gone, reduced to a pile of gray ashes. "Subtle," Felicity remarked, peering at the dust. "Very subtle. Nice work, though." Scarlet just looked back at her, the Star levitated behind her, and turned away from her aunt. The lethal weapon became a pendant on her necklace once more. "I did as I promised. I set you free," Felicity said. A breeze blew forth, rippling through their coats and lifting their manes to ride the air. "Now you must keep your end of the bargain." It was suddenly cold. So very cold. "Kill him, Scarlet. You were born to. That's why you wear the Diamond Crown, isn't it? That's why Daybreak entrusted the rule of her Diamond Rose Clan to you. That's why . . . that's why the Ruby Star belongs to you." Finally, Scarlet turned. Her eyes, filled with frost, flashed. A malevolent smile found its way onto her lips. "Kill him."
Prologue: TanglesAuthor's Note Yes, I know what it says on the publishing date. This story was stuck in the approval queue for two whole days, so it actually published on 11/27/16. Thanks for reading, and please give this a like if it is up to your standards! Prologue: Tangles Clink. Clink. Clink. "Agh!" Deep inside the mountain where Canterlot was located, below the royal castle, a single mare chipped away at the reflective walls of her crystal-cave prison. She grasped an old, grimy steel fork between chapped, aching hooves, brow furrowed as she drove the dull tongs into the glassy, unrelenting surface. The sound of metal on crystal, echoing around the high-ceilinged cavern, was soon joined by the restless clicking and tapping of hooves on a floor. The mare paused her fruitless work to turn and glare at the disturbance: her older cellmate, a stallion in his late forties, a broken pony who was apparently senseless to the world surrounding him. He was pacing now, humming a nonsensical little tune as he trotted along like a much younger colt who didn't know better. "Will you stop that!" The mare hissed at him through gritted teeth, but her fellow prisoner seemed deaf, blind, and oblivious to her irritation. He barely blinked before returning to his humming, mumbling a string of unintelligible words between off-key melodies. "Crazy stallion," the mare muttered under her breath. She gave the crystal one more strike with the fork, and let out a long, low snarl of angry frustration as the not-intended-for-mining utensil deflected off and clattered away. She didn't bother to retrieve it; what was the point? Trying in the first place was stupid, anyway. "Stupid!" She jumped at the sound of her own furious yell, the sound bouncing loudly around the cavern before quieting to whispers and, finally, nothing. Her eyes stung, but she did not cry. She refused to cry like a little filly wailing for her mother. Mother . . . Memories stirred inside her, but the mare clamped down on them with a scowl, extinguishing the sparks as soon as they lit, refusing to let . . . something . . . get the better of her. Instead, she turned to the wall close by, where the raw but shiny crystal showed her reflection clearly. A young thestral mare in her teenage years stared back at her with cat-pupiled, eerily bright silver eyes. Her coat, once as white and pure as freshly fallen snow, was matted with dirt, dust, and sweat, and nearly a year in Canterlot's crystal dungeons hadn't helped the dull gray color. Her long, thick, wavy mane, red with little, thin black-and-silver streaks and hints of raspberry here and there, was sticking out in all directions and tangled with the same grime that was in her coat. Her pale, silver-gray batpony wings were folded at her sides, with scratches and tears marring their usually well-cared-for appearance. Once, she had been considered pretty. Beautiful, even. A sneer of contempt made its way onto her face as she glanced down at her cutie mark. It was a tangle of perfectly shaped red roses, with one blemish: a single, fang-sharp thorn sticking out of the crimson flowers. If you looked closer, you could see that the thorn was not just a thorn, but a glittering, poisonous diamond of ice blue. It had been six years since she'd gotten her cutie mark at age ten, and she still had yet to figure out the meaning of that image on her flank. Her darkened gaze drifted up to the curved, sharp white horn on her head, now fitted with an inhibitor ring to disable her magic. This was what had gotten her so much trouble, ever since fillyhood. The other residents of her former hometown, Hollow Shades, had deemed her a mistake, a disgrace to the batpony race. "This is what happens when a pony and a thestral fall in love," they'd always say, always with a snort of disgust. Then they'd look down their noses at her and sniff haughtily. "You are nothing but trouble." And they were right. All those deaths I caused . . . She opened and closed her wings a few times, as if to shake off the lingering thought. No. I can't think about it now, or else I'll go mad in here. I'll become insane, shattered, like that poor old stallion over there. She sat down with a plop, setting her rump on the center of the rock floor. A rough pebble skittered near, set into motion by the stallion whose name she didn't bother to find out, and she kicked it away with a careless hoof and another glare. There had to be something else. Something that could help her escape from this . . . this dumb hole, to keep her from slowly rotting away in here in defeat. Rage boiled and sizzled inside her. Defeat. She would never be defeated, not even by Royalty. She would not allow it to happen. I'm missing something . . . but what? She would find a way out of here. She always did, and always would. Because she was Scarlet Radiance, Equestria's most infamous convicted murderer and criminal mastermind. Also known as Ruby Wing. And she would never, never be shot down.
1. VisitsThe darkness was closing in on her. The frost crept down the walls, slowly climbing up her legs and threatening to suffocate her in its feathery coldness. The leering shadows reached out with long, thin tendrils that snaked toward her, twining around her, invisible thorns jabbing her and reopening a thousand invisible wounds. Though her eyes were squeezed shut, she could hear the whisper of the rising lake of blood, and feel the sticky, warm wetness soaking into her coat, and taste the sharp, metallic tang in the frigid air. She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight against this unknown enemy, but she was frozen in place. Slowly, slowly, the blackness opened up and swallowed her, and she sank into its silky-soft depths. Scarlet Radiance woke up to a shrill, terrified shrieking. Bolting upright, she looked around with wild eyes to find the source of the screech. She didn't have to look far. Soon enough, her throat became hoarse and started to sting quite badly, and her shout dwindled down to a scratchy cough. "Erm. Ahem, ah-er-erm." Scarlet scratched at her neck, wincing as her voice caught painfully in her throat. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of death in the dank air of her crystal cavern, a smell that she had gotten used to by now. There was nopony else down here to provide company, and that was just fine by Scarlet. Her last cellmate, the creaky, insane old stallion that she had begun to think of as Rock, had died exactly nine days ago. The crystal-cave prison guards had come by to drag away the body yesterday, after Rock had been lying dead for more than a week. Even though Scarlet had never cared for Rock, she was still angered by this blatant display of disrespect. Her ears twitched at the sound of a key being fitted into a lock. She turned to see two guards, both unicorns, opening the sturdy old door, which creaked and groaned and was as thick as a pony's head. They never brought her the only meal of the day so early. Something was up, and it certainly wasn't her release after thirteen years in prison. She had only served one so far. Armor clanking, the guards stepped into the cave, leaving the door slightly ajar behind them. Their horns lit up with magic, instantly ready to defend if Scarlet lashed out. Between the strongly built stallions was a thin, timid unicorn mare in her thirties, with a light cream coat and a graying tangerine mane. Scarlet caught sight of that familiar cutie mark, the juicy slice of orange on the mare's flank, and something sharp pierced her heart. Something that wasn't longing, or love, or any of those other mushy, softhearted emotions that she could never feel anymore. Scarlet stayed where she was, keeping her batpony wings tucked as comfortably as could be against her sides. A silver collar around her neck was attached to a long, heavy chain of some magically treated metal, which in turn connected to a huge bolt driven deep into the middle of the stone floor. It had been added a few weeks ago, after she'd attacked some prison guards with nothing but her bare hooves. The guards had been sporting several black-and-blue bruises and some ferociously bleeding gashes when she was done with them. "Scar? Is that really you?" The mare edged closer to the young prisoner, her amber gaze glistening. "Are you really my daughter?" With an odd, empty emotion that surprised even herself, Scarlet stared blankly back at the mare that she no longer thought of as her mother. "Morning Glory. A pleasure to see you," she said flatly, feeling and showing nothing but the cold unfamiliarity that she would show a stranger. She formed her face into a mask of stone, hard and sharp and impenetrable. Glory took a step back, hurt flickering clear and bright in her widened eyes as her ears pinned back. "What happened to 'mother', to my precious, radiant daughter?" she whispered in a quivering voice, tears welling up at Scarlet's hardness. "Have you forgotten how to care? To love? Don't you feel remorse, or anything at all, for what happened to your father?" "Winter Evening is not my father anymore. He deserved to be murdered," snarled Scarlet, releasing little hints of her anger. She felt nothing for this pony who claimed to be a mother, and nothing for the thestral who had died at the tip of Scarlet's own dagger. "If you knew what he did, you would be glad I killed him." She caught herself before she could say the words trust me, because she couldn't even trust her own self anymore. She watched, completely still like a mare made of ice, as Glory shut her eyes and let the teardrops leak out. Beside the older mare, the pair of guards wore no expressions, but underneath their facades, Scarlet could detect wisps of surprise. She curled her lip in contempt. Surprise that a single pony could cry for a murderer, even if that murderer was her own daughter. But Scarlet wouldn't cry for this traitor. Besides, her eyes had been leeched dry of any tears so long, long ago. When Glory opened her eyes, the once-clear, once-brilliant golden irises were clouded and darkened with sadness. "Look me in the eyes, Scar, and tell me you don't care about me. About family," she murmured, daring to get closer. She gingerly touched Scarlet's face with a hoof; her daughter tensed up at the contact. "I refuse to accept that you don't care." "Then you're a fool." Faster than a lightning snake, Scarlet lunged forward and jabbed Glory in the chest. Hard. She imagined that her silver gaze, narrowed to slits of ice and fire, was burning a hole through this mare. A stranger, nopony important. Certainly not a pony she cared about. She suddenly realized that, when a normal pony would have been screaming in rage, she was calm. Unnervingly calm, in fact, even to her. "You don't know a single thing about what I went through," Scarlet hissed, leaning close to glare directly into Glory's face. "You don't know what it felt like to be a killer, and you will never understand. I know you, Morning Glory. You will just go on living your life, pretending that I never existed, that you didn't have this mistake for a foal." She spat out the words as if they were laced with poison. "Against my better judgment, I would never wish death on you. But if you think that I hold any affection for you, then you will be sorely disappointed." She smiled coldly, just enough so that the trembling mare in front of her could see the short, sharp, gleaming thestral fangs, and turned away. Wordlessly, the guards began to escort a wilting Glory from the cavern. "She's a monster!" The scream echoed, hitching on the last word. Monster. Scarlet had heard it countless times. It was a perfect, precise description of her. So why did it hurt now, coming from the mouth of a mare who had abandoned her? "Fine," Scarlet replied, her back to Glory. "I am." The following silence was split only by the sobs of a shattered mother. "And that will never change," Scarlet whispered. "No matter what you wish for, I am nothing but a monster." Once she was outside, standing in a tranquil park a fair distance away from the Canterlot Castle gates, Morning Glory fell against a tree and broke down in tears. Her shoulders shook with silent wails, and she slowly crumpled to the lush grass, folding like fragile paper. She couldn't stop the rain of tears from falling, and she didn't care if anypony saw her. There was an aching hole in her chest, and it wasn't from Scarlet's strike. "Ma'am? Ma'am, are you all right?" The kind, gentle-sounding voice curbed Glory's crying. Hiccuping, she looked up to see a younger earth pony—twenty-one years old, perhaps—standing close by, a concerned look on her face. The mare wore a crisp white doctor's coat with a gilded pin on one lapel; pristine silver letters spelled out DR. FLORA FELICITY, PHD. Underneath the name were the words LICENSED PSYCHOLOGIST. That pale pink coat, the raspberry-and-white mane, this cutie mark of a flower with caring hearts for petals . . . Recognition quickly dawned on Glory, and she gaped up at the doctor with her mouth hanging open. This was Flora Felicity, early graduate of the prestigious Hayvard University, the youngest pony in the history of Equestrian medicine to ever receive a PhD. And a female earth pony, no less. But no, this was not the reason for Glory's knowledge of the famous mare. "Flora!" she exclaimed in shock, the tears subsiding in her astonishment. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in such a long time!" The unicorn's expression was mirrored on Flora Felicity's face. "Morning Glory! I did not expect to see my favorite sister here." Her surprise dissolved into a pleasant smile, and she stepped forward to give her older sibling a warm hug—exactly what Glory needed right now. "I'm your only sister," Glory laughed, her grief momentarily forgotten in the happy reunion as she leaned into Felicity's embrace. "That does not matter; you are still my favorite sister, and you always will be." In the blink of an eye, the delighted young family member disappeared, and in her place was the ever-so-professional Dr. Felicity, world-renowned psychologist. She smoothed out the long white coat, primly brushing off a few specks of dust. "I am, in fact, en route to the castle to give my dear niece a check-up. I heard about her . . . situation several weeks ago." Seeing Glory's expression, she added, "Glory? Is something wrong?" "Yes!" Glory's sob was torn out of her as she threw herself into her sister's hooves once more. Felicity stumbled back in surprise, but she let Glory cling to her and cry into her fine uniform. "Scar-Scarlet—sh-she hates me, F-Flora! Do y-you know wh-what she said t-t-to me?" "Glory! Shhh, shh, everything's okay," Felicity whispered soothingly, lightly patting Glory's back. "Glory. Glory, listen to me. I'll go and talk to Scarlet, all right? We'll sort this out; I'm sure she didn't mean it. Everything is going to be fine, do you hear me?" The only evidence that Glory had heard her was a quivering nod, before Felicity pulled away. "Sharp Blue!" she called out, looking around. "Sharp, where have you gotten off to this time?" "Here, Dr. Felicity." Some nearby bushes rustled, and a young stallion trotted out, shaking leaves from his light blue coat and darker blue mane. Glory's eyes, the ones that had seen too much grief and heartache, barely caught his presence before they glazed over, unfocusing. "Glory, this is Sharp Blue, my new intern," Felicity introduced. "Sharp, meet my sister, Morning Glory. Would you be kind enough to escort her back to the train station? She will be boarding the next train to Manehattan. You can trust him, Glory. Hail a carriage to take you from the city station to my apartment right away; I will return home either tonight or tomorrow morning. Understood?" "Yes, ma'am!" said Sharp Blue. He gave the doctor a cheeky salute, but Felicity knew that seriousness and trustworthiness lay beneath the cocksure smile. Glory just nodded, looking numb, and allowed Sharp to guide her away. Satisfied with their departure, Flora Felicity continued on to Canterlot Castle. It was time to meet with her criminal niece, the murderer that Felicity would only ever think of as her beloved little filly and perfected creation. She had a mission to do here, and she was going to accomplish it today. ". . . And good morning to you. I'm Dr. Flora Felicity, here to see Scarlet Radiance. My niece." As she stood there, staring up at the prison guards, Felicity wondered if her calm words had gotten into their ears at all. The two hulking, full-armored stallions just looked back at her with those blank, stoic expressions that every guard seemed to wear. "Do you have an official pass?" one guard said finally, leaning forward with the clanks of shifting armor. As if she would be here without it! Felicity flashed the gleaming gold-and-silver badge around her neck—a royal castle pass, signed by Princess Celestia's aide—at the unicorns. "Now, if you would let me see her? Without any further delay?" I don't need your permission . . . or anypony else's . . . to speak to Scarlet Radiance. I have my ways. "Very well." The second guard levitated a huge black key from some hidden pocket and inserted it into the enchanted lock on the door. Magical orange runes in the dark metal flared briefly before dimming and allowing the door to be opened. Felicity's breath caught in her throat at the sight of her niece. Scarlet Radiance was no longer the innocent little thestral-unicorn she knew and loved. The young mare looked like she hadn't washed herself in months (which was actually true), and her wings hung limply at her ungroomed sides. But the most heart-twisting thing was the look on her face. It was one of fury, frigid and calm but simmering uncontrolled. The doctor swallowed her rising apprehension and attempted a smile that didn't hold up. "Hello, Scarlet." The formerly white prisoner turned her head and leveled Felicity with a lethal glare. "What do you want?" she growled in a low, dangerous voice. Felicity's ears flicked back, but she quickly straightened them again. She couldn't find her niece in this coldblooded killer in front of her. Not anymore. "I don't need your 'psychological treatment'," Scarlet snapped, turning away. "I want everypony to leave me alone." There was an almost visible bite in her words. "I'm not leaving." Felicity was surprised to find that her answer was steady and resolute. "And I'm not here to 'treat' you." "Then why did you come?" demanded Scarlet. Though she wasn't facing her aunt, one of her ears was swiveled toward Felicity. She was listening. Felicity's next words stopped her dead. "I can get you out of here."
2. Ruby StarThis time, Scarlet turned around to give Felicity her full attention. "Excuse me?" Felicity smiled—a real, wide smile, with a glint of mischief in her eye—and sat down, ignoring the dirt that instantly marred the whiteness of her coat. "If you don't want to stay cooped up in here for the next twelve years, then you'll help me," she said simply. "And in turn, I will help you escape. If that is what you wish, of course." "Of course," Scarlet repeated, but her gaze was wary as she looked sideways at her aunt. "What do you want from me? I have nothing left to give . . . nor anypony who cares about me anymore." Bitterness edged her voice, almost unnoticeable but still there. "Oh, I think you'll find that you have plenty to give," Felicity replied. "You have a rare talent, my niece, don't you know? Just take a look at your cutie mark." Scarlet did just that, frowning quizzically at the thorny red roses on her flank. "I don't know what it means. I was a florist, after all; I always assumed that my mark had something to do with it," she explained, but her mind was already elsewhere. Bright blood dripping onto ruffled white carnations, spreading rapidly on the snowy petals and staining them vermilion. A beautiful vase of pink glass shattering on the floor, a wayward shard cutting deep into her flesh and drawing out pain that she did not feel. Rubies and sterling silver flashing as the dagger flew through the air, slicing through flower stems and aiming straight for the heart . . . "Precisely," Felicity said, her voice breaking through Scarlet's flow of horror-filled thoughts and memories. For a moment, Scarlet was terrified, thinking that her aunt had just read her mind. "Floristry is, in a way, just like killing," Felicity continued. Scarlet choked on her sigh of relief. She jerked her head up to stare, wide-eyed, at the doctor. "My talent isn't killing!" she retorted quite loudly, the hot air rushing back in full force. "And how are flowers like—like murder, anyway?" A trace of amusement whisked across Felicity's face but vanished quickly. "Scarlet, Scarlet," she said in a soft, indulgent voice that almost sounded sympathetic. The light pink mare rose to her hooves and began to slowly circle her niece. "Of course your talent is to kill. Don't you remember when you got your cutie mark? I was there, too." "Don't patronize me," Scarlet snapped. "I don't remember." She was lying. She did remember. She remembered every second of that day, and so vividly, too. But at the same time, she was scared to remember. And the most frightening thing of all about that moment of truth? She'd enjoyed it. She'd liked murdering Cobalt Flash, the colt who bullied her at Hollow Shades Elementary. She was only ten years old at the time. "Of course you do," Felicity said briskly, stopping to stand in front of Scarlet. "You have to face it, Scar: you are a killer, and that is all you will ever be to everypony. Which brings us to your task. Once you accept it, the deal is sealed. You can't go back on your words. Do you accept?" "Yes." Scarlet didn't meet her aunt's eyes. "I want you to kill a royal guard for me," Felicity stated calmly. "A lieutenant by the name of Steel Point. Twenty-eight years old, and a well-respected stallion in the Guard. This is what he looks like." She produced a picture from a coat pocket and hoofed it over to Scarlet. Oh, you poor stallion. What quarrel do you have with Flora Felicity? Scarlet gazed down at the small square photo. The portrait featured a gray pegasus stallion with dashing blue eyes, a windswept black mane with bold yellow stripes, and a strong-looking build. He was fairly handsome. Steel Point. That was his name. A streak of stormcloud gray and midnight black and lightning yellow, diving for her through the pouring rain, a crossbow nocked and ready to fire . . . Anger flashed through her, hot and cold both at once. Now, she looked Felicity in the eye. "Okay." "There." The neck shackle relented to the tiny golden key that Felicity somehow wielded and fell to the floor with a clank. As her aunt got to work on the magic inhibitor, Scarlet flexed her sore, stiff legs and examined herself for any injuries that could potentially hinder her work. Did she miss it? That was the one question she couldn't answer. "Careful now," Felicity advised, pulling the key away. "The magic will come rushing back all at once. It'll be especially painful, now that you've worn this for more than a year already." "I do not need to be reminded—ah!" Scarlet gave a hiss of pain as the device on her horn fell away with a clatter. Bright, hot agony rushed to her head, along with all of the magic that had been lying dormant for such a long time. She felt the energy build at the tip of her horn and clenched her jaw, struggling to contain the blast. Casually, the doctor reached over and placed her hoof right at the sharp point of the curved horn. Another burst of pain assaulted Scarlet, and she glared up at her aunt, but gradually, the fiery throbbing resided. "Thanks . . . I guess," she mumbled, before turning away to thoroughly inspect her wings. They suddenly felt so much heavier and ached so much more than she was used to. "Come on. We have to get out of here, now." Felicity helped Scarlet to her hooves and briskly trotted to the door, peering through the tiny peephole. "Eliminate the guards. Quietly." Wordlessly, Scarlet grinned for the first time in months. A bright, single flare of silver magic shattered the thick wood to splinters; the guards outside jumped away with their spears up, but not fast enough. A quick spell left them both on the floor, sound asleep with only the faintest of pulses. "They won't be waking up from their comas for a while," Scarlet promised. She snatched up one of the twisted spears and examined the deadly point. "Hmm, I think I'll keep this." A spark from her horn transformed the weapon into a little charm on a cord around her neck, ready to be turned back if she needed it. "Interesting," mused Felicity. Scarlet twitched an ear toward her to listen as they walked through the dark, narrow tunnel, which sloped upward the further they went. "One year ago, you would have killed those stallions without a second thought. You've changed, Scarlet." Changed? Scarlet flattened her ears, feeling strangely embarrassed. Was Felicity right? Would she have been merciless on the guards before all of this? She said nothing until something metal and sharp clanged to the ground by her hoof, creating a long, shallow cut in her fetlock. "H-Hey, what gives?" she demanded, glowering at her aunt. Crimson blood was starting to well up, and she wiped it away with an irritated scowl. Felicity only nodded at the object that lay on the stone, prompting Scarlet to pick it up. Scarlet's magic encircled it, and upon closer inspection, she realized that it wasn't merely a hunk of metal. It wasn't just any knife. It was the Ruby Star. Her personal weapon. The hilt, carved from midnight obsidian, was set with a twisted column of embedded red gems and a lunging, fanged, ruby-eyed snake that wound around it, finished off with a single large ruby as the pommel. The crossguard had been carefully cut and etched to look like a pair of wings, shaped like a thestral's but covered with feathers like that of a pegasus. The polished blade itself was made of very rare diamond silver, forged in the volcano of Mount Flameheart in the dragon land, and heavily enchanted to slice through any material with ease. To top it all off, the dagger—its default form—would convert into any other weapon imaginable at a single command. The clang of the Star hitting the ground was the only sound that broke the sudden silence. "You!" A wave of impulsive, irrational fury swept through Scarlet, and she lashed out viciously, pinning Felicity against the wall of the passageway with a thump. "Why do you have this? I swore that I would never wield it again!" "Yes, you did," Felicity replied, unfazed. She met her niece's blazing glare evenly. "And now, for the sake of the Diamond Rose, you will have to revoke your oath." Scarlet's eyes went wide. She released Felicity, gazing down at the Ruby Star as if the force of her stare could burn it to ashes. "Fine," she growled. The Star flashed silver and vanished, reappearing as a tiny pendant on her thin rope necklace, clinking against the small spear that was already there. "But only for the Rose." Scarlet gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain in her chest that intensified as they neared the end of the tunnel. The Ruby Star around her neck was searing her, forcing her to feel a pain that was supposed to have receded so long ago. Curse this bewitched thing. Daybreak! Why did it have to find its way back to me? Why couldn't you just keep it, or destroy it, or anything! She hissed, sparks flickering around her horn. Let me go. LET ME GO! "Scarlet. Scarlet!" Felicity's shout jolted Scarlet back to the conscious world like a zap of lightning. The pink mare pointed to the diamond-reinforced metal door in front of them. "We're here." Scarlet smiled, yanking herself away from the thoughts of Diamond and her Fang and the Ruby Star. "Finally." She gathered magic in her horn, preparing for an onslaught to free herself from this hole. Felicity paused, frowned . . . and gasped. "No! Scarlet—wait—" Too late. The doctor heard Scarlet's screech of surprise as her magic beam slammed into the door and was deflected back at her, barely creating even a dent in the enchanted metal. The bat-unicorn was blasted a good twenty meters back, stopping only when she slammed into the rough wall at a bend in the passage. Felicity hurried over as her niece slid to the floor. "Scarlet, you headstrong filly . . ." Felicity sighed, reaching forward. "Are you all right?" "Hah . . . haha, hah . . . ha ha ha . . . Just . . . dandy," Scarlet giggled in a demented way that made Felicity want to facehoof. "Right . . . as rain, haha! Speaking of . . . it's raining . . ." Felicity groaned loudly. "Fine. I'm sorry," she said, and slapped her niece across the face, hard. A pale gray hoof shot up and grabbed hers, clenching tightly. Scarlet, now clearheaded, stared up at her with killing intent in her draconic eyes. Felicity smiled sweetly and extracted her hoof from Scarlet's grasp. "We only have so much time before the Royal Guard notices something's amiss and comes to investigate," she said patiently, walking back up the tunnel. After some ungraceful scrabbling, Scarlet scrambled to her hooves and followed her. "I tried to tell you, trying to destroy the door like that won't work." "Then what will?" By Tartarus, I hate being helpless . . . "Use the Ruby Star." Scarlet whipped her head toward Felicity, who kept walking without turning around. Argh, it would be so nice to have an enemy close by right now . . . or a dungeon full of enemies . . . I swore! I swore on the Diamond Crown, and even that wasn't enough! But . . . She looked grimly, almost murderously, down at the Star dangling from her necklace. If using it means my freedom, and if my freedom will help the Rose . . . Then, of course. It was never my choice to make, was it? Very well. She lifted the charm from the cord, enlarged the Star to its original size, and stared at it for what seemed like eternity. Welcome back, old friend. She uttered two heavy words that she'd said so many times but never thought she'd say again, a name that still brought so much pain flooding back: "Diamond Daybreak." In front of her, Flora Felicity froze. An emotion that she couldn't comprehend stabbed at her heart and brought pearly tears to her eyes. She quickly wiped them away before Scarlet could see. "Et vicissim excitet," Scarlet continued. "Diamond corona per ordinem!" As soon as she finished the incantation, the Ruby Star started to glow with a silver light so bright that Felicity had to avert her eyes. Not Scarlet, however; she stared into the blinding luminescence, her eyes fixed on the Star as its ruby pommel began to blaze brilliant red. "Matutinus. Diluculum." It became a six-bladed throwing star, morphed into a crescent moon glaive, and reverted back into a dagger, until it settled on a different shape, a disc with deadly edges designed to slice through solid diamond like paper. The disc spun faster and faster, drawing white-hot energy from Scarlet's horn, and smashed into the door with the force of a million suns and moons behind it. "Perdere!" Destroy. The door was gone, reduced to a pile of gray ashes. "Subtle," Felicity remarked, peering at the dust. "Very subtle. Nice work, though." Scarlet just looked back at her, the Star levitated behind her, and turned away from her aunt. The lethal weapon became a pendant on her necklace once more. "I did as I promised. I set you free," Felicity said. A breeze blew forth, rippling through their coats and lifting their manes to ride the air. "Now you must keep your end of the bargain." It was suddenly cold. So very cold. "Kill him, Scarlet. You were born to. That's why you wear the Diamond Crown, isn't it? That's why Daybreak entrusted the rule of her Diamond Rose Clan to you. That's why . . . that's why the Ruby Star belongs to you." Finally, Scarlet turned. Her eyes, filled with frost, flashed. A malevolent smile found its way onto her lips. "Kill him."
