The Song of the Mandrake Queenby TavifagChaptersCanto ICanto IIICanto IVCanto VCanto VICanto VIICanto VIIICanto IXPrologueCanto IICanto IAcross the bridge and down the roads As cobbles turn to loam Just past the pond with croaking toads There stood a lonely home And in the home there was a mare Whose days were full of toil She cultivated carrots there In dark and fertile soil Her cutie mark was just the same As her delicious crop It even did inspire her name: They called her Carrot Top. She led a very simple life Monotonous and dull Enduring hardship, pain, and strife For one most noble goal Her dreary life had but one light One reason to exult One thing that made the sun shine bright: A darling little colt. She was his mom, and he her son Though she was no one’s wife She worked until the day was done To win her son's good life He was an energetic boy Quite perfect in and out He brought his mother pride and joy His name was Carrot Sprout. Yet their horizon held dark clouds For just beyond their farm Beneath the forest’s leafy shrouds Was one who meant them harm. It started on one bright fall day As leaves were turning red When little Sprout was made to stay At home, quite sick in bed His mother did not feel concern The flu was all it was But as his fever came to burn It gave his mother pause When, after resting one whole day, Poor Sprout was still so ill She knew that she would have to pay A hefty doctor’s bill. She opened wide her dusty purse And laid her money bare She sighed and mumbled out a curse She could not pay for care As Carrot Sprout whimpered and cried While in his bed he laid She knew she’d have to squelch her pride And beg the doc for aid She made the long trip into town And found the doctor there She set her threadbare coin purse down And pleaded for his care The small-town doc was old and gray, He also was quite kind He promptly set off without pay To see what he could find. Upon arriving at her stead The doctor tasted fear The young colt’s tongue was crimson red His illness then was clear He prayed that it was not the case Ran all the tests he could They failed, and so he had to face An outlook far from good He told the colt he’d be okay And patted his sweet head He did not have the heart to say The child would soon be dead But still, the mother had to know Her son’s impending doom He tried to blunt the heavy blow With tactful, kind aplomb His tone was gentle as he spoke He was direct, not vague But still the farmer's poor heart broke At news of foul Red Plague. The weeping mare fell to the floor Her agony was pure Through sobs she managed to implore The doc to find a cure The doctor swore to do his best To save the colt from harm Advising liquids, soup, and rest, He left the carrot farm. Canto IIIYoung Sweetie gathered up her friends And shared the plan she’d made To satisfy her lofty ends She needed both their aid And when she told them what to do To help the colt in need Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo Quite happily agreed. The kindly trio set about Preparing their campaign They crafted slogans they could shout To maximize their gain And when the sun’s first golden ray Came heralding the dawn They set out quick and seized the day Their fundraiser was on! They knocked on every single door Hit every merchant’s stall “Save Carrot Sprout!” they did implore To ponies great and small And soon they found, to their surprise, Bits filling up their cart For Sweetie, with her big, sad eyes Could melt a frozen heart. And when the day was growing old Their fundraising was done They marveled at their pile of gold That gleamed beneath the sun Triumphantly, the fillies went To Carrot Top’s chateau They laughed and sang with merriment Their hearts were all aglow For nothing in this world contends, As all can plainly see, With bringing hope to downcast friends Through generosity. They knocked on Carrot Top’s front door And showed her their surprise The farmer’s jaw dropped to the floor And tears came to her eyes The fillies told her of their quest To help her save her son She quelled the sobs within her breast And deeply thanked each one. Soon Sweetie’s friends excused themselves They had somewhere to be And Carrot Top ransacked her shelves To find her finest tea The farmer and the filly sat And sipped at their hot brew They laughed and had a lovely chat As good friends often do Soon Sweetie went up with a smile To visit Carrot Sprout And Carrot Top worked for a while To count the money out. She counted stack by golden stack More than she’d ever seen The sheer amount took her aback She felt quite like a queen But as she counted, she felt fear Arising in her soul Could even this cash see her clear To pay her bill in full? At last she set the money down And choked up, lost for words The alms of the entire town Could not pay off those birds. Sure, she was close, but not quite there Just what was she to do? To save the young colt in her care Her options now were few. When Sweetie went home for the day She smiled and stroked her mane She did not have the heart to say Her efforts were in vain And once young Sprout was tucked in tight Both safe and warm in bed His mother stole into the night To walk and clear her head She did not care as she went ‘round It all was just the same She cast her gaze down at the ground And wandered without aim But soon she gave a frightened gasp And looked up just to see That she was in the forest’s grasp This was the Everfree! The woods beyond her house, she knew Were dangerous at night For monsters slithered, sneaked, and flew And sought some prey to bite She did her best to keep her cool And head back to the east She prayed she wouldn’t meet a ghoul Who’d have her for a feast She thought she saw the forest’s edge When something caught her ear A strange voice coming from a hedge Called out, both loud and clear “Oh please my child, please hear my rhyme, I do not mean you harm I’ve watched you now for quite some time Down on your carrot farm…” Canto IVThe weird sound coming from nearby Gave Carrot quite a scare She looked around, searched low and high, And stammered out “Who’s there?” “Come closer, child, and speak with me, For I know all about The deathly crimson malady Afflicting Carrot Sprout…” The farmer’s heart skipped quite a beat At mention of her child Though instinct told her to retreat, She stepped into the wild. The soothing voice, it led her on As gentle as a breeze, And soon enough she came upon A clearing in the trees The ground was covered with a plant Of very ill repute Its leaves hung in a drooping slant; They called it mandrake root When uprooted, the stories said, The mandrake, without fail, Would knock a foolish pony dead With one ear-piercing wail But stranger still, the form it took Could chill a pony’s soul; Its twisted roots would often look Just like a little foal! And at the clearing’s very core A worn stone altar stood It bore the evil runes of yore To ward off light and good Poor Carrot shook in fearful dread At this corrupted place But still she forged on straight ahead To see what she must face. As Carrot Top stepped with great care Her tired mind ill at ease She spied the figure of a mare Emerging from the trees “Now welcome, child, to my old shrine, In this forgotten glade. I think, with your son on the line, A bargain can be made…” The ragged mare looked small and old, Though sturdy as an oak, To ward herself from wind and cold She wore an old green cloak Her milky eyes seemed frail and weak But held a hidden flame, When Carrot brought herself to speak She asked the pony’s name. “Oh child, I’ve been called many ways But none that you have seen For ponies that I meet these days I’m just the Mare in Green. I’ve seen the trouble you’ve been through With your son’s losing fight, And so I wish to offer you A chance to set things right. For I can grant to you great wealth, Your coffers I can fill, So you can buy, for your son’s health, That Crystal Daffodil!” It seemed too good to be all true Could such a thing be real? The farmer asked what she must do For her side of the deal The Green Mare’s creepy laughing broke The silence ‘round the glade, She reached her hoof beneath her cloak, And pulled a wicked blade. “To this shrine, olden ponies came To offer sacrifice Now I want you to do the same To pay this bargain’s price. An innocent you must bring here Whose life is at its start Then lay her on the altar, dear, And pierce her noble heart When you’ve done that, I’ll let you see The secret that I hold, And you will most assuredly Start raking in the gold And once you’ve done it four times more We’ll both have reached our goals You’ll have your son back from death’s door And I’ll have five more souls!” She offered Carrot Top the knife But Carrot shouted “NO!” She swore upon her very life She’d never sink so low! “If that’s your stance, dear, I don’t mind You’re free to walk on out, Just know that you will never find A cure for Carrot Sprout. But should you do right by your son And child, I think you will, You cannot stop until you’re done Once you’ve first made a kill…” And as she muttered those last words, She looked up to the sky A flock of jet black, cawing birds Came swooping from on high They covered her from tail to face; A most disturbing scene, And when they left, there was no trace Of any Mare in Green. Then Carrot Top was wise enough To quickly run away And though she’d wheeze and huff and puff, She didn’t stop ‘til day. Canto VTwas dawn when Carrot reached her home And softly shuffled in She swore that she would never roam Into the woods again She snuck upstairs without a peep And checked on Carrot Sprout Her darling boy was still asleep So soon she too passed out But when she woke at eight o’clock In pain and hating life Her nightstand gave her quite a shock: It held the Green Mare’s knife! She loudly gasped in utter fright Her body shook with fear She didn't take the knife last night, How had it gotten here? But Carrot pushed fear from her head And hid the knife away With popping joints she rose from bed And went to face the day. She made some breakfast for her son And took it up the stairs She chatted with him one-on-one To help ease all his cares But soon she had to go away; She had a farm to run With mouths to feed and bills to pay She stepped out in the sun She tended to her tasty crops – Her usual routine She sprinkled water on their tops To keep their lush leaves green And as she gazed out at her fields She prayed with all her soul That harvest time would bring high yields And keep her coffers full For earning bits to save her son Was always on her mind But through hard work, she’d get it done And put this trial behind. She toiled for many hours straight With countless chores to do And as the day was growing late At last she saw them through But as she settled for the night She heard a noise outside And out her door she saw a sight That she could not abide Another filly from the school Was standing on the road And hurling insults sharp and cruel At her humble abode. She’d seen this young pink mare in town And knew of her high rank She wore a shining diamond crown That also marked her flank Her verbal barbs, so tinged with hate, Were meant for Carrot Sprout She mocked the sick child’s ghastly fate And boasted of her clout And up above her, Carrot Top Heard Sprout begin to cry This monstrous teasing had to stop; So outside she did fly! Her heart aflame with fury’s fire, She stormed out on the lawn She warned the filly of her ire If she did not get gone But to the farmer’s great surprise The filly did not care With hatred gleaming in her eyes She mocked the simple mare Her country bumpkin life was sad And what was even more She raised her child without a dad – She clearly was a whore! But worst of all was Carrot’s shame When it was cruelly said That she deserved to take the blame When her poor son was dead For had she planned and saved a bit Just stored some cash away She’d be prepared when trouble hit And Sprout would be okay. It’s said there is no crueler thing Than harsh words that are true; That insult had a truthful ring, The carrot farmer knew. So down in Carrot’s timid breast The mare felt something snap A rage-filled cry rose from her chest; She gave the girl a slap! The filly rubbed her tender cheek And gasped in disbelief; The humble farmer, oh so meek, Was quickly filled with grief But then the filly gave a frown And cleared her throat to say Her daddy owned the whole damn town And he would make her pay His legal team was up to snuff For such an easy suit; He’d sue the farmer, take her stuff, And leave her destitute! Poor Carrot Top was well aware This was no idle threat She lost her cool and now the mare Was swimming in regret She’d go to jail and lose her gold To pay the legal cost Her son would be out in the cold And surely would be lost But somewhere deep inside of her A dark voice made it clear She’d be safe if this filly were To somehow disappear… And plus, the Green Mare in the woods Would want her soul to steal She already would have the goods, So why not make a deal? She wrestled with that haunting fact She weighed it in her soul Could she commit an evil act To save her precious foal? In moments, Carrot's course was set She cursed the stars above Then struck her foe without regret All in the name of love The filly crumpled to the ground Beneath her harsh attack She dragged her off without a sound And stuffed her in a sack She tied the sack up extra tight Then grabbed the Green Mare’s blade And then she slunk off in the night To seek the ancient glade… Canto VIThrough underbrush and twisted vine The farmer ventured on To find the ancient forest shrine Before the light of dawn The bratty filly made no peep And laid limp in her bag As she was carried, fast asleep, To meet the forest hag And after hours of stumbling ‘round The forest late at night The mare saw mandrake on the ground Lit by the pale moonlight She stood up straight and set her jaw Took in a ragged breath Then marched right on into the maw Of this foul place of death. And as she set her weary eyes Upon her goal at last The altar, to her great surprise, Was much unlike the past The ebon runes carved to and fro Upon the tablet’s face Shone with an iridescent glow As delicate as lace The stone itself, once split and worn, Was fresh as virgin snow As if it had just now been shorn From bedrock down below. The farmer hefted up her sack And dumped the filly there Upon the altar, cold and black, She lay there unaware As Carrot Top beheld her prey The wind began to blow The twisted trees began to sway Leaves shaking to and fro And on the breeze her ears did catch A gleeful cackling sound That drew near to the mandrake patch As it swirled round and round The eerie sound became a boom And soon there could be seen A figure in the midnight gloom The dreaded Mare in Green! "My child, I knew you'd see the light, And do the proper thing. Now let us bless this sacred night With your fine offering! Now, this old rite of sacrifice Is quite easy to do As long as you took my advice And brought the knife with you." At this, the farmer did display That blade, so sharp and fierce, Which hungered for soft flesh to flay And blameless hearts to pierce. "Now hold that blade above your head Reciting after me These solemn words that must be said With utmost gravity: O Father of the ageless wood Beyond the grasp of time Devourer both of light and good I beg thee: hear my rhyme! Just as the snake consumes the mouse This soul I offer thee To serve the glory of thy house As roots sustain a tree Just as the chill of winter's breath Does summer's heat impugn Your living servant pays with death To seek thy godly boon O Father of the verdant hell Thy hunter calls for aid With sanguine ink I seal this spell The sacrifice is made!" And though the farmer felt so wrong These words she did recite The Mare in Green, her voice sing-song, Then cried out in delight "You've done it, child, the pact is made, It's time to do your part. Raise up your ancient, woeful blade And pierce the filly's heart!" The words fell hard upon the mare It all became so real She held the blade, but did she dare To finish out this deal? She gazed upon the little child That had to suffer death She saw her face so calm and mild She heard each steady breath A queasy feeling made her sway As she thought out her sin She felt her courage drain away; A fading fire within. The forest hag soon understood Poor Carrot's flagging will She growled beneath her ragged hood And spoke in tones most shrill: "I see the way you hesitate So listen well, you fool, You must not make the Father wait - Quick action is his rule. Stab quickly now with fury's fire And cut the child's heart out Or draw the mighty forest's ire And lose your Carrot Sprout!" With this, poor Carrot's mind was made She could not lose her son She held aloft the gleaming blade She had to get this done! She set her eyes once more to see The sleeping child below She murmured an apology Then struck the fateful blow. The blade fell quickly through the air Its bloody thirst to slake But then, to Carrot's great despair, The filly sprung awake The child let out a plaintive cry To all the gods above It was no use for she did die All in the name of love The blade struck home with stunning ease And silenced her for good Her blameless blood was shed to please The Father of the Wood. And as the child's life fell away Her murderer did spy Her own reflection on display Within the child's dead eye Her face alight with rage laid bare A strange look in her eyes - The mare she saw reflected there She did not recognize. With trembling hooves she tore apart The sacrifice's chest And then retrieved the still-warm heart From deep within her breast. The Green Mare cackled without stop And summoned up a bowl She placed it on the altar-top Next to the poor dead foal "Well done my child, my darling mare, You did it all with ease. Now drain the heart in that bowl there - Just give it one good squeeze!" So Carrot filled the blood bowl up Until the heart was dried And then the Green Mare poured a cup Of some strange dust inside A bubbling froth began to rise And soon it could be seen The mixture changed before their eyes To some dark shade of green. The Green Mare emptied out the brew Into a golden flask Then told the farmer what to do To finish out her task "By adding in the mandrake root The potion now is done And surely now you'll get the loot To save your precious son Just take the potion to your field And pour it on your crop It will increase your harvest's yield My dear sweet Carrot Top. But let me tell you one more thing That you cannot ignore: Now that you've made your offering You must bring back four more!" The Green Mare gave a laugh most weird Then lightning streaked the sky And in the flash, she disappeared In one blink of an eye And much to Carrot Top's great fear The filly was no more The corpse was gone, the altar clear Bereft of blood and gore The farmer did not linger long On that unholy ground And even though she felt so wrong She galloped, homeward bound. Canto VIIPoor Carrot ran through wood and hedge And though she knew not how She met the profane forest's edge With dawn's light on her brow Her muscles tired through and through, Exhaustion slowed her gait Yet she still had much work to do; The potion could not wait. She reached her humble carrot patch And with a pensive breath Undid her satchel's rusty latch And grasped the brew of death With closely measured careful drops She poured it to and fro And as the potion hit her crops They shone with magic's glow And once the potion all was gone She put the flask away Then trudged across her dewy lawn Right at the break of day. She went inside her worn front door To check up on her foal She found him sleeping with a snore - A peaceful, happy soul! The harrowed farmer had a drink To block out what she'd done Then went upstairs to sleep a wink Beneath the morning sun. She shut her eyes and tried to rest But sleep came fitfully Her blade within the filly's chest Was all her dreams could see And some time hence she heard a noise That work her with a jolt She ran downstairs with speed and poise For it came from her colt Her sickly son bounced happily His joyous grin was wide He bid his mom to come and see The miracle outside! And when the farmer's gaze was drawn Her lips uttered an oath For all her crops had undergone A truly massive growth Their bright green stalks stood tall and proud At least a sapling's height Their orange hue was bright and loud Their ripeness was just right Each swollen carrot seemed to match A large wood barrel's width It did appear the humble patch Was now the stuff of myth! With jaw agape she took young Sprout And, making not a peep The son and mother both went out A bounty rich to reap Despite her incredulity Her labors did begin She used her ingenuity To bring the harvest in She sent her son to grab supplies To build herself a winch For picking carrots of this size Would never be a cinch! By noon she finished her machine And yet she labored on Her carrots, by their stalks so green, From out the earth were drawn With all her strength she pulled and pulled Against each carrot's root Her muscles strained and sweat drops rolled To win her orange loot By three, the steadfast Carrot Top Had picked her small patch bare She loaded up her monstrous crop With tender loving care. And once the cart was loaded in She turned and went inside To go prepare her sickly kin To take him for a ride In blankets thick she wrapped her sweet To ward him from a chill She placed him in the cart's high seat Then left for Ponyville And as the farmer pulled her cart To sell her harvest's yield She saw a sight that froze her heart Encroaching on her field For just beyond the furthest bound Her carrots had been sown Within the dark and fertile ground Some mandrake root had grown! But Carrot bottled up her fright; She couldn't let Sprout know The awful thing she'd done last night To make her carrots grow. She set her eyes upon the road And soon the mighty mare Had pulled her old cart's heavy load Into the market square She quickly opened up her stall And with a sharp, loud wail Bid all the ponies, great and small To come and see her sale And when she set her carrots down The townsfolk gasped in shock And soon the tight-knit, sleepy town Was all abuzz with talk A bustling crowd then did appear To see the spectacle Their murmurs rife with awe and fear As Carrot played her role With showy flair the farmer spun The tale of poor Sprout's fate And how she prayed to save her son Before it was too late Her pious pleas to keep her colt Were answered from above; Her mythic crops the clear result Of holy, graceful love She played their heartstrings like a lute Then named her bounty's price: Two hundred bits for one whole root And ten bits for a slice. The mass of ponies stepped right up Their numbers strong and vast They threw their coins in Carrot's cup And bought the carrots fast And when the old mare first in line Gave Carrot's crop a bite She said it tasted quite divine So juicy, sweet, and right! The din grew in intensity The frenzied shouts rang loud So much that Carrot did not see A good friend in the crowd The friend maneuvered her small form And made it through the row Soon something soft and oh-so warm Hugged Carrot from below The farmer gasped and froze in place But her defenses fell When she looked down and saw the face Of her friend, Sweetie Belle. With blissful laughs the filly chimed That she was full of joy That fate had been so very kind To Carrot and her boy For Carrot's crops, undoubtedly Were sprung from Heaven's seed To save her humble family In times of pressing need With one false smile the farmer said It sure did seem that way Then Sweetie asked, her smile so wide, If Sprout would like to play. Upon the cart, young Sprout slept tight For he was frail and sick, Yet hearing Sweetie's voice so bright Sure woke him up right quick! The farmer let the children free To have a bit of fun As long as they returned to see The setting of the sun. So Carrot Sprout came off the cart His leave had been received! And Carrot Top, deep in her heart, Was secretly relieved For when she looked at Sweetie Belle So friendly, kind, and fair The child whose soul she fed to hell Was all that she saw there They both were young and full of life With lovely sparkling eyes That she extinguished with her knife To win her current prize But then the farmer shook her head And stood herself up tall She swallowed up her nagging dread And answered profit's call. Canto VIIIBy eventide, fair Carrot Top Sold out of all her stock She packed away her humble shop Then glanced up at the clock She heard the giant tower's bell Ring out its nighttime song She hoped that her young son was well And nothing had went wrong Then on the tower's final chime Two young ones trotted in Her son and Sweetie, right on time, Came hustling through the din Young Sprout looked flush and full of joy Despite his failing health The farmer welcomed back her boy While counting out her wealth. She thanked young Sweetie for her care And kindness towards her colt She really was a fine young mare, A worthy young adult! The bashful Sweetie gave a shrug With humble, practiced grace She gave young Sprout a tender hug A smile upon her face. And once the fond goodbyes were said The farmer packed her load Into her worn cart's rough-hewn bed And set off down the road. They left the bustling town behind Their dark path lit by torch, Then reached their home only to find Someone upon the porch! The night's gloom hardly did display The stranger's shrouded face But Carrot saw her coat was gray And she looked out of place As Carrot Top and Carrot Sprout Pulled up into the farm The little stranger shouted out And swore she meant no harm She said that she was here this day To find her missing friend For she'd been walking out this way Before last evening's end And only then did Carrot sense She hadn't took the time To contemplate this consequence Of her enormous crime She'd raise suspicion back in town As more foals met their fate Their searching eyes would all bear down To come investigate! This filly was the first to ask But surely not the last; They'd complicate the farmer's task Of saving Sprout real fast! And as the filly did recite Her lost friend's age and name Poor Carrot knew her kill last night Was surely just the same. So Carrot stood up straight and taut And spoke both loud and clear She lied and said that she had not Seen any foal 'round here The filly searched the farmer's soul With sparkling purple eyes And Carrot feared this simple foal Might catch her in her lies For her identity was clear; Her daddy ran the bank The silver spoon that stamped her rear Denoted wealth and rank Her glasses made her look the part Of one with wits quite fast In science, spelling, math and art She never came in last. At last the filly's gaze was through She spoke in tones quite slow That should the farmer find a clue She hoped she'd let her know Just then a voice came from the cart As Carrot's sickly youth Struck fear into his mother's heart By calling out the truth Young Carrot Sprout, so kind and pure Did what was good and right He told the filly he was sure He'd seen her friend last night! He told how she had just appeared When twilight's hour was nigh And how she'd heckled, mocked, and jeered To make him hurt and cry The filly gasped in disbelief And glared at Carrot Top The farmer's gut sunk down to grief She knew this had to stop! That nosy child could never know What happened in the wood And so she told the foal to go And stay away for good Reluctantly she went away, But soon, called out the youth, She'd come back another day And figure out the truth. So Carrot huffed and stamped the ground Then put her cart away She turned her door's knob, cold and round And turned in for the day And while she tucked her son in bed With soft, maternal care He turned and asked, eyes full of dread Just why she lied back there He heard her give the bully hell While he trembled in fright, Why could she not remember well What happened just last night? She stroked his mane and told her sweet, In one maternal coo That sadly, lies and plain deceit Were something grown-ups do For she had not lied on a whim, She told her sleepy foal, She lied because she cared for him With all her heart and soul She softly sang a lullaby To put her child to sleep, And once he dozed, she gave a sigh So ragged, long and deep. She went downstairs to have a drink And calm her battered nerves She needed quiet time to think Through all life's twists and curves Yet as she sat down with a beer And sunk into her chair A noise outside did make it clear That someone else was there She growled and grabbed a candlestick To see just who it was And swore she'd shoo them off right quick If they came without cause And outside in her carrot field Beneath the shroud of night The stranger's form was soon revealed In pale, soft candlelight It was the filly from before, The one who snooped and pried She'd come to look around once more And find some clues outside! And when she spotted Carrot Top The little filly froze The farmer marched out through her crop A short distance to close She shouted at the little spy For coming here tonight But then the corner of her eye Caught one horrendous sight: The fearful foal was holding strong Onto a muddy crown That Carrot knew once did belong To that young brat from town Last night she left it on the ground Like such a foolish lout! And now this foal had come around And found the secret out The fearful filly squeaked and cried And asked about her friend And Carrot Top coldly replied Her search was at an end And forward then the farmer sped Her candlestick held high She struck the girl upon her head Then dragged her off to die… Canto IXThe nighttime woods were calm and still A deathly, stagnant hush As Carrot dragged her future kill Through twisted vine and brush No frogs called out their croaking song No crickets played their drone; The farmer grimly marched along So fearfully alone Beneath the forest's silent shroud Distractions fell away And buried thoughts came roaring loud To haunt her on her way She saw her prey from yesterday, Recalled her bloody scream; It seemed unreal and far away A sick and monstrous dream. Yet here she was, now on her way To steal another soul A bitter, hefty price to pay To reach her noble goal She felt some creeping pangs of doubt About her current course But quickly chased the dark thoughts out With fervent, faithful, force. For surely she was good and right To play the Green Mare's game; She did her gruesome deed tonight In love's exalted name! And all the horrid things she'd done And all the things she'd do Were good if they could help her son To see his sickness through. 'Twas midnight when she found that place Where mandrake root did grow She plodded in, bereft of grace Her sacrifice in tow The dormant wind at once awoke It shook both tree and brush And softly, then, the forest spoke Its voice a raspy hush "My child, your wisdom is immense; How quickly you've returned! It's only through your diligence That Sprout's good health is earned..." The phantom voice did cackle out; The breeze became a gust The leaves began to swirl about Commingling with the dust The monstrous wind swirled 'round her face; A cyclone had begun! It whirled about the sacred place As leaves within it spun The verdant tempest set its eyes Upon the clearing's core Once there, it it quickly shrunk in size And concentrated more The swirling wind took pony form And soon there could be seen Emerging from the leafy swarm The smiling Mare in Green "No doubt you saw the great effect Of last night's lovely brew! So show the Father your respect And do what you must do!" Though fearful at the spectacle The farmer gave a nod And shuffled forth to trade a soul To please the Forest God With one great heave she set the kid Upon the altar's stone And from its sheath, the knife was slid To cleave her flesh from bone. Beneath her, Carrot saw her prey, Her form lit by the moon Her coat a pretty shade of gray And on her flank, a spoon Her stylish glasses scratched and bent Her mane was all distraught The girl was cute as fillies went, But all that mattered not Mechanically, she raised her blade And took the green mare's lead She spoke the spell within the glade To feed the forest's greed "O Father of the ageless wood Beyond the grasp of time Devourer both of light and good I beg thee: hear my rhyme! Just as the snake consumes the mouse This soul I offer thee To serve the glory of thy house As roots sustain a tree Just as the chill of winter's breath Does summer's heat impugn Your living servant pays with death To seek thy godly boon O Father of the verdant hell Thy hunter calls for aid With sanguine ink I seal this spell The sacrifice is made!" And strangely then, she felt no fright, No creeping pangs of doubt So Carrot struck with all her might And snuffed the filly out The steel struck true within her chest The victim drew one breath She shuddered hard, then came her rest; The endless sleep of death. And as the blood came fast and hot And spurted on the mare Poor Carrot had a dreadful thought: She really didn't care. She gazed down at the dead child's face And cared not for her plight; She chose to snoop around her place And earned her fate tonight. The last night's kill was hard to do It wracked her from within; But this time she had gone right through And thought not of her sin. No reservations slowed her blade; They just did not occur; Had this foul place already made A killer out of her? The Green Mare's wheezing, grating cry Then broke her reverie The forest witch was riding high, And cackling with glee "My child, you made a perfect kill! Such skill and such finesse! And now that Father's had his fill, Your carrot patch he'll bless! Now show me more amazing art In how you use that knife. Cut out the filly's poor pure heart And drain it of its life." The butchery was quick and fast As Carrot cut the foal Removed her still-warm heart at last And squeezed it in a bowl The Mare in Green then did her task And added mandrake root She mixed it, poured it in a flask, Then boiled it up to boot The glowing brew was quickly done And bottled nice and tight And eager then to see her son, The farmer soon took flight But as she turned to head on out And leave this place of fear She heard the Green Mare give a shout And call out loud and clear: "That's two you've finished, Carrot Top, But three more still to give. So carry on and don't you stop If you want Sprout to live..." PrologueThe simple folk of Ponyville From whence this story hails Derive a certain perverse thrill From dark and spooky tales In quiet whispers, some may tell Of evil they have seen: A vision from the pits of Hell, The dreaded Mandrake Queen A banshee made of twisted wood, Her eyes are jet black holes She stalks the righteous, hunts the good, And gobbles up their foals And ponies claim that late at night Whilst having pleasant dreams They have been woken in a fright By shrill and monstrous screams Upon the breaking of the day When folks have heard that sound A foal, they’ll say, has run away; But they are never found. But she was not just born that way, That dreaded, demon mare; Pure evil walks by light of day And takes one unaware. So gather friends, for now’s the time As nights grow cold and long, To hear this cautionary rhyme: The Mandrake Queen’s sad song. Canto IIThe doctor diligently sought A cure for Carrot Sprout But soon it seemed ‘twas all for naught And time was running out He wrote to colleagues far and wide Read all the books he had He looked and searched, but none supplied Salvation for the lad The doc's poor wits were near their end And worked right to the bone When he received word from his friend In distant Griffonstone It seemed the griffons had a brew For Red Plague and its ilk: Three cups of frost salts, cold and blue Mixed with some buttermilk While those two things were common fare The potion needed more Its final part was very rare And steeped in myth and lore: Born from the hearts of windigos That brim with icy chill A flower grown in bitter snows, The Crystal Daffodil. But some old griffons had the skill To find the bloom of ice They’d ship some off to Ponyville If paid the proper price The letter then went on to state The flower’s crushing cost The doctor knew at that high rate That Carrot Sprout was lost For Ponyville was not a town Imbued with massive wealth And none could put the money down To save the young lad’s health He set the letter to the side And though his stomach churned, He went to solemnly confide The news that he had learned. Meanwhile, the carrot-farming mare Was doing her utmost To stop the sick child in her care From giving up the ghost Her many friends did what they could To aid her in this task They came because their hearts were good, She didn’t have to ask. Sprout’s kindly friend from down the way Brought water from her well And came to help him pass each day Her name was Sweetie Belle Though weak and sick, young Carrot Sprout Did not fall to despair He’d smile and laugh, he’d joke and shout While in his sweet friend’s care And when poor Sprout just had to sleep She left most gracefully, She crept downstairs without a peep And joined his mom for tea As they were sharing their Earl Grey A rap came on the door The doc arrived with much to say About the bitter cure And when he shared the sky-high rate To get what Sprout would need, The farmer’s heart was filled with hate; She cursed the griffons’ greed. As Carrot Top began to cry The doctor hugged her tight, But Sweetie wouldn’t let Sprout die; She swore that she would fight! She let the grieving mother be And headed home with haste, For if she wanted victory There was no time to waste Though nobody in Ponyville Alone was rich enough Together, they could pay the bill It wouldn’t be that tough! And so the noble Sweetie Belle Embarked on her bold quest To end her good friend’s living hell And let the poor colt rest.
Canto IAcross the bridge and down the roads As cobbles turn to loam Just past the pond with croaking toads There stood a lonely home And in the home there was a mare Whose days were full of toil She cultivated carrots there In dark and fertile soil Her cutie mark was just the same As her delicious crop It even did inspire her name: They called her Carrot Top. She led a very simple life Monotonous and dull Enduring hardship, pain, and strife For one most noble goal Her dreary life had but one light One reason to exult One thing that made the sun shine bright: A darling little colt. She was his mom, and he her son Though she was no one’s wife She worked until the day was done To win her son's good life He was an energetic boy Quite perfect in and out He brought his mother pride and joy His name was Carrot Sprout. Yet their horizon held dark clouds For just beyond their farm Beneath the forest’s leafy shrouds Was one who meant them harm. It started on one bright fall day As leaves were turning red When little Sprout was made to stay At home, quite sick in bed His mother did not feel concern The flu was all it was But as his fever came to burn It gave his mother pause When, after resting one whole day, Poor Sprout was still so ill She knew that she would have to pay A hefty doctor’s bill. She opened wide her dusty purse And laid her money bare She sighed and mumbled out a curse She could not pay for care As Carrot Sprout whimpered and cried While in his bed he laid She knew she’d have to squelch her pride And beg the doc for aid She made the long trip into town And found the doctor there She set her threadbare coin purse down And pleaded for his care The small-town doc was old and gray, He also was quite kind He promptly set off without pay To see what he could find. Upon arriving at her stead The doctor tasted fear The young colt’s tongue was crimson red His illness then was clear He prayed that it was not the case Ran all the tests he could They failed, and so he had to face An outlook far from good He told the colt he’d be okay And patted his sweet head He did not have the heart to say The child would soon be dead But still, the mother had to know Her son’s impending doom He tried to blunt the heavy blow With tactful, kind aplomb His tone was gentle as he spoke He was direct, not vague But still the farmer's poor heart broke At news of foul Red Plague. The weeping mare fell to the floor Her agony was pure Through sobs she managed to implore The doc to find a cure The doctor swore to do his best To save the colt from harm Advising liquids, soup, and rest, He left the carrot farm.
Canto IIIYoung Sweetie gathered up her friends And shared the plan she’d made To satisfy her lofty ends She needed both their aid And when she told them what to do To help the colt in need Both Apple Bloom and Scootaloo Quite happily agreed. The kindly trio set about Preparing their campaign They crafted slogans they could shout To maximize their gain And when the sun’s first golden ray Came heralding the dawn They set out quick and seized the day Their fundraiser was on! They knocked on every single door Hit every merchant’s stall “Save Carrot Sprout!” they did implore To ponies great and small And soon they found, to their surprise, Bits filling up their cart For Sweetie, with her big, sad eyes Could melt a frozen heart. And when the day was growing old Their fundraising was done They marveled at their pile of gold That gleamed beneath the sun Triumphantly, the fillies went To Carrot Top’s chateau They laughed and sang with merriment Their hearts were all aglow For nothing in this world contends, As all can plainly see, With bringing hope to downcast friends Through generosity. They knocked on Carrot Top’s front door And showed her their surprise The farmer’s jaw dropped to the floor And tears came to her eyes The fillies told her of their quest To help her save her son She quelled the sobs within her breast And deeply thanked each one. Soon Sweetie’s friends excused themselves They had somewhere to be And Carrot Top ransacked her shelves To find her finest tea The farmer and the filly sat And sipped at their hot brew They laughed and had a lovely chat As good friends often do Soon Sweetie went up with a smile To visit Carrot Sprout And Carrot Top worked for a while To count the money out. She counted stack by golden stack More than she’d ever seen The sheer amount took her aback She felt quite like a queen But as she counted, she felt fear Arising in her soul Could even this cash see her clear To pay her bill in full? At last she set the money down And choked up, lost for words The alms of the entire town Could not pay off those birds. Sure, she was close, but not quite there Just what was she to do? To save the young colt in her care Her options now were few. When Sweetie went home for the day She smiled and stroked her mane She did not have the heart to say Her efforts were in vain And once young Sprout was tucked in tight Both safe and warm in bed His mother stole into the night To walk and clear her head She did not care as she went ‘round It all was just the same She cast her gaze down at the ground And wandered without aim But soon she gave a frightened gasp And looked up just to see That she was in the forest’s grasp This was the Everfree! The woods beyond her house, she knew Were dangerous at night For monsters slithered, sneaked, and flew And sought some prey to bite She did her best to keep her cool And head back to the east She prayed she wouldn’t meet a ghoul Who’d have her for a feast She thought she saw the forest’s edge When something caught her ear A strange voice coming from a hedge Called out, both loud and clear “Oh please my child, please hear my rhyme, I do not mean you harm I’ve watched you now for quite some time Down on your carrot farm…”
Canto IVThe weird sound coming from nearby Gave Carrot quite a scare She looked around, searched low and high, And stammered out “Who’s there?” “Come closer, child, and speak with me, For I know all about The deathly crimson malady Afflicting Carrot Sprout…” The farmer’s heart skipped quite a beat At mention of her child Though instinct told her to retreat, She stepped into the wild. The soothing voice, it led her on As gentle as a breeze, And soon enough she came upon A clearing in the trees The ground was covered with a plant Of very ill repute Its leaves hung in a drooping slant; They called it mandrake root When uprooted, the stories said, The mandrake, without fail, Would knock a foolish pony dead With one ear-piercing wail But stranger still, the form it took Could chill a pony’s soul; Its twisted roots would often look Just like a little foal! And at the clearing’s very core A worn stone altar stood It bore the evil runes of yore To ward off light and good Poor Carrot shook in fearful dread At this corrupted place But still she forged on straight ahead To see what she must face. As Carrot Top stepped with great care Her tired mind ill at ease She spied the figure of a mare Emerging from the trees “Now welcome, child, to my old shrine, In this forgotten glade. I think, with your son on the line, A bargain can be made…” The ragged mare looked small and old, Though sturdy as an oak, To ward herself from wind and cold She wore an old green cloak Her milky eyes seemed frail and weak But held a hidden flame, When Carrot brought herself to speak She asked the pony’s name. “Oh child, I’ve been called many ways But none that you have seen For ponies that I meet these days I’m just the Mare in Green. I’ve seen the trouble you’ve been through With your son’s losing fight, And so I wish to offer you A chance to set things right. For I can grant to you great wealth, Your coffers I can fill, So you can buy, for your son’s health, That Crystal Daffodil!” It seemed too good to be all true Could such a thing be real? The farmer asked what she must do For her side of the deal The Green Mare’s creepy laughing broke The silence ‘round the glade, She reached her hoof beneath her cloak, And pulled a wicked blade. “To this shrine, olden ponies came To offer sacrifice Now I want you to do the same To pay this bargain’s price. An innocent you must bring here Whose life is at its start Then lay her on the altar, dear, And pierce her noble heart When you’ve done that, I’ll let you see The secret that I hold, And you will most assuredly Start raking in the gold And once you’ve done it four times more We’ll both have reached our goals You’ll have your son back from death’s door And I’ll have five more souls!” She offered Carrot Top the knife But Carrot shouted “NO!” She swore upon her very life She’d never sink so low! “If that’s your stance, dear, I don’t mind You’re free to walk on out, Just know that you will never find A cure for Carrot Sprout. But should you do right by your son And child, I think you will, You cannot stop until you’re done Once you’ve first made a kill…” And as she muttered those last words, She looked up to the sky A flock of jet black, cawing birds Came swooping from on high They covered her from tail to face; A most disturbing scene, And when they left, there was no trace Of any Mare in Green. Then Carrot Top was wise enough To quickly run away And though she’d wheeze and huff and puff, She didn’t stop ‘til day.
Canto VTwas dawn when Carrot reached her home And softly shuffled in She swore that she would never roam Into the woods again She snuck upstairs without a peep And checked on Carrot Sprout Her darling boy was still asleep So soon she too passed out But when she woke at eight o’clock In pain and hating life Her nightstand gave her quite a shock: It held the Green Mare’s knife! She loudly gasped in utter fright Her body shook with fear She didn't take the knife last night, How had it gotten here? But Carrot pushed fear from her head And hid the knife away With popping joints she rose from bed And went to face the day. She made some breakfast for her son And took it up the stairs She chatted with him one-on-one To help ease all his cares But soon she had to go away; She had a farm to run With mouths to feed and bills to pay She stepped out in the sun She tended to her tasty crops – Her usual routine She sprinkled water on their tops To keep their lush leaves green And as she gazed out at her fields She prayed with all her soul That harvest time would bring high yields And keep her coffers full For earning bits to save her son Was always on her mind But through hard work, she’d get it done And put this trial behind. She toiled for many hours straight With countless chores to do And as the day was growing late At last she saw them through But as she settled for the night She heard a noise outside And out her door she saw a sight That she could not abide Another filly from the school Was standing on the road And hurling insults sharp and cruel At her humble abode. She’d seen this young pink mare in town And knew of her high rank She wore a shining diamond crown That also marked her flank Her verbal barbs, so tinged with hate, Were meant for Carrot Sprout She mocked the sick child’s ghastly fate And boasted of her clout And up above her, Carrot Top Heard Sprout begin to cry This monstrous teasing had to stop; So outside she did fly! Her heart aflame with fury’s fire, She stormed out on the lawn She warned the filly of her ire If she did not get gone But to the farmer’s great surprise The filly did not care With hatred gleaming in her eyes She mocked the simple mare Her country bumpkin life was sad And what was even more She raised her child without a dad – She clearly was a whore! But worst of all was Carrot’s shame When it was cruelly said That she deserved to take the blame When her poor son was dead For had she planned and saved a bit Just stored some cash away She’d be prepared when trouble hit And Sprout would be okay. It’s said there is no crueler thing Than harsh words that are true; That insult had a truthful ring, The carrot farmer knew. So down in Carrot’s timid breast The mare felt something snap A rage-filled cry rose from her chest; She gave the girl a slap! The filly rubbed her tender cheek And gasped in disbelief; The humble farmer, oh so meek, Was quickly filled with grief But then the filly gave a frown And cleared her throat to say Her daddy owned the whole damn town And he would make her pay His legal team was up to snuff For such an easy suit; He’d sue the farmer, take her stuff, And leave her destitute! Poor Carrot Top was well aware This was no idle threat She lost her cool and now the mare Was swimming in regret She’d go to jail and lose her gold To pay the legal cost Her son would be out in the cold And surely would be lost But somewhere deep inside of her A dark voice made it clear She’d be safe if this filly were To somehow disappear… And plus, the Green Mare in the woods Would want her soul to steal She already would have the goods, So why not make a deal? She wrestled with that haunting fact She weighed it in her soul Could she commit an evil act To save her precious foal? In moments, Carrot's course was set She cursed the stars above Then struck her foe without regret All in the name of love The filly crumpled to the ground Beneath her harsh attack She dragged her off without a sound And stuffed her in a sack She tied the sack up extra tight Then grabbed the Green Mare’s blade And then she slunk off in the night To seek the ancient glade…
Canto VIThrough underbrush and twisted vine The farmer ventured on To find the ancient forest shrine Before the light of dawn The bratty filly made no peep And laid limp in her bag As she was carried, fast asleep, To meet the forest hag And after hours of stumbling ‘round The forest late at night The mare saw mandrake on the ground Lit by the pale moonlight She stood up straight and set her jaw Took in a ragged breath Then marched right on into the maw Of this foul place of death. And as she set her weary eyes Upon her goal at last The altar, to her great surprise, Was much unlike the past The ebon runes carved to and fro Upon the tablet’s face Shone with an iridescent glow As delicate as lace The stone itself, once split and worn, Was fresh as virgin snow As if it had just now been shorn From bedrock down below. The farmer hefted up her sack And dumped the filly there Upon the altar, cold and black, She lay there unaware As Carrot Top beheld her prey The wind began to blow The twisted trees began to sway Leaves shaking to and fro And on the breeze her ears did catch A gleeful cackling sound That drew near to the mandrake patch As it swirled round and round The eerie sound became a boom And soon there could be seen A figure in the midnight gloom The dreaded Mare in Green! "My child, I knew you'd see the light, And do the proper thing. Now let us bless this sacred night With your fine offering! Now, this old rite of sacrifice Is quite easy to do As long as you took my advice And brought the knife with you." At this, the farmer did display That blade, so sharp and fierce, Which hungered for soft flesh to flay And blameless hearts to pierce. "Now hold that blade above your head Reciting after me These solemn words that must be said With utmost gravity: O Father of the ageless wood Beyond the grasp of time Devourer both of light and good I beg thee: hear my rhyme! Just as the snake consumes the mouse This soul I offer thee To serve the glory of thy house As roots sustain a tree Just as the chill of winter's breath Does summer's heat impugn Your living servant pays with death To seek thy godly boon O Father of the verdant hell Thy hunter calls for aid With sanguine ink I seal this spell The sacrifice is made!" And though the farmer felt so wrong These words she did recite The Mare in Green, her voice sing-song, Then cried out in delight "You've done it, child, the pact is made, It's time to do your part. Raise up your ancient, woeful blade And pierce the filly's heart!" The words fell hard upon the mare It all became so real She held the blade, but did she dare To finish out this deal? She gazed upon the little child That had to suffer death She saw her face so calm and mild She heard each steady breath A queasy feeling made her sway As she thought out her sin She felt her courage drain away; A fading fire within. The forest hag soon understood Poor Carrot's flagging will She growled beneath her ragged hood And spoke in tones most shrill: "I see the way you hesitate So listen well, you fool, You must not make the Father wait - Quick action is his rule. Stab quickly now with fury's fire And cut the child's heart out Or draw the mighty forest's ire And lose your Carrot Sprout!" With this, poor Carrot's mind was made She could not lose her son She held aloft the gleaming blade She had to get this done! She set her eyes once more to see The sleeping child below She murmured an apology Then struck the fateful blow. The blade fell quickly through the air Its bloody thirst to slake But then, to Carrot's great despair, The filly sprung awake The child let out a plaintive cry To all the gods above It was no use for she did die All in the name of love The blade struck home with stunning ease And silenced her for good Her blameless blood was shed to please The Father of the Wood. And as the child's life fell away Her murderer did spy Her own reflection on display Within the child's dead eye Her face alight with rage laid bare A strange look in her eyes - The mare she saw reflected there She did not recognize. With trembling hooves she tore apart The sacrifice's chest And then retrieved the still-warm heart From deep within her breast. The Green Mare cackled without stop And summoned up a bowl She placed it on the altar-top Next to the poor dead foal "Well done my child, my darling mare, You did it all with ease. Now drain the heart in that bowl there - Just give it one good squeeze!" So Carrot filled the blood bowl up Until the heart was dried And then the Green Mare poured a cup Of some strange dust inside A bubbling froth began to rise And soon it could be seen The mixture changed before their eyes To some dark shade of green. The Green Mare emptied out the brew Into a golden flask Then told the farmer what to do To finish out her task "By adding in the mandrake root The potion now is done And surely now you'll get the loot To save your precious son Just take the potion to your field And pour it on your crop It will increase your harvest's yield My dear sweet Carrot Top. But let me tell you one more thing That you cannot ignore: Now that you've made your offering You must bring back four more!" The Green Mare gave a laugh most weird Then lightning streaked the sky And in the flash, she disappeared In one blink of an eye And much to Carrot Top's great fear The filly was no more The corpse was gone, the altar clear Bereft of blood and gore The farmer did not linger long On that unholy ground And even though she felt so wrong She galloped, homeward bound.
Canto VIIPoor Carrot ran through wood and hedge And though she knew not how She met the profane forest's edge With dawn's light on her brow Her muscles tired through and through, Exhaustion slowed her gait Yet she still had much work to do; The potion could not wait. She reached her humble carrot patch And with a pensive breath Undid her satchel's rusty latch And grasped the brew of death With closely measured careful drops She poured it to and fro And as the potion hit her crops They shone with magic's glow And once the potion all was gone She put the flask away Then trudged across her dewy lawn Right at the break of day. She went inside her worn front door To check up on her foal She found him sleeping with a snore - A peaceful, happy soul! The harrowed farmer had a drink To block out what she'd done Then went upstairs to sleep a wink Beneath the morning sun. She shut her eyes and tried to rest But sleep came fitfully Her blade within the filly's chest Was all her dreams could see And some time hence she heard a noise That work her with a jolt She ran downstairs with speed and poise For it came from her colt Her sickly son bounced happily His joyous grin was wide He bid his mom to come and see The miracle outside! And when the farmer's gaze was drawn Her lips uttered an oath For all her crops had undergone A truly massive growth Their bright green stalks stood tall and proud At least a sapling's height Their orange hue was bright and loud Their ripeness was just right Each swollen carrot seemed to match A large wood barrel's width It did appear the humble patch Was now the stuff of myth! With jaw agape she took young Sprout And, making not a peep The son and mother both went out A bounty rich to reap Despite her incredulity Her labors did begin She used her ingenuity To bring the harvest in She sent her son to grab supplies To build herself a winch For picking carrots of this size Would never be a cinch! By noon she finished her machine And yet she labored on Her carrots, by their stalks so green, From out the earth were drawn With all her strength she pulled and pulled Against each carrot's root Her muscles strained and sweat drops rolled To win her orange loot By three, the steadfast Carrot Top Had picked her small patch bare She loaded up her monstrous crop With tender loving care. And once the cart was loaded in She turned and went inside To go prepare her sickly kin To take him for a ride In blankets thick she wrapped her sweet To ward him from a chill She placed him in the cart's high seat Then left for Ponyville And as the farmer pulled her cart To sell her harvest's yield She saw a sight that froze her heart Encroaching on her field For just beyond the furthest bound Her carrots had been sown Within the dark and fertile ground Some mandrake root had grown! But Carrot bottled up her fright; She couldn't let Sprout know The awful thing she'd done last night To make her carrots grow. She set her eyes upon the road And soon the mighty mare Had pulled her old cart's heavy load Into the market square She quickly opened up her stall And with a sharp, loud wail Bid all the ponies, great and small To come and see her sale And when she set her carrots down The townsfolk gasped in shock And soon the tight-knit, sleepy town Was all abuzz with talk A bustling crowd then did appear To see the spectacle Their murmurs rife with awe and fear As Carrot played her role With showy flair the farmer spun The tale of poor Sprout's fate And how she prayed to save her son Before it was too late Her pious pleas to keep her colt Were answered from above; Her mythic crops the clear result Of holy, graceful love She played their heartstrings like a lute Then named her bounty's price: Two hundred bits for one whole root And ten bits for a slice. The mass of ponies stepped right up Their numbers strong and vast They threw their coins in Carrot's cup And bought the carrots fast And when the old mare first in line Gave Carrot's crop a bite She said it tasted quite divine So juicy, sweet, and right! The din grew in intensity The frenzied shouts rang loud So much that Carrot did not see A good friend in the crowd The friend maneuvered her small form And made it through the row Soon something soft and oh-so warm Hugged Carrot from below The farmer gasped and froze in place But her defenses fell When she looked down and saw the face Of her friend, Sweetie Belle. With blissful laughs the filly chimed That she was full of joy That fate had been so very kind To Carrot and her boy For Carrot's crops, undoubtedly Were sprung from Heaven's seed To save her humble family In times of pressing need With one false smile the farmer said It sure did seem that way Then Sweetie asked, her smile so wide, If Sprout would like to play. Upon the cart, young Sprout slept tight For he was frail and sick, Yet hearing Sweetie's voice so bright Sure woke him up right quick! The farmer let the children free To have a bit of fun As long as they returned to see The setting of the sun. So Carrot Sprout came off the cart His leave had been received! And Carrot Top, deep in her heart, Was secretly relieved For when she looked at Sweetie Belle So friendly, kind, and fair The child whose soul she fed to hell Was all that she saw there They both were young and full of life With lovely sparkling eyes That she extinguished with her knife To win her current prize But then the farmer shook her head And stood herself up tall She swallowed up her nagging dread And answered profit's call.
Canto VIIIBy eventide, fair Carrot Top Sold out of all her stock She packed away her humble shop Then glanced up at the clock She heard the giant tower's bell Ring out its nighttime song She hoped that her young son was well And nothing had went wrong Then on the tower's final chime Two young ones trotted in Her son and Sweetie, right on time, Came hustling through the din Young Sprout looked flush and full of joy Despite his failing health The farmer welcomed back her boy While counting out her wealth. She thanked young Sweetie for her care And kindness towards her colt She really was a fine young mare, A worthy young adult! The bashful Sweetie gave a shrug With humble, practiced grace She gave young Sprout a tender hug A smile upon her face. And once the fond goodbyes were said The farmer packed her load Into her worn cart's rough-hewn bed And set off down the road. They left the bustling town behind Their dark path lit by torch, Then reached their home only to find Someone upon the porch! The night's gloom hardly did display The stranger's shrouded face But Carrot saw her coat was gray And she looked out of place As Carrot Top and Carrot Sprout Pulled up into the farm The little stranger shouted out And swore she meant no harm She said that she was here this day To find her missing friend For she'd been walking out this way Before last evening's end And only then did Carrot sense She hadn't took the time To contemplate this consequence Of her enormous crime She'd raise suspicion back in town As more foals met their fate Their searching eyes would all bear down To come investigate! This filly was the first to ask But surely not the last; They'd complicate the farmer's task Of saving Sprout real fast! And as the filly did recite Her lost friend's age and name Poor Carrot knew her kill last night Was surely just the same. So Carrot stood up straight and taut And spoke both loud and clear She lied and said that she had not Seen any foal 'round here The filly searched the farmer's soul With sparkling purple eyes And Carrot feared this simple foal Might catch her in her lies For her identity was clear; Her daddy ran the bank The silver spoon that stamped her rear Denoted wealth and rank Her glasses made her look the part Of one with wits quite fast In science, spelling, math and art She never came in last. At last the filly's gaze was through She spoke in tones quite slow That should the farmer find a clue She hoped she'd let her know Just then a voice came from the cart As Carrot's sickly youth Struck fear into his mother's heart By calling out the truth Young Carrot Sprout, so kind and pure Did what was good and right He told the filly he was sure He'd seen her friend last night! He told how she had just appeared When twilight's hour was nigh And how she'd heckled, mocked, and jeered To make him hurt and cry The filly gasped in disbelief And glared at Carrot Top The farmer's gut sunk down to grief She knew this had to stop! That nosy child could never know What happened in the wood And so she told the foal to go And stay away for good Reluctantly she went away, But soon, called out the youth, She'd come back another day And figure out the truth. So Carrot huffed and stamped the ground Then put her cart away She turned her door's knob, cold and round And turned in for the day And while she tucked her son in bed With soft, maternal care He turned and asked, eyes full of dread Just why she lied back there He heard her give the bully hell While he trembled in fright, Why could she not remember well What happened just last night? She stroked his mane and told her sweet, In one maternal coo That sadly, lies and plain deceit Were something grown-ups do For she had not lied on a whim, She told her sleepy foal, She lied because she cared for him With all her heart and soul She softly sang a lullaby To put her child to sleep, And once he dozed, she gave a sigh So ragged, long and deep. She went downstairs to have a drink And calm her battered nerves She needed quiet time to think Through all life's twists and curves Yet as she sat down with a beer And sunk into her chair A noise outside did make it clear That someone else was there She growled and grabbed a candlestick To see just who it was And swore she'd shoo them off right quick If they came without cause And outside in her carrot field Beneath the shroud of night The stranger's form was soon revealed In pale, soft candlelight It was the filly from before, The one who snooped and pried She'd come to look around once more And find some clues outside! And when she spotted Carrot Top The little filly froze The farmer marched out through her crop A short distance to close She shouted at the little spy For coming here tonight But then the corner of her eye Caught one horrendous sight: The fearful foal was holding strong Onto a muddy crown That Carrot knew once did belong To that young brat from town Last night she left it on the ground Like such a foolish lout! And now this foal had come around And found the secret out The fearful filly squeaked and cried And asked about her friend And Carrot Top coldly replied Her search was at an end And forward then the farmer sped Her candlestick held high She struck the girl upon her head Then dragged her off to die…
Canto IXThe nighttime woods were calm and still A deathly, stagnant hush As Carrot dragged her future kill Through twisted vine and brush No frogs called out their croaking song No crickets played their drone; The farmer grimly marched along So fearfully alone Beneath the forest's silent shroud Distractions fell away And buried thoughts came roaring loud To haunt her on her way She saw her prey from yesterday, Recalled her bloody scream; It seemed unreal and far away A sick and monstrous dream. Yet here she was, now on her way To steal another soul A bitter, hefty price to pay To reach her noble goal She felt some creeping pangs of doubt About her current course But quickly chased the dark thoughts out With fervent, faithful, force. For surely she was good and right To play the Green Mare's game; She did her gruesome deed tonight In love's exalted name! And all the horrid things she'd done And all the things she'd do Were good if they could help her son To see his sickness through. 'Twas midnight when she found that place Where mandrake root did grow She plodded in, bereft of grace Her sacrifice in tow The dormant wind at once awoke It shook both tree and brush And softly, then, the forest spoke Its voice a raspy hush "My child, your wisdom is immense; How quickly you've returned! It's only through your diligence That Sprout's good health is earned..." The phantom voice did cackle out; The breeze became a gust The leaves began to swirl about Commingling with the dust The monstrous wind swirled 'round her face; A cyclone had begun! It whirled about the sacred place As leaves within it spun The verdant tempest set its eyes Upon the clearing's core Once there, it it quickly shrunk in size And concentrated more The swirling wind took pony form And soon there could be seen Emerging from the leafy swarm The smiling Mare in Green "No doubt you saw the great effect Of last night's lovely brew! So show the Father your respect And do what you must do!" Though fearful at the spectacle The farmer gave a nod And shuffled forth to trade a soul To please the Forest God With one great heave she set the kid Upon the altar's stone And from its sheath, the knife was slid To cleave her flesh from bone. Beneath her, Carrot saw her prey, Her form lit by the moon Her coat a pretty shade of gray And on her flank, a spoon Her stylish glasses scratched and bent Her mane was all distraught The girl was cute as fillies went, But all that mattered not Mechanically, she raised her blade And took the green mare's lead She spoke the spell within the glade To feed the forest's greed "O Father of the ageless wood Beyond the grasp of time Devourer both of light and good I beg thee: hear my rhyme! Just as the snake consumes the mouse This soul I offer thee To serve the glory of thy house As roots sustain a tree Just as the chill of winter's breath Does summer's heat impugn Your living servant pays with death To seek thy godly boon O Father of the verdant hell Thy hunter calls for aid With sanguine ink I seal this spell The sacrifice is made!" And strangely then, she felt no fright, No creeping pangs of doubt So Carrot struck with all her might And snuffed the filly out The steel struck true within her chest The victim drew one breath She shuddered hard, then came her rest; The endless sleep of death. And as the blood came fast and hot And spurted on the mare Poor Carrot had a dreadful thought: She really didn't care. She gazed down at the dead child's face And cared not for her plight; She chose to snoop around her place And earned her fate tonight. The last night's kill was hard to do It wracked her from within; But this time she had gone right through And thought not of her sin. No reservations slowed her blade; They just did not occur; Had this foul place already made A killer out of her? The Green Mare's wheezing, grating cry Then broke her reverie The forest witch was riding high, And cackling with glee "My child, you made a perfect kill! Such skill and such finesse! And now that Father's had his fill, Your carrot patch he'll bless! Now show me more amazing art In how you use that knife. Cut out the filly's poor pure heart And drain it of its life." The butchery was quick and fast As Carrot cut the foal Removed her still-warm heart at last And squeezed it in a bowl The Mare in Green then did her task And added mandrake root She mixed it, poured it in a flask, Then boiled it up to boot The glowing brew was quickly done And bottled nice and tight And eager then to see her son, The farmer soon took flight But as she turned to head on out And leave this place of fear She heard the Green Mare give a shout And call out loud and clear: "That's two you've finished, Carrot Top, But three more still to give. So carry on and don't you stop If you want Sprout to live..."
PrologueThe simple folk of Ponyville From whence this story hails Derive a certain perverse thrill From dark and spooky tales In quiet whispers, some may tell Of evil they have seen: A vision from the pits of Hell, The dreaded Mandrake Queen A banshee made of twisted wood, Her eyes are jet black holes She stalks the righteous, hunts the good, And gobbles up their foals And ponies claim that late at night Whilst having pleasant dreams They have been woken in a fright By shrill and monstrous screams Upon the breaking of the day When folks have heard that sound A foal, they’ll say, has run away; But they are never found. But she was not just born that way, That dreaded, demon mare; Pure evil walks by light of day And takes one unaware. So gather friends, for now’s the time As nights grow cold and long, To hear this cautionary rhyme: The Mandrake Queen’s sad song.
Canto IIThe doctor diligently sought A cure for Carrot Sprout But soon it seemed ‘twas all for naught And time was running out He wrote to colleagues far and wide Read all the books he had He looked and searched, but none supplied Salvation for the lad The doc's poor wits were near their end And worked right to the bone When he received word from his friend In distant Griffonstone It seemed the griffons had a brew For Red Plague and its ilk: Three cups of frost salts, cold and blue Mixed with some buttermilk While those two things were common fare The potion needed more Its final part was very rare And steeped in myth and lore: Born from the hearts of windigos That brim with icy chill A flower grown in bitter snows, The Crystal Daffodil. But some old griffons had the skill To find the bloom of ice They’d ship some off to Ponyville If paid the proper price The letter then went on to state The flower’s crushing cost The doctor knew at that high rate That Carrot Sprout was lost For Ponyville was not a town Imbued with massive wealth And none could put the money down To save the young lad’s health He set the letter to the side And though his stomach churned, He went to solemnly confide The news that he had learned. Meanwhile, the carrot-farming mare Was doing her utmost To stop the sick child in her care From giving up the ghost Her many friends did what they could To aid her in this task They came because their hearts were good, She didn’t have to ask. Sprout’s kindly friend from down the way Brought water from her well And came to help him pass each day Her name was Sweetie Belle Though weak and sick, young Carrot Sprout Did not fall to despair He’d smile and laugh, he’d joke and shout While in his sweet friend’s care And when poor Sprout just had to sleep She left most gracefully, She crept downstairs without a peep And joined his mom for tea As they were sharing their Earl Grey A rap came on the door The doc arrived with much to say About the bitter cure And when he shared the sky-high rate To get what Sprout would need, The farmer’s heart was filled with hate; She cursed the griffons’ greed. As Carrot Top began to cry The doctor hugged her tight, But Sweetie wouldn’t let Sprout die; She swore that she would fight! She let the grieving mother be And headed home with haste, For if she wanted victory There was no time to waste Though nobody in Ponyville Alone was rich enough Together, they could pay the bill It wouldn’t be that tough! And so the noble Sweetie Belle Embarked on her bold quest To end her good friend’s living hell And let the poor colt rest.
