Stoney Slagmore - Heartfelt

Chapters

O Goddess, wanna be friends?
Just a little Chili...
Kure-All's Cure All?

O Goddess, wanna be friends?

Surfing through the Dream Trails of Equestria has always been a favorite activity of ours, we must admit. Despite how… strange… some of our subject’s dreams have proven to be, it always brings us a great sense of satisfaction to ensure that everypony gets a good nights rest, free of any dangers the mind could present. It’s always brought that feeling, in the past. Or it might just be that the deep purples and fluffy whites of the Trails come as a soothing sight to us, but that’s neither here nor there.

Given just how much experience we have with slaying the bad dreams of our ponies, we’ve managed to pick up telltale signs of distress even before entering another’s dream. Things such as peculiar door formation, obvious signs of decay or damage, and even blockades are all fairly common signs of somepony suffering a nightmare.

Not to brag, as it wouldn’t befit royal blood such as we… but it seems pretty obvious just how good at our job we are!

Using our experience to our advantage is extremely helpful in the dreamscape and ends up making our duties infinitely less taxing. Instead of checking each individual dream, or trying to, as we did in the early days of our rule alongside our sister, all that is needed now is a glance at each door as we stride through the plane of sleep.

This particular night seems to be in our favor! Thus far, we have been fortunate enough to not encounter any signs of distress on any of the doors we’ve passed, making our routes all that much quicker. Fortune seems to shine upon us, thankfully!

Or at least, it did up until we discovered the door standing before us. An interesting thing about the trails we tend to walk is that they are overwhelmingly simple in layout. Not many turns or alcoves exist within this realm, and any that do most certainly do not have Dream Gates hidden in them. We’ve made sure of that through our many years, thank you very much!

‘So that brings an important question. Where in Tartarus did this gateway come from?!’ We think, completely infuriated with having overlooked this gateway. Who knows how long this poor subject of ours has suffered! The notes of distress around this door are deeply rooted, and from the looks of it have existed for an extremely extended period of time.

In a secluded offshoot of the trail of dreams, and completely isolated from other gateways lay a massive 10 foot tall pair of double doors. Made of rich redwood and covered top to bottom in impressive wood work, it’s easily impressive compared to most other gateways. Couple that with the brushed brass of the hinges and curved handles, and we can safely say that this particular door would rank within the top fifty most intriguing gateways we have ever happened across through our Dream Trail travels.

Or it would, if not for the extensive alterations done to the poor gate. Weathered nearly beyond reasoning for a single door to withstand, the wood was completely littered with pockmarks and pockets of splintering wood. Beyond that, the brass is almost entirely covered by the crippling remains of corrosion. In the few months since we have been back in Equestria from our lunar imprisonment, not a single gateway showed itself to be in such ruin. In fact, most were rather well kept! Usually only chipped paint or perhaps a small dent was to be found on the occasional door. Never was it anything this bad.

Then there were the locks., the chains… even razor wiring. With but a single glance, we can tell there is something deathly wrong with the owner of this gate.

Naturally, this interests us.

“I suppose this subject is in dire need of our help, this night. Perhaps many more nights to come, at that…” We end up stating quietly to ourselves. After all, there is no need to use the Royal Voice with nopony to hear it, correct? Raising a single hand up to the complete mess of metal before us, we charge the dreamscape with a slightly stronger dose of mana than what is usual. This being our own domain, no specific spells are required of us. Just apply a bit of mana and use your will to change ‘reality’, as it were! We can only just see the deep blue glow of our own magic emanate from our horn, but that isn’t what really catches the eye.

The true spectacle is the mass of metals before us, melting away from the door with out fuss. As chains upon locks upon wiring fade out of existence before our very eyes, we notice our mana going further on it’s path than even we anticipated. Small patches of corrosion seem to flake off of the metal fixtures, leaving shining brass in their wake. Nice work, to be sure! Only the best for our subjects, after all!

‘Enough of our shameful display of ‘humble bragging’, as the young ones say in Manehatten. We have nightmares to conquer!’ Walking towards the gateway with purpose in every stride, we lay our hands on both of the handles. The strength of our grip crunches and crumbles the remaining evidence of corrosion, only growing louder as we turn the knobs. With nothing more than a nod to assure ourselves, we throw the twin doors open with much more force than anticipated. Judging by the make of the gate, one would assume it to be much heavier that it actually is, much like we just have. Must be rotted, or even older than we had imagined. Either way, the force with which we threw the door open creates a loud bang that echoes across the small alcove, the reverberations nearly making me wince from surprise.

‘How shameful! To be caught off guard by a mere door… what would our subjects think?’ Beyond our mental chastising, we observe what the now opened gateway has revealed. Nothing but darkness, as is usual. One would need to actually enter the door before the owner’s dreams reveal themselves. The good news is there are no visible abnormalities in the gateway shroud.

“One point to us, we shall assume…” The sure-to-come point against us has yet to show. Huzzah for the small things, we suppose.

With what we’re sure is nothing but steel in our eyes, we bravely walk through the shroud of darkness that makes up the doorway’s other side.

Only to be blind-sided by both brightness and stench. The sudden overwhelming presence of blinding white causes us to shield our eyes for just a few, precious seconds out of shock. During these seconds, we managed to identify the near offensive scent now hosting a parade in her nostrils. After a moment, it was easily discovered that the area was…

‘Lemon scented? Now isn’t that quite the odd choice for a night terror…’ We thought to ourselves, honestly befuddled at the seemingly out of place scent in this supposed horror show. As the seconds of visual shock wear off, we take our time adjusting to the bright light of our subject’s dream. All around us was white. From the ceiling, to the walls, to even the floors were spotless white panels, all lit completely by a source unknown to us. These panels covered the entirety of the area, none different that the others and each one blindingly perfect. A quick tap of our hoof to the floor revealed much about the area, as a metallic clang answered back. If not for the metal covered everything, we would almost liken the place to a medical facility. The offensive stench really only bolsters that comparison, in our own opinion.

… We have never been one to particularly enjoy hospitals, to be quite frank.

‘To say that the room in which we reside is clean would be an understatement… it’s completely empty! There seems to be only one thing in this room at all, and that would be the closed door to our front…’ And so it is, our thoughts don’t lie! Directly in front of us, seemingly extremely out of place in all aspects that matter, was a lone redwood door. The singular door was nearly identical to the pair we had went through in the Dream Trail, with one glaring difference. This one is in pristine condition, as far as doors go. The brushed brass shines with a muted ferocity in the harsh light of the room, and the wood of the door itself appears lacquered and polished with great care.

Intriguing.

We begin our way to the door with confidence once more, resting our hand on the untarnished handle only to hesitate. Our ears have perked up of their own volition and… is that music we hear? Just barely for now… but perhaps on the other side of this door is the matter of the nightmare! We’ve seen many subjects, in our day, suffering from stage fright and all of the like-minded hesitation that comes along with it.

Confident in our ability to help our ‘Musician Hopeful’, we toss open the door without pause for concern, only to be shocked by the sheer emotion being poured into these cords.

Even if asked… we’re not quite sure that we would be able to pinpoint the exact feelings these sounds inspire in our heart. One would most likely have to ask that ‘Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’ to seek out it’s meaning. Or, if idiotic enough, ask one of those vile ‘changeling’ creatures to sample their emotions during the song. Perish the thought! Opening our eyes, we are once again struck by the sight of an overwhelmingly sterile room. ‘Uncomfortably clean’ would be a good term to use for the previous room.

However, this room is not ‘uncomfortably clean’. Where the last one was completely barren, this one had something to show. Standing in the middle of the room was a massive glass structure, housed on a raised square pedestal only two feet in height. The display glass above that raised for another eight feet, and was occupied by tall metallic posts, each one pronged on the very tops and arranged in such an order inside the case that their purpose was undeniable.

“They were meant to hold something up. Not at all dissimilar to the new age medical museums Tia has shown us…” We mumble to ourselves, at this point easily intrigued, but also immensely worried. Cautiously walking around to the back of the ‘attraction’, we discover that the entire back of the glass case has been shattered, leaving scores of broken glass covering the floor. Then, there was the blood. Entire stretches of the broken glass resting on the floor are soaked in the stuff, like someone had chose to lay in the bed of lacerations for a brief time. All this evidence brings to mind a sickening fact.

Whatever was in this case, had broken out. Whatever was in this case, was alive. And even worse, there’s a chance that whatever was in this case is our subject, and they’re obviously hurt very bad! Panic immediately runs through our mind, but is subsequently killed and used as determination.

‘We… I have to find this pony and help them. Fast.’ It’s proven difficult for us to speak in this ‘new age’ tongue, but we must admit… it tends to sound distinctly ‘cooler’ than our usual way of speech. We attempt to quickly turn toward the door, located in exactly the same place as last time, only for something to catch our attention from the corner of our eye. Looking back, we are greeted by the sight of a sliver of light, dangling in midair. Taken slightly aback, we move in closer and inspect it further, glass crunching underhoof as we move in. Being within reach of the shifting sliver, we grab it between our fingers and find…

“A string…? How odd.” We utter under our breath. Between our index finger and thumb, lay an extremely thin line of wiring, damn near transparent. We can tell easily that one end remains attached to the pedestal, but where the other is anchored one can only find out. And find out we shall! Releasing the string and turning our focus to yet another door matching the one left behind in the Dream Trail, we believe it’s safe to assume the interior won’t be changing radically any time soon. However, instead of the tightly closed redwood that we’ve become somewhat accustomed to, we instead beheld a foreboding sight.

Standing halfway ajar was the familiar redwood door. This particular door has a menacing new addition to it’s ornate decor, however. Soaking the wood in a long streak, and also covering the handle in the distinct mold of a hand was a bright layer of life-blood. All of this easily confirms my fears that whatever inhabited the case was injured, and quite gravely from the looks of it. That means this Princess has no time to waste!

Rushing towards the door we use our magic to take hold of the door and slam it open, entering the new area without hesitation. A quick glance behind ourselves has us assured. Same walls, same floors, same types of areas. Filled with confidence at being proved right about the familiar layout, we throw our gaze forward once more only to have our stomach churn at the mere sight before us. Mounted in the dead center of the area is a container much the same as the one located in the previous room. Glass walls, raised pedestal, the whole ordeal. It was however missing the metal prongs. In addition, the entire display was filled with water that could only be described as filthy.

Then, of course, was the bloated body left to rot in the tank.

An ultimately disturbing sight, if we are totally honest. Having lead a war or two ourselves, we can safely say that the sight of the dead doesn’t exactly instil much in the way of fear in us. However… this pony did not die a glorious death. This was nothing more than pure sadistic torture. Sitting before us is quite the embodiment of the phrase ‘sleeping with the fishes’. An earth pony, presumably. And from the size of them I’m sure that at one point, they were quite the catch… but not so much anymore. In the tank lay a body bloated beyond all recognition, and in consequence it’s markings lay in ruin. Varicose veins show painfully puffed up through nearly every part of the stallion’s exposed, muted orange coat. The bloated corpse’s mouth was hanging wide open, eyes entirely glazed over and turned a milky white, and brown mane floating over the poor victims head like a halo of death. Mane and beard alike were swimming indiscriminately with algae, a testament to how long the body had lived in this tank. Attached to the poor stallion’s hooves were a set of shackles, chained tightly to concrete cinder blocks which rested at the very bottom of the tank.

We’re sure that on the outside, we seem perfectly fine. On the inside, however, we’re having trouble not gagging at the thought of the putrid stench of rot being held behind the simple case of obviously breakable glass in front of us.

Disgusting…

We choose to entirely circumvent the gruesome centerpiece of the room, instead on a quest for the next door. Before we manage to reach the similarly blood smeared door, a familiar glimmer of light catches our eye once more.

Upon closer inspection yet another wire leads from the object in the room and leads through the door. The only notable difference is that this wire was joined by the one from the previous room, interestingly enough. With our ‘wire inspection’ now over, we push the door open completely. We decide to be on the cautious side with this room, given this dreamscape’s standing record. It also seems we were right to be cautious.

The room itself wasn’t any different. White walls, ceiling, and floor. At the center, was a simple wooden chair. Knocked over onto it’s side, though obviously not due to a struggle of any kind. From the ceiling hangs a massive pendulum, much like that of a grandfather clock. The pendulum does not move, but if it is due to being broken or just too weighed down, we do not know. From the pendulum hung a thick rope, tied smartly onto a hollow section near the bottom. And from the rope… we’re sure you can guess.

From the rope was a stallion of remarkably similar coloring as the bloated corpse in the room before. A muted orange coat, coupled with a matching raggedy excuse for pants. Over the head of the body was a burlap sack, making this eerily similar to a traditional hanging. The chair, though, marks otherwise. Red velvet ropes isolate the body from everything else... much like those from the play house in Canterlot. Who ever thought this was artful enough to rope off a hanged stallion from the public should be ‘fixed’. By the gods themselves, if need be. We earnestly wish to not study this particular display… we find that the subtle swinging of the body is unsettling. We move to the door, once again discover another new wire, now numbering in three.

We move through the familiar, slightly ajar, blood stained door again.

This room greeted me with a body much the same as the others. We can only assume that this is the same stallion as all the others, since this example was charred beyond all hope of recognition. Unsettling to be sure, but our sister has left examples much alike this one during the wars long past. All in all, this room holds nothing for us besides a new string and another door.

Through the next, a radically different sight was held. In the middle of the room, on a simple stone pedestal a rather nondescript urn resides, but that isn’t the what we mean by ‘radical difference’. Instead of crisp white tiling, nearly every inch of every wall was affixed with cork board, with the board then being occupied by a veritable army of notes. This caught our interest, so we decided to move forward for ‘investigation’. With pages now in our hands, it seems each note contains a nonsensical blend of medical jargon and mathematical equations…. that we don’t quite understand, to be perfectly honest.

“Honest to goodness nonsense, in our opinion! Who in their right mind would be able to understand all of this?!” Nopony, that’s who!

Just under our moment of irate attitude, we hear something that causes our ears to perk up. Immediately we cease our noise making, listening intently in hopes the sound might happen even once more.

“Where is it?” *SLAP* “I have to find it…” *SLAP* “…what’s this supposed to be?” *SLAP*

Our ear twitches in excitement as we listen to the sounds, just barely able to make out the words being said. Immediately the ‘bogus’ research papers are tossed to the floor with less than our utmost care, and we turn towards the direction we heard the voice. If we’re right, the voice we’re hearing is the owner of this gateway. If that’s correct, then we can finally free the poor stallion of this nightmare!

We just hope it’s not another corpse. One that can talk. We’ll never admit it, but a shiver just crawled up our spine.

Enraptured by the thought of finally being able to save this suffering stallion, we rush off towards the door. In our haste, we nearly miss the evidence of yet another wire attached at the end to the peculiar urn in the center of the room. Like all the others, now amounting to five in total, they lead a path through the door, anchored to something unknown to us. Standing before the familiar door, our ears perk up once again as a peculiar sound joins the constant mumbling. Every few seconds, sharp crunches would sound off through the door. This confirms our belief that whoever is on the other side of this door was undoubtedly trapped in the first display we discovered, once upon a time.

That’s the telltale sound of broken glass after all… there’s no mistaking it.

As shameful as it is, we decide to brace our gut before opening the door before us. With the current trend, it’s likely that there exists behind this door another gruesome sight. To be transparent here, we do not find ourselves a fan of them, really. Encompassing the door with our magic, we successfully swing the redwood open without a sound. As we do, the music that has been so constant throughout our trip undergoes a drastic, change. From the somewhat calming, foreboding tones of string is birthed a distorted, wobbly piece. One which makes us extremely unenthusiastic to continue.

Then comes the shock.

‘We are not sure we are particularly proud to have gotten this prediction right…’ And behold, our thoughts are proven correct once more! In quite a disgusting fashion, at that. Past that door is an area one could only describe as an ‘Organ Locker’, and definitely one with a violation or two. This room was quite a few feet deeper than all the others, making steps a necessity. Due to this, the blood had somewhere to pool. Easily a few inches deep, the entire room was seemingly flooded by coagulated, rotted blood… the smell, in our opinion, is positively putrid! Easily enough to make a weaker Princess gag… we did not ‘chuck-the-up’!

But the fun doesn’t stop there. Oh, it keeps going.

At the very center of the room lay a table-sized pedestal, made of the same white metal as all the others, only streaked a rotted brown in various places along it’s sides by age-old blood. On top of the pedestal only awaits more horrors, this one decidedly more unsettling than a mere puddle of liquid life.

An arguably mountainous pile of life sustaining organs lay on top of the surface. From here we could pick out hearts, livers, kidneys and an uncountable amount of parts we don’t have any knowledge of. In our eyes, this room has proven to be the most disgusting of them all by far!

But this room also seems to prove itself as being of interest to our host.

Standing hoof deep in the drink was the very same stallion we’ve become accustomed to seeing bodies of. The first thing we notice as we silently walk towards him, proving successful at evaporating the slushy nightmare as we tread closer, is just how tall this stallion is. Standing at a height matching our own 7 ft isn’t an easily attainable goal for what I assume is a regular earth pony. In fact, one would usually label that ‘abnormal’, if we are honest! The features don’t just end at his height, however. Turned with his back facing us, broad shoulders and a perfectly muscled back greet us. Atop his head lay a mass of shoulder-length, wavy brown locks, easily identified as his mane. Through the rags being used as trousers, we can see heavily muscled calves, and even what we can see of his biceps seem to follow the trend!

An all around ‘beef-cake’, as we’ve heard our sister say in the past.

“Not this one, either…” Announces the stallion in a gruff voice, seeming to grab something from the pile before him and toss it to the side. The object hits the tiled wall with a meaty smack, marking the sounds we heard earlier as this, and falls into the drink with a wet plop. It seems our mystery host is here. Just sorting through the pile of meat for… hearts? This nightmare is certainly an odd one, we must say. We could only fathom a guess at where its roots lay.

Then the familiar glimmer of wiring catches our vision once more. With the way they’re arranged through the room, there’s only one area they lead to… the stallion before me, still sorting through the meat. Each movement of his arms flexes his back, then shaking the glimmering strings in the harsh light. We decide to carry our stride ever closer, still evaporating the blood around us as we go, so that we may discover exactly how these wires and our host are connected.

‘Dear Tartarus! How does this stallion still move?!’

And connected quite literally, it would seem. Buried deep into various patches of muscle rest five hooks, each digging deeper with seemingly every move. This shocks us for a most obvious reason, that being any normal pony would be convulsing in pain if they were to have their nerve clusters pierced quite like the stallion before us. However, instead of even the slightest indication of pain, he acts like it doesn’t even exist.

Quite the same situation with the bed of lacerations that rests on his sides, it would seem. The blood streaming from him seems to go entirely unnoticed.

Either way, those hooks need to come out. It’s a good thing we are capable of just that. Flaring our mana, a familiar blue aura begins to envelope the hooks, subsequently spreading to the strings themselves like liquid fire and encompassing the cuts entirely. With a silent chain of commands, the hooks and wires begin melting away from existence in much the same fashion as the chains did in the Dream Trails, the deep puncture and glass wounds sealing themselves up with a generous application of our mana. This being the realm of sleep, no spells specifically crafted for healing are really needed, which I always find helpful. My mana functions as a ‘one-hit-wonder’ in all nightmares! So focused we are on freeing this stallion, that we didn’t notice that we seem to have caught his attention.

Once our tasks had finished, the repetitive sound of mumbling and sorting seems to have stopped entirely. Breaking our attention from his back, we trail our gaze upward only slightly, to see what had possibly changed.

“Ah!” Only to be startled into backing up a single step by the eye meeting our own. While we busied ourselves, it seems our host had turned his head just enough to see us out of his left eye, staring with blank interest. Regaining our posture seamlessly, we finally address the owner of this nightmare. “Hello, our dear subject. Do not feel unnecessary fear, for you are only dreaming. We have come to help banish these terrors, this night. What is thy name, sir stallion?” We ask him with practiced grace, expecting praise from our thankful subject.

Only to be met with an insufferable silence.

The stallion before us wheels himself around fully now, facing us directly with no trace of intimidation of fear for himself or the situation. We could now see his brown mane was parted messily down the middle, only a single wavy strand resting in front of his speckled green eyes. A full, fluffy beard took up residence on his face, in some places streaked with gray and nearly covering his lips entirely. Package that with the light crows feet on the side of either eye, and this stallion projected quite the handsome image.

Moving on, his waterfall of wavy hair hid a strong neck and a perfect collarbone. Slabs of pure muscle occupy his chest, flanked on either side by defined biceps. The middle of his chest, oddly enough, was covered in thick medical padding, held in place by strong-looking adhesive. Further down, chiseled abs are likewise flanked by strong forearms on either side, both being permanently stained with his Talent Rune in a deep blue, quite closely resembling the hue of our own magic. It was an oddly old style, only having been documented very rarely even before Discord’s reign.

We’ve actually been informed that the colloquial term for ‘Talent Rune’ has actually been changed to ‘Cutie Mark’. How disgraceful can you get?

“You.” He mutters, snapping us out of our… examination. “I remember you. I think…? Before all of this happened… aren’t you the Goddess of Night?” He asks in obvious confusion, voice rumbling throughout the room as he tilts his head, waiting for our answer.

“Interesting… we haven’t been called Goddess of Night in more than one thousand years. Tell us how you know of that title, stallion. Also, don’t see it as fine to ignore a question from your Princess! Now, what is your name?” A little forceful on our part, but he shouldn’t take our questions lightly! The tall stallion before us hadn’t even looked ashamed at our admonishment, the nerve of this one! Cheeky, he surely is. He hasn’t stopped looking us dead in the eye since he’s noticed us, so it’s a bit of a surprise for us when he blinks, only to continue on in his gruff tones.

“...sorry. It’s been such a long time since I’ve talked to anypony, I guess I’m a mite rough.” He pauses with an intake of breath, sighing a moment later and lowering his gaze to the floor. We are unwilling to believe he managed to ignore our question once again, so we hold our tongue for the time being.

And obviously, to great effect. He seems to almost come alive before our very eyes, shedding a dispassionate, aloof skin we hadn’t seen before. Locking eyes with us once more, now holding a steely determination that seems recently discovered, he begins.

“My name… is Stoney Slagmore. O Goddess brought before me, I must request a favor.” He announces, the tone in his voice speaking volumes of the resignation in his heart. This, understandably, shocks us greatly.

‘The cheeky stallion goes and requests a favor, too?! Just who is this pony…?’ Doing our best not to let our shock be seen by our host, we wave our hand at him, signaling him to continue. “We shall hear your request, Stoney Slagmore, and see what can be done.” What? He may be cheeky, but anypony with the girth to ask the ‘Princess of Darkness’ to help them overcome their problem should at least be heard out.

As long as they aren’t a noble of Canterlot. The single stipulation.

“Free me.” He says, stone faced as ever. It seems the brief spark of youth in his character was only so he could work up the nerve to ask us.

“Wha-?” Confused by such a simple utterance, we prepared to ask him for more information, only to be cut off by the stallion himself continuing.

“Around ten miles north of the Crystal Empire is the base of the Mount Chili-Aid. At the base of that mountain exists a tribe of Diamond Dogs that hold me imprisoned. I don’t know exactly how long… but they’ve held me as a slave for a very long while. I need your help, Goddess.” Some might not be able to tell, but we- I’m sure he’s pleading to us, at this very moment. At least to him, this might be the closest he’s come to begging in years.

“Do you not have any frame of reference for how long it’s been? Surely you know slavery is an offence worthy of severe punishment in Equestria.” We decide to dig for more details. As enraged as this stallion’s stories make us, we cannot rush off to battle just yet. After all, times have changed since the last time we’ve dealt with citizens being in the hands of our enemies…

Much, has changed.

“I do have one clue… but I doubt you’ll believe me. I… I barely believe, myself.” His eyes flick from mine, quickly eyeing the hearts that lay piled against the wall as a result of his ‘sorting’.

“Doubting your Princess, Stoney?” We ask him, causing his attention to snap back to us. “Try us.”

“Fine then. I said that I’ve been with these mutts for a long time, right Goddess?” He asks me, to which I nod my affirmation. Why would he ask this? “Did I mention how I’ve watched generations die, one after another?” His voice dips even lower as he says this, barely grinding out the words.

Oh.

Oh.

“I-infighting, we presume?” Gruesome fights such as those would bring any pony to their knees, it makes fair sense to us. After all, it couldn’t possibly be-

“Old age, Goddess. They died of old age.” He uttered, just barely above a whisper.

As his eyes bore into our own, we find ourselves at a lose for words. Old age… Diamond Dogs may be short lived compared to an earth pony, but the tone in which he speaks suggests the situation isn’t quite as simple as that.

“J-just how many generations did you live through?” We- I’m honestly dreading the answer to come.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I lost count at some point, but maybe fifteen or sixteen? It’s really hard to keep track, these days…”

…

And with that, our tiny Princess mind is blown. ‘Fifteen or sixteen’, he says. FIFTEEN OR SIXTEEN?! That’s easily over a thousand years, if those Diamond Dogs lived through the average lifespan! How can this stallion possibly expect me to believe he’s that old?! An amused snort sounds of in the room, causing our irate thoughts to come to a trickle instead of the roaring stream it was.

“I can tell you don’t believe me, Goddess. No need to hide it so well!” How he announces this with a hearty laugh is beyond our understanding. Does he take his own insanity so lightly? “However, before you ask… I have a question for you.” The stallion before us allows a faint smile to brush across his lips, looking down as he rests his hand over the medical tape on his chest.

“Tell me what you remember of a little town called Silver Agro Falls.” He finishes, the smile on his face falling with such speed that it could easily be called unsettling.

With such a simple sentence, this earth pony nearly killed us. The mere mention of that fledgling town brings back memories thousands of years old already. Memories of a similar time stamp as the reign of Discord and the rocky first years of the Diarchy.

And all the towns that were lost entirely.

Just like that, our trust in this stallion was solidified, and with good reason. For we were present during the collection and burning of those particular records and books. The only way this subject could possibly know of such a place would be tightly-kept word-of-mouth, which is extremely unlikely since the only soldiers my sister and I led through that horrible place were great personal friends, or… by memory.

As stated before, an odd stallion indeed!

“Those are heavy words there, subject. Intriguing words, at that. We shall accept your request and handle it. Personally. You’ve caught our attention, Sir Stoney, so do your best not to perish before your rescue.” It wasn’t quite a joke as much as it was a sincere request, but through the harsh shine of ambient light in the room we could see the twinkle of amusement residing in his eyes. Crossing his arms, he ends up giving me a look I can’t quite pin down.

“Thank ya for the help, Goddess. Try to make it quick, too. I’d hate to watch another generation die before you manage to get here!” The cheeky stallion has the nerve to smile at us after this, crossing his thick arms over his chest in what’s most likely pride.

Truly, the balls on this one… we- I think I like him!

“To be frank, the slaving scoundrels will die once we arrive anyway. You’ve survived thousands of years, so we’re sure a day won’t kill you.” We announce dismissively with a swish from the back of our hand in his direction. To our happiness, this makes Stoney rumble with deep laughter, filling us with a fuzzy feeling we know to be success. “You may call us Luna, if you wish.”

What? A true Princess shouldn’t act shy in the slightest! If we wish to have this beautifully sexy stallion as our friend, we shall have him!

…

Hush.

“So be it, Luna. I do hope to see ya soon, though. That part isn’t a joke.” He tells us, arms still crossed in a relaxed manner.

“And you shall, Stoney Slagmore. That you shall.” With my words reassuring him, I decide now is the perfect time to wake up. We have a journey to plan, after all! Channeling our magic all throughout this dreamscape, it begins to melt away without any fuss. After all is said and done, we channel our mana through ourselves, in pursuit of the waking world once more. With only mere seconds before our time is up, we decide to tell Slagmore one last thing.

“Be safe, our friend.” A nod was my reply, mane of hair bobbing in accordance.

The all goes white, as is typical for us upon waking from our dream walks.

POV Change - Princess ‘Chelly’ Celestia

Thinking about it, I’m not sure if there’s anything quite relaxing as watching the sunrise in this dining room. Sure, we may have sat here more than a thousand times watching the sun paint the sky a beautiful array of light purples, pinks, and oranges, but can you ever really get tired of it?

…

Or maybe it’s the cake. The biscuits? Perhaps the eggs!

Nahh! It’s definitely the cake!

*SLAM*

“SISTER! We have made a new friend!”

From the door being slammed open thanks to my dear sister, the mold of fruity gelatin on the table jiggles seductively in response. How naughty of you, mister gelatin.

“That’s great news, Luna! What is their name?” Okay, as excited as I am for her making a new friend, the fact that she burst into the dining room in full battle armor is a bit worrying. I have a feeling I’m going to need more cake by the end of this… but that gelatin is looking mighty attractive…

“He is an earth pony named is Stoney Slagmore and he’s as tall as we are!” She goes on to explain in a rushed tone, great smile on her face as she bounces around like a filly out of excitement. “He’s got long hair and a beard, and when he laughs I feel all fuzzy inside!” She shouts without hesitation, just about making me sweat drop at how transparent she is. At the very least, it seems that my little sister is finally growing up. I give her a smile, but honestly it felt pretty awkward to do so after what she just said.

The gelatin continues to wiggle enticingly.

“So tell me about him, where does he live?” Better humor the story of her new ‘friend’ while it lasts… it’s only a matter of time before she tries to ask me what the best sex position is. Rest in peace, my little sisters innocence. May you live on in memory.

“Well I met him in his nightmare, and he’s been enslaved by a Diamond Dog clan at the base of Mount Chili-Aid for a long time! He asked us for some help, so we’re going to take a pair of the Valkyrie guards and wipe out the slavers! As the young ones say, ‘Don’t wait up’, sister!” With that, she grabs a biscuit from the bowl on the dining room table and bolts off, leaving the door wide open and my mind completely off-line.

She’s too strong to fall to the danger of a trap, so that’s good. She’ll have a pair of Valkyries with her, so she won’t be caught of guard. She’s into stallions, apparently, which is a little shocking. She hasn’t showed interest in anyone besides this Mister Stoney, so…?

Whatever. She’ll be fine.

“GUARD!” I bellow, gaining the attention of the two stationed outside the opened door.

“Yes, Princess?” They ask in sync.

“Find the kitchen and get me more cake.” My eyes flick from theirs to the seductive gelatin mold once more, giving me an idea. “And a gelatin mold with bananas in it, if you can. Go.” And just like that, they take off, leaving me in the dining room once more. Alone.

What the absolute fuck just happened?

…

Well, at the very least I might get a few nieces and nephews to spoil out of this. I'll take that as a win!

Author's Note

"Yo, Yo, Yo! What it is, Muthur Fuchers?!" - Here Comes Pacman (L O U D), Circa 2438

Tis I, Father Confusion, busy bursting onto the scene with the love-child chapter of Hellraiser and Total Recall.
Can you handle Chill-lestia the Gelatin Fiend and the 'Goddess' of Biscuits and quick decisions?

On a more serious note, I decided that after 2 years of reading on this site I might as well do some shit here too. Fuch it, right? :coolphoto:

Tell me what you thought of my demented creations if you want, or if you just wanna talk that's cool too.
(Psst! The cover art might be temporary, by the way!)

Shout out to the Story Approvers that had to sit down and read this thing. I love you, home slice.

Peace out, Home-Pones

Just a little Chili...

‘Ah, the sweet tingling feeling of being part of the waking world. How I’ve missed thee.’ Ever the cynic, even when I’m just waking up. As the sleep clears away, I can’t help but forcibly acknowledge the stench of my truly wonderful abode. The beautiful scent of ass and grease greets me immediately with it’s disgusting embrace. Barely managing to tear my eyes open, I can’t help but be disappointed with the sight before me.

Again.

Icy stone walls surround me, only disrupted by a thick steel door bolted directly in front of me. To my side is a simple metal table, covered in stray pieces of cloth and odd metal utensils. I never really put much thought into exactly what these utensils are because I simply can’t bring myself to care too much. Or at all, really.

Beyond the table and steel door, the room is the definition of spartan. There’s nothing but myself in the considerable darkness cloaking the area. Thing is, I’ve had time to get used to the light, or lack thereof. The only visual ‘help’ I really get here is from the grate in the door, allowing low-level light to filter in from the torches outside. At least there are torches today.

Taking the initiative, I shift my gaze directly upwards. To nopony’s surprise, my shackles remain tightly in place, digging into my forearms like they always have. Covering the entirety of my hands and trailing even up to my elbows are a pair of intricate shackles, carved with a multitude of etchings I could never hope to recognize. They may be as old as the stone I’m shackled to, but relatively speaking they’re new to me. After all, I’ve only been in possession of such beautiful, expensive jewelry for the past few hundred years!

Apparently prison breaks are heavily discouraged. Who knew?

Never the less, with these mitts on escape is all but impossible for right know. I know hopelessness when I see it, after all. Letting my gaze flop back down to the floor, I can’t help but think about the oddity of last night.

‘Through all the thousands of times I’ve experienced that dream, through all the changes… never once has there been another pony with me. What changed? Am I… am I finally slipping?’ I pessimistically think to myself, eyes lazily focused on the ray of light shining through the grate. Even with this burning sensation, a feeling I recognize as ‘hope’, I can’t help but doubt my own mind. ‘After all, I couldn’t imagine what would posses one of the rulers of the land to view my dreams, much less spend the resources to free me from these binds. They’d have to be-’

My thoughts are interrupted by my ears perking up.

“You’ll never take the undying one!”

“Step back from our hallowed grounds, you of unworthy pedigree will NOT see the flesh!”

Voices? And not just any voices… the voices of the guards. The keepers. I can’t even be bothered to reign in the intense burning feeling of excitement bubbling up in my chest as I listen to their yells. Anywhere else in the world, I’d call somepony insane for getting their hopes up at a few far-away shouts, but we’re not just anywhere.

Because, ya see, this is the Holy Den of mutts the world over, and they never make any noise.

A rumbling unlike any I’ve ever felt before vibrates through the very stone of the den, clanking the chains of my prison and clinking the metal utensils on the table. Even the thick layer of frost is fracturing under the force of the tense vibrations, flaking off the walls at an astounding pace. Although I’m not sure what it is, I feel for sure that it’s resonating with my bones. An impressive blast of light bleaches its way through the doors’ grate only seconds later, causing me with squinted eyes to struggle to adjust to the new visual clarity.

But it only lasts a moment.

With break-neck speed, the intense light retreats back through the grate leaving me once again in the cold darkness. What I heard next, however, froze me deeper than even the longest time in the ‘Deep-Freeze’ cell could. Another voice.

“No canines shall keep us from our friend, even the strongest shall perish in our path. Valkyries Cloud and Silent, with me. We shall continue our search!” A feminine voice, raw with command, flits into my ears. One that I recognize, but can’t for the life of me place.

‘Could… could they be looking for me? But that’s…’

“Understood.” Two more voices sound out, just beyond the walls of my ‘home’. The bubbling feeling in my chest is growing more intense than before, I might even start to label it as uncomfortable to be honest. But it’s still a feeling I welcome with open arms! It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything like it…

The clanking of metals is loud in my ears. Even beyond the door, I can hear it quite well. What’s even more obvious than the sound of metal is the fact that it belongs to hoofsteps. I can even count three pairs, if I’m in a bragging mood. How flattering that they’d deign it important to stop directly in front of my door.

A familiar tinge of blue energy overtakes the thick steel door, and with a hefty creak it crumples like a simple piece of paper. Bolts, once holding the door to the wall, eject from their anchorage points and clank heavily to the cold floor as even more light floods into my room. Thankfully not as intense as the odd burst from earlier, I don’t even have to squint before I’m well adjusted to the light of the torch being held through the naked doorway. Beyond even that, stands the silhouette of my savior. The Goddess of the Night.

“You came for me… I guess that means ya weren’t just a dream, then.” I can barely grind even that out. It’s been so long since I’ve spoken that my throat nearly catches fire as I speak, my unused vocal cords even worse for wear than I remember them. Despite the marginal discomfort I feel from finally using my own voice, I don’t let it distract me from studying the mare in the doorway. Rich fur is accented by what can only be described as a ‘Battle Dress’, as odd as that sounds to me. Plated, polished steel completely encompasses her ribs and chest in what seems to be a half-cuirass, her collarbone and neck protected by what looks like an armored brooch of the same type sporting the etching of a crescent moon. Under that is a bleached gown of chainmail, only sparse sections of black fabric woven through it reaching to her knees. Hooves armored entirely in polished steel, only her upper thighs remain visible and free of protection. A perfectly proportioned face greets me, marred with concern, and topped with a rather princessly tiara and an ethereal waterfall of a mane, easily as unique as the night sky itself in every way. Even her tail, matching in every way her mane, is perfectly placed to be visible to me.

“Stoney! We-I… what have they done?” She says, sounding absolutely dumbstruck by the sight of me. Her eyes are wide, obviously scanning me over for injuries as she begins to clank her way towards me. Even with my intense desire to thank her until my voice is lost, I can’t help but be a bit snide. It’s kinda in my blood.

“What do ya mean? A couple of enchanted shackles never hurt nopony.” A raspy chuckle follows my own joke, even if I didn’t think it was too funny.

“You know we don’t mean the shackles, Slagmore! We’re referring to those-those nails!” Enraged already, are we? I guess I should wait a bit before trying to make any jokes… it seems I may have lost what little touch I had.

On another, much more depressing note… I actually have to look down at myself to figure out what the mare gritting her teeth at me is talking about. I… can’t remember anymore. The sight that greets me, however, instantly jogs my memory.

“My gifts from the Monarchy… how could I forget.” I’m barely audible to myself, but with a Goddess at my front I heavily doubt my burst of audible thought went unnoticed. Tearing through either of my sides are a pair of quite sizable squared metal spikes. Each measuring in at about 5 1/2 inches and nearly half an inch thick, many would find these to be uncomfortable to have lodged between their ribs. Once, before they were crusted brown with rotten blood, they proudly displayed intricate runes inlayed into the black iron with platinum. The highly polished pieces have long since tarnished beyond recognition… but that didn’t make them ineffective.

Not in the least.

The two spikes weren’t a lonesome couple, either. Joining them were three other like-minded couples, each thoroughly driven into both of my opposing biceps, shoulders, and even my thighs. Even though I already knew the answer, I couldn’t help but marvel at how anypony could possibly grow numb to such a sensation. It was nothing more than a fleeting thought however as I wrenched my head back up to the royalty in the room. I can make out how carefully calm Luna is presenting herself. But as they say, even the strongest players have tells.

Her embarrassingly obvious one is her furrowed eyebrows, more or less spelling out how she feels about the sight of me. Worried? For lil’ ol’ Stoney? How flattering.

“Just deal with these here shackles for me, Luna. I think I’m due for a nice stretch.” I really can’t help myself, can I? Damn.

Maybe being locked in a dungeon for a while had a bigger impact on my interpersonal skills than I thought. Who knew?

“Should be easy for us, dear subject…” The already heavy light was then joined by a tinge of color, courtesy of the night goddess as she flares her magic. I have to admit, watching a certifiable master of mana focus on cracking something as magically encrypted as these manacles I’d been left hanging by is surprisingly intimidating. The utter concentration resting on the face of the mare in the room imbibes me with a feeling of… comfort? Resignation, maybe? Realization…?

‘Ya know, it’s moments like these that I can’t help but wonder if those odd ‘mind-healer’ mock-ups Kure-All couldn’t stop raving about ever took off… I gotta be down with a case of Mania if I think the full attention of somepony that could accidentally liquefy steel is something to be happy about.’ I can’t imagine that any mind-healer out there has enough experience to deal with my own problems, though. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part.

…

…right? If-

Gracefully interrupting my thought, a metallic crunch echoes through the stone room. It grates at my poor ears as it continues, but stops as suddenly as it started. Cold air rushes onto the fur of my hands for the first time in what feels like a very long while, and my hooves are introduced to my own weight once more. Quickly casting my gaze at the once ever-lasting shackles that held me, I’m actually a bit surprised by Luna’s handiwork despite myself. Along each and every seam, carving, and rune the metal was curled up like paper, charred black and rendered incredibly useless in every sense of the word. I manage to flick my eyes back to the goddess just as she continues herself.

“And as they say, ‘it was a piece of cheesecake’ subject!” A piece of what? Even if I don’t know what ‘cheesecake’ means, I’m sure it must be a good thing. It couldn’t really be anything but a good thing, if that smug face is anything to go by. As she’s surely mentally congratulating herself, I go about wrapping my large hand around the protruding mass of the nail in my left side. I barely hear Luna continue as I set about my work.

“Now comes the easy part of removing those-”

*SQUUEELCH*

A big, hideous sound cuts the ruler off, and the dripping that follows has her attention easily. Apparently it even caught the attention of the backup, if the slight shuffling outside the door is any indicator. Looking down at the spike in my hand, I can’t help but notice the built up barrier of dried blood, then leading into gleaming red. Fresh. I set the fancy paperweight onto the table at my side with a clank and move my hand on to the next, finding purchase on the exposed metal once more.

“I believe you said ‘piece of cheesecake’?” I can’t help but give off a deep, crunching laugh at my own half-flanked joke, my eyes crinkling up in amusement and shoulders bouncing from the sheer thunder in my chest. As my laughter calms down enough for me to see her again, I find her jaw is dropped. Eyes wide, looking directly at the hole in my side.

*SQUUEELCH*

Holes. I now mean holes in my sides.

“Wha- what do you think you’re doing?” Is that a question? Not sure I understand what she’s talkin’ about.

*SQUUEELCH*

There’s a bicep.

“Just takin’ out a couple splinters, Goddess.” I’m a bit busy here, if you can’t tell.

*SQUUEELCH*

Another bicep.

“It’s… fairly disturbing to see you do such a thing with a straight face like that. You have to feel that… right?” Her face is contorted in an odd form of worry, which doesn’t really surprise me. Most would have a look of disgust, but like myself, she’s not most. This mare has mastered entire battlefields, so a little blood shouldn’t do much for her.

*SQUUEELCH*

Both shoulders. Starting to feel a bit better, at this point!

“Barely. At most I’d call it tingly, if anything. You have nothing to worry about, Luna. I’m completely fine.” I grind out. I have this feeling I’m gonna be getting a lot of practice with my voice if Luna sticks around. With how unused it is, it’s actually feeling like a pretty good work out… that’s depressing.

*SQUUEELCH*

Thighs, check. With a corresponding clunk, they’re left on the table in the room with all the others. I can’t help but feel a bit excited at having those out of me, after so long. Taking the time to finally stretch, I enjoy every second of my newfound freedom. Rolling my shoulders and reaching out my arms I let loose a deep rumble from my chest.

A cacophony of pops and heavy crunches assault my ears as I stretch my back, and without reservation I pretty much growl in contentment. Throughout all this, I haven’t quite been idle in thought.

Without a word of my plan to my saviour, I crouch down so as to better reach the bottom shelf of the lone piece of furniture. I go about running my hands over the items littering it’s surface, muttering to myself all the while.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which is kinda a 50/50 chance at best, you should be somewhere around heeeere… gotcha, you’re mine now.” Getting a grip on the item I raise back up to my full height and take hold of all eight nails with my free hand. I deposit them in my brand new burlap sack and, wanting to waste no more time, turn to and begin a short trek to my rescuer. As I get closer, I can’t help but notice the concern on her face getting more and more clear. Wonder what’s the matter?

“What’s the matter?” Shit. I thought I was supposed to have some kinda brain-to-mouth filter? Hope that doesn’t happen too often… I could get in some serious trouble with the kinda words that I say in my head…

“There are a lot of things we’re- I’m concerned about right now. First of which is are you okay? That was a lot of damage…” She trails off, eyeing my wounds with a critical eye.

Flattering.

“I’m fine. Nothing but a flesh wound, it’ll heal Goddess-er, Luna!” I have to ‘correct’ myself mid-sentence as she narrows her eyes at my own. I may be ‘friends’ with her, but she can still accidentally vaporize shit. I don’t wanna make her angry. Seriously.

“If you say so… you’ll still be patched up on our way back to Canterlot, even if you think you’re fine. I won’t have the pony I went through the trouble of saving die from something as mundane as blood-loss. That would just be embarrassing, truly.” Damn, she’s really got her priorities in order. Words sting too, ya know.

Her eyes flick quickly to my new luggage, once again meeting my eyes with an unasked question which I’m only too happy to answer.

“The nails?” A sharp nod is thrown my way, adding to my theory that she’s confused as to why I’m bringing them along. Good thing I have the answer, isn’t it? “Well, these ‘nails’ actually have a pretty interesting place in history, at least before they became my tenants. All eight of these spikes are a part of a complete set, and are the only ones like them in the entire world. In their creation, the black iron body was forged by the greatest blacksmith the Diamond Dogs had ever known, later to become ‘royalty’ himself, and quenched in dragon’s blood. They were then passed on to the possession of the ‘High Priestess’ and encrypted with blessed platinum in runic patterns that they stole in their cultures many raids on ponykind. In the end, they managed to make a set of artifacts that are capable of sealing magic. The fact they didn’t blow themselves up in the process is fuckin’ awe-inspiring.” My rusted voice comes to a slow halt as I take in the rather blank look on my saviors face, which I’m pretty sure I understand. Hearing someone with my voice ‘lecture’ is pretty… unsettling.

Let’s simplify it.

“To say it in a different way… I want them. They’re mine now.” I say smoothly, getting an exaggerated eye-roll from the princess. With a bit of a chuckle myself, I continue.

“So… ladies first?” This gets a rather unladylike snort from her as she turns and walks out the door with all the grace one would expect from royalty like her. I follow suit.

The area outside of my cell is vaguely familiar, even though it has been quite some time since I last saw it. Through my escape attempts in the past, I’m left unfazed by the wide corridor and line of torches that greets me. While I’m taking in the passage for the first time in… maybe hundreds of years, a low whistle from my side catches me off guard. Snapping my entire body quickly to face the area it came from, I finally lay my eyes on two ponies that could only be the ‘Cloud’ and ‘Silent’ that I heard of earlier.

Honestly? I’m not disappointed.

Standing before me are two mares measuring out at what I could guess to be 6 feet tall. Both are wearing matching ashen robe chain-mail sets of armor, also wearing helmets and greaves to match the ashen white. The metal wings sprouting off the helmets of the two pegasi are more than enough for me to identify them as members of the Valkyrie, a feat that’s impressive in itself. Both were also equipped with a spear and a round shield, plain and nondescript.

That’s where the similarities end.

The one on the left was colored a very pale silver, nearing white, and a main and tail of pastel blue that was braided along the side. I could instantly tell that this particular mare has what they call ‘personality’. One hand resting on a cocked hip and the other gripping her spear in a deceivingly passive fashion, I have no choice but to acknowledge her. Her face, however, makes me just a bit… uncomfortable. She’s staring at me with an intensity that I can’t really describe in much detail, but the smile she has is easily described as ‘a bit much’.

On the right, however, is pretty much the opposite of the spectrum. Her coat is an incredibly light shade of pink, something that stands out against the browns and grays of the area with ease. Her mane and tail are a neat silky black, with her mane having neatly trimmed bangs coming even beneath her helmet to the tops of her eyes and the rest held in a waist-length ponytail. All of that is fairly normal, but her disposition is what sets her apart from her partner. Everything about her is… carefully muted. On her face is one of the most blank expressions I’ve ever seen. Even the way she holds herself is carefully crafted. In my mind, there’s no doubt that this one is Silent.

So that means the one that’s getting remarkably close to me must be young Cloud.

“So, this is the mark then, Princess?” The silver mare then walks towards me in deliberate, swaying steps, managing to shuffle to my front in mere seconds. The beaming smile on her face melts into a pleasant smirk, her purple eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she scans me up and down. When she finishes her ‘observation’, I stare back unflinchingly into her eyes. Her smirk just grows wider as she places a free hand on my chest and then trails down with a single delicate finger. “I think I understand why you wanted to come get him personally, I mean just look at these aaabs!”

As she proceeds to pretty much slobber all over me, I’m completely and utterly dumbstruck. This Cloud pony knocked me so off my game that the only thing I could do is turn to the Princess, who is busy holding her head in her hands, and utter a single question her way.

“Luna… is your Valkyrie in heat?” My voice rumbles out, confused, in the silence of the corridor.

…

The reactions were instant.

The most notable was the snort coming from the still covered Goddess. Following that, a surprising reaction from Silent. Well, surprising to me, at least. Her hand shoots up to her mouth in a fruitless attempt to stop the snicker that falls out, a light smile brightening up her face without trouble.

Then, there was Cloud. Her smirk magnified into a full blown smile, and I can pretty much see her mind working up something new… which has me unreasonably worried.

Turns out, I was right to be worried.

With an airy chuckle she holsters her spear at her side and presses herself up against me, resting her hands on my sides as she prepares her retort. As she bites her lip teasingly, I can’t help but wonder how this Valkyrie is able to get away with all of this in front of her Princess. Personal friends, maybe? Perhaps she’s just an absolute beast in a fight… I’m sure I’ll find out someday.

“If I was, you’d be the first to know it, Big Guy~!” With that, she pushes off of me… or she attempts to, at least. Instead, her hands slip. As she draws back a few steps to look at them, even in the limited light available, her palms show a heavy coating of red. While her eyes scan her hands, with a critical eye, her entire demeanor changes. The carefree air around her solidifies into a feeling of seriousness as the smile falls off her face, instead replaced with an almost practiced tightness. The face of experience, if ever I saw one. Snapping her eyes back up to mine, she doesn’t so much ask a question as she does state a fact, thinly veiled as an inquiry.

“You’re bleeding. Heavily.” There was no teasing in the voice I heard, only fact.

Impressive.

“I’m fine. A lil’ blood never hurt nopony, try not to worry ‘bout it. Let’s go.” Without even a second of hesitation, I pass the two guards and walk passed Luna. Almost unconsciously, I follow a very familiar path that I know for a fact will lead more or less to the entrance.

As they say, this ain’t my first rodeo son.

The hoofsteps echoing only slightly behind mine tells me that my war-torn princess wasn’t too impeded by my lack of respect for pain and even blood-loss. I slow my pace barely half a smidge in response, so she can catch up. Behind us, the sound of clanking metals indicate the rushing of the two Valkyries in their attempt to catch up to their ‘charges’.

“What do you mean you’re ‘fine’?! You can’t just brush off blood-loss like an insult!” Apparently, at least one of these ‘highly esteemed’ Valkyries is deaf. How odd…

“I said I’m fine. Just take my word for it, would ya?” I gruffly call out, not even stopping my gait as she catches up enough to walk alongside me, Silent doing much the same at the Goddess’ side. My gaze falls over Cloud as I trot carelessly forward, her own gaze meeting me halfway. She immediately opens her mouth to give a retort when none other than Luna herself cuts her off.

“Don’t question it, Cloud Cover. Trust my words, if not his. He’ll survive. He’s survived this long by himself, after all.” Silence falls over all four of us as we walk over the smoldering corpses in the corridor, paying little attention to them. I see, I see…

A mare after my love, it seems.

After that light admonishment, Cloud shuts up about the blood and we walk in silence. Once we near the entrance, however, somepony can’t bear to hold back their questions anymore.

Imagine my immense surprise when it’s Silent. The voice that comes from me nearly blows all of my gruffness away. Youthful, womanly, smooth, it’s hard to imagine why she would ever be named silent… nearly as hard as her voice is to describe…

“Mr. Slagmore?” She asks, voice breaking the groups silent trek rather easily. In response, I turn to her, doing nothing more than raising a single eyebrow in her direction. Smartly deciding to take this as her cue, she continues.

“When we got you out of the room, you started walking as if you already knew your way out… why is that?” A smart question… best to answer honestly.

“That’s because I did know how to get out.” Ignoring the slight narrowing of Luna’s eyes, I continue. “I’ve made many escapes in the past. Many of those escapes were successful. Thing is, no matter how many times I vanished from my cell and into the tundra… I could never find my way to the Emerald Empire. No matter how far I traveled, I couldn’t find anything. Most times after I’d failed, I’d get frozen over and awake back in my cell. Back in captivity all because I couldn’t find the only pony civilization this entire snow range has to offer.” I pause only long enough to give a heavy, throaty sigh before continuing, almost losing myself to the memory. “Eventually they got more creative than just a boarded up wooden door or some basic metal shackles. They got their filthy paws on all sorts of magical artifacts, some more rare than others. Shackles crafted to be stronger than steel, chains made to drain somepony’s strength, even horseshoes enchanted to burn the wearer. Most of them broke. These… well they didn’t.” I finish by rattling the bag of nails I’m still holding, gaining a passing interest in the sound from Silent. Luna, the cheeky mare, wasn’t even fazed. Cloud, however, has a peculiar look on her face. Almost like-

“That’s interesting and everything Stoney, but you mind telling us why you were the only pony in this entire damn complex?” Fuck, looks like I called it.

“Well, it’s because this entire complex was used specifically to house me.” She has a knack for asking easy questions, it seems.

A pregnant silence encompasses the area after that, the only sound being hoofsteps, both armoured and bare. Until it was broken once more, that is.

Silences never last long around these ponies… do they?

A crunch underneath my hoof shocks me out of my mind as I shoot my gaze down. In my haste, I’m greeted with… snow? As it turns out, while I was stuck reminiscing my tales for these three ladies, we’d managed to scale the entirety of the base’s main path. This leaves us at the simple entrance, bored into the side of Mount Chili-Aid, and leaves me nearly blinded by the untainted white before me. Encompassing all that I see is fresh, pure snow. Only briefly interrupted by a regal carriage, complete with Flyer detail, the sight of this deceptively beautiful tundra could bring a spark to even the coldest of hearts.

But none came.

“Why?”

“Hm?” I answer back elegantly. Breaking out of my reverie and the sight before me to turn ever so slightly, as to view the speaker, and I see Luna. Flanking her are Silent and Cloud, both wearing thoughtful expressions even if the pink mare’s is much more… ‘subtle’. Thankfully, my masterpiece of inquiry is successfully interpreted by the Goddess and she elaborates.

“Why would they put so much effort into keeping only you in this entire base? What happened to you, Stoney?”

I’ve always liked the snow. It blankets everything, casting a facade of purity on everything it touches. I turn fully towards my three saviors, the snow crunching and deforming heavily beneath my large hooves. As I look into the eyes of the curious, the unforgiving wind of the tundra I’ve called ‘home’ for so many decades whips my thick hair about wildly, even carrying off the light fog from my breaths.

“I asked the guards that, once. After my first escape, while they were dragging my nearly frozen body back to my cell, I yelled out at every dog I passed. ‘Why me’, I asked them. Eventually, one of them answered.” I can’t help but let my gaze fall to the blinding white at my hooves, lost in my memory yet again. “A young mutt, stark gray and full of pride answered me. His answer was articulate in every way, knocking me off my game immediately. He grabbed me by the face, and lifted me only inches from his own. Then he spoke.”

I shoot my eyes back to theirs, all three observing me with rapt attention.

“’All those that wish to be King… to rule in any sense of the word, must come here. To be considered at even the basest level… one must feast upon the flesh of the undying, of legend. The flesh… of you.’ That is what he said to me, word for word. The next day, he was gone. Not one more time did the guards ever speak to me again beyond orders.” The gravel of my voice is easily distinguished beyond the howling of the wind, and the looks on the three mare’s faces are indescribable. Wide-eyed, surely.

“They kept me as a right of passage. Fucking livestock. And I always got ‘better’. Every time…”

I don’t wait for a response. I don’t want one. I just turn around and make my way to the carriage, ready to be free from this intense chill I’ve persisted in for so long.

Where I was standing, the snow ran red with taint… no longer pure in any way.

Author's Note

I'm back baby.

Took a while cuz i got busy with stuff... sorry? Accept my apology. Do it.

Anyway, I put a metric fuck-ton of exposition and introduced a couple waifus, so tell me what you think if you feel like it. I'm pretty happy with how this chapter turned out, honestly.

As a sidenote, if you decide to make art of my story I'll take it and hang it up on my fridge because ur all good kids and I 'ppreciate ya.

Later spaghetti bois.

Kure-All's Cure All?

You know, I can’t remember having been on board a chariot ever before. Much less a royal one. I have to say it’s a pretty pleasant experience. Pretty cozy, really.

“HOLD SITLL, STONEY!” A significant amount of voice calls into my ear, most likely making liberal use of the ‘Royal Canterlot Voice’.

Well, pleasant for the most part at least.

“Uhm, Princess I don’t think you’re supposed to stuff gauze inside the wounds…” Cloud attempts to ‘advise’ Luna. All she got was a sharp look in return. Around 5 seconds passed before the Princess verbalized her thoughts.

“We think we know a little more about dressing a wound than you might, Cloud Cover.” She scoffs towards her subordinate. “Exactly how many wars have you been in again? Besides, we’re confident he’s feeling better already! Isn’t that right, stallion?” She turns back to me, looking with big eyes at me and nearly beaming with pride at the results of her ‘help’.

I don’t know if I can just crush her like this. I mean… it’s not like I really feel it or anything, right? Should be fine, I guess.

“Yeah sure. Whatever you say, Luna.” I casually grumble in acceptance. No sense in making my savior, and my ride to civilization, feel stupid. I might regret this later though, in all honesty.

Silent just holds her head in her hands as Luna gets back to her ‘work’ of playing doctor, while Cloud rolls her eyes. As the not-quite-painful tingling kicks back in, I can’t help but see a bit of a different pony in her. Can’t help but be reminded.

Can’t help but remember…

“Hey Kure-All, are you in right now?” I call out loudly as I thrust open the simple wooden door. Nothing much more than blank wood, only decorated with a sign stating this building is ‘Kure-All’s Cure All’. I can’t help but linger at the sign, as I do every time I come by. He can come up with some genius ideas, but can’t manage to name something to save his own damn life.

A real tragedy, in my opinion.

In response to my shout, a shattering is heard in the back rooms of the building, followed by a loud ‘FUCK’ and quick trotting. I’ve always been curious what he does in those back rooms, but I’m not stupid enough to find out. He hasn’t had that fuckin’ pony skeleton forever, after all. Not to mention all the other weird shit he has in his house.

A curtained doorway is snapped aside as a tall grassy green stallion strides through into the main room. One look at him and he could easily be called lanky by anyponies standards, his aqua blue mane and tail stand out against the knee length white jacket he’s wearing. With a winning smile he poses for his new customer and shoots off his tag line.

“Welcome to Kure-All’s Cure All! If I can’t fix it, I’m pretty sure the leeches can handle it just fi- Stoney? The fuck are you doin’ back here, mate?” His shoulders droop along with his tag line as he notices just who I am. I’ve known this jackass for as long as he’s been around, and in all that time he’s maintained a surprisingly steady level of insanity.

He’s a good kid.

“You should know why I’m here by now, fucko. Got my hand shredded to shit again so I came here to see if I need stitches. Just the regular.” I inform him, for what feels like at least the 4th time this week.

Maybe he’s got amnesia?

“Again? Maybe you oughta slow down a bit there, Stoney. I can’t see why you train yourself so hard that you break bones and bleed fuckin’ everywhere.” He moms at me, already walking towards a table swamped with papers and various boxes. I follow without hesitation.

“There’s always a reason, Kure. Nopony knows when something could attack, and somepony has to be ready to fight.” I argue back stubbornly. If nopony else wants to be prepared, then fine. I’ll just have to pick up the slack.

Simple as that.

“Okay, sure. But an attack from what exactly? Discord got taken out by those two rainbow flinging moppets almost a year ago, mate. Most of his little monsters even disappeared after his defeat!” He pauses, looking at his cluttered desk. Not even seconds later his arm is pressed against the wood of the surface and sweeping across it, simply shoving all evidence of clutter onto the floor beside us. Looking on at a ‘job well done’, he wipes his hands on his jacket and turns back to me with an expectant look on his face.

“Well? Let’s see the damage you’ve done, then.”

Good enough, I guess. Hovering my wrapped up hand over the table, I begin unraveling piece by piece the red-stained strip of cloth. As I do, Kure-All watches intently as ever, proving his quality once more as an actual doctor. Odd he may be, but his skills are never in question. Once I drop the cloth to the table’s surface, Kure grabs my wrist and brings it closer to his eyes, inspecting the various scratches, cuts and skinned knuckles that greet him. For a solid half-minute he observed, seconds ticking by like hours before he lets my wrist go and looks me in the eyes with his own yellow gaze.

“So waddya think, Doc?” He only takes a deep breath before giving me his oh so ‘professional opinion’.

“What the fuck is this pussy shit, Stoney? You already know what to do with a couple paper cuts like this. Just run a bit o’ ale over it and you’ll be good to go.” He’s narrowing his eyes, that’s not good.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sorry.” I lie magnificently.

“Did you just use this as another excuse to come here so we can go drinking again, you sneaky bastard?” Shit, he’s on to me.

“Of course not. I was just worried about my health. Wait, I’ve got a great idea! Hows about we go and celebrate at the pub, since I’m not gonna get my arm amputated?” With my master plan in place, I turn around and begin a path to the door, and subsequently, the pub.

“I wouldn’t get in quite so high spirits just yet, mate. I might have to saw it off anyway if you keep being such a fuckwit.” Yeah, he may talk a whole lotta shit, but the sound of hooves slapping the wooden floor behind me don’t lie.

Towards the ale we ride!

“The pub sure hasn’t changed at all.” I say thoughtlessly, taking in the sight of the tavern with pride. In our little town we don’t have much. The most remarkable thing, to an outsider, would probably be the massive pair of waterfalls that live near the river. Dropping from high above the scale of the purple rock, they have a silver-like sheen as they fall into the pools below the town’s perch. It’s certainly beautiful, that I won’t argue with.

However, I don’t think it’s the best. That, would have to be the bar!

A local dive might not seem like that big a deal to ponies from larger settlements, but to the ponies here it’s like home. Everyone gets along with everyone at the bar, and nobody is ever left unhappy at the end of the night.

It’s also the town’s safe house, but something within me is saying the ale is more important right now.

“It’s only been a couple days since we’ve been here, you daft cunt. What did you expect?” A snide Kure-All teases from right beside me. The cheeky fuck is looking at me with a smirk like I’m not going to get him back for that.

…

I was always taught to give as good as I get.

“Anyone ever tell you ya have the mouth of a sailor, ya smug bastard?”

“Only every betty I’ve ever met. What’s that make you?”

Son of a whorse, the ass got me again.

Just as I’m about to respond in kind once more to his smartass mouth, something out of place catches my attention. Something big. My ears perk up, and I can feel my face go entirely stone solid from pure concentration.

“Do you hear that? Listen.” I ask Kure, netting myself a rather confused look from the stallion in question. As he stares at me, gradually his ears perk up too. Together we listen as whatever is making this sound gets louder and louder. Starting off with nothing more than a low buzzing, it would be easy to write of as a bug, such as a cicada or something similar. As it grew louder, however, that obviously wasn’t the case. The buzzing became infinitely deeper, but scratchy in its own way. The only sound I could compare it to is the dragging of several hundred pounds of furniture over polished stone. Next, it became ear-crushingly loud. Omnipresent would be a good way to describe the sheer volume it had. The sound permeated everything around us, and seemed to come from everywhere at once. In my panicked mind, the only thing I could think was that the sky was tearing itself apart. Just as blood started to trickle between the clenched fingers around my ears…

The sound was gone. Nothing left but a high pitched ringing, which itself soon faded into obscurity.

One look at Kure-All told me he experienced the exact same thing, but he didn’t look back at me. I followed his gaze, leading me to stare directly at the waterfalls that were our village’s namesake. What I saw nearly stopped my heart. The falls, they weren’t quite… normal. While ordinarily they might shimmer in the light, falling at quite a breakneck pace in a consistent stream… that’s not what was happening.

Before my very eyes, the waterfalls shuddered. Wobbled in place, in such a way that nothing about it could possibly be natural. Then came the steam. Random pockets of the falling water seemed to disappear without warning, instead evaporating and replaced with fleeting steam.

The wobbling worse and worse, and I had to use every ounce of my will to break into action. Taking a hold of myself with a vicious shake of the head, I rapidly turn to face Kure-All who’s still staring slack-jawed at the strange affairs before us. In a single stride I am within grappling distance, and I grab his shoulders and shake. With a single slap, just for good measure, his attention is back on me and I go about procedure.

After all, no sense in letting all my training be for naught, right?

“Kure, I need you to gather up every citizen you can find and shove them in the safe house. You know the drill, right?”

“O’ course I do. By heart, even. You wouldn’t let me tune out while you were lecturing me any of the 50+ times you went over it. Kids are priority, adults should know what to do by now but still be looked out for. Take any weapons or medical supplies with you into the bunker. That about right?” He recites to me. Even serious situations have no hold over his sailor speech, it seems. Good.

“Perfect, now go!” I set his shoulders free and prepare to dash off to my cabin, but find myself grabbed instead. Quickly wrapping his arms around me, he brings himself in for a hug. Shocked as I am, I can’t do anything until he lets go and looks me in the eyes. What he says next makes me well up with pride I haven’t felt in quite some time.

“Don’t die playing hero out here, Dad. I don’t know what the village would do without you here to play that part for everypony.”

And with that, he’s off. Off to do his part, like everypony else in the village.

As much as I wished to revel in the feeling of the moment, the pride I felt for my surrogate son, I knew I couldn’t afford to. I have to settle for burning the moment into my memory as I turn and sprint to my cabin in search of weapons and protection.

‘Whatever that noise was, whatever just happened to the waterfalls, it’s painfully obvious it wasn’t natural. Not in the slightest sense of the word. This isn’t just a temporary moment of insanity thanks to residual draconequus power, this is a ‘Breach’. That spells nothing good for any of us.’

So wrapped up I was in my own thoughts, I didn’t get the chance to admire the proud sign of stone that sat smack in the middle of the village as I ran passed it. Carved in to the stone was a simple name, but one with a lot of love behind it. Pride, in our shitty little hovel, even.

The words on the stone read non other than ‘Silver Agro Falls’, as it had for years prior.

A hand firmly being placed on my shoulder manages to snap me out of my thoughts, and thankfully bring me back into the real world. My head frantically swivels around the carriage, worried about just how… absorbed… I became. To my shock, the carriage door was open, and the only one in here with me just so happened to be Silent. The pink mare was staring into my eyes, obviously wanting to ask about what exactly managed to keep my attention for so long.

Immediately I open my mouth and prepare to grasp for whatever excuse comes to mind. To my surprise, however, it seems I don’t need to. Lifting her hand off my shoulder, she reaches up and closes my agape mouth for me, shaking her head in a negative all the while. When she lets go, she wipes my cheek and pulls her hand back. It’s wet, shiny in the daylight.

I... was crying? This whole time….?

“You were out for the whole ride.” She speaks quietly, voice soft. “We’ve landed at Canterlot Castle, and Luna finished her bit of doctor play while you were… out of it. We’re about to meet with the Princess’ sister, so I’d wipe off those tears. Maybe some of the blood, too.” With that she gets up and heads to the door of the carriage, only to stop just at the opening. Without turning to me, she decides to continue. “I won’t ask what you were remembering, but I’ll tell you this. The Princess was worried about you. All three of us were worried. Try not to do that too often, if you can help it.” As she prepares to exit the claustrophobia machine, I catch myself feeling the need to say something.

Anything.

“Silent.” I catch her attention. Calling someone’s name tends to do that pretty easily. “Thank you.”

A simple nod of her head answers me. Then she’s gone, out the door of the carriage, and I’m assuming I’m the next one in line.

‘I think I’ve decided I like that Silent filly. She’s a good kid.’ I think to myself.

I stretch my back out from my slouch, gaining a few good pops and a satisfied groan for my efforts. I look down at my lap, and the loosely threaded cloth that can barely be considered trousers that cover it. Deciding that a single strip of cloth won’t be missed, I rip just that from the rags that cover me and wipe my face as thoroughly as I possibly can. The fact that the piece of cloth has been dirty for decades probably doesn’t work in my favor, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

I hope so.

Leaning down to the floor of the carriage I snatch up the burlap sack containing my souvenirs and toss the strip of cloth to the side before standing up. Well, as much as one can in a flying jar. In three steps I’m out of the open door and officially on royal ground. In two more staggering steps, my jaw has damn near literally hit the spotless stone beneath my hooves.

‘Massive’ was really the first thing that came to mind, as I observed the sheer size of the castle before me. Quickly coming in second would probably have to be ‘expensive’. Nearly nothing could garner my attention in the moment as I drank in the sight of Canterlot itself.

Enormous spires of rich gold, heavenly marble, and some spots even accented with Royal Blues and Purples! That’s truly impressive in my eyes because back in my day, only royalty might ever see cloth that rich in color. I’m not sure if times have changed in that regard, but it catches my admiration none the less. The balance of the spires and even most of the main buildings look purely chaotic to me, but I can say without a doubt in my mind that they were crafted and birthed from the minds and hands of some of the most ingenious architects to ever breath.

Or I’m just too stupid to understand it. Either one is possible, really.

Tearing my gaze away, I spot my companions… saviors… easily enough and begin my walk towards them. There, Luna faces the flight of stone steps leading up to a massive set of guarded doors with a thoughtful look. Beside her stand the two Valkyries, looking at the Princess patiently. When I arrive I send a questioning glance towards Cloud, who just shrugs in response and goes back to watching.

“Seems I’m left with no choice…” I mutter to myself, surprisingly not gaining the attention of Luna’s hearing by doing so. With only a few seconds of thought, I’ve managed to come up with a plan that’s sure to work!

And be entertaining at the same time. The fun has been doubled.

Slowly, carefully reaching out with my left hand, I let it rest directly beside her left ear. Forming the classic position with my middle finger and thumb braced against each other, I pause only to give her the slightest of warnings.

“Whatchya thinking about, Luna?” I gravel out at her, barely getting an ear twitch for my efforts.

‘That’s it!’ And with that thought I let the fingers slide. A loud, resounding POP was the result. With big, meaty hands like mine, a snap could be likened to a mini smack of thunder. All of that, right next to her ear.

The reaction was worth the risk of accidentally getting liquefied. Maybe.

A massive twitch takes over her poor left ear as she snaps her head towards me, staring in wide-eyed surprise. Staring at me, her mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she shakes her head, an obvious attempt to clear out any shock still left. She straightens up and clears her throat, then begins reciting what I’m sure she was saying in her head.

“Ahem, so… here’s what we shall do. We’ve managed to arrive around noon, so day court will doubtlessly be in full swing at the moment. Naturally, however, we feel we should check in with our sister immediately. With how Celestia gets, I’m sure if we are gone for much longer she’ll raze the country to the ground ‘accidentally’ in an effort to find us… maybe start a war.” She trails off for a moment after that.

…

There’s no way one of the rulers of Equestria could possibly be so irresponsible, right? Can’t be, if it was that bad I’m sure everyone would be dead by now or something, possibly just enslaved by another race though. Gotta keep your options open.

“But that’s a story for another time.” Oh, she’s back with us. “We believe the best course of action is to simply storm the court room. Those nobles can shove it, for all we care. Besides, I’m sure once they see their Princess waltz in with two Valkyries and a massive, bandaged, and nearly naked stallion they’ll clear the way.” She finished with a nod to herself, sure of her own plan with the utmost confidence.

‘Personally, I don’t think this’ll work out too well. On the other hand, I think I’ll just apply the classic ‘Fuck It Adjustment’ and go along with it. Seems entertaining.’ That last bit of thought made me pause. ‘I’ve been saying that a lot… am I bored or something?’

…

Fuck it. It’s easy, see?

Coming out of my mind and back into the real world was marginally alarming. Seems while I was debating if I should stop Luna or not the three mares had started walking towards the stairs already. Without me.

A tragedy in the making, surely.

So with a pep in my step I trot after them, managing to catch up in only a few quick strides and find myself in front of the steps, already making my way up them. By simply kicking up the speed, I manage to worm my way between Luna and Cloud so I don’t look like some creepy naked stallion following the Princess and instead look like I came here with them.

Smart, right?

Not even a full minute passed before we all stand in front of the massive gold plated doors leading to the court, and apparently the other half of the Diarchy. The four guards on detail at the doors send a collective nod our way and stand aside, almost like this has happened before. Honestly, I can see Luna getting bored and going off to annoy her sister during court pretty easily. It’s not particularly a stretch for my imagination. I’m left with a feeling of nostalgia as the doubtlessly expensive doors before me are washed over with a blue aura, distorting the view like a heat wave. A quick glance at Luna confirms that it’s her doing, as the horn on her head is lit up with the same hue of mana.

Gotta be honest, as I turned and looked at the massive doors I couldn’t help but notice a tiny rebellious part of me want to see those doors get crushed much like my cell door. The rest of me, however, wanted them to stay pristine. They’re worth more that way.

Thankfully, it seems my anarchistic inner voice has no sway on Luna. With great ease the doors swing open, revealing the inside for all to see. What I saw, however, was a wave of colors. Greens, pinks, whites and every other shade I could possibly name were present in the form of ponies, most likely nobles here for this ‘day court’. As one they turn to look at us, sneers aplenty and ever lasting. However, I’m not looking at them. No, not quite.

Instead I find myself gazing at the second half of the set. From the door of the massive room lay a rich carpet, lined with golden trim. At the end of that carpet, lay a throne, and on that throne sat Princess Celestia. A truly massive mare, I can tell even sitting down that she would measure easily to 7 and a half feet tall. Pure white skin, only interrupted by a regal, simple white dress which accented the rainbow of pastels that made up her mane and tail easily.

She cuts an impressive figure as a leader, I’ll give her that.

As a group, we begin walking through the room, following the rather straight path of the carpet at our hooves. Instead of the rabble that’s typical of nobility, the room remains calmly quiet. A bit unsettling, but ultimately nothing to worry about. Nearing halfway to the throne, Luna ‘makes herself known’ as if she hadn’t already burst through the door with a pair of Valkyries and a bloody nearly-naked stallion.

“SISTER! WE HAVE RETURNED FROM MOUNT CHILI-AID VICTOURIOUS!” She announces proudly, brimming with pride.

“Yes, yes dear sister. I’m glad you’ve returned unharmed!” She responds in a motherly tone, a sweet smile on her face. “Dear subjects, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut the day court here. My sister and I have things we must discuss. Guards, close the doors after they’ve left.” Some rather loud and obnoxious mutterings of protest were heard around the court from the nobles, but ultimately they didn’t outright deny the Princess’ request for recess. Even as the nobility drains out of the room, the four of us continue walking closer to the throne, and the Goddess that remains sat upon it. Surprisingly, we don’t stop walking at the stairs leading to the slight uplift the throne is sat upon. Instead, we end up standing almost directly before the white mare.

Thing is, said mare’s pink eyes are busy burning a hole through my face right now, and that motherly smile I spied on her face is now gone. Slipped right off her face. It’s not a good feeling to get stared at like this, if you’re wondering…. but I have fuck-all to hide, so I stare right back at her. The silent battle between pink and green eyes rages, obvious only to the two participants, it would seem. The sparks continued to fly between us until a loud clank echoed around the richly decorated room, without a doubt the sound of the doors being closed.

Leaving me alone with nopony other than royalty and guards. Gotta say, I didn’t really expect this out of my day, but… I’m not disappointed quite yet. An odd feeling, really.

As soon as the doors were closed Celestia rose from her throne, coming even closer to all of us. Thankfully the Princess was the one to break our staring contest, instead shifting her gaze to her sister. Luna seems to somehow be immune to the intensity of the look being thrown her way, kinda obvious she doesn’t feel it seeing as she’s still brimming with pride at her sister. Then like lightning, Celestia’s arm vanished and a light smack was heard.

Turning to Luna, I easily discern the culprit of the sound. Celestia had slapped Luna across the face, her hand-cradled cheek an obvious indicator.

“Do you know how worried I was, Lulu?” The white mare mutters at her, eyebrows now furrowed in frustration. I’m not exactly liking this.

“Worried? For what reason would you have to worry?! We informed you exactly what we were doing, how could you be worried? We even thought to bring the Valkyrie with us!” ‘Lulu’ argues at her, rightfully pissy from the slap.

“So marching in the the dining room and bouncing around yelling about trapped friends and Diamond Dogs counts as an explanation? For all I know, you were talking about that Final Fantasy game you enjoy so much.” Oh fuck, I think Celestia is mom-ing her sister right now. She has her hands on her hips in the classic mom pose! Any thoughts of intervening immediately evaporate from my mind at that revelation. I may be one supremely ballsy stallion, but getting in the middle of a mare’s wrath isn’t exactly on my bucket list.

Seriously.

“Well… when you say it like that… I guess we have no choice but to apologize, Sister.” Looking a bit ashamed at hearing her actions out loud, her gaze falls to her hooves. Wow, that sure didn’t take too long at all. A good part of me thought that Luna would put up a bit more fight than that… but it’s probably for the best, honestly.

“Not only that, but now you have paperwork to do.” Luna’s face runs pale at the word, but Celestia doesn’t stop there. “Why so surprised? Did you think leading a force manned by one half of the Diarchy would be as simple as it was back in the old days? Times have changed just a bit in that regard, Lulu.” Celestia really looks like she’s reveling in Luna’s suffering right now…

‘I… fuck it I guess it’s time to nut up and step in.’ With that most eloquent of thoughts, I jump into the mouth of the manticore, so to say.

“If there’s any way I can help her with that, I’d be happy to. She saved me, after all. And personally, to boot. A little bit of paperwork is nothing compared to… well, never mind.” I grumble out at the Goddess of the Sun, bravely putting my life in the balance like no man ever should be stupid enough to do.

By getting in the middle of two sisters.

And within mere seconds that deadly pink gaze is back on me. As she’s walking over to stand directly in front of me, I can feel her eyes crawling over my body. I can see it too, but that’s not nearly as dramatic. I watch her discreetly check my rather shoddy, but love filled patch-up job and trail along my blood-matted fur, and if I’m not mistaken I saw a small twitch come over her ear. Anger, perhaps?

A question for the ages, if ever there were one. This poker-face isn’t an easy one to crack.

“Help my sister? In your state, big guy? Wrong. First, you’re gonna go to the medic and get those wounds looked at, stitched up if need be. Then, you’ll be taking a nice, loooong shower. Once you get the blood and grease off you, maybe smell a bit better, then you can help my sister with her little ‘post-siege-chores’.” She lists off to me, standing noticeably far from me as she does.

“I- actually that’s a pretty fair deal. Last time I got clean in any meaningful way was something like a few months ago, so I’d have to be stupid to pass up a free one.” I think I crinkled up involuntarily at the realization that I smell like ass while meeting royalty, but something about what I said seems to strike something in the mare before me. The piercing gaze she’s worn since I’ve arrived melts into a rather warm-hearted one. Facing Luna, she asks her one last question.

“I’m guessing you and the Valkyries can lead him to the medical ward? I have a letter to write and send off.”

“We can handle the task. We’re guessing that you’re calling the elements here?” She answers back teasingly.

“Correct. I believe they should be here for when we go a bit more ‘in-depth’ with your stallion here. There are a lot of questions that need to be answered, sister.” She answers back, already on her way out of the room. Luna still decides to nod at the statement, anyway.

“Agreed. We shall see you another time, Dear Sister.” And with that, we start walking in a different direction entirely. Trotting ever further into the maze of hallways that make up the royal castle.

That entire interaction seemed remarkably tame… to me, at least. However, despite the sheer amount of luck I doubtlessly was just blessed with, only one thing really ran through my mind at the moment.

‘I should probably pray that I didn’t accidentally get blood on that carpet… it looked really expensive.’

…

Important thoughts, truly.

Author's Note

Me VS. The Readers of This Story

...

I love you. :rainbowkiss: