Okiku's End and Beginning

by SpectralPony

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Sad, Dark
Length: 1089

The tale of a young filly's death, and the following adventures of her afterlife.

The tale of a small filly's life after death, and the adventures she has in the underworld along the way. This is Okiku's story, a small ghostly filly with an affinity for coffee and sweets, and a near boundless cheerful nature. Starting with her death, this story follows her trip through the deep underworld and the many entities she meets within.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-11-04 00:00:01 UTC

The End

The laughter of young fillies echoed in the small snow covered village. It was a humble, quiet place for the most part, the entire establishment nestled in a valley of snow and surrounded by tall mountains, majestic in their heights. Winter had come once more to the village, the ponies bustling about in their preparations for the feasts and frivolities that were to take place. Okiku ran about with the other fillies her age, cantering with delight as the proud parents watched with warm smiles. Childhood innocence. As pure as the gentle snowflakes beginning to fall upon the happy scene. If only time could stand still for just a moment and capture that happiness. The giggles of the foals that ran about without a single care. Sadly, time must move forward in it's inexorable march towards the very end. The children at play paused as quickly as their parents had as an unusual tremor was felt under hoof. The questioning silence quickly turned to murmurs of confusion and finally shouts of fright and alarm. A large group of bandits were rapidly descending upon the village, wildly sounding a cry of battle against the surprised villagers. The screams of horror echoed as frantically the mothers ran to their homes, clutching the terrified children close to their hearts in their hurry to the safety inside. The fathers went quickly to take arms, defending their families from the ruthless and bloodthirsty hordes, falling in self sacrifice as one by one the bandits claimed their lives. Okiku watched her mother pace at the window of their tiny cottage, the innocence of youth not allowing a full comprehension of the scene outside. It was only when her mother's jaw set with grim realization as she peered out the pane of glass, that she knew something wasn't right. A single tear slid down the mother's cheek as she cringed and turned away. With the onset of night, the bandit hordes lit their arrows and sent them sailing into the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. Throngs upon throngs of fiery missiles lit the night sky, plunging down like shooting stars upon the wooden shingles. The mother's eyes brimmed over with even more tears as she stepped away from the window to look at her only child. So much love within the depths of those blue eyes. The gentle never-ending love of a mother. Not a word was said as the mare scooped Okiku up and silently stole back out into the gathering darkness. Covering her daughter with the shawl from her shoulders, she carefully made her way through the midst of the hordes. Bandits and villagers clashing weapons, exchanging blow for blow one against the other. The purity of the snow no longer was visible upon the cold ground. Only the deep crimson hues of life blood spilled in the merciless onslaught. The icy winds of winter howled as the sun began a final descent and the mother and child reached the town's central well. Making a small shushing motion with her hoof at the young filly's babbles of questioning, the mother placed her precious bundle within the well's wooden bucket. She lowered it down as the two innocent eyes peeked out of the fabric of the shawl, staring back at her thinking only of this as a game.

'Hide and seek? Is mommy playing hide and seek with me?'

Another tear slid down the mother's cheek, knowing full well that she might never see her baby again in this lifetime.

.....

....

....

She was right.

One of the fiery arrows soaring through the night sky sank deep into the mother's chest as she waved her final farewell to her daughter. She slumped against  the ground near the well, the screams continuing from the other villagers as they each met their agonizing fates. The bandits sounded a cry, triumphant in their victory as they plundered the remnants of the bodies and homes and left with the intent to pillage another unsuspecting village.

All too soon, it was dark. Silent and still. The snow continued to fall on the remnants of the village, covering the dead in a burial ground of white and extinguishing the last of the lingering flames. The building smoldered, collapsing into piles of ashes one after another. These white bits of debris floated up to mingle with the snow and drift back upon the tragic scene. Only a single tiny voice could be heard, echoing among the lifeless mounds.

...'Mommy?' ....'Mommy, can I come out yet?'........'It's getting cold'...

'Mommy?'.....

A bit further away from the scene, a solitary figure lounged casually on a snow covered hill. He remained silent, waiting for the final voice to fade into oblivion before raising himself up and slowly making his way to the nearby ruins. His tattered and faded cloak billowed in the fierce winds as he walked, the hoof prints becoming nearly invisible as soon as they had been made on the snow beneath. The stone well in the now decimated town was easy to find, as it was the only structure sound enough to withstand the flames and bulk of the vicious attack. He peered into the shadowy depths of the well, tilting his head as the wind blew away his hooded cloak to reveal his inky mane. The bandages over his pale coat remained in place, shielding his eyes from any who dared look. The stranger remained silent a little longer, finally opening his mouth to grasp the rope and pull up the bucket from the dark abyss. The small bundle inside the wooden vessel remained perfectly still, a tiny white hoof and lock of teal hair peeking from the corner of the shawl. An eyebrow raised up underneath the tattered blindfold of the mysterious pony as he gently nudged the inert body with a hoof. No response.

A slight look around showed only the mounds of snow covered bodies and charred remains. Not a single soul had survived the vicious and all consuming attack. With a heavy sight, the strange entity lifted up the bundled form of the small filly, stamping a hoof to the snow as he did so. An eerie green light began to seep out of the well, the black waters whirling up and about from beneath. Not a single hesitation as he leaped into the well's depths, darkness and death being left behind on the snowy landscape as the stallion descended with the bundle to the depths of the underworld.

This is where our story begins...