Descent of the Seven

The Seven’s Fall

Written by Serene Gust

Co-written by: iAmSiNnEr

Two

The late sun clung to the sky like an overripe fruit. Soot from the nearby smelteries curled up from limestone bricks and disappeared into the bath of light, and as Twilight emerged from the mine, her eyes watered.

It was her favourite time of the year; early summer. The dry city smelled of baked stone and pine and the sun’s warmth soaked her face as she lifted her chin. When her eyes adjusted to the still-bright evening, she saw a boy that was about her age watching her from across the stone path.

Twilight stalled. She’d seen him before; the capital was small enough that she recognised most faces, and he had a carefree one that matched the contentment Twilight sensed in him. He was taller than she was, with bronze skin and eyes like smoked quartz, and he smiled at her like he knew her. Twilight felt herself smile back, her cheeks reddening.

“Faust’s blessings!” he cried out. “Will I see you at the temple this afternoon?”

She froze. Turning on her heel, she grabbed Spike’s arm. “Walk.” They sped away from the boy, who still beckoned them towards the Temple of Light.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” Spike teased.

“Sure, then I’ll tell him to shove his goddess where the sun doesn’t shine-”

“Really, Twilight?” Spike said, exasperated. “He was only being polite.”

“Just like how the goddess Faust wanted to politely smite all Mageborn?”

“He’s a Mageborn, too,” Spike argued as they melted into the crowd’s current. “Clearly a miner. Did you notice his clothes?”

“Then he’s a stupid Mageborn if he believes in the goddess,” All the handsome ones are stupid, she thought. If Queen Faust, the first in the dynasty had truly been immortalized, surely she made the stupid ones handsome just to spite Twilight.

It didn’t matter anyways. There was no time to be distracted by handsome Mageborns. She had the market to visit and supper to help with at home.

“You were so captivated for a moment,” Spike teased her. “You even blushed!”

Twilight pushed him away, “Don’t make me cuff you in Tirekian metal.”

She ignored Spike’s smugness as they hiked past mine entrances. Workers poured from them and made their way up the mountain towards the market district.

Equestria’s capital was etched into the mountain, every shop and building fashioned from granite. Queen Celestia’s palace was built into the very peak, sculpted towers frosted with Tirekian balconies. The apex of the entire city.

The rest of the city coated the mountain like snow; the city gates and the gilded Temple of Light to the east, the mining district down the north slope, and the canyon--her home--slicing through the mountain’s base to the west. Everything glistened with Tirekian metal, as though ready to melt and collect in the central canal that ran down the face of the alp, drainage and dust and sparkling minerals.

Twilight and Spike followed the canal to the crowded stalls nestled in a bowl beneath the palace. Most of those that were bartering with the street vendors were miners from the canyon, sifting through barrels of threshed wheat and baskets brimming with shriveled up fruit.

Their determination bordered on desperation; a successful haggle was the difference between food on the table or another supper of clear broth.

The stalls were surrounded by bronze-doored shops and pillars of granite. Guards normally patrolled the entrances, forcing the patrons to display a full coin purse before they could enter. They were absent today, just like in the mines.

They’ll be back, she thought, dipping her hand beneath the frayed tunic and grazing her purse. Her father would want her to barter at the stalls instead of entering one of the shops. But that would mean forfeiting…

“Cake?” Spike asked encouragingly.

Twilight nodded, knowing he could sense her nerves. “Two of us in the shop will look suspicious. I’ll meet you in the canyon.”

Spike frowned. “Let me go in.”

“You know I’ll be fine,” Twilight replied.

“Then I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Spike.” Twilight stared hard at him. “Go home.”

Spike bounced on his toes, uncomfortable, but Twilight would win. She would die on the steps of this shop before going home first. Most shopkeepers thought Mageborn loathsome, and Twilight much preferred to take the brunt of their cruelty rather than subjecting Spike to it.

Spike gave in, his shoulders sagging. “Don’t be too long, I’m starving,” he said, casting one final glance at Twilight before crossing the canal bridge home.

Twilight approached the nearest bronze door and ducked into the shop. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the low light, and she saw a candlelit sculpture of Faust in the center of the room. Twilight almost laughed. The goddess’s face was deformed with the help of the artist’s poor skill.

As in every shop she’d been in before, small Tirekian trinkets were strung along the edges of the ceiling. The shopkeeper must have paid a fortune for them. She thought of the Mageborn boy who regularly sold fake Tirekian trinkets in the market, and wondered if these were fake too.

Beneath the trinkets, a woman and a young girl in a silk dress browsed shelves stuffed with sugar-glazed pastries and imported candies. As Twilight looked at the pair, the woman’s eyes kept darting over her shoulder.

She’s used to guards, Twilight thought. How wonderful it must be to find comfort in those polished suits of armor.

Twilight was only able to glimpse at the shelves before the shop owner, dressed in a crisp linen tunic and leather apron, strode over to her. As she felt the sensation of mud dribbling down her skin, the shopkeeper’s eyes showed disgust. Her unkemptness disgusted him. Twilight stared back, forcing herself not to swipe at the dust on her cheeks.

“Can I help you?”

“I have twenty-five bits,” She proceeded to rattle off everything she wanted, allowing him to do the math for the cuts of meat and pounds of flour. The man busied himself, scurrying about to fulfill her request.

Twilight stood by the counter and waited, the child behind her chattering with glee as she and her mother made decisions on sweet rolls and toffee. Every so often, the shop owner glanced at Twilight, but his indulgent smile was laced with the kind of suspicion that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She met his smile, widening her eyes innocently.

The shop owner returned with her requested items. “Twenty-two bits,” he said, his voice void of emotion.

Twilight emptied her purse into her palm, counting out coins as he wrapped her cut of salted meat. As she held the bits out, he stalled, studying her hand.

Twilight cursed. Her hand was branded with the mark that every Mageborn was branded with when they were born, and the shop owner’s eyes were beginning to show hatred.

The shopkeeper drew himself up to his full height, and placed the items on the counter. But the shopkeeper’s calm face didn’t betray the hatred in his eyes, which told Twilight one thing: he was used to turning down Mageborn like her.

“Take your bits to the shop down the road,” he said flatly. “They’ll serve you.”

Twilight wouldn’t beg. She refused to beg. “My bits are as good as any.”

Silently, the shopkeeper plucked the items off the counter and placed them all on a shelf behind him. He turned back to her and crossed his arms, waiting for her to do or say anything, to cry and scream or shuffle out of the shop.

Twilight wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

Slowly, Twilight reopened her purse and pushed the coins back in. One fell on the ground, ringing. She bent down to pick it up, and paused.

Twilight should have been out of the door already, the shopkeeper all the wealthier. Yet here she was, crouched beneath an assortment of fake trinkets. She could still feel her powers.

It was almost too easy.

She closed her eyes and flicked her hand, focussing on the shelf near the women and the young girl, fanning her fingers and she grasped her magic.

With a crack, the shelf snapped in half, glass jars smashing against the floor. The girl screamed as the shards shot across the tile. The shopkeeper swore loudly, before racing to assess the damage.

In the chaos, Twilight quickly evaluated what was in quick reach-- rounds of cheese, three rabbits, and two unplucked pheasants hanging by their feet. No cake. Sorry, Spike. Using her magic, she grabbed them and stuffed it all into her backpack.

Above her, the fake Tirekian trinkets swayed with the commotion, useless against her.

Twilight pushed open the shop door and scrambled down the steps. She ran through the circle of outdoor carts, dodging vendors and patrons, and across the footbridge towards the shelter of the canyon.

She imagined the look on the shopkeeper’s face when he realised what she’d stolen and grinned.

He could have had her money but chose her wrath instead.