Author's Note

Ah, you've made to the final chapter of Fireflower's fanfic that goes beyond the typical oneshots made from before, a Mature one no less on the grounds this chapter deals with heavy subject matters proven to be unsuitable for those ––– you know what? Fk it; you've made it this far so there's no use in me repeating what I'd said before in the regarding the stuff I had y'all read since wintertime.

That being said, I want to say thanks again for putting up with my story this year, especially if you been reading the prequels as well since years ago: I honestly wished that I could have done this sooner, let alone finish it; of course, this chapter was the hardest because I was expecting to keep it short like the others but the length was ironically necessary to send a clear message courtesy of a certain game that was released earlier past decade.

One last thing before I sign off, I want to let y'all know since I've gone back to writing a certain character, I had to rely on some media for some inspiration, especially since this will be about Swift Foot but don't fret: it'll all be over soon enough, something I regret to say since I had so much more to write about her but had wasted far too much time trying to get out, something y'all still happen to be aware of; nevertheless, I hope it'll be passable enough to satisfy you outright.

Statuesque

If there was one thing that had proved to be noticeable, then it would be the sheer cold already beginning to envelope anything and anyone around itself; as such, there was basically nothing at all whatsoever to keep things warm and toasty. For starters, the sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel with its jet–black background lacking in any input altogether, out amongst a never stagnant void where nothingness had prevailed all throughout as is. While it was far from quiet, the monotone howls were devoid of melody and patterns alike, beating against the barren confines without rest or reprieve as they’d found themselves in an attack order due to their innumerable strength. Because of the very darkness in itself, there had been absolutely no signs of any other color out and about capable of standing up to the ongoing void, at least not without being overwhelmed completely by unbridled mischief and mayhem. Although shapeless to a fault, it wasn’t fair or right at all whatsoever to even suggest no structure therein had never been present here or there so to speak of; after all, there were some clues to suggest something took up residency already. To say the loneliness was currently filling the deadening atmosphere had just simply served as an understatement, even if a singular grain of truth had taken root previously ever since their very conception prior, not that it’d matter anyways.

“Pluto…!” a shiver had echoed, quickly scaring away the gilded silence which had once resided within the very colorless confines.

It did little, if any at all, to override any of the rather repetitious howls moving castle doctrines roundabout, past and present alike so to speak of. Before long, the softest shuffling about hadst came through in a slightly reckless abandon, lower and quieter than a careless whisper all the while. Although the very sounds continued onward, the noise pollution as of this moment in time failed to garner a stronger reaction, organic or otherwise. Still, the soft scuffling of surface areas between two flat materials now betrayed what little hadst remained of the serenity in this cold cruel world. At the very least, complete silence was already returning to the real world, despite being lacking in dominion as far as the drones were concerned.

Nevertheless, a low and husky sigh broke on through the sidelines after many minutes passed, followed by some quick and quiet footfalls against the flat textures as a singular flick was made, bathing the naked space in heat and photons as it’d became instantly identified in all due time. The ceiling above had served as the direct source of illumination, a lonely lightbulb shielded by a dome in the midst of a rotating quartet no less: since it’d been already a few yards away from what had lain underneath at the very furthest, safety was but a guarantee all the very worthwhile. With four partitions currently holding up the general composition, they were already dabbed in a salubrious coating of plain goldenrod wallpapering studded without any treasures inside of them; nevertheless, they’d stood the tests of time and space, especially considering how cold it all was. Railing down one of the walls were a set of azure curtains were discovered to be covering up a windowsill and the gateway to the outside world beyond what had used to be the jet–black void, stagnantly unmoving much like the majority of the small confines alone as they were still high. Keenly adjacent by a short distance was an enormous bed resting against its frame on hardwood, all donned by a thick celadon comforter with violet sheets and pillowcase already out of place as is yet otherwise so neatly in formation, a clear sign pointing to the source of its unfolded events. No matter what, a tall dresser had stood closer by a short nightstand, both of which were already sharing a matching beige scheme, the latter having possessed a slender lamp and clock standing atop it all; unlike the ceiling fan, they weren’t in the proper use, despite sharing a stable outlet. Standing adjacently from the very bedside were a pair of doors with its share of wooden knobs with all of the peach lacquer and textures therein; they were nothing like the other left slightly ajar on the opposing end, tall and wide like them yet solid enough as ice and cream put together.

Finally, there was the corporeal tenant: a pale lanky woman standing against the cold air bereft of fear and hatred found in the respective moons orbiting around a planet nearby an asteroid belt. She’d possessed a full head of cyan tresses already reaching past her waistline abaft with one too many strands out of place, especially considering how vulnerable they were to the frigid oxygen. Considering the lanky woman’s eyelids were now becoming wide open, the weary pupils were surrounded by fused amethysts while the brows far above there remained upon a slanted incline. Her face was round, brimming with life and youth despite the wrinkles and pockets of ice now developing upon its surface area due to the lowly pressurized atmosphere she’d resided inside of. Draped upon the stagnant muscles of the generally lanky woman’s body was a silken stola of snow white with solid gold adornments: one upon the right shoulder; the other around the waist.

Since she was standing up straightaway on bare feet, she’d walked towards the dresser in mere seconds, opening the tray to pull out a few articles of clothing: a white shirt and matching socks with silvery panties were now resting underneath her underarm before venturing off outside without any kind of complaint whatsoever.

With one door shut abaft the lanky woman completely, another was open on the left side, leaving herself no time to be wasted in any shape or form altogether since the hallway separating betwixt the two of them weren’t much of a concern for walking distance, though small in geometry as is. The slow yet stagnating change in temperature was already being suddenly felt by her bare feet, currently showing off only instantaneously its very flooring was composed completely of merely ceramic tiles in a volcanic arrangement, reminiscent of its surface world’s fiery terrains no less. Instead of a plain color scheme from before, its walls were adorned with a tropical teal thematic, leaning into the go–between of land and sea but otherwise solid; however, the silvery ceiling was colored with cloud strife and squall leonharts shining about due to a similar lightbulb being on. Its accommodations thereof were all firmly gathered within the lanky woman’s line of eyesight: a toilet, sink, mirror, cabinet, hamper, closet, and bathtub with curtains became the very things providing such relief within those eyes; after all, the fact she was up and running proved enough.

At this moment alone, she now made it possibly sure enough to prevent any unwanted intrusions by locking the door right away already no less. Walking over to a similar closet door, the lanky woman pulled out an orange towel and grayscale washcloth from there before turning to the tub. Already made aware of the current attire onto her body, it became a complete castaway aside at once, leaving its owner’s skin absolutely bare. In the grand scheme of things, the small set of fabrics picked out were left aside upon the top of the green hamper’s flattop surface all the while.

The lanky woman had soon stepped inside rather slowly and carefully at once, quickly closing up the very sandy curtains alongside as well so as to shut out the cold air before it’d even gotten the slightest chance of following after her already. She’d soon taken her precious time studying what was currently directed right upfront instantly: the gilded nozzle guided straight overhead had been hung in from the walls with the mixer tap and its three handles had rested underneath all.

Calmly, the lanky woman had started to place her hand onto one handle in the middle just before arranging the others nearby them; however, nothing came out, much to her dismay so to speak. Although she’d became patient, a few minutes in the dry brisk zeitgeist making up the confines was more than enough for her to give up on the notions of any progress, rapid and otherwise. Now it was time to exit the bathtub, zeroing in on the sink from before and turning its handles; likewise, not much changed at all between the two fixtures, something the lanky woman loathed. This startling development was more than enough to send her storming off stark raving mad with frustration, her rage keeping her mistempered flesh warm against the arctic atmosphere already. Only after the lanky woman reopened the door from afore was she free from the disappointment, retreading old ground made with same bare feet as the undergarments ended up in their origins. Stardust memories of her awakening etched firmly into the brainwaves, both overwhelmed and undermined by the recent events based on the observations made in regards to the very pipework.

It wasn’t long until the lanky woman had returned to whence she’d came, comforted by the lack of changes present, if at all, but nevertheless brimming with anger at the grand scheme of things: the least that she could do for now was to cover herself and the few textiles in her possession already served as an impetus, especially considering the cold air from the very beginning no less. At the very least, she’d begun to put the silvery panties over her legs and then the white shirt all in due time, sitting down to wear the socks picked out not too long ago so as to avoid the chill; afterwards, her body became accustomed to the newfound warmth provided around them all, sheer protection as pressure points concentrated themselves into reinforcing structure upwardly. Now, the lanky woman headed towards the double doors nearby and opened them to find an elongated array of combinations: out of them, a scarlet sweater with long sleeves and jet–black pants were discovered upon a thin steel hanger inside her very grasp; as a result, it didn’t take much for her to wear them over most of her underclothing almost instantaneously so to speak of.

Soon, she’d started to return her attention to the bed, rearranging its linen and bedspread together before sitting back down at once; still weary from the lack of a response from what should’ve been the waterworks, she’d looked directly at the jet–black timepiece: before long, her fingertips pressed a button, listening, “this is the nationwide weather service. The following message has been transmitted by the Ministry of International Trade; this is not a test: tonight at 3:34 AM Eastern Time, a state of emergency was declared by the King of Equestria – an unknown hostile force was declared present at Peachtree Acres and several other locations in the surrounding areas of Rosewater Beach, New Ponyland. As of 5:00 AM Eastern Time, the King has issued prerogative orders to withdraw all ground forces and begin immediate airstrikes over Peachtree Acres and surrounding areas beginning no later than 6:00 AM this morning. For your own safety, an immediate evacuation order has been issued to the entire province of New Ponyland: to all subjects of New Ponyland and surrounding areas, leave all your personal belongings, take a battery–powered radio, and only essential supplies with you. Do not remain in your homes, seek shelter at your nearest military zone outside the province of New Ponyland and await further instructions: if you cannot find your nearest evacuation route, seek assistance from local authorities immediately; if you have military, gunpowder, and/or similar weapons training, contact your nearest military officer immediately. Meanwhile, please stay tuned to frequency 740 AM for further information including updates on this emergency and remain calm; remember, there’s nothing to be gained by trying to stay inside instead of evacuating as soon as possible from storm reach as is: in doing so, you could be exposing yourself to greater dangers – starvation, dehydration, privation, and hypothermia. The ice and snow are far more dangerous if you’re directly exposed to them without proper clothes, heavy insulation preferred; make sure gas and other fuel supplies are turned off and all fires are extinguished. If mains water is available, the faucets must be opened slightly for dripping to prevent the pipes from freezing up in the process: use this time to fill any and all of your largest carryall containers for consumption because it may not be available for much longer; also, water must not be used for whatever scale of flushing lavatories until you’re told that they may be used again properly. In the meantime, use your water only for essential drinking and cooking purposes for it means life so don’t waste it; also, to make your food stocks last, ration your supply because it may have to last for a fortnight or more: if you have fresh food in the house, then use this first to avoid wasting it but food in tins will keep.”

“Now, they fucking tell me: as far as I’d remembered, I’m nowhere nearby Peachtree Acres, let alone Rosewater for that matter!” the lanky woman exclaimed as she’d shot back up again, her pale face now burning red with color as the tiny electronic droned, “come to think of it, I’m not anywhere near New Ponyland; why did the pipes freeze if I’m not even in the province at all?!”

“Don’t, in any circumstance, stay inside the house – freezing temperatures can kill: if you can see and/or feel it, then it’s there; if you stay inside, the danger will come to you and/or your family and you may die…” the mechanical voice warned as she’d reached underneath her bed to pull out an elongated baggage from there almost immediately.

After throwing it onto the surface area of the comforter, the lanky woman headed back to the closet and sorted thru the textiles once more, this time picking out heavier material in thought, “how is this even possible: as far as I’d recalled, Hearthswarming isn’t due for another several months or so it seems; could this even be the work of windigos?! No, father had told me they’d have never traveled all the way over from the Old World, much less Thrace or even Equestria; they’d already destroyed our ancestral homeland, what more could they ever want from us Thracians: our bodies, blood?! It’s been over a millennium since Platom was buried in ice and snow and we Thracians have still been sore about being left out: our founder hadn’t forgiven the other tribes forging their own path to the New World, even when they’d settled together already; to him, friendship is nothing but a lie they’d built by throwing us under the bus while they’d shared the spoils of their settlement! Either way, we subjects were all trained to be the very best so in which our King’s dream would be fulfilled to the utmost details; it was one in which this war and other domestic problems before, during, and after could not, despite and cause of their efforts: the Fall of Equestria and its people’s way of life as they themselves know it all too well ever since their ancestors’ inception. Generally speaking, with a small network of spies reminiscent of us blending in, that ancient dream could come true as it were: no more lousy royals dictating from their homes, no more Wonderbolts raining on anyone’s parade, no more talentless failures; at the very least, King Thrace and his kind whom bore our collective grievances will be avenged once and for all. Still, even my father, Diomedes, is far too smart to ever let such a catastrophe like this happen to us, not even me or my sisters; I’d seen him conduct himself in and out of all the political affairs for a long time ever since I was just a baby, but not my mother: whatever plan he had, he’d make sure that it’d be beneficial for the survival of our people first – everyone else, our own servants.”

“Sounds like to me thou art another faraway visitor, perhaps some old face we haven’t been made aware of in a long time…” another feminine voice escaped into the listener’s ear, this one matronly and enhanced by age as far as the latter was concerned, “thou must be one of the newest discovered in a sea of individuals far from the ones unbeknownst to the likes of me…”

“Who are you; how did you get in here?!” the lanky tenant snarled as she’d found herself turning around to face the organic source instantaneously.

It wasn’t even long until another feminine figure had soon entered the viewer’s line of eyesight immediately: unlike the latter, the former had possessed a complexion much darker and full of saturation by comparison. Though both eyes were cold, they were warm, fluid, and active: a pair of cyan irises glowing about alongside with the rest of its owner’s eyes, quickly capturing the lanky tenant at attention straightaway so to speak. Commonalities also shared between themselves were their coldly elongated tresses all flowing to and fro; however, the corporeal visitor only shined about with a harmony twixt lighter and darker hues of the moody blues. Here, the glowing woman wore a small obsidian tiara matching a widely white crescent necklace as well as a long shimmering dress colored in hot pink and a pair of some achromatic slippers as they’d touched the floor.

In turn, the lanky tenant was met with an answer almost instantly, “perhaps that’s a question I feel tempted to ask of thee; after all, this phantasmagoria happens to be not without reason so I’ll tell thee: mine name is Luna, a visitor, just likest thee, but so much more, as thou seems to be…”

“What do you mean by that: as far as I’d remembered, I’d locked the door last night; did someone happened to pick a lock?!” the solid eyewitness exclaimed as the aforementioned bystander had remained firm upon the surface area all the same no less, “better yet, how come you’re not cold like me: I’m already dressed up warmly; shouldn’t you be freezing as well?!”

“Thy home is held under lock and key as it should be normally; if anything, then the surface world thou art living amongst is not in any danger as thou mayest believe: cold as the nighttime should yet bereft of the traits of tundras thou hast laconically described by thine words alone…” the regal figure replied roughly so to speak of.

In any case, the lanky tenant asked Luna calmly yet calcified no less, “if that’s the case, why did I get a message saying something has happened up in Peachtree Acres of all places despite not being anywhere near, Luna…?”

“’Tis simple, dear child: ‘tis thine nightmare, a product of thine subconsciousness; on occasions, the mind plays back events…” the regal figure had only responded almost instantaneously, unaffected by the brisk atmosphere all the same for what it’s worth, “most of the time, ‘tis jumbled up like only a hodgepodge of various miscellany, both real and otherwise so to speak of. In thine case, it seems to me that thou art awarest of Equestria’s humble origins like everyone else is, given how cold the air is: long ago, our ancestors witnessed as their collective homelands across the sea become overrun with the windigos left and right; our only hope to escape their icy fate was to set sail for the New World in search for a better life, or so it’d seemed on the surface. Up until that moment, there were three tribes whom had fought among each other as much as they did with the wildlife at large; each of them had their own differences and attributes but were otherwise mutually antagonistic towards one another all the while: Ponyland the regalistic, Trowa the militaristic, and Germarial the commonplace – almost all were from Platom itself. Although many ships found themselves heading out westward, there were others lost along the way, as the fate for some of them; no matter what, most of the results were nonetheless the same, especially in regards as to what thou see as Equestria today no less: the New Ponyland thou hadst heard earlier was more than one of many provinces, but rather the primordial colony altogether. Matter of fact, thou happen to have learnt that its own capital happens to be named Dominion, a community with its own history: it was the site in which all the tribes hadst agreed to put aside their differences and celebrate the occasion where they’d all lived; because of their collective Fire of Friendship being stoked, it’d led to the inception of a holiday called Hearthswarming. Every December since that fateful day, all of Equestria had hoped in which these bonds between themselves would last forever; however, it’d seem that these deep relations have been contested even more so, all thanks to the recent war, despite everything: atrocity and terror have been the centerpiece of the ordeal, all dating back to seven years ago when new Bearers had been chosen. What thou art and wert experiencing isn’t just a mere past recollection shared by many of us but also a shadow of what could be; the ice and snow enveloping thine mind’s recreation of thine bedchamber’s a significant part of not only a nightmare but more: dear child, thou art standing in the crossroads of destiny Equestria’s currently heading towards, nothing more and nothing less. Cold air which hadst once overwhelmed the ancestral homeland is now threatening this continent and its people as we speak today; not only that, mine sister and I art worried that our friends here and abroad are being affected by the incoming ramifications as is: while I won’t go into details, I’ll say that our champions are starting to lose hope alongside the rest of the country as it wert. Additionally, there’s enough reason to believe whichever entity responsible for firing the first shot is still actively watching us; even worse, there seem to be more interlopers lurking among Equestrians, any and all waiting for their opportunity for vengeance: apparently, it seems thou art not one of them so to speak of and even then, this is perhaps our very first encounter alone as is.”

“I don’t understand any of this: if this is true, then why me of all people; why couldn’t have been anyone else for that matter…?” the solid eyewitness shivered about as she’d looked away from Luna briefly, a breath of fresh air escaping into the void already.

In any case, the regal figure edged forward and said, “perhaps it’s because of thine conflict but this is far as I can go so far; considering the circumstances alone, I have a feeling we may as well meet again: ‘til next time, please don’t be a stranger, dear child…”

“What do you mean by all that; this house was meant to safe from mind readers: how did you manage to find me anyway…?” the lanky tenant exclaimed as Luna had started to dissipate before the former’s amethyst eyes almost slowly all throughout, “are you one of them perhaps…?”

“Not quite, I’m so much more; of course, that’s all that I’ll tell thee: goodnight, dear child…” the regal visitor had said before leaving the solid eyewitness alone in the cold almost immediately so to speak of, catching the latter off–guard as the former was no more and so was the cold all the very same.