Tulip

Orange fur slid and flew around a sun-warmed bedroom, golden rays filtering through thin white curtains, illuminating the speeding filly. She threw her old sheets into a hamper and darted over to her table, a simple and solid thing, clearing up all of her crayons and arranging it as per her mothers instructions. She stopped, holding her breath and firing a glance to the window. The light outside confirmed her worst fears.

It was the afternoon.

She panicked, throwing her red mane back in a gasp and darting towards bed. If she didn't hurry, she wouldn't be able to play! Soon enough, she'd be having supper, then straight to bed! She threw her forelegs wide and dived into the mattress, then zipped about the corners, tightening down her newly washed sheets. Her forelegs carried her as fast as they could, and the young earth filly finally rounded up the last of her chores.

An insurmountable task in her mind, certainly with day light remaining. Chores take forever to the minds of the young, doubly so when it's been raining all morning. But today was different! Today she was going to play! She leapt down the stairs with cat-like grace, landing on the cold wood floor and shooting into the kitchen. Her mother untied her apron with a sigh. She freed her blond mane of her ponytail and braced herself for the ball of energy heading towards her. Her yellow eyes remained steadfast, lifting a cream colored foreleg to grab for her mug.

"Mama, I have done the chores, can I go outside to play? The storm gone!" the young filly cried.

"The storm is gone, Tulip," her mother corrected.

Tulip jumped about, then squared her shoulders and faced her mother with a deathly serious stare. Her yellow eyes wore that same gravity.

"The storm is gone, Mama. Please? Please?"

Her mother's expression softened slightly, her eyes taking on a more understanding tone.

"Alright, alright, you can go out," she relented, "be safe little kukka. Stay away from poison joke, be back before supper!"

Tulip smiled widely and hugged her mother tightly, letting out a happy squeal.

"Thank you, Mama! Thank you!" she shouted joyfully. She grabbed her rainboots in her teeth and raced out of the house, jumping into the mud puddle in front of her home. It took her a moment to realize that she had yet to put them on.

"Do not get dirty!" her mother called after her. She froze.

Tulip's eyes widened for a moment. She was going to be in big trouble when she got home. Then, with a grin, she decided that was a problem for future Tulip. Meanwhile, the Tulip of now was going to have some fun. She threw her rainboots onto the creaky old porch and ran off into the small square of Cobblestone, making sure to hit every puddle going on her way.

The sun was bright and the day was looking up, puddles and all.

She had a goal in mind: the Neighberry Creek. There, she could continue working on her treefort with Bluebar, defending against the griffons. She was Cobblerock's first and last line of defense, and she'd rather be stuck in her room for twenty days than give the birds an inch of ground! Now that she thought about it, the earth filly needed a general's cap.

But first, she needed to speak to Suede, for he had a pair of goggles waiting for her.

An older, teal stallion with a grayed navy mane and beard eyed the little filly approaching him, a soft smile on his muzzle. His cracked horn glowed azure for just a moment as he pushed open the door to his stall, walking into the street to greet Tulip. She drove up to him and came to an abrupt stop, hoof cocked up in the air and jumping to her forehead with a quick salute.

Suede's gentle smile disappeared into rigid stiffness, his body tightening up into his best formal salute, eyes staring above the filly's head. After a moment, Tulip burst into giggles, and Suede fell into gravelly chuckles.

"Hey, Suede!" she chirped.

Suede bowed his head and nodded towards her.

"Hello! How are you, little miss?"

The young filly smiled.

"I am good! How are you?"

"I am well, little miss. Have you come for your goggles?"

"Yes! And, and then, Mama said I can go play! I want... I am going to find more sunflowers for a braid, then go to my fort," she stumbled over her words. Her grasp on Equish was not quite as good as her mother's.

"Punoksille?" Suede hummed inquisitively and moved back behind his stall.

She threw her hooves on the counter aggressively, almost knocking off the pair of spectacles he had been working on.

"Yes!"

He gave her a bemused look and gently pushed the spectacles back into position. He ducked down beneath the countertop to find the goggles.

"Hmm... last I remember, I braided your mane, did I not?" he called upwards.

"You did!" she replied.

He raised his head, a pair of bronze goggles hovering in the air before him. He set them down on the counter and he gave her a quizzical brow, then stroked his beard as though deep in thought. The filly bounced on her hooves and was quickly losing patience with the eccentric stallion.

"So who is to braid it now?"

Tulip was caught off-guard, but quickly pointed a hoof at him.

"Um... you could!" she exclaimed.

The stallion's eyes widened in fake shock and he gasped.

"Is that so?"

The filly nodded eagerly.

"Yes so it is so!"

The stallion flexed his muscles in a determined stance, setting his face in a serious manner. He levitated the goggles onto her head and saluted.

"Then so it is so! Go on, Tulip! Fetch me some sunflowers!" he barked. She giggled.

"Okay!" she started to run off, but then stopped, looking back to Suede, who had already resumed work on the spectacles.

"Do you want to go with me?" she asked sheepishly.

The stallion gave her a sage look and smiled softly.

"An old ori like me cannot gallop quite as fast as you can. Go on then," he urged warmly.

"Okay! Goodbye Suede!"

With her goggles donned, Tulip took off like a bolt of lightning, darting through the town square. Suede watched her with a smile, then called out to her fleeting form.

"Bring back small flowers, Tulip!"

As she disappeared from view, his shoulders sagged. It had been a long day, and these spectacles were still bent out-of-shape. He didn't have it in him to sink in more energy on the ruined pair of glasses, deciding it best to return to that project another day. He brushed the old oak countertop and sighed. Another wasted day.

He absentmindedly looked over to Tulip's house.

"Perhaps the day is not wasted yet," he said to himself. He decided to pack up and spend the rest of the evening with Meadow Breeze. Perhaps Tulip wouldn't be home for some time. The frown on his face turned up into a grin.

Tulip, goggles placed firmly over her eyes, ran through the tall reeds of the southern field while blowing raspberries. She knew that at the edge of the field, and the start of the forest, a patch of tasty wild flowers grew in-between mossy stones. There, she would collect the prettiest flower she could find, tuck it into her hair for safe keeping, then make her way to the treefort. The filly hopped about, dodging the thick underbrush and making a game of finding her way. Soon, a strange and offensive odor came to her nostrils, and she snorted. Holding a hoof to her nose, she cleared the field to find that the flowers were gone, and that strange smell became more powerful.

It was coming from the forest.

Her treefort, despite the fact that it was little more than odd branches placed into a tree with a small board nailed down to sit on, was deep within that forest. She wondered if Bluebar was already there. They had planned to meet there, after all. The smell disappeared as the wind picked up behind her.

"Blue?" she called into the woods.

After a few moments of silence, and no response, she decided she best see for herself what was going on.

She navigated over to the Neighberry creek and past the Angry Stone Wall, a landmark that was neither angry, nor a wall. Her hooves slid on the damp stones, remembering that the stones weren't angry, but slipping on them certainly made her angry. The wetness of the grass and the undergrowth became uncomfortable on her muddy hooves. Her stomach growled, a low grumble that reminded her that she had skipped lunch in favor of her adventure. She found the path leading to the trees and trotted along it, trying her best to ignore the prickling sensation of her legs brushing against the plants. She had a nagging uncertainty bubbling to the surface, but no guard of Cobblerock would ever retreat! Her father had told her so, a long time ago.

"Come on, Tulip," she muttered, "you are a strong filly."

The bushes began to thin, revealing a clearing ahead, tall trees jutting out into the sky above. A large patch of yellow flowers grew near the base of a tree. She decided to pop down for a quick snack, making a note to find other flowers to give to Suede. As she leaned down to take a bite, she heard rustling ahead of her. It startled her, and she went still, head bent down and wide eyes staring up.

She didn't see whatever had made the noise, a familiar blockade of shrubs surrounding the treefort obscured her vision within.

Maybe that was Bluebar?

"Blue?"

No response came, and then she realized, she hadn't heard a sound from the forest since she entered. A pit of dread began to form in her stomach, one that she had never felt before. No monsters beneath her bed could conjure up such feelings. The fur on her neck rose. Something was wrong. She shook her head, trying to clear it. She repeated her mantra in her head. Her father was the bravest pony of Cobblerock! Even though he was gone, she would be brave for him. She would not go back, even if something was wrong.

Especially if something was wrong.

She looked for the narrow gap in the treefort's outer wall, breaching it with practiced ease. She looked about, unable to spot anything out-of-place. Her yellow eyes finally fell upon a familiar figure, a sky blue pegasus colt, his back to her and something in front of him. She couldn't see what it was exactly, only that it was brown. An odd squelch came from him, and whatever words Tulip had to say stopped on her tongue.

This wasn't normal.

His coat was paler than she remembered. Had the clouds returned? She didn't notice that she had snapped a bundle of twigs below her hoof, and noticed that one of his ears turned towards her. He turned his head slowly, looking at her with a dull green eye. He stood on unsteady legs and turned towards her, taking a step closer, wings drooping to the ground.

There was red on his barrel, some on his muzzle, spots of what looked to be jelly at the corners of his mouth. A strand of rubbery gel clung to his chin. Then she saw what he was looking at, and all the carnage about it. It wasn't jelly. It was... red. She saw it in his harja, and on his hooves, and his wings weren't wings at all. Not anymore. Feathers were missing, and at the joints, sharp white objects broke free from his coat.

"Blue?" Tulip whispered in growing horror.

The pegasus colt took a shallow breath, his voice raspy and dry.

"Come... play," he wheezed.

"You are... you are hurt, I will call my Mama-!" she began to turn and run, but a sound caught her attention.

The shrubs behind him rustled, then cleared, and a creature strode forth in an elegant suit. It had a yellow collar and a green jacket, with sleek green pants covering its thin legs. It had a beard, black, and a black swirl of hair atop its head. It seemed to stretch on far above them on its spindly legs, its odd shape and imposing height sent a jolt of terror into her chest, but it was the eyes.

The eyes. Wet scabs rimmed large gaping holes in its flesh, the red flesh beneath slick with tears. The swirling raw meat cascaded inwards to a central point, where two beady black eyes were surrounded by a yellow pus. It had evil for eyes, an unnatural and horrifying visage. On a primal level, Tulip knew she had to run, but she was paralyzed.

Then it spoke, and what it said, Tulip would never know.

Author's Note

...
A smaller chapter, but a painful one to write.
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