A Silver Sky: Four Little Ponies

---15: A Declaration is Made ---

I’ve failed. Again.

For what feels like the thousandth time, I think back to the night when Twilight came to our house. It had been a quiet night. My sister hadn’t bothered me, and I didn’t have much homework. So I was coloring. I even remember the picture. It was a sailboat out on the ocean.

I colored the ocean pink. I like pink.

That’s what I was doing when Twilight walked in. As she and my sister argued, I looked around the room.

Ever since the Gathering, I had been thinking I was some kind of genius planner. I thought I could outwit my sister, even though she’s been doing this sort of thing since before I was born. But when I actually sat down to map out my plan, the best I could think of was "get Twilight's help."

Maybe I was too scared of becoming like Rarity. Maybe I’m just bad at this sort of thing. I don’t know. But when Twilight showed up in my house, suddenly a plan popped into my head. My sister used sticky notes in her work sometimes. To keep track of stuff, I guess. They were right there on the table next to me.

My idea was to hug Twilight when she was about to leave, and put the note on her back. But then Twilight got mad. And before I knew it, I was protecting my sister from the pony who came to save me from her.

I didn’t think about it at the time. I just did it. That’s normal, isn’t it? To want to protect someone you love?

I actually don’t remember putting the note on Twilight. I remember seeing it there right after, and I remember thinking “when did I do that?” I guess it was kind of automatic.

Either way, after Twilight left with the note, I guess I got a little obsessed with it. Rarity kept me indoors for most of the next two months, so I never saw Twilight until the guards came to arrest my sister. But I thought about her. All the time.

I just kept thinking, “She’s going to save my friends. Any day now I’ll get word. Silver will come back, or the guards will come.”

I kept trying to tell myself that I wasn’t betraying my sister. That I wasn't being like Rarity, scheming behind other ponies' backs. No, I kept saying, I'm helping her. If Twist told the guards what happened, and they came and arrested my sister, she’d finally be getting the help she needs. I could have a chance at a normal life, and one day, when sis got better, they’d let her out of jail.

I ended up whispering the same words to myself every night before bed:

"You're not like her. You're doing the right thing."

And then one day there was a knock at the door.

I’ll never forget the way my sister acted that day. I thought she’d be scared, or that she would try to run. And for a moment, it looked like that’s what would happen. But she calmed herself, and after that she didn’t flinch, not even when the guards broke the door down. Not even when she saw Twilight and Indigo there.

Not even when the guard said the word “murder.”

That’s when I knew I had failed. If Twilight had gotten the note, she’d know that Silver Spoon is alive.

My whole future hinged on a little piece of paper. But paper can burn.

When they arrested my sister, I started screaming. I tried to tell them it was a mistake. I remember I just kept shouting “SHE’S ALIVE! SHE’S ALIVE!”

Indigo just said something about me lying to protect my sister, and the guards believed her. One of them actually said, “Of course we’re not going to take her at her word. She’s just a foal.”

I wish I wasn’t a foal. I wish I could just skip past being a kid altogether. Just wake up tomorrow as a grown mare. Then my sister wouldn’t want to touch me anymore. Then adults would take me seriously. They wouldn’t be able to overpower me so easily. I wouldn’t feel so helpless all the time.

I’m so sick of being a foal. I’m so sick of being weak.

I’m so sick of failing.

For days, I kept trying to talk to Twilight, but Indigo never let me get close. She’d lock me up in my own room anytime Twilight came over. “For your own good,” she would say. I would scream at the top of my lungs, but even when Twilight was just in the next room, she’d never respond. Indigo told me she used some kind of spell to keep my voice from carrying.

I tried so hard to get her attention. But now I have to wonder, even if she had listened, would she have taken me seriously? Would she have believed me? Or would she have ignored me, because I’m “just a foal?”

Maybe she did get my note after all. Maybe she took one look at the pink crayon and the sloppy spelling, and threw it in the garbage.

Why else wouldn’t she have come to save me when Indigo said she was taking me away? Why else would no one have stopped her?

When I think of my sister now, I get so confused.

She hurt me so much; she could be so vicious and cruel. But now I’m never going to see her again, and the thought of that breaks my heart.

It’s taken me a long time to figure out why I still love her so much, despite everything. But I think I finally get it now.

Even when my sister hurt me and made my cry, even when she lied to me and tricked me, even at her absolute worst, my sister saw me as someone special. She listened to me, and even when she went out of her way to act otherwise, my words always had an effect on her. They mattered. I mattered.

To her, I was never “just a foal.”

If I ever see my sister again, I’m not sure what I’ll say to her. I don’t know how I’ll feel, or if I’ll want her to keep her distance.
But I know I’ll tell her I missed her. And that I love her. And that I wish the two of us could be together, the right way, the way sisters should be.

If she could just promise me that, and if there was a way that I could know, with a doubt, that she meant it, then I’d forgive everything she’s done. I’d never speak about it again. And I’d never let anyone take her away from me.

I wonder if thinking that way makes me weak?

Or does it make me strong?

I’m sitting in a carriage next to Indigo Dream, as we pull up to the Dream family estate. It’s not like Fancy’s house, all shiny and new, built to impress. It’s an old castle on the outskirts of Canterlot. Indigo tells me the castle has been around since before the Lunar Rebellion. She says her ancestors built it far from the city, because the Dream family likes its privacy.

“It’s not that we don’t like to mingle with lesser unicorns,” Indigo says. “It’s that in the end…all we need is each other.”
She’s rubbing her pussy while she says this. Right in front of me.

It’s just the two of us in the carriage, and over the last few hours, Indigo has brought herself to orgasm three times, always while telling me about her children.

What really bothers me is, she’s not even saying anything sexual. She tells me how Shamrock just learned to conjure false wings, or how Vermillion can do illusion magic now. Except for the fact that she’s touching herself right in front of me, it sounds almost like, well, normal mom talk. Not that I would know from experience.

Indigo isn’t much like my sister. I mean, she obviously likes foals, but she hasn’t tried to touch me this entire time. Instead, she just sits there, exposing herself to me, while talking to me all sweet and nice.

After I found out who she really was and how she framed my sister, I thought she’d drop the act. Act mean to me like other foalphiles do. It’s not that I want that. But at least that way, I know what’s expected of me.

And if I play my part, they don’t hurt me as bad.

But this is something new. She’s being so casual about everything. She keeps looking into my eyes while she plays with herself. I haven’t said a word since we got into the carriage, but she’s talked non-stop. And she never stops staring at me.
I think I’m more scared of her than I am of my sister.

At least Rarity always makes it clear what she’s after. Because she usually takes it by force. It hurts, and I hate it, but at least it’s direct. But I’m not sure what Indigo wants from me. And that paralyzes me.

I'm hoping she's just weird, that she just likes to touch herself in front of me, and that's as far as she'll take it. I don't think I saw her with any foals at the Gathering, other than her kids. Maybe she's not interested in me that way.

The carriage stops. We’re at the entrance to the castle.

I hear the lead carriage driver unhitch himself. As he does, Indigo’s expression changes. She looks annoyed at me.

“Well,” she says, as the lead driver opens the door. “I suppose we’ll just have to train you to take opportunities that are presented to you.”

So that’s it. She wanted me to make the first move.

And to think, I actually thought she might leave me alone.

But adults never leave me alone. Not those kind of adults. They just use me. They grab me, hold me down, make sure I can’t fight back. Then they take what they want, and leave me for the next grownup to use.

As I follow Indigo into the castle and hear the front doors closing behind me, I can already tell what’s going to happen. She’s following the same pattern, just going about it differently.

This is the part where she makes sure I can’t fight back.

“Just wait until you meet my darling children!” she says. Her voice is so much more cheerful than it was a minute ago. It sounds a little like music. “They’ve been dying to meet you.”

We’re walking through a huge stone hall. There’s paintings everywhere of unicorns doing amazing magical feats, like taming dragons and blowing up mountains and stuff. I guess they must be Indigo’s ancestors.

The hallway is dark up ahead, but there's a row of torches along the wall. Every time we get close to one, it lights up on its own. I look back and see that the part of the hall we were just in is dark now.

After a while, I realize it’s all the same flame. It keeps jumping from one torch to another, following Indigo wherever she goes.

Did she cast this as we came in? Was it set up like this before?

I think about asking, but I decide not to. I don't think I'd get it anyway. My sister was never very good at magic, and I can barely make a pencil hover.

Instead, I decide to try being as casual as she is. Maybe that’s what she wants.

“So, um, are your kids excited to have a new sister?” I ask.

“Sister?” Indigo says, laughing. “Oh, poppet, whatever gave you that idea? You’re not going to be their sister.”

“I’m not?”

“Certainly not! The Dream family is the most powerful magical dynasty in Equestria. And from everything I’ve seen, you and your sister possesses utterly pathetic magical abilities. Do you honestly think I’d cheapen our name by letting you take it?”

I’m happy with the name I have now, I think.

“No, sweetest, it’s clear from my observations that your abilities are laughably inadequate. You are, quite frankly, on a level beneath us. And that is how you shall live.”

Suddenly, I feel something around my neck. I shout. Ever since the Gathering, I hate having things around my neck. I can’t think of anything that scares me more.

But after a second, I realize that it’s not squeezing or choking my throat. It actually hangs a bit loose. But there’s no mistaking what it is.

It’s a collar. And there’s a little tag at the end reading “Sweetie Belle.”

I feel a jerk on my neck. The collar is glowing, and there’s a tiny string of light leading from it to Indigo’s horn. My leash.

“The kids have been begging me for a pet,” she says. “And I did promise them a surprise when I got home from Ponyville. A unicorn of your pitiful abilities seems like a fitting solution. Roughly as useful as a dog, but able to clean up her own messes.”

I guess being just a foal isn’t enough. She has to bring me even lower.

“You…you can’t do this!” I blurt out. “You said you were going to take care of me! Twilight trusted you! And my sist-“

Suddenly my voice is gone. Indigo smiles as her horn glows just a little bit brighter.

“Oh, sweetness,” she says. “Everyone knows pets can’t talk.”

I want to cry out. I want to yell at her, yell at the whole world, and ask it – tell it—to stop. Stop humiliating me. Stop finding new ways to take away my dignity. Just stop.

Please.

“Now, come along,” she says, with a tug on the leash. “We mustn’t keep your new owners waiting.”

I don’t move.

“Dear, you’re being a very bad pet,” Indigo says. Her voice sounds flat now. “You will follow me as instructed.”

I stay as still as I can. I’ve had enough of this.

“Come here, Sweetie Belle,” she says. “Now.”

She starts pulling on the leash, trying to drag me along. I pull back, staying in place.

It’s choking me. I try as hard as I can to ignore that. I can’t let her see me afraid.

Indigo sighs. It’s really loud, like she’s been practicing. “Very well, dearest. We’ll do this the hard way.”

She looks right at me, and just for a second, her eyes turn black.

Suddenly I fall to the ground. Pain pulses through my whole body. It only lasts a split second, but it’s horrible. It’s not like the times I’ve been whipped or beaten. The pain is coming from inside me. Like my body is trying to tear itself in half.

I can’t even scream.

“Did you like that?” Indigo says. “I can do it again, you know, any time I like. So can all of my children. This time, it only lasted a second. But we can make it last as long as we want. Hours. Days.”

I try to get to my legs, but she tugs hard on my collar, making me lose my balance and fall to the ground.

“I can increase the intensity of the pain, as well,” she says. “What you just experienced was me being kind. But I think you'll find that I'm usually not a very kind pony. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Good girl!” she says. Her voice sounds like music again. “Now come along, pretty puppy. Let’s go meet the family.”

I follow close behind her, matching her steps with my own.

And in my mind, I think of that note. That tiny piece of paper, that I hung so many of my hopes on. I remember looking at it, right after I wrote the note, and thinking to myself, “Once Twilight finds Twist, she’ll tell her everything. Then sis will get the help she needs, and I’ll get a new home. I’ll finally be safe. I’ll finally be free.”

Now Indigo Dream leads me by the neck into my new home.

I’m sorry, Twist. I’m sorry, Silver.

I’ve failed again.

*******

I close my eyes and listen to the creaks and pops of burning wood. I do so love a good fire.

It’s a chilly night, but the fireplace is large enough to radiate warmth throughout my dining room. It’s modeled after the dining hall of Galahad I, the legendary poet-king of the Griffons. His taste in art and architecture was impeccable, and remains celebrated by refined ponies even today, six centuries after his death.

His own people were less appreciative of his tastes. Griffons are a warlike sort, and once it became clear that their king was a sensitive artist, they wasted no time in storming the castle and tearing him limb from limb. More’s the pity.

My eyes are still closed as I hear the distinctive sound of wine being poured into my glass.

“Tonight’s selection is a Neiagran white,” my sommelier informs me. “This particular vintage is two hundred and eleven years old. Only one other bottle is known to still exist."

“Who owns the other one?” I ask.

“You do,” he says. I smile.

I have my fire. I have my drink. The food is on its way.

But my dinner is incomplete. I do not have my companion.

“Where is Silver Spoon?” I ask a nearby servant.

“I’m not sure, sir,” he says. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

I shake my head, smiling. I’m certain my little strumpet has lost herself in the Gallery. I find it quite pleasing to see her youthful energy channeled to such perverse means. Still, she’s never missed dinner before. If this happens again, she and I will need to have a talk about priorities.

I take a sip of my wine. “How is it?” the sommelier asks.

“Simply dreadful,” I reply. “Take the other bottle of this slop and have it sent to Prince Blueblood. Where did the Princess exile him to again?”

“Oh! Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir! I thought you might like a change of pace this evening, so I-"

"Focus, Vintage!" I say. "I asked you about Blueblood."

"Oh yes, of course. Officially, of course, he has not been exiled. He was ‘granted an ambassadorship’ to the Great Swamp.”

“Ah yes, the Water Buffalo homeland. It’s seen better days, as I recall. One wonders what he must have said to upset his auntie enough to send him there.” I chuckle.

“I’m terribly sorry about the wine, sir,” Vintage says. “I promise it won’t happen again, so please…”

The faint tremble in his voice is endearingly familiar. I have heard it from so many ponies, so many times, and always for the same reason: because I have power over them, and they know I am about to exercise it.

I let the moment last, remaining silent for a few seconds. I can practically feel the tension radiating off of Vintage. He believes I am deciding his fate. In reality, I knew what I was going to do the moment the wine touched my lips.

But I can’t help drawing things out. I don’t know what the chefs are preparing for dinner tonight, but I’m sure I will savor this moment far more than any delicacy they could provide.

I inhale deeply, then inform him of my decision.

“That’s quite alright, Vintage,” I say. “Please, try to relax. I’m not going to punish you for one little error. Just make sure to take my tastes into greater consideration in the future.”

“Of course, sir! Thank you! Thank you so much!” he says, and scurries away.

Vintage has only been in my employ for a few weeks, but he has no doubt heard the rumors of what happens to those servants who displease me. They are let go, of course, but stopping at that would not be enough. So I make it a point to send word out to the wealthy families of Canterlot that the offending servant is not to be employed under any circumstances. A ruined career and destitution soon follows.

I do not do this out of spite or cruelty. I do this because I have a reputation to maintain.

Responses like the one I just received from Vintage do not happen by accident. It takes years to build up that kind of notoriety. I am known for rewarding my servants' successes lavishly, and punishing their failures with equal harshness. Maintaining this reputation means that I can only be merciful every so often.

But when I do show restraint, I find I savor their gratitude far more than the reactions I get when I simply ruin them. I can always detect a slight change in the servant’s demeanor after I have absolved them. Their practiced obsequiousness turns into genuine gratitude, sometimes bordering on awe.

In this way, I have filled my home with a legion of quiet worshipers, all beholden to my mercy and compassion.
Vintage’s tone will no doubt be a little more enthusiastic tomorrow. I can already tell I have won myself another convert.

I finish my wine. It is actually quite good.

“Sir!” Postmark, my courier, enters, looking quite frazzled and hurried. He is accompanied by Gaze, who, as always, walks with slow, deliberate steps, unaffected by his surroundings. His expression is as neutral as always.

“I trust you have a good reason for interrupting my dinner?” I say.

Gaze nods, and motions toward the courier, who produces a letter.

“Two very important reasons, sir. The first has to do with this letter. It just arrived, sir. It’s from Triage.”

“Oh, so she’s finally resurfaced, has she? What does she want?”

“She’s…she has Rarity, sir.”

Rarity? And here I thought this was going to be a boring evening.

“It seems Rarity had paid a magician in advance to break her out of prison in case she was ever caught,” Postmark says. “But by the time she got out, Indigo had already taken Sweetie Belle. Rarity showed up at Triage’s house a few days later. From the letter, it sounds like she’d almost gone mad by then. She was covered in mud when she got there, and Triage says she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.”

I stifle a laugh. I knew Rarity’s attachment to her sister was her weak spot, but I never dreamed it would drive her to such sad depths.

“The letter goes on to say that Rarity wants to turn herself over to you. She says she wants a hearing before the entire Circle, and she will accept whatever form of justice they decide upon. All she wants in return is to see her sister one last time.”

“The entire Circle? The nag does ask for quite a bit, doesn’t she?” I say.

“She says she’s prepared to bring you an offering to prove her good will,” the courier says. “A new filly for the Gallery. It seems she abducted her before she left Ponyville.”

“Oh, an offering? Well, she is determined, isn’t she? I suppose I would love to see the wreck she’s become. And imagine the look on her face when she sees me with Silver Spoon.”

I turn toward Gaze.

“I trust no one outside of this room knows about this?”

He nods. Dependable as ever.

“Very good,” I say. “Send a reply to Miss Triage. Inform her that the Circle will gather at my estate one week from tonight. And that I fully expect to put an end to all these matters then.”

“Right away, sir,” he says, and begins running to the door. But before he can leave, I have a thought.

“Oh, yes! Did she mention the name of the foal Rarity was offering?”

“Diamond Tiara,” the messenger replies.

The name sounds familiar.

The messenger leaves, but Gaze remains in the room. He is levitating a folder out of his saddlebag.

“Ah, of course, the second bit of news,” I say. The numbers on the folder tell me that it comes from Snapshot, the pony I’ve had keeping watch over the Canterlot train station. Since Rarity’s escape, I’ve employed him to take photos of the ponies getting off of the daily express train from Ponyville, just in case Rarity happens to be on it.

But the photos Gaze shows me are not of Rarity. Snapshot must have been asleep at the switch.

Or perhaps…

I look up at Gaze.

“Is there any indication that she’s aware of what’s really been going on?”

Gaze shakes his head.

“Hm. Perhaps she’s just here to visit the Princess. Still, we can’t be too careful.”

I toss the photos down on the table.

“Have a telegram sent to Indigo,” I say. “Tell her Twilight Sparkle has arrived in Canterlot.”

“Twilight Sparkle?”

I turn to the door. Ah, here she is.

Standing at the door is my perverse angel, little Silver Spoon.

She looks absolutely horrid. She appears to have been beaten, and her beautiful mane is a terrible mess.

“Did you say Twilight Sparkle?” Silver says.

“Never mind that,” I tell her. “Silver, dear…where exactly have you been?”

[NEXT: Silver's side]