//------------------------------// // Decay of Time // Story: Requiem of Equestria // by TheBlox //------------------------------// “What do you mean you didn’t find anything?!” An angry changeling paced back and forth before a row of guards. “How are you four my top search crew?” The other guards winced at their captain, muttering beneath their breaths. “Chitin, we’ve looked everywhere within twelve miles from where the waterfall lands in the river,” Dozer exclaimed, frowning. “What do you expect? We just waddle up to her like she expects us, and be all like, ‘Hey pony! Wanna come with us?’… It’s not like she’s just simply going to turn herself in.” “Hey, Dozer,” Chitin growled, glaring at the changeling. “Shut up!” “With all due respect, Chitin… Dozer does have a point. Our prey has its life on the line and knows we’re hunting her down,” Trek exclaimed, clearing his throat, “She’ll be acting on her most primal instincts, and ponies tend to be more clever when they’re doing so. Finding her will be no easy matter, and certainly not a quick one.” The lead guard rolled his eyes and growled, looking back at him with a frown. “Well, I don’t care what you have to do to find her!” He stomped a hoof and raised his voice, “Just find her!!” “She’s probably dead by now,” a third changeling spoke up. The captain and the other three turned to him, wincing. “What makes you so certain of that, Flake…?” Chitin frowned. “A pony can survive a few days without food.” he stomped his hoof and growled, “These are the Queen’s orders! If you have something to say about this mission, go talk to Chrysalis yourself.” He rolled his eyes and paced the other way. “That is, if you think your head would look good on her wall.” The four guards stood there and said nothing. “Now…” Chitin turned back to face the search crew. “Anyone else have something to say??” Silence. “No?” He stepped forth and hissed, “Then get going!!” The three spoken changelings nodded, flying back out into the wilderness. Plague however stayed put, frowning at the lead guard. Chitin glared back at him, waiting for an explanation. There was a long pause before one of them finally spoke up. “So, what exactly made you Captain, huh?” Plague questioned with a grumble in his throat. “Do your job, Plague,” Chitin snarled, squinting back at him angrily. “Don’t question the Queen’s orders.” Plague just winced at that. “Right…” With that, he flew off after the other three guards. Chitin frowned as he watched the four guards fly off into the wasteland. Turning around with a grunt, he rolled his eyes and stomped off into the cave. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ From in the depths of the cave, the lone pony rested heavily in the dark. Tossing and turning in her sleep, she shivered cold. Dreams flooded her mind. Clenching her teeth, she whimpered scared. “N-no…” she murmured in her sleep, “I-I can’t… Get back…” Gasping as she kicked her restless hooves, her breathing escalated. “Get back!!” A jolt of adrenaline shot her awake, and she stood to her hooves and spun around in the dark, freaking out. “I gotta get out of here!!!” She began galloping aimlessly into the cave, uncertain where she was even going. The frantic pegasus tripped over a rock, and she fell forward, landing in a puddle of water that settled on the cave floor. The splash seemed to properly wake her up, and she snapped out of her moment of insanity. “I’m… Uh…” she whimpered to herself, catching her breath. Standing upright, she sighed and used her hooves to wipe away the water from her wet mane. “Ugh… Well… Had my bath…” Putting her hooves back down, she sat in the puddle, looking up and around her surroundings. Breathing silently, she could hear her breath echoing back to her from within the cave, as well as the quiet distant drips of water now and then. It was a lonely feeling, and she tucked her hooves and wings in to embrace herself. Looking down to the puddle, she murmured and a tear came forth. “Oh Celestia… What am I going to do?” she whispered in a hurt voice, wishing this was all a dream. The ripples in the water slowly faded away, and with enough light coming from the entrance of the cave, she could vaguely see her reflection in the water. Her eyes suddenly jolted open a little at the sight of herself, and she leaned in closer. “What…?” The water ripples faded, faded, faded… until the puddle was still, and she saw a perfect image of herself in its reflection. She took a long, long look at herself, and she stood frozen, wide-eyed. The mare couldn’t believe it. The pony in the reflection was not how she originally recognized herself. The grown pegasus in her reflection was a very pale ivory colour—almost to the point of being grey—and her mane was dark brown; nearly black. Her colour had changed—it had become dull and lifeless. Colourless, just like the way her drained emotion felt. Her colour change however wasn’t the only thing that caught her off guard. “It… it can’t be… I… I’m older?” She winced at the mare in the reflection, and stepped away from it. “What in Equestria is happening?!” She stumbled out of the puddle and turned to the exit of the cave, and ran for it. Galloping with a gasp in her voice, she trotted out of the cavern and stopped, looking up and around her surroundings at her world. The grey, dead and prickly grass at her hooves; the aged, lifeless trees covered in mesh; the deathly green clouds overhead that hid the sky. She nibbled her bottom lip, and lowered her head with her eyes wandering. “How long was I in that cocoon for…?” she murmured to herself, looking to the haunting sky to express her sorrows and sadness. “How long has Equestria been like this?” She tried spreading out her wings just out of discomfort, and felt a pinch in her right wing. “Gh—ow!” Closing her wounded wing partly back into her side, she turned to look at it with a squint. She sat on her flank and clenched her teeth together, trying to move her sore wing around. It hurt a lot, but she could tell that at least it wasn’t broken, and just a sprain. Still, being grounded in this condition made her vulnerable—she would have to take extra precautions because of it. After several moments of sitting alone in the fog, there was a quick high pitched screech coming from within the cave. Startled by the sudden noise, her mane stood on end and she turned to the cave—the bat came flying out, screeching again right in front of her. “AAH!!” The pegasus stumbled over and collapsed onto her back, looking up at the flying mammal. Frowning, she rolled over onto her haunches and pushed herself to her hooves, turning to the bat. She was not very amused. “Mercy!” the pegasus growled angrily, glaring at the winged creature that was hovering a mere foot in front of her face. “Stop scaring me like that!” Frowning, she stomped her hoof and snarled, “Listen, just leave me alone, alright? I don’t need a bat following me around—I’ve got big enough problems!” With that, the mare just squinted at the bat one last time, and marched away from it aimlessly into the empty woods. After a few moments of walking, Mercy flew up and over her head, landing in her mane. “Wh—hey!” The pony twitched, backing up with a stumbling limp. She tried shaking her head around to get the bat off of her. “Get. Off! I’m in no mood for this right now!” She stood tall, looking up at the bat in her mane from over her forehead, frowning and grumbling. “Hey! Bat!” she yelled, “I said off!” Mercy nuzzled her mane and used it as a bedding to get comfortable. “Wh—Mercy!” She was now trying hard not to smile. “Stupid bat! What part of off don’t you understand? I don’t want you around, you hear me??” She stomped a hoof and raised further questions, “How do I know you’re not a changeling, huh?!” She backed up further, growling, “Show yourself, changeling!!” Mercy closed his eyes and tried sleeping there. The pony stood there in silence with a very confused look. She raised a brow with a very forced straight face, trying not to break out a smile from the bat’s adoration. She frowned and grit her teeth, and was about to growl when she heard the soft breathing coming from the bat on her head. The frown on her face slowly faded to that pacifying sound, and very slowly, a faint smile finally broke out. “Eh, I think I’ll take my chances.” Finally giving in to the bat’s company, the pegasus sighed and continued on aimlessly through the wilderness. After a few steps, she turned her head, looking back at the mountain in the far distance beyond the forest. She stood there in silence, just staring at it. Her ears sank to her sides at the thought of all the ponies that were still trapped there. She knew she couldn’t just go back and save them all—she would surely get caught, and she’d be cocooned like the rest of the ponies all over again. It then painfully occurred to her, “What if I’m the only pony out of their cocoon now…?” she thought. The idea of being the only free pony in Equestria made her shudder. For a moment, she had the sudden desire to go back to the mountain to free other ponies. But that was quickly drowned out with the chances she had—and there were none. While she felt somewhat responsible to free the other ponies, she also had this sense of responsibility to keep herself free; if she were to get caught, ponykind would be forever doomed. “Oh Celestia, what do I do…?” the lone pegasus whimpered, standing with her eyes locked on the mountain in the distance. The answer she got was as good as any answer… and that was nothing. If she were to go back, she’d only have one chance. One. The pony simply sat there in the dead grass, looking at the mountain as she attempted to make the dreadful decision. She couldn’t look at it for long, as the building guilt became too burdensome and distracting after awhile. She closed her eyes, reflecting in the pure silence of the wasteland that used to be her home. She didn’t know if it was logic or cowardice that made her decide, but feeling inevitably useless, she turned away and wandered aimlessly through the lifeless trees. The empty silence brought only more guilt until she absolutely needed to get away from this place. She ran, relishing in her hoofbeats making a sound to break the nerve-wracking quiet and tried to go somewhere, anywhere, that wasn’t here. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The changeling throne room was quiet; Queen Chrysalis was sitting at her throne seemingly bored. Her ears twitched at the sound of the doors opening, and she glanced over to see a cowering Chitin enter. She rolled her eyes and sat up straight with an aggravated sigh. “Have you found the pony yet?” she questioned him impatiently. Chitin cleared his throat. “Uh, well—” “Yeah, I didn’t think so,” the Queen murmured disappointingly, knowing how the guard was going to respond simply by the downbeat tone in his voice. “My Queen, they’re out there searching as we speak,” the guard explained solemnly, “I intend to go help them in their search, but I needed to come see you in regards to a concern I have.” Chrysalis winced at that, and after a quiet pause, she sat comfortably in her throne. “And what would that be?” “It’s Plague,” Chitin declared uneasily, followed by an unenthusiastic sigh. “I’m beginning to fear that I can’t trust him.” “Plague?” The Queen put a hoof to her chin. “What seems to be the problem with him?” “It’s no surprise really, but I recon that he’s jealous of my position as captain,” Chitin exclaimed solemnly. “He doesn’t like listening to my orders.” “Hm, yes, well he’s always been rather independent.” Chrysalis cleared her throat. “Send him to me after tonight’s search. I’ll deal with the issue.” Chitin nodded respectfully in response. “Yes, my Queen.” “And Chitin.” Chrysalis frowned and put her hooves down, sitting tall. “That pony better be alive. For your sake.” The guard gulped and nodded, backing away while cowering, “Yes, my Queen,” he repeated, turning to exit the throne room. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ It’s been about an hour since the lone pegasus had left the cavern where she spent the night. Everywhere she wandered was so quiet and lonely. Everything looked the same: lifeless. The greenish mesh from the changelings seemed to spread everywhere she went. Trotting onward through the ominous wilderness, she felt that unpleasant grumble in her gut which told her it was time to find food again. “Uuugh…” She was most certainly not up for more insects. Trying to ignore her hunger, she pressed onward through the empty forest until she came to a clearing out of the forest. Trotting out from the dead woods, she stood in the dead, prickly grass, looking ahead across an open field. In the distance there was an old village crumbled into ruins. Homes were torn down, and the place was filmed in the changelings’ green filth. At first the pegasus could hardly recognize the place, but after a long and sorrowful glance at it, she could begin to feel her stomach turn when she thought she realized where she was. She was whispering to herself, praying she wasn’t where she thought she was. The weeping pegasus slowly trotted toward the corrupt village. The closer she got to the ruins, the lower she felt her heart sink. With her eyes fixed ahead, she was walking as if in a trance—she couldn’t move her eyes from the village ahead, and tears were falling with every step. As she trotted onward, she stepped on something solid that cracked, which caught her attention. Looking beneath her, she lifted her hoof to see what she had just stepped on—a broken sign post: Welcome to Ponyville. She was suddenly frozen, and for a moment she could say nothing. Once again, only the wind could be heard as the countless decadent thoughts of her home surged through her mind. She slowly lifted her head and, now knowing the place to be Ponyville and having her hopeful skepticism dashed, she could clearly see that everything was recognizable—if only slightly—beneath the green mesh and decay of time. The shape of the town, apart from a shattered building here and there was still the rambunctious pony-made construct that once stuck out of the green fields cheerily. But the once vibrant green fields became sickly; the cheer of the town had died and its posture sagged. But the memories still came. She didn’t need the buildings to be in prime condition to remember and identify them from so far away. And each building seemed to open a window of her memory. She could see Sugarcube Corner, where she and her friends would conspire on how to spend and seize their innocent days; she could see the field off to the east of town where she always practiced flying, where she dared to dream and to prove the neigh-sayers wrong. She saw the school and the shopping plaza, the farm and the playgrounds. She saw the gym, the city hall and the gathering gazebo. And in that silence, she could swear that she heard the laughter of foals, the chattering of teenage fillies and giggling babies, which seemed to quickly drown out with screams of pain and terror, pleads of mercy and the crackling of fire, and the beating of hornets’ wings. The stimulation was too much. The empty town with no sound had given her too much noise and sight in the darkest corners of her mind, and once again, she hunched over. But there was real sound this time, “No… please, Celestia, no. This isn’t…” The tears finally came and her voice cracked. She straightened in a single jolt and dashed towards town, openly crying as she kept repeating herself, “No. No, no, no. Nonononono, please no.” She slammed open the door of the nearest house. The door crumbled beneath her strength easily, and everything inside was empty. There were signs of struggle with knocked over furniture and broken glass. And, of course, there was the green film. There was always the green film. “No…” She ran back outside and shouted at the dead city, “SOMEPONY! ANYPONY! PLEASE, ANSWER ME!” She bolted through the town, turning her head every which way, glancing at the horrors around her. “HEEEEEEEY! SOMEPONY!” She collapsed rather suddenly. Her body couldn’t sprint in this condition; the crying, hunger and adrenaline crash saw to that. Miserable, she lay there sobbing; she was a mess. But she still beckoned for somepony, anypony, to be there, “Please…” It was in that dark place that she felt a rustling on her head, in her mane. Mercy—who had slept for most of the day as his species does—was roused by all the excitement. By the time the pegasus had collapsed, he was wide awake and looked down on his friend with the closest feeling an animal could have to pity. A few minutes passed and he flew down on the ground in front of her, watching her mourn her home. The pegasus rested low with her chin on the ground looked down at him, her tears leaking like a broken faucet. She sniffled and wiped her snout with her right hoof, and chewed her lip. At first she was seemingly frozen. “Y-you’re still following me,” she whimpered and lifted her head a little, eyeing the winged mammal beneath her. She sniffled again and wiped her snout. “W-why are you still following me…?” she questioned him, suddenly feeling something warm in her heart, and from the corner of her eye she noticed something. With her hoof in view, she witnessed her fur colour change—very slightly—but she noticed it. “What…?” It had become ever so slightly brighter in colour. She stood up, feeling dumbfounded by this foreign feeling and new coat on her body. The pegasus spread her wings, examining herself from top to bottom. “Wh—I don’t understand. What is happening to me?” She tucked her wings back into her sides again, and turned back to look down at the bat on the ground. Mercy flapped his wings and flew up to her at eye level. The pegasus sighed with damp eyes, and tilted her head eyeing the bat before her. “Thanks for sticking around,” she murmured quietly, wiping tears away from her eyes with her hoof. Mercy’s ears perked, and after a few moments, he turned and flew off toward a large tree. The confused mare watched the bat fly away, and she trotted after him. “Where are you going?” He flew up and around the tree, and perched on a branch looking down back to her. That’s when she noticed where she was standing: right in front of Twilight’s library. It was so broken apart and hidden in that green mesh that she hardly recognized it before, but it was standing right there, where it has always been. She took a long stare at the entrance of the library, with the wooden door broken off into planks on the floor. Her ears sank to her sides with forlorn feelings, and she crept toward the entrance with curiosity. Slowly trotting inside the library, she glanced left and right with hopeful feelings that she’d find another pony, but just as she had expected, she did not. Before entering further, Mercy flew by her into the library, screeching into the open silence. The inside of the entrance of the library was a total mess. Books were scattered everywhere, the windows were shattered open, floorboards were split and pried out of shape, and strands of green webbing hung from the ceiling and walls. Twilight’s old desk in the corner had a broken leg and was tipping slightly off to one side, and many bookshelves were split and had caved in. Parts of the staircase leading to the upper level of the library had also caved in, with the wooden splinters and planks scattered across the floor. She cringed at the sight of the destruction, and slowly turned her head to examine every horrifying detail, until something caught her eye. Mercy had perched on Twilight’s old desk, and he stood facing her on a book—a very familiar one. She was quick to trot to the book and examine it. When she approached the desk, Mercy flew off of the book and made a few circles in the air before landing on the mare’s head to rest in her mane. The cover and pages were worn from age, but she could still make out the familiar art. Gently, the pegasus pulled the book closer to her on the crooked desk, and blew the dust off to get a better look. “Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Statue,” the mare read aloud to herself. Before turning to the first page, she kept looking at the cover art. Blinking a few times, she looked up to see herself in a mirror on the wall in front of her. Her darkened mane, her dull fur coat… In a way, she looked just like her. Disregarding that intriguing matter, she looked back down to the book under her hooves and turned it open to the first page. A small cloud of dust puffed up from the desk when she opened the cover; ignoring the filth, she read on silently to herself. There was a rustle in her mane which startled her; the mare looked at the bat on her head through the mirror’s reflection who was trying to get comfortable. She smiled a little and looked back down to the book to keep reading on. Getting further into the story, she got to a point where Daring Do had entered a temple, rummaging through decay and triggering traps, with such low odds to survive in her condition with a wounded wing—it was inspiring. Reading onward, the pegasus stood silently with the book rested on the crooked desktop, her ears perked with suspense. Daring Do didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, she thought. Springing traps, jumping boulders floating on molten lava, taking leaps of faith with one working wing… She paused briefly, and looked up at herself in the mirror, specifically at her wings. She spread her large wings out to expose their full span to herself in the mirror, but she cringed and grunted in pain when her sprained right wing reached its maximum length, and she curled it back in half way. Solemnly glancing at her crooked wingspan, she began to daydream. Daring Do was just a fictional character, and she knew this, but there was something about that courageous mare’s tale that opened up her eyes. Looking up and around her at the massacred room, the inspired pegasus opened a third eye and could see the library as something more than just a room full of rubble, splinters and scattered books. It was wide enough, high enough, and the broken boards lying around everywhere were mere obstacles for a proper training ground. The lone pegasus finished the final pages of the book, feeling renewed and enthused. Closing the book with a puff of dust, she glanced at herself in the mirror somberly, and then looked to the bat in her mane. “Mercy, we’re staying here,” she declared with powerful emphasis in her voice, turning to the library of decay that to her looked like an obstacle course. “I’m going to start flying. Sprain or no sprain!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Many thanks to these gentlecolts: Proofreading and Editing done by David Hasselhoof. Prereading and other Assistance by Morfonious.