//------------------------------// // The sweet song of the bird of Malal // Story: Dead Birds // by Stray Dog Kane //------------------------------// She stood alone in the crowd, no one was dead yet. Everypony was just kind of there, but not really there. Gilda walked among them and they looked back. She was unwelcome as usual, no kindness, none to care, just a disgusting freak to them. Then she showed them what they were mistaken. Not that she was no monster, as that would never be proven to them after all. Not with who they were to her. But that she was a monster they had grossly underestimated. That’s when the screaming began. Her icy claws gutted the nearest pony to her, then came the panic and fighting. She called a storm down upon the lot of them, and the ponies in the air were blown about. Some impacting city walls with a wet crunch. There was going to be no mercy for them. After all, they were really just a bunch of high minded, stupid, overblown animals. No one is really there, not really alive. That was the truth she had found in the gates of delirium. Equestria had never seen a beast like her before, one that had understood so much now. From nightmares, to Discord, to the happy gods, Gilda was something new. While those pitiful ones would seek a world of their own, she did not. She was content to ruin theirs, as Gilda had no such weak desires. A sweet song in her ear and a calm heart was now hers forever, her smile was genuine. It was all for her to ruin now. Her simplicity was in the hurting of both sides. Empires of order and chaos fell at her claws and so did their armies. If they fought for a side, they died for that side. It didn’t matter for her anymore, such discrimination annoyed her. All that mattered was that they suffer to desperation, unable to ever unify for any common goal forever. As she exposed their frailty and tore them to bits. That was second nature to her now, and first as well too. She fed from the run off of their miseries. As order crumbled, and chaos turned onto itself, that sweet hate flowed like a tasty river. Its nectar flowed in her veins, telling her who the next target was. Hate, rage, anger--lesser mortals build stupid beliefs on that crud, but she knew better than them now. That certainly gave her purpose, and losers something to fail at. As the world she walked on crumbled, but was never permitted to die, she became stronger. The three tribes were separated again to fight for what was left; and that constant, violent, war was a plus she enjoyed eternally. The sight would have had someone like Rainbow Dash flee in terror like a little chicken. But to her, it gave peace to her heart. Nothing was-- Gilda blinked, her jaw snapping as a moaning howl came from her mouth. She felt given pause, and she didn’t like it. Her calm heart was now shaken as she tried to pull herself forward. Dash? That name stung a bit in her mind. It played with the song, but ruined the tune for but a moment. She did stumble a bit, as some opportunistic earth ponies charged at her moment of weakness. She cleaved them into the air to reward their efforts, as the losers had it coming. That void had told her of these unending conflicts. She would let the others justify actions weakly, like the morons they were. That they had thought they were better than her was foolish. It was always hate, about it, using it, forging it, declaring it. Justice, revenge, honor, even friendships were just in defense of the dislike of certain things and people. Just giving a silly positive light to it. It made her sick how they had tricked her with otherwise. Just for their own laugh. They wonder why she got upset? They were flip flops, too stupid to even know they were. They lied, not just to her but to themselves. Anything they could do to keep what they believed truth was used without mercy to the outsiders. Enforcing it, shoving down her throat and demonizing her. All because she was something they couldn't swallow. Her day had come, just like “The Snark” promised. What the ponies thought they knew was proven wrong, and they couldn't take it. As they splintered and ran, she went after them like they did to her all that time ago. She had thought this again and again, as she dug her claws into the next batch of foes. Her pain, her anger, every bitter moment played in her as she tore the ponies around her. Her gaze as she tore them limb from limb were enough to chill the blood of the live ones. The weaker ponies fell first and died alone in frost She was their monster, playing it role the way they wanted. Only better! Cooler! Colder than they ever wanted. Fear didn’t exist to her now, nothing got her off her game. The cries and screams weren’t part of the song, and were mute in her mind. The results, the death from her actions were mute as well. Nothing of value was ever lost to her. No one is really there after all, just things to cut down. She knew, in her mind, that the ponies she fought would do the same. She knew it. The earth ponies were finished, running for their lives as the storm continued to raze their homes. Her scathing laugh followed them like a cold gale. The anger they felt, the desire to stop her, and that blame to the other ponies for failing in unity glowed out from their bodies. She could feel it as the ran and filled her, delighted her. She stood alone in the frozen wastes and... Alone? Isolated? Another sour note that hurt her head. Her standing alone seemed nice enough at first, then it just got worse. Her bitterness was starting to fall to sadness. Gilda now just stared at the red snow and torn parts as her delight felt interrupted, jolting in her guts. She was feeling sick. It was all a lie, right? She shivered as the violent blur she had been seeing slowed, revealing the frozen wastes of horrors she walked across. Near lifeless, with what lives isolated and in pain. Angry and foraging for what they could form what was left from the ruin she had made. She grit her teeth, letting her rage return, and for the song to return her enjoyment. Soon, the gore and pain no longer bothered her. She slammed her claws together, and walked through the ruin she had made. Gilda enjoyed her walks among the ruins. That beauty of destroyed plans was pretty to her mind. The better cities loathed her, and she them. They still indulged in that memory of past happiness, nostalgic of the unity that had wrecked her life. Their happiness, their plenty, their hope, she would take it all away. She would burn their children's laughter all to hell, and show them who was right in the end. The gloom age was one of suffering for the wanted creatures, like those miserable ponies. As the unwanted, the wolves among lambs like her, it was the best life to have. No more lies about good hopes. As Gilda walked farther into that city of hope she just wanted to carve more of it out. That happiness they wanted stung her eyes and throat. Some unicorns fought with powerful magics as she blew them to icy bits. Frozen ponies shattered just like their hopes. Harmony and friends were a bad joke. And soon-- Friends? That was another dropped note in the song, and it hurt again. She gripped that pain, held onto it, beat at it again and again as the ice was screaming around her. Gilda tried to find it out. Why? Why did her memories hurt her now? The more she struggled, the louder the ice got. The ice hurt, it hurt a lot. Gilda’s body now shuddered as it felt like her ribs were being cooked from inside her body. Her heart now writhed in her chest, struggling to beat faster and faster. The ponies could hear that screaming too, panicking from how abrupt the sound was. Some ran, others held their ears, and a few just fainted. Gilda now walked among the pain and screams that had been mute for so long in her mind. Her legs stumbling as she held her head. That panic took to her too as she ducked for cover to catch her breath. Only now had she realized how bad it had gotten. All the bodies become sobering visions, and the hate--all of that hate and ruin was clear to her. Her shivering stopped as her body felt froze up again. The heck is all this? Gilda thought to herself with what clarity she had. This is a nightmare! She tried to control her breathing as she could hear the suffering from all around her. The world was covered with snow and ice, and the blowing snow only now just stopped as she calmed herself. But every whisper of anger she heard excited her body again and again, threatening to pull her away to that horrific bliss. Now, Gilda was afraid of what it was. Of what it was driving her to do. On that thought, she looked to see the ponies she was facing. They were still running for their lives, calling for reinforcements. Good news, she guessed, but not for long. The former griffon clutched herself, feeling her body waver again, but feel numb. What manner of unspeakable horror was crawling in her flesh that gave her such chills? She could feel her body drift in and out of touch, even noting the lack of crunch in the snow she walked. She was cold, but her body struggled to shiver. The moment she could feel it, her skin felt like it was made of water. Rippling with every thought, and vibrating in pleasure when another drop of hate came to her. “This is power,” said the Snark voice, causing Gilda to yelp. “You stand above the weak, as all have done before. Only now, you have no low desire as they did.” She looked around, but couldn’t see him. “This is the secret of the gate of delirium! No one is ever really there, just delusions, all of it. All that’s left is to destroy it!” “I gotta...keep...going…” Gilda said as she got up on shaking legs. “Has to be a way outta this...” She caught her breath and readied herself to run past the madness she was part off. She ran under a ruined sky, past the bodies being picked clean by some opportunistic beasts. The monsters, she didn’t recognize, but the moment she was seen by them the the beasts ran without a fight. She would have taken pride from that, but that fact told her she had became a bigger monster. It couldn't be real, her memories told her that. But, even if Gilda told herself it was a nightmare, how was she to escape it? “None can escape it, G,” the Snark said as she ran from the carnage. “It’s always with them, even with those goodie goodies,” he continued in her mind while she flew off. “And in those wars, lesser things die. Alone, unwanted, forsaken. They do not care for them anyway, and that is a truth even they will deny. It's always a war to them, good and evil and what not. And even when it's not...that’s the other we know and hate so well.” “Shut up!” Gilda cried out as she stopped in the sky. Looking down, she could see the ponies below shaking their hooves at her, some even throwing things. “This isn’t how it should be!” “Then why are you here, Gilda?” the Snark commented. “After all, you’re the bad guy here.” She wanted to flee back to anger. She always knew it was better to hide her sweat than for someone to see it. As she tried her best to not listen to that song, calling her back to it's calm, she knew that wasn’t an option. That violent calm. It was like the happiest thing she felt, her blood dancing despite the rest of her trying to shut her mind to it. The clarity that didn't give empty oaths, that gave and would keep giving to her. She started to cry, it wouldn't stop. It never stopped. Gilda put as much distance between her and that crowd as she could. Thankfully, some pegasi were more intent on stopping the looting of the city in the chaos. She wasn’t going to be chased. But still, some screams followed in her mind. After clearing some distance from the ruins she went to ground, ducking behind a tree. The screams, the hate, part of her just wanted to dig into it. To consume more of it, to drink deep of it, she wanted it all. It wanted her back as much as she wanted it back. That power danced across her skin, urging her to feel better, to embrace it again. She wouldn't have to feel lonely then. Her long suffering kept her away from others, and now it was her closest friend. It hugged her chest, playing cool fingers across her neck. It only wanted her to be happy. Only Gilda didn’t want that joy anymore. Even if she wanted to reach out to it with nearly every fiber of her being. She dug her claws into her face. It would heal, it had to. That pain kept her from that calm song, but it kept her shaken as well, and her face moist with tears. She could now see her claws, withered and desiccated, near boney. For what she could tell from that glance at her body, she wouldn't have the guts to look at the rest of herself. She didn’t want to know what her horrific form looked like. The world she walked was on wasn't nice to look at still. She could see it all in her head, that hopelessness it now had. Everyone fought, each saying they were right to do so! No one cared for what the other believed either. Only that the other had to be wrong because they wasn’t them. It was that calm, direct method. She had prized it just like her dad did. Then a bunch of ponies came along and said how wrong it was, then just decided it was good to do anyway for themselves. Only they had some high ground to lord from now. Gilda shivered when she realized it was winning again in her mind. She hated it, she wanted it. The cold in her guts felt filling again. She grit her teeth and clenched her talons as a sublime pain dug about in her. Caressing her features from within and without as she shivered with delight, she looked back at her own claws. They were malformed, but sharp and strong despite looking dessicated. Memory told her how a pony could be torn in two with those. She had power, despite her warped form. It was her destiny now. She was dammed, that was the end of it. All that was left was to be the icy ruin, dragging all ponies to her misery. She dug around in her head for anything she could think of to keep herself together that wasn’t the song. “Someone?” Gilda said to herself. “Got to...make it stop…” She got up from hiding, walking along the snowy plain. Even as the wintry winds whipped at her form, she felt nothing. She wasn’t cold, like this was normal for her and the wind just went through her. Hope fell more and more out of her. The whispers that came from afar never left her mind. The ponies were alive, maybe even healthy if they were lucky. It was just she never could stand to go near them. Angry or distant, far away. She didn't see reason to have faith in them, they were there, then they weren't. That experience with Dash gave her that lesson ages ago. The song already asked her why, why she believed in what ponies kept saying even when they just abandon her. And the answer wasn't good. She couldn't argue it, it just was the same thing...again...and again. Gilda simply let herself fall over then, and her likely warped form fell into the snow. What kindness she could fathom then was that she was unable to know what she now looked like after the Snark was done with her. She lay there as the snow began to cover her, as Gilda’s thoughts went to it suffocating her. Her wings seemed to instinctively flail about, trying to save the rest of the body from being buried, even if she didn’t want it now. She felt content to die there, like so many times before then when she got like this. She’d be gone at last. Her mind felt melted and sparked as she trembled. It sucks to die like this, she knew from experience. Package Deal was a distant, but fresh memory. “Just accept it, little bird,” said the Snark softly into her mind, almost cooing to her. “It doesn’t get better than this for you after all.” A cold shiver went through her limbs as hope to escape faded. “Be certain, be mad, you can barely move without it G. The weight of it will just keep crushing...” The snow piled higher. “And crushing.” Her beak was now submerged. “...until you lose it again. And then who will save you?” The coldness dug into Gilda, denying her any freedom. She couldn't move anymore, the snow had her well buried. “No pony is going to remove that burden, so why keep fighting it?” she could hear and Gilda said nothing to counter it, the energy wasn’t there. She knew that feeling of hopelessness, like it never left her in all the time she’d been in Ponyville. No one was there when she needed them. “Maybe, you scared to be alone?” Gilda thought she heard. It was the last voice she would have expected. Her eagle eyes shot open and she forced the snow off of herself, excited to hear any voice that wasn’t hers or “The Snark”. Despite her sudden eagerness to see something, nothing was there. Anyone alive to speak off anyway. “Hey!” Gilda cried out. “Where...where are you?” She didn’t get an answer, but she did notice the sound of someone crying though. She walked cautiously to it, worried she was might be losing it again. “What if someone really wants to be your friend?” said another voice, causing the griffons to turn her head again trying to find the where it came from. Gilda found herself shivering now, the cold felt painful in her skin. It was like thousands of tiny needles were in her body, running through her blood. Maybe it was how alien things had gotten, but she forgot she could feel that. Somehow, it reminded her she was alive. Even if it hurt a lot, somehow, hope seemed to come back. “Look,” Gilda said, trembling. “it’s already a mad house here already, so…” Her body only shuddered harder. “Who are you?” She felt weak, but still wandered to the sound. Her body felt cold, with an odd burning coming to it now. That sensation made her gag for a moment. “I still believe in you,” Gilda could tell that was Fluttershy’s voice she heard. “How’d you get her?” Gilda yelled after. “Get me outta here!” No answer came, Fluttershy was clearly not there and she was feeling more of a mess as it went on. Still, she could swear something was there. Either from insanity, or worse hope. Gilda felt like she was treading on thin ice, nearly about to fall again. But that’s when she noticed where the sounds came from. That kid was there, the last thing she'd have thought of in who knows how long. Suffering tended to do a lot to ruin how to tell time, like it always did. The kid was alive, but still a mess amid the wreckage of things. How long had she been wandering in this mess? She cried alone, just like Gilda never wanted to ever admit she could ever feel like. Neither of them wanted too. It made them sick, it made them similar, it made Gilda give the the kid a hug. Gilda lifted up the crying Diamond Tiara, feeling pretty good for what felt like ages. Her fear was forgotten, maybe her pain was shared, all that stupid stuff the griffon would have laughed at if someone told her of such before now. All tears and grins. Their breathing slowed and her head felt clear again. But it wasn't the songs doing, that lousy song was mute now. “You had to have the last word on it, didn’t you Sunshine?” she said to herself as she hugged the foal tightly, with the kid nuzzling back. “It sucks,” she uttered, finding herself crying as well. “It really does suck to be alone. All that power, that wasn't happiness. With nothing, or nobody you can even believe in...” she trailed off, just content to hold her stupid, weak, flightless, and good friend. “Thanks you,” Tiara said softly as she hugged back. “Thanks for being there for me, Gilda.” Even after her angry misery, even after witnessing the terrors from beyond the vale and knowing their power, Gilda knew the truth. They were all dead, first from mortality, then from memory and forgotten. She once had wanted greatness just like her father for much of her life. Fiercely defending what little glory she thought she had in the thought it would make her immortal. Then she lost it all in something stupid and just gave up. But that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was what she now had. Things that the creatures saw as a weakness or playful hobby in the beyond. Mercy, compassion, kindness had no real value and that was that--at least it was. From Gilda’s recent experiences, to her desire to help someone just as miserable as she was, she now knew how precious that lack of value was. Even in that cold abyss of isolated savagery, Fluttershy’s odd kindness now had a place in her heart forever. And forever was a long time. Even in that hopelessness that kindness gave her hope, that her suffering had mattered. And furthermore, she now cared about the suffering of others by knowing they cared for her's too. It would keep her sane, having value in things weaker than she was. There is nothing mightier than the meek! Gilda pondered for a moment, as she cuddled with the sad bully. Tiara cuddled back, not so haughty for the moment. Even if it was an odd dream. Though the beast had power, both ruthless and unimagined, it’s power came from it’s isolation. Ever hungry, it’s misery and it’s victims were needed to keep it sustained. An eternity of hunting and horror, immortal on infamy, and not one real friend. In the visions of it's true horrific power she saw only it's own hopelessness. Immortal and unable to find happiness in anything beyond it's cruel, uncompromising domain. To Gilda’s humor, she felt she might now know what a real flip flop was. That song was a lie, giving her false confidence and keeping her in this cycle of unending pain. That song was stupid, just like that wish for it’s power. She could even see her claws now. Her talons were no longer bony and malformed, but healthy looking again. Whatever walking death she might have been was just an unhappy memory. To herself and Diamond she was not a monster of hate, nor vice versa. “Thanks for saving me,” Diamond Tiara said, taking Gilda out of her monologue. “I was so scared!” "Guess I do what I can," Gilda answered softer than she ever thought she was able too. "Someone has to give a damn about us losers, right?." Even the kid had to chuckle at that. That line was corny as crud. Then again, so was her realization a moment ago. "Let's just get out of here then," Tiara said, chuckling. "This place is totally depressing!" “No prob,” Gilda replied as she clutched the foal in her claws. “Even I know it bites.” The griffon had the strength to pull herself out of now. She took off and flew away, charging at that bleak sky line. With a roar she smashed through it, letting the bad air out. Shards of the horrid thing fell below as the weather changed back, warming back up again. The Snark had nothing now, just letting out a scream of pain as she broke through. He was just some powerful monster that confused itself for a god after all. Things only felt warmer past that. “No, no, no!” yelled the Snark from somewhere far away in echo. “Wrong! Wrong! I send you to be the wolf among lambs, and you go having compassion for those lambs? Really?!” he said in angry disbelief. “The same lambs that would just as likely take this offer? Just to tear that chicken meat from you agonized wings?” “Says you,” Gilda counted as she kept flying. “You were meant to understand that peace of mind, know the score, learn how little empathy even matters to these ponies for those they don’t like,” the Snark yelled back. “All that they offer is arbitrary, poorly written, not even real to you.” He sounded more and more frustrated as she kept focused on her escape. “I don’t believe in you anymore,” Gilda answered to him. “You not real!” “Well, if that’s how it is little bird…” the Snark said more calmly, now more chilling “If you are going to identify with your victims, it’s only fair that you join them. I’ll empty you head out like that dog I met and wear your skin like a suit.” Gilda eyes opened and got out of the way of the creatures first real attack.