Luna's Lacunae

by kudzuhaiku

Chapter 19

“Sorceress Maeve, there is something I wanted to talk to you about,” Princess Celestia said in a low voice as she set down her fork after having finished a large bowl of salad. The alicorn lifted up a napkin, wiped her already clean muzzle, and then put the napkin down.

“Yeah?” Maeve looked up from her own salad, which was colourful with many different types of vegetables and had pieces of hard boiled egg in it. Maeve found that it took effort to eat and consuming her salad was taking a bit more time than usual.

Celestia cleared her throat and then looked Maeve in the eye. “I have a nephew. His name is Blueblood. I do not wish to speak ill of him, but he was known for being a bit boorish at times. As it turns out, he was part of the advanced grip the changelings had upon this castle and they subverted his mind and his loyalties.” Princess Celestia sighed and her face fell. “He shall be returning home soon. I have received word that he is ready to come home.”

“And you are worried about me meeting him?” Maeve asked. She watched as Celestia nodded. Maeve stabbed her fork into her salad, speared a red bell pepper piece, some onion, a bit of egg, and a few spinach leaves. “I just hope that he doesn’t freak out.”

“That is my sincere hope as well.” Princess Celestia poured herself a glass of iced tea, added lemon, and then lifted the glass to her lips so she could sip it. She stared down the table, looking distracted and perhaps a bit sad.

“”So Bluebad—”

“Blueblood,” Celestia corrected, the corners of her lips twitching upwards.

“So Blueblood was kind of a bad pony but it turns out his mind was being controlled by something making him bad?” Maeve asked with her mouth full. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not nice. Who would do such an awful thing?”

“Changelings. They had a plot to take over Canterlot. Blueblood has always acted just a little entitled… which I suppose is my fault. I spoiled him. The changelings took advantage of that and under their control, he became quite a jerk. Ponies grew to hate him. He has been gone for years now. He joined a cloister of mental aesthetics.” Celestia set her tea down and stared off through the window. “Sorceress Maeve, I know it is a lot to ask, but could you try to be his friend? You were not here during the unpleasantness. You did not see him at his worst. As such, it is my hope that he might open up to you. He will have no shame of mistreating you or guilt over previous interactions.”

“I guess I can try, but a lot of ponies are weirded out by me.” Maeve ate another bite of salad chewed in a thoughtful manner, looking at Celestia as the white pony princess stared out the window. Still chewing, Maeve asked, “What are changelings?”

“They are wretched creatures that assume different forms, stealing the likeness of others. They destroy trust, feed on love, and have no redeemable qualities of any sort,” Celestia replied. She turned to look Maeve in the eye. “I hope that you never meet them.”

---

Maeve awoke with a headache. She blinked, looking around, her vision blurry. Beside her bed was a brownie. She had laid down for a little nap after lunch and she had no memory of falling asleep. Sitting up in her bed, she looked around her room. She looked at her sword and her crown, yawned, and then thought about going back to sleep.

She swung her legs out over the edge of the bed and her bare feet touched the cool stone floor. She wiggled her toes on the floor, enjoying the coolness against her sensitive feet, and eyed the brownie on her bedside table. She looked at her pillow, expecting to see blood, but there was nothing but a few frizzy orange hairs.

Standing up, Maeve wobbled off to her bathroom. As she neared the door, she came to an irritating conclusion. If she kept growing taller, she was going to have to start ducking her head to get through the door. The ceiling was getting closer too.

Passing through the doorway, Maeve remembered her mother. Her mother was a giant, tall, thin, beautiful. Her mother had been so very tall. Maeve wondered how tall she would be. She knew that she was taller than most girls her age, at least, she had been over a year ago back when she still lived among the humans.

There was a somewhat painful memory of being teased when she was little, other children teasing her that her mother was a giant. Being teased for having red hair. Being teased for freckles.

In the bathroom, Maeve remembered her mother’s gentleness. Her mother was fair and beautiful, but also strong. Maeve had hazy memories of her mother splitting wood with a maul and doing strenuous things that men would do. There was also the time when her mother had lifted a wagon; the wheel had broken, Maeve’s mother had grabbed the wagon by the back end, and with a powerful heave, she had lifted the wagon up, holding it long enough for a new wheel to be attached to the axle. Maeve had only realised her mother’s strength later on, when she was older, and had been exposed to more people. People who were weak and couldn’t just lift up a wagon full of goods.

When Maeve passed by the mirror, she saw her mother’s face and her red hair reflected back at her. Maeve smiled at the freckled face in the mirror and then set out to finish her business in the bathroom.

---

After emerging from her room, Maeve strode down the hallway, enjoying the feeling of her skirts swishing around her legs. She walked with as much elegance as she could muster, placing one foot in front of the other, walking heel to toe, wobbling as she went.

The brownie had been delicious.

The world around her felt alive somehow, the colours were far more vibrant and everything was beautiful. Maeve felt beautiful, a peculiar sensation. She could feel a cool breeze circulating around her knees and thighs as her skirts swished. Maeve felt as though she was floating more than walking, boosting her confidence, giving her a feeling of grace and poise. She walked with her head high, her eyes wide, a smile upon her face.

She raised her right hand as she walked, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Multicoloured lights began to dance around her fingers, cool light, illumination without heat. As magic surged through her body, her hair stood on end, but Maeve was unaware that this was happening.

Almost skipping down the hall, Maeve giggled as she made the globes of light dance around her right hand. Maeve felt light, not just light headed, but almost as if she would start floating at any moment. She could feel the magic coursing through her body now, it caused a heady rush that made Maeve feel giddy. Maeve could feel a growing pressure behind her eyes, but it was a pleasant pressure, almost like a sneeze.

The hallway was filled with dancing lights now, globes of glowing faerie fire. They swirled around Maeve and the girl began to giggle. The glowing orbs crackled with strange energy and Maeve reveled in her control over them.

“You do not even realise what you are.”

That was Lunn’s voice. Maeve paused, wondering why she was remembering his voice. She did not like having her happy moment tainted by his voice. She had killed him, cut him down, she had made him screech for all of his cruelties.

Overcome by a strange compulsion to return to her room, Maeve reversed her direction and headed back towards her door. Magic. The magic was flowing now. It took no effort at all. Raising her hand, Maeve made a gesture at her door. It shuddered, it rattled, and then it did her bidding, opening wide to allow her entrance. Maeve began to giggle as the intoxicating thrill of her magic filled her mind.

She entered her room, not fully aware of what she was doing, giggling, her eyes wide and manic looking. All of her hair stood on end. Static electricity crackled all up and down her clothing.

Extending her right hand, she waggled her fingers at Choróin ar an Bitseach, willing her crown to come to her. She needed her crown. Somehow, she knew that the crown would relieve the strange pressure in her head. She beckoned at her crown once more, making a gesture with her hand. The crown flew from its stand, engulfed in faerie fire.

The moment the crown touched Maeve’s head, settling into a wild nest of hair like some small bird, Maeve felt the flow of magic become overwhelming. She could feel her guts writhing and there was strange pressure in her chest. Her heart was thudding and she could feel the forceful pounding in her throat.

Extending her hand, she gestured at Lann na Gealaí Dubh. The sword sprang to life, soaring through the air, illuminated by a multicolour aura of magical fire. Maeve clutched the handle in her right hand, it was warm and it seemed to have a pulse.

“Lann na Gealaí Dubh... I know your name… I know your name,” Maeve said in a strange, raspy voice that was not her own. It caused everything around her to vibrate. She lifted the blade up, raising the hilt to her lips. She kissed the crossguard, her eyes closing, and Maeve felt a thousand strange thoughts filling her mind.

She heard voices, strange voices. Lunn’s voice. Oonagh’s voice. Nilzebog’s voice. She heard their mocking laughter. She heard their cruel words. And then, as a smile spread across Maeve’s lips, she heard their screams. Maeve had been their end. Maeve had been their ruin. The girl opened her eyes, her body now consumed in cool, flickering purple flames.

The bandages upon Maeve’s right arm burned away, consumed by fire that did not burn Maeve. The scorched flesh bubbled like wax, but Maeve did not cry out for there was no pain. Entranced, Maeve had no idea what was going on, but it felt good.

Words were said in Maeve’s mind, words that she did not know, a language that she could not speak. Maeve felt her body moving, but she had no control over it. She backed away from the wall, moving towards the center of the room, her burned arm still bubbling. Somehow, her room seemed smaller, the ceiling seemed closer, and the floor appeared to be farther away.

Strange words began to tumble out of Maeve’s mouth, words she had no knowledge of, words that made her tongue tingle and her lips go numb. It felt good. Maeve closed her eyes, lost in the rapture of magic. Her feet no longer touched the floor.

She raised her sword, the blade vibrating, and held it out in front of her. Her right arm flexed and quivered as she clutched the grip of Lann na Gealaí Dubh. With a fluid motion, she sliced downwards in a chopping arc, cutting open reality in front of her. The room filled with a bright, piercing, blinding light.

Maeve floated back from the rift, her feet still hovering above the floor. Her eyes were still closed, she was unseeing, blind, and the flesh of her left arm grew darker as the skin bubbled like stew in a pot. There was an almost deafening droning sound now.

In the distance, hooves could be heard clattering over the stone floor.

Consumed by magic, almost mad laughter spilling out of her mouth, Maeve made a gesture towards the rift with her sword. Blue and purple light began to spill out of the rift.

A tall figure stepped through the rift and as it entered, Maeve fell silent. The rift vanished and Maeve’s sword clattered to the floor. Maeve, suspended in the air, went limp as the magic all around her died.

Before Maeve could fall to the floor and injure herself, the tall figure caught her, sweeping her up in long arms, clutching her, and pulling her close before kissing her upon the cheek.

Author's Note:

Cliffhanger!

Comments

[Kuroy]

Curses

[Sigmacipher]

Well the inclusion of changelings is nice...I still have no idea what happened at the end though.

[marcelojj]

Frack ! And I mean it, FRACK !!!! Maeve´s mother was...IS not human !!!! Yes, you know who came through the rift !!!!! Mama time !!!!!!!

[kudzuhaiku]

6314773

Nope. She's dead.

[marcelojj]

6314785 Now I´m worried....

[kudzuhaiku]

6314789

I might get around to the next chapter within a week or three.

[Syroc]

Cliffhanger!

You MONSTER!

[marcelojj]

6314810
6314810 I won´t fall for your trap....teaser !

[zero588]

6314785

Awesome ending, great job!

[Captain Nibbles]

6315225 Knowing Kudzu as the impossible maniac he is. Probably.

[Raul]

Oh, so one of those swords.

Welp, let's see how this declines.

[McBehrer]

Her mother was definitely a Fey.