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SundaySequels2 comments · 96 views
Now before people ask am I writing them now, the answer is no. But I do have plans to write sequels to three fics of mine that are already completed.
Those are: Abomination, The Gift of the Mash, and Foal.
I've mentioned that I do have plans for sequels for these and as more and more of my fics start becoming completed I'll have more time to work on those. So while I am not ready yet to work on them, I have to ask my readers this. In what order would you guys like to see which sequels from most to least. It's not a poll, but I'm rather curious.
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The figure prostrated itself beneath the immense shadow. Tangible darkness rolled off of her form and weighed him down, holding him prone through fear.
“A t-thousand apologies…” the doomsayer muttered, pulling back the hood of his cloak. “There was an… incident, milady.”
The darkness seethed, driving icy needles into his nerves. “Were you seen?”
He shook his head. “Only by a dead pony.”
She growled angrily, causing the black mists swirling around her form to condense into patches of frost on his coat, and he shivered all the more violently.
“Need I remind you what is at stake for you, slave?”
He pressed his head against the dirt, clenching his eyes closed. “N-no…”
A pair of raven wings spread threateningly above him like those of a fallen angel, casting a shadow over the darkness of night itself. “Then you would do well to remember that you are only useful to me so long as you remain uncaptured,” she snarled. “Explain yourself…”
Slowly, he raised his eyes from the ground, peering up at the darkened monarch. “I… I…”
“It is as I thought,” she sneered, inky eyes narrowing. “You merely lack the courage to–”
“Th-the Elements of Harmony, milady!” he blurted.
She twitched, eyes narrowing and consuming what light remained into them as though they were black holes.
“Th-they… I did as you asked,” he wept, burying his face into his hooves. “The citizens… they heeded my words… they were convinced the end approached. Hope lay dying within them,” he sniffed. “But they…”
The figure pulled back the hood on her cloak. A multihued black-and-gray mane rolled off her head.
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