Velvet Sparkle and the Queen in Stone
By Tundara
Part Seven
The duel took place beneath an old oak tree a little ways from the manor. Planted shortly after the War of the Sun and Moon by Sunset Sparkle in honour of the family lost, it had always been a place of quiet comfort and reflection. A memorial stone, covered in the names of the Sparkles lost defending Equestria, stood next to the tree. The network of glyphs and runes etched upon its back by the matrons of old, and added to by their descendants, powered an ancient enchantment.
Naturally, most were Harmonious and Bright runes. The precise function of the enchantment had been lost for centuries. The common theory was that it acted as an anchor for a Blessing designed to protect the manor, town, and surrounding fields. Velvet placed her hoof on the series of alterations she’d made shortly after returning from the Taiga. Using the runes she’d learned from the Halla and Algol, Velvet managed to intensify the field’s strength. Next to the memorial stone it was almost impossible to cause lasting harm to a Sparkle.
This made it the perfect spot for Shining and Pennant to duel.
The pair in contention stood a few yards apart, speaking to their seconds. Cadence for Shining, while Two-Step gave advice to Pennant.
Not that either particularly needed advice. Shining and Pennant knew the other’s style and methods almost by heart. They’d been trained by the same tutors until leaving home, then diverged along predictable paths. The styles and lessons of the Royal Guard and Navy were not exactly a secret. Neither was surprised when Shining selected a longsword, nor Pennant a sabre, both weapons dulled as an added precaution.
“This is an honour duel,” Glitterdust said in a loud stage-voice, giving each combatant a piercing look until they nodded. “There is to be no biting, kicking, or spells higher than a class two. Anypony who thinks to continue after a point is scored, we will step in.”
There was little doubt who the ‘We’ included.
Keeping her spot behind Shining, Cadence gave Velvet a last, pleading look to intervene. A slight shake of her head was all the indication Velvet gave that she even noticed. Around her, the rest of the House gathered. Spike, no longer moping at being left behind by Twilight, sat between Elegant and Melody, the three quietly making bets. Adamant seemed mostly confused, leaning up against Limelight, she more interested in the birds singing in the tree than the duel. Star hadn’t come down from the manner. Between Velvet and Whisper, Tyr sat, wrapped in a thick, enchanted blanket, peering intently at her foster father.
“Get her, father,” Tyr’s shouted in a reedy croak, following it with the closest approximation to a whoop she could manage.
Velvet pressed her lips into a thin line. She strongly disagreed with Cadence allowing Tyr to observe the duel. Bed rest was what she required, not sitting out in the mid-april breeze. But she was not Tyr’s mother, and as such, the decision was not hers to make.
There was no further time to contemplate Tyr as the first ring and shout sounded the duel’s start.
Ever the student of Lady Bright’s attack philosophy to never mind the maneuvers, Pennant rushed towards Shining. Velvet frowned at the sloppiness of Pennant's initial rush, Shining easily turning aside Pennant’s attack then slapping her across the flank with the flat of his blade.
“Point!” Glitterdust cried, hoof pointed to Shining.
Shining blew a kiss to Cadence, and a wink for Tyr, while Pennant scowled.
“This is going to be short,” Velvet remarked to Whisper, who gave a little nod.
The combatants returned to their starting positions, and at Glitterdust’s cry of ‘Commence’ both came out strong.
A quick series of snapping thrusts from Pennant was followed by Shining turning her sabre wide. Velvet grimaced, anticipating Shining’s next move; a fast trot inside Pennant’s reach and then a stinging smack to Pennant’s shoulder. Yelping, her expression growing darker, Pennant retreated back to Two-Step.
The third bout was furious, and far longer. Shining abandoned his confident grin as he was forced to work at turning Pennant’s sword aside. Spells made their appearance in the form of shoves and counter-spells. Here, Velvet was almost impressed by Pennant, the young mare showing a previously hidden skill at brutal, efficient measures to knock and jostle. These were the tactics of a boarding party; no finesse, but carrying a strong, moral advantage that beared down on the enemy.
Velvet sat up straighter, surprised as Pennant began to force Shining back in a slow, long circle. Shining wielded his sword with valiant determination, deflecting Pennant’s blade and magic.
A heavy thrust brought about the duel’s end, Shining catching the sabre on his crosspiece, then bringing the pommel hard against his sister’s face. Pennant collapsed like a sack of flour at her brother’s hooves.
“That was… a good go, Pen,” Shining said as he regained his breath in the stunned silence.
“Pennant,” several voices cried out together as the shock at the sudden end passed. Velvet, Whisper, and Glitterdust all rushed to Pennant, helping the stunned young mare into a sitting posture.
Blood flowed freely down the side of her face from a long gash at the base of her mane. Velvet winced as she checked the wound and called for Two-Step to bring a bottle of Sparkle Ointment. The wound was not deep, thankfully, though it bled profusely, as head wounds were wont to do. Whisper covered her mouth and had to turn away, turning green under her already pale coat.
Tutting while she and Glitterdust cleaned the cut, Velvet said, “Well, that could have been worse. You’re lucky. Dueling your brother like a mad minotaur, what were you thinking?”
Pennant was silent at first, her gaze fixed at the dirt between her herd-mothers. Shaking her head, Velvet pulled together a half-dozen runes to form a spell, one she hadn’t used in many years. Like all spells, the formation came back with little thought, stretching through Velvet’s horn and engulfing Pennant’s brow in a soft, flickering light. After a few moments the cut closed, a thin white scar in its place.
“How did—” Glitterdust began to ask.
“What do you know about dueling?” Pennant huffed, wiping the blood from her eye and leaving a red smear down her muzzle.
Frowning, Shining took a step towards his sister. “Mother—”
“I do not need you to defend me, Shining,” Velvet held up a hoof to stay him. “I’ve been in many duels, Pennant, as you well know.”
Pennant hesitated, looking away. “I know…”
“Something else is wrong,” Velvet reasoned, receiving a stiff nod in return. “And I gather this has to do with Twilight?” Another nod.
“She isn’t our sister,” Pennant sighed, her defiant posture wilting. “I don’t… I don’t know what to…”
Velvet moved around to Pennant’s side, sitting down next to her while Whisper watched, her mouth a pinched line, and uncertainty flitting behind her eyes.
“She was the best of us, mother!” Pennant burst, waving a hoof in the direction of Canterlot. “She was the smartest, most powerful, and talented unicorn ever produced by not just House Sparkle, but perhaps ever. You said so yourself so many, many times.” Pausing to gather her thoughts, Pennant trembled against Velvet’s side. “I tried so hard to be like her, we all do, and you don’t see it. Even Melody and Elegant, and they were still little when Twilight moved to Canterlot. She… We just…”
“You’ve made a small error, dear. I never said Twilight was the most powerful unicorn. What I’ve always said is that she is the most powerful member of House Sparkle, and possibly the most powerful pony. Minor details, pedantic, even, but important ones.” Velvet patted Pennant’s withers. “And, don’t feel too bad. Shining’s ten years older, and far more experienced. You did good, Pennant, on that last go.”
“Thank you, mother,” came Pennant’s dull, mechanical response.
“Now, you want to hear about a real beating, than I need to tell you about my time with the Diamond Dogs…”
Our chains rattled and clanked as Juniper and I were led deep below the surface. With hooves shackled together and blinders keeping our vision firmly ahead, the most we could do was shuffle through the rough hewn stone. Each of my hooves ached, but my right-fore was the worst, small cracks along the toe making me limp. My head was no better, still pounding from the lingering effects of magical exhaustion.
I tried to fight, weary as I was, and for my effort they muzzled me and linked my hind legs so I could no longer kick. Blood ran down my nose from a gash on my brow, my eye stuck shut as the blood set.
The dozen or so Diamond Dogs that had captured Juniper and I chuckled at our misfortune.
Ahead of me, Juniper whimpered and sobbed. Each time she grew too loud, the dog leading us would turn and cuff her across the muzzle. Across the dog’s back hung Llallawynn, the mystical blade’s pommel a blue so dark it was almost black. He’d tried to draw the blade after claiming it, but she refused to be removed from her scabbard.
It was in this state of misery, with no hope of escape, that we were dragged into Gur Moloch.
City of the northern dogs, Gur Moloch was built within a great chasm beneath Mount Moloch, a barren mountain deep within the Taiga. A thousand bridges crossed back and forth, high above a hissing black river carved through the earth. We were led along one of the narrow streets built into the chasm’s face, dogs staring at us the entire way from the bridges and balconies dotting the walls. Every now and then, a subsidiary chasm containing more of the city would branch off and disappear from sight.
Some of these branches contained terraced farms. Others rumbled and roared with the glow and ringing rumble of furnaces and hammers.
Overhead, so far it seemed to be a pale echo of the true sky, glowing mosses and mushrooms lit the ceilings and walls in soft blues and greens. Most of the light came from oil fed lamps that filled the ceiling with smoke and the air with their pungent odor. Rare were the civilized glow-stones, placed only at key intersections and bridges.
On and on it went, the city vast beyond many in Equestria. Rounding a bend, our destination came into sight. A giant, circular arena sat atop a spire at the chasm’s heart. Seven bridges, each larger than any I’d seen made by ponies, fed dogs to the arena. Red and gold banners fluttered in the slight but persistent wind that whistled through the city, though it was soon drowned out as a cheer rose from the arena’s crowd.
We were led across a service bridge and into the warrens beneath the arena.
The stench of untreated filth and blood struck my nose at once as a thick, iron grate clattered shut behind me, barring any retreat. A slap to my flank informed me to hurry along towards our destination. We were brought to a smallish room with a table covered in straps, buckles, and a myriad of tools stained red with dry blood.
Nickering, I attempted to back away, only to fall, tripping over my chains and striking my flank hard on the stone floor.
The dogs only laughed, kicking me in my ribs.
“What’s this, what’s this? More meat for the games? My oh my, ain’t you pups been a busy lot,” chortled a low, wheezing voice. “Well, let’s have a look at what we got.” Clawed paws pulled away my blinders, allowing me to stare up into a round, pittbull face of a squat bitch (and I want to remind you, it’s not swearing if I am talking about a dog, so stop your sniggering Melody).
Dragged to my hooves, I was poked and prodded, the bitch (Spike!) the bitch—
“Really now?” Velvet put on a severe scowl, one directed at the writhing mass of giggling fillies, drake, and colt that spread out in front of her. Even Tyr was laughing, though her’s were of a wheezy, hiccupping nature.
Trying hard to keep a straight face, Glitterdust patted Velvet on the withers. “You could have chosen another descriptor, love.”
“But, she was a bitch!” Velvet protested, following up with, “Hush now!” as the giggling grew into a rolling set of guffaws. There was a whip-snap to her voice that commanded attention as she asked, “Do you want me to continue the story or not?”
At once the laughter vanished, and the foals and drake sat up perfectly straight and intoned, in the most solemn and differential of voices, “Yes, Mother. Sorry, Mother. Please continue the story. We’ll be good, promise.”
“That’s better.” Velvet pointedly ignored Cadence as the princess rolled her eyes. “Right, so, the… Helen—that was her name—poked and prodded me…”
“Fine stock. A little banged about, though. Did your lads do that to her?” She gave a piercing glare at the dog that had dragged me into the city.
He shook his shaggy head and, in a nasal tone, said, “Weren’t us, Matron. Were the Deadies, if me be right. Found her and the twig just outside the Deadies’ tunnels.”
“A fighter then? Could always use more fighters.” She clicked her tongue as she surveyed me again, and I stared back at her. “Yeah, yeah, she has the look. And it’s been a while since we saw a pony in the arena. Thirty sheks for the pony, and five for the scrawny twig.”
“Five?” the lumbering brute holding our leads grumbled. “You paid ten for the last twig we’s brought you.”
“Last twig you broughts weren’t some little pup that’ll get snapped in two its first go. I ain’t gots to take it. Don’t needs it neither. You could try the farmers or the miners. They might pay for a twig to pull a cart. Won’t get more from ‘em though.”
The matron wiped away a line of snot dripping down her nose with her thumb, waiting while the other dog considered her offer. He looked Juniper over, the poor dear trembling hard and clutching my side.
“Fine. But only cause I ain’t wanting to drag it back across the city.”
After our captor received his coins, Juniper and I began our new lives as slaves.
The dogs, it turned out, were not as stupid as their rough dialect or watery eyes had led me to believe. The first thing they did was put a proper inhibitor band around my horn. One made of stout iron that cut into the surface, leaving shallow scratches, as it was fitted and tightened. Unlike the band of magic suppressing wood the dryads had used to help me recover, this band’s sole purpose was to prevent magic from flowing through my horn.
Even the most basic telekinetics were beyond me so long as it remained.
We were taken to a series of cells deeper within the pitts, beaten and harried if we showed any sign of resistance… and sometimes just for fun.
I learned very quickly to bide my time and restrain my anger.
Juniper and I were tossed into filth and left to wait. The cell was spacious, meant for as many as a dozen ponies with old, rusted ring bolts on the walls to hold a length of chain. Besides Juniper and I, there was only one other occupant in the cell.
Sombra—
“What did you just say?” Cadence yelled, her voice thundering across the grassy hills of Sparkle Dale. “How? Where did you hear that name?”
The princess towered over Velvet, wings fully extended to create a feathery barrier. A spell had already started to form on the tip of her horn, and her eyes darted to the shadows, as if expecting him to emerge at the mere mention of his name like a mythical demon from the shadows.
Shining was the only pony not shocked at the force of the interruption. Crystal Guards at the base of the hill shot agitated glances towards the family, a couple tensing their necks. A wave from Shining and a slow, assuring shake of his head was enough to prevent the guards from marching up the hill.
“Settle down, love,” Shining said with a few calming nickers. “He was some wizard that—”
“A wizard? He was… He… The things he did…” Cadence struggled for several more moments, her muzzle contorting as she tried to come up with an explanation without giving any long held family secrets away. Velvet withheld a private smile, knowing all too well the ancient crimes Sombra had committed. In the end, Cadence settled on, “He betrayed Celestia and Luna, Shining!” and began to pace while the Sparkles watched in mute concern. “And… And Nightmare Moon claimed he was my father, and—”
A sharp, dancing laugh from Velvet broke through Cadence’s agitation, the princess stopping to give her a sharp glare.
“Apologies, Your Highness,” Velvet quickly said, doing her best to stem her humour, “but, two points, if I may. First: Nightmare Moon is not exactly a reliable source. If it were Luna, it could have been another matter, if not for my second point. Sombra was a male kirin.”
Cadence blushed and settled her wings, head hanging in something near shame.
Wearing a slight frown, Glitterdust said, “I don’t see what his race has to do with anything.”
Velvet let her smile grow as Whisper leaned towards Glitterdust, and whispered so that only they could hear, "Kirin colts were gelded."
“Oh…” Glitterdust muttered, blushing herself now. “Oh my, that would create a problem, wouldn’t it?”
Sombra lay in a corner, three inhibitors clasped to his horn. His cloak and armour were gone, showing a hide covered in a patchwork of scars. His was a back carrying a terrible weight, the bubbled scars of burns interlaced with puckered white lines. There were too many to make sense of them all, far more than could be acquired in one lifetime. Many should have been fatal.
He didn’t move or acknowledge Juniper and I for minutes, his eyes half-lidded, and his chest slow to rise and fall.
“So,” he finally said in his deep, hauty burr, “the fool yet lives.”
Sombra rolled his head to peer at me through the gloom and torchlight, a frown playing at his lips.
“You… You’ve changed.” He raised himself to a sitting position, all sense of boredom melting away. “The Darkness, it has stared into you and found you to its liking. How… appropriate.”
Turning away from Sombra with a huff, I focused my attention to something more productive than listening to mad ramblings, like inspecting the bars for weaknesses.
“One who would break Iridia from her just prison should be as bleak and broken as she, yes.” Chains rattled behind me as Sombra lowered his head once more to his crossed hooves.
He returned to his silence, ignoring me for a length that I can not remember. It could have been minutes, or hours, or even days. I inspected the walls and bars I don’t know how many times, and the truth is the period in the cell has all blurred together now.
It was far from silent in that moldy, squalid hole. Aside from Juniper, a constant source of chattering, there were the rings of distant smithy hammers, the guttural growls of the guards, and the humming clang of swords clashing in practice, all echoing down to the cell. The sapling was an endless font of curiosity and misery. She was either following in my shadow, or curled up in a corner sobbing. When the dogs brought us food, a plate of some milky mushroom slop, she refused to eat, and hid behind me.
Eventually, embolden by our relative solitude, Juniper left my side and slide up to Sombra. His ear flicked towards her, a crimson eye cracking open when she shuffled closer.
“So, you are the ancient Old Mima was helping?” She craned up her neck, peering down on the crystal in his chest. “I was the one she had bringing you food, because I am the oldest of the saplings.” Juniper waited for a response, and when she received none, she resumed her chattering. “Does it hurt?”
“It does not.” Sombra’s eye cracked open again. “And no, it can not be removed. I… No, Moondream, I was not going to be mean to the sapling. It is merely following its nature.”
“What’s she like?” Juniper settled down next to Sombra, mimicking his posture and disinterested air. His constant shifting to talk to the voices in his head did not perturb Juniper in the least. “The Dreamer, I mean.”
“She prattles.” An amused huff was followed by a scowl. I watched with growing concern as the mad stallion lashed his tail from side to side, ears falling back as the scowl revealed his predatory fangs. “I told you already, I will not help her. She’s received enough aid from more reputable sources. Need I remind you what will happen if Spring’s Bane is awoken? … No. … I said no. … Repeating the—Fine!”
There was magic in the exclamation, enough to make the cell rumble and scatter dust.
“Moondream believes I should train you to control the Dark runes.”
“I already know how to control them,” I retorted with venom. “Love and other positive emotions, they act as shields against their predations.”
“They can, and certainly are useful. But, what if you didn’t have to pay the price at all?” A wicked, frightful glint sparked deep within his eye, one that promised suffering. “The Bright Runes of the Archons require faith. An Alicorn Harmonious Rune is selective in nature, while the Quus’ Chaotic Runes are wild and unpredictable in many regards. Dark Runes, forged by the Demonic Kings and Queens, why, they have their prices; but nothing states whom must pay the price.”
“I won’t force that burden on another.” I turned away, my muzzle crinkling in abject disgust. “I managed them before, I can do so again.”
“Very well, I’ve offered. When you’re ready to learn, I will be here.” He slid his eyes shut and returned to his reverie.
Scooting to me, Juniper held her head low. “Don’t listen to him. Old Mima said that Dark runes were a curse sent to the unicorns by the demons.”
“I can believe it.” My hooves played with the damp straw covering the floor. “They keep whispering to me.”
Velvet paused in her tale, the next words catching in her throat as her memories of those dark days clashed with the expectant, young faces beaming up at her.
“What happened next, mother?” Elegant scootched a little closer. “How did you get out of the Diamond Dog’s prison?”
“I bet she tricked the guards, like Daring Do while searching for the Golden Shawl of Eternia.” Melody gave a sage nod, hoof on her chin. “Lured them close, and then, bam! Blasted them.”
“I—”
“No, it’s going to be more like in the Lady of Rings, when Barrow and the Thirteen Ponies snuck out of the Unicorn Queen’s castle inside cheese crates.” This came from Spike, a triumphant claw pointed upwards.
“Actually—”
“Please, that’s so silly.” Adamant rolled his eyes and jumped between Melody and Spike to gain their attention. “I’m eight, and I know how silly that sounds. No, it will be like—”
“Sit down, Adamant,” Melody and Spike barked at the same time, the pair giving the colt a withering glare.
A cough from Whisper brought the brewing argument to a screeching halt. The quartet snapped to attention, forming a neat line with wide, innocent grins. It always amazed Velvet how the young so effortlessly projected cuteness.
“We’re sorry,” they intoned together, following the apology with a hung-dog expression meant to ensure sympathy. “Please, Mother, could you continue the story?”
“No.” Velvet shook her head and pointed at a group of local pegasi who’d started forming a spring shower. “We need to head inside.”
Into the manor they went, though not without additional pleas for more of the story. Little good it did them, as Glitterdust whisked them away with a promise of iced lemonade and hay fries covered in gravy and soft cheese. Cadence and Shining took Tyr back to her room, Velvet and Pennant following.
Once Tyr was settled, and the door closed, Velvet cast a spell to seal them within, and keep curious foals at bay. What was about to come, Velvet didn’t want the youngsters to hear.
Cadence, inspecting the spellwork, remarked, “What runes did you just use?”
“I…” Velvet’s voice drifted as she realised that she’d incorporated a Dark rune. She shook her head. A foolish mistake. She’d been falling too deep into old memories and terrible habits were surfacing. Even worse, she’d bent the runes in ways that left a sick pitt in her stomach. “Iridia, I am becoming such an old mare.”
Stripping the ward, Velvet formed a less effective spell, but one that wouldn’t hurt any curious foals or passers-by.
Pushing past the mistake, one she wouldn’t repeat, Velvet turned to Tyr. “Love, before I resume, I am going to warn you the next part gets a bit… violent.”
“‘Violent’? Ha-ha!” Tyr beat her hooves against her covers. “I doubt you’ll be able to disturb me.”
Shining frowned, while Cadence looked saddened, recalling her tail of ponies hanged by their own entrails until the brink of death, and then healed so the process could be repeated each dawn for the remainder of the thief’s natural life.
“Very well.” Velvet bowed her head.
“So, the day of what was to be my first fight arrived…”
We were taken from the pitt, Juniper and I, and up to one of the higher levels where they prepared the lesser slaves: those intended to die. Our owner was waiting, the pitbull sitting beside a door to a small room.
“That’ll be enough,” she said to the guards, waving them away. “I’s got it from here.”
The guards said little, and departed with a kick to my flank as they turned. Growling at the guards backs, the pitbull waved Juniper and I into the room.
Inside, we found a fresh meal laid out on a table waiting for us with a bath in a corner behind a privacy screen. Otherwise the room was barren.
Pointing at the table, the pitbull told us to sit and eat.
“Well, here we are, at last.” She gave me a big grin. “The start of the games. You lucky, pony. You’ll be in the first match of the season. Very big honour, very big. Eat, eat, you will want to be strong, ha-ha!”
The dog clapped her paws with a giddy laugh like a gurgling drain. In a flash, I spun and cocked my hind legs to kick. The moment my weight started to pivot back, hooves shooting out like steam powered pistons, I was dropped to the floor by a weight on my horn.
“Oo-hoo! I’s right. You’s got spirit. A fighter’s in you, little unicorn.” Her paws clapped with greater zeal.
Breath hissing through clenched teeth, I reached up to the inhibitor on my horn: the source of my pain. Glyphs glowing, it used my own magic to keep me pinned, like a walrus had decided to lay on my back. The inhibitor would not allow me to harm the bitch.
She withdrew a control rod from her grungy clothes, a set of robes that once would have been rather expensive and ornate, but were now covered in old stains of grease and dirt, with thin, faded colours. A wave of the rod removed the hex keeping me pinned.
“You not going to try any silliness again, are you, unicorn?”
“No,” I lied as I pushed myself up, attempting to appear chastised.
“Good!” Using the control rod as if it were a baton, she directed me to a spot at the table. “While you eat, I speak. Ha-ha! I… nevermind, not funny.” She coughed into a paw, then sat down across from us.
Between us sat a couple plates, one with various over boiled vegetables and roots, the other with a roast chicken. Tearing off a leg, the bitch took a big bite, tendrils of greasy meat dangling from the corners of her mouth and dribbling onto the front of her robes. My stomach twisted into a ball, my gorge rising at the slurping and crunching. Juniper had turned an even darker shade of green with a reddish tinge around her eyes as she fought to control herself.
“So, unicorn, this how it is. You are the property of me, Helen.” She hooked a thumb at herself. “Your purpose is to fight, and not die.” Helen tossed the bone aside and grabbed the next piece of chicken. “There will be four other groups in this match. The halla won’t give you much trouble, so long as you give them a wide berth. The gladiators will concentrate on them. Kill if can, but stay alive more important. You live, you get easier games.”
I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from snapping. As Helen kept repeating, my goal was to survive. The inhibitor would make that all but impossible, however.
“How your magic?” Helen gave me a stern glare over the thigh she was gnawing upon.
“Oh… Just… um… I know a little magic. Some spells, to help if your… uh… in trouble.” I twisted my face up and looked away, attempting to make it seem like I was lying about knowing more, rather than less. Reaching up, I tapped the inhibitor. “I can’t do anything with this… thing, th—”
“No!” Helen smacked her paw on the table with a moist splat. “Arena sacred. No magic. Unicorn risky enough without magic.”
“Look at me, look at us,” I gestured frantically between me and Juniper. “Do I look like I can use real, proper, honest-to-goodness spells?”
Helen considered me some more with those cold, beady eyes.
“What you do if I turn off inhibitor?”
“Well,” I licked my lips to settle my jittering nerves, sensing I was so close to my goal. “I know how to use a sword…”
“Sword? With hooves? Ha-ha!” Helen’s eyes crinkled up as she was overcome by mirth, her jowls shaking as she laughed. “Use sword with magic? Not so sure…”
I pressed my own hooves on the table, and leaned towards her a little, putting a pleading knot in my voice, making my eyes as big as possible. “You said there are going to be halla, surely they use their magic, right?” Helen stopped laughing. “Or not… but I can’t do anything without my aura. Just… if you turn the inhibitor off I’ll at least have a chance. And, you want me to survive, right? You said so just a minute ago.”
Helen was silent for a long while, running her thumb over the control rod.
“You are right, pony.” With a grunt, Helen stood and trundled off to a back room. When she came back, she held a long dress-like suit of armour. “Here, put on. Look fierce.”
Rather than argue, pointless as it would have been, I grabbed the armour, and with Juniper’s assistance, shucked it on.
It was not armour, as I first thought, but robes. Black, with hundreds of little triangular pieces of metal sewn throughout that shimmered when I moved. They draped down my flanks and legs, strategic cuts allowing for freedom of movement, and alluring flashes of my off-white coat beneath. A high collar of raven feathers pushed up my mane, Juniper using a stick to pin it in a tight bun. Silver shoes, covered in glyphs and brass reliefs of twin-headed birds, adorned my hooves.
Helen smiled wider still, spreading her arms wide, and cried, “Yes, so fierce! You go and not die. Make proud, and lots of honour for us both. Yes, yes.”
We were shortly thereafter ushered from the smallish room and out into a staging area. Hundreds of diamond dogs rushed about in the final stages of preparing for the ‘games’.
“Just, stay near me, Juniper.”
She squeaked in response, pressing herself deeper against my side.
Through the groups of dogs, I spotted the halla Helen had mentioned. For a moment my hopes buoyed, then crashed down as I noticed none of them had a lode-mark, and they all held the hollow, pathetic eyes of those who were broken inside.
Juniper and I would receive no help from those poor creatures.
I had only formulated the understanding when we were herded towards a grate. Gears clattered, the ante-chamber filled with a loud rumble as the grate lifted and we entered a long, dark passageway.
Blinking and bleary eyed, we stumbled out of the passage and into the arena proper. My ears pressed back as the roar of sixty thousand Diamond Dogs greeted me, the stands jammed until they almost overflowed. Boxes sat at the lowest ring, a scant few lengths above the walls, from which the wealthy and important could watch, with each tier progressively more cramped, and comprised of poorer and poorer citizens.
Other groups of gladiators were filing into the arena. Some Diamond Dogs in loincloths with tridents and nets, their right arms sheathed in glittering bronze mail. Others wore heavy plate hauberks covered in symbols and swirling designs with tower shields and short spears, their helmets covered with blinders so they could only see in a narrow field. Lightly armoured strikers, a sickle in one paw and a bearded axe in the other, with pelts wrapped around their lower legs and arms, howled and slobbered, their muzzles covered in a thick froth and their eyes rolling with madness.
Each team wore differing colours; Gold, Red, Green, and White for us slaves. White to show our blood better when it was spilled.
The ragged group of halla gathered in the middle.
A deep, resonating chant filled the arena, drowning out all other sounds. “Maamut, Maamut, Maamut!”
In her box with the other slave owners, sat Helen, the dog carrying a forced smile. She held the control rod up, giving the device a little waggle, followed by pointing it to the Green team and hooking a thumb across her throat. The inhibitor gave a little click, and feeling returned to my horn.
A double blast of horns silenced the crowd. Nearly as one, those not already standing rose from their bare stone seats to face the largest and most ornate box. Turning my head, I beheld a dog entering the autumn of his life. He was the King of the Diamond dogs; a once proud and tall brute, with muscles starting to sag beneath a still lustrous black coat. Possessing the long snout of a Doberman and a crown glittering with a hundred gems perched between his torn ears, the king was a figure of aged strength.
But, more so than the king, my attention was arrested by the figure at his side.
Sylph sat with her lute in her hooves, a collar around her neck and its lead attached to the king’s belt. Our eyes locked, and she mouthed the words, ‘live for her.’
The Diamond Dog gladiators lifted their weapons to their king, and in a single, booming voice, shouted a terrible oath.
“For you we shed our blood, and theirs!”
With a nod from the king, the horns sounded again, and the slaughter began.
“Defensive formation!” The order came from an older, ragged buck, the halla leaping at once to the command.
As though fighting wolves, they formed a tight ring, antlers lowered and hooves scuffing at the dirt. Shoulder to shoulder, the halla were a deadly wall. Any dog that drew too near risked being speared or trampled.
The dogs were not so foolish. Using their spears and nets, they struck from a distance or dragged out their quarry. Screams quickly filled the arena, and were silenced.
It was vicious, brutal, and terrifying, the sand under hoof stained red from so much carnage.
Not that I had time to observe the halla.
Juniper and I had been left outside the ring, our purpose to serve as momentary distractions before dying.
“Juniper, whatever you do, do not leave my side,” I hissed through my teeth as the first dog approached, a trident in his fist.
A deep breath, and I filled my heart with the songs Sylph used to play, and the smiles they brought to the herd.
Roaring, the dog raised his trident, then thrust it at my neck. It stopped, the tip whispering against the hairs of my coat. The crowd above us howled and barked in surprise, a surprise echoed on the gladiator’s face as the butt of his trident propelled itself into his ribs.
Staggered, but far from out of the fight, the dog began to circle, net twirling above his head.
He tossed it at Juniper, intent on dragging the sapling from my side. Perhaps he hoped I would rush to her defence, and he would have been able to impale me then. Perhaps he just wanted a quick, easy kill to his name. I do not know or care.
It hardly mattered as I struck the net aside with a simple blast of magic, and followed up with a summon.
At my side appeared the first thing that came to my mind: a Frost Wolf.
For so long they had been the things of my waking nightmares, the howls of the pack that had taken my parents ever echoing in the back of my thoughts. With the Diamond Dogs, the wolves were all I could imagine for a summon.
An alpha female, white as snow with a rolling crest of dark grey fur over her withers and shoulders, she towered over the startled gladiator, her breath misting his armour, leaving a patch of rime behind.
He lunged. The Frost Wolf leapt aside. Opened her mouth and breathed forth a wave of cold so absolute the dog was frozen as solid as a statue in a moment.
“Protect the Halla,” I commanded when she turned her gaze to me.
The arena was not fully aware yet of what had transpired. Most of the action with the halla had sifted, a dozen bodies already strewn across the sand.
Baring her fangs, the Frost Wolf sprinted towards the confused mass of death. The crowd gave a shocked exclamation as she bit down on the neck of one dog and hurled him towards the upper stands.
Gladiators and halla alike shied away from the snarling beast in their midst. A few hurled nets, only for my wolf to slip through them like fog.
It took the crowd a second to process the change, and then they were howling and stamping their feet in a greater zeal. I had never witnessed such madness, and never wish to see it again.
Once more, the dogs proved to be no fools, a half dozen peeling from the confused center to charge me.
“Velvet…” Juniper pressed herself beneath me, clamping her hooves over her eyes.
Ravens burst from the tip of my horn, an unkindness of cawing, snapping, clawing ebon winged constructs that trailed curtains of billowing smoke. They swarmed over the dogs, attacking exposed eyes and ears, gouging out chunks of flesh with their sharp beaks.
I smiled, glancing up to Helen’s box, where my ‘owner’ sat, her mouth hanging open, and her tiny, black eyes very frightened as they darted from me to the King. He scowled, leaning over to whisper something to one of his entourage. Beside him, Sylph kept her face neutral.
Applying a spell to my voice, I gave a shout that deafened the crowd.
“You wished for entertainment and blood?” The Dark runes swam faster in my mind, tugging my lips into a vicious grin. “Then you shall have it.”
A quick check of my magical reserves showed I’d only started to tap the depths of my power. I flexed my neck as I prepared my next set of spells, forming them in conjunction. In my haste, I failed to prepare the mental shields to fend off the runes hunger, my magic taking on a dark shell, black atop of blue.
Rap-tap-tap, went my spells, crystal spears manifesting overhead to strike at the encroaching dogs, while a shimmering dome protected me from the attempts at retaliation.
Moments blurred together as I cast my spells. I felt so alive, my skin tingling with the echoes of casting spells I’d never dreamed possible a month ago. Aether arced from my horn to the arena walls and lifted me up.
I laughed, cried, and maimed.
And then I came crashing down, all my magic at once cut off and my head exploding with a blinding, red agony.
Gasps choking from my throat, I was aware of Juniper above me, her face hollow and streaked with tears, little hooves rocking me. She called my name over and over. Behind her I saw the surviving Halla watching with mingled fear and awe. Not a single gladiator remained standing.
Dogs armed with crossbows and billhooks rushed into the arena floor and herded the Halla away while a ring formed around me, weapons pointed at my heart. A gap broke in their ranks to allow a hulking brute of a dog through.
Decked in gold and plum, it was the crown prince, a retinue of his personal guards flanking him. His armour was molded into the shape of muscles, not that it was needed with his powerful frame.
“Stop, please stop.” Juniper crawled to the prince’s feet. “She did what you wanted and fought.”
Placing a kick to the side of Juniper’s head, he ignored her pleas.
“Who owns these… things?” He glared at me, grabbing my horn and hauling me up until my hooves dangled. “Who is the cur that put a wizard in the Games?”
“T-That would be I, y-your most magnificent and wise Prince Selim, Son of Selim.” Helen slinked out of an entrance. She had her paws spread wide, her head held low, and her robes knotted and bunched around her knees as she tried to both walk and prostrate herself.
Dropping me back to the sand, where I gasped and fought off the lingering pain of the fizzled spells, Prince Selim marched up to Helen.
“A wizard. You put a wizard into the games. Sullied this arena with magic tainted blood.” He drew his short sword, laying the edge on the back of Helen’s quivering neck. “Have you anything to say before I pass your judgement?”
“I did not know, oh most benevolent and just prince!” Helen pointed at me, exclaiming, “Bought it from tunnel sniffers. Demanded all the proper questions. Have to be careful with unicorns, I know this, of course. They lied. They lied! Told me she cast only weak stunning spell, and bit and kick. She young one still, so I believed them. Ponies spend years becoming wizards. How was I to know?”
The prince’s face grew harder and harder as Helen spoke. He cut off her explanations with a bark. “You are a fool,” he spat. “Allowing a unicorn free range of her magic. No doubt you will claim some falsehood or spell at play. I don’t have time for this nonsense. Your licenses are revoked and you are to be banished from the pitts.”
“No! Please, have mercy.”
Chuckling, the prince sheathed his sword.
“This is me showing kindness.”
“W-what of my property?” Helen cast a concerned look at me and Juniper.
Prince Selim followed her gaze and sneered.
“The wizard will be executed in a proper and fitting manner, of course. As for the dryad…” He went to Juniper.
She looked up at him with puffy eyes, sand staining her tear streaked face. “Please, just let us go, please.”
Putting his foot to her throat, he said nothing. He just strangled her, watching with a dispassionate, neutral expression as she gasped and beat her small hooves against his leg. My own screams went unheard, the prince’s guards holding me down. As the backlash passed, and my strength returned, a blow to the back of my head dropped me to the sand.
All I could do was watch as Juniper was murdered.
Her hooves stopped scraping along Selim’s leg. She ceased her choked begging.
Juniper was so scared.
A last, pathetic whimper and she was in Elysium.
“Dispose of this thing,” Prince Selim pushed Juniper’s body away. “And take the wizard back to the pitts. You may be as rough as you like, just leave her alive. Her death will be done properly, as ordained by Maamut.”
...Kill him.
I can't wait for Velvet to go all Rage Mare on them. I fully expect her to devastate the entire city before she's done.
... they hate magic, wizards.... They are intelligent, but their speech and mannerisms speak otherwise... they are incredibly competent in battle, but use quick and brutal tactics, with heavy organization, and use of a net...
why did you combine the Barbarian Hordes with the Roman Legions? The world will not withstand their might.
Good chapter, but I didn't care for how Juniper died. Isn't she supposed to be young? In any fandom, reading about a child getting killed is already a big enough turn off, but this was rather descriptive, which worsened it in my eyes. That is admittedly my own personal hang up, but I hope this doesn't continue to be a trend in this fic or I'll probably bow out.
My apologies for the slow response. For most I wasn't sure what to say, in all honesty.
4943032
The Prince? Since it's Velvet's story, I'm fairly certain he's not long for Ioka.
4943133
Rage Mare? Should she go blond and have a long, spiked mane?
4943286
The Diamond Dogs, as described by Velvet (and that is a key point) can best be equated to Orcs or Goblins of the Tolkien variety. Physically powerful on an individual basis, and frightening in massed numbers. Romans mixed with the Germanic tribes is... kind of accurate. I certainly went for a Roman-esque feel with the arena, but I didn't want them to be cut-and-paste of Rome, or any Earth culture. More-so as the Diamond Dogs as told by Velvet are... not nice.
4943974
Juniper's death went through several variations and iterations. In the end I decided to go with the graphic and senseless to hammer in that Diamond Dogs are bad so as there will be no to little sympathy for them with what is coming next. I can promise you two things: More characters will die and none of them will be a child, foal, fawn, or sapling. Of the characters introduced in this story, only Velvet and White (one of the triplets) must survive as they've been shown in Myths. I don't believe I will make any as graphic as what I did to Juniper (and to be honest, that was a gruelling thing to write). This is both as I just don't like writing such things as it tends to make me depressed, and because I want Juniper's death to stand out amongst all the other tragedy and terrible things.
4944830 Yeah I get that characters are certainly going to die in this fic, and I don't have a problem with it. It's proven to be a rather brutal setting. It's just that whenever an author, and there are several on this site alone, kills a foal/child in some grotesque fashion it smacks of a cheap, lazy attempt to garner intense feelings of anger/disgust/sadness, so we the readers know that without question, that 'yeah, that's a bad guy who done it'. What happened this chapter wasn't that severe, but I'm certainly feeling a bit more cautious about this fic than I was before now.
4945288
That's understandable. Hopefully I can allay your fears in the next chapter.
I didn't mind the death of Juniper for "offending my sensibilities" or anything like that, maybe i'm just dead inside or something, but Velvet's family was eaten by wolves, so deaths are hardly a shocking thing, i think it fits the tone of the story.
What I felt was a bit off is how pointless she was as a result of her death, we spent a lot of time on Juniper during the last two chapters and then she snuffs it without having really had any impact on the story other than pointing out that this dog character is a bad guy, which was kindda obvious because they keep slaves and hold blood games for entertainment. Juniper could have been introduced into the story just before they're thrown into the arena and her existence would have had the same impact.
Anyway, it's a minor nitpick overall and the only reason i'm bringing it up is because so many in the comments seem to be affronted by her death.
Looking forward to the next chapter. :)
At first, it seemed like Sparkle Manor and the Sparkles were there just so Velvet would have someone to tell her story to. But they have turned interesting slowly.
I like this chapter of her story. The last one seemed to just be there to change the stage.
For a moment there, I believed Juniper would die by Velvet's battle frenzy. Probably you considered it too when you were writing.
So, male kirins lack a proper part? that part doesn't work? it works but only for fun purposes? I guess it must be one of the first two, as they would have no problem just saying "they cannot father foals" loudly.
4952711
At first Sparkle Manor was just to have someone to tell the story to, but that got clunky fast. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd been able to keep this within the 4-5 chapters I originally anticipated.
As for male kirin... It's a little complicated. During the periods where they'd been common, they'd also been gelded. Kirin are nearly unheard of in modern Equestria, to the point where they are only really known from stories of the pre-classical era. With Spike, the Sparkles would have done some research on the matter, I figure, enough to know about kirin, and the plethora of laws surrounding them. Which is also why Whisper whispered to Glitterdust; because Spike was present at the time.
Hope that made sense.
4953535 I get it, now. I wonder if that caused many kirins to finally snap, as they tend to do.
Are Luna's night guards half dragons in your setting? They share the dull colors and fangs with Sombra.
4954257
They are zbori, a pegasus off-shoot. Effectively, their a fifth sub-group of pegasus, just a bit odder looking and nocturnal in nature. They are not related in any way to dragons or vampires. Though they often get accused of being vamponies...
Nice job on that duel, Shining.
Oooo, imprisoned and abused Sombra. I can't say I find much sympathy for him. But what's up with male kirins, impotency?
Have I mentioned how much I love seeing Spike among what's effectively family his own age? Because I really love it.
Velvet has her magic back? That's a mistake that's going to bite her owner in the ass.
Yup, and it did.
Yeah, I imagine princey there just made Velvet's list. I wonder how much of his city will be standing by the time she's done.
4953535
I'm absolutely loving the Sparkle Manor scenes, now i'm anticipating them as much as Velvet's story.
4954257 4954824
I'm going to have to claim full responsibility for this confusion. Tundy originally had Whisper's dialogue in the story, and I told him to cut it. She explained that male Kirin are gelded at birth.
It might be worth throwing that back in there seeing how much confusion it's caused.
4959392
Okay. Will toss the line back in.
Edit: And the line is back in.
The story's coming along very well. I'm enjoying the House Sparkle scenes more then Velvet's story (just by a little bit though). Yeah, I'm still a bit giddy that something I suggested was included.
4954824
Considering Velvet is telling the story, she'll probably claim to have leveled the place. In reality... who knows.
This makes me wonder how accurate the story being told is, considering the narrator is also the main character.
4961362 That is a good question, we have no idea whether or not our main character here is an unreliable narrator.
Then again, once we get to the actual "Queen in Stone" part of the story we'll kind of have a check on her claims, Iridia herself. Not that she's on page at the moment to confirm or deny what we're being told, but the whole point of this was a story been told to Tyr. Since Tyr is very likely to eventually be able to double check the story with her, I could see Velvet striving for accuracy in at least those chapters.
4961362
What I love most about this story is that Velvet's level of 'thruthiness' varies wildly. Take the fight in the arena, for instance. Reality and Velvet's story wildly disagree on the degree of flank-kicking involved by a large margin. Velvet's version would have a hard-rock soundtrack (most likely AC/DC's Thunderstruck) while Reality would have involved more running and less awesome on her part and narrowly escaping by the skin of her teeth.
In the next chapter (or at least the current draft) the accuracy of her story is questioned, and Velvet's response is, 'I may exaggerate, but I don't out-right lie.' So far, that's been true. But, it's important to remember that its a first person narrative in those sections, and she's an untrustworthy narrator.
Velvet is a grandmother telling a story to keep the spirits up of her grand daughter.
4961779
Tyr can check with Iridia, true, but that's not to say Iridia knows the full story. I've been purposefully keeping Iridia out of the Sparkle Manor portion of the story to avoid such kinks or problems. It helps that Cadence is more than a little mad at Iridia following the events of Chapter Ten of Myths and is trying to avoid her great-aunt. Iridia will make an appearance, but almost certainly not until Velvet's story reaches the point where she wakes Iridia from the statue.
And if she doesn't, it's because me and plans have a mutual agreement to dislike each other.
The northern Diamond Dog homeland sounds a lot like Mordor, with sprinkles of Rome on top.
4966863
Mix
1 cup Tolkien Orcs
1/4 cup Imperial Rome
1 Tsp cinnamon
mashed ginger
4967824
But don't female kirins need male kirins to reproduce?
5488795 thats probably the point. Notice how sombra is the only one they mention.
I think somepony really should tell Spike about that. If he keeps pursuing Rarity like he has been, it will become relevant to him eventually.
4944830
You forgot River Sparkle, though Velvet might not know it. One would think that she would have inquired about her eldest daughter when given the chance, but she was distracted at the time...
4967824
Needs more Orcs.
Three questions:
1. Who are/were the Archons
2. Are there more types of runes? (I thought I saw that there were five kinds earlier in the story, though I could be mistaken)
3. What was Velvet trying to accomplish in the arena?