The final chapter, teaser · 4:44pm Apr 13th, 2017
It was a perfect, sunny day, and somehow, that felt wrong. Funerals were supposed to be rainy, dreary days, sad days, grey days with melancholy skies. This day was nothing of the sort. The newspaper headlines were ablaze with promises and pledges of unity, of togetherness, all to present a united front to the enemy. From tragedy had come inspiration, a sense of purpose, a will to do better.
Even though so much of it focused upon him, Flicker could draw no comfort from it. Inside, there was only a hollow ache that begged to be filled with something, like a decayed tooth, it throbbed with cold emptiness. At least he had his orders, his duties, and his sense of purpose. That soothed the ache a little, but not much, and it stayed his hoof from rash action or petty, meaningless vengeance.
Also, he had Knick-Knack, whom he doted on rather than eat breakfast.
During his absence, her cutie mark had appeared at a young, tender age, and Flicker felt regret for not being there with her when it had happened. His mother had told him the story several times now, and would likely tell him several times more. He didn’t mind, it was a pleasant distraction.
For being a good filly, Twisty had taken Knick-Knack into town to purchase a new doll, but the little filly wanted a toy locomotive. She had begged and pleaded for it, even cried for it, and Twisty, being the soft-hearted mother she was, broken down and spent a considerable sum on the toy locomotive, which was made from real metal and was so very detailed.
Not long after the purchase, Knick-Knack had her cutie mark; a chugging locomotive. It was a good mark, and Flicker was happy. He hoped that his sister would do more than just operate a train though, he hoped that she would one day design and build better trains. Even in his current troubled state, his hopes and dreams for his little sister persisted.
Hope sprang eternal.
For his sister to design and build better locomotives, she had to have a bright and promising future. She, like so many others, had to have a future, and Flicker was determined to ensure that the future continued to exist. His own future, it seemed, had been determined, and he would serve.
“Give me that little fuzzball,” Twisty said to Flicker. “She’s sticky from breakfast. I’m going to clean her up before we go.”
Hesitant, not wishing to let go, Flicker kissed Knick-Knack one last time, which caused her to begin giggling. Feeling a keen sense of regret, he placed her on his mother’s back, and then watched as Twisty walked away from the table. Leaning forward, Flicker rested his forelegs on the edge of the table, and was only somewhat aware of the fact that Hennessy was staring at him.
Madam Pakora began clearing away the breakfast dishes, sniffling, her eyes red and puffy. She paused, lingering near Hennessy for a moment, and the corners of her eyes wrinkled as she smiled. “A cookie for your thoughts, Hennessy.”
Startled, Hennessy let out a squeak, and perhaps because he was caught off guard, he responded with total and complete honesty. “I was just thinking that Flicker here would be a good daddy. Mine was a total shit…” His words trailed off and he sat there, blinking, his lips still moving, but nothing was being said.
“And even though your own family was ruinous, you still have hope of goodness?” Madam Pakora’s smile widened a bit, causing her plump cheeks to press up into the corners of her eyes.
“Yeah… I guess… maybe?” Hennessy’s eyes darted from the left to the right, and he glanced at Piper. Flustered, the earth pony colt then looked to Conk, who was busy reading a newspaper. “I think a part of me wants to prove that I can do better than my own parents.”
Without warning, Piper let out a sudden terrifying belch, egg-scented, and then she clutched her stomach while moaning, “I don’t think my liver likes breakfast, but I sure did.” She began panting, trying to cope with the sudden burst of pain, and her yellow eyes blinked several times in rapid succession.
Snorting, Conk used his paper to fan away the befouled air while shaking his head.
All that is left is the funeral.
And now, some music suitable for war and the impossible fight ahead. It's fitting that Canterlot sits upon a hill, no?
More of an alternate than a metal guy myself, this is what came to me first for this chapter anyway, not the fight ahead. As far as what is here so far and towards the funeral.
I think i last read chp. 65. So... i have work to do.
I've have a few stinky burps like that before... Better than Carbonated Burps that somehow make their way out your nose after drinking Soda. Those things just aren't right.
Piper.