Hunger was a constant companion. Sometimes it diminished, sometimes it seemed on the brink of disappearing, but it never went completely away.
It also didn't bother her much. Feeder mainly saw to that. And when it wasn't Feeder, then it was Predator, or Digger, or Guardian. Caretaker could do it, as could Grower. And there were always Tia and Lulu, always ready to slip her something tasty and let her bask in the Flow which connected them all.
No, hunger was background noise, not something that bothered her. Usually.
For once she longed for living flesh. Or recently deceased, she wasn't picky.
The creatures she could get from Tia and Lulu's coats lacked something.
She had to change the situation someway. She needed a plan.
Planning, thinking, considering. It was something she was doing more and more lately. She was aware of the change and of how, with the passing of time, she had learned to manipulate more complex concepts. Like how physical integrity of those connected through the Flow influenced others. How events and behaviors could influence the intensity and the quality of the Flow. And how preserving that condition meant she could bathe in the radiance that stemmed from it.
It was a useful bit of knowledge. It also meant that she couldn't get something to sate her craving from there.
The warmth of the Light Above shone on the rock tiles of the courtyard. She rolled onto her side to better catch it. It was strange how she seemed to lack any motivation for moving more than the minimum necessary to stay comfortable. The tepor and the absence of both Tia and Lulu was a combination dissuading physical action.
Time was passing, things were changing. Change she understood, time was kind of new. The Light Above was weaker than before. Each time it disappeared and reappeared it was a bit less warm. She had to enjoy it while it lasted.
She still was hungry.
She rolled another bit, her underside now exposed.
It was possible that the Provider of Food could supply her what she needed if she could make clear what she wanted. That plan required her to transform her hunger in a concept instead of keeping it a feeling.
Maybe it could be done. Maybe she–
Something moved on the other side of the courtyard. Something just slightly smaller than her.
Something not in the Flow.
Her digestive system activated itself and began prodding her.
She focused her senses on the thing.
There was some kind of Flow around it, but it was weak, simple, unstructured. And it was separated from the one she cared about.
The being moved along the low walls. It was fast, and there was some form of intention in it. She tried to understand it, but it was too different from what she knew as to get anything useful out of it.
There was only one thing that mattered, though. It was living flesh.
She rolled on her underside. It was on.
Garvino knew the aftermath of a battle. He had seen some of them, and each one, despite the similarities, had been distinctly impressed in his memories. Debris told stories of things that were no more, of the ephemeral condition of being there, built by years of experience and work and ready to be shattered in an instant of violence. Ravaged fields foretold hunger and hardships to come.
Once again he looked upon the folly of war, on the spirit of greed riding people into madness, blinding them to what sometimes were obvious solutions, stopping them from making rational choices, wanting more than they could realistically get.
As he surveyed the ruins of the inner court he had to admit he was impressed by the extent of mayhem two furballs and an overgrown caterpillar had left behind.
There were shattered vases along the low wall delimiting the arcade, and here and there a chunk of stone was missing like it had been bitten away.
Which probably was exactly what had happened.
Garvino could practically see how things had gone despite not having been there.
Grubby had started on the stone plate in the middle, near the herb garden. Broken stems showed her first approach to her victim, the hole in the ground near the wall where she had missed what had amounted to an ill-advised attempt at pouncing. He was still unclear how that had happened, considering the conspicuous absence of legs, but he wasn't one to get lost in superfluous details. Then there was the furrow crossing the court where a chase happened. The broken vase at the end of it was where he supposed Old Scar had become involved.
What had happened after that was more difficult to infer with any precision, but the gist seemed to be that a fierce battle over food had taken place. Those were always the really vicious ones.
He sometimes regretted that he never had any talent when it came to drawing.
In the middle of a patch of dirt, where once there had been grass, were Grubby and Old Scar, gridlocked, each biting down on the end of a dead rat, pulling, never looking away from each other. It was clear that each expected a sign of weakness from the other, a chance to grab the whole vermin corpse for oneself.
If he ever had seen a better metaphor for his time as a mercenary in the Thousand Reigns down south, he didn't remember it.
"Why doesn't she simply close her maw on her end? I saw her snap rocks in two, a dead rat shouldn't be a problem."
Garvino glanced at Fidelis. The Diamond Dog was passing his paws over the damaged wall, probably already calculating how much mortar he would need to fix it.
"That, my old friend, is greed. If she did that she would get her half, but Old Scar would have the rest." He scratched his neck, his claws gliding through his plumage.
A broken feather. That was the itching. He would have to ask Ginevra to have a look.
"Hmm, do you think this could be a teachable moment? I'm pretty sure Donna Copper Horn or Master Sottile would do that." Fidelis stood up and clapped his paws together. Neither Grubby nor Old Scar moved an inch at the sound.
"You may be right. But I don't want to wait for tonight." The temptation of simply plucking the offending feather was great, but he had to hold out. He looked around, then his eyes fell again on the devastated garden. "Damn, we may also have to get them out of here before Willowbark sees what happened to his herbs. I'm not sure he has embraced Harmony thoroughly enough as to not try to gut them both."
Fidelis blinked. He put his paw on his chin and stared at the garden. Where herbs once stood, now were holes. Broken stems, uprooted flowers, and some green substance in one corner completed the picture of destruction. "You may be right. Should we set it on fire? It would probably be less painful for him to see a bed of ash than… that."
"I don't think it would change much. And, well, Meadowsweet won't protect us. She may save Grubby." A little movement brought Garvino's attention back to the two walking–and crawling–catastrophes in the middle of the court. It had been just a little shift in their positions. Nothing indicated that the conflict would end anytime soon. "We should have thought about feeding her some meat."
"We thought bugs were enough. And she seemed indifferent enough to what we gave her. We know better now, we will do better. At least she hunts vermin."
"Yes, at least she does that, even if I don't know for how long. She is smart enough to learn, so we will probably try to civilize her, at least a bit." He picked up one a shard from a broken vase. "But if she decides to keep her diet what it is now we'll have to teach her about collateral damage. And how to hunt in a sensible way."
Fidelis snorted. "That's your thing. I can watch and laugh. I’m curious how you will teach a grub how to prowl and pounce." Old Scar growled and Grubby hissed. "What should we do with her? I won't pull the rat out of her mouth. Or out of Old Scar's claws."
"Hmmm. Do you know the story of the Farmer-king's Knot?"
"A Griffin story. You told it once. Why?"
The two undersized predators still were pulling at the corpse. Garvino stepped forward and put a claw on Grubby's head while the other went under her maw. "Because–" He pushed with both claws and, with a snap, the rat was cut in two. Without an instant of hesitation, Old Scar bolted towards a corner and climbed upwards on a wooden column. Once he reached the roof he briefly turned around, then disappeared over the roof tiles. "–it solves at least in part our problem."
Sounds of angry chewing rose from Grubby as she clearly tried to frown. The effect was ruined by her stuffed cheeks and the munching, but it was an earnest attempt.
Garvino patted Grubby on her head. "That shall be a lesson about greed for you. Learn to be content with what you can get." He pulled her up. "Now let's find something for you to eat, I think there should still be some salted fish down in the cellar."
She was in the perfect place. It was warm, it was soft, it was safe. Nothing could dislodge her from this perfect state of being.
"Tia! No more colors!"
Nothing could. She was safe from everything and everypony.
"Tia! Tia!"
Suddenly a weight landed on her back. She could feel it wiggle through the blanket. It wouldn't matter, she wouldn't move.
"No more colors!"
Through the mist of half-sleep, something told her that there was an edge of panic in the voice. That maybe she should wake up. Something else answered that it was a phase like the time leaves had begun to fall. It wasn't important, it could be solved later with a honey-bun.
There was a second voice. It was low, she could barely hear it. It whispered something. She didn't care.
There was more movement. The weight changed position. Maybe she would come under the blanket. That would be acceptable. They could cuddle and solve whatever the problem was later.
Something warm, slithering, and wet darted into her ear.
Celestia screamed and whipped her head away.
It took her some time to disentangle from the blankets. The pillow stuck on her head didn't help. Her horn wasn't sharp, but apparently it was still pointy enough to embarrass her. Or let her have her vengeance, maybe.
Sharpening it seemed such a tantalizing idea as she glared down at Luna holding Grubby and laying on her back, laughing and kicking out.
She was sure the Concord wouldn't condemn her. Clearly, a grave breach of peace had been committed and needed some cruel and unusual punishment to be balanced out. Spearing her sister seemed a perfectly reasonable reaction.
Grubby, her panic forgotten, giggled while Luna hugged her. That little traitor.
Celestia squinted at the two and hissed, "I'm awake. I don't want to, but I'm awake. Now you'll tell me why you woke me up, and either it's a good reason or you should run."
Their mirth didn't seem to be in any way impaired by her threat. It probably was the pillow's fault. It undermined her authority, but reaching up to remove it would be acknowledging it. She wouldn't do that, at least not now.
"Hehehehe… You were–" Luna gasped for air, "–late. Sun's up and soon there will be breakfast."
"Soon is not now, and I see no reason why the Sun should have anything to do with me getting up." Now was a good moment. Her magic flared up and the pillow shot towards Luna.
Who dodged. The moment her magic had ignited her sister had started to roll aside, well out of the trajectory. The pillow hit the floor in a cloud of down.
Luna blew a raspberry while holding Grubby to her chest. "You'll have to be faster. And you're a unicorn. Sooner or later you'll have to raise the sun in the Ritual and then you'll have to get up even sooner."
"When the time comes I'll be powerful enough to have somepony else do it in my place. I will never get up before the sun rises. Never!"
The falling down seemed to fascinate Grubby, who suddenly gasped. She wiggled in Luna's grasp, then fell out of the hug and crawled to Celestia. "No more colors, Tia."
Celestia stepped down from the bed yawning and held her hooves out to the little larva. "Right, there was that. What's this all about?"
"I'll let you explain it. Look in the court and you'll get it." Luna stood up and slipped through the door.
Grabbing Grubby and putting her on her head, Celestia followed with another mighty yawn. She pulled the door open and stepped through. A shiver ran down her back as a cold wind blew through her mane while the light of the sun blinded her.
She blinked, and when her sight cleared everything was white.
On her head, Grubby turned and wormed herself into her mane. With a panicky tone, she declared, "No more colors!"
It was, technically, a correct assessment of the situation. Every surface was covered with a soft, white powder. Round contours hinted at things below the surface, with broader mounds indicated where vases and amphoras stood. In the middle of the court, a rectangle stood out, the new walls of the herb garden raising even higher, like a fortress.
Celestia grinned like a madmare.
"That, Grubby–" She reached out with her hoof. "–is snow, and–" She scooped up a ball. Her horn flashed, the mass shot sideways and an indignant scream came back from Luna."–it is awesome."
Grubby didn't trust the… what was the name? Snow, that's what Tia had said.
It had stolen the colors, and the nice tepor too. The sun shone but there was no warmth in it. The stuff clearly had some nefarious plans.
There were some more screams and giggles.
She had to admit that even if you couldn't trust it, Tia and Lulu seemed to have a lot of fun with it.
A barrage of snowballs rained on Lulu, who dived behind the wall of the garden to avoid them. When she re-emerged an instant later she held projectiles in both hooves. She launched them with deadly precision, and Tia was able to deflect only one of them.
Maybe it was like with the leaves.
It had taken Luna a lot of time to convince her to try and touch them. But once she had decided to, and once she had learned what it meant to play, digging through heaps of dead leaves and chasing Tia and Luna around had been fun.
A small wall had been erected by Luna in the middle of the court. Celestia was hiding behind one of the columns of the arcade, hiding from the occasional projectile thrown her way, all the while collecting snow with her magic.
That seemed… Grubby wasn't sure. She flicked her tongue and tasted the Flow. Yes, that seemed fun.
She wanted to do it too.
With newfound enthusiasm, she crawled forward. She had no idea how to throw stuff, but maybe she could do again the digging like with the leaves. She would sneak on Tia and then hug her leg, or she could go through Lulu's wall or she could–
It was cold.
She had barely started to crawl on the snow when the icy powder had frozen her underside. Shivering she retreated and glared at the stuff. It was keeping her from having fun.
Grubby frowned.
A multitude of plans whirled through her mind, mostly involving some variation on biting and eating, but were rapidly discarded. If it was awful having the snow on her belly, then, she was reasonably sure, having it inside would be worse. She reached deep inside herself, into the place where she sometimes got insights and thought about it some more. Maybe, even if it was bad, it would be enough for her to have fun.
She could do it, the certainty of the fact etched into her being, but would she want to do it?
Adapt.
That was important. That was what she had to do.
But how should she adapt?
Grubby observed Lulu throwing a hail of snow at Tia, while the unicorn danced through the snow dodging them.
That was the solution. It was something Grubby would have done anyway, but it was a bit sooner than expected.
It can be done.
Instructions and feeling flashed through Grubby's mind. She closed her eyes and pushed.
The enemy's dreaded fortification seemed impenetrable. High walls shielded Luna from any direct attack, and she had somehow managed to put together a seemingly unending supply of snowballs.
Or maybe she was bluffing.
Celestia glanced at the snow hanging from the stone columns, a grim testimony of her sister's persistence to fight her.
It was a lot of snow. Enough that she shouldn't have much left behind her barrier.
This called for one of Celestia's masterful plans. Something devious, brilliant, and made from layers upon layers of misdirection and subterfuge. A masterstroke so awesome that its sheer awesomeness would crush any feelings of rebellion her sister may harbor and finally put her into submission. A–
"You know I can see your fat flank behind the column, right? I thought I just may warn you because if you wiggle it a bit maybe I can get a little bit of challenge out of hitting it."
That was it. Her fury would demolish Luna's holdings and salt the earth of her domains.
With a terrifying – all those testifying otherwise were liars – warcry Celestia turned the corner and charged.
The snowball hit her straight in the muzzle and sent her tumbling down. She cartwheeled a couple of times and stopped at the end of a short furrow, her muzzle on the ground and her backside high up. Fuming in the cold snow she considered that the situation was less than ideal. Luna would pay.
Her sister's hysterical laughter echoed in the court.
She would pay, and it would be pretty expensive.
Clenching her teeth, Celestia stood up. She glared at Luna, who was rolling on the snow, well outside the protection of her fortification.
Without a word, she stepped forward. Her magic flared up, and a mass of snow as large as herself floated up surrounded by a golden aura. Sweat was forming on her brow, but this was something that required effort and patience. Little Luna should have the time to contemplate her fate and think about the error of her ways.
As the flying mass of snow reached the filly, Luna stopped laughing and blinked. She looked up at the snow levitating right over her and gulped. "Tia, you wouldn't…"
"I will, you know that. Any last words?"
In the terrified silence that followed the sound of something ripping apart was like thunder.
"What?" Celestia whipped her head around, the field around the snow disappearing and the whole mass falling down on Luna.
Under the colonnade stood Grubby.
She stood. On four thin, black, holey legs.
She was shivering, the legs trembling, with an expression of pure concentration on her face, her pointy tongue stuck out sideways. The pale, soft skin that had been her body before hung in tatters, limp and gray, rivulets of white and green liquids ran down her limbs and fell in thick drops. A small puddle of steaming goo laid at Grubby's hooves, with pieces of… of stuff swimming in it. A whiff of horrid stench reached Celestia's nose and made her eyes water.
Grubby slowly raised a hoof, inclined dangerously sideways, tried to catch her fall by putting it down again, used too much force, fell the other side, panicked, knotted her legs together, tumbled down, and laid there, limbs stiff but pointed in the wrong direction.
Luna said, "That was weird." Celestia looked down at her side, where her sister stood with a heap of snow on her head. "Should we help her?"
"Tia! Lulu!" Grubby kicked out in the air. "I walk!"
"I think so? Maybe we should call Meadowsweet. I have no idea how to teach a foal how to walk." It wasn't far to Grubby, yet by the time Celestia arrived and leaned down to straighten the enthusiastic bundle of flailing limbs, Grubby had managed to kick herself in the face three times. Not that it seemed to have done any damage.
"I'll go fetch her. I also told you that Grubby was a bad name, she's not a grub anymore. I bet she will change a couple of other times too, so don't try Leggy."
Celestia rolled Grubby over. After a couple of more near misses and one awesome dodge of little, black hooves flying around, Grubby stood up once again.
"You're right, I'll think of something else. Maybe we can go through those scrolls you found."
Chrysalis sat at the table in the icy room, her stomach almost roaring from the void in it.
She was hungry. She was dangerously famished. The empty bowl in front of her started looking really appetizing too.
No, she had to resist. It had been almost a… a lot of days since she last ate something she shouldn't have eaten. And Fidelis still grumbled about his hammer.
It had been an accident, but she still felt sorry for it. She didn't like it when people were angry, or peeved, or sad, or grumbling. It made the air taste bad. And then there had been also the problem of Tia and Lulu being punished for Giving little Chryssi stupid ideas.
Tia had complained a lot about the translations she had to do as a consequence of that.
The light in the room was almost gone. The sun had set outside, and the glow of the twilight was about to cede to the darkness of the night.
Not that it made much of a difference to her.
She was still hungry. It was important to be hungry, for some reason. Everybody else at the table was.
Meadowsweet, an old blanket on her shoulders to chase away the cold, was holding little Radish, with Millet leaning on her. Willowbark stood by the cold hearth, his lips moving in mute chants. Master Sottile was staring into his own, empty bowl. Chryssi was pretty sure he didn't see it. Fidelis and Garvino sat at the corner. They had been silent for most of the day and kept away from the ponies. Donna Copper Horn wasn't here. She had left in the morning and had yet to return.
It had to do with remembering something. She hadn't understood what, though. And nobody else had been there for the thing they were remembering, so it wasn't really their memories. It was like telling a story. Only this wasn't a story, it was something else. Something confusing.
She shuffled her hooves and glanced over to Tia and Lulu.
Both were lost in their thoughts and had been not fun at all today.
The last glow of the fading sun dispersed. Darkness descended on the room, and for a brief instant, the world became barely recognizable shapes surrounded by the Flow.
She blinked, and when her eyes opened again she saw clearly once more even if everything was bathed in green.
Willowbark reached out and grabbed a rock. He held it in front of the hearth and said, "For those gone."
He struck the rock with his shoe and sparks flew out.
"For those still here."
Another strike, more sparks.
"For those who will come."
The last strike. Sparks flew out and the flames roared up. Warmth and light filled the room in a rushing avalanche, almost a physical pressure embracing everyone.
It was blinding and Chrysalis closed her eyes and raised a leg to cover them.
She was about to express her displeasure when she felt something warm and soft embracing her. And then something else too.
Tia whispered in her ear, "Thank you for being with us."
"And may the Hearth’s Warming guide you for another year." added Lulu.
When Chrysalis finally could see again, Tia and Lulu were hugging her. All around the table, everyone was hugging somebody.
The door opened, cold wind blew in from outside for an instant, before it closed with a thud. Donna Copper Horn's voice thundered, "And may Harmony bring us another year of abundance!"
The delicious smell of warm stew and freshly baked bread mixed with the burning wood and changed the atmosphere of the room completely. Where previously there was cold and hunger, now Chrysalis could feel an almost tangible sense of joy, of love, and something else too. It was strange, sweet and bitter at the same time, complicated. She couldn't make head or tails of it.
The end of the hug and the generous portion of thick soup landing in her bowl made her forget her musings in a heartbeat. The stew was rich, filled with pieces of parsley roots, lentils, beets, and cabbage. A giant hand put down a little bun beside her steaming bowl.
Luna gasped. "Is that wheat bread?"
"It is. And we made even some flat-cake for later. And for you–" A small cup of salted anchovies was put down in front of Chrysalis."–I was told you would like these."
Chrysalis looked upwards, Donna Copper Horn standing over her, a gigantic wicker basket under one arm, and what could be a smile on her face. Chrysalis flicked her tongue, and for the first time tasted the Flow being directed at her from the minotaur. It was weak, just a trickle compared to the gigantic river directed at everyone else, but it was there.
"You have been good all day long, and I can see that it was difficult for you." Donna Copper Horn smiled a bit more. "You deserve it."