//------------------------------// // 4. Bathory // Story: Crisis of Infinite Twijacks // by ObabScribbler //------------------------------// Queen Nightmare Moon lounged diagonally across her throne, one forehoof propping her chin, one thrown haphazardly over the side as if this entire situation bored her. The throne was caked in elaborate golden filigree and weapons of fallen enemies, which had been gilded and arrayed around her in an explosion of past victories. The whole thing sat upon a dais several times the height of an average pony, giving the queen range on top of her already formidable height to look down her nose at all who entered the royal hall. Her gossamer robe of expensive fabric shimmered at even her slightest movement, creating a rippling effect like sparkling water whenever she breathed or her undulating mane and tail brushed against it. She would have been a vision of loveliness if not for the malicious insanity in her eyes. It was so obvious, so decidedly there that it was shocking. Applejack looked around - as far as her metal collar would allow - to see whether the guards had noticed too but they all kept their eyes turned down to the marble floor. Maybe they already knew enough about that prickling madness to also know not to look at the queen’s eyes directly, lest the violence also suggested there be turned upon them. “Well now.” Queen Nightmare Moon’s voice boomed despite her speaking softly. Applejack’s ears flattened, which seemed to please her, if her smile was any indication. “Another earth pony? Is this really the best the duchies have to offer?” “Duke Blueblood claimed the palace has exhausted his duchy’s currently supply of eligible maidens, Your Majesty,” said the unicorn guard holding one of the chains attached to Applejack’s collar. “Blueblood is an idiot,” the queen said derisively. “If he wasn’t so painfully biddable I’d have cut off his head years ago.” She flicked a hoof at Applejack. “How old is this one?” “Eighteen winters, Your Majesty.” “Hmm. She looks older. Peasant living is terrible for the appearance.” The queen’s mouth twitched. “Well, hers at least. It will benefit mine well enough – though really, I would have preferred a unicorn or pegasus maiden over an earth pony.” The twitch became a sneer. Despite her precarious predicament, Applejack’s hackles rose. “Earth ponies are just as valid as unicorns or pega-ugherk!” Her words devolved into a gurgle as the guard who had spoken tugged his chain so hard she nearly toppled over from her kneeling position. Queen Nightmare Moon’s eyes flashed. “It’s been a while since I’ve had one of my baths.” She held up one naked hoof, bereft of the silver shoes she wore in all the paintings Applejack had been marched past on her way through the castle. The queen’s fur was midnight black, so dark that the yellow light from the braziers either side of her throne was thrown back as a blue sheen. She rubbed at the back of one hoof with the tip of her other, smoothing that fur so lovingly it was almost reverential. “Girl, do you know what I discovered after I ascended to rule over this pathetic little land?” The guard held fast to the taut chain. Applejack had no breath to respond even if she had wanted to. “Ponies were so very, very frightened of me and my power. They trembled in my presence. Tales of my exploits were already circulating. One day, a clumsy unicorn servant cut herself with a fruit knife while serving me a slice of apple. She was so scared of reprisal if she stopped that she kept on feeding me, even though I could see the blood flowing over her pretty white coat. It was amusing that she seemed to think that this resolve, this tenacity would please me; as if her being willing to bleed so that I should not have to wait for a bite to eat was the height of devotion. A few drops of her blood landed on me and, do you know what happened? Where it touched my coat it was revitalised. The dullness that had started to take hold from battling various rebellious duchy lords and ladies was undone. The tiredness I had begun to feel from taxing my powers vanished. I took the fruit knife and slashed the mare’s leg to the bone across her silly diamond cutie mark to test whether this was just a fluke. Her screams were beautiful but not as beautiful as my body wherever her blood fell. It was … a revelation.” Applejack’s heart thudded so hard in her chest that she felt sure everypony else must be able to hear it. The queen shrugged. “So I had her killed for her clumsiness and washed my entire body in her blood. And then, when my strength waned and my beauty began to falter, I did it again with another servant and once again restored myself. I’ve found it works best with maidens – the prettier and more magical, the better. But,” she sighed heavily, “I find it is harder and harder to come by suitable vessels in Canterlot – and the duchies only ever seem to have earth ponies of appropriate gender and age.” Her lip curled. “Earth ponies are so lacking in magic that it takes five maidens to have the same results as a single unicorn or a pair of pegasi.” The curl elongated into a vicious smirk. “So it’s a good thing you’re the fifth to arrive this day, girl.” Black spots crowded Applejack’s vision. She had heard the rumours – they all had. In the beginning nopony had really believed them until the queen’s Hounds reached their far-flung duchy at the very edge of Equestria; rough, scarred stallions, hoof-picked by the queen herself, who rounded up all ‘eligible ponies’ according to her specifications and picked out those deemed best for the ‘royal needs’. Those maidens never returned after being taken away to the castle in distant Canterlot. When the Hounds came to Ponyville, Applejack’s family had tried to hide her in the cider cellar until they left. She had crouched down there in the dark for three days, hungry and with nothing but a bucket for waste, before the Hounds flung the door wide and dragged her out by her mane. She had fought them, bucking with legs made strong by a lifetime of apple farming, but they had horns and wings and she had only her legs. Eventually she had been subdued, bundled into a carriage and driven away, fighting ceaselessly against the locks on the doors as she watched Sweet Apple Acres burn behind them. Her family had been left bound and gagged to watch their home and livelihood destroyed before their eyes as punishment for defying the crown. She supposed she should be glad they were still alive, at least. Many ponies had been killed for far less. Like being young and pretty enough to be bled for her baths. Queen Nightmare Moon rose from her throne, gossamer robe fluttering exquisitely. She descended the steps of the dais. “Guards, take her to the preparation room. Fetch the other four from the dungeon and put them in there too. Preparer Glimmer will join you there to drain them. I will be in my chambers. When it’s ready, bring the blood to me and I shall bathe.” She paused in front of Applejack. A tendril of cobalt magic sprang from her horn and forced the smaller mare’s chin up. Applejack was left with no option but to meet the mad queen’s gaze. “I hear you have a younger sister. For your family’s disobedience in attempting to hide you from my Hounds, I shall make her the first of my next five earth ponies.” As if she had done nothing more than comment on the weather, she let her magic dissipate and trotted jauntily from the chamber. Applejack’s throat closed around her panic. Apple Bloom! She had to warn her! She had to tell Big Mac or Granny to get her out of Ponyville, out of the duchy – out of Equestria entirely! Except that she could do no such thing. The guards holding the chains of her collar yanked her to her feet and dragged her to a small door on the opposite side of the chamber. Reflexively she fought them but one lashed out with his magic, cuffing her on the back of her head. She saw stars and stumbled. “Careful!” barked another guard. “If you spill any of her blood and waste it, the queen will put your head on a spike on the battlements!” Applejack staggered along, ears ringing. She was aware of passing through the small door and along a narrow dark corridor that angled downwards. One more guard marched behind them, cutting off any hope of escape even if she did escape the collar and two guards holding its chains. The walls curved, indicating the corridor formed a long spiral. It corkscrewed into the earth below the castle where the air tasted cold and dank. The better to conceal the sound of ponies screaming, whispered a voice in the back of her mind. The corridor ended in an unassuming wooden door, bolted across by a large plank of wood that sank into a hollow in the wall. The guard who had struck her knocked and waited. After a few moments the plank shot back and the door creaked inwards. A pony in a hood with holes cut for their eyes looked out. “Is this the fifth?” The hooded pony’s voice was low, muffled somewhat by fabric across their mouth. “Yes, Preparer Glimmer.” “Bring her in then.” They stepped back and swung the door wide, revealing within what could only be described as a chamber of horror. Applejack stared at the collection of monstrous devices and weapons that completely covered the walls. She recognised some, had no names for others, but knew the stench of blood and death that coated everything. This place had not been built so far below ground only to hide the sounds from within. Yet what caught her attention more was the pile in the corner. A passing glance could mistake it for a quantity of neatly stacked cloth, maybe some blankets. More than a glance, however, and you could see that each layer was in fact the peeled and dried skin of a pony. Each pelt had legs splayed outward like a macabre fireplace rug, faces neatly sliced to remain intact with holes where their eyes and mouths used to be. They were stiff, having been treated for decomposition and arranged one on top of another, empty faces eternally gazing into the room where they had died. Applejack’s mouth hung agape, taking in the colours of coats, manes and tails that had once belonged to living, breathing ponies but now were nothing but decoration in this hidden slaughterhouse. On the wall behind the pile a few pelts had been nailed to the wall for reasons known only to the pony who had put them there. Perhaps these were ponies who had made more of an impression than most. Perhaps they were the first who had ever been murdered down here. Perhaps the colours just appealed to their butcher and they had been arranged into an artwork that pleased their eyes only. A mint green unicorn dangled from an exceptionally long nail driven right through her skinned face. Tangled in her front legs, in a monstrous facsimile of playing music, hung a stringed instrument of some kind. Beside her, three ponies had been arranged as if dancing to her silent tune. The wings of a cyan pegasus with a multi-coloured mane and tail looked like they had been stuffed with wires to make them stand on end in spite of not having any musculature to keep them upright. One of that pony’s limp front legs had been tied into a knot with the front leg of a yellow pegasus with such a long pink tail that it brushed against the floor. All the skins had been carefully washed to remove the stains their amputation from their owners’ bodies would have caused. Between the two pegasi, cradled in the knot of cyan and yellow as if they were cradling her, was the skin of a small orange pegasus filly, the smallest of them all. A literal child. Applejack’s gorge rose. Something about that tiny skin, sewn and stapled into what should have been a loving embrace, struck a chord in Applejack’s brain that outweighed the rest of the grotesquery around it. To be so small, so young, yet still taken from your home and family so that your death could fuel the vanity of a mad queen … A space had been cleared in the middle of the floor and a large metal trough set up there. Above it, dangling from an enormous hook securely embedded in the ceiling, was a thick chain that ended in a set of manacles. The other end of the chain snaked to the wall where a lever and pulley had been set up to hoist and lower these restraints. Beside the trough stood a wooden table, upon which was arrayed a selection of knives, spikes and a metal cleaver. These items had been sharpened and cleaned to a malicious shine. The old blood splatters on the floor around the trough had not. Applejack’s legs locked. It was not a conscious decision. Her entirely body simply refused to move. The guards tugged on her chains but it was as if her joints were made of stone and would not bend to allow any forward movement. “Move it!” growled the stallion behind her. He shoved her rump. Still she did not budge. “Oh, screw this,” said the one who had hit her before. Abruptly, the rope went slack. Applejack did not have time to process this before something struck the side of her head and everything went black. She came to with her chin pressed to the floor. The world wobbled into focus, presaged by noises it took her a moment to recognise: whimpers and crying. Applejack blinked out of unconsciousness and into the realisation that she was no longer the only ‘eligible maiden’ in that horrible, blood-soaked room. She tried to get up, only to realise her hind legs had been roped together and her forelegs bound behind her back. She managed to roll onto her side but that was all she could do. Four other mares sat and lay in similarly bound states around her. Each had also been gagged. Curiously, Applejack had not; she assumed because she had been too unconscious to make any noise. She almost wished she had not woken up at all; it would have been more merciful to face this kind of death without knowing it was coming. At her movement, the mare closest to her turned. Tears spilled from her blue eyes, a shade darker than the blue and pink ringlets unravelling around her pale face. She spared only a glance for Applejack before turning back to gaze at the skins nailed to the wall. Beside her another mare, grey in mane, coat and rocks that formed her cutie mark, stared unerringly at the trough. A second grey mare lay trussed at her feet, black mane dishevelled and fur so thick with grime it nearly concealed her treble clef cutie mark. She was so similar to the first grey mare in appearance that Applejack wondered if they were related. The last mare was bright pink with fine yellow hair and the cutie mark of a white lily. It was from her that the majority of the weeping emanated – perversely fitting for a pony with a cutie mark befitting flowers at a funeral. “Hlllp!” the pink mare squeaked. Applejack wasn’t sure who the mare was talking to. Her? What was she supposed to do the help? She was just as restrained as the rest and still dizzy from being knocked out. The only ponies in the room were the bound earth ponies, three armoured guards and the hooded unicorn the lead guard had called ‘Preparer Glimmer’. This unicorn, she now saw, not only wore a full hood but also clothing that covered her from neck to hooftip and bagged up her tail. Her outfit was shiny, almost like plastic or treated leather. The better to wipe off. The unicorn was writing something in a large leather-bound book propped on a lectern. The scratch of quill nib and sparkle of magic were the only other sounds apart from the gagged mares’ crying. She placed the quill down and sighed. “Preparer Glimmer?” the lead guard asked. “Are you ready to begin?” Preparer Glimmer nodded. Her movements were mechanical, unemotional, as if she had done this too many times before to invest them with any feeling now. Murdering maidens was just a regular day for the Preparer of Queen Nightmare Moon’s baths. One of the three guards trotted over to the wall, telekinetically unbuckling the manacles and lowering the chain using the pulley. Another advanced on the bound ponies, horn glowing. He picked up the mare with the blue and pink mane, who shrieked through her gag, inspiring fresh loud sobs from the mare with the lily cutie mark. “No, that one first.” The lead guard pointed. “The pink one. Her noise is doing my damn head in.” The other guard shrugged, dropped the pale mare and picked up the pink one instead. She screamed in earnest as she was lifted into the air, voice so high she sounded like a lost child. A memory sluiced through Applejack; years ago, when Ma and Pa were still alive and they had gone to the Summer Fete as a family. Apple Bloom, just a toddler, had wandered away while nopony was looking. Applejack found her under a table by following her tearful wails. She had carried her baby sister back to their mother, shushing her wailing all the while with nuzzles and grateful kisses pressed into the top of her head. The smell of Apple Bloom’s hair was suddenly so strong in her memory that she wanted to check to make sure she wasn’t actually here in this awful place. “I hear you have a younger sister. For your family’s disobedience in attempting to hide you from my Hounds, I shall make her the first of my next five earth ponies.” Something in Applejack snapped. “Stop it, y’varmints! Leave her alone!” As one, all three guards and Preparer Glimmer stopped and stared at her. “Who forgot to gag that one?” the lead guard demanded. “Let her go!” Applejack shouted. “Let us all go! This is cruel an’ sick – an’ I’ll bet a barrel of apples you all know it too! Nightmare Moon ain’t even a real queen! She’s just some rotten usurper! We shouldn’t be bowin’ to her sick whims an’ makin’ her more powerful, we should be bandin’ together to fight against her! She even admitted she only needs these baths when she’s weakened. Now’s the time to strike! We can defeat her an’ save Equestria!” The lead guard stepped close, bending down to press his nose into Applejack’s face. “The Queen is the Queen,” he snarled. “And we’re all loyal to the Queen.” The other two guards nodded in agreement. “I changed my mind. Drain this one first. Silence her traitorous mouth.” The pink mare dropped to the floor so heavily that it knocked the wind from her. She lay on her back, gasping for air. Applejack felt herself hoisted up by the second guard’s magic. “Nightmare Moon ain’t my queen!” she yelled, her fear replaced by anger. “She ain’t nuthin’ but a no good, murderin’, evil fake! Ow!” The levitating manacles clamped tightly around her hind legs. The third guard turned the lever at the wall, shortening the chain so that when the one holding her dropped his magical field, Applejack dangled upside down over the trough. She struggled, wrenching her torso back and forth as if that would do anything. “Do it quickly, Preparer,” the lead guard commanded. “The sooner that one’s throat is open, the better.” “Oh, I’ll work quickly,” said Preparer Glimmer. Under her hood, her horn jingled with magic. The knives, spikes and cleaver all levitated off the wooden table together. “Everything at once?” The lead guard started to laugh. “It’s always a pleasure to watch you work Preparer Glim-” His compliment ended abruptly; silenced by the spike that passed clean through his throat and out the back of his neck, neatly cutting his vocal chords and windpipe. A spray of blood arced behind him. His eyes bulged in surprise. They kept staring sightlessly as he sank to the ground. On opposite sides of the room, the other two guards keeled over in tandem, each with a knife lodged firmly in the centre of his forehead. It was so quick, so unexpected, that for a moment Applejack did not register that they were dead. “What the…?” “Come on.” Preparer Glimmer’s magic wrapped around the manacles, breaking them apart as easily as if they were made of wet paper. “We haven’t much time.” Swiftly, she used the cleaver to cut the rope restraints and placed Applejack on her hooves on the floor. “Are you able to stand?” “What … how …” Applejack stared. “Why …?” “Can you stand?” Preparer Glimmer insisted. “Um, yes. I’ll be wobbly for a few minutes though.” “Good enough.” Preparer Glimmer released Applejack from her magical field and turned it on the other four bound mares. “I’m not here to harm you. I’m going to set you free. But you must stay quiet and listen to my instructions very carefully if you want to live to see tomorrow.” Applejack watched as she systematically and precisely released the prisoners. When the mare with the treble clef cutie mark took off her gag, she rasped, “Who are you? I’ve been in the court orchestra for two years. I’ve seen Preparer Starlight Glimmer. She’s nearly as mad as the queen and twice as vile.” She gestured at the skins in the corner. Well, that explained who was responsible for those. “You are not Preparer Starlight Glimmer.” The hooded pony blew out a breath. “No, I’m not. But I am here to save you. Well, it’s not my only reason for being here, but I’m definitely not leaving you behind to be slaughtered. I made a deviation from my original plan when I realised the fifth of you had been brought in and the schedule for draining you all had been moved forward.” Applejack stepped forward. “Who are you, stranger? Why are you here savin’ us?” Another sigh, this one frustrated. “Isn’t enough that I am?” “You’re workin’ against the queen.” “Yes.” “I wanna help.” That gave the hooded pony pause. “You … what?” “She burned down my family farm. Tried to butcher me. Promised to do it to my kin, too, for the crime of them lovin’ me enough to hide me. You’re workin’ against her. I wanna help.” “Me too.” The mare with the treble clef cutie mark rose shakily to her hooves. “This mare is right. Nightmare Moon is nothing but a usurper and we should be working to take her off the throne. Even if we die trying, I’d rather that death than this one.” She nodded at the trough and torture devices. “I want to help too,” the pale mare with the two-toned hair said grimly. “That … that creature stole my wife and drained her blood for one of these baths, then her barbaric lapdog Preparer Glimmer defiled her body to put her skin on her wall. I want revenge.” “I want to go home,” the pink mare sniffled. “I just want to go home.” “I don’t have a home anymore,” the grey mare with the cutie mark of rocks murmured, voice so soft it was barely audible. “The queen already took all my sisters. I was the last. Mother and Father tried to hide me but …” She trailed off, eyes haunted and dark. Applejack tossed her head, trying to clear the last of the dizziness from her thoughts. “I’m Applejack. If you’re against the false queen, I’m with you to the end.” The hooded pony looked between all of them several times, clearly bewildered. Whatever she had expected to happen after she killed the guards and freed them, this was not it. For a moment, it seemed like she might reject them. Then she sighed one last time and pulled off her hood. The face underneath was smudged with dirt and damp from sweat, purple fur tufting in odd peaks and troughs. Her mane had been tied back into a practical braid and she wore no make-up, yet Applejack’s heart leaped all the same. This was quite possibly the loveliest pony she had ever seen; not beautiful like Nightmare Moon but with a pragmatic kind of allure that made her stomach flutter in spite of their awful situation. “My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Applejack’s jaw dropped. So did the other mares’. They all knew that name. “Princess Twilight Sparkle?” the treble clef mare echoed. “But … that can’t be. You’re dead. Nightmare Moon killed you when she …” “When she murdered my mother, Queen Celestia, and usurped her throne,” the lost alicorn princess finished grimly. “Yes, well, luckily there were enough ponies still loyal to my mother to smuggle me out of the castle and keep me safe all these years. And now.” Her brows lowered into a grim scowl. “I’m going to take back my throne, overthrow my aunt and save my ponies before she can hurt any more of them.” The flutter in Applejack’s stomach spiralled outward into a sense of warm security. This, she thought, was what being in the presence of real royalty felt like. “We’re with you, Princess Twilight,” she promised, meaning every word.