//------------------------------// // Passage Four: infirmus amor. // Story: (Dis)Harmonics. // by overlord-flinx //------------------------------// "The heart longs for several things; power, closure, healing, and love are more prominent figures. However you may view them, each is as much evil as it is good. Power keeps you and those you choose safe at the expense of those you fend away. Healing mends your wounds over another's. The cycle goes on. The heart is a fragile piece to the living system. Perhaps it was The Makers' grand intent for us to be wry when they made the heart the epicenter of our mortal and imortal existence." - Star Swirl the Bearded. Dusky noon came and went like any other passing, no alteration to be noticed. But to the very few cheery spirits that had yet to be crushed by Solaris's rule, noon brought a ray of moonlight. That one hope that had many fillies, colts, and all ages alike stagger through their tiring lives was and always had been that wonderful shop in town; Sugarcube Corner. It was not glamorous, in fact a bit gaudy; but to the souls of Ponyville, it was a sanctuary. Day after day, ponies would flock to that small bakery to receive a portion of what the Cake family had made for them. The Cakes had no reason to give candies, pastries, and desserts to anyone; but they had also no reason not to in their kind souls. At times, guards of the city would even be willing to look the other way for freely handing out treats to those that came, granted that they themselves were given a snack on the side as well. All of Ponyville and -yes even Equestria- knew of their kindness and selfless nature. But no one more than the pony they raised as their own since she came. That once little filly who was had the misfortune of being given the cutie mark that contradicted her own body... "Come again tomorrow, ya hear?" Mrs. Cake called out before closing the shop's front door, satisfaction ringing in her face. "Enough satisfied afternoon, honey," Mr. Cake, who was just finishing up with clearing the counter, smiled to his darling wife, "You know what that means?" The both chimed in at once, equally with a harmonious smile to them, "Time to start for the next day~~." Not a moment was wasted between the two as they went back into their warm kitchen to start on the next day's confections. They whistled and sang lyric-less tunes as they pulled and plucked ingredients and cleaned tins from shelves and counters. The kitchen sang along with them with warming dings and clanging pans. So much so that it drowned out the dull clopping of hooves against the wooden stairs. The Cakes continued their work a bit more until both their hearts and bodies stopped when they finally heard a skittering clack of a weak hoof against the tiled floor. Two heads shot a look to the staircase leading to the kitchen and both fell into sorrow when they saw the puffy pink hair of their adoptive charge. "Hey guys..." the voice was faded and almost inaudible, but the two had grown tuned to that tone too well. "Pinkie... Sweety. Why're you out of bed?" Mrs. Cake asked without leaving her spot. "I hear-heard your pans..." Her narrow eyes scanned across the chaotic workplace, "Did I miss the noon rush again...?" "You didn't miss it!" Mr. Cake snapped quickly with a shaky grin, "We just let you sleep in this time and moved your shift up to tomorrow!" He looked to his wife for support, to which she offered just as quickly as he wanted. "Oh... If you say so... I just don't want to be a--" Mrs. Cake closed the gap between her and the younger mare, placing her front leg on the cold forehead of the mare. "That's enough, Pinkie Pie. You stop right there," Her tone had become motherly and firm, but still very loving. The hoof of Mrs. Cake had begun to stroke through the young, poof mane of this pink mare as she continued to reassure her. "You are no burden to us. You never will be. You can help out the moment you're ready to." For the first time since entering, Pinkie had started to smile, a light cough escaping her lips all the while. "Thank you... Mrs..." Before the words could come out, Pinkie's world had blurred into an empty darkness. Thud... "No!" Mr. Cake yelled out in a panic as he saw his wife cradling a limp Pinkie Pie in her front legs, "Not again... I'll call Red Cross! You just keep her breathing!" It was so easy for him to say those words, he had said them so many times in the past ten years, it was almost as common as 'Welcome to the store'. Mrs. Cake listened to her husband trot out of the store to get the help they needed. She remained there, holding her charge, her guest, her 'eldest daughter', for dear life. No matter how many times Pinkie had fallen victim to her illnesses, it was never any easier for any of the Cake family. Nearly everyday was a gamble for the family, hoping that this day would not be the day that Pinkie finally ended. It was not Pinkie Pie's fault exactly that sickness was so easily inflicted on her; it had been that way since her youth. There was no medical identification to why she was so sick all the time either. But the Cakes -after all the years of raising her- had come to a conclusion. Pinkie Pie wasn't sick because of some born medical condition... She just didn't have the spirit, the drive, or the motivation to ever have a will to live... Solaris strives for one goal; one core principle that has led all of her motives. Order. But so many years ago, back when she and her sister had the Elements of Harmony, she had a revelation. 'As long as Harmony exists, so will chaos and its struggle to snuff out the harmony'. And while harmony would always win, the aftermath of the battles would always leave scars on the land, the people, everything. That is the reason she twisted Harmony into Disarray, because controlling the good of the world was one thing, but to control evil; to control what you wish to destroy, was the greatest solution. She created what she wanted to destroy, so she could regulate it and snuff it out from the claws of those that wished to use it against her. Solaris strives for one goal; one core principle that has led all of her motives. Law. Absolute law.