//------------------------------// // The Staff of Wabbajack // Story: Honeymoon Phase // by UnknownError //------------------------------// “I hate chickens!” Soleste roared over the endless clucking. Her spear finally fell from her hooves, too slick with blood and weighed down by the bodies of two dozen of the feathered fiends. Soleste still punched at them while her horn blazed, but the alicorn’s fur was soaked in blood and off-white feathers. More of her own blood and feathers stuck to her for every minute that passed. The feathered poultry horde still tumbled down into the shattered courtyard. The old bastion atop Mount Canterhorn had been long abandoned, and it was the perfect hideaway for errant bands of evildoers. It was close to Everfree and the Castle of the Two Sisters, and groups could menace the northern trade routes. Soleste liked clearing it out every three years or so. It was good exercise and kept her close to court. When she heard a so-called ‘Poultrymancer’ had claimed the mountain as his own and chased away a merchant with a dozen chickens, the alicorn figured she’d be back in time for dinner and didn’t even bother to bring her armor. “Fly! Fly, my foul feathered fiends!” Soleste reflected on her lack of forethought. More savage clucking chickens fell from the void in reality above the courtyard. The stallion on the battlements cackled and wrung the ashen staff in his hooves. The giant purple gem atop the staff flashed erratically, making his crossed-eyes spin. The stallion was clearly Discord-Touched, driven mad by the artifact left behind after the Mad God's defeat. “Tear her apart!” the earth pony cackled. “Prove your strength!” Solene bit the head off one of the chickens trying to claw out her eyes and gagged at the taste. She spat the head out and nailed another chicken soaring towards her muzzle. Her heavy hooves crushed one each time she punched or stomped, but dozens more clung to her legs and pecked at her flesh. Even more scurried up her back or tangled themselves in her mane or tail. The stone courtyard had already blackened from the heat of her fireballs, but the alicorn was beginning to exhaust herself. There was an overwhelming smell of fried chicken, and the ground was no longer visible under the bodies. She stood on a foundation of dead fowl. One alicorn versus a chicken was not even a contest. One alicorn versus a hundred chickens was not even worth mentioning. One alicorn versus a thousand chickens was absurd, but manageable. One alicorn versus ten thousand constantly replenishing chickens was a joke from Chancellor Puddinghead. Solene hated that joke when Puddinghead told it, and she suspected the Poultrymancer was the mare’s descendant. He had the same shrill laugh. “I will kill—” her roar was cut off as she finally slipped under the feathered tide. Chickens clawed and scratched at her muzzle. The alicorn swung against them, but her limbs were already weighed down. She sank deeper into the mass. “Yes!” the Poultrymancer cried out. “Yes! First the Queen, then Equestria! All will bow to the power of chickenmancy!” Solene’s hooves squelched against the carcasses as the living chickens weighed her down. Her breath was constricted, and the wings and talons pricked at her. She couldn’t escape them; even as her horn flared and burned away a dozen, two dozen more fell into the gap and crushed her down. She couldn’t concentrate on her spellwork with them attempting to pluck out her eyes. And the Poultrymancer’s shrill laugh was blocked out by her ears as the chickens pecked at them. She couldn’t open her mouth to breathe as they pulled on her lips. The alicorn’s limbs began to slow as she ran out of breath. Solene, Queen of the Day, realized she was going to die to chickens. The Poultrymancer was so engrossed in his chicken pit he missed how his shadow stretched oddly behind him. Two tendrils of pure darkness rose up, then stabbed forward and pierced his back. The stallion spat blood mid-cackle and dropped the staff. He was pulled backwards, disappearing into a new void of pure darkness, falling into his own distorted shadow. His body was flung back out a moment later, slashed to ribbons. The shadow warped and stretched, and a nimble blue alicorn solidified where there was naught but pure darkness. Her starry mane and tail waved under a pitch-black cloak. The mare turned severe eyes down at the clucking mass. She clicked her tongue, then brought a silver-shod hoof down on the Staff of Wabbajack, shattering the gem. The void above the battlements vanished with the sound of a fart. The mare rolled her eyes. Wings fluttered under her cloak, and the hood glowed as she tugged it down. The writhing mass of chickens remained in the courtyard, clucking obscenely. The mare stood where the Poultrymancer stood, then shrugged up her cloak and sheathed her twin daggers under her wings. A wave of ice erupted from her horn and froze the first layer of chickens solid. The cold seeped downwards, killing the chickens layer by layer. The ice was cold enough to kill nearly anything. The mare wrinkled her nose at the smell of fried chicken. She gagged and held her cloak up over her muzzle. The alicorn waited with a tapping hoof. The courtyard was still. The mare sighed and extended her wings, preparing to flap down. A white, bloody hoof punched through a frozen chicken on the top layer. “Most good fortune,” the dark alicorn announced. “I was preparing to fetch thee.” Solene hauled herself onto the bed of frozen chickens, having clawed her way upwards with heavy hooves. She staggered upright, wings shredded by ten thousand beaks and bloody, but the wounds were not deep and already beginning to heal. A tendril of shadow slithered down from the battlements and Solene leaned against the oily surface. It hauled her up to the dark alicorn’s side before vanishing back under the mare’s cloak. The white alicorn curled in on herself for a moment, then turned her eyes up to her younger sister. The younger looked down on the elder with cold eyes. “Thou are most welcome,” she said formally. “I had it under control,” Queen Solene returned. “What’re you doing here, Lune?” “Am I not afforded my title in the daylight?” Lune snorted. She cast an eye upward at dusk. “My night already overtakes your day in the sky, sister mine.” “The moon isn’t up yet,” Solene pointed out. “Thou hast missed dinner,” Lune frowned. “One of thy walking cocks saw fit to wake me. I bid him to return to his post and prepare his sheath for service upon thy return.” “You do not order the Day Guard around,” Solene snarled. She gathered her legs under herself and stood up, eclipsing her younger sister in height and wingspan. She was bloody, but unbowed. “Your guards could at least fight,” Lune said mirthlessly. “I daresay they could’ve killed this foal on their own and not fallen for an obvious trap.” The mare flipped her hood up and kicked the broken staff over. “Thy thanks will suffice, Queen of the Day.” “Stop speaking like that,” Solene snorted. “It is ridiculous.” “It is the formal language of the Everfree court.” “You sound like a hornhead.” “I am a hornhead, sister mine,” the mare replied shortly, “and so are thee.” Solene swayed on her hooves and grunted. “Thank you,” she rolled her eyes, “oh mighty Queen of the Night.” “Thy mockery falls flat. I was not the one failing to defeat chickens.” “What?” Solene snorted. “You want to take over for the rest of the day? Go ahead. Want some guards that will actually fuck you instead of your insufferable bats? Take them too.” Lune ground her teeth from the depths of her hood. “I want thee to take me seriously.” A dark indigo hoof jabbed at the lacerated corpse a body length away. “Thou nearly died to a foal afflicted by madness.” “You wanted more recognition,” Solene said exasperatedly. “I named you Queen of the Night and Equestria a Diarchy. You wanted your own guards and I gave you the Night Guard.” “You gave me cast-offs,” Lune replied. “Nopony wishes to serve the Night Mare. And I rule over sleep and little else.” “Sounds like plenty of free time,” Solene shrugged a wing. She winced as a few feathers fell away. The alicorn turned back to the pit and frowned. “My spear is still in there.” “I have no time,” Lune growled. “No time for the Dreamscape and my duties. Because thou art a harlot and whore that does nothing in your day but fuck and fight her way across Equestria.” Solene nickered. “Don’t be jealous, Lune—” “I AM NOT JEALOUS.” A tendril of shadow slammed into Solene’s back and flung her tail over horn into the pit. The alicorn whinnied in surprise and slammed into the frozen, rock hard chickens. Her vision swam as she looked up to the battlements. For one moment, the darker alicorn looked horrified, but rallied her anger. “You stole my name!” Lune shouted down at her sister. “You do nothing to hold this kingdom together! It would fall within a fortnight without me! I write the laws, the taxes, the codes while you party and fight monsters…everything good is credited to you and everything evil goes to me!” Solene spat out blood and rolled to her hooves. “Please, Solene and Selene sounded like sisters. So what if a few ponies confused us?” “You only did it because of the flank—” “DO NOT,” Solene roared. “It would have never happened if you made it back,” Lune whickered. “You took years with Odyssey. You left me to face Discord alone.” “Discord’s madness made the sea wild,” Solene repeated for the hundredth time. “Do not blame me for that.” “But that was the start,” Lune countered. She paced atop the battlement, glowering from the depths of her hood. “You wish to be Queen, but want none of the responsibilities. I cannot even tend to the Dreamscape because you refuse to hold court.” “I hold court all the time,” Solene dismissed. She stomped through the corpses, trying to sense her enchanted spear underneath thousands of dead poultry. “Orgies are not court,” Lune snorted. “Ponies blame me for their nightmares now. I am the Night’s Queen, and I cannot even tend to the night.” “They blame you for those things because you are aloof and unapproachable,” Solene retorted. She winced again, feeling angry and exhausted from the hours-long battle. She tossed her floating mane. “Have some merriment in your life, sister.” “I have no time for merriment,” Lune growled, “because you refuse to do your fucking job!” “I raise the sun,” Solene snapped back. “Every day, no matter how hungover.” She grimaced at the crunch of frozen chicken, and gagged at the smell of fried chicken below it. Her horn was burnt out from spellcasting, so it would be slow, tireless work to find her spear. “Truly an achievement,” Lune said dryly. Her horn glowed and the moon rose into the sky, signaling that it was officially the Lunar Court and Queen Lune of the Night ruled Equestria. “I shall return to Everfree. The tithes from the north have been disorganized since the fall of the Crystal Empire.” “Those shadow monsters weren’t very tough,” Solene commented idly as she brushed a few corpses aside. “I recall the nightmares they induced more frightening,” Lune retorted. “If you dream of chickens, I did not do it.” The alicorn tilted her head to the side. “Goodbye, sister.” “You want to help me find my spear?” Solene called back. “It’s somewhere down here.” “Do you care for nothing but that hunk of magic wood?” Lune snorted. “I’ve had it longer than I’ve known you,” Solene snapped up at her. Her ears wilted immediately at the sudden look of pain on her sister’s muzzle. Lune’s shadows swirled around her and she retreated from the edge of the battlements. “Wait!” Solene called out. “I didn’t mean it like that! Sister! Please! I’m sorry!” Lune stepped back from the shadows and pulled her hood away. She stared down at her sister. They looked nothing alike. Lune was lithe and lean, still a pegasus’ frame after the centuries while Solene had the body most mares would die for. She was a warrior, even bloody and beaten, and held the love of her ponies. As long as she sat the Solar Throne, Equestria was protected by a Warrior Queen. “You saved my life,” Solene admitted. Her wings sagged to the chickens. “I am sorry. Thank you, sister. Father would beat me for an eternity for dying to poultry.” Lune smiled. It was clearly the first smile in a long time. Her lips twitched as if she had forgotten how to do it. “Thou are most welcome, sister mine.” “Come with me back to Hollow Shades,” Solene continued, “you beat the Poultrymancer, so you’re the guest of honor at the victory feast. Come get drunk with me for the night. There are a couple stallions that are just your type—” Lune made a disgusted noise. Her eyes clouded. “You do not listen, even with that horn nailed to your head. You are a terrible Queen.” “Fine,” Solene snorted. “At least ponies like me, sister. You’re just the Night Mare to our subjects: cold, calculating, and unlovable.” Lune’s clouded eyes sharpened. Her irises glowed under her black hood. “…I suppose I must be,” she said slowly. “I suppose it is my royal duty, sister.” The mare sank into shadow and whirled away from the battlements. Solene rolled her eyes and resumed digging through the chickens for her spear. The light from the pale, featureless moon above assisted her. The alicorn laughed to herself about the overdramatic shadows her sister preferred. Her legs shook now that she was alone, and she took a shuddering breath. She still felt the feathers and beaks pecking at her, even though nothing lived but her atop Mount Canterhorn. The feeling was worse; she was alone again. “Not my fault you’re the Night Mare,” Solene grumbled to herself. "Princess!" Sergeant Nocturne whinnied. "Watch out!"