//------------------------------// // Six Mourners Attending The Dead Guard's Funeral // Story: Of Course // by RavensDagger //------------------------------// “Never did tombs look so ghastly white. Never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funeral gloom. Never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously. Never did bough creak so mysteriously, and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.” ― Bram Stoker Guards were everywhere, yet not a single piece of their iconic white armour was visible at the top of the grassy hill. Instead, the congregation of reverent ponies moved about, murmuring as they marched in clumps between the rows of grey tombstones. Above, the sun tried valiantly to shine through the overcast of thick clouds promising an incoming rainfall as weather patrol ponies scattered around. Beyond, a gigantic mountain rose, piercing into the skies as its sides twinkled with the thousands of lights from the city of Canterlot. The only other source of light was a round pavillion placed at the edge of the cemetery near a freshly dug hole. From within her gilded carriage, Executor watched the proceedings of that fateful morning, hoping her simple mission would proceed without a hitch. Biting her lower lip, the pegasus leaned back into the privacy of the leased vehicle. It’s going to be fine, she told herself, exhaling gently in a shudder before resting her head on the velvety cushion. The carriage bumped onwards along the hole-filled dirt road, sliding into place behind a long row of similar vehicles broken up by the occasional vapour-spewing steam carriages transporting the more affluent guests of the somber event. Planner spent days making sure this would be okay; all I have to do is walk up to her, whisper my lines, and leave again. Nothing bad should happen. The mare touched a black case resting on the seat across from hers, caressing the object with the tip of a manicured hoof before bouncing as her vehicle hit another rut. She pulled her arm back from the broken contact. “We’re almost there, miss,” a muffled voice called from ahead as the tip of a chauffeur's hat appeared near her window. “Oh, thank you, mister,” she said, adjusting her dress one last time as she pushed off the bench and stood in the small area in front of the gilded wooden doorway. The beautiful mare grabbed her black case and slung it over her shoulder just as the carriage jerked to a stop. A few seconds later, the chauffeur opened the door, allowing a stray beam of sunlight to burst into the dark confines of the cabin. Her short, white mane glowed as she moved out, ducking her head to pass through the tight exit. Looking around, she spotted a group of ponies gathered near the stone archway leading into the cemetery, all of them circling the noble form of a tall, white unicorn laughing raucously at his own joke. Almost as one, the group turned and shamelessly stared at Executor as she climbed out of the carriage, aided by the chauffeur’s helpful hoof. The breeze picked up then, lifting the edge of her bronze dress and exposing her curvy flanks to the gawking stallions. With a yelp, the mare twisted around and bit the edge of her outfit, dragging it down while her face reddened. The nearby stallions parted as their leader shoved through, his lust-filled blue eyes alighting on her form and tracing their way around it. He moved forwards, prancing on the soggy ground with firm stabs of his long, white limbs, his chest puffing out beneath his small, elegant vest. “Hello, milady,” he said, taking a half bow, his eyes salivating over her form. Executor took a half-step back, blinking at the noble pony. Blueblood’s here? I was supposed to meet him later, not now. She gulped. Maybe I can start that part of the plan now? It will make the next step easier. “He-hello, Prince Blueblood,” she said, her voice almost fading to a whisper. The prince smiled, beaming as he straightened his back and rose his eyebrows at her in a fashion only he thought as seductive. “If I may inquire, my fine lady, do you happen to be alone at this...” He quickly inspected the somber surroundings, a look of disgust crossing his noble face. “Event?” “Um, no, not really,” she said, pawing at the ground as a lock of her mane slid in front of her eyes. “I came alone.” A sleazy smile spread across the unicorn’s face. “Well, I cannot leave a mare as eloquent and exquisite as you around these... brutish guards on her own.” She blushed, her entire golden face glowing red as she twisted away in embarrassment. “I-I couldn’t ask, Your Highness. I’m not... I’m not worthy of your attention,” Executor said in a whisper. “Nonsense!” he declared, grabbing her foreleg and dragging her to his side. “Come, we’ll find a place for ourselves in one of the better areas.” Blueblood walked forwards, bringing the much smaller Executor with him as he flashed a cruel grin at the ensemble of stallions nearby. The impromptu couple marched along the paved steps leading up a hill and to a small clearing filled with the markers dedicated to the loyal guards of Equestria. There, a tarp had been set over a dozen rows of garden chairs, all of them facing a single open casket, the body of Mister Withershins looking serene within, despite the thick coats of make-up covering him. Ponies in their best suits and cleanly pressed formal dress uniforms milled around the casket, paying their respects to the deceased and his nearby family in quick, respectful whispers. Those words froze on their lips as the assembled party looked to the sky as one. Above, the clouds were parted and a gilded carriage pulled by two pegasi in dark livery swooped down with Princess Celestia sitting in the throne making up the majority of the stagecoach. The vehicle came to a gentle landing at the base of the hill, the Princess within stepping out in a single, fluid movement, her long legs touching the ground one at a time. She stood there, looking every bit the powerful monarch she was, as her mane billowed in an unseen wind within the black veil surrounding it. Everywhere, ponies bowed down, their chins almost touching the ground as they faced their ruler with reverence. Many though, mostly the richer nobles and the rising business ponies, made their bows short, and quickly rose back to a more dignified position. Celestia nodded to her subjects, allowing them to return to a steadier position. She began the long climb up, stopping to talk to various ponies crowding around her as she ascended the hill. The princess headed towards the tarp, ducking slightly before trotting to the front and occupying a seat on the front row, right by the unmoving casket. Other ponies began heading toward the tent, quietly finding seats for themselves as an almost imperceptible clamour rose from the whisperings of the group. Blueblood reached out, shoving Executor’s side forwards. “Quick, I can’t be seen sitting in the back rows. I must have a good seat.” With that, the prince pranced ahead, his heavy footfalls thumping on the soggy ground as he dragged the pegasus alongside him. A dozen ponies stared their way, the noble pony looked upon with scorn, while his companion was gazed at with disguised lust. With a bowed head and a thick blush, she marched at his side, casting furtive glances at those watching her. I just need to be calm and relay the message, that’s all. In the front most row was a group of mares, all of them wearing massive plume and fur covered hats that fluttered as they turned to look at her, eyebrows rising at the same time as their heckles. Their husbands and suitors just smiled sheepishly and watched her walk by. Blueblood waved at a pair of twins a few rows back, both of whom tipped their hats at him in unison as he found a seat for himself at the far end of the first row, leaving only one empty bench to his side. Executor stalled to a halt as the prince settled himself in the chair, glancing at her inquisitively. “Is something wrong?” he asked. She stared at the empty chair, then at the pony right beside it. Through her intricate black veil, Princess Celestia stared back, a small smile adorning her lips as she made the tiniest of motions with her head. A wave of warm reassurance crawled through Executor’s body before she returned a timid smile and carefully slid into the free bench, squeezing away from the princess out of respect. With a wing tip, she slid her black case to the side of the chair between herself and Blueblood. Okay, she thought, peeking at the alicorn at her side, this is going too well. Slowly, the mare looked at the princess’ straight back; royal countenance; and focused, disciplined eyes, which almost glared at the open coffin. “Thank you,” Executor whispered, wringing her hooves together as she looked away. A well-dressed unicorn walked around the pavillion, shuffling a few pieces of wrinkled paper as he stepped up to a raised podium. Coughing, he began. “Um, hello. We are here today, at this somber gathering, to celebrate the life of our friend, mentor, and guardian.” The stallion stopped, batting a cloth at his sweaty brow before gulping beneath the stares of the gathered mourners and politicians. “My friend, and former colleague, Withershins, was one of the best ponies I have ever had the opportunity to work with. He cared for my loving wife in her youth, and our princess for many years—” Blueblood sighed, rolling his eyes as he leaned back into his seat and rested his chin on his chest. Princess Celestia turned her glare towards her nephew, huffing at his lack of decorum and decency. It’s now or never. Executor inched to the edge of her seat, just as the princess turned back to the orator. Gently, the mare reached out, her hoof shivering as it stopped a hairsbreadth away from the monarch’s white coat. Celestia peeked down at the golden limb, one of her eyebrows rising curiously at the frozen mare. Swallowing a hard lump, Executor pulled her hoof back. “C-can we talk?” she asked the surprised princess. The alicorn nodded. “Not now, but I’ll be glad to talk to you once this is all done,” she said in a gentle and compassionate voice. Executor closed her eyes, a pained expression crossing her innocent features. “No, we have to talk now.” Her deep blue eyes darted to the assembled ponies behind them, many of whom were dabbing at their faces while their shoulders jerked up and down. “And we have to do it here.” The princess blinked at the sudden order delivered in a shy, crackling voice. “Okay, I’ll amuse you,” she said, suspicion and curiosity inching into her tone. “Th-thank you. We’re the ones who killed Withershins.” The princess froze, her flowing mane crawling to a halt as she stared, wide-eyed, at Executor. Before the princess could protest, Executor went on. “It’s true. I’m the one who... who got rid of Filthy Rich. And we’re going to do it again.” “Why... why are you telling me this?” Celestia hissed. “Why not?” Executor replied, her voice still as quiet, yet growing braver. “You know why we’re doing this. You’ve been informed; we made sure of it.” The princess kept glaring through her veil. “Are you going to kill me now? Am I your new subject of corruption and pitiful vigilantism?” Executor’s eye widened. “Ki-kill you? Of course not. You’re a symbol of peace and security, and you’ve striven to carry out justice in all things. We have nothing to reproach you on. Some other ponies though, deserve what’s coming.” Celestia glared at the smaller pony, a firm authority sinking into her voice. “So why did you come? Why are you here?” “To warn you. Soon, we’re going to act. All of us. And we’re going to eliminate the last of the bad ponies. Hopefully, the rest, those that aren’t yet completely bad, will understand.” The princess nodded slowly before leaning down, facing Executor at eye level, her breath whispering past the shy mare’s face. “And what if I try to stop you?” Executor backed away slowly, her gaze turning to the black briefcase. Celestia reddened, glaring at the unmoving case before returning her gaze to Executor. “You wouldn’t dare.” The shy mare turned away, her own face blushing. “We-we would. I’m sorry. B-but don’t worry,” she said, returning the gaze with wide eyes. “That’s not our goal here. Don’t worry.” Subtly, the princess’ shoulders dipped down as she let out a small sigh. “Why... why do you do it?” she whispered. Executor studied the podium for a moment as one speaker climbed down and another replaced him. The two mares waited through the quiet lull with their heads bowed in thought and respect. Finally, the new orator began talking, going into a deep and emotional speech that got many to shiver tearfully. Executor chose that moment to lean towards the princess. “My parents weren’t very rich to begin with. Then, my daddy discovered gambling. There were places you could do that, places that accepted that sort of thing. They were growing strong, but we were growing weaker. My mom didn’t have a lot of bits; not enough for all of us.” “So she gave me up.... No, she didn’t. She just let me go one day. So I wandered Canterlot. Some ponies helped me... most didn’t. And then, I saw my family. They were being pulled out of our... their house by some thugs. They dragged my mom around, screaming at my dad. Then, they started hitting each other.... Mom didn’t live. “I spent the rest of that winter wandering around, crying, hiding, stealing to eat. Then, she found me.” Executor sank into silence, swiping a hoof at her face before dropping it on her lap, the damp limb unmoving. “Who was ‘she’?” Celestia asked. “I-I can’t tell you that. But she saved me, and I would do anything for her.” The mare looked into the alicorn’s eyes, a firm determination sparking within her own. “Anything at all. We’ll make Equestria right again, one pony at a time.” “I can’t let you do that.” “We’re not asking you to let us.” Executor tore her gaze away, shifting on her seat as she did so. “You’re the next to talk,” she added as she turned back to the front. The princess’ head snapped forwards, watching as the current speaker delivered the last lines of his discourse and stepped back, bowing his head before marching off the small stage. The tarped area filled with a patient silence as many looked towards their monarch. Celestia sighed, and with one last suspicious glance at Executor, stood up and marched onto the stage, tucking herself behind the tiny podium as her hair fluctuated wildly between the netting of her veil. “Hello,” she began, her voice hoarse and tense. “Withershins was a pony I was familiar with, more so than many. In the long years he spent with us, I saw him stumble; I saw him fall into temptation, but every single time, he would get back up and serve the greater good. He always made sure that Equestria was ready for another day of peace and prosperity...” Executor coughed lightly, pushed off her seat, and quickly took off, flying away when she reached the edge of the pavilion. Blueblood blinked at where she was moments before, his jaw working, before he huffed and crossed his arms, pouting uselessly. “Darn. I had that one in the bag.... I’ll have to get two mares tonight,” he whispered, licking his fat lips as he inspected the nearby noblemares. The princess finished her speech and returned to her seat. Some ponies shared a quick glance when the monarch got up almost immediately, her horn’s glow emulated around a black briefcase. The stiff-legged alicorn walked away, smiling reassuringly to any that approached her before escaping to the privacy of her carriage. There, the case was opened, revealing a single sheet of white paper with a message written on it with a complex, archaic scroll. With a whisper, the princess read the message. “All our dreams and our hopes from now until hereafter All that we've been wishing for will happen at the Gala, at the Gala This is what we've waited for, to have the best night ever Each of us will live our dreams, tonight at the Gala, at the Gala All we've longed for, all we've dreamed, our happy ever after Finally, will all come true, right here at the Grand Gala, at the Gala This will be the best night ever Into the Gala we must go, we're ready now, we're all aglow Into the Gala, let's go in and have the best night ever Into the Gala, now's the time, we're ready and we look divine At the Gala!" Nope, I didn’t alter the lyrics, they were creepy all along. Edited by: StapleCactus Preread by: Frederick the Saiyan Cpl Hooves You Antagonist and a fellow by the name of D48 joined up this time, he’s nice enough.