They’re so... pointy.
Midday sunlight gleamed off of the teeth within the smiling mouth before her. Though the light shone uncomfortably in Twilight Sparkle’s eyes, she found herself unable to move a muscle.
The mare could feel a trickle of sweat roll down her forehead. She hoped he wouldn’t see it, or any of the shivering her body had just decided to busy itself with. If he notices, he might get offended! And who knows what he’d do to me if... Wait, since when have I ever been xenophobic?
“Miss Sparkle?” said the hyena ambassador, his voice rough. “I’ve just offered my name and a greeting. Is that not the custom here, upon a first meeting?”
Twilight blinked, shaking her head. “Y-yes, of course! Sorry,” she said. “It’s good to meet you, Yaman. I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student to Princess Celestia. Sorry for being so scatterbrained—please, come in.”
“There is no need for you to apologize,” said Yaman, stepping past Twilight and into the Golden Oaks Library. The grey- and black-furred hyena, clad in a brilliant orange cloak, looked about the little library with a toothy smile on his face, as a noble enjoying quaintness for its novelty. “I imagine my visit comes as quite the surprise.”
Twilight struggled to keep a smile on her face. Who knew their voices were really this menacing... I’d thought that was just a stereotype.
“No, no,” said Twilight, shutting the door. She walked over to where Yaman had just seated himself—some cushions she’d laid out earlier that day. “Princess Celestia was quite clear on when you’d be arriving. These past couple weeks have been so interesting, all of the diplomats she’s introduced me to.”
Yaman raised an eyebrow. “Ah, then I am not the first you’ve met? So what causes you to shake and fret?” His lips cracked into a grin once again, the daggers in his mouth displayed fully. “A tempting scent is in the air...” he said now, low enough that Twilight thought she wasn’t supposed to have heard it. “Sweat and fear, hopeless despair.”
“N-no, you a-aren’t the first!” Twilight stuttered helplessly. “T-there were the S-Saddle A-Arab—”
Yaman laughed suddenly, a piercing cackle that sent Twilight scrambling backwards, almost knocking over a book-laden table. She curled up and shivered fitfully now, and only as the fearsome cackling tapered off into good-natured—if gruff—chuckling did she dare to look up again. Yaman wore a genuine smile now.
“I truly hope that was not too far,” said the hyena. “You ponies—how sensitive you are! Calm down, Miss Sparkle. Sit and rest. I promise it was all a jest.”
When her legs allowed her to stand up again, Twilight walked cautiously to the cushions. “That was awfully mean,” she said finally, tone neutral.
Yaman chuckled once more. “It was an opportunity not to be missed; you were far too easy. I could not resist! And as they say around the plains, ‘laugh not, and you shall feel life’s pains.’”
The hyena’s cackling passed through Twilight’s mind, and she shuddered again. Seeing the raised-eyebrow look Yaman was giving her, she knew he’d noticed.
“Miss Sparkle,” said Yaman, “it seems I gave you quite the scare. Please, sit down. I wish only to clear the air.”
The mare complied, flopping onto a large cushion across from him. “Sorry,” said Twilight. “...I don’t mean to offend you, but to be perfectly honest, that laugh of yours was a bit... scary.”
“Ah, is that all that has you troubled? The sound of my laugh?” Yaman asked. Twilight nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes. “Then I must apologize on hyenakind’s behalf.” Twilight opened her mouth to reply, but Yaman continued, his expression stern, “Miss Sparkle, do not worry—I fully understand. Tell me, would you share in a tradition from my land?”
That jarred Twilight. Brows furrowed, she asked, “A tradition?... Is it some sort of apology?”
“No, Miss,” the hyena replied, “not exactly. ‘Introduction’ would be more apt. When cultures are so different, it helps us to adapt. Each party tells a story, one that they hold dear. We find it helps immensely—makes perspectives clear.”
The mare pondered Yaman’s proposal, but it didn’t take her long. “I can’t see why not. I... I get the sense that you have one in mind you want to tell me?”
Yaman nodded. “I do have just the story, if you care to lend an ear. One that strangers to hyenas would oft do well to hear. But I fear that I must warn you, your kind might call it ‘dark’, yet it is important to us, like, to you, the cutie m—”
“Say no more,” said Twilight, raising a forehoof. “If it’s that important, there’s no good reason I shouldn’t hear it. I can take some unpleasantness if it means getting a better understanding of your culture.”
The hyena smiled toothily once again, and began.
The elders tell of times long past,
When throughout the plains, hyenas massed.
Yet they were not as we are now;
Naught but beasts they were, strong, fierce and fast.
And they acted as befits a beast,
Procreation, slaughter, feast,
Till a Monster came, we know not how.
Through Him, lowliness soon ceased.
He taught us Speech and gave us Art,
Wisdom vast did he impart,
Such tokens of benevolence,
“From the kindness of His heart”.
Soon came other lessons great,
On War and Death and how to Hate.
To show our true malevolence,
Blood we drank and flesh we ate.
Such change in us did he beget,
That soon enough our fate was set;
For every teaching He bestowed,
We were in this Monster’s debt.
No true repayment could we afford,
“So,” He bade us, “call me Lord.”
What he asked we paid, we named, we owed,
Monster, Scoundrel, King, Discord.
His to use, our teeth and claws,
We would clamp the world within our maws.
Our kind shouted a prostrate cry,
And set out to push the Monster’s cause.
Onward we marched, countless the hour,
Far afield we’d burn and scour,
And though the dead were soon piled high,
‘Twas better than to face His glower.
Chomp and slice and gut and chop,
Till one day saw the fighting stop.
The kingdom, His in one fell swoop,
A bloodsoaked corpse, with Him atop.
The Monster, King, the kingdom, weak,
Yet greater might did he still seek,
Though not strength gained by Fear, or Troop,
But magical—darkness unique.
Such black rituals He wrought,
His Monstrous soul’d been all but bought,
And His body, then, true Chaos took,
As battles in His mind were fought.
A person He’d once been, if flawed;
Now that seemed a woeful fraud.
Reality before Him shook,
Dark, insane, our new Mad God.
The Monster held aloft the crown,
Years many till He’d be struck down,
And we became His favorite slaves,
Our mothers grey and fathers brown.
Pain amused Him, on most days;
Whips cracked, brands seared, and bars always.
Those that did not meet our graves,
Soon felt our minds beset by haze.
Hyenakind knew Madness then,
And animals we were again,
Our sapience bound and shackled,
His dungeons, cold, to be our den.
So broken, small, minds mired in blight,
Yet then there came, by chance, a night,
When loud, and dry, one victim cackled;
Her sense returned, her spirits bright.
The Laughter held our pain at bay,
The Dark, the Fear, seemed worlds away.
It mended heart and strengthened will;
We’d nevermore be led astray.
Our people still hold Laughter dear,
Its bolstering, its warmth and cheer,
So always this do we instill:
“Forever Laughter, never Fear.”
Twilight Sparkle’s stomach had been churning fitfully since almost the beginning of Yaman’s story, and her face had gone somewhat pale.
“Miss Sparkle?” Yaman asked, smiling. “Tell me truly: was the story all too much? It is not oft told to ponies—you all react as such.” He motioned a paw at all of the mare’s clammy, lightly shivering form, and started chuckling.
A pregnant silence passed, before Twilight spoke, “Th-that was terrible! The torture, the killing... Please tell me nopo—er, no one really had to go through all of that? It couldn’t all be true, could it?”
“That,” replied Yaman, “no hyena can truly say, our laughter’s legend is so old. But it is for children”—Twilight reared her head back, mouth agape—“so the moral matters, less the story told. Though, we laugh because we wish to laugh, not as some evil’s bane. For he who does not wish to laugh must already be insane.”
The hyena began to cackle then, gleeful and sharp. Twilight watched him—his jagged teeth waving about, his eyes wild, his nostrils flared—with no hint of emotion on her face for a few moments.
Then, her face scrunched up, and she started sniggering.
Soon after, she was giggling outright.
Before long, the mare was laughing uproariously alongside Yaman, tears in both their eyes, and chests quickly becoming sore.
After the laughter had died down, there were a few moments of happy silence, before Twilight’s expression shifted to one a touch more somber. “Yaman,” she said, “I almost didn’t catch it, you passed over it so quickly. The monster you spoke of—you said he was actually Discord?”
Yaman nodded. “The Dark One, The Monster, Lover of Sadistic Games. You called him Discord; hyenas gave him many names.”
Another moment passed, then Twilight’s eyes opened wide. Snuggling more deeply into her cushion, a smile on her face, she said, “With that in mind, I think I know what story I’m going to share with you. This one takes place a bit more recently, and was also pretty scary, at least for my friends and I...”