//------------------------------// // The Most Sincere Love // Story: Odrsjot // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// "Unnngh!" Kera grunted, her hooves fumbling as she was shoved forcefully across the battleship's deck by three stallions. "Stop it! Stop shoving me, already!" "Sir?" One enforcer ignored her entirely, speaking to the stallion directly behind her. "Should we search the wreckage or continue advancing east?" "That ship wasn't our target." "Then we are to leave the burning refuse alone?" "I'll tell you once the Prime Enforcer tells me." "Sir, the crew has waited long enough! When's he going to show his face, at least?" "Patience, damn it!" The one stallion growled as he held Kera firmly with a telekinetic grip. The foal looked up to see a series of cabin doors, their windows reflecting dozens of nervous, emaciated stallions hard at work around the deck. "When the Prime Enforcer has a plan ready, I'll let you know! No sooner!" "Mmmnngh... Aye, sir..." The stallion knocked on the door to the cabin. Something muffled responded from within; Kera couldn't hear from the blood rushing through her head. With a burst of magic, the stallion opened the door and started pushing Kera. The filly suddenly panicked. All she saw was shadow, and there was a rusted smell to the interior. A buzzing sound lit the far corners of the place, causing her heart to jump in fear. She tried galloping away, but only tripped on the folds of her extra large cloak. The weight of the hidden book pulled her down, and she collapsed onto the interior's floor with a grunt. "Ooof!" Almost immediately, a quartet of pale, heavy hooves stormed across the cabin. "How dare you?!" An enraged voice shouted, causing the stallion who shoved Kera inside to flinch. "Is she some sort of lump of meat?! I told you that no h-harm was to come to her!" "Sir, I-I apologize! But, to be perfectly honest, it's a miracle that we got her out of there in one piece to begin with! By the time you spotted her, the ship was already burning up!" "It'll be a miracle that you live to see another day if you ever harm another child! Not on my ship! Not on my continent!" Kera hyperventilated. She looked past the forest of legs and saw a bed in the corner of the dark place. She scurried over, slid, and squatted low beneath the mattress, shivering. "Sir, again, I'm sorry..." "This is about more than you or me. Or the crew." "I know, sir, but the crew is what we need to get us to where we need to go. They're growing antsy, sir. Do... d-do we have orders?" "Head east. Scan for skystone. Shoot anything we find." "Uhh--" "But look for children first this time!" "But of course sir. And in the meantime, about gaining more rations—?" "Are you deaf, enforcer?" Silence. Then: "N-no, sir. I apologize, sir. We shall follow through with your orders." "See that you do." The younger stallion trotted out, closed the cabin doors with a creak, and cast the place into darkness. Kera was still panting. She courageously attempted to stick her head out and get a better look at the place. As her horn brushed across the wooden floorboards, she noticed a distinct discoloration. While she glanced down, a series of candles happened to be lit that very moment. She saw several dark red stains in the woodwork. In the corner adjacent to her, a foreleg was lying on its side, and next to it she saw the ivory hint of bone: a set of teeth and two empty eye sockets. Flies were buzzing. The foal gasped—swiftly slapping two hooves over her muzzle as she lay under the bed in wide-eyed silence. Candle after candle, the room grew brighter. Shadows danced in a crimson hue. The floorboards creaked and creaked, getting closer. The hooves stopped. Silence. A stool grinded against the floor and came to a stop just a few feet away. Fetlocks shuffled into view. The stool shifted from the weight of an aged flank sitting down on it. "You're safe now," a deep voice said. "Those amoral vagabonds won't hurt you anymore. I've actually stumbled upon their kind before. They attack Ledomaritan installations, disobey the queen, and malign the Spark. And yet... they are not the target with skystone that I was looking for. You see, it was an honest mistake, and though I am making a lot of those lately, I know I owe it to you to keep you well-protected. I'm... sorry that you got caught in the crossfire." Nervous silence. "Again..." Kera's eyes darted left and right over where her hooves continuously clamped over her muzzle. Something glinted in the corner of her eyes. She saw a floating dagger and her body jumped against the hanging mattress of the bed. "There are so many evil ponies in this world," he said, twirling the blade and lifting it somewhere beyond Kera's view. "So many treacherous souls. So many enemies of the state. I know that if I tried to find them all, I would be flying forever. You were right about that. I just... I d-didn't have the foresight to realize it before." The air filled with a metallic ringing noise, rhythmic and repetitive. "But that's all changed now. All I care for is my target. Once I have her, once I've thrown her back into the hooves of the Council, everything shall end." The noise echoed and repeated, adding a melodic tone to his otherwise dull voice. "I will stop chasing. I will come home. We can be together again." White flakes littered the wooden floorboards. Kera glanced just beyond the edge of the bed. She flinched as a sliver or two fell closer to her nose, fluttering across the floor like stripped barks from a tree. "I hope you do realize that I'm not mad at you. It's simply not something I'm capable of expressing. But you know that. I would like to think that you've always known that, but I can't speak for you." The blade was put away, and something slender levitated just within view from where the foal lay. She craned her neck to look at it, but all she saw was a hole carved through at the base. "But I intend to stay close to you... to keep you close... and maybe, just maybe, if I'm not capable of hate... then maybe—over time—I can learn how to love, or at least how to properly love. I know you deserve that. Every child does." With a rattling sound, a length of beaded metal levitated towards the white object, threading through the hole at the bottom. A necklace was made, and only when the thing drifted up out of view did Kera realize it was a unicorn horn, snow-white and shaved of all its skin, and carved smooth at the base. "It's the children who suffer the most. I realize that now, too. I promise that I will make you proud of me. I will do what I can to make sure that the biggest monster of all is put down... the very same monster who took you from me..." Kera bit her lip. She looked around, and saw a space on the other side of the bed large enough for her to crawl through. On shuffling limbs, she inched her way towards it. Suddenly, though, her body glittered all over with expert telekinesis. She let out a slight shriek as she was hoisted out from beneath the bed and into the scarred face of an old stallion with a disheveled gray mane. "Please..." He stammered with a quivering lip. "Believe me, Imre. I do feel. Even if all I feel... burns me up inside." A tear ran down his one good eye as his uneven breaths tickled the coat hairs of her tattoos. "But it's a good flame, one I owe to you. I thank you for that, and I pray... I seriously hope and pr-pray that you'll have the mercy to f-forgive me..." Kera's wide eyes quivered. She glanced down at his dangling necklace, eying the pale horn. Its smoothely carved bone matter glistened in the candlelight between them. A synapse or two fired in the little filly's head, and she looked back up at him in time to murmur a reply. "Of c-course, Daddy." She swallowed and spoke in a dry voice. "I-I forgive you." Shell's face leaned to the side. His jaw flexed and unflexed, as if uncertain whether to produce a sob or a laugh. Ultimately, he hung his head and shuddered. "I... I will make it w-worth it for you, Imre." His head darted back up with pursing lips. "I..." He reached a hoof forward. Kera flinched, but didn't fight it as he caressed her cheek, tracing the designs around her muzzle. "I will m-make them pay for what they've done to you..." His breath had a heated stench to it as it suddenly growled. "I will make her pay for all that she's done. And then we will be a happy family together again." Kera stifled a yelp as she felt herself being lifted up and across the room. The folds of a mattress beant beneath her petite weight. Blankets lifted up and over her and the book in her cloak. Before she realized what was happening, Shell leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before nuzzling her mane. "Rest easy, Imre. If your mother was here right now," he said in a deep voice. "She would be proud of how strong you've become. I can only wonder if... if she would be proud of me for keeping to the promise I made—" Just then, there was a heavy knock on the door. Shell's head hung, his gray hairs tickling Kera's chin. His body shook, and when he spun about, he growled in another voice. "What in blazes do you want?!" "Sir, I-I'm so sorry!" a stallion replied from the other side. "But there is a stormfront ahead. If we fly through it like the last one, we might suffer more structural damage!" "And just what is it you want from me?! Am I a god of the weather now?" "Sir, if you were to just look at the navigational charts, we have two or three alternate routes already planned." Shell grumbled. He took a deep breath and patted Kera's forelimb through the blanket. "Just sleep for now, my beloved Imre. Later, we can share warm stories of home." Then, with a rattle of the horn necklace, he thundered his way towards the entrance of the cabin and flung the doors open to the bright world. "Fine. Take me to the navigation room. But need I remind you? The target doesn't brake for storms!" "Most likely not, sir, but this will give us the advantage of surviving in one piece while she threatens herself and her whole crew—" "She threatens her crew simply by existing, for I shall eradicate every bleeding heart that attaches itself to her. Now, let's be quick about this..." The doors closed, shutting Kera in with the candlelight. The filly was in the process of weathering a series of dry heaves. When she finally managed to shove the taste of bile back down her throat, she kicked off the bed and jumped onto the floor. The book shifted underneath her cloak, and she held it shut from swinging any further. Gnawing on her lip, she glanced up from the book towards the door, then back at where it hung. A shudder escaped her lips as she spun about and ran along the length of the wall. She tapped the wooden boards in multiple places, looking for a sign of weakness in the structure. She momentarily tripped over something. Flies flew up in her face as her ears twitched to the rattle of calcified objects. Pressing on, Kera finally knocked a piece of wall paneling that resonated with a deep echo. There was a hollow space on the other side. Casting one nervous glance over her shoulder, Kera turned back and aimed her horn at the panels. It took some concentrated effort, but she was able to rip the board off from its foundation. There was a slight creaking noise, but she succeeded. Crouching low, she crawled through the space and closed the plank behind her. It was supremely dark inside the space, and after one single hoofstep, Kera fell about three feet. She shrieked, tumbled, and landed on an even plane. Taking deep breaths, she adjusted the folds of her robe and attempted to crawl forward. Parting the cloak a bit, she allowed a rune or two of the tome to peak freely. The lavender light illuminated a long path, skittering with spiders and rats. It led almost the entire length of the ship. Kera could hear the muffled sounds of clopping hooves, twisting machinery, and stallions' voices. Weathering a shudder or two, she nevertheless crawled forward, creeping towards what she presumed was the stern of the vessel. It mattered little; all she wanted was to get out of there... and away from that room full of rust and flies.