Cepheus trotted out from the back-entrance of the hovel. He stopped and looked at the sky, the moon, and the stars. A soft breeze caressed his golden mane, the air balmy and carrying the smoky scent of meals being prepared over cooking fires.
He inhaled deeply, taking it all in. The striations of wispy looking clouds overhead gave the starry night the appearance of a black, diamond-studded fabric.
The moon hung directly overhead, meaning Cepheus had a good few hours of moonlight left. Fate had granted him ideal weather for his date. He just hoped that Candle didn’t notice the makeup over his black eye. He rubbed the spot, the bruise still sore.
Mother was an earth pony, a mare born for farming, and she had hooves of iron. Cepheus had now experienced it firsthand. Candle was an earth pony too. She was probably just as strong as Mother, if not stronger. Her well-toned flank definitely said so.
Cepheus grinned, thinking about his date with Candle. He was still nervous though, after all, this was his first date. Ever.
He began trotting toward Chicken Noodle’s hovel. The quaint little chef donkey had made a very nice picnic basket for him and Candle. Cepheus would pick up the basket, along with a tablecloth and some candles, and head over to his super-romantic spot where he would meet the lovely mare.
He was giddy, but then he remembered something that dampened his mood. Sirius would have loved this development in his love life, Cepheus thought.
He turned around and faced the hovel, seeing the shabby awning where his brother slept. “Where have you gone, Sirius?” he pondered aloud. “Have you run away?”
Cepheus missed him. They were best pals, and they may never see each other again. Sirius had been gone for two days now. Cepheus sighed. “I hope that wherever you are, you’re happy. No matter whom you may become, or what you might do, you will always be my brother.”
Cepheus didn’t care about him being a rape-foal, or any of that. Sirius was not to blame for what his father had done, or the fashion he had been created in. I hope you’re all right, Sirius.
Cepheus pushed down his concern for Sirius. He was a grown stallion and a pegasus, he could take care of himself.
His heart still ached, but he was distracted by the image of Candle’s swaying plot. Just the thought was hypnotic. Cepheus sighed, hopelessly infatuated. His heart wanted a long term relationship that would hopefully blossom into a happy marriage, but his loins were screaming “one night stand.”
Cepheus wiggled uncomfortably. “Think clean thoughts. Think clean thoughts,” he repeated to himself over and over again.
He trotted through the cobblestone paths of the village, and finally arrived at Chicken Noodle’s hovel. Cepheus’ mouth watered at the smell of the meal Chicken had prepared for both of them.
The donkey chef appeared in the doorway, his chef’s hat as tall as he was. Chicken saw Cepheus and waved at him.
Cepheus waved back, beaming. “Hey,” he said cheerily, approaching the donkey. “What’s up chicken-butt?”
“Pfftt,” the donkey made an annoyed sound. “You’ve greeted me with that joke ever since you were a colt. How about something new, and maybe something not involving my butt?”
Cepheus put a hoof to his chin, thinking. “Well, you’re still an ass.”
They both laughed, and Cepheus put his wing around the good humored donkey. Chicken finally stopped laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh, Cepheus. I’m glad you’re still a colt in some ways. Ponies become boring when they become adults, but not you.”
Chicken handed him the basket, the containers within blasting heat. “Say hello to your mother and Persei for me.”
Cepheus took the handle of the basket into his mouth and nodded. The tablecloth, candles, and matches were stowed inside. He was ready.
He trotted away from Chicken’s hovel and instead of following the cobblestone path, he headed into the brush. The path he walked on was a secret passage that he had one day hacked out when he was a colt. It had served as an emergency escape route during one of his more dramatic pranks. Cepheus had eluded many angry adults using this path.
He still often used it, all the brush still trodden down and branches broken. Candle would have to use the long way around, and that would give him lots of time to set up the picnic.
Cepheus finally arrived at his super-secret awesomely romantic spot. He stood before a clearing surrounded by a thick circle of foliage and tall oak trees that would provide them with maximum privacy and seclusion. In the center of the clearing was a tranquil glen, and he set down the basket at its bank.
He set out the tablecloth, and set up two plates and the appropriate cutlery. He held the matches in his mouth, and using his dexterous wings, he held up the scratch pad and rubbed it against the matches. They all caught fire, and he bent down over every candle, lighting them all quickly before he began to feel the matches burn his muzzle.
Cepheus spat out the nearly spent matches, and stomped his hoof over them. He had been careful, but he had still burned his lips. That’s why Persei always lit the matches. That pyromaniac unicorn was good at lighting things on fire. Not so much at putting them out. They had learned that the hard way, and that was the last time his sister had ever played a part in his pranks.
There. He had set down the last of the food, and the picnic was all ready. Now, all the eager young pegasus had to do was to wait for his date to show up.
He waited a while, watching the moon’s silver reflection upon the calm waters of the glen. The wind skimmed the surface of the water, creating tiny distortions in the water.
“Hello, Cepheus,” a mare addressed him.
He had been so intently watching the water that he hadn’t noticed Candle’s arrival. Cepheus stood up, rushed to her, and nuzzled her softly. “I’m glad you’re here, and I hope you’ve brought your appetite because…” Cepheus pointed both hoof and wing at all the food.
Candle was awed, and she grinned. She leaned in and nuzzled him affectionately, and his heart sang.
Cepheus sat her down and quickly moved to his side. “I hope you like it,” he said, watching her unpack two bowls of salad. “My pal Chef Chicken said you had admitted that you loved his food, but you never placed an order or ate there.”
Candle was visibly drooling as she unpacked the rest of the food: a platter of hay burgers, some of Chicken Noodle’s signature Chicken Noodle soup, and some Canterlot Strawberry Cheesecake for dessert. Her brown eyes beamed, surveying it all. “Yes, I do love his food,” she said, looking up at Cepheus. “But his food was rather expensive, and my family is too poor to afford it."
“Oh,” Cepheus whispered. He smiled. “Well, this will be an extra special treat then!”
Candle grinned at him, but he could detect a hint of sorrow in that lovely face. “Thank you,” she whispered. There was an awkward pause, and Cepheus wiggled uncomfortably. “Sooo,” she said, shoveling salad into her plate. “How’s your family? I know your mother has been ill of late.”
Cepheus nodded. “Yeah,” he scratched the back of his head with his wing. “She has a drug problem my sister and I are trying to deal with. Strangely, Persei hasn’t mentioned it at all lately. She used to be right on top of it, but now I think she’s taking a break to reconsider tactics.”
“Ah, my father used to be a drug addict too.” Candle looked towards the glen. “I wish I could have been as proactive as you two have been. Perhaps I could have saved him if I had acted earlier.”
Candle closed her eyes and took a bite of her salad. Cepheus swallowed. “I am sorry for your loss, but you cannot blame yourself. If my sister wasn’t such a control freak, and I mean that in the best way possible, I would have let it be as well. When Mother is high on the drugs, she actually seems happy. Relaxed. I thought she wasn’t hurting anyone with her habit, so why stop it?” Candle looked into his eyes, and he blinked. “But, Persei pointed it out to me that drifting night to night in some drug induced stupor is no way to live. Mother was a slave to her pills, and she didn’t even know it. She almost killed my brother over them a few days ago.”
“Really?” Candle’s eyes were wide. “She would kill to secure her next fix?”
Cepheus nodded gravely. “That’s what the drugs do to you. The addict mind’s top priority is to get high again. Nothing else matters. A mother will even risk the life of her foals to get some.” He shuddered. Drugs were a terrifying thing. “Poor Sirius,” he whispered. “My brother tried to take the pills by force, and she would have killed him if Persei wasn’t there.”
“How is he?” Candle said, concern in her eyes as she sipped from her soup bowl. “The poor stallion must be traumatized.”
Cepheus sighed. “My brother ran away right after she did it. He’s a pegasus so he really could be anywhere, and I am worried for him. But I’m sure he’ll return.”
He munched down on his salad, trying to not think about it. Candle seemed lost in thought, her bowl empty. “It’s so strange though. My father was as addicted to Angel Dust as your mother was to her pills, but murdering your own foal over it? I can’t help but feel that there may be more to your mother’s addiction than meets the eye.”
You have no idea. She had a very rough life, and Mother didn’t really consider Sirius to be her foal. But if Mother had been forced to choose between the drugs and the life of all three of her foals, what would she do? Cepheus wanted to say that of course she would choose her foals, but he couldn’t do it. The uncertainty terrified him.
He felt a hoof touching his, and blushed. He looked up and saw Candle staring him right in the eyes. The candlelight gleamed in her eyes, warming her face. She offered him a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re the stallion of the house.” Cepheus looked up at her. “I feel like you and your sister have become like parents to your Mother and brother. That is so admirable….”
She trailed off. Candle was looking at him intently, her brown eyes full of some kind of desire. Cepheus suddenly felt warm inside. A mare wants a stallion who can stabilize her life, Persei’s advice echoed in his head.
Cepheus had a wild impulse. He flattened his ears to his head, closed his eyes, puckered his lips, leaned forward, and hoped for the best. He felt like he had jumped off a cliff, and he was counting on her to catch him. There was a moment of empty space before he felt her warm lips pressing against his.
He felt like he had swallowed hot silver, and his veins ignited with warmth and light. Cepheus drew away, and opened his eyes. Candle was blushing prettily, looking shyly at him. “This was really nice,” she said, gesturing at the food. “We should definitely do this again sometime.”
Cepheus was too dazed to speak, but he didn’t want her to leave just yet. He rose to meet her, but then there was a loud burst in his ear. “Ack!” he cried out.
Candle groaned, and looked up at the sky. There had been a sonic boom of some sort, and now it looked like a meteor of some kind was streaking across the sky. It was getting bigger. It was then Cepheus noticed that it was headed right towards them. “Aw, hell,” he yelled, and instinctively jumped onto Candle, wrapping his wings around her, shielding her with his body.
There was a tremendous upheaval of an object hitting the ground, and his back was showered in caustic gravel and burning earth. Cepheus groaned as he was burned, and Candle was screaming.
The pain caused him to hold onto Candle tighter, not wanting to her to feel the agony he was feeling. The upheaval had subsided into silence, but Cepheus couldn’t move. He opened his eyes to see what had happened, but his eyesight was too blurry. He moved his wing, and gasped in pain. Each attempt at motion felt like he was tearing his skin, the smell of smoking feathers and burnt flesh filled the air.
Candle wriggled underneath him. “Cepheus, are you all right!?”
A sharp stab of pain caused him to gasp, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. She began to panic, and pried away his wings. Cepheus howled and he felt himself being lifted up. Candle had slung him over her back, and he felt her begin to trot with ease.
Through his blurry vision, he looked at her face. Candle’s eyes were lit with determination, her mouth arched in a fierce snarl. It was strangely arousing. I want to have foals with you, he thought. This mare is tough as nails. He gasped in pain as she stumbled.
Cepheus looked around and saw the impact crater. The water in the glen had all become steam, and he heard a groan from within. Cepheus gasped, but Candle hadn’t heard it.
There was another groan, much louder and urgent. Candle turned around, and Cepheus’ vision was swiveled around and now he could only see the crater from his periphery. From the edge of the glen’s bank, a shimmering white hoof grappled with the loose dirt.
Candle and he watched in mute terror.
Another shimmering hoof appeared beside the other, and he could hear her grunting. What the hay? Cepheus thought. Is that a mare?
The white mare pulled herself up, and pushed herself onto the bank. Cepheus stared, amazed. She had a purple mane that glowed and swayed like flame. Her horn protruded from the lilac inferno, and her violet eyes blazed. The light from her radiant white skin faded, and he could see her cutie mark. It appeared to be a ball of fire, with a swaying purple line through it.
Cepheus felt as if he should flee, but he was transfixed. The mare saw the two ponies, and began moving towards them. She was limping, perhaps injured by her crash landing. The strange mare seemed exhausted, and collapsed. Candle sprang into action, and knelt down before her. “Are you okay?!”
The mare moaned in pain. “They’re coming,” she whispered.
Cepheus tilted his head so he could see better, and saw that the mare was bleeding. Candle cocked her head, frightened. “Who’s coming?”
“The Nightguard. They’ve suddenly gained an interest in the fringe colonies.” The mare picked herself up, her hooves trembling. “They’ve been raiding and burning, and I’ve managed to stay ahead, but…they’ll be here soon.”
Candle shook her head. “Nightmare Moon has never touched the colonies, because we were outcasts who were no threat to her. What happened so we are now in her sights?”
“I don’t know,” the mare coughed. “It’s as if they’re looking for something.”
Candle was in disbelief. “How do you know this? Who the hay are you?”
“My name is Ultra Violet,” she said weakly. She looked at him, surveying his burns. “That stallion needs medical attention. I can’t dare to hope that there is a doctor in this village?”
“Mother….” Cepheus groaned.
Candle nodded. “Yes, we have a doctor. We need to get to her right away.”
Ultra Violet nodded, her horn began to glow, and Cepheus gasped in pain as he was levitated with magic. They began to gallop to Mother’s hovel and he floated above Ultra Violet as they tore through the underbrush.
Before they even got close, Cepheus heard Persei’s panicked cries. The hovel came into sight, and he saw Persei outside, wailing.
Candle, Cepheus, and Ultra Violet rushed to her. Ultra Violet shook Persei, and she quickly grew silent. “Is there a doctor in there? This stallion is badly burned!”
Persei saw Cepheus floating aloft in Violet’s purple magical aura, and she began to cry again. “Cepheus!”
Candle put a hoof on Persei’s shoulder. “Get it together! Where’s your mother?”
Persei began to shake her head. “She won’t wake up!”
What? Cepheus thought. He was reminded of what he and Candle had talked about. Was it an overdose? Just the idea terrified him.
Persei collapsed, sobbing. “I don’t know what to do!”
They all rushed inside, and Violet laid Cepheus down on a bundle of blankets. Candle and Persei stared at Mother. Cepheus watched them in a dreamy stupor.
Mother was perspiring heavily, groaning, and kicking her hooves in distress. Was she having some kind of nightmare? Or was this some kind of symptom of an overdose?
Cepheus’ vision grew hazy, and the last few things he saw was Ultra Violet rifling through the cabinets, looking for something to treat his burns with. Persei was shaking Mother, and Candle stood by her side, both equally powerless to help Mother.