//------------------------------// // The Child's Call // Story: The Sum of Her Parts // by IsabellaAmoreSirenix //------------------------------// The former Princess Pupa, now newlywed Queen of the Crystal Empire, could have been said to be walking through the quickly rising snowbanks on the outskirts of her kingdom, only that would have been too nice a word. Her trembling forehooves dragged the rest of her aching body through the snow until every few inches she collapsed and lay broken while violent spasms ravaged her body for several agonizing minutes. Then, once she managed to haul herself upright once more, she almost instantly wanted to fall again as the icy wind screamed in her face. Her soft tresses of blue and lavender had fought themselves free of their braid, and now they wriggled around her head like a wreath of snakes. Her crown and regalia long forgotten, her flimsy, ripped dress of shimmering green silk fluttered open, exposing her skin to the snow that stung her with frostbites. Dark blue and purple splotches bloomed like a garland across her torso, now reduced to nothing more than flaps of cracked skin stretched on rods of bone as her chest heaved laboriously. Her lovely gossamer wings had bent in several places from the unforgiving wind, and it had even torn one out of its socket to scrape across the snow. Her voice had been lost from screaming hours ago, and now the only sound from her was a rasping cough that clawed its way out of her red raw throat. The few tears that hadn’t already been spent were frozen to her face like embedded pearls that rimmed her dark, sunken green eyes, looking out to the white wasteland that would be her grave. But even with all that pain and suffering, it could have been bearable if not for what was happening inside her. With one last gasp of exertion, Pupa’s legs suddenly crumpled beneath her. She gave a weak attempt to push herself upright, but other than an involuntary shiver, her body would no longer obey her. The queen closed her eyes in surrender. It was decided then. How could she be expected to overcome herself? The last spark of her determination faded; her own meager emotions had only been able to carry her so far. It was useless at this point to conserve heat, so she lay exposed on her back and looked up at the hordes of windigos all making a beeline straight for the Crystal Empire. Fear trickled like lead in her veins at the thought of her home turned into a wasteland, her precious ponies frozen in ice. Closing her eyes, she prayed that the shield she had created would still hold, if not by the Crystal Heart’s power, then Sombra’s… A jolt of electric pain shocked her heart, bringing her back to reality. Pupa barely restrained a whimper as she felt that toxic, black poison throb in her aching heart. It gushed out of her heart and began eroding the tissues inside to make room for more, more, more, eating her inside out, until it felt like there was nothing left but burning blackness. She felt it bubble in her bones like lava before it clawed its way to the surface. Her back arched as the poison diffused through her skin, turning her pearl white fur darker and darker as it took hold. It wasn’t fair. She had looked away for a full hour. The rules said she should have been free, but it was already too late. The poison had been in her system for too long, and now it was going to destroy her from the inside out. All she could do was sit and watch the poisonous acid burn away her skin and coat it with a slimy chitinous layer, bore holes into her legs, gloss over her translucent wings, erode her teeth into glistening fangs. And even still, as she lay on her deathbed, with all passion and vibrancy drained from her, the most sickened, diseased, and twisted part of her still yearned to turn and run back the miles she had wandered, run back to him… Time was meaningless, but Pupa lay there for hours, not moving an inch, fighting for her last shred of dignity. It didn’t matter if she didn’t move forward; as long as she didn’t go back, she had won against the curse. As the internal battle of wills raged on, the storm out in the rest of the world began to die down, and Pupa could see past the dense wall of flurries to a small cluster of straw huts, lit from within by brightly glowing lamps that were the most beautiful sight she could have asked for. Her eyes drank in the light greedily, even as it began to fade from her own eyes. Amidst an encroaching fog on her vision that had nothing to do with the snow, she thought she saw one light bob towards her. She might have heard a shout as well, but that didn’t matter. She just stared into that beautiful light as she tried not to cry. She had won a small victory against herself, but there was no hiding the fact that she had lost to the rest of the world. Her foolishness in marrying a mad tyrant had finally borne its fruits. The intrigue, foolishness, and fear had brought her down just when she thought she had it all. Even as the cold seeped into her body, when she remembered all those days of wondrous innocence and heartwarming love, all she could think was: It was never worth this. Then Pupa looked down at the white snow and saw only darkness. “What’s the report, Doctor?” “Not too good I’m afraid, Princess Platinum,” replied a brown unicorn donning a shabby, patchwork cloak in place of a medical coat. His profession was identifiable only by the red cross cutie mark that shone through the threadbare cloth as he stood over the patient. “She’s suffering from severe hypothermia and pneumonia, as well as starvation. She must have been walking in this blizzard for days on end; the journey’s left her nearly dead.” “Obviously,” Commander Hurricane commented, rolling his eyes. “What I’d like to know,” he continued as he pointed to Pupa’s recently added black chitin, “is what in the stars’ name caused that.” “Poison,” the doctor answered gravely, shaking his head sadly at the poor figure curled on the table. “A love poison, from what I can tell. It’s fermented over months of time inside her, growing stronger and stronger until now, when it’s taken her over completely.” “Is there any way to save her?” Chancellor Puddinghead piped up, looking over at the princess solemnly, her usually chipper disposition downtrodden by concern. “Even if I could, it wouldn’t be good for her. The poison has reached a point where it’s cursed her very heart. If she were to live, she would be driven by an addict’s desire to drain the love from others in a futile effort to sate the hole in her heart. But it can never be filled now, now that she’s looked away from her lover and the connection’s been broken.” A pregnant pause having filled the conference room as the heavy news sunk in, he added, “She only has a few hours left at best, and the medical wing is beyond full. If your business with the crystal princess is concluded, I would like to place her in the morgue if you so wish, Your Graces.” “Certainly,” Princess Platinum said with a polite nod of the head. “Thank you for your time, Doctor.” The stallion fell into a humble bow before ushering in two assistants who wrapped the body in linens and bore her away, leaving their leaders to brood in private. “We cannot allow this to continue,” the princess stated resolutely. “The state of Princess Pupa has confirmed our suspicions: the Crystal Empire has collapsed. The Crystal Heart’s magic has failed to protect it, and a corrupted magic has taken over in its place. We must take action at once.” “Agreed,” said the pegasus commander. “I’ll prepare the pegasi troops to mobilize within the afternoon. We’ll send out some scouts, then work out a strategy while we fly, and save those crystal ponies within a week’s time.” “I was going to suggest sending a diplomatic party,” the unicorn said with a toss of her mane. “Yes, because I’m sure whatever thing cursed Princess Pupa is capable of negotiation.” “And I am equally sure that it would overlook a whole army of pegasi and not try to curse them, nor hold the surviving crystal ponies hostage,” Platinum deadpanned. “You’re assuming it is capable of strategy,” Hurricane retaliated. “You’re assuming its weakness. This foe most likely has a vast arsenal of dark magic—“ “—and of course no measly pegasi army could stand up to magic, because magic is the greatest force ever, blah blah blah,” the commander said before giving a loud snort. “How typical of a unicorn to think.” “Well go ahead then, if you want to get your army killed. Maybe we can use your feathers to make some new coats,” she added darkly. “Watch your tongue, or I might saw off your horn, shove it down your throat, and have you cough up fireworks as a carnival attraction!” “Try me, you stubborn, big-headed, egotistical son of a—!” “Would you two quit it already?!” The two leaders froze and looked down the table at Chancellor Puddinghead, wearing a rarely seen pout and glaring at them with often seen aggravation. “Are we really going to do this again?” she demanded, her voice ever so slightly wavering. “Call each other names, fight against ourselves instead of the real problem, ruin my chance to get reelected? I’m tired of that, you know. I thought the windigos taught us better than this.” The others’ expressions softened as they watched her bright blue eyes start to water, only to then change to terror as her poofy hair began to deflate. “Oh, of course,” Commander Hurricane sympathized as he inched his chair back, “you’re absolutely right; we’ve been acting horribly, haven’t we?” He chuckled nervously. “How about some love and friendship—“ “Which is why I suggest we send out an earth pony scouting team!” Puddinghead said, her hair returning to its natural bubbly state. Hurricane facehoofed. Platinum turned away and sighed. “We… we can’t go on like this,” she whispered. “What was that?” Puddinghead asked cheerfully. “We can’t go on like this,” she repeated, her eyes downcast sadly. “We can’t keep Equestria united, not when we can’t unite ourselves. It’s better than before, yes, but it’s not enough. The ponies still hold grudges like we do, and there’s distrust everywhere. Harmony is only on the surface, a façade we hold in public to hide the tensions underneath. But that’s starting to crack too. It won’t be long before discord consumes all of Equestria, and we’ll be worse off than before.” The meeting room fell silent as the words rang dully through the chilled air. “So what should we do?” Puddinghead asked in a voice like that of a child, lost and vulnerable. “With me childless, I suppose Clover will be next in line for the unicorn crown,” Platinum replied somberly, slouching in her chair as the words drained her energy. “Perhaps the monarchy will be dissolved after her; I do not know. All I know is that I am not fit to partake in it.” Hurricane’s eyes widened into the first expression that the other leaders had ever seen of him being taken by surprise. He waited a full beat before his hoof collided with the table to punctuate his saying, “That’s a load of nonsense, even from you. Don’t tell me you’re going to abdicate that easily! Because you snapped and had one argument?!” “One in the line of many.” “Come now, so maybe you’re not perfect, but you’re somewhat competent, and you obviously understand your weaknesses. What happens after Clover? Her daughter? They can’t solve your problem because they’re unicorns, will think in the same way you do, and so will all those that come after them.” “Well, what else do you intend me to do?” she demanded. “I’m sick and tired of this! You two do what you want with the Crystal Empire. Do what you want with Equestria. I’ll do what I want with my life.” Then she lifted the unicorn crown off her head, glanced at it with a look of disgust, and disdainfully tossed it onto the table, where it spun drunkenly before crashing to the floor. Hurricane and Puddinghead stared at the crown so intently that neither of them noticed Platinum leave the meetinghouse. They just watched the sunlight dully glint off the varnished metal spokes as they stewed in a silence that was so unrepresentative of their reeling thoughts. “That mare’s crazy,” he declared, standing up suddenly. “It’s not her that’s the problem; it’s this whole blasted Council we’re attempting. But what are we supposed to do about that? We can’t have a monarchy without neglecting two races.” He glanced at the silent earth pony chancellor before slamming his helmet onto the table. “Here,” he said. “You make a monarchy. Your tribe always seemed to have the most common sense during the blizzard. Hopefully that’ll be enough to balance us out.” And with a flap of his wings, it was finally Chancellor Puddinghead alone. Her soft blue eyes regarded the fallen relics of power like gravestones of forgotten friends. Then she gently placed her hat beside them like a wreath of roses to commemorate the dissolved council. “At least we tried,” she whispered sadly. The screech of her sliding chair echoed in the silence of the grave. Her heavy heart weighed down her hooves as she walked across the endless expanse of the meeting hall. She stopped at the door and flung it open, revealing the smiling sun overhead, its jubilant light contrasting with Puddinghead’s mournful face. “Why do they not understand?” she asked herself and the world. “It’s not about balance. It’s about harmony.” It was spring now, the first spring after the windigo blizzard had ravaged the land. The courtyard’s trees were adorned with white and pink blossoms that fell like a better, gentler snow on the former leaders gathered there. The petals fluttered on the breeze that lifted them above the branches to greet the sun, only to fall one by one onto the brick tiles, stopping just before they reached the cave entrance. It was here in this cave, hidden entirely from the cheerful light of day, that the Tree of Harmony made its home. Had the sun been smiling down on it, its crystalline bark would have fractured into a million rainbow fragments, shimmering as the fragile branches of the newborn tree reached up to grasp empty air while searching for the mother sun. Now, however, it emitted a soft glow that illuminated the grim faces of the ponies with a mysterious blue aura. It highlighted the creased lines of the commander’s forehead as he stood lost in thought, and the lines sagging around Princess Platinum’s somber eyes as she relayed the tale to Clover the Clever. The young mage’s tightly pursed lips were accented in the same blue light as her eyes bugged out in horror. The sunlight mixed with it to caress like a worried mother the furrowed brow of Clover’s only daughter, Dusk Melody, whose head swiveled back and forth between her ruler and her mother, trying to make sense of the conversation. With slow, measured steps, Puddinghead grew close enough to hear Clover say, “…can’t just abdicate! Equestria needs you, all of you! Even if it’s difficult to compromise sometimes, the council can still work!” Platinum sighed, her eyes flashing a silver that was too old for one her age. “I hope there may come a day when Equestria is ready to take on a more democratic government, but that is not today. As it stands, the council is too weak, not centralized enough. Dark times are approaching, and we can’t have a government that can’t agree on anything. We must be a united state, not three tribes stepping on each other’s hooves as we try to fulfill a treaty.” “But think of what it took to get ponies to accept the council in the first place!” Clover pleaded. “You can’t just unravel all that work! Ponies’ hearts can change, so please, Princess—“ “No,” Platinum ordered morosely. “There is no Princess of Equestria.” “If there is a vacancy in power, who knows what kind of tyrant or oppressor could take over? Please, at least consider staying until we can transition to a better mode of government.” Silence. Clover looked down sadly, used a curtain of mane to hide her eyes. When she looked up, they were filled with fire. “You can’t just hand the crown to me, Platinum,” she said fiercely. “I won’t do this without you.” Clover took a few steps into the cave. “Everfree Castle was built here for a reason. Remember what happened here? That was the first time that ponies of all kinds joined together in harmony. Like a seed, the fire of our friendship forged this tree, forged this country. Maybe it’s gotten to be too much to handle, and maybe resigning is for the best. Maybe a chancellor doesn’t know what to do after an election, maybe a commander doesn’t know how to perpetuate peace after a war, and maybe a princess doesn’t know how to handle a bureaucracy after a political upheaval, but you do know about Harmony. And I’m sure Cookie and Pansy would agree if they were here, that you can solve this together, even if you’ll be working together to depart from one another.” The princess opened her mouth to protest when Hurricane placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder and said, “Trust her, Platinum. She’s not rash like us, calling doomsday on every meeting gone awry. It’ll be hard, but with patience, we’ll figure something out.” At this, Platinum gave a small smile and said something, but Puddinghead, observing from afar, had stopped paying attention. Instead, her keen eyes were focused on a young filly walking into the cave. Unflinching against the dank cavern, her steps were sure with purpose, her head tilted upward with the poise of princess as she approached the Tree of Harmony. Though she did not understand the filly’s intent, the curious chancellor looked on respectfully in silence, a silence only broken by the panicked cry— “Dusk Melody!” Clover shouted her daughter’s name, but she was already too far away to hear. Puddinghead’s bright blue eyes flashed as she saw the filly kneel at the base of the tree and close her eyes. Her lips mouthed words too faint for her ears, but the single tear that rolled down her cheek made their intent clear. Pudding was about to call out to the other leaders, but this was rendered unnecessary when a mighty crack like lightning drew everypony’s attention to the cave. On the highest branch, a spark of swirling red and pink light, the very same light from the Hearth’s Warming fire, crowned the crystalline tree. Like a newborn star, it rapidly grew in strength, becoming brighter and brighter until it rivaled the sun itself. Clover attempted to run to Dusk, but a howling wind charged with magic held her back. It stung in her eyes, burning away the tears with the same relentless scalding that assaulted her throat, raw from trying to scream over the wind. Fear beat in her chest like a second heart. Meanwhile, Dusk herself remained unafraid. She stood up tall and stretched out her forelegs wide, as if to embrace the cosmic powers summoned at her will. Then there was a loud cry, terrible and beautiful, infused with the primitive rawness found in all living beings from birth. But like the highest, glass-shattering note in a melody, it also marked the spell’s climax, its apex before tumbling into a quiet like death. As its last strands reverberated in the air, the light faded, the wind subsided, and the little filly stood alone in the center of the calm. For a second, there was naught but silence. “Dusk,” Clover breathed, her faint voice echoing into all of history. “What did you do?” Dusk pivoted around to face her mother. The dying wind sent her pink hair fluttering around her head, where the red light circled around her brow in a bloody halo, the same light reflected on the edges of her golden eyes. And for that split second, Pudding had no doubt that those eyes, those gems of a goddess, could see straight into Clover’s soul. “You were in trouble,” she said plainly. “So I asked for help.” No sooner had the words slipped into the open air then the earth trembled violently beneath their hooves. A wave of life-giving energy radiated in a white pulsating glow throughout the castle and the surrounding area. Meanwhile, the red and pink ball of light quivered and split like a seed into two, with the red half falling to the ground, trailing sparks of fire. The pink half remained floating in midair, spinning into a blur that molded into a flowerbud, which then bloomed to reveal its shimmering coral petals. From this flower, there burst forth two divine creatures of light. On one side sprang a mare with fur as radiant as the white clouds in the sky and a flowing mane as fair as the maiden blush of sunrise. On the other side leapt her twin, donning fur of the calmest sea and a mane kissed with the inky hues of dusk. Their horns were lit with a brilliant light that illuminated the ponies’ awestruck expressions, which only filled with more wonder as the creatures unfurled their majestic wings. Spreading them out wide, the pristine feathers caught hold of the wind as they glided slowly down from the tree. Their movements were perfect, graceful, and when their delicate hooves landed on unhallowed earth, there was not a sound. At once, their nearly blinding glow dimmed to a soft aura of warmth and comfort. Then tentatively, in a manner that for anypony else would be seen as uncertain, the two creatures took slow, measured steps towards Dusk Melody, with the white one slightly leading. Their eyes were strange, unreadable, as they paid no attention to all the other ponies held spellbound by their presence. Princess Platinum found it hard to breathe as she watched the approaching alicorns. Their grace, she marveled, their beauty. They way they walk, as if they were floating on air. There’s a certain poise to them, their heads held high as if they ruled the world, but their movements are simple, humble, too. They look like princesses. They stopped just inches in front of Dusk, slackjawed in silent wonder. The rest eyed them cautiously, not sure whether to stare or prepare to fight the newcomers. Their muscles tensed as the white alicorn spread her wings to their proudest height, but the smile that shortly followed caused a collective sigh. “What do you require of us, child?” she asked with a siren’s voice. Nopony knew how to answer. Nopony except Puddinghead, who confidently strode up to the two celestial beings. She wore the widest grin as she beamed up at the alicorns who would be their salvation. “We need you to bring order.” Nopony noticed the draconequus slither around the base of the tree and slink into the shadows.