Velvet Sparkle and the Queen in Stone

by Tundara


Part Eight

Velvet Sparkle and the Queen in Stone
By Tundara

Part Eight


I was tossed back into that hole a hollow, empty, broken pony.

Numb.

So numb.

The beating the dogs administered was hardly felt. Not when they cracked my ribs. Not when they broke my legs. And not when they left me there, sprawled across the moldy straw and dirt so far from Sol’s comforting light.

All I could see were Juniper’s final moments, flashing over and over behind my swollen eyes.

The pleading, those terrible, echoing, pleas were the worst, dragging like claws across my bare soul.

They repeated endlessly, until something cracked inside of me. It’s an odd feeling, to know the moment you change, to look back on the instant before and be able to say, ‘I am not that pony anymore. She is dead, and the pony in her place is something else.’

For me, when I woke up, sputtering and coughing blood, the realization was just how naive and deluded I had been. I’d been a fool, over-confident, and proud. So proud. The pony that pulled herself up on weak, aching hooves, barely managing to lean against the corner where stone met iron bars, was not a good pony, nor was she a good Halla.

Waiting for me was Sombra, eager to prey on my weakness and doubt.  

“So… The sapling is dead.” He sat in his corner, face as hard as my heart. “And you have gone far down a terrible path.”

“You said there was a way to make others pay the cost of the Dark runes.” My teeth ground together until my jaw ached. “Show me.”

Sombra neither smiled nor frowned. He just gave a slight inclination of his head.  

“No.” Sauntering across the cell he came to me and brushed back my mane. “You are not ready to use them. They leave a hole when so recklessly used, as you did in that arena.”

I tried to stand, tottering on my hooves in the process, a snarled response at the ready, but was overcome by a wave of dizziness. “How… How could you possibly—”

“There is no need for such hostility, little pony. Especially in your condition.” Sombra was by me at once and steadied me before I could fall. “I will heal you, and give you a long-overdue lecture.”

“Don’t need your advice,” I slurred, crumpling against his chest, face bumping against crystal.  

A chuckle from Sombra made my head throb and spin faster.

“Well, you will get my sage advice regardless.” He helped me lay down, taking care as he brushed back my mane. “The Dark Runes deal in trades. While the most common is a bit of your essence for their power, there are many others they will gladly accept.” His hoof trailed down my bruised and swollen face, taking in the curve of my jaw and snaked behind my neck. “Like zebran merchants, they are conniving, but will accept any deal. By sacrificing their speed, you can force them into more beneficial arrangements.” Leaning in, he placed his lips on mine, mouth parting ever so slightly as—

On the far side of the door, with ears pressed to the varnished wood, sat the remainder of the young Sparkles. In ones and twos, they’d slipped away from Glitterdust and snuck off to hear more of their mother’s story. Even Two-Step was present, standing above his younger siblings with a broken air of reserved disapproval for the benefit of any pony who came across the group.

It was a wasted effort. Two-Step was not the most talented pony at hiding his guilt for snooping. The slight glow of magic around his horn and ears didn’t help.

Fortunately, it was not one of the servants, nor the Crystal Guards that came across the young lords and ladies, but their remaining sister.

Star Sparkle, on her way back from the library with a stack of books that would have made Twilight proud, stood at the landing to the floor, peering at her brothers and sisters with mingled confusion and exasperation.

“What are you doing?” She demanded in a nasal, imperious squeak, her voice cracking a little. “Mother would not—”

“Mother is telling Shiny and Pen off for duelling, and our niece a story.” This came from Limelight, her eyes scrunched up as she tried to listen.

“Niece?” A low snort was followed by the clomp of Star dropping her books in a neat stack at her side. “Tyr is not part of our herd. She…” Biting her tongue to avoid saying her feelings, Star half turned away. When none of her sisters or brother paid her little outburst any attention, she slid a few steps closer. “So… this story… what’s it about?”

The response was slow, and, when it came, it carried an off-hoof dismissal. “Oh, about mother’s missing years. Nothing you’d be interested in, I’m sure.”

“No, I’m interested!” Star protested, pushing up against Melody to get at the door. When she did, Star noticed that the voices beyond were strangely warbling and indecipherable. Raising a brow, she looked the door over, twice, before declaring, “She’s warded it.”

“Well, duh!” Elegant rolled her eyes while Melody mimicked Star in a drawn out, cruel sneer.

A harsh hiss from Two-Step was followed by, “Hush, you three, I’m trying to decipher what’s going on.”

“It’s a wasted effort, Twoey.” Limelight threw up her hooves, almost unseating Spike in the process. Twisting his claws in her mane to keep from being unseated, he gave a sharp oath that was ignored by his adoptive siblings.

A grin began to form on Star’s face, her eyes dancing with excitement. “Let me look.”

Star gave her hooves a greedy rub as her siblings at last cleared a small space.

Before anything else, Star cast a spell to see the traces of magic making up the ward. What appeared almost made her collect her books and leave. A simple question kept Star planted in front of the door; what would Twilight do?

Twilight loved a challenge, especially one involving magic. She’d never turn away from testing her abilities.

The lines were all soft and rounded, forming interlacing circles. At the heart of each circle sat a rune, many overlapping so that it was difficult to tell where one began and another ended, or just which runes had been used. At least those along the outer edges were clear. Star’s instincts told her they formed the ‘cap’ to the glyph. She wasn’t certain, however, the way they were bonded to those overlapping in the centre gave her pause.

Star had been aware that Velvet was a powerful caster, but the intricacy of the glyph before her shone a new light on just how much skill the matron truly possessed. Half the professors at Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns wouldn’t have been able to put together such a glyph. There was a brief moment where Star wondered if even Archmage Star Shimmer would know how to counter the ward’s effects.

Shaking her head to dislodge the doubt, Star repeated what the Archmage and Celestia herself often said; every spell had a counter.

“Well?” Melody pressed. “Can you dispel it?”

“I… don’t think so,” Star gulped after the admission. “But I may be able to create a hole for Two-Step to listen through.”  
 
With a steadying breath and encouraging nods from her siblings, Star reached out with her magic.

She had to be careful. The layers of protection and defence against tampering were daunting, feeding into each other over and over. If the ward had been created by any other, Star would have stopped, but there was one fact as great as the glyphs complexity that she could not overlook: Velvet Sparkle would never, ever, put a spell in the manor that could harm her family.

Closing one eye in anticipation of her magic being rebounded, Star made a tiny, minute adjustment to Ber, a rune often used in silencing spells. She hoped it was the rune preventing Velvet’s story from leaving the room. It had many other uses, such as support, protection, and creation, making it useful in both the base and core of a spell. Star prayed her intuition was correct, and that Velvet was using it as a core.

The glyph glowed hot at her touch, and for a heartbeat, Star thought she’d erred. Then it settled. There was no cataclysmic backlash or sundering, the door had not burst into flames, nor Star’s horn cracked by a sudden jolt.

A relieved breath whooshed from Star as she turned to her siblings, chest puffed out and head held at a sharp inclination.

“See, told you I could…”

Her voice trailed off as the door was yanked open, a visibly upset Velvet towering on the other side.

At once, blame began to fly about like a flock of geese trapped in a pillow factory. It was their fault. All Star’s idea. Pushed us aside. We tried to stop her, mama. And many other excuses and justifications emerged, none of which saw a response.

Face as wild as a thunderstorm, Velvet inspected the glyph, all the excuses ignored.

“You did this, Star?” The cold fury in Velvet’s voice pressed down even Limelight and Two-Step, both nominally adults.

“Y-Yes, mother,” Star’s knees knocked together as she took a half-step forward, head bowed in submission to the inevitable punishment. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Velvet turned the word over as if it were some new and intriguing concept, one never before uttered by ponykind. “Whatever for, darling? This is brilliant. But you should have attacked Pol instead.”

Velvet pointed to one of the outer runes.

“Pol? I’d never seen it before, and didn’t know what would happen.”

“Prudent,” Velvet nodded. “You have to be very careful, after all, when dealing with strange and new magic…” Velvet’s voice trailed off, a distance falling over her features as she became lost in memory. Shaking it off, she again pointed to Pol. “If you’d applied pressure right here, and twisted like so…”

Star watched in awe as Velvet applied a sharp jab to Pol and rotated the rune counter-clockwise. At once the entire glyph sprung into action, livid aether streaming through the bound lines. Rune after rune began to convulse and pop, creating a ripple of small bursts until the entire glyph was consumed and all that remained were a few freckled motes that marked where the runes had been.

“The professors said—”

“I know what they would have taught you, Star.” Velvet indicated with a wave of her hoof for the small herd of young Sparkles to follow her into the room.  
 
Inside they found everything much as expected, with Shining and Pennant sitting across from each other, the withering gaze occasionally passing from one to the other. Tyr had her head pressed up against Cadence’s side, eyes fluttering as she attempted to hold back falling asleep.

Cushions and chairs were taken one by one as the young Sparkles spread out around the room. Melody and Elegant, as the youngest fillies present, naturally claimed either side of Velvet, while Star elected to sit primly next to Whisper.

After filling them in on the important events of her story, Velvet took a deep breath.

“Some wounds, the worst wounds, you can’t see them.” Velvet worked her jaw, gaze fixed out the window and on the memorial stone. “They change us. Make us… they… Where the story goes next, children, I hope you will not think less of me for what I did, for, you see,” Velvet turned just enough that the young Sparkles could see lingering regrets shifting like storm blown sands behind her eyes, “I was not a good pony.”

Sombra’s method of teaching was unconventional to say the least.

The kiss he gave me was merely part of a spell, one where he took upon himself all the accumulated injuries and pains of my body. As a kirin he was far sturdier than any pony, his draconian heritage laughing at the comparatively pitiful wounds I’d sustained.

Steadying himself, he leaned against the bars as he took a slow, fortifying breath. I could see the strain in his eyes caused by his spell, his movements precise and cautious.

“Are you well?” He asked, the question turning into a pained hiss.

I nodded slowly, too shocked by the speed of the healing to form a proper response. I had seen, and even learned a few healing spells from my time among the Wolves. Fawns are as prone to hurting themselves doing silly things as any other child, and knowledge of restorative magic is common among the Halla. But nothing they practiced could completely remove all signs of injury, especially those as severe as I’d suffered, more so in with such speed.

“Good.” He coughed, spitting away some blood that came to his mouth. “Then let us begin our lessons.” Sombra began to pace, watching me with a cold, discerning eye. “I will teach as the Landcasters of old once did, by showing you. Do as I do. Weave as I weave. If you truly have some talent at magic, perhaps you will not end up some soulless husk bent on ruination. Understand?”

Before I could so much as shake my head, Sombra continued.

“By not being constrained to the limits of my body. I have… I’m getting to it, Moondream. Of course I know she… The inhibitor isn’t an… Would you let me...” Sombra’s muzzle crinkled with disdain, his head rolling up so he could peer at some point far overhead. “Very well, Moondream.”

“You’re insane,” I stated, backing away from Sombra.

He merely shrugged. “You hardly need tell me that.” Pointing once more at the bars, he resumed his explanation. “Moondream reminds me, though I hardly needed it, that as a neophyte in the arts you can not overcome your inhibitor without assistance. If you wish to escape this place, you will need to learn how to overcome such a limitation.”  

I felt a smile, dark and gleeful, take shape.

“You will need a secondary focus. Something that is of you, and is not. It can be a spirit, like with the zebran shamans, or some object, as I have done. For you a spirit will be easier.”

“A spirit?” I crinkled my nose in distaste.

During my lessons among the Ravens, and from Father before that, I’d heard of the shamans, and their connections to the spirits, and how through them they could work their magic. I’d also been taught it was a form of magic beneath a unicorn, or halla. We didn’t need to make deals or form bonds with spirits to perform our wondrous feats.

Not noticing my disgust, or not caring, Sombra continued, pacing along the bars. “Yes, a spirit. Hemmravn, Ursta, or a Vetfrir all make sense, given your connections to the Raven, Bear, and Wolf lodges. You could also call an imp, though bargains with the demons never go well. Trust me on this. I have a great deal of experience dealing with the demonic ladies and lords.”

“Demons? Really?” Incredulity laced my voice, my eyes rolling.

A flicker of amusement answered my doubt. “What of Algol, the Demon Star? And what of the runes you so recklessly use?”

“Algol was no demon. Though she certainly looked and smelled like one.” I huffed and sat back to cross my hooves. Like Shining, in my naivete I exclaimed, “Demons are just stories.”

“Leviathan, Hetatin, Witiko, Moloch, Tirak, Amon, and Crechus; they are not just names in the holy books. They exist, out there somewhere in the realms, plotting, waiting, hoping some foolish little colt or filly will attempt to summon them and they can began their vile trades once again. I have faced such monsters before, be thankful that you will not.” Sombra’s face flushed with a sharp fury, then, as quickly as it came, he calmed. “Their offers are far more tempting by design than those of the Archons. Even those of the Dominion’s choirs, ruled by She Who Destroys With Righteous Fire, are paltry in comparison.

“Which is why you need to learn to control the Dark Runes.”    

I was silent for some time, mulling the names he’d given over. Little tremors worked their way along my spine as I contemplated them, one by one, and what little I could remember from my Solday lessons as a little filly. Filing the names away, I found myself focusing on what he’d said just after bringing up the spirits.

“Did you say it can be an object?” I had to work to keep my grin from growing, so as not to tempt fate.

“I did, but the process—”

“What if I am already bonded to an object? A sword, to be precise.”

Sombra tilted his head, stopping his pacing. His answer, when it came, was slow and considered.

“If you were bonded to a sword, all you would need do is concentrate on it and call to it.” Sombra was about to add more, but snapped his mouth shut with a grunt, his ear flicking as Moondream spoke to him.

I didn’t pay attention as he started to argue with the voice in his head, more concerned with what he’d just told me. Clamping my eyes shut, I did as he’d instructed, and though I won't say it was instantaneous, nor that I didn’t grow frustrated when she failed to appear the first while, after some practice and advice from Sombra, I discovered the connection between me and Llallawynn.

That pulsing thread of magic, seeming so thin and insignificant when surrounded by a sea of runes, it sang such a sweet tune when I caressed it, like a goldfinch in spring. Grabbing it, I tried to pull, but the thread refused me.

“The bond is not some rope that can be tugged,” Sombra admonished, rising over me. “But an instrument to be played. Magic is math and art in tandem and motion, like music. Form the equation in your heart and let it resonate across the disc in sweet melodies, or ferocious thunder. With the right tune, she’ll hear it and come.”

I almost asked what tune to use, but clamped my muzzle shut fearing further rebuffing. The answer would be simple, otherwise he’d have told me.

So I did the most logical thing, and began to repeat the song emitted by the thread, using runes as the notes without channeling magic. The song shifted, a query flowing along the thread, hesitant at first, then bold and happy. I answered at once, a little flair of my own added into the reply. A surge made the song rise into a grand, rapturous finale.

Llallawynn leapt eagerly to my summon, landing with blade sinking into the straw and stone before me, a wave of jubilation washing over me like a tide as the song drifted away.

“I can imagine,” Cadence said, a wistful smile touching her lips, like she were thinking back on her first kiss. “The first time Penumbra answered my call… It was like nothing else.” She giggled, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Celestia sneaks down to the armoury once a month to talk to Coronal Edge. First Solday each month, without fail. And Luna, she has old Tamashi above her mantle. Every Monday she goes to Moonstone Castle to spar with the recruits for the Royal Guard.”

“She does?” The question came from several places, loudest from Shining, his brow lifted up into his cobalt mane. In a lower grumble, once his surprise had faded, Shining added, “I should have been told. There were no reports…”

“Darling, you’re pouting.” Cadence flicked out a wing to give Shining a playful thump across his withers. “Besides, Luna and Tamashi enjoy sparing. They are more than weapons, they are companions, with… not exactly souls, per se, by will and hopes of their own. Our weapons, though I hate referring to Penumbra as such, are more like spirits.”

Brushing off Cadence’s wing, Shining’s pout only grew deeper. He ignored the rest of the Sparkles as if they were only a painting of his family, one verging on a fit of giggles or rolled eyes. Shining crossed his hooves and huffed.

“Not that you ever take care of Penumbra.”

His words had an immediate effect, Cadence snapping her head back and wings out. Lips pressed into a stern line and eyes narrowed, Cadence gave no immediate reply. Velvet winced in sympathy for her son, but not too much. She’d have chewed a pony’s head off for making a similar remark about Lllallawynn.  

Velvet’s hoof twitched, a deep ache pinching her heart as she thought of Llallawynn so far away.
 
“You said Llallawynn is a star-blade? Forged from the heart of a fallen star? Or did I mix that up with some other story…” Melody tapped her chin, then shook her head as she dismissed the idea.

Into the gap, Elegant asked, “Can you still feel her? Llallawynn, I mean.”

“Sometimes.” The twitch moved to Velvet’s face. “She’s connected to me and all of my bloodline. Shining should hear her.”

All eyes turned to Shining, who sat defiant against the scrutiny.

Crinkling his muzzle as his little sisters began to giggle, Shining darted a look to Velvet. She had a mischievous lilt to her voice as she said, “A pegasus, deary. Strong and beautiful in that pre-classical, shield-maiden way, and wearing barding.”

He scrunched his brow further together, then his eyes widened, and he gasped. “Oh… Oh!”
        
“Love, there isn’t something you want to tell me, is there?” Cadence gave Shining a knowing leer, a mischievous sparkle seeming to make her glow.

“I… uhm.”

Playful tone growing, Velvet leaned a little closer to her son, and in a loud whisper asked, “So, you have seen her, then?”

The way his youngest sisters leaned closer, the mirth forming in the corner of Limelight’s mouth, and the way Pennant smirked all told Shining that there was no escape. Then there were his mothers and Cadence, all four looking like hawks about to swoop down on a field mouse.

He let out a short grunt of defeat.

“Thirteenth and… Eighteenth dreams, I think?” Shining rubbed his chin as he squinted his eyes and tried to remember. “I’d have to check my dream journal to know for sure. She was kind of cute, I guess.”  

“Really? ‘Kind of cute’?” There was an odd note to Cadence’s voice that made Velvet sit up straighter. If Velvet hadn’t known better, she’d have thought there was a hint of jealousy in the princess’ tone. “Well, she is bound to Sparkles, so it makes sense.”

“Awww, why haven’t we ever seen this star-sword-spirit-mare?” Melody and Elegant bemoaned together.

“Because she’s bound to the Sparkle bloodline, dummies.” This came from Tyr, cracking a sleep encrusted, red rimmed eye open to peer at her ‘aunts’. “And you are no more Sparkles than I am Invictus.”

Puffing up their faces, the twins cried out, “We too are Sparkles!”  

“In name only.”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Fillies, settle down.” Velvet, Whisper, Cadence, and Shining all snapped at the same time. While Cadence admonished Tyr, Velvet and Whisper dealt with the twins. Stern looks of disappointment and anger were leveled, the fillies all made to mutter half-hearted apologies. To prevent a renewal of arguing, Velvet returned to the story.

Even with Llallawynn returned, I still could not muster my magic. Not to form a spell, nor to even lift Llallawynn. So I resorted to drawing her with my mouth, holding her hilt firmly between my teeth, tongue playing along the aged leather.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Sombra grumbled as he took Llallawynn and helped me strap her across my back, using a rolled up scrap of rag as a temporary sheath.  “Now, do you know any of these spells?”

He listed such things as changing one’s shape to turning invisible; none of which I knew. He moved on to glamours and sleeping spells, some of which I did know, but he dismissed as impractical for our purposes.

“Then why bring them up?” I demanded, stomping a hoof.

He showed off his long fangs, a laugh rumbling deep in his chest. “Because, I was curious. We’d long since left behind the useful for a stealthy escape.” Raising a hoof, he declared, “Besides, it doesn’t matter, as I was waiting for…” He lifted an ear, clicking his tongue like a clock. “Her.”

I almost jumped out of my skin as a door banged open near the end of the passageway. Cautious hooves echoed along the walls, a voice calling out, “Velvet? Sombra? Please tell me you’re in this one.”

“Sylph?” I gaped like a fish, pressing my face to the bars to get a look towards the exit, spotting a cloaked figure moving slowly towards us.

Relief flashed across Sylphs face when she heard my voice and spotted me, hurrying past the empty cells to reach mine. Keys rattled, drifting from beneath Sylph’s cloak to the lock.

“I don’t understand,” I hissed, watching the way Sylph had come for any guards. “How did you get down here?”

“Diamond Dogs are… well, easily manipulated,” Sylph put on a cheeky grin, one that turned sour as she tried the last key, and it failed to release the lock. “Blast it,” she cursed, thrusting the keys back beneath her cloak, and extracting a collection of picks and burglers tools.

“They just let you wander down here?” My mouth hung open, an incredulous snap making my voice seem far too loud.

Twisting and jiggling the lockpicks, Sylph stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth.

“Well, some. Those who are low ranks. Boast I am the king’s bard, show off the mark he gave me,” at this point Sylph twisted her head to show a fresh brand on her ear, the fur burnt away and puckered scar tissue forming.

My hooves flew up to my mouth to hold back a strangled gasp.

Sylph winced, trying to hold the ear very still so as to not disturb the burn.

“What of Growler? Where is he?”

There was a moment of hesitation. “We were separated during the collapse. Growler, he has the shears, though, so I imagine he’s making his way to meet with the Triplets.”

Suspicions swirled, fueled by the hitch in her voice at his name. Images of what could have happened flashed through my mind. He could have been crushed, or killed by the draugen, or by the dogs. The mere idea of the dogs having taken my Growler from me as well sent a surge of hot, bubbling anger through my chest.

“Did you bring the crystal?” This came from Sombra, joining me at the door to our cell.

Not looking up at Sombra as she snapped one of her picks, Sylph said in a low huff, “No, the king gave it to Prince Selim. A gift for ‘taking care of the Sorceress’.”

Sombra was quiet as he mulled over the answer. His tail snapped with irritation a couple times as the minutes ticked past until Sylph gave a triumphant squeak. The lock snapped open with a harsh click. We all held our breaths as we pulled the gate open, the hinges squealing in protest.

No guards appeared.

“We must retrieve the crystal,” Sombra declared as we began to leave the cell and tip-hoofed towards the exit. “Moondream’s lust has already begun to stir. If it gains a hoofhold in a city such as this... ” He didn’t elaborate on what would happen, letting the silence carry the weight of dread.

Aware that the stone held a power, though still ignorant of the nature of the power, I nodded agreement. “We need to find the prince.”

“Are you two mad?” Sylph snapped, pressing herself against the wall by the cellblock exit. She peaked around the corner with a mirror before stepping out. “We’ll be lucky to make it out of here alive, let alone enter the palace, reach the prince’s chambers, and retrieve some stone.”    

“It is not just a stone,” Sombra replied, trotting unconcerned down the passage, “but a receptacle for all the hunger and drive for power once flowing through a goddess-filly. She will whisper in the Prince’s ear such sweet promises. Glories that should be his, all the north, nay, the disc his to conquer. What he did in the arena, he will do to entire cities.”

Her face falling, Sylph looked away.

“That… was terrible, what Prince Selim did to the dryad. But, you can’t retrieve the stone if you’re dead. We need to get out of here. Once they realise I’ve left the palace…”

Shoving open the next door, one that opened into a large staging area, Sombra just smirked.

“We shall create a diversion, naturally.” He stopped a few lengths too late as another door to the room opened. A pair of guards, either on patrol or heading to their post, stepped into the room, talking in their peculiar halting dialect.

For an interminable second we stood staring at each other. Letting out a howl, one dog charged while the other turned, bolting towards an alarm gong.

“Stop him,” Sombra ordered as he met the first dog’s charge.

Sylph and I moved at the same instant. While I was still hampered by my inhibitor, Sylph had not such limitation. Her daggers, these same ones I wear right now, darted out from her cloak, giving chase to the second dog. Halla do not have the range nor strength of a unicorn with their telekinesis, but it was hardly required as she threw the daggers. The first one clattered off the stone beside the dog, making him jump to the left and into the second dagger’s path. It caught him in the small of the back, sinking deep between a fold in his armour. Driven to his knees, the dog released a howl as I slammed into him.

We tumbled, kicking and clawing, coming to a sharp halt as we crashed into the warning gong. Unaware of it teetering above us, I pressed my hooves down on the dog’s throat. Had I a dragon’s claws or a dog’s paws I would have savoured the press of his fur and the desperate tremors as he struggled for breath.

A blow to my gut sent my breath out of me. Another sent me rolling, my back striking the gong’s base. He never saw it coming. The wet crunch rang in my ears far louder than the clang of brass on stone. Breath regained in short gasps, I struggled out from beneath the heavy legs of the gong’s stand. A glance showed me that the heavy disc of metal had come down across the dog’s belly, crushing his lower half.

He was in shock, eyes rolling, a howl lodged deep in his throat, unsure whether it should be a strangled mewl or a reverberating shriek. It never had a chance to be released as I returned my hooves to his neck. Though I knew he was dead regardless, I had to be the one to press the life out of him. I needed to see the last light fade in those terrified, pleading, brown eyes. And when it had, when he’d grown entirely still, I continued to strangle him.

Not until a shadow fell over me did I stop.

“Velvet,” Sylph whispered my name. There was fear and sadness in her eyes, her hoof hesitant as it reached to touch my withers. “We need to keep moving. Someone must have heard that racket.”

Deep, rattling breaths rocked my body as I nodded in numb agreement.

Sombra had dispatched his opponent with far greater ease, a half-charred leg sticking out from behind a support column was all I could see of the other dog. Glowing embers rested in Sombra’s beard, a sadness in his eye as he made the Sol weave with a hoof.

“Forgive me, Faust, for I have broken a strand of your weave,” he said in a grave voice, bowing his head before checking the body for anything of use.  
 
To say I was shocked to hear the Prayer of Absolution would be gross understatement. More so was the sincerity in his words. There was none of his arrogance or pride, just a sullen acceptance and regret.

The creak of unoiled hinges brought us all back to the reality of our situation.

Spinning, we faced a door along the wall opposite from where we’d entered.

Head held low, a cautious hunch to her shoulders, Helen tip-hoofed through the door, a sack over her shoulder. She’d gone no more than two steps when she spotted the guard I’d killed, her small eyes flicking up to me. With a clatter the bag fell, a few personal effects rolling out of the open top. Helen scrambled away from us, pressing her back to the wall.

“Escaped? But, how?” She choked out, raising an arm as a shield.

In a flash Sylph and I were over her. While Sylph pressed one of her dagger’s to Helen’s neck, I demanded, “The control rod, do you still have it?”

Helen’s eyes went wider still, darting for just a moment to a pouch at her side. Needing no further explanation, I tore it open with my teeth spilling its contents across the floor. Among the coins and bits of jerky fell the control rod. 

“You will remove my inhibitor, now.”

Paws shaking, Helen’s voice quivered as she asked, “If done, you let me live, yes? Let good, old Helen live?”

Working my jaw to keep from yelling, and further risk alerting any other guards, I gave a short nod.

The surge of freedom as the rings clattered to the ground at the behest of Helen’s trembling paws is not a feeling I will ever forget. Nor will the sick pit in my stomach when I think back to what I did next.

The way Llallawynn slid free of her sheath.

The way Llallawynn reverberated as she came down on Helen’s right wrist.

The piercing howl that poured from Helen’s throat, alerting the arena if it hadn’t been already.

They haunt me now, but I didn’t care then, returning Llallawynn to her sheath with a clack and marching across the room. Sombra was quiet, while Sylph was green beneath her coat.

Those moments are so fresh in my memory, even after all these years, while the next hours are a blurry hazy. I recall fighting our way through the arena, releasing the imprisoned halla and exiting into the city proper in flashes. Moments seared into my eyes that refused to leave me for years.

My first destination was the deep cages and cells underneath the arena, filled with hundreds of halla. Between them and I, a dozen or so guards waited, reacting to the deep booms of alarms that rumbled through the stone. No blade forged by dogs could hope to match Llallawynn, and they fell like stalks of wheat to the farmer’s scythe. Fueled by my hatred, I knew neither fatigue nor mercy.  

“Why,” the aged halla that had previously spurned me asked when I opened his cage, a score of dead guards forming a trail at my back. “We left you to die in the arena, why help us?”

“Because, I am Velvet Sparkle of Bear Lodge, and we protect the herds,” was my instant reply as I moved to the next cell.

“A Bear?” The question was repeated over and over, jumping from one voice to the next in a ripple, the idea a stone in the halla’s pond. “The pony is Halla? And a Bear?”

They began to smile and trill, issuing their own war calls as they plucked the dead clean of anything usable, breaking into the armouries and taking weapons and barding. A few halla approached me as I stood watch near the broad stairs. They all stopped a respectful few lengths from me, bow their head and mutter the words, ‘Orka ok vegr’, ‘Strength and honour’. A phrase often said in prayer by Bears before battle.

Among the halla were a dozen or so fawns, ranging from a few years to the cusp of adulthood in age. They were straggly, bedraggled things, gazing up at Sombra, Sylph and I in wonder. Some tried to approach me, but turned back when they caught sight of the look on my face and the set of my jaw. All of them kept close to an adult, seeking protection and guidance.

I noted with a sickening dread that none of the halla belonged to a lodge. There were not even any Owls or Badgers among their number, and certainly no Eagles to lead the herd. What fate had befallen them I did not want to know, though I had a guess that only fueled the seething in my heart.

Lifting Llallawynn above my head, I pointed up the stairs to where the yipping voices and guttural growls of the dogs could be heard approaching. Issuing a throaty roar, I lead the charge striking down any dog that came across my path.

The dogs were not unprepared, but against our wrath and magic, they were quickly forced back. Sombra and Sylph at my sides, we formed the spear’s point, and thrust deep through the city’s heart. Gutters frothed red, spilling into the rushing river so far below.

As we fought, I began to count, shouting out, ‘One, Two, Three!’ as we worked our trade. A few of the halla joined me, their deeper voices mingling with my sharper cries. Sylph, merciful Faust, did not. She fell back, moving along the outer edge of the herd, directing and protecting them as best she could, her daggers orbiting her like the sun and moon, darting out when needed.  

Beneath the starlike moss, twinkling so blue, we shed enough blood to make the stones weep.

But, for me, it could not have ever been enough.

I had to make the dogs suffer.

I just didn’t know how.

After all, no single unicorn, no matter how powerful or fueled by rage, could strike down a city of a hundred thousand. It would take an army to purge Gur Moloch.

So, we kept running and fighting.

Underhoof the road rumbled from the force of the great orihalcum doors being pulled by weights of giant stone. We fought on.as the hundred hoof tall monoliths slammed shut, barring our escpe.

There was no time to despair, as Sylph jumped to the herd’s head and shouted, “This way, this way! There is another exit. Follow me!”

Bolts fired from crossbows clattered and skipped around our hooves. While a few halla were lost, many more were spared by Sombra.

The stallion was everything the ancient stories describe of the wizards of old; all contained fire, with a terrible passion that was frightening to behold in its unfurled glory. He showed me through deed what he meant when he said to make others pay the Dark Runes’ price. Such hexes he weaved! Yet, he never killed even as Sylph and I sent scores to Tartarus. Sombra pierced the dog’s hearts with fear to drive them back. He lead them astray with illusions or hid us in a flowing shroud of smoke. Every move was precise, even when he resorted to his draconian heritage and breathed columns of pyroclastic ash, he avoided killing.  

His spellwork faster than the snap of a whip, Sombra must have saved every halla at least thrice before we reached a small, service tunnel.

Diamond Dogs closed in from all directions, their drums like thunder in the dark and their slavering yips at our tails. Only a few halla could squirm through the narrow tunnel at a time.

So, I stood, chest heaving, blind in one eye from my mane, matted with sweat and worse, staring down the stretch of road we’d just traveled, a road that bore testament to how low I’d fallen. With reckless abandon, I turned to the Dark Runes, the simplicity of their use overpowering what little good judgement remained.

“You play a dangerous game,” Sombra said from behind me. He’d taken position atop a short set of steps from which he could cast his spells, protecting not only the halla, but Sylph and I as well. His breaths were shallow and eyes sparkled as if he’d just stepped into a parlour to have tea, not spent an hour or more constantly casting spells.

My hackles rising, I countered with a snap. “I am well aware of what I am doing. I’ve seen how you make your spells work. That is what you wished me to learn, is it not?” Following my harsh bark with a spell, I smiled in satisfaction as the dogs fell back several yards to avoid my magic. Those that did not twitched and writhed in the gutters or in piles along the narrow lane.

Shaking his head, Sombra gave a long, morose sigh. “This is not what I meant.” He gestured at the hordes of dogs. They were growing ever more organised, their once frantic defense turning into a flowing cohort, shields at the front with archers behind. “You were supposed to learn that the price, no matter who paid it, is too high. You were meant to learn moderation and skill. Instead you charge ahead and misuse magic. You are a fool, and will die as such if you do not learn to open your eyes and see the consequences that lay down that road.”

There was little time to argue, as at that moment the ranks of dogs parted and he emerged; Prince Selim.

The prince seemed to fill the road, both growing in size and not. Power, a dreadful, malicious hungry power, scratched along my senses as if sand were being poured over my face. From the way Sylph pressed her ears back and lowered her stance I could tell she felt the same effect.

Sombra jumped down from his perch, trotting slowly towards the prince. “Sylph, Velvet, you should both leave now.”

Darting back from the encroaching dogs, Sylph rolled her head. “And let you throw all my hard work rescuing you away? Ha!”

“I am owed a debt of blood.” I added cantering up to Sombra’s side and throwing him a cock-sure grin.

“Very well.” A low, resigned sigh hissed through Sombra’s teeth. “But, remember this; The prince is merely a vessel. It is Moondream’s Lust that we face. All the yearning and hunger of a goddess foal, bent and twisted by the centuries, nurtured by the whispers of the dead and Algol. The Demon Star’s foulest work laid bare.

“Do not touch the crystal. Moondream still slept when you uncovered her in the treasure rooms. With her awakened, she will attack you through your own magic at the barest touch. Trust me when I tell you, she will destroy you in an instant and leave only a hollowed vessel to pour her single desire into; her need for more power and to dominate. There is a reason I left the retrieval of her Lust for last, for it is far more dangerous than even her Pride and Envy.”  

There was no time for any reply as the horde of dogs drew back by some unspoken command, waiting for some sign from their prince.

Suspended on a gold chain around his neck, the Lust Crystal spilled pinkish-blue aether like water from an overflowing cup down his chest.

Selim’s knuckles creeked on the shaft of his spear, the embossed shield on his left arm at the ready.

No speeches were given by either side. None were needed. We threw themselves at the other with all the fury and power we could muster.

Crossbows twanged from the rooftops, their bolts caught or deflected by counterspells as Sombra and I charged, side-by-side, blades at the ready. Infused with the partial power of a goddess, Selim met our charge with a confident grin. Llallawynn was driven aside, while Sombra’s deadly breath was deflected into a wall, bursting it into chunks of rock, each large enough to crush flat anything beneath them.

Darting back, I dodged and parried, but Selim’s speed, strength, and skill were an easy match, heightened as he was by the Dreamer.

Selim was a dervish, spinning and slashing, driving us to the city wall in a cold, erratic fury.

“Haruck, hurack, clack, clack, clack,” Selim sung as he knocked Llallawynn high and drove a blade through one of Sombra’s shields, aether leaking from the crystal to coat his twin swords. “Hear my song and feel my sting. Blades glow red as I steal your wing.”

Sombra’s eyes widened, his entire body growing rigid, mouthing forming a small ‘O’ of surprise.

“Knock the sun from the sky, oh, pity, pity, hear her cry!” Selim continued, the aether from the crystal now coating his entire body, and voice raised in pitch. “Betrayal below, betrayal above. Turned against his one true Love.”

Carried by the force of conviction bolstered further still through the tides of ancient desire, Selim battered me aside. I heard, as if across a great gulf, Sylph calling my name before I smacked into a low, shattered wall. Slumped against the crimson stained stone, with lights bursting in my vision, I beheld Selim strike through all of Sombra’s defenses.

Gone entirely was the prince’s husky voice, in its place the sharp, lyrical tone of a filly.

“Stabbed his friend in the eye. Told the filly a terrible lie.” Shrouded in a ghostly cloak, Selim towered over Sombra.

The stallion stood taller, raising his head, and it was then I realised he’d been drawing Selim close. That Sombra had no intent to truly defend himself. He smiled and bared his throat.

“Come then, my little dreamer, let us finish what I began.”  

As the prince’s blades descended towards the crystal in Sombra’s chest, Sylph charged, small antlers held low. Too focused on Sombra, the possessed prince only just noticed her at the last instant. His sword swept low, a thin trail of crimson splattering in its wake, and then Sylph was upon him. Both went sprawling across the stone towards where I lay, Sylph deathly still and Selim shrieking in rage.

I seized my opportunity, diving towards the pair while Sombra rattled a warning, attempting to intercept me. Curling a leg around Selim’s neck, I latched onto his back as he stood, the prince more focused on Sombra than me. The cords to Llallawynn I plucked, calling her from wherever she’d fallen back to my side, ready to be thrust into the prince’s side.

And then there was a flash of numbness, followed by a resounding bang and… I am not sure what happened next. There was a voice shrieking at me, I know that much, and then I was falling. I saw… somepony. Wynn? Algol? I can only remember a vague shape and wings. The precise details escape me.

All I do know is that one moment I was on Selim’s back, ready to plunge Llallawynn into his heart, and then I was sitting in the middle of the road, with the Lust Crystal hanging around my neck, the stone dull and lifeless. Selim sat, half-propped against an overturned cart, while Sombra stood several lengths away next to the escape tunnel as the last halla wriggled through. Sylph leaned against Sombra, the two holding back the rising tide of dogs as best they could.    

Slowly, I rose to my hooves and found Llallawynn. My legs wobbled like they were made of pudding as I pulled myself towards Selim.

“Murderer,” I breathed, my goal in sight at last, every once of my will used to drag me one stuttering step at a time.

“Stay back!” Selim barked. He attempted to stand, only to be pushed back down.    

What remained of my strength returned in a stuttered bursts, gathering itself as my blood rose.    

“You murdered her! A foal, with a mother who may never know what happened to her daughter. You cut away her future, a life of her own.” I seethed, and so too did my magic, my aura carrying a dark blue core cloaked in shadow.  

“Velvet, come on,” Sylph shouted from the tunnel’s mouth. “Leave him.”

But I couldn’t.

A spell jumped from the depths of my memory, one tied to Juniper. A dark, terrible spell, heightened by my loathing, even more vile than it had been before as it fed off the growing hole in my heart.

My muzzle turned up in a grim smile.

"Please, Velvet." Sylph took a few hesitant steps towards me.

The prince scurried along the ground, pressing his back to the wall. He lifted a paw, stretching it out to me as if I were Sol’s salvation. “Mercy, great Sorceress, mercy,” he begged over and over, broken and defeated.

I stared down at him, the prince’s large, terrified eyes connected with my own. Lowering my muzzle to his ear, I whispered, “I will show you the same mercy you showed her.”

And then I killed him.