The Draconequus of Notre Mare

by Inkquill


Chapter One: The Bells of Notre Mare.

The Draconequus of Notre Mare.

By Inkquill.

Chapter One: The Bells of Notre Mare.

Overture. 

Maris, August. 11th, 17―

“Come along Button, we mustn't dawdle,” Elaina urged as the streets began to grow more active with the mornings progression. “We have to get a few things here then we can head back home.”

The dark brown colt fumbled slightly as he tried to keep pace with his mother while at the same time trying to amuse himself with a pair of marbles he had brought with him during their morning outing.

“I'm coming mama," he answered. "I'm coming.”

It was early in the morning. The sun just now reaching above the mountainous horizon in east, letting its warmth gently drape itself over the sleeping, somber earth. Streams of sunlight leaked through the early morning cloud cover, like white javelins of heaven.

The world began to breath. The birds began to sing, filling the air with humble music. The grass glistened with the morning dew, making the fields and pastures sparkle radiantly as the wind blew softly through the trees.

The market place was a bustle of activity. All the shops and street vender and peasantry moved about the narrow streets excitedly; the sounds of the clattering of hooves on cobblestone stone filled the air. But not so great was it that it could drown out the sound of clashing iron.

Thundering with great pride, the great bells of the Marisian cathedral of Notre Mare rang out as they always did at this time of day.

Every morning and evening, their harmonious music would ring throughout the streets and surrounding countryside of Maris. They could be like the roar of a great storm, or like the soft thrum of the hummingbird's wing. In either case, their music is that of power, sadness, love, and passion.

Grand, imposing, beautiful, Notre Mare is truly a sight to behold. The whole structure like one great mural. Thousands of carved statues, depicting both the beautiful and the monstrous decorate it's ornate wall. It's towering gates never failing to strike awe in the eyes of the onlooker; A triumphant monument to pony kind.

Adjacent to the Grand Plaza of Notre Mare, the local market square was a bustle of activity. Farmers, millers, blacksmiths, merchants, beggars, ponies returning home from the morning mass, all variety could be found here. Notre Mare may have been the soul of the city, but the market place was Maris’s living heart.

Maneuvering through the crowds, Button's mother made her way to one of the local vendors stands. He had just finished with another pony when she approached.

“Good morrow mademoiselle,” the elderly stallion said with a smile.

“Good morrow to you monsieur,” she kindly replied. "I am in need of some carrots and potatoes. I'm making a stew for some visiting relatives.”

The older earth pony chuckled slightly. “Then you are in luck, the harvest has been very plentiful this year.”

As his mother conveyed with the older stallion, Button fiddled with the two glass marbles he had brought. They were brand new and vibrantly colored. One red, the other blue. As he played, he could hear the ringing of iron echoing from the dark confines of the cathedrals lofty bell towers. He looked up at the imposing structure, wide eyed and mouth agape.

Then suddenly, his ears turned towards the gates of the grand plaza as a new sound rose above the bustling masses. The sound of a female voice, singing.

“Morning in Maris, the city awakes
To the bells of Notre Mare
The fisherman fishes, the baker man bakes
To the bells of Notre Mare,”

Curiosity had stirred in the young colts mind. Who was that singing in the distance? Looking back at his mother, who was still speaking with the elderly farmer, he turned his focus back towards the plaza's large gate.

“To the big bells as loud as the thunder,
To the little bells soft as a psalm…”

His curiosity besting him, he collected his marbles and ventured towards the plaza's gates. Pushing through the crowd, he eventually found his way into a clearing. There he saw a brightly colored wagon painted purples and greens and stationed just before the plaza.

There was an open window on its side, covered by an awning of exotic fabric, in which a brightly colored mare dressed in garments of violet could be seen. A small cluster of foals had congregated around the wagon to listen to the pink gypsy-mare as she continued with her song.

“And some say the soul of the city's
The toll of the bells
The bells of Notre Mare.”

“Come one, and come all, brave little pony-folk!” she cheered her juvenile crowd on. “Behold, the great and marvelous stories of Madame Pinkie Pie! Whom, or what, should I enlighten you with today, hmm?” she asked, and one of the colts chimed up; “Oh, oh! Please Madam Pinkie, tell us about the cathedral!” he asked her. Pinkie grinned with joy at the question.

“Very well, I shall!” she declared, and held a hoof to her ear, smiling softly. “Listen, they're beautiful, no?” She inquired of her wide eyed audience. The foals all looked a bit confused, but the bells were still ringing loudly.

“The bells little ones, the bells! Can’t you hear them? So many colors of sound, so many changing moods. Because you know, they don't ring all by themselves.”

Suddenly she held up a small hoof puppet the likeness of herself. “They don’t?” A nasal voice asked in surprise.

“No you silly filly.” She replied, shaking her head and chuckling. she unveiled a curtain that would let her look right up at the bell towers. She pointed her hoof towards the lofty halls as she exclaimed, “Up there, high, high in the dark bell tower lives the mysterious bell ringer.”

“Who is this creature?”

“Who?”

“What is he?”

“What?”

“How did he come to be there?”

“How?"

“Hush!" She softly scolded, and the foals all giggled a bit as Pinkie continued. “And Pinkie Pie will tell you. It is a tale, a tale of a mare, and a monster,” With an almost wicked grin, Pinkie continued to sing.


It was snowing, and cold. The night was as black as the ink that drips from the quill. There was no moon, no stars, just the ever dominating grip of winter and the frigid storm that loomed in the distance.

The streets of Maris where empty and desolate, covered in several layers of snow and ice. The usually sprawling city was almost the like of a hollow corpse, the only sounds to be heard were the sharp wailings of the winds and the swaying clatter of the store signs that they buffered.

The great river that flowed through the city had been reduced to a slow moving slur of water and ice, like a vein in the body of a slain beast that long ago lost the heat it once retained.

But through this blacken cold night, unbeknownst to the sleeping native populace, four weary souls slowly and quietly made their way into the city. Traveling along the icy river flow, the four figures tried their best not to be seen. 

Eris shivered, wishing she hadn’t worn out her warm fur-lined leathers. Back in hot Mareseille, heavy clothing had been out of place, but here, in the grip of winter, it was invaluable. Her nose and lungs froze as she took another breath. Frantically, she pulled a portion of her thin scarf up to cover her nose; the air was easier to breathe that way, but her breath fogged her vision.

She, as well as her two other companions huddled for warmth in the hull of the small ferryboat, whilst the fourth steered the vessel forward via a long wooden pole.

Among her company was a light blue unicorn of decent strength and magical ability from Germaneigh, the other a Pegasus with a tanned coat and long mane from Saddle Arabia, her country of origin. 

However, unlike her companions, Eris was not a pony. She was a mare nonetheless, but she was long and slender, with a body similar to that of a serpent, of which she tightly wrapped the dark colored wrapping about. She wore a hood over her head, but her golden eyes and red pupils could still be easily seen.

“Dark was the night when our tale was begun,
 On the docks near Notre Mare.”

As they slowly navigated the frigid waters, the three huddled figures scanned the shore line for any sign of activity. Eris however was more so concerned with the tight bundle she cradled in her arms.

Suddenly, a small whimper came up from the trio. “Hush it up, will you,” the male pegasus whispered in concern.

There in the strange exotic mare arms, she cradled a tight bundle of furs. It squirmed slightly as she brought it closer to her breast. The male unicorn turned his gaze towards her.

“We’ll be spotted!” He followed suit. She nodded as she tried her best to hush the whimpering child in her arms, giving him soft nuzzles and kisses.

“Hush little one..” she begged of the child, praying that they would not be found. She knew far too well of the city’s reputation and disliking of foreigners like themselves. And on of that, not only where they foreigners, they were gypsies. Above all, gypsies were the most unwelcomed in the city. They were magic users, and such activities were heavily suppressed and in some cases outlawed within the Marisian walls.

“Four frightened gypsies slid silently under
The docks near Notre Mare.”

They had been traveling for weeks now. They had run out of food and resources. And with winter already in full sway, their options were few, if any at all. Reluctantly, they decided to attempt to enter the walled city. Their goal was slip into the city undetected by the authorities, and eventually reach a safe haven that they knew they would be safe for the time being. They called it, “The Court of Miracles”, and their best hope for survival. 

When the boat finally came to a halt, they all quickly stepped off, the blanket and its precious cargo being carried firmly in the mare's maternal embrace; Eris, was the most desperate to reach the hidden “Court”.

With the arrival of winter, the cold had brought her illness, and the illness had robbed her of her milk, forcing her to substitute goat's milk it its place. But every time she fed her child, their already limited resources further diminished. If they didn't reach the Court of Miracles, the child would starve.

“Four gold Bits for safe passage into Maris.” the ferry-colt demanded.

But as the oldest stallion of the three in the company, the teal colored unicorn, prepared to pay the generous stallion for helping them into the town, an arrow shot right into the butt of the ferry-colt's oar, and several armored stallions appeared, wearing the armor of the Marisian Guard and armed with pole-axes and crossbows as they all rushed up to surround and trap the ponies.

“But a trap has been laid for the gypsies,
And they gazed up in fear and alarm.”

“Gypsies!” The captain declared. "You are all under arrest by order of the Queen, under the restriction of trespassing into Maris without permit!”

“Without permi... Are you insane?!” the Pegasus demanded as he'd push and struggled to get the pole-axes away from them. “That low some wyrm of a “queen” of yours wouldn't let us in even if Faust all mighty herself ordained it! We are desperate and without food, what harm could we do? Release us!”

“Do not dare speak such slander of our Queen, gypsy!” the captain bellowed as he jabbed the butt of his lance on to the colt's throat, making him groan and fall to his hooves, gasping for air.

 “How dare you give her such insult! You all are to be taken into custody and interrogated for possible intent of overthrowing the Queen! Any more words uttered, and your sentence shall be wrought upon you two-fold!”

“M-Monster's…” the Pegasus groaned in pain, still trying to regain his breath as the other two tried to help him up. “You are all filthy low some…”

“Yes, gypsy. What are we?”

 Suddenly the trio's eye's shot wide open as the new voice echoed in their ears. Void of emotion and bitter, the voice was soft, but somehow retained a cold harshness to it, like the cold edge of sharpened steel.

“At a figure whose clutches,
Were iron as much as the bells…”

“Queen Chrysalis!” The frighten colt exclaimed. The moment the Pegasus uttered that name, all four of the company froze in instant fear as the tall sinister figure emerged from the shadows. She was slender, yet formed like a goddess, her coat the color of milk, her mane like liquid turquoise and her eye's like faded emeralds.

“The bells of Notre Mare…”[/i]

Almost hypnotic was her gaze. One could quite easily find himself lost in those clouded jewels. But what he would find in them however, that was a different matter.
 
Her ornately decorated hooves trampling into the snow covered ground as she approached them, glaring down at each of them with a scornful sneer as her guards proceeded to bind them in chains, all except for the mare.

“Queen Chrysalis had longed
To purge the world
Of vice and sin.”

Unable to move from sheer terror it was as if she had frozen to the very snow that blanketed the earth, and she coward as the slender queen strode up to them.

“And she saw corruption
Everywhere
Except within.”

“Bring these gypsy vermin to the Palace of Justice.” She said with a jeering tone. Just then, the small being in the cloaked mare’s cradle began to whine anew, bringing up the attention of one of the guards who that grabbed at the cloth.

“You there, what're you hiding?!” He demanded and almost ripped the cloth off, but Eris resisted as she pushed the guard off of her.

 “Let it be!” she begged, almost demanding of the guard, but instantly she cowered as now, even Chrysalis appeared to be intrigued of what lay wrapped within the cloth. Cocking her head with an angry expression, she eyed the hooded figure before her. Chrysalis could see Eris's un-equine eye's peering through the shade of her cloak, trembling with fear. Shocked and confused at the abnormality of the mares eyes she turned to her guard. “Stolen goods, no doubt…” she declared accusingly. “Take them from her.”

Cornered, and with no other option or desire other than to protect her child, Eris made the only decision she could at the moment.
 
“She ran!”

Eruption through the armed guards, the serpentine figure pressed the small bundle close to her breast as she then ran in full gallop.

 “After her!” She heard Chrysalis shout to her guards behind her. “Don't let her escape!”

Eris could hear the trampling of hoofs behind her, the soldiers were hot on her heels. With incredible speed, Eris flew through the snow covered streets. She felt a bolt from a cross bow fly pass her head and she looked back to see the darkly cladded guards still in hot pursuit. In desperation she raised her claw and in an instant, the very road was shifted from stone and snow to soap and water. The guards were too slow to react and ran straight into the trap; slipping and falling on the ground.

She concealed in the shadow of an alley-way, she checked her bearings, peering through the snowy, fog covered streets. Her breath heavy and ragged. Caressing the tightly bound bundle, she hushed lovingly to her child, desperately trying to keep him from crying out. Then suddenly, her ears caught wind of the sound of approaching hooves. She whirled around to her horror to see Queen Chrysalis herself charging straight towards her. Fire burning in her eyes.

Frantically, Eris sped her way in the opposite direction of the oncoming mare. Weaving through alley-ways, over fences, stables and even trampling through a frost covered garden, but Chrysalis did not give up her chase on the mare trying to avoid her sentence. Finally, the cloaked figure found a slim entrance too big for the snow colored mare to follow her through, and she slipped right through, as Chrysalis neighed in annoyance and anger as she was forced to seek out an alternate route.

Finally, the mare thought, as she then reached the vast, empty Grand Plaza. She sighed in relief as she gazed upon the towering stone parapets of the cathedral of Notre Mare. Almost flying, she bolted straight towards the great doors, her cloth bundle still held tightly in her arms as the crying of an infant could still be heard loudly crying in the night. She knew those who claimed sanctuary within the cathedral were welcomed by the church and could not be touched by the authorities of Maris, not even Chrysalis.

She finally reached the reinforced doors, tears of pure fear and desperation welling up in her eyes as her heart beating like thunder, she began to furiously beat against the grand entrance.

“Sanctuary! Please, give us sanctuary!” she cried out, begging the higher powers that anypony who would be present would hear her pleas of mercy. “Faust's mercy, please give us sanctuary!”

However, the thundering hooves were heard anew, and with a gasping whimper of fear, she could see Chrysalis advancing for her anew, finally catching up with her little escapee as if she grown tired with her games. Justice was inevitable! Chrysalis clamped her teeth upon the cloth wrapping and tried to pull it away from the gypsy-mare.

But Eris resisted. She pulled back desperately trying to defend her child, and even rammed the blunt of her hind leg into Alicorn's side, in hopes she would release her grip upon the bundle. A brief struggle ensued between the two, both determined to succeed in the endeavor. 

The gypsy-mare gave another tug on the cloth, causing a distressed cry to come from the infant wrapped within. In that instant, Chrysalis raised herself upon her hind legs and in a single movement, struck the slender female square upon her brow. The sharp curve of her hoof digging into the mare's skin.

Eris lost her balance, her grip upon her child faltered. She fell back, her head dashing on to the snow covered stone steps; a streak of crimson staining the bleak, pearl-white snow upon the steps of the imposing cathedral, the lifeless form of Eris, defeated in her struggle, now draped upon the cold stone; a pool of vermillion red staining the snow even further. She had stopped moving. 

She was dead.

With a grim expression, Chrysalis held the bundle and looked down upon the lifeless figure. Everything was still. Almost no sound could be accounted for as Chrysalis stood over the bloodied steps. But then a small whimper came up from the cloth, drawing Chrysalis’ attention. “A baby?” When she unfolded the cloth with her hoof, even she gasped, and folded it up as quickly as she had undone it. “A monster!” she exclaimed, looking frantically around for a way to dispose of such a creature. Finally, her cold, emerald eyes looked upon the only thing in her current vicinity that could destroy such a beast; A well.

Trudging up to it, she peered into the half-frozen water below her, the thin veil of ice below would surely break if he tossed the monstrosity down. She dangled it over the gaping maw to its abyssal death, she was about to let it drop and fall down to its certain death…

“Stop!” Cried the Archdeacon, Luna.

Turning her cold, venom-filled gaze towards the midnight blue pony with and expression of annoyance as she held up the dangling bundle. “This is an unholy demon!” She exclaimed, “I am sending it back to hell where it belongs.”

Shocked and bewildered by the scene before her, Luna knelt down to the lifeless form that was draped across the stone steps. Cradling the body in her hooves she looked up at the queen. “See that the innocent blood you have spilt, on the steps of Notre Mare.”

Chrysalis dismissed the Archdeacon’s words. “I am guiltless,” she said with a disinterested tone, her eyes half-lidded. “She ran, I pursued.”

Luna's expression was now one of anger as the queen strode towards her. “Now you would add this child's blood to your guilt, on the steps of Notre Mare?” Luna continued.

“My conscience is clear!” She harshly stated.

Luna only frowned at the queen’s disposition; this was a serious matter. “You can lie to yourself and your minions,” she stated. “You can claim that you haven't a qualm, but you never can run from nor hide what you've done from the eye's... the very eyes of Notre Mare!” She raised her hoof towards the cathedral, directing Chrysalis' gaze to the countless statues.

Now it was Chrysalis' turn to be frightened. She gazed upon the towering walls of Notre Mare, petrified as the thousands of carved stone eyes bore their way into her soul. If she didn't know any better, she could suspect that these statues were glaring at her in disapproval and accusation. She felt as if she now stood before the holy jury of heaven, one false move and she would face the consequences. Chrysalis grew even more frightened as he spotted a statue of a winged mare cradling a foal. It was the statue of Celestia. The holy mother of the sun and dawn, the first born of the mother, Faust. Her word was of love, wisdom and kindness, and it appeared now that she herself was glaring down upon the Marisian queen.

“And for one time her life of power and control,
Chrysalis felt a twinge of fear for her immortal soul.”

Chrysalis knew then she could not kill the creature she now held, even if she wanted to. “What must I do?” She asked with reluctant concern.

Gently, Luna picked up the lifeless body from the cold stone. She would receive a proper burial, not thrown aside into some ditch for the feral dogs to pick clean. After all, even if she was not a pony, she was still a child of the mother, Faust. With sullen eyes, she turned to the queen. “Care for the child,” she stated. “And raise it as your own.”

A look of disbelief and disgust spread across Chrysalis' face, her eye's wide and stormy. “What?” She exclaimed, “I am to be settled with misshapen…” she paused, her eyes fixed on the bundle. She was a respected member of the authority and if she were to be seen in the care of this creature, she would lose what she had gained through fear and malice. Of course, she had no other choice. “Very well, but let him live here with you in your church.”

Luna looked on in surprise and confusion. “Live here?” She asked, “where?”

Chrysalis' eyes wandered. “Anywhere... just so he's locked away where no pony else can see.” Her eyes fell upon the lofty cathedral towers. “The bell tower perhaps? And who knows, our mother works in mysterious ways.” Holding the child closer to her face, a venomous grin traced along her lips. “Even this foul creature may prove one day to be, of use to me.”


Coming back to Pinkie and her now spell-charmed fillies and colts, she smirked as she saw them entranced by the story she was giving them of the cathedrals bell ringer, seeing him as a most mysterious of beings. “And Chrysalis gave the foal a cruel name,” she said, as a small shadow play was turned on for the children, using a paper figure of Chrysalis holding the cradled baby and walking up the stairs of the bell tower, but it was soon replaced with a small, horned serpent-like being following her steps. “A name that means chaos and disharmony... Discord!”

As the shadow play progressed, the paper figure of this ‘Discord’ was swapped to a slightly older-looking version of him, finally ending with him reaching the top of a tower, pulling a small rope as a little bell began to chime.

“Now here is a riddle to guess if you can,
sing the bells of Notre Mare…”

And as Pinkie brought the story to its end, inside the bell tower, a tall, slender, dragon like creature veiled in shadow, powerfully pulled upon a strong, thick rope, as all the bells thunderously rung and echoed around him, but he dutifully carried out his job.

“Who is the monster and who is the mare?
Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells,
bells, bells, bells, bells
Bells of Notre Mare!”

Whilst finally letting himself be dragged upwards along the rope's recoil, he swung back and forth between the swinging, thundering bells, the wooden support beams, and numerous ropes hanging around them, and finally landing with a loud 'thud' upon the wooden floor of his dwelling.

Madame Pinkie Pie then glanced at her audience. They were silent, wide eyed and mouth agape. Finally one colt broke the silence of the crowd, as he slowly began to clap his hooves together in applause. The rest soon joined, and cheers of joy rose up from the congregation. Button was still among them. With a look of wonder and excitement, he gazed up at the dark bell tower and imagined the creature that dwelled there. But his imagination was interrupted by the sound of his mother voice coming from behind him with a concerned tone.

“Button, there you are!” She scolded, “What have I told you about wandering off?” Button was too excited to listen to his mother's banter. “Mama, it was amazing!” He joyfully exclaimed, “with the cathedral and the queen and the bell ringer and…” He was cut off. “Oh Button we don't have time, we have to get home to make dinner!” And with that, she pulled Button by the hood in the direction of their home. But as they departed the scene, Button managed to get one last glance at Notre Mare. The sun arching over its bell towers and the echoing ringing slowly began to fade. A new day had begun.