Velvet Sparkle and the Queen in Stone
By Tundara
Part Ten
That Monday—like every other since her return—dawned with Princess Luna making the flight from Canterlot to Moonstone Castle. Her zbori guards cruised at her flanks, leathery batwings beating twice for every one of her own, their formation tight and eyes scanning the skies above and below.
There was a thin, hungry smile on Luna’s lips, one spurred by her previous visit to the castle. There were a number of new recruits for not only the Royal Guard, but also the beginnings of what would become Twilight’s protectors. A few promising candidates had emerged in that session, and Luna longed to see how much they’d improved.
She had just put Selene to sleep, the moon sliding below the disc’s rim, when a familiar presence brushed her awareness. A casual glance over her withers revealed a broad winged shadow trying to hide behind the lingering clouds from the previous day’s rain. Like a cat, the shadow darted closer and closer, lingering a few moments, half-visible behind a pale sheet of orange, before it continued.
“Let us take the scenic route this morn, ladies,” Luna called out over the wind as she angled around a puffy cumulonimbus.
Once behind the cloud, Luna beat her wings hard to gain altitude. Her sentries knew well their princess and began to fan out with only two attempting to keep pace at her side. The other’s found nooks in the cloud cover to conceal themselves and ambush the interloper. Blades flicked out of their armoured boots as the guards readied themselves to dive.
Leveling off, Luna was pleased to see the shadow wheeling around the cloud below her.
It drew up short as it noticed the sky where Luna and her escort should have been was empty.
In that moment of confusion, Luna struck, falling like a black javelin. A whisper of silver smoke heralded the arrival of Tamashi, Luna’s ancient Long Odachi, the sword’s blade like a crescent of moonlight in the dawn’s fiery glow.
Sol crested the mountains in the same moment the shadow realised her peril. Luna’s eyes danced with grim amusement as they connected with those subtle amethysts that were oh so familiar and filled with deep shock. Wings snapping out to arrest her descent, Tamashi continued on, blade turned so the flat smacked the back of Cadence’s neck with a soft thwack.
“Mother! What in Tartarus do you think you are doing?” Cadence snapped, beating her wings to put a few lengths between them, a hoof rubbing where she’d been hit.
“Playing, of course,” Luna laughed. With a simple spell, she dismissed Tamashi and settled on the cloud’s ledge. Around slightly conciliatory smile, Luna added, “I… may have taken it a little far, perhaps.”
“You could have killed me, and you…” Cadence scrunched her face up as the ends of her mane and tail began to dance like pink and white flames.
Luna lowered her head. “I was wrong. Is that what you wish to hear? I apologize.”
“You… I… No. Arguing over this isn’t worth it.” Cadence gave her head a vehement shake as she settled on the cloud across from Luna. “Just, what if I’d been a pegasus?”
“Then I would not have done so. It is not as though you were hiding yourself.”
Cadence let out a small huff. “That’s not the point, mother, you… No, I said I wasn’t going to argue, and I’m not. I accept your apology.”
Face brightening, Luna started towards Cadence, intent on giving her daughter a hug. She stopped when Cadence stiffened and backed up a few steps. The reaction hurt, like a knife thrust into her heart.
Flustered, Cadence paced a few times across the cloud’s edge and chewed on the inside of her mouth. “I came to ask you a favour, actually.”
“Truly?” Luna gave her a flat stare. “A favour? Just now you deny me the simplest affections, only to request a favor? Such temerity. I am uncertain if I should feel proud or put upon.”
“It’s not for me, mother, but for Tyr. She is sick.”
“Ah, I understand. I recall the first time you came down with a cold. Worry not, my daughter, you will learn that such is only natural for fillies and colts,” Luna said, dismissing Cadence’s worries with the shrug of a wing before jumping from the cloud.
“She’s dying!” Cadence shouted, taking off after her.
Luna gave her a stern frown. “Fie. You know that is not possible. She is under mother’s protection.”
“I know what I have seen. Something is wrong with the spell.” Cadence beat her wings to catch up to Luna. “Would you just listen to me.”
“Certainly. I always have time for you. Speak as much as you want on the way to Moonstone.”
Cadence let out a relieved breath before launching into a long explanation of the past few weeks. She spared no detail, no matter how seemingly minor, of Tyr’s condition. Through it all Luna flew in silence, asking only for clarification on a few points. Cadence had only just reached her decision to involve Celestia when the castle’s courtyard came into view.
With a gentle clatter, Luna touched down, the castle’s commandant and trainees waiting for her in a loose cluster at the far end. Cadence expected them to stop and find a quiet place to finish the conversation. Purpose in her stride, Luna didn’t slow as she headed directly for the adjacent hall.
“Mother, come back here!” Cadence shouted, hurrying to keep pace. “I’m not finished!”
Once host to banquets for the castle’s lady and knights, the dining hall was now filled with matts and racks of practice weapons, with everything from dirks to pikes lining the walls between the ancient tapestries. Luna continued to ignore Cadence, reaching out with her magic to lift a pair of practice swords. Checking them for balance and finding them acceptable, she tossed one towards Cadence.
She caught the sword before it hit the ground and frowned at it, then at Luna. “You can not be serious.”
“I came here to practice. If you desire my attention…” A wolfish grin spread across Luna’s muzzle as she began to circle.
Cadence was only vaguely aware that the hall was filling with eager faces. She glanced back to the practice sword thinking of Tyr.
A slight shift in Luna’s shadow was all the warning Cadence had before she was set upon. It was an accepted fact that, while Celestia was the most powerful of the alicorns, Luna was the deadliest. Within three strokes Luna was behind Cadence, practice blade tapping her between the base of her mane. Cadence wasn’t certain what had occurred, only that it was a complete route.
“You haven’t been practicing,” Luna tutted as she returned to the starting position. “Perhaps I should ask Star Shimmer to give you some lessons.”
“I don’t need help from Celestia’s pet monster.”
Another exchange, this one even quicker, ended with Cadence on her back trying to understand when, precisely, she’d been tripped. Leaning down, Luna whispered into her ear, “She doesn’t like being called that. It’s hurtful, mean, and besides that, wrong. I happen to know she’s a rather sweet and considerate pony, under that rough exterior.”
“Why am I not surprised you two are friends?” Cadence huffed as she rolled to her hooves.
Ignoring the snide undertone, Luna asked, “What is your plan?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a rather self-explanatory question, I should think.” Luna rested her sword against her shoulder. “You are worried for Tyr. What are you going to do to help her?”
“I am going to Phoenicia.”
Luna almost dropped her sword at the name. She worked her mouth for a few moments, unable to find the words she wanted.
Seeing her opportunity, Cadence struck, and in six strokes was nursing a stinging slap to her nose.
“A good attempt. You overextended, however. Keep your sword closer for more control. Fighting isn’t about being flashy.” Luna demonstrated a standard guard with a few thrusts and cuts. “Now, why would you want to go to the city of chaos?”
Cadence rolled her eyes. “They never actually worshipped Chaos, you know.”
“Must you argue everything?”
“Well…” Cadence bit her tongue before a petulant reply could be fully formed. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to answer properly. “I’m not going to speak to them anyways. It’s their guest with whom I wish to speak.”
“Oh? And who is that, pray tell?” Luna watched Cadence for any deception as they once more set their blades.
Cadence opened her mouth, snapped it back shut, and then asked, “Did auntie Tia tell you about my little, um, encounter a few years back? With the archon?”
“You’re not serious? She’s in Phoenicia?” Luna’s tone was laced with concern, and a hint of anger. Not at Cadence, but at the idea of her daughter facing the disc’s only archon alone. After Cadence gave a little nod, a little flutter of uncertainty touched her heart. “Tell me you’re at least going to bring Penumbra, just so I don’t worry.”
Another roll of Cadence’s eyes was followed by a short nod. “I was going to anyways. Don’t tell auntie Tia where I’m going. I don’t want her to follow.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Luna scoffed as she trotted out of the sparring circle, “We’ve hardly spoken in weeks.” Practice swords put aside, Luna turned her attention to the recruits taking her and Cadence’s places. “This is the most time we’ve spent together since I came back, you know.”
“I… really?” Cadence grew quiet as she turned over the last few years.
“Never can I make up for what you were put through as a filly. Nightmare or no, it doesn’t matter. I should have done better. Were it within my power I would go back and change it all and be the mother you deserved. But I can not, so, I will be her now as best I am able.” Luna took great care not to look at Cadence and instead focus on the sparring recruits. Her heart was as a tremendous drum, each beat made her tremble and inflicted the slightest quaver in her words. “All I desire is the chance.”
Cadence’s jaw shifted with unspoken words. Anger, hot and fresh, mixed with old wounds in a slow, forced breath.
“I’m... not sure I’m ready, mother.” A second, less bitter, breath was followed by the tiniest of smiles. “But, I suppose I should try. It’d be hard trying to explain to my future foal why I don’t speak to her or his grandmother.”
Luna’s head whipped around so fast she almost hurt herself. “You’re not… That’s just the season talking… Yes?”
Behind a stifled giggle, Cadence shrugged. “It’s been on my mind more and more the last century, I admit, and even more so lately with everything that’s happening. Maybe next year. For now, I need to take care of my foster daughter. But I worry at leaving her unguarded. I wanted to ask you to look out for her while I’m away for a day or two, but since you don’t want to do me a favour…”
Despite having the distinct impression that she was being manipulated, Luna couldn’t hold back a quick, “No, I will do this for you. She is as much my grand-daughter, after all.”
“Thank you, mother.”
They parted only after Luna extracted a promise that Cadence would take care. It was a futile promise both knew, but it at least made Luna feel a little better.
The door gave a little squeal of protest as Velvet opened it and stepped into Tyr’s room. Dawn’s light spilled over the sleeping filly, dancing across her golden mane with its cobalt streaks. Hesitating, Velvet just watched Tyr for some minutes, the blankets slow rise and fall barely perceptible.
On occasion, Tyr would twitch, a hoof jittering or ear giving a flick as she dreamt. It put a thin smile on Velvet’s muzzle.
Her smile faded as Tyr gave a full body shudder and whimpered, “Mother, don’t send me away.”
The click of the door shutting woke her with a start, blue eyes flashing open and darting to take in the room before settling on Velvet and relaxing. “What time is it?” she asked with a big yawn, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Morning,” Velvet said as she went to the bedside and uncorked Tyr’s medicine.
Like Cadence, she had little faith that the tincture could cure Tyr. It did seem to relieve some of the symptoms, and for now, that was enough. Face scrunched up, Tyr accepted the foul smelling drought with only a little complaint.
As Tyr laid back and let her eyes slide shut once more, Velvet probed the magic surrounding and penetrating the filly.
The weave was immeasurably complex, formed from a tight, spiralling, golden nexus devoid of runes. It was pure aether worked in such a way that the weave itself acted like a single rune. Angry red patches pulsed as if alive but not in tune to the rest of the weave. Like spiders, they crawled over the rest of the weave leaving little trails of corruption. Velvet pressed deeper into the weave, taking great care to not exacerbate the spell.
Where the corruption originated, Velvet could not tell. It could as easily have been a flaw with the spell, from Tyr rejecting it, or some outside influence. Given when Tyr began to fall ill—the night of Twilight’s gala to celebrate her Awakening—Velvet didn’t know how anypony could have meddled. Tyr had been like glue to Cadence and Shining, only leaving their sight for a brief trip to get ice-cream from the kitchen with Whisper and the other fillies before the ceremony.
No, Velvet was almost certain that the cause was Tyr herself.
It had been wrong to foster her, no matter Celestia’s fears. Fears that Velvet knew were not unfounded from first-hoof experience.
“What are you thinking about?”
Velvet, startled out of her ruminations, lost hold of the divination with it shattering as if a pane of glass struck by a stone.
Putting on a smile for Tyr’s benefit, Velvet leaned down and kissed her just in front of the horn. Tyr tensed at the soft touch, seeming to have to force herself to relax.
“I was just thinking about my past.”
“You’ve been telling the story to the others again, haven’t you?” Tyr crossed her hooves and pouted. “It’s supposed to be my story, not theirs.”
Caught off guard by her complaint, Velvet could only laugh. “Your story? I’m pretty sure it’s mine, little princess.”
Tyr gave her head a violent shake, or as violent as she dared before her eyes started to spin and she grew dizzy. “Nope. It’s mine now. You offered it to me, remember? You can’t take back an offering.”
Laughter growing, a wonderful, easy sound that lightened her worries, Velvet sat down on her usual cushion next to Tyr’s bed. “Well, how about I tell you what you missed, and promise not to tell the story anymore unless you’re around? Does that sound fair?”
“I suppose that is acceptable,” Tyr decided after thinking it over, then jabbed a hoof at Velvet. “Just… Stop leaving me out. My cousins used to do that. Especially the Muses. It… I like having a proper family, for a change.”
“Well, I am sure they miss you and are very worried for you.”
Tyr let out a snort and shook her head. It was with sad, pitying eyes that she turned to Velvet and said, “You ponies don’t know real alicorns very well. Celestia is close, but even she is so… nice and friendly. Only… Only Authea was like that, back home. All the others, even the ones who thought they were good, they weren’t.”
Sensing a chance to learn more of Tyr’s past, Velvet prodded for more, asking, “You don’t speak of the others often. Is this why?”
Tyr almost answered, but caught herself and just shook her head once more as she clamped her mouth shut.
The moment was gone and opportunity lost. Instead of pressing for more, Velvet recounted what she’d told the others while Tyr had slept, sparing no detail.
Sunfall Stone is an old place of great magic and wonder. It is said that in the first age, when Marelantis was but a little village and the disc was young, there lived a poet who wrote verses of such beauty that it made Sol herself weep. The tears streamed behind her as she flew that day. When night came and Selene rose, the moon was shocked to find herself surrounded by her sister’s tears. She prodded one of the golden lights and it fell, landing in the north. The others stayed behind, and they became the stars.
—Yes, I know that’s not true, Tyr, and the stars are not the sun’s tears. It’s just a legend.—
There is another tale, this one of a battle in another land and far more recent—as the disc reckons things. The ponies, far from the taiga, were at war with the griffons. Against their elder’s wishes, Celestia and Luna took up arms and lead the pony armies. It was the first time all three tribes had ever worked together, putting aside their differences as unicorns, pegasi, and Earth ponies. During the battle Celestia met a great lord of the demons.
High into the sky they fought, and those that watched trembled in fear as their blows threatened to crack the disc itself. Each time they met thunder crackled and fire fell like rain. Celestia was young and the demon was old, and in the end experience won out.
Sol howled when Celestia fell, for the sun felt the princess’ pain, and when the demon cut off her wing, so too was a piece of Sol broken free. This piece tumbled from the sky unnoticed among the blinding flash of anger she gave off. With a resounding bang heard from one end of the Taiga to the other, it landed on the edge of Lake Babine.
There it sits still, a giant stone of striking yellow that hums with lingering magic.
Next to Sunfall Stone sits the Great Lodge of the Ravens. Much like Gamla Uppsala had once been the center for the Lions, Sunfall Stone was the greatest repository for the Ravens, holding a library to rival the Royal Archives. Unlike the lodge in Reinalla, Sunfall Stone was not a place of teaching. Few apprentices ever set hoof in it’s halls, and the masters that make it their home spend their time either overseeing the continual copying of the lodge’s texts, or sequestered in their laboratories experimenting. Their only other task was administrating the other branch lodges, deciding which masters would preside over the teaching lodges such as in Reinalla, for instance.
The Great Lodge was not aptly named. While the library held a vast store of books, it was small and cramped, with texts overflowing from shelves to spill into untended piles. Likewise, the laboratories were nothing like those seen among the universities of ponykind, but ancient things with cobweb and dust covered shelves, and broken aparati shoved into corners and forgotten. The masters and journeyhalla were a good sort, but their minds were not concerned overly by the state of their lodge.
After three weeks hard travel, we stood on a low hill overlooking Sunfall Stone, smiles on our faces as we saw our destination at last. On the north side of the stone itself, across from the lodge, sat a camp. A sea of tents all in circles and swirls covered the ground, with torches and bonfires already lit. Patrols marched around the edges, and from within rose the din of mixed conversation and smiths tending forges. A wide path slithered its way towards the heart of the camp where a large, scarlet command tent stood dominating over the assembly.
The halla along the path were silent as we entered. Many held hollow, haunted gazes. I would soon learn that they were from herds that had not heeded the Queen’s warning.
When we reached the central tent we found the Triplets waiting. Though it had only been a few months, it felt as if an age had passed since I’d last seen them. I broke into a canter at the sight of them and only slowed so I wouldn’t knock White over.
After I nuzzled each in turn, I asked, “River, how is she?”
“She is in Master Wind’s care; hidden and safe,” White confirmed before she took on a grave face. “Velvet, we were about to break camp.”
“We’d started to lose hope of your arrival,” added Violet.
In their usual, rolling method, it was Red who spoke next. “When Growler informed us—”
“Growler? He’s alive?!” I grabbed at Red, having to stand high on my hind hooves to look her in the eyes.
“In the tent, but—”
I ignored the rest of White’s words as I burst into the tent, my heart a flurry and a tremor in my hooves. Inside, I found a high table with a map of the north-western reaches spread across its surface and small figurines set about. Around the table stood a group of Bear masters.
But I had eyes for only one halla. Growler stood contemplating the map as he listened to one of the masters speak. He wore his old armour, dented and scarred from the cave-in that had separated us, with the helm of a Grand Bear placed before him. But that was nothing to the wounds on his face. In the flickering light of torches I saw that, of his right antler, only a jagged stump remained. Scars, pink and puffy, radiated outward across Growler’s muzzle and down his throat. Over his eye was a soiled bandage.
“What of the…” Growler began, but his voice trailed off as his eye darted up to me. All chatter died down, the masters turning to see what had grabbed Growler’s attention. Slowly, he walked around the table, his face unreadable beneath the scars.
“Dwemëu,” was all he said before he leaned down and embraced me. “I thought you lost for certain.”
Trembling with barely contained joy, I buried my face into his mane and responded with a free laugh. “Sylph said you’d died in the collapse.”
I shook as Growler let out a chuckle. “I nearly did. As I was laying there in the dark, wishing I could hold you a final time, I was visited by that ghost from the entrance hall. She led me around the draugen and back to the surface.” He squeezed tighter, then let me go so he could smile down on me. “Not a day has gone by that I have not regretted letting you go without me through that crypt.”
“You couldn’t follow,” I pointed out, glowing with joy as I stretched up to kiss him again.
“That does not make it infuriate me any less.” He was about to add more, but a cough from the table drew our attention.
“If you two are going to rut, do it on your own time. We have a war to plan.” Snowflame growled as she tapped a hoof on the table’s edge, my face turning a cherry pink at her vulgarity. “If you wish to join us, Master Velvet, you may.”
I nodded my assent, hardly taking notice of the title, one I’d grow used to hearing over the next few weeks. At that moment, all I could look at or think about was Growler. Much of the meeting is a haze of arguing over minutia that didn’t interest me. Which herds could be trusted, disposition of forces, and such things. What I gathered was that the a call had been put out for any who were loyal to the Queen to gather, and the forces at Sunfall were those that had answered.
It was an odd collection of wandering herds, much like those we’d met on our journey from Ironbark Vale to Sunfall Stone, and coteries of Bears. There were many Wolves as well, lead by a Master Wolf standing to one side.
My thoughts were pulled out of their hazy dream when Growler gave a sharp nod at whatever had last been said, then asked the Triplets, “What of the dryads? How do they fare?”
“Weak still. It is not natural for them to be so far from their groves.” White frowned and glanced away from me. “The effort of stemming the rot is also taking its toll.”
“Rot?” I looked to the Triplets for answers.
Snowflame spat to one side, her face twisted into a revolted sneer. “The Diamond Dogs’ first attack was against the dryads. Only a few escaped their grove as their hugreltren—heart-trees, Tyr—burned. Many of them died trying to put out the fires, cut down like they were rats in a Badger’s cache. We only know as my war party stumbled across and rescued the survivors. They refuse to speak on the matter further than to say that they must tend the forest. Bloody nonsense if you ask me.”
“Nonsense? Pah! The trees have been dying as if they lost the will to live.” Growler slammed a hoof onto the table so the map and little pieces on it jumped. “The rot is spreading. To kill a single dryad is heinous enough.” Growler shook his head and let out a slow sigh between his teeth. “But to slaughter an entire grove? The hounds have gone too far. Raiding is one thing. Attacking the forest spirits with such brazen disregard is insanity… And that is not the worst of it.”
At the first mention of the dryads my joy had begun to wane, overtaken by dread. By the time they were done my blood ran as cold as a glacier fed stream.
Growler nodded to one of the pieces on the map, a dog figure in armour, holding a spear, and painted bright red. “They are marching north, burning and pillaging as they go. From what we can tell it is the First Vale to which they head. It’s the only place of note in that direction.”
“Surely they are not so mad as to attack the First Vale itself?” I exclaimed, searching the faces of those present for reassurance. I found none. “The tree is the font of all life. To kill it… it would be to kill everyone. Halla, pony, and diamond dog.”
Growler shook his head again, but did not answer as he didn’t have one to give. Snowflame made a noise a bit like a sneer mixed with clearing her throat. “Who can say what the dogs plans and goals may be. The simple fact is that the bastards are burning and slaughtering with a recklessness not seen since the last era.”
“All the west is in turmoil. More and more Diamond Dogs spill out of their warrens every day. They amass to the north, their numbers growing by the hour,” added Thistle, spitting to one side in disgust that was felt around the table. “It is to be war, and we are unprepared. Too many herds are scattered, or head to the cities seeking answers. Our numbers are not what we had hoped, even with the Ironbarks. Worse, they have the lead on us. We will have to march hard to reach the First Vale in time.”
“We have allowed ourselves to become too complacent,” agreed Holm Mountain, his voice behind me the first indication he’d joined. With an apology he pushed his way forward, the other Halla having to shuffle to make room. The tent had grown rather crowded. “We Bears have let our ranks dwindle and be spread thin. The Wolves are not equipped nor trained to deal with war, though they have spirit and have sworn to fight.” There was a murmur of agreement, the Masters nodding their heads in approval towards the solitary master Wolf present, watching quiet from a corner. “As for the the Ravens, why, they hide in their halls more and more. Even now, with our army encamped on their very doorstep, none can be bothered to poke their nose out. When we depart none of them will join our march.”
The triplets sighed and gave Holm a sour look. In their usual way of sharing words, they said, “The Ravens do support you, but we wizards have to be more careful. We see things you do not. There are forces at work, ancient and crafty, beyond—”
“No, Master Mountain is correct,” snapped Snowflame. “You lot could do more, now. The half dozen who followed you from Reinalla is a pathetic number next to the thousands of Halla gathered here.”
The triplets shook their heads in erie unison, with Red saying, “Deniability must be maintained in case the signs have been read wrong. And to keep the Eagle’s eyes turned elsewhere.”
“’Signs’? ‘Deniability’? Pah. Ravens, you lot can’t be trusted.” Snowflame snarled at the Triplets. For a moment I wondered if she was about to attack them, her eyes filled with a deep loathing and hooves scuffing the bare earth.
She would have said more, and all progress lost as the meeting devolved into argument and foalish threats, if not for Growler.
“Silence!” He roared, his voice seeming to make the tent tremble and the very air grow still in respect. “What the Ravens chose we can not control. As we can not control those herds who wrap themselves in hatred and despair as if it were a blanket and follow the Eagle’s path. These so-called Loyalists who claim the Queen murdered their fawns… We can not control their hearts. No, we must look to each other now, for the nights ahead will be long and dark, and even the days will carry a terrible weight.”
Growler turned his attention to the Wolf Master, who’d long been silent. “Master—What was her name... I should remember, we talked for leagues… This is going to bother me, now. I’ll call her Coast for the story—you will have as many of your wolves as you need to secure the fawns passage south. They must be taken to safety. The rest of us, we will head to the First Vale and protect it from the rabid dogs.”
Master Coast inclined her head and then slipped out of the tent to start her preparations.
“If no halla else has anything more to add, let us adjourn to our herds and enjoy this last evening. We have leagues of forest and tundra to cross. It will be best to leave with our hearts filled with lingering joy, not dread.”
No disagreements were voiced, and the meeting was adjourned. Growler and I left with Master Thistle to join those Halla from Cherry Blossom Vale. Winding our way through the camp, I noticed a slight divide between those halla from the vales and those of the wandering herds. Nothing animus, but while the halla of the Vales sang and feasted with carefree hearts, there was a weight to the revellers among the wanderers.
Muttered whispers of envy reached my ears from the wanderers, words of loss and self-recrimination, asking why they’d ignored the Queen’s warning.
I was further surprised to see not a single Eagle among their number. Later I would learn that they, and any who stood with them, had been banished from the herds for ignoring the warnings and allowing the curse to reap such a terrible toll. Those halla joined with the herds that refused to see sense and held to their hatred and fear.
With the Cherries, as they’d started to be known by the other herds and vales, we found Sylph and our make-shift herd from Gur Moloch. The Ironbarks were not too far away, and, around a series of great bonfires, we celebrated the halla version of the Summer Sun Festival with singing, dancing, contests, and mead.
Leaning against Growler, I was filled with a warmth that could rarely be matched. My laughter was free for the first time in months and all the dread of the journey since leaving Cherry Blossom Vale melted away. It seemed like all would be right, that the greatest trials were behind us, and we’d survived.
We were not unscarred, of course. But they didn’t weigh on us.
Spaces had been cleared for wrestling, with many taking the opportunity to show off for pretty young hinds or settle old scores with rivals. The sharp crack of antlers striking was mixed with bugling and the cheers for the victors. After a while, the wrestling began to die down as the feasts appeared and the mead flowed freely. From where it came, I can not say. Some secret of the Badger brew-masters, no doubt.
So, the feast progressed, and Sylph sang until her throat grew raw and she had to sit down.
Into a lull stepped Sombra.
Growler was speaking to a runner from another herd, attending to some matter or other, while Sylph had joined the Triplets, a happy buzz of chatter circling them. His eye lingered on Sylph a few moments, then in a gruff tone said, “There are some matters we must discuss, in private.”
Curious, and a little fuzzy in my thoughts from all the mead I’d consumed, I just nodded and followed along. Sombra took me to a quiet spot a short distance from the Cherries, between some tents where we could have some relative privacy.
“Moondream has a question she wishes me to ask you.” Sombra paused, waiting for me to turn my full attention to him. “She asks; What is best in life?”
“Huh? You took me over here for that silly question? It’s…” My voice drained away as a sufficient answer failed to present itself.
Sombra had anticipated my faltering and nodded towards where Growler and the others sat, laughing at some joke one of them had made. I felt a surge of pride seeing the respect granted to him by all that passed, every Halla stopping to bow their heads to the Grand Bear.
A position elected by deed and necessity alone, Growler had earned the title when he’d emerged from Gamla Uppsala carrying the Queen’s sheers. Every master among Bear Lodge, all far older, deferred to him. I was so proud watching him deal with issue after issue, often with a frustrated roll of his beautiful brown eye.
“I think… this is what’s best in life,” I said, indicating with a hoof the entire camp. “To spend a perfect night with those you love and respect. To sing and dance and to know neither fear nor worry.”
“A fair answer.” From the look on his face, I could tell he didn’t think much of it, one way or the other. He was a stallion on a mission, and it wouldn’t have mattered what I’d told him. “I would have once answered that the best thing in life was to crush the enemies of ponykind. To drive them from our lands and in so doing, shower prestige, wealth, and power onto my House.
“Later, I would have said that it was to take from those who were unworthy. To make their power your own, and in so doing, gain the strength to reshape my Fate. An idiotic notion whispered into my ear by… Well, the who is not important. I went down the same dark road you’ve been wandering, Velvet Sparkle. I cavorted with Demons, gleefully. The Marquis of Fate, he twisted my pride and envy, and though I could have turned my back on his lies and returned to Sol’s light and Selene’s grace, I did not.” Sombra took a deep breath, and glanced down at the crystal in his chest. “Do not repeat my mistakes. Waking Iridia may save your daughter. She may spare the Halla. But many in the north will die as she consolidates her hold. Then all of pony kind will suffer.”
“That is not my problem,” I snarled in reply, my hackles raised along with my voice. “The Queen must be freed, and I will command or bargain with any being necessary to save my daughter.” I tapped the side of my head. “These runes I thought a curse, they are a blessing. So yes, if I must make a bargain with Leviathan herself to save my daughter, I would. Thankfully, I do not.”
“Be wary of the bargains that you make, Velvet Sparkle.” Sombra gave me a long, piercing stare. “Especially those made with demons.”
I made a noncommittal grunt, my ears pressed back. “What about the Archons?”
Sombra threw back his head as he let out a long peel of laughter. “Them? They care not a whit what happens outside Elysium. Only a fool or the truly desperate would seek to deal with that lot. Next you’ll say you’d command Abaddon to fight for you! Ha-ha!”
“Maybe—”
—Stop squirming, Tyr, I’m almost done with this portion, then we can discuss things.—
“Maybe I could! I am supposed to be The Sorceress, after-all.”
“That,” Sombra waggled a threatening hoof in front of my nose, “is a title no sane pony who understood the meanings would ever seek to claim. No good has ever been wrought by a sorceress. The sorceresses of Marelantis are the direct cause of so much evil on Ioka.
“I do not know why, but Moondream has faith in you. She says she knows you will do what is right.” He rose to his hooves, a little unsteady and began to stagger towards his tent, muttering to himself all the while. “We are nearly there,” he grunted as he pushed open the flap. “Almost finished, Moondream. Then everything will be made as it should have been.”
Crawling out from her bundle of covers, much like a fox exiting her warren in spring, Tyr fixed Velvet with a fierce stare. “Where? How did you hear those names?” She leaned closer to Velvet, fire flashing in her eyes.
“I told you, I’m the Sorceress. I know many names I shouldn’t.”
“Well… Maybe… But those are names mortals shouldn’t know. At all.” Tyr gave her head a vigorous shake, her little hooves playing with the hem of her covers. She bit her lower lip and looked away. Velvet was about to return to her story, when Tyr blurted out, “Are there really demons on Ioka? Not just part of your story, but really here?”
Taken aback by the raw need in the question for Velvet to deny, to say that it was all part of her story, it took a moment for an answer to form.
“Not since the Age of Chaos. The last Lord of Tartarus was—”
“Lord of Tartarus?” Tyr snorted and rolled her eyes. “Tartarus is their prison. Uncle… Um…” A deep breath was followed by a rattling sigh. “Tartarus is the domain of my… uh… Great Uncle?” Tyr scrunched up her face, and her hooves moved as if she were counting. “No, Uncle. But not. It’s really complicated with him. He rules Tartarus and serves as it’s King and Warden, keeping the really nasty things contained.”
“And does this uncle have a name?” Velvet prodded.
“Yes, but I don’t want to say it. His isn’t a name you should say, like… those others you mentioned.” Bringing a hoof to her muzzle and leaning forward, Tyr added in a whisper, “They can hear you when you say their names. Just like Alicorns.”
Velvet puffed out her chest a little. “Well, let them listen. They will know I’m not afraid of them, then.”
“You… really aren’t afraid, are you?” Tyr brow pinched together in confusion as she searched Velvet’s face. “Why?”
“Think back to when I mentioned the Black Runes and Algol, the Demon Star, and Shining’s reaction. Demons are mentioned often in the Holy Books, yes, but there hasn’t been a sighting in centuries. I’ve never encountered a demon.”
“I have. Well, a daemon, which is just a demon that’s switched allegiance to an alicorn. A Slaughter Daemon… it captured me the night I lost my old family. It…” Tyr began to tremble, her voice strained and her gaze dropping to her hooves. Velvet reached over to give the filly a hug. Tense, Tyr ducked away from Velvet. “My guardians… it killed them. Crushed them under its hooves. I sometimes still hear their bodies popping. It was carrying me along a hallway and through a window I saw two alicorns locked in battle crash in the distance. There was a wave of light from where they landed, and then I was waking up in that field in the forest. I thought at first that Artemis had rescued me somehow and carried me to safety… But it wasn’t her. Just some pegasus. And now I am here.”
Velvet was silent as Tyr bared her heart. Curious, Velvet concentrated on the magic binding Tyr again, to see how it was reacting. The sight took her breath away. The spell was at war with itself, flares bursting along the golden strands in red-hot sparks. In places the corrupt portions shrank away as something deeper within fought back, while in others it seemed to gain a greater hold.
“What are you doing?” Tyr asked, followed by a long series of racking coughs.
Hoof moving in slow motions along Tyr’s back, with care taken to avoid the scars where her wings had once been, Velvet hushed Tyr. Mouth starting to open to repeat the question, Tyr’s stopped, eyes half lidded, a noise similar to a cat’s purr rumbling in her throat.
“Ooo, that is good.” Tyr melted into her sheets, and soon she was fast asleep.
Velvet sat with Tyr a while longer, until Shining arrived to take her place. During her vigil Velvet watched the strands continue to fight. By the time she left, Velvet was certain that, little by little, the spell was falling to a corruption.
Clouds still heavy in the sky, Velvet retreated to her study, and there she pulled out a box hidden in her desk by means magical and mundane.
It was a plain looking box of pine bereft of ornamentation. Many would have considered it blasphemous that such a simple thing, kept in a warded nook, should hold something of such importance. For inside sat the Dreamer’s Crystal on a folded scrap of cloth. The crystal was cracked deep, its once rainbow hues now grey and palid.
Yet, power remained. A lingering trace that crackled across Velvet’s tongue like licorice tarts. It wasn’t much, just a mere memory imprinted in the crystal itself, residue left from when the crystal was damaged.
Velvet took the crystal from its box and placed it on the desktop.
“What would you have done, old dragon?” she asked the crystal. “Would you have attempted to undue Celestia’s flawed work? Or would you have accepted Tyr’s fate?” A long sigh rattled between her teeth as she pondered the dead crystal. “How I wish I had listened to your advice. I was brash, young, and so foolish. I miss you. I miss all of you.”
A knock on her door made Velvet jump, her hooves scrambling to hide the Dreamer’s Crystal before she called out, “Enter.”
Mr. Cane poked his head into the room, a worried pinch at the corner of his mouth. He stood there for a few moments, his wing ruffled as he snapped his tail back and forth.
“My Lady, Princess Luna’s chariot has been spotted approaching from the west.”
Velvet sat up straighter at once, much like a filly that had been caught day-dreaming in class. With precise, practiced motions, the crystal was put away, the wards replaced and the panel hidden. With only a few moments spared to brush her mane, Velvet almost ran down the stairs and out onto the entrance landing. She was just in time to watch the midnight blue and silver chariot wheel around the manor in a long, lazy descent, one no-doubt intended to allow the manor time to prepare.
There was a moment of panic as she noticed that she stood alone, her family and staff no where to be seen. It was as the chariot lined up with the paved lane that they all rushed out, hurried along by Glitterdust and Mrs. Hardtack.
Dust was kicked up as the chariot came in for a smooth landing, Luna hardly jostled on her seat as it rolled stop at the base of the steps. The entire household bowed together while Luna skipped down, head held in a high, officious angle.
With a wave of her hoof, Luna bid them to rise. There was a happy glimmer in her eyes as she addressed Velvet. “Baroness Sparkledale, it is a pleasure. My apologies for arriving unannounced, but I was overcome with the desire to spend some more time with my family. Where is Cadence? I don’t sense her presence.”
She twisted to peer along either side of the manor as if expecting Cadence to round the corners at any moment. A ruse Velvet saw through at once, and whose purpose she couldn’t discern.
“Your Royal Highness, Princess Cadence left last night to speak with an acquaintance of hers. We don’t expect her back for a day or two, at least, ma’am.”
Velvet kept her head held down at a respectful angle as she spoke. While Luna had softened in the years since her redemption, she still stood the most on protocol. Especially from the nobility.
Trotting past the Sparkles and the manor’s staff, Luna bidded Velvet to join her with a wave of her wing. Despite never having been in the manor before, Luna navigated it with ease, her course set straight for a Tyr’s room.
“I noticed that Tyr was not present just now.” Luna’s tone was firm, but cold, a hint of displeasure tensing the corner of her jaw. She stopped just outside Tyr’s room, and fixed Velvet with a piercing look, one that made the matron step back and gulp. “I have been informed somewhat of her condition, but I would like a second account. Spare no detail. Afterwards, I will examine the filly myself and see what mess my sister has created.”
“Perhaps we should go to my study? This could take some time, ma’am.” Velvet indicated the way, and was thankful when, after a hesitant glance towards the door, Luna nodded agreement. “I’ll have tea brought up at once, ma’am. You must be parched after such a long ride.”
“Acai berry, if you have it, and you have my gratitude,” Luna said as she followed Velvet to the Red Salon.
Velvet took a deep breath as they reached her study, and, once the tea arrived, they settled in for a long discussion. Much like Cadence that morning, Velvet spared no detail.