Velvet Sparkle and the Queen in Stone
By Tundara
Part Eleven
The Great Ape Jungle stretched in an almost endless green carpet below Cadence. She was deep into the jungle’s heart, where three rivers converged in a vast expanse of rolling hills that was all but impossible to reach by hoof. Even flying wasn’t without its dangers. Somewhere below, the jungle’s true masters watched her, tracking every movement with bow and bola.
Cadence wasn’t worried about the hidden eyes, not with Penumbra resting against her side. Even without her old sword, she wouldn’t have been concerned, as a half dozen phoenixes and a large paradiso had taken to flying around her. Though not a superstitious pony herself, even Cadence took the birds for a good omen.
Juveniles, the phoenixes swooped and darted in acrobatic games while their mother, a truly old hen nearing her next cycle, watched Cadence and the paradiso from high above, gliding on the afternoon thermals.
The paradiso was a glorious specimen, with flowing tail feathers that danced like an aurora, and a small curved beak of alabaster. A plume on his crest showed him as a young bird, and there was a happiness to his blue eyes that reminded Cadence of Shining. He didn’t stay with Cadence for long, their paths diverging at the hills. Cadence dipped her wings in parting as it turned to the south, and he returned the gesture, his warble trailing her long after he’d disappeared from sight. She took his short company as a blessing, and let it fan the hope that ahead lay the answers she desperately needed.
Rounding a bend, Cadence had her first view of her destination; the lost city of Phoenicia.
Ruins, crumbled and choked by the jungle, lay strewn along the banks of the river valley. Few of the structures remained, only the old palace, library, and temple weathered the centuries and encroaching jungle. Here and there sat the city’s old statue guardians, bright paint flaking and broken limbs or missing heads strewn about what had once been wide lanes. Now only beasts called the once glorious city home.
Following the river towards its source led to a waterfall gushing out from the side of a cliff. A few quick flaps raised Cadence above the rim, revealing it to be a plateau wedged between the base of two short mountains. Little streams bubbled down the mountains’ sides towards the plateau’s heart and dropped into a great sinkhole. The jungle just fell away there, as if into a colossal hoofprint, one stretching a league across and a hundred hooflengths deep.
A slight dip in one wing brought Cadence into a slow, lazy turn above the rim. Along the walls clung Phoenicia in terraces and steep roads that switched back on themselves. Jungle vines and thick foliage obscured much of the city, hanging down in green curtains over the white limestone walls. What was not covered was crafted in such a way as to vanish under all but close scrutiny.
At that moment, the city appeared deserted, the narrow roads emptied but for a few cats taking the opportunity to sun themselves.
The basin floor was filled with fields of golden wheat, granaries made to look like giant termite mounds sticking up like lumpy clay towers. The city’s ancient founders had brought the seeds, as well as those for date and olive trees, from their original homes far to the north. Through the fields ran streams like glistening snakes, feeding into a lake of purest blue.
The only obvious building within the entire sinkhole sat on a small island at the exact center of the basin. Scavenged from the old ruins, crenulated white marble columns held aloft a roof of polished gold, with veins of obsidian forming six glyphs.
More phoenixes rose from the city, a cloud of oranges and reds whirling around Cadence as she began her approach. Named for the birds, the city had been built amid their ancient nesting grounds. Long before the city’s founding, and continuing on to this day, the phoenixes filled the basin with their songs and pranks, flitting from their nests or bathing at the base of the waterfalls.
In the northern fields a small structure caught Cadence’s eye. Beneath a curved roof sat a large pony, white coat glistening and ruddy red mane hanging in a plait down one side of her neck.
Curious, Cadence tipped her wings and swung towards the fields. She landed with a soft thump on a cobbled lane. The air was warm and humid so deep in the bowl, and Cadence took a moment to enjoy the change from the cold, hard air above.
With the phoenixes still forming an escort of sorts, Cadence trotted down the lane, taking care to avoid the ruts worn over the centuries by wagons trundling along the same precise path. Long before reaching it, Cadence realised it was a shrine.
A simple roof covered statue with an offering plate at its base, the shrine was used to beseech a blessing on the harvest. Resting on the plate was a sprig of the previous harvest, along with a few gold coins and a true sapphire formed naturally in the wilds.
Cadence paused at the statue. An effigy of her grandmother, the statue wore a broad, painted smile. Its pose was almost unnatural, sitting as it was on folded hindlegs, a staff with six rings attached to a hoop gripped in one hoof and the Book of Names held close with the other. There was a momentary hitch in Cadence’s chest at the lifelike quality. For a brief second, Cadence hoped that the statue would wink at her and laugh, that it was her grandmother in the flesh sitting at the roadside.
She’d never met the mare, of course. Faust had vanished centuries before Cadence’s birth. Faust’s disappearance was the greatest unsolved mystery on the disc. Generations of adventurers, explorers, sages, and knights had dedicated their lives to solving it without fruition.
Of course it wasn’t Faust. Cadence could sense no other alicorn in the vicinity. Where the real Faust Invictus was, she had no idea. Once, when she’d been less than a century old, Cadence had gone looking for her grandmother. Following the thin bond of potential love had lead Cadence far out over the Marelantic Ocean. There’d been no islands or ships, just a vast, heaving ocean beneath deathly still air.
Offering a silent prayer and one of her feathers to the statue, Cadence moved onward.
While there were no alicorns, there was someone in the city.
Someone ancient and powerful, whose presence set Cadence’s teeth aching.
At the lake’s edge was a short dock, a lonely little boat tethered to the worn planks. Trotting to the edge, she took flight once more, a few strong beats carrying her over the tranquil water. Hooves skipped over the loose stones comprising the shore. A short way from where she’d landed were steps leading up to the temple proper.
Every moment made the unpleasant sensation grow until Cadence’s wings fluffed and ruffled of their own accord by the time she set hoof on the stone dock. The phoenixes had stopped at the far shore, sitting in the boughs of an old, scraggly tree where they chirped and watched Cadence slowly ascend the steps to the small temple.
She hesitated at the temple’s edge, peering past the tall columns and through the open doors at the shadowy interior. Frescos of Faust covered the walls, one for each of the Elements of Harmony as they’d been known in ancient times; Loyalty, Honour, Compassion, Laughter, and Generosity. In each she was portrayed exemplifying the virtue. Benches were placed before each of the murals for the faithful to use while meditating.
Short steps lead to a flat dias in the temple’s center. Motes of dust danced in a thin beam of light that illuminated a black and white mound of feathers.
Beneath their lustrous sheen the feathers hid the disc’s sole archon. Not just any archon, either, but one of the Seraphim. Among the most powerful entities in all creation, striding side-by-side with the likes of Celestia, Discord, and Leviathan. By rights a Queen of Queens, with entire choirs of lesser archons at her command. Why she had yet to leave Ioka puzzled even Celestia. It was not like a seraph to stray from Elysium, let alone remain on the disc.
And, if the gentle stirring of her feathers were any indications, she was about to awaken whether Cadence was prepared or not. Tongue darting out to lick her lips, Cadence glanced over her wings to the city and sky beyond. There was still time to leave and go home.
Cadence began to take a step back, only to halt.
There was no pony else who’d have the answer she sought. Except perhaps Faust herself. But if Cadence had any inkling of where her grandmother had secluded herself, she’d have gone there first.
A deep breath settled the last of her doubts. Cadence squared her wings, forcing her feathers to settle, and, with Penumbra’s comforting weight along her side, she marched forward.
“Abaddon,” Cadence called, surprising herself with the steel in her voice.
The feather’s twitched, a seam opening in their length to reveal a single golden eye. “Well, well, this is a surprise. Little swan, why do you disturb my slumber?”
Cadence stood up straight as if she’d been slapped.
“Don’t call me… that,” Cadence spat.
“You are what you are, and that is a little swan, honking and creating a racket around those trying to rest.” Abaddon made a dismissive shrug of one wing. “I have issues of greater import than you to contemplate.”
“You’ve been wallowing here for thirty years!” Abaddon’s eye widened as Cadence set a hoof on the bottom most step of the dias. “When we met, you described yourself as the ‘Righteous Destroyer’, sent to correct great wrongs.”
“Your point being?”
Cadence advanced another step. “I need to undo a mistake.”
“And you think to demand my assistance? That you can march into my sanctuary and order me, Abaddon, into compliance? What gall you have, little swan. With a wave of my wings I could reduce cities to ash. A stamp of my hooves crack the disc. To look upon me is to look upon the inferno of creation, and you seek to command me?”
The Indignation flowing from Abaddon only served to steel Cadence’s resolve.
“Oh, please, you think I haven’t heard such bluster before?” Cadence rolled her eyes and took to the final step. “My mother was Nightmare Moon. I couldn’t pass the salt without some threat about mountains tumbling or night eternal.”
It took a moment for Abaddon to respond, and when she did it was with a laugh. A happy, joyous laugh that floated like butterflies.
“I don’t see what’s so amusing.”
“Nothing, and everything,” Abaddon choked out between a few, last giggles. “Very well, what is this mistake you seek to correct?”
All at once Cadence’s anger collapsed, broken beneath cleansing relief. So much lighter with its absence, she still had to marshall her resolve, but hope that a solution was within reach was enough to sustain her.
Explaining everything about Tyr’s situation would have taken more time than Cadence was willing to give. Sticking to the pertinent points, Cadence described the decision to Foster Tyr, the subsequent illness, and the discovery of the corruption spreading through the spell.
“‘It is not the mistakes of their lives that define mortals, but whether they seek to overcome and correct those mistakes’,” Abaddon said to herself when Cadence was finished.
A wing lifted, and a curved horn poked out through the fold. Bronze hued magic danced along the spiral grooves until it reached the tip and leapt forth onto the stone at Cadence’s hooves. The magic twisted around itself, etching a rune into the floor. “That is my rune, Abael. With it you can correct your mistake.”
“A single rune won’t heal Tyr,” Cadence said. She stared at the rune nonetheless, searing it into her mind and memory.
“No, it will not.” Abaddon’s wings closed, hiding her eye and horn once more. “Show it to The Sorceress. She will know its use.”
“Thank you.” Cadence gave a little bow before turning to leave.
As she readied to take flight, Abaddon called after her. “Take care with Abael, brave swan. I do not share her often with good reason.”
“We will,” Cadence replied before rising up and pulling together a spell to bring her home.
A gentle clatter of cups echoed within Velvet’s study, the warm scent of spiced teas heavy in the air.
Velvet had just finished describing the corruption of the magic that bound Tyr. By any measure the spell was more curse than blessing, taking Tyr’s nature and twisting it into something almost unrecognizable. That there were benefits did not negate that.
Quiet as she contemplated the purple dregs in the bottom of her cup, Luna turned over everything she’d heard.
What Velvet described, the warring between magics of gold and ruby, was not the spell Luna remembered. Unlike Velvet, Luna did not accept for a moment that it was the spell at war with itself. There was an outside influence involved, eating away, corrupting, and turning what should have been a protection into an insidious weapon.
Luna had encountered similar corruption before, but never to a spell as powerful as Fostering. It shouldn’t have been possible, but not only had Cadence claimed as such, Velvet had seen it as well. Luna was certain that it was also the cause of Celestia’s absence.
Huffing into her tea, Luna stretched out a cramp in her wing.
“I am glad I came even more now.” Luna put the empty cup aside.
“You were getting lonely in Canterlot, weren’t you?” The question slipped past Velvet’s teeth before she fully realised she was speaking.
Luna’s eyes widened, then she let out a little chuckle.
“The castle is very… empty, right now. First Cadence, then Twilight, and now Celestia are all off doing Mother-knows-what. Archons, ships, and off to the disc’s edge. A mare starts to feel left out. At least I’ve been able to occupy myself training Twilight’s new guards. Her Majesty has been some company as well… And now I’ve left her alone… In Canterlot… During the Season no less…”
With a fwump Luna melted onto her cushion, laying her chin atop her folded hooves.
“My only consolation is that she’s always out of it this time of year as she tends to the Font and won’t notice my sudden absence.”
The admission caught Velvet like a heavy blow, leaving her sputtering for words. Did she try to comfort Luna? A preposterous idea, one not helped by their relative unfamiliarity with each other. Though their eldest foals were married, Velvet and Luna had never sat down and just talked with each other.
It wasn’t that there was some wall between them. She felt no compulsion to stay her tongue. Rather, they’d simply never had cause to socialize. Velvet knew Luna less as a pony, or even monarch, and more as an image printed upon the morning post. All that she was certain of was how the Princess would despise being pitied.
Settling on ignoring Luna’s moment of vulnerability, Velvet started to turn to the window, only to have an oddity catch her eye.
The drawer that sat above the nook hiding the Dreamer’s Crystal was pulled out ever-so-slightly. Not enough to be noticed at once, but enough for Velvet to know that somepony had opened the drawer.
Breath catching in her throat, she yanked the drawer out to check on the wards and hidden box. There had been an attempt to crack the protective magics, one that hadn’t been able to overcome the far more cunning preparations she’d made to protect her treasure. Unlike the spell she’d used to keep the children out of Tyr’s room, this ward was far, far more nuanced and stable. Not some hap-hazzard mesh tossed together with hardly an after-thought.
Relaxing as she set the box down, Velvet sighed in short lived relief. A polite cough behind her reminded her of her guest.
“Is something the matter?” Luna waved a hoof towards the box.
“Ah, no, I don’t believe so,” was Velvet’s quick reply, her words lacking conviction. “Well, perhaps. I was at my desk when I heard of your approach, and I know how I left the wards. To place them the drawer has to be completely closed.”
“Is the box important?”
Velvet considered if there was a way to explain the box away without admitting what was held within. All the excuses, and there were certainly many, struck Velvet as being far too weak. More-over, she was tired and if there was any pony, mortal or goddess, that would understand, it would be Princess Luna. As she’d done only an hour earlier, Velvet undid the final wards and opened the box.
A brow arched, Luna glanced within the box and gasped.
“How in Mother’s mane did you get that!?” Luna reached for the stone with a shaking hoof, only to stop and pull it back as if she’d been burned.
Snorting, Velvet passed the cracked crystal to Luna. “It is a rather long story. The short version is ‘from it’s previous owner’s chest’. I assume you know what it is?”
“I was there when it was created,” Luna hissed, a flicker of angry blue flames crackling at the corners of her eyes. “But I thought it lost along with all the others. It’s bigger than I remember… You say it is a long story? Tell me.”
“Ah, I promised not to tell it without Tyr being present, and I think the other foals would mutiny if I excluded them again.”
It was quickly decided that they would gather the rest of the family and go to the library where there was room for everypony.
The box was passed back to Velvet, and she almost started to put it away. She stopped and instead brought it with her.
Collecting Tyr from her room, it was decided to move to the library where there was the space to hold the entire family. With blankets mounded around her so that only her eyes showed, Tyr was situated on a long sofa between Velvet and Luna, with the young Sparkles spread out in a half-circle on the carpet. This was in part to be closer to Velvet, and also because the benches were claimed by the adults. As tea was brought up and served, Velvet brought everypony up to speed.
August was filled with biting flies that swarmed in clouds as our army reached the most northern frontier of the Taiga. The ground was parched and cracked with Sol bearing down on the land like a burning blight. At night, the hills to the east glowed with fires that consumed the forest, trees bursting in orange lances, the crackling of their sap reaching our ears in an oppressive din.
No longer were we lead by markers from myth, but by the swath of devastation left in the dogs wake.
I had little time to take in the burning of the forests. Upon leaving Sun Rock, I’d been elected by the twenty-nine Ravens of the army to act as their leader.
Since our talk, Sombra had grown sullen and withdrawn. He spoke little to me, and never to any of the halla except Sylph. More and more they spent time together separating themselves from the rest of the army when we camped.
It was with mild surprise, therefore, when Sombra approached me as we marched through the final night.
There was a palpable sense of danger carried on that chilly night, the disc so much colder up north, where the winds of the void first kiss Ioka’s rim. The fires were far behind, our homes even further, and only danger lurked ahead. As Sol set, our pace had picked up, guided by Selene’s light in the dark with the baggage train left behind to slowly catch up.
“Follow me,” was all Sombra said before he took me aside.
He slowed to speak, allowing the army to gradually march past.
“You should know, the dogs do not seek the Vale to control it, they mean to destroy it, and in so doing severe the disc’s ties to the Font. No more foals. Not for any race that relied on the Font.”
His words carried a dreadful certainty, one that forestalled questioning how he knew that this was the dogs’ goal.
“Is that even possible? How can the dogs destroy the Vale?”
“Destroying the Vale would be relatively easy. If it were difficult, would the Vale require a guardian and be hidden so far from the reach of any civilization? It may take more blows, but any axe can fell the tree. I would not want to be present if that were to happen. Ancient magics like the First Tree tend to react poorly to such treatment.”
“So, what was the point of these then?” I asked, indicating the sheers poking out of my saddlebags.
“And still she does not listen!” Sombra raised his head to peer up at Selene poking through the clouds. “Only She can touch the Font. Only through Her blessing can a hewn branch be preserved. Iridia Tuilerya. Springbringer. The spear that pierced winter’s frozen heart, only to have her own freeze.”
“We all learn the story of the Betrayal, Sombra.”
I was surprised when he didn’t grow angry at my impertinence, and instead continued to bask in what little of Selene’s glow snuck between the clouds hovering through the bleak night. He took a slow breath that rattled in his throat and then let out a slow, mirthless chuckle.
“Fifteen hundred years I’ve been re-assembling the shattered fragments of the Dreamer’s Stone, and rarely have I known a pony so talented to be so ignorant of the catastrophe toward which they march, save, perhaps, myself.” He darted a glance to the necklace hanging around my neck. “Nevermatter, Moondream. We near the end of our travels. It will not be long until you are whole.”
Reaching up to touch the cold stone I asked, “If this held one, then where is the other?”
Sombra at last turned to face me.
“Out of reach.” He sighed and stretched, taking slow, measured steps away. “I will miss these talks, Sorceress.” Sombra stopped, his red eyes piercing me with an intensity that seemed to peel away the layers of my soul. “You will be presented with a choice, and it is not whether to accept your title. Faust has shown me that it is your Fate to bear that mantle. She has tasked me with giving you a message, but now is not the time.”
“You claim to speak to Faust? Directly?” I snorted at the ludicrous claim.
“All ponies can hear her song if they would but listen!” He gave me a final, disgruntled glower before trudging off back along the marching lines.
That was the last time we spoke as friends.
I tried to find him in the morning, to press him about Faust’s message, only to discover that both he and Sylph had vanished. They’d been seen heading to the north-east together at a full gallop.
Ready to chase after them, I was stopped by Growler. He stood before me resolute in his righteousness.
“Out of my way.” I made to step around him, only for Growler to halt me with a few words.
“Think of River. In a few short hours we will reach the Vale and battle will be joined. You have no way of finding either of them, not in the time remaining.”
“I don’t understand why they left… We started this journey together…”
“And we shall finish it together. Together we—”
The rest of Growler’s comfort was lost, subsumed beneath a tremendous roar echoing across the trees. A shadow followed with a slow, steady thump as great swaths of burnt forest were stirred into billowing plumes of ash and smoke. Glancing up I saw her through a gap in the branches, an ancient wyrm graceful and frightening. Her green scales black as pitch in the pre-dawn light and her eyes two dull orange stars buried in her massive head.
“The guardian,” Growler and I said together.
Wings tucked to her side, she fell from the night like a piece of Sol, flames crackling around her teeth. Though we were still some miles away, every halla felt the disc shake as she landed and saw the brilliant plumes of fire in the distance.
“Hurry now, hurry!” Growler shouted to all within earshot. “We must not tarry!”
A vital surge flowed through our ranks.
On and on we rushed, nursing our reserves for the battle ahead. A battle we could make out more and more through thinning trees and fading fog.
Growler and I were the first to break the edge of the forest and look down on the great host of the Diamond Dogs.
Underneath Moloch’s banner, eighty thousand diamond dogs marched in a writhing carpet. Warbeasts hauled great siege engines, catapults and ballistae rumbling across the permafrost. Over this army presided King Selim from atop a short hillock, barely more than a mound of hard packed earth, but enough to give him a sweeping view of the numerous conscripts being herded towards their doom.
In the distance, the Vale’s guardian fought. The lances buried deep into her belly and throat only seemed to spur her anger. Billowy ribbons of fire poured from her mouth at the hordes surrounding her. A single lash of her tail enough to shatter dozens. But it would not be enough to hold the dogs at bay. Between her scales, barbed hooks caught her flesh with thick chains anchoring her to great stone blocks, holding her fast to the disc, and her wings hung in tattered ribbons.
She was dying.
“The Diamond Dogs killed a dragon?” Adamant was vibrating on his chair, leaning as close to his mother as he could. He paid no attention to Spike beside him, the drake’s claws twisted together and tail curled around his knees. “I bet they went for the fire-sacks. A sharp jab and twist and they’d pop, leaking into the—”
“Adamant, that’s enough!”
The harsh bark came from Glitterdust, all the others jumping at the force of her command. She bore down on the little colt with all the stern reprobation she could bring to bear. After years as a tailor and stage director within Manehatten’s theatre scene, dealing with pretentious prima donnas and newcomers trembling with stage fright, it was a considerable glare indeed. Perhaps greater than Velvet’s own, more so as it was even rarer.
“I’m sorry, mother,” Adamant mumbled, his drooped ears doing little to dissipate the excitement boiling off him.
After a few sniggers, Melody asked, “What happened next, mama? Please tell us.”
Adamant at once regained his bounce, a renewed grin plastered on his muzzle. “I wish I could see it!” He clapped his hooves once and jumped off his cushion, striking a pose. “You and Lord Growler standing at the head of an army, your mortal foes waiting before you down below. I bet you charged down and saved the day!”
A very slight frown tugged at the corner’s of Velvet’s mouth.
She could not deny that the battle had begun much as Adamant hoped. Growler understood the pageantry of the moment, and how to steal the hearts of his army. Her frown almost melted as she recalled the image of him addressing the halla that morning.
What followed the speech most certainly was not glory and heroics. Unaware of the motion, Velvet began to rub her left cannon, her brow knitting at half-forgotten pain. A faint scar, one of hundreds hidden beneath Velvet’s fur, was all that remained from where a spear had pierced her.
Her breaths grew short, hooves tight on the edge of the couch. Muscles tensed through her jaw as she fought back against the smells flooding up through memories of that old battlefield. The sweat and muck mingled with metallic scents and the drifting clouds of burning tar.
“Mother? Are you alright?”
The memories snapped like a branch bent too far, and Velvet returned to library with a start to find Shining at her side. His hoof hovered just above her withers, and in his eyes was a look of understanding.
“I’m sorry.” She shuddered, shedding the last remnants of the memory. “It’s been…”
Velvet took a deep breath, held it, and saw everypony watching her in worried expectation, except for Luna, Pennant, and Shining. They knew what Velvet had been through. For the others, the closest had been the changeling invasion, and that had been over very quickly, with their experience being prisoners held within the throneroom.
The eagerness in Adamant’s eyes was still bright, not replaced by confusion or worry as with his sisters. It was a look that drove a dagger of worry into Velvet’s gut, twisted by recollections of their dinner with the Revered Speaker.
All of the lies infecting her story became bitter in Velvet’s mouth. She was responsible for that look in Adamant’s eye, with her twisting of facts into fantasy. Having the foals look at her with wonder had become her goal, rather than telling the truth and seeing nothing but contempt reflected within their eyes..
“Iridia, ek heimr drottning,” Velvet growled to herself. At the raised brow’s from her family, she explained, “‘I am queen of fools.”
Sitting up straighter, Velvet looked at each pony present in turn as she said, “I am sorry. I’ve done you, and a lost friend, a disservice. It’s time to make it right.”
There was a spell to correct her mistake. It hovered at the back of her mind along with so many others unused for decades. Not because it contained any of the vile Dark Runes, but because it was a powerful spell that required a great deal of energy. On her own Velvet could only maintain it for a minute, maybe two. That would hardly be time for the speech and charge.
Shifting as she attempted to formulate a plan, Velvet bumped into the box containing the Dreamer’s Crystal, and the answer became clear.
“Well, you can tell us the truth now, can’t you?” Limelight asked, receiving nods from Glitterdust and Elegant.
“‘Share our legend’,” Velvet whispered to herself before putting on a smile. “I will do better than tell you, I will show you. This will be the truth. There will be… differences, from what I’ve told you.”
Luna clicked her tongue. “You intend to use a divination?”
Velvet gave a slight nod in reply.
“Divination?” The children shared confused glances, then leaned forward in expectation.
Withdrawing the Dreamer’s Crystal, Velvet set it down on the floor before the children.
“What’s that?” Elegant reached out a hoof to tap the crystal, a stern cough from Whisper making her stop.
There was curiosity reflected in the faces of all present, but none so much as Star. Eyes like saucers and mouth agape, she leaned towards it like a flower towards the sun.
“So much power… but sleeping…” Star let out a little purr, closing her eyes with a smile. “Can you feel it?”
“Nope,” Melody and Elegant said together with a shake of their heads, with Adamant adding a negative of his own.
“I can,” Limelight hissed, grinding her teeth and leaning away from the crystal. “It’s like biting into wool.”
Shining lifted a brow. “I’m sensing something else… More creamy…”
And so it went around the room, with such things as perfume, woodsmoke, and rain soaking through fur being noted.
“It… sings… I can hear her singing. She needs me. She needs justice, and vengeance, and…” Tyr tried to squirm free of her fluffy blanket-prison. She was prevented by Luna, the princess picking up the bundle and filly to move them to her side.
With a wing draped over Tyr, Luna gave a slight shake of her head. “What you hear is an echo, nothing more.” She gave Velvet a stern glare. “Why you would show them that… abomination, I can not fathom. It should be disposed of for good. Cast to the abyss beyond the disc or sunk into the deepest ocean, if it can not be crushed into dust.”
“That will be for Twilight to decide with Iridia, as I plan to give it to her when she returns.” Velvet answered Luna’s glare with her smile, one that could not be broken down.
“Why can’t we sense it?” The twins moaned and huffed.
“Probably because you’re young and haven’t started to come into your magic yet.” Velvet gave the pair a sympathetic sigh. “That, children, is the remains of a truly terrible artifact. One I’ve kept secret and safe for a long, long time. Of it’s many original qualities, one of the few it retains is its ability to focus and amplify magic.”
Closing her eyes, Velvet concentrated on the memory of that long ago day, holding it close to her as she pulled together a series of runes, Chaotic, Bright, and a single Dark. She cracked an eye open to watch the children’s faces, taking the sliver of joy and love that it brought to her tired heart, and driving the emotions into the Dark Rune.
Her horn blazed, and wisps of blue-white aether poured forth. Striking the crystal they burst upwards, spinning tight and coalescing into a twisted nexus of sparks that slowly flattened into a silver disc. Atop the disc hovered a thin layer of wispy smoke broken by dark clumps.
An unfelt breeze whisked away the top layer of smoke, revealing the clumps to be the boughs of short, frost covered trees. Figures wandered through the trees, winding their way up a stubby hill, the crunch of their hooves on loose earth filling the room. They stopped at the top of the hill, just before the trees ended and a long, rolling plain of short grass and prickly shrubs began.
From the host stepped Growler.
His mail barding jangled as he trotted several lengths from the treeline, with a peytral covered in swirling leaf and animal motifs and bear-helm on his brow. He was just as Velvet had described, tall and broad, exuding confidence that bordered on arrogance. A slight frown played at his lips, and then pulled back into a hopeful grin.
“Woof! He’s strapped,” Limelight let a playful growl roll in the back of her throat. “I wouldn’t mind him… uh…”
Blushing, Limelight ducked her head down behind her hooves as she received a few warning glances. Limelight’s outburst wasn’t noticed by the children, all of them far more intent on images within the disc.
“Mother?” Melody pressed her ears back and whimpered. “What’s going on? What is this spell?”
The image within the disc halted as Velvet turned her attention away from sustaining her magic. A ripple within the disc’s surface made her refocus, lips pressed tight as she fought to prevent the spell from fizzling.
“This is a very old, and powerful, form of scrying,” Luna supplied, taking care to keep her voice soft so as not to further disturb Velvet’s concentration. “What you are seeing is the past, as through a window. Give your matron a moment to stabilize the weave.”
Almost panting as she fought to contain the straining magic, Velvet gave a last push, and with a tone like a stone falling into a well, the disc took on greater clarity. From it’s depth rose not just the sound of the wind blasting across the tundra, but the smell of pine, unwashed fur, and oiled armour.
“It should be fine now,” Velvet gasped, taking a long, laboured breath, a slight glow around her horn from the now small amount of magic needed to maintain the disc.
“I can’t believe it… That’s a Seer’s Window... ” Star ducked down to peer at the underside.
“Does it matter what it is other than it’s pretty?” The twins cooed.
“Of course it matters!” Star gave an exaggerated huff and threw up her hooves. “That is very, very forbidden magic! Old, lost magic! Mother might be the only pony alive who knows it! This is amazing!”
“Is this true?” Glitterdust was wary of the disc, edging away from it and using her hoof to pull Adamant and Spike with her. “I’m not so sure about this, love.”
“No, if Vel is intent on us learning the past, as it was, this is one of the few methods that will work. With a Seer’s Window there is no distortion but what we ourselves provide.” This came from Whisper. A keen light of fascination amplified by the spells glow danced across her green eyes as she abandoned her spot in the corner and joined the fillies next to the disc itself. “When this is done, you have to teach me this spell. Why, with it my work could be completed! Or, at least cast it for me. Yes, that would be better. Even you need a focus…” Whisper’s words trailed off into muttered observations and ideas, and soon she was lost into her own thoughts and the spell forgotten.
Clearing her throat, Velvet put Whisper’s request aside until her wife would be in a state capable of discussing it. Probably over rice cakes and jam tarts in a week or so. Velvet would not have been surprised if Whisper began pulling text from the shelves to begin the next phase of her studies that very moment.
Focusing on the more important task at hoof, Velvet gave each and every pony present a warning glare.
“A few words of caution before the spell resumes. What you’ll see is, without a doubt, the worst period of my life. I was not a good pony on this day, or for many before. Finally, I am sorry…”
Growler stood alone, in front of a bitter forest, his breath misting in the chilly dawn. He raised his head high, a hard, determined countenance burning within his brown eye. Conviction rode on his back as Halla emerged out of a low hanging fog behind him, first a few, then many scores. Spears jangled in holsters on the hinds right sides, while shields dangled on their left. Little flags sewn onto the spear shafts marked them as the lodgeless or members of less martial lodges. By far they were the greatest in number, only a few of the halla true warriors.
Though few among the Bears carried spear or shield, there was no doubt that their sole purpose was one of battle. None showed the least sign of nervous anticipation. Lacking any sort of uniformity, each Bear’s armour was unique, as were their weapons. Most wore bladed caps on their antlers, others heavy peytrals and greaves. Masterwork barding held small totems, animal pelts, or was embossed in archaic designs passed down through the ages.
The mere presence of the warriors was enough to bolster the spirits of the other halla, little nods and smiles given to them as they passed and gathered in a quartet of clusters. Only a short distance separated the Bears from Growler.
Forming a line at the hill’s crest, the army stared past their lord and onto a great host on a barren plain of tundra below the towering walls of the great arctic glacier, that field of ice that stretched across the northern rim of the disc. A river of bright teal water broken by white frothing rapid here and there raced across the plain before vanishing beneath the ice.
Along the river’s banks sat a few trebuchets. A couple already hurled stones covered in burning pitch while the others were assembled by crews driven to a frenzy. Forty thousand strong, the dogs were like a rug across the tundra, formed in ordered columns beneath the banners of five kings gently fluttering in the breeze. Never before had such a army been gathered by the Diamond Dogs.
At the glacier's base, before a door of shining pink crystal, stood the guardian dragon. Her movements sluggish and tired as she attempted to hold back the teeming throng of longspears that surrounded her. The Diamond Dogs were like ants swarming over the dragon, all turned to a single purpose. Each impact of the trebuchet stones sent shards of ice hailing down upon the dragon’s back and peppered her tattered wings. Even should she survive, never would she fly again.
Growler let out a harsh bark, calling for his generals. Three came forth, each a hero in their own right, to stand just a short ways ahead of the rest of the host, their armour, heavy fur cloaks, and bear shaped helms proclaiming them as Masters among the Bears. With them, stopping a little to the side, came a much younger Velvet.
She was nothing like the matron of House Sparkle Velvet was destined to become. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, shot through with green veins that pulsed in a slow, hungry thrum. All the Sparkles had seen Velvet angry before, Shining and Pennant more than the others, but none had witnessed her with murderous intent. There wasn’t a trace of fire or passion as Velvet gazed upon the dogs, just the promise of suffering.
It was to her Growler spoke first.
“My love—”
“I know what must be done, my love,” she said, her tone cold, calculating, and hissing through the corner of her mouth as if from a ghost. Velvet tried to smile, but it was wrong, like she’d only ever seen one in a faded painting.
Growler leaned down to kiss her at the base of her horn, and whispered. “Use Algol’s curse only if you must. Promise me this, I beg of you.”
The smile cracked at the edges as Velvet sneered. “I will do what is necessary to free the Queen and save our daughter. No price is too high. All I demand is you give the same. Not just for our daughter, but all the foals, fawns, and little ones unborn.”
A final, apprehensive kiss and Growler moved away, his steps gaining renewed purpose as he approached the generals.
“Mountain, you and the Ironbarks have the right flank and are to be our shield. Thistle, you follow my lead into the center. We must reach the guardian and insure no dogs manage to enter the Vale. Snowflame, once we reach the wall, take your halla left. Drive the dogs into the river where they will drown or freeze. Go now, my friends, and I will see you shortly on banks of the Styx.”
Each nodded in turn, then galloped off to join their companies.
With slow confidence he marched in front of the Halla. When he spoke they leaned closer, all hanging off his every word.
“Look below us, brothers and sisters, look below and see the storm that threatens all the north. See the evil that would steal the laughter of fawns from all the disc. That would have every mother weep! We are all that stands between them and the Font.
“We Halla, forged of stone and ice. March by my side, brothers and sisters, not to battle, but to our deaths. For gladly I lay down my life so that our sons and daughters may live in peace, safe beneath the Queen’s wings. As spring breaks through the harshest winter, we will break these dogs!”
All the gathered host answered Growler, many rearing to kick the air.
“Sound the horns! Sound the horns! For our Queen! For our fawns!”
Spinning, Growler kicked off and raced down the hill.
Ivory horns were answered by the dogs drums and trumpets. The front line of halla lowered their spears or antlers.
Confusion rippled through the dogs as halla swarmed from the treeline, most of their commanders reacted quickly, barking orders to turn and accept the charge. The tide was against them, ordered lines turning into a chaotic mess as every dog struggled to find their bearings. Almost half the distance had been crossed before a semblance of order was restored, leaving gaping holes that could not be filled until it was too late.
The dogs hardly had time to set their pikes, the deadly heads forming a shell like the quills of a porcupine. The archers were not so easily disrupted; their crossbows raised and ready, a few even firing without orders, bolts falling far short. There was fear in some of the dogs eyes, and resignation. For most there was only a bloodlust, howls rippling from their throats as the halla drew nearer. In the very center of the army, atop a short hillock, stood the King of the Diamond Dogs, visible to all with his banner and golden armour that shone like a beacon.
At the drop of the king’s hand, the archers released, a swarm of bolts like venomous wasps flying into the halla. Armour was pierced clean through, dropping many of the halla, their bodies tumbling across the frozen earth. Their fellows charged on, leaping over the dead and wounded alike. The sky herself echoed with the thunder of their hooves and the ground quaked at their approach.
With Velvet at his side, her short legs moving with magical speed, Growler hurdled a shallow ditch, lowered his broken antlers, and together they vanished into the diamond dog host. There followed a tremendous clash as the rest of the halla surged behind their lord into the dogs. The halla did not slow nor falter, many of their kin felled by the dogs set pikes.
Velvet’s blade hissed like water on a hot skillet as she cleaved through the dogs. It was close, dirty work, filled with an incessant hacking with little room and less time for finesse. For every halla felled, several of the dogs were gored and crushed.
The dogs lines began to cave, and then utterly collapse, their center folding into an unorganised retreat.
“They run! The dogs run!” Velvet cried in glee, her face smeared and dripping red. Lifting a warhorn to her lips, she drowned out the nearby screams and clamour of steel with a reverberating tripled blast.
Halla rallied around their master, driving deeper into the dogs, their goal, the trebuchets, still hammering at the cracked crystal doors.
Jumping across a dog missing half his face, Velvet caught her leg in a root. She hardly had time to give a surprised yelp before she was laying splayed out in the muddy field. Her head spun for a dangerous moment as she gathered her legs beneath her.
A shadow fell across her back moments before a spear descended towards her heart. Instinct saved her, kicking to the side. Instead of piercing her back, the spear found her left foreleg, slicing clean through and sinking into the earth. Only through practice and the rush of battle did Velvet manage to maintain her grip on Lllallawynn. Her sword drove to the hilt, slicing through the dog’s belly and through his spine.
Grabbing the spears haft with her magic, she pulled it free, tossing it aside as she glanced at the dying dog.
He could not have been more than a pup, small and scrawny with his large grey eyes filled with such terror. A bloody whimper filled his mouth, red rivulettes leaking from the corners of his muzzle. Twice he spasmed, and then was dead. Velvet didn’t spare him another glance as she limped back towards the fight, a feral growl twisting her features.
There were yet many of the filthy beasts between Velvet and her goal.
Before she’d gone more than a few strides, a tremendous boom issued across the battle leaving several seconds of silence in its wake as all present were driven into the mud. Ears ringing, Velvet looked up to the doors in time to see the top half of one come crashing down. The remainder hung there for a moment more, before they too fell to ecstatic howls.
The Sparkles watched with unbridled horror.
All the children had looked away, even Tyr, their faces buried behind hooves or an adult’s side. Ears pressed flat could not keep out the mingled screams and deathly din emanating from the Seer’s Window.
“Velvet, that is quite enough!” Glitterdust barked, not for the first time since the battle began. “I don’t know what this is supposed to accomplish.”
A wave of her hoof stilled the window, Velvet returning Glitterdust’s disgust with anger of her own. “It is meant to show them the truth!”
“Truth? All I see is you traumatising our foals.” Anger fairly rolled off Glitterdust as she gathered up the youngest Sparkles. “Star, come with me. I don’t want you exposed to anymore of… this.”
“No, I’m good.” Star’s voice was quiet, far more enraptured with the how than the what. “If mother is okay with me staying.”
An exasperated groan rattling in her throat, Glitterdust turned to find help. “Whisper, I could use your support.”
Jumping as if she’d just had a dragon land in front of her, Whisper gave her head a vigorous shake. “I think if she’s old enough to go to Celestia’s school, she’s old enough to chose what she wants to see and learn. You’re letting the Season get to you again, Glitterdust. You should take some Foalsbane tea, love. Besides, Twilight wasn’t much older when she faced down the Nightmare.”
Luna shifted on her cushion and looked away.
Tail slashing back and forth, Glitterdust glared at her wives and snapped, “Fine. Everypony and drake who doesn’t have a cutie mark; out!” There were a couple muttered protests, all of which were silenced by a sharp, “Now.”
Not all the foals began to leave at once, Tyr remaining tucked beneath Luna’s wing, a pensive hoof tapping the edge of the sofa.
“Shining?”
“Yes?” Shining jumped, his head snapping up from his own contemplations. He followed the sharp inclination of Glitterdust’s head to Tyr. “Oh? Oh. Oh!”
Putting on his best stern expression, the one he reserved for troop inspections, Shining started to tell Tyr to go with the other foals. The words had barely started to form when Tyr thumped down a hoof.
“No! This is my story. The good and the bad.” She puffed up her cheeks. “I’m not afraid.”
Shining’s expression began to melt at once. “Nopony is saying you’re afraid, just that maybe this isn’t the best, uh, medium for a filly? A story is one thing… This is… a bit much.”
“Please,” Tyr said, rolling her eyes before jabbing a hoof toward the mirror. “I’ve lived through that.”
“Which is why showing it to you isn’t the best idea.” Shining rose from his cushion. “Besides, its about time for your medicine and you should get some rest.”
An exasperated huff rolled through Tyr. “It’s not right. Grandmother Velvet promised she wouldn’t tell the story without me anymore.”
“Maybe we should end the story here,” Velvet suggested, only to be drowned out by a chorus of dissent.
Even Glitterdust gave a sharp note of disapproval. “I don’t think you need to stop it entirely, love. But this,” she nodded to the mirror, “is going too far. Now, come children.” Glitterdust turned to lead the way out of the library, only to be stopped as Mrs. Hardtack stepped into the doorway.
Her tail lashed back and forth, and there was a slight pinch to the old steward’s brow. The unease of Mrs. Hardtack’s appearance was amplified by what she carried in her teeth; a note sealed in official green wax.
Slowly Velvet rose and crossed the room
“Thank you, Mrs. Hardtack,” Velvet said as she took the note. Residual magic in the parchment tingled against Velvet’s aura, indicating it was a fire-letter sent through the system of magical candles. “That will be all.”
Mrs. Hardtack nodded before withdrawing.
Examining the seal before breaking it open, Velvet noted the return address; The Manehatten City Hall. She had few dealings with the council and couldn’t imagine why they’d be sending her a letter, much less via curulícum.
Rather than dwell on possibilities, Velvet snapped the letter open, reading it aloud to the family.
Almost at once she regretted the decision.
“To Her Ladyship, Velvet Theodora Sparkle, Baroness of Sparkledale, it is with great regret that I write to inform you that on the night of April 20th your sister, Lady Sateen Margaret Sparkle, passed away…”
Velvet’s mouth grew too dry to speak. The room spun, and she almost fell, and would have if not for a large, dark form appearing at Velvet’s side to provide support. Helped to a cushion, it took Velvet some minutes to regain her senses. It were as if she were floating, watching another pony and not herself. An experience she’d had several times over the years, most often while fighting.
“I’m better now,” she said, giving the pony that had helped her a weak smile, and finding herself leaning against Princess Luna.
“Do you wish…” Luna trailed off as Velvet gave a quick, stern shake of her head and reached once more for the note.
“No. I… No.” Velvet shook her head again and swallowed a lump in her throat before returning to the note. “Passed away, along with her husband, second wife, foals, and maid when a fire broke out in their home.”
A crisp crackle rang from the paper as Velvet snapped the letter shut. Twice more she worked her jaw and swallowed a rising tide of emotion. Time later for private tears, she told herself. Strength, she needed to project strength for her family. The seconds ticked past, everypony present watching Velvet or seeking solace in their neighbor.
“Comet, dear, we must discuss matters,” Velvet finally managed to say.
“Of course, darling,” he responded at once as if he’d anticipated the not-quite a request.
The dreadful note was passed to Whisper, who looked at it as though it were the blasphemous scribblings of a madmare, while Velvet and Comet stormed from the room.