Four Hours Before the Ritual - Cobblestone Cream
Cobblestone Cream kicked at the loose stones outside her house, scanning the city with disdain. She hated Crystal City. Her parents had moved here from Detrot when she was just a year old, and she thought that was probably the dumbest thing they’d ever done. And that was saying something, because she hated her parents, too.
Sighing, she kicked another rock and watched it arc across the street, landing in her neighbor’s neatly manicured bushes. I hope he hits it with those stupid, loud trimmer things and they break! she thought, making a face at his house. Cobblestone hated her neighbor. That’d teach him to make noise when ponies are trying to sleep!
Cobblestone perked up at the sound of hoofbeats. These days, Crystal City seemed almost deserted. All of the young stallions, and quite a few of the mares, had gone off when King Sombra had told them to go fight, and that had included her brother. Now, whenever she heard hoofbeats, she ran to the window, just it case he was finally coming home.
She hadn’t seen Flagstone for at least a year now, and while she just shrugged when her parents asked about him, she spent more time in his room than hers. Lying on his bed and leafing through his yearbooks, she wished she could talk to him again. He wasn’t lame like all the rest of the ponies. Flagstone always made her laugh and told her how to sneak around their parents to do something fun. When they were still really little, he even kicked some colt right in the nose so hard that the colt had missed three days of school. Flagstone had been suspended, but he’d said it had been worth it because no pony picks on his little sis.
Cobblestone turned and waited, hoping. Whoever it was, they were coming really fast, and that made Cobblestone’s heart race. Flagstone had been on the track team at school, and he could really run.
As she waited, a cold breeze bit at her skin, and she pulled Flagstone’s letterpony jacket more snugly around her. Stupid winter, she thought, shivering. Cobblestone hated winter. She hated being cold and cooped up with her dumb parents.
Finally, the runner rounded the corner and started up her street. Cobblestone’s mouth turned sour and she kicked another rock extra hard, blinking back tears. It wasn’t her brother. It was just some lame blue pony that she didn’t know. She watched him sullenly as he streaked past her, grudgingly allowing that he was pretty fast, at least. He neared her, then passed her all in the blink of an eye.
Cobblestone frowned as she watched him turn another corner and disappear into the deepening gloom. The streets should have been lit up at this hour, but no pony bothered going around and lighting the streetlamps anymore. Flicking her half-lidded eyes back and forth, she saw far more darkened houses than occupied ones. Anypony who was smart had left Crystal City long ago, but she was still here because her parents weren’t smart. They were stupid, just like this city.
Cobblestone only knew some of what was going on. Some outside army was attacking the empire, but the soldiers were fighting them off. Her dad said they were winning, but it might be a little while before the soldiers came home. Looking around, it didn’t look like they were winning, but her dad was an idiot, so what did he know? Still, she clung desperately to the idea. Whenever she thought anything else, her stomach twisted into knots. Her brother was out there.
I don’t know why we don’t all just move back to Detrot! she thought, glaring at the deserted houses. What’s so great about this stupid city, anyway? It’s not even pretty, anymore!
Like everypony else, she’d been dismayed to see the gargantuan crystals that permeated the city grow dark and cold, though she made sure not to show it. With each pony that left the city, more of the crystals’ internal light and warmth died. Now, it was almost always dark and cold, and it seemed to be getting worse every day.
The wind was picking up, and Cobblestone shivered. She didn’t want to go in, where her parents would be reading or cooking or whatever; Cobblestone knew that what they were mostly doing was pretending. They told her and each other that everything was okay, and that was one reason why she knew that they were totally dumb. They could lie to each other if they wanted to, but Cobblestone wanted to know the truth.
For a little while, she’d asked around. When direct questions had gotten her in trouble with adults, she started trying to just get ponies talking about the war, hoping something would slip out. But she soon realized that no pony knew anything. They all just told each other the same stories over and over, and any time she brought up questions they told her to shut her mouth.
“Cobblestone, why don’t you come in? It’s getting dark,”
Cobblestone rolled her eyes and turned toward her front door, where her mother was standing, holding it open. Taking her time, she slouched up the five steps to their porch and walked inside, dragging her hooves.
“Do you want some dessert, hun?” her mother asked, trotting into the kitchen. “I made some popsicles earlier,”
“What’d you make popsicles for?!” Cobblestone said, making a face. “It’s, like, freezing!”
“Watch your tone,” her father rumbled from the other room. Cobblestone could hear the pages of the newspaper rustling as he turned them. Cobblestone didn’t see the point in reading the newspaper. It never had any actual news.
“You know why,” her mother said, busying herself with the last of the dishes. “And don’t complain. They’re in the freezer if you want one.”
Cobblestone did know why: The stupid war. Crystal City had been on strict rations for two years now, and they never had anything anymore. Flour. Sugar. Coffee. Even water. It was all doled out by the government now. The markets had all been closed for years, and if you walked by them now, you had to cross the street. They were full of rats and many of the stalls had collapsed. Ponies had better things to worry about. So the families made do with what the government gave them, but Cobblestone was tired of the same things all the time. They’d gotten those stupid popsicle flavor packs four times in a row now.
Cobblestone shivered. “No thanks,” she muttered, heading for her room. At least there, she could put on some music and get under the blankets. She’d been cold all day.
“Well, take one to your father,” her mother called out. Cobblestone winced and shot daggers at her mother through the hallway wall.
“Lime, please,” came the rumbling from the den.
“Lime, please!” Cobblestone mouthed silently, sticking out her tongue as she neared the door to the den, but she carefully forced her face back into its normally bored expression as she passed. She didn’t want restriction. She already spent enough time in the house.
“Here you go,” her mother said, twisting the popsicle rack to free the frozen dessert. Rolling her eyes as much as she could get away with, she grabbed the nearest green popsicle and pulled it out. Her skin crawled as the cold air around the stick chilled her hoof. She hurried out of the kitchen and into the den, wanting to be rid of it.
“Thanks, Cob!” her father said brightly. Whatever, she thought, nodding to her father before leaving. She hated when he called her Cob; she hated the name Cobblestone. She had no idea why they had chosen such a stupid name. Her family didn’t do anything with rocks and she wasn’t creamy looking at all. She was brown, and not even like a cute, chocolate brown. More like old mud.
Entering the hallway again, Cobblestone stomped back to her room, which was the furthest room away in the house. That suited her just fine. The further she could get away from her parents, the better. Twisting the knob, she pursed her lips as it made its telltale squeak. Something inside the mechanism was busted, and it squealed horrendously whenever she opened her door. Her dad joked that he kept it that way because it was like an alarm telling him when she was trying to sneak out, but the truth was that both the locksmiths that they knew were away at war, and her dad just didn’t know how to fix it.
Once in her room, she shut the door, not quite slamming it. She didn’t want her dad coming to give her a talk. Here, she could finally relax a little. Her room was a cheerfully chaotic mess of old school papers, notes from friends, music, and posters. As she fell onto the bed, she twisted out of Flagstone’s jacket, and threw it to the floor, where it sat in a rumpled heap. Cobblestone tried to ignore it, but finally got back up and hung it properly in the otherwise bare closet. All of the rest of her things were in a pile in the corner.
Jumping back into her bed, she grabbd the corner of her blanket and rolled, allowing her soft comforter to wrap itself tightly around her shivering body. Giving the room a final glance, she blew out the candle on her nightstand, plunging the room into darkness, save for the moonlight coming in from her bay window.
In the past, she’d loved sitting in that window, bathed in the soft, pastel glow of the giant crystals. Looking out, she could see the crystal ponies bustling to and fro, attending to the last of their chores. Off in the distance, the castle reached elegantly into the sky.
But now, the crystals were mostly dark, and nopony went anywhere, except off to war. She hadn’t sat in her bay chair for at least a year. What was the point? There was nothing to see that she hadn’t seen a million times before.
Hating herself for doing it, she poked her nose out from the blanket cocoon and stared down at the pile of books and papers that she knew the moonlight would be illuminating. They were her old school things, but she didn’t go there anymore. A year after the war had started, school had been called off. The teachers were needed for other things, and a lot of the older colts and fillies had been drafted into the auxiliary services. They were considered mature enough to do work behind the lines.
Still too young for that, Cobblestone now spent her days here in the house or wandering the streets. Her friends had mostly moved or gone off to the lines, but she’d still had one friend, Buttercup, until a few months ago. They’d gotten in a big fight, and Buttercup had stopped coming around. Whenever Cobblestone saw her, Buttercup just went back inside her house. Cobblestone didn’t even remember what the fight was about, but she’d be damned if she was going to be the one to come crawling back. She was fine on her own, and Buttercup was a moron, anyway.
Staring down at the disorganized mess of old papers and schoolbooks, Cobblestone let out a coughing sob, and then slapped a hoof over her mouth. She didn’t want company right now, and her mom had this spooky good hearing. Snarling, she threw one of her pillows at the offending materials and then froze.
The sky was suddenly filled with light. Brilliant, harsh, blinding whiteness that filled her room. Blinking furiously, she tried to get up, tangling herself in the sheets. As she fell to the floor, she kicked at the comforter until it released her, then jumped into the bay chair.
“The castle!” she cried, wide-eyed. “Mom! Dad! The castle’s on fire or something!”
From the other side of the house, she could hear the clattering of hooves hurrying down the hallway. With its terrible screech, her door opened and her parents nearly fell into the room, breathless. In the light’s brightness, their faces looked hollowed and desperate. The faces of ponies on the edge of something both terrible and completely alien.
Shaken, Cobblestone turned back to the castle. The light erupting from the castle’s central spire was dimming now, focusing up into the sky. The three ponies watched as the light punched a hole in the clouds and boiled into the upper atmosphere.
“D-dad,” Cobblestone said, her voice trembling. “What’s going on?”
For once, her parents didn’t have something stupid to say. They might not have even heard her. Cobblestone looked up at her father, and his jaw was just working, opening and closing without sound. Her mother’s eyes were open wide, and Cobblestone could clearly see the grotesque bags that had grown there recently that her mother had tried to cover with makeup. Cobblestone wondered if they were filled with tears.
“What is it? What’s going on?!” Cobblestone said again.
Her parents had no answer.