//------------------------------// // Interlude: Death // Story: Luna Wants a Windigo // by Lazauya //------------------------------// The ceremony started at eight o’ clock. No later, no sooner. No solemn ritual was aloud to start late. I outlawed it. Literally. It was the first law I ever passed. The ponies around me did not speak. They looked down at their hooves in sorrow. I could not bear to do so; I was sure that he would want me to remain stoic. Which was pretty assuming of him. I mean, mares can be really emotional. I guess stallions can too, sometimes. I guess. I’m pretty old fashioned. I don’t know. It was pretty hard. Actually, maybe I’m really apathetic, but thinking about it now doesn’t really elicit any strong emotions. I digress. Actually, does this count as digression? Okay, I just answered my own question. Actually, nevermind. Thinking about it has made me very sad. I never was a very good story teller. I just read them from books. The ponies holding the coffin on their back walked up the aisle, and nopony in the room would dare to make eye contact with anyone. It was against law, too. It felt like a good idea at the time. Don’t judge me. Her majesty held the motions. She made a speech, and choked a little at the end. Even her sister had some words to say about the great stallion. She was somewhat ostracized after she came back from the moon, but after everypony got over their fears, she was readily welcomed back. I didn’t fear her when she came back, though. I just wanted her to feel welcome, because I know that’s how I would want to feel. “We are here to remember—” somepony coughed, and I didn’t hear what the princess said. I mean, I knew what she most likely said, but I can’t just lie and say that I did hear it. That would be bad storytelling. Probably. I’m not a very good storyteller…. Everypony looked up from their sulking positions to bathe in the light that Celestia seemed to radiate. To me, her being felt like a beacon of hope. I had always heard stories and rumors of chaos and disharmony and injustice plaguing the lands around us; I never thought it would be able to pierce our impenetrable walls. But it did. In the form of an ice blade. It hit so hard and so fast that I was shocked and numb at first. He was hit in the heart, and he, obviously, did not survive. Hence the funeral. I woke up in the night, and Shining was on top of me. No, not like that, Shining wasn’t one to take advantage of mares in their sleep—his body was limp over me, and I tried pushing him off, but he was already cold. My breathing grew uneasy, and I screamed. I pushed my husband off of myself, and I saw the black veins sprawling out from his chest. A blade of natural glass shone in the faint light of the room, and I was left dumbstruck. And then it hit me: my husband was dead. I heard hoofsteps from the hallway, and stood up the chase after them. I had no clue what had transpired, but I understood that someone had killed my Shiny, and I was going to hunt them down until the ends of the world. At which point, I would probably break down and sob at the pony’s hooves, begging them to tell me why they did it. All I could see was a black cloak. I heard guards behind me, chasing after the culprit as well. All of the sudden the pony jumped up and tore off his cloak. He flapped his wings and flew down to the end of the corridor. My heart nearly skipped a beat, but I quickly did the same. He was a fast flier, and even in my airborne state I stood no chance of catching up to him. But as Auntie had smiled extra hard at me that night, the perpetrator kept going when he reached the end. And he hit the wall. I was relieved then baffled. Our party quickly reached him. We all surrounded him, but he was knocked unconscious. “No! No! No! NO! How can this be happening?! My Shining Armor is dead! DEAD!” I screamed and cried into his pillow. My initial numbness had worn off, and I was faced with the situation head on. I didn’t want to live without him. I wanted to take the knife and lick the poison off like a spoon with little bits of ice cream left on it. I wanted to kill myself. How can I live without him?! How is this possible? Why wasn’t it me? Why am I not dead? I swear I will kill the sorry bastard that did this! I tried composing myself, but a lust for vengeance and a deep sorrow still held up inside of me. After this, I thought, I can cry all I want. I trotted out of our room. His pillow was already soaked with tears.  I’ll use it if I have to. The prisoner woke up. He jerked and flailed around, desperately trying to escape. His entire body became transparent, and my eyes widened in wonderment. He settled down, and I finally asked him who he was. He answered in a menacing whisper. “I will never tell you. But be warned. We will return. We will get our vengeance. You will regret the day you slew my brethren!” “No,” I stomped my hoof. “You will tell me.” The guards tensed up, as if they did not trust me. “I’ll starve to death before I tell you anything! I will not betray my true brothers and sisters! Never!” I shivered. “It seems as though you fail to realize who I am.” He glared at me.  I said, in a low tone, “I am Princess Mi Amore Cadenza: “the Princess of Love, “the Princess of The Crystal Heart,  “and the Princess… “of the Shade.” His eyes widened. “Y-you—you’re a shade mage? Im-impossible!” Everyone was still. I looked him deep in his grey, hollow eyes. His pupils consumed the entirety of the spheres, and they were an unusual light blue. They emitted a faint light. It reminded me of something…. “That’s right. And I’m going to make you tell me all of your secrets.” I’m sorry, Shining, I thought to myself. I’m sorry Aunties, I’m sorry Twilight. I know I said that I would never use this evil magic. But I must. I have to: for you, Shining. Forgive me. My horn glew in it’s natural, deep green aura. We locked eyes as my horn came to his forehead. With a tap, he was flailing again. But now he was in extreme agony. His mouth frothed. His eyes were close to rolling backward in their sockets. He gave blood curdling shrieks, and all the guards had to lower their ears, quietly moaning as they did so. And then, it was over. He lay limp, held up only by the chains. His wings were no longer tucked neatly at his back, and instead were hanging off of their joints. It seemed like a while before he woke up again. I looked down at him. A aurora green aura floated out of the corners of my eyes, and my pupils turned to slits. He looked back up at me. We stared at each other. Again. It was kind of awkward. “Tell me, who are you?” My voice sent a chill down all of the guard’s spines, as if somepony had just trotted over their grave. “I-I a-am-am-am…” he resisted. “Who are you?” I asked again. “I-I-I….” “Who are you?” “I am Sorrowful Cold!” he shouted. “Curse y-you!” “What are you doing here?” “I am an assassin sent here to kill you!” “What are you?” “I am a pony!” “What is it that you worship?” “The windigos! The windigos are our true brothers and sisters!” “Where do you worship?” “In a cave seventy kilometers north of the Crystal Empire!” “Who sent you?” “He who possess no name!” “Why does he possess no name?” “He is a windigo! He is the last windigo of the Era of Hatred! He does not need a name!” I swallowed. I knew then why he wanted to kill me. It was the windigos we accidentally killed. My heart raced, and I hyperventilated. I understood why Shining was dead. It was because of me. I killed my husband. I killed windigos for my aunties’ pleasure, and my husband was dead because of it. I didn’t know how to feel. I felt angry. I felt sad. I especially didn’t know what to do. My husband was dead, and nopony knew about it besides me and few of the guards ponies. It was early in the morning, I had just used my forbidden magic on a pony, and I was utterly confused and shocked. So I cried. I cried until tears ceased to be produced. And then, I cried some more, uncaring that it hurt. The assassin scoffed. “You don’t deserve to cry! It is my brothers and sisters that are dead! Curse you, Cadenza! Curse you, Celestia, you dirty betrayer! And curse you too, Luna! And… I don’t know… probably… curse you too, Sparkle! “Damn this land! Damn it all! I hope Equestria and the Crystal Empire burn! My brothers and sisters will dance on the ashes and feed off of your misery!” he chanted hysterically. “We will get our revenge! We will eat you all alive! Curse you all!” I sat in my puddle of tears. The guards around me remained stoic. They were shocked into submission. The deranged cultist continued to growl insults, even going so far to say that my misery was delicious for his brethren. He turned to the crystal statues and yelled at them. “Can’t you see that you’re beloved princess is a liar? She’s a shade mage! She’s worse than the necromancers!” I could tell they growing even more cautious of me, but I didn’t care. Finally, I spoke up one last final time. “How many more of you are there?” He winced. “Seventy!” I let my eyes return to their usual state. I gave my final word on the subject. “Throw him in the dungeons.” The crystal guards were quick to follow my orders. I remained seated on my haunches. I needed to tell Twilight. I needed to tell Mom, I needed to tell Dad, Auntie Celestia, Auntie Luna. I needed to tell the world. But I didn’t know where to start. I didn’t want to start. And that’s how it happened. That’s how Shining Armor, Prince of the Crystal Empire, was murdered. Everything that made him him was destroyed with a blade dipped in poison. A poison so vile that the most studied mages didn’t even recognize it; it was from a time of sorrow and wars. It was the nectar of the Arctic Nightshade, a long forgotten flower residing in the most brutal and lifeless place in the known world. Suiting, for the husband of a shade. And the awful irony is that it is my fault. I killed him. And I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself. I killed those innocent windigos, and my husband suffered for it. He died protecting me from my own mistakes. At the very least, he can’t suffer now. He’s gone from this world, so he feels only joy. Or maybe nothing. I am not sure. I told everyone through letter first. Twilight came to me as soon as she got the letter. She teleported all the way from Ponyville to the Crystal Empire; not that it dampened her any. We mourned together for several days. Both Auntie Celestia and Auntie Luna came by in a similar fashion. I could see the guilt in their spirits. They felt awful, of course. They had went out on the hunt with me. No, it was a slaughtering. And finally, Mom and Dad. They took it the hardest. I expected them to. Children should not die before their parents just as a mare should never die before childbirth. We didn’t hold the funeral until almost a month after the fact. I knew everyone needed time to settle down. When the ceremonies ended, everyone who knew Shining Armor personally went to a banquet. It was extravagant. I’m not sure what he would have wanted, but I felt that it would be best. Me, Auntie Celestia, Mom, Dad, and Twilight unknowingly created a small circle. We chatted about random things, trying to keep our minds off of Shining. But, as it had to, the subject turned to Shining anyway. “So, Cadance, how have you been… coping?” Twilight asked. “I… I’m not sure I understand.” “Without… him, Shining.” “I… have been doing fine, I guess. It’s… lonely, but I manage. Besides... the husband is supposed to die before the wife.” Everypony was silent, and I gave a forced chuckle as if to try and convince everyone that it was actually a joke. “Oh, Cadance…” Auntie Celestia said slowly as she shut her eyes in a cringe, shook her head, and brought up a hoof to cover her face. Mom scowled, a huge frown enveloping her previous bittersweet smile. I could feel her about to cry. Dad comforted her. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I swear, that did not come out right, I am so sorry!” I tried explaining. “Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean that, I swear, that did not come out right.” Mom took a tissue and wiped at her eyes with her magic. Dad held a hoof on her back. Mom spoke up finally and gave a silent sigh. “Oh, Cadance, it’s alright....” I just looked down at my hooves in shame. That is the story of Shining Armor’s departure from our mortal plane. I haven’t seen anymore of the windigo worshipers, but I have a feeling they will show themselves again soon. Possibly. Maybe never. Maybe always. Wait, that doesn’t really make sense.