//------------------------------// // 4 - Though Your Eyes Are Dim... // Story: From the Flames in the Firelight // by Snowybee //------------------------------// The royal chambers. Lilac filled up her view. The absence of warmth at her side compounded the sense of wrongness. The princess sat up and rubbed her eyes, scuffing the horn upon her head. Strike two, her mind noted. The canopy and drapes encasing the bed fit the bill, and yet… To her right, the moonlight flooded the curtain. The shadow of another pony out on the balcony stood, unmoving. Judging by the point at the crown of her head and the set of flared wings, it was an alicorn much like herself. With bated breath, the princess sidled to the edge of the bed. Her magic did the work of pulling the drapery aside, and she set bare hoof to the hard floor. Her legs could only bear her for a few steps, before she had to plop to the floor and pant. That trek lead her close enough to the balcony doors. The starry mists about the alicorn gazing upon the princess’s kingdom captivated her exhausted mind. Navy aura gently pushed the doors inward, and her chime-like voice drifted inside. A few soft notes to some song preceded her greeting. “Good evening, Cadance. I felt you call to me once more.” The alicorn didn’t budge. With a grumble, the princess crawled along the floor and out to the balcony, alongside her newfound companion. A little smile played upon her lips. The princess followed her gaze out to the lightly shaded city, pulling herself up by and onto the rail for a better vantage. Even at night, the brilliant crystal that comprised her kingdom positively glowed. The alicorn’s gaze followed the flares and deaths of light about the sleeping city. “It is a truly breathtaking view, my neice,” she whispered. “Tis a sickening tragedy, methinks, that this beautiful kingdom fell into darkness for so long. Who could imagine my Equestria and your Crystal Empire with a sterling, millennia-long friendship between each other had that not been the case?” The princess pursed her lips. “You know damn well and good why I called you here. And if you do, then I’m sure you’ll agree that your presence is no longer necessary. It never was.” The alicorn perked a brow. “Oh? Are we giving lip to the princess of dreams, now? How rude; to call me by your side, then let your silly ego get to you.” She snorted. “‘Ego’? Hardly. If anything, I feel more like dirt than a garden does.” The princess took her temples in both forehooves. “You can’t help me, auntie. No one can. I let my fear get to me, and now that’s just another shame I have to live with.” After a deep swallow, the princess spat to the side and took a few, calming breaths. “I’m sorry you had to see it.” A hoof laid gently upon the princess’s shoulder. “Be silent, my niece “To overcome that fear, like I told you before.” “‘Tis impossible,” the alicorn said plainly. She glanced at the gaping princess and chuckled. “What I meant to say was: it’s impossible to not be afraid, Cadance. No brave pony ever lived without fear. Nay; the fear for the worst creates strides for the best. Were we not running from misfortune, we would never find the very fortunes we seek. “You hold your guilt and refuse to let it go. That is, to put it one way, a defective mockery of bravery. You fear accepting your mistakes, and becoming a worse pony for it. You fear being content and to forget, instead of torturing yourself every day to remember.  You fear letting go of old faces, and not hanging their murderer by hanging yourself. You fear the truth of who you are coming out to Shining Armor, and then to Twilight Sparkle then Celestia then the whole wide world. And yet, it is only you who see yourself as the monster.” The city lights buzzed with life, drawing the princess’s focus in. She could feel the alicorn studying her face, so she withheld any shift in her expression. “Perhaps that’s true, auntie Luna. I’m their only witness. I’m the only one who can cry and mourn for them. I… I want so badly to tell their story, so that I’m not the only one anymore, but… b-but ponies believe in me. Who’s to say their faith won’t be betrayed if they knew what I had done? How could they trust a coward like me? A weak, worthless—” Her head spun. The rail of balcony dug into her shoulder blades, and the dark figure of the alicorn loomed over her. She moved her foreleg to caress her throbbing cheek, but the alicorn’s hoof all but stomped it back to the ground. Those emerald eyes bore into her. “I shall cut thy tongue from thy mouth if you speak once more in that manner. Are we clear?” the alicorn hissed. “Auntie, I—” In one swift motion, the alicorn rammed her skull in the princess’s, ground snout against snout and nearly pierced through the stricken mare with her leer. “Are. We. Clear?” “N-no!” Her legs and their newfound strength pushed the alicorn, tossing her to her back upon the stone floor. The impact seemed to knock the air from her lungs, for she didn’t immediately rise to rip the unruly princess to shreds. She bit her lip and sidled back to the balcony doors. “You can’t make me do that, auntie. You just can’t!” A chill ran down her spine. Two gangly, perforated legs snaked around her neck. “Of course she can’t, Little Luna,” purred the the voice next to her ear, laced in an unnatural timbre. “Why, she surely didn’t put up much of a fight against little old me. All I needed was the right words and, hmm, just the right spots to send her kneeling and begging before me.” The princess stared straight ahead, shaking badly in the witch’s grasp. The haze of shadow that began to cup the balcony forced her eyes shut, just like before. She tried to curl up and forget it all, but the wicked legs pulled her closer to the emaciated form behind her. A loving little coo hummed into and throughout the princess’s spine. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood. “And let’s not forget how my pretty little princess couldn’t even save her kingdom. She just held the parasol over everyone’s heads while they did all the work.” Her captor scoffed. “Not to say I’m surprised a cow like Celestia would raise such a dud.” Another set of arms embraced the princess, just as the witch’s embrace melted away. Her eyes shot open. The black mists had faded, and the heavenly mist of her companion sparkled her eye. Softly, as if she might shatter, the alicorn’s hoof stroked her neck. “Let it all out, my nephew,” she spoke softly. Was she crying? “You’ll always be safe in your dreams, Cadance. Always. I swear on my life, you will.” Her hesitation crumbled, and she pulled her aunt closer. The princess bawled. *** The alicorn’s pleads melted in the sunrise. Princess Cadance opened her eyes, slow to accommodate the light. Naturally, she had tossed onto her back in her sleep, which explained the stiffness she felt, having slept in the dirt all night. A hoof swept her forehead for assurance that Luna hadn’t roped her back into sleep. An unpleasant stench urged her to her hooves, then to seek the nearest body of water once the stickiness on her coat wriggled her nerves. She blushed all the way, even though the wurm must have scared off every other living thing from the area. In fact, a simmer of giggles bubbled to life from the pegasus. How ridiculous she must have looked… With that nice, relaxing dip in the nearest lake she found, the dread from last night became a distant memory. Perhaps, as a princess, she had comparted her fear into Luna; a lopsided exchange. Madmare! Fool! It’s suicide! She snickered. With a smirk, the pegasus kicked back against the edge of the lake. “Perhaps chasing a remorhaz is mad, Auntie Luna,” Cadance said to herself. “Still, didn’t you tell me that facing your fears is therapeutic?” The princess puffed her cheeks. “I’ll have you know that I’m experienced in wurm-handling, dear aunt. Ask Twily about it, even. I showed her the ropes.” Her reflection tapped her chin. “Perhaps this is some bilious version of ‘courage’ I’m feeling. Maybe I have lost my mind?” She struck the water with her hoof. “Psh. It was holding me back. It’s a sick foal, Cadance. We’re out here, looking for the cure. Why in the world would we force it to tag along with us? It could die.” The broken waters nodded back to her. “You do have a point. Shall we, then?” “Indeed. Let’s not let that monster get away from us.” For the first time since the blizzard, Cadance took to the air. It required some stretches, but her healing wing supported her just fine both in the liftoff, then the glide. Just as well, her legs only felt stiff, as if she had ran too much rather than crashed into the earth with crushing force. Tenacity; was it her earth pony upbringing, or her pegasi blood, that filled her with it? As the pegasus scanned the world below, she noted the evergreen trees; wow they could withstand the cold and persist through any condition. Every limb reach upward to the temperamental sky, feasting upon every last trace of light that one day poured freely, then the next penetrated the metallic cloud cover. Born of the earth, just like her. Of limbs, she was queen. Strong legs, and the flights of fancy in her wings. The powerful forces locked in her vanished horn roiled deep in her body now. “You should be afraid, remorhaz,” she grunted. The queen held her head high. *** Days went by. Cadance flew strong as ever, armed with the conclusion that the wurm hid underground once more. Her wings carried her with such speed, that her Wonderbolts would gawk. A wurm as large as the remorhaz had no hope of outpacing her anyways. She noted that its warpath ended about forty five miles from the glade, closer to the warm west that she would have expected from the species. That suited her plans just fine, and she flew on. On the fifth day, she spotted a crater. Even without the lifetime of memories, the sight would have drawn any explorer in. A quarter of a mile in diameter, the crater bordered a steep cliff which accented the grievous scar upon the forest’s face. On the horizon, an even more massive and chilling crater loomed, billowing steam to rival the clouds that the eastern wind would carry over to the forest. Even upon touching down at the border of the small crater, Mount Lowen occupied most of the northern sky. An unbidden shudder overcame Cadance. Home. Even cocooned in bravado, the pegasus stepped with trepidation through the treeline. The sight of the first cabin dealt a blow to her gut. Like a charred pustule, the frayed remains encircled the debris that likely fell inward and coalesced into a gross crust within. Through the shattered window, only mounds of darkness remained. It was a house, she realized. The small size and lack of extensions showed the building to be a cozy, welcoming nest, and a small spoonful of eagerness spilled into Cadance’s heart. She circled about, searching for the doorway, but the disgusting burns upon the wood splintered her little fantasy in short order. When she encountered the knob, in its miraculously pristine state, she stopped her hoof just inches away from it. The pegasus slowly backed away. Judging by the voices from inside, simply barging in unannounced would be crazy. Lowen must have silently erupted, hidden by the voices. From the corner of her eyes, but never quite in her sight, bits of debris rained from the sky, compiling all around as lushly lit structures, tinted pink. At once stained by age and dashingly new, the village took root once more. Her muscles refrained from response, until the maddeningly simple genesis of her delusion completed in a time frame smaller than a blink. The shuffling, the shouts and the murmur of life seeped from the earthen air, the air that choked the breath from Cadance under her nose. Her legs fell out from under her when the pain in her chest came to a point. Baby blue hooves skittered into her sight. “Cadie! Quit lazing around and come on! The stallions just got back, and who knows how good’s the gettin’!” They went on her way before she could get a good look or even respond. Was it even a pony who spoke to her? Her awareness, even her thought, bent around the mysterious pony. A hole in reality. No, no. How would she know if there was a hole in reality? Even if it were possible, she’d be subject to reality just the same. She’d never notice. Pebbles cascaded down the cliff face from afar, and a gust with gusto swept between her legs. The little blue pony’s tail wrapped around the corner of a building as they disappeared from the scene. Ponies had tails, they did. The air tasted of delectable ash mixed with savory scents of food. That was as real as it could get. That meant Papa was really home! She galloped after the blue pony’s trail. Cadance weaved through the thick, faded crowds and bright buildings. Some of the ponies waved to her. Others made way for the stampeding alicorn. Whether it was routine or because of the threat now between her eyes, she couldn’t say anymore. When did it come back to her? No, no. No time to think about silly things. Cadance took the turn the blue pony took, though a moment too late. Her shoulder scraped the corner of the cabin, leaving a black mark upon her coat. She nearly skidded to a stop to observe the bizarre sight, but a phantom shove kept her going, kept her eyes forward. Her path made an arc, southern-bound. The caravan usually arrived from that direction, every time. A wide, wondrous land lay below their little hole in the wall, and every year her papa and all the other stallions went into that land, where they sought things the village didn't know it needed. Lights at the push of a button. Flasks of miraculous potions. Titanium tacks. A bulwark of bodies covered the perimeter of the fairground upon her arrival. The giddy alicorn sidestepped to and fro, seeking some opening in the crowd. It was only polite to keep her hooves to the ground... She paused yet again; low to the ground and caked with dust. Why was she playing pretend, like some madmare? The fairgrounds— Bustled with life! Her wings fluttered. Cadance turned to scowl at the appendages. ‘Cheaters!’ she scolded, then ducked back down on a prowl. Just as expected, the adults stepped aside a little to allow little Cadance passage, once she did find a hole in the defenses. The fat saddlebags many bore added to the challenge, which suited her just fine. Even amongst the erratic, living thicket, her internal compass didn't lead her astray. No, looking up at the sky also broke her rules. The sun didn't exist to the alicorn. “Closer, closer! Not too close, though. This next little piece is quite temperamental and delicate, like my little girl,” called out a strong, familiar rasp. A pout set on Cadance’s lips. “The professors at the esteemed University of Belmopon claim that these curious crystal skulls predate, not just their own country, but… all of history itself!” A wave of gasps swirled amongst the crowd. Cadance growled. Sandwiched between the hefty bookbinder and his heftier wife, the wave — hissing just so — shook her senses for a moment. The temptation of seeing her papa blended now with the needling curiosity his pitch threw to her. The way her wings shivered with the anticipation… it nearly drove her mad. Still, she stayed low to the ground. “...and some whisper that this ancient race even lit the Mother’s Flame itself! All this ‘wild’ speculation may live up to its name, you say, but to you skeptics, let me spell it out a different way. ‘Bragging rights’. What better thing to add to your collection than one of these little curios that boggled the minds of the curious for centuries?” The rising voices of the front line drowned out the rest of what she assumed was some boring ‘orderly line’ tripe. The hype papa kicked up made for a far better finale to his pitch, she felt. It was unbearable, but he’d be upset to see her abuse her wings again. She slithered between the legs of the adults, brushed away the youngsters, sniffed the air. She was close, so close… Why was there so many ponies in the crowd? It was a forest; not a crowd. And she’s come upon her quarry any moment— “Cadie!” said the hoof that slapped her on the back. Boy, did her legs send her to take-off from the shock! When gravity sent her reeling, those arms of his caught her with just a slight grunt. The alicorn uncurled after a second or two, and looked up into her father’s… Nothing. Just like the blue foal, who stood just a few feet back. “Were you up to your games again, sweetie?” he said to her. With a smirk? It felt like it. It ‘should’ have been a smirk, just like she remembered. The dirt dulled the warmth in her coat, along her sides as she lay in the dirt. The village allowed a whistle of wind to sing out, free from drowning in the murmur of life. Cadance looked to her side again, upon the empty fairgrounds. His hoof turned her head back, in no direction at all. His being looked into her eyes, poured into it and invaded them one at a time. “What’s wrong, child?” He hummed. “Oh, of course. You were worried about Yama, weren’t you? Yes, we took her to the finest doctors in Canterlot. You wouldn’t believe it, but she actually woke up for a little bit! You were right about her; she did have a heart in that chest of hers. Couldn’t stop thanking me for being the father of that beautiful alicorn that saved her. “You’re a hero, Cadenza.” The alicorn’s heart quivered. She attempted to pierce the blue monstrosity by the side of the one whom held her; pierce with the strongest gaze she could muster. It spoke. Words. Assent. The cloy of the assent. She couldn't will it away. No matter how she tried, she couldn't forget that. “Stop.” The blue foal stepped closer. He adored her. “Lying.” He turned to papa. And then, he said he wanted to be like her. “To your…” “Oh, is that so, son? I’d say you two have a lot to learn from each other; not just you from her. Isn’t that right, Cadenza?” She lunged. Her papa, despite his great size, stumbled from her glancing blow. She went for the throat of that blue thing. Its shoulders crunched under her hooves. Suffering meant nothing when spoken into her mind. The blue one cried in pain, it read. She smelled the fear, and when her teeth dug into its jugular, it tasted as dirt would. It sprayed into her eyes, and heavy hooves pounded at her back. Teeth twisted her wing, and it seared. She didn’t care. A twitch tingled her spine, and the anger vanished. A mess of blood and frayed tissue met her vision. An unearthed branch rest in the flesh, white as snow and not unlike a column. She couldn’t see the blue creature’s eyes, but her mind screamed. Oh, how he cried. Her wing tore from her back in a pop, a painless pop of tendons. The air twisted and pulled on her remaining wing, relieving that poor, blue rat of her assault. Abandoned assault. She felt anger no longer, just as the winds carried her away from the broken body. Down below, the crowd of ponies watched her as some heavenly being pulled her further and further away. Instead of heads, the ponies faced the alicorn with deep, black plates, knitted to their necks by fur. The sunlight funneled into their faces, draining all the beauty of the fairgrounds. Her little rat lay at the center, cradled in papa’s hooves. His black plate lay a few feet away at the end of a blood trail. She closed her eyes. A gentle chill stroked her mane. *** Two kicks and the rain fell. Without hesitation, Cadance let the droplets fall into her mouth. Four spits of mud turned to water at last, and she scrubbed the runoff off her chest. Cadance felt good after that. Never before had the nightmare ended that way. Never before did she not simply lay down and die at the end. Was it Luna’s purview that she gained some insight on? It was far too obvious; any worthy monster would hide in the skin of an innocent child. The shock of attacking it through its treacherous disguise must have loosed its chains upon her. She felt as light as air now. What did the wurm’s blood look like, she wondered? The alicorn gently waved off the little bit of cloud. Hovering so high above the sunny crater, she felt a tingle in her belly. The crater appeared to her a cradle, in some manner. She felt a warm, deep and invigorating love for the broken buildings and scarred land down below. From the town hall as the head, to the residencies as the little legs. The fairgrounds were bare of grass, for so often the child’s toys mingled on that spot. With a little bit of willpower, Cadance tore herself away from the child. Off to the east she flew, and after only a few minutes a dome of black vines crept up between the green trees. The thought of seeing it once more put the alicorn on edge, but the trepidation pulled her closer. Where everything had changed, inside that lair. Where nothing that changed mattered, in the end. At the foot of the dome, Cadance set her horn alight, bright enough that she had to close her own eyes to begin to tolerate it. Her mane flapped away from it due to the turbulence at the point of the horn, and her coat around the base let off an unpleasant, burning stench. Clunky as it was, her spell worked wonders, and the vines burned in twain. A quick arc was her incision, dropping a chunk to leave a hole just big enough for her body to fit through. She peeked her head in first. The blackness bore down on her. A lance of dread wracked her gut. The bizarre stench and inky black made the alicorn recoil after a few moments. She fell to her back before she knew it, and stared up at the top of the vine dome. The thing, all those years ago, had been impenetrable. Her papa, then a roaming scientist, and then the militia all gave it a crack after she had escaped its birth, just barely. Nothing even scratched it. The scientist quizzed the newly minted alicorn for a few weeks after, hastily instilling the basics of magic into the little filly, but her growth proved frustratingly slow. Too slow, and he abandoned the task. For her part, Cadance refused to approach the dome anymore after that. No one had blamed her. In a letter, Yama begged them to let that horrible artifact be forgotten in that impervious globe. Oh, many shall try, young Cadenza. I fear that, one day, a bright mind may stumble his way to the rumored place, and with the evil sorcery that only progress could birth, he’d find a way in. And that monster would know the light of day again. It is reckless of me, at once to worry about things bound for times long past my own; and to pass it off, and live out my years without seeking a permanent solution. You and I, we’re the only ones who understand what that amulet is. Soon, you will be the one who solely bears its burden. What will be a lifetime to me will be a blink of an eye to you. It WILL be soon, I can promise you. I pray to the Mother that you discover the breadth of your gifts, and with them you destroy that amulet once and for all. Perhaps this is its way of selecting you, Cadenza. If no mortal can break its shell, then perhaps Perhaps you You will be a mighty alicorn, once you mature. Countless ponies will give you their thanks for all the good you will do. I know it. “A mighty alicorn,” Cadance repeated to herself. She glanced towards the setting sun. “If only you could see me now, Yama. Brother, papa, m-mama.” The alicorn curled up, but no tears came. “How pathetic are you, Cadance? Are you seriously considering using it?” “Of course, my dear. Only I know of it now. It belongs to me by definition. By right. We shall tame its power, as the Alicorn of Love. What it corrupted was a mere mortal, after all.” “You’re delusional. You let everyone you claimed to care about down, and you cry yourself to sleep more than a child does. What gives you the delusion that you have the will to tame that spirit inside of the amulet?” “We did it once. Our horn is proof.” “It’s a false alicorn’s horn.” “We flew on only our wings to this place. A normal pegasus would have made a fine ice sculpture through such weather.” “You only hid your shame and convinced yourself you were a normal pegasus. No. Your honor is gone. You’re less than a normal pegasus.” “I don’t care for words anymore. We need to feel strong, Cadance. If love is your strength, then so is hate. Love shapes one around the world, and hate shapes the world around one. I need you to feel it, Cadance. Feel what Yama felt. You’ll never let go of the guilt. Why not crush — why not make example of that wurm, and prove to yourself that you are far from weak? You wanted to be a strong leader, didn’t you?” “Do what, exactly, Cadance? Talk with the remorhaz? Reason with it?” She bit her lip. “I… I want to kill it. Even if it’s an unthinking monster, I need to destroy all the hate in my heart somehow. But to take a life, I— “ “Are you seriously feeling guilty over this? You wanted to prove yourself as a pegasus, didn’t you? That’s the talk of a weakling, not of a pegasus. If that doesn’t appeal to your conscience,” she spat, “then all you need do is to review the body count Celestia’s aide put on file for this goddess-forsaken place.” No thought came. She studied her hooves. “I…” A hoof lifted her chin up to face the darkness up ahead. “And it’ll happen again. And again. Again, until you waste away in your weakness. Forgiveness is a concession. It’s asking for this to happen. Vengeance is the only way, Cadance. You need this amulet.” Cadance shot to her hooves. The ground trembled below, forcing her to lean against a tree for support. “Not like this!” “Yes!” cried Cadance. “You’re better than that fool Sombra. You won’t torch your people with fear, oh no. You’ll make anyone who dares threaten what you love tremble with it.” “It’s not—” The earth shook harder. A landslide of tension rocked her lungs and heart. That was no hallucination. She whipped around. Dust rained from the surface of the dome with the next tremor. Where the land met the vines, an opening, small as it was, grew. Another strike, and the dome inched upward. Just as soon, its own weight pulled it back down. The remorhaz. Why was it attacking the dome? Her eyes turned to the maw of her making. The new tremor at last compelled her to take to the air, and she cursed under her breath. Her sharp eye followed the jittering pebbles about the dome. Just very slight shift amongst them followed the curve of the dome. The wurm was looking for a weak point. She had made one just for it. There was little mistake that the two sought the same thing. “But how?!” The earth folded and crumpled behind the dome. “Why?” Then, it bubbled. The stone beak crowned from the pit of molten earth as steam hissed from its corners. Then, the glowing, claret eyes rose as well. The thing must have been blind, and yet it watched. Cadance strafed to the side opposite of the remorhaz while it still unearthed itself. It knew she was there in the night sky. She could feel it. A thought struck her. “Magic,” she whispered. “It couldn’t see me before because I locked mine up so tight. It devours magic so it can keep up its body heat. It can sense the amulet, and it wants it.” She shivered. “That’s what drew them here last time, wasn’t it?” The wurm curled around the dome for leverage. By the time its whole body resurfaced, it formed an arc greater than half the dome’s circumference. It wouldn’t take long for it to find the wound. Cadance descended with haste towards her self-made entrance, caught between the tail and head of the beast. Uncaring, the remorhaz hooked its beak upon the grooves of the vines. Its neck trembled with the sheer force the jaw exerted. Fruitless, however. The dark didn’t shift from the lashes of the tail and incisions of the beak; a thick, suspended fluid. The amulet rest inside. She raised a hoof, then set it down. “I’ll be trapped if I go in,” she muttered. Her brow dripped with sweat, mere moments after touchdown. “It’d cook me alive if I did that. I can’t slay it if I don’t take the chance, though.” The wurm shifted, and her heart leapt to her throat. The head slithered a few meters closer to the opening, taking a new angle which to attempt its rending. The temporary lapse of composure ceased within the second. She couldn’t let on what a tasty treat she could be! For now, the amulet’s wild energy held all of the remorhaz’s attention. Her opening. It would seek her the moment she approached the exit with it in hoof. She’d die on the spot with a single mistake. If she didn’t act soon, the wurm would crack the shell with her unintentional help. All its heat would no longer be focused in its muscles. She could never contest the amulet if its heat once again poured from its hide. The dark merely watched. The point of no return. With her head high, the queen stepped forward.