Of Hoof and Paw
Written by: Damsus Rhee
Chapter Seven
Tears ran down her face in a river.
The audience applauded her pain.
Octavia took a bow after she finished playing her final note on stage. The crowd, rowdy and raucous during DJpon3’s and Lyra Heartstrings’s performances, stood in frozen awe during Octavia’s. Only now that she had drawn her bow across the strings for the last time did they dare break the reverie that had held them entranced, clapping their hooves and chanting her name.
Though her performance had ended, the tide of her tears was unstemmed. With care and reverence, she packed away her contrabass, lovingly placing the instrument inside its velvet-lined case. She ran a thoughtful hoof over the strings, and they whispered to her sweetly in a language only the two of them could understand. The gray earth pony closed the case fondly and carried it off-stage, passing by Lyra and Vinyl Scratch as she walked. Only now did she take the time to wipe the tears from her eye.
She hated crying onstage. Her tears fell freely, but not for the beautiful melody she had just played. Why would they? She had written them herself, practiced each so long and so fully they had grown rote. Nor did she weep for joy. She craved the adoration of the audience, their love of her art, as much as any musician. But it was nothing she hadn’t experienced before. They always loved her.
She wept for herself; for her deep and unquenchable loneliness, made all the more pronounced by the distant adoration of the audience. In the wake of her performance, she would be the talk of Salt Lick City, as she had been in almost every city where she had played. But it would never last. She had no family. None that she cared to visit with. Most of them simply asked for hoof-outs and loans. She had no friends. Except the one that came in a bottle.
The only one who would never judge her and never use her.
“Great performance Octy!” Vinyl Scratch cheered as she galloped to catch up to the sullen mare. “I knew you were the right choice for tonight!” Lyra hurried to join the group, trotting alongside the white DJ’s flank.
“Thank you for the invitation, Scratch,” Octavia said flatly. “It was my pleasure.” Not stopping to converse further, she continued towards her tent. Vinyl Scratch became more hesitant to follow as the crowd’s cheering and cries for an encore grew to a roar in the night sky.
“Sorry girls... gotta run,” Vinyl Scratch said, gesturing towards the crowd. “Don’t want to keep the fans waiting. We should hang out sometime, miss Octavia.” The gray mare stopped abruptly, turning to face the fleeing white unicorn as she made her way back to the stage. Lyra walked up and interposed herself in the mare’s confused gaze, smiling brightly. Her bright amber eyes sparkled with excitement and admiration.
“Hey!” The minty green unicorn greeted her enthusiastically. “You were awesome!”
“Yes... well... thank you,” Octavia said reservedly, turning from the gushing mare to her tent. “Goodnight, Lyra.”
“Goodnight?” Lyra said, a look of sadness immediately replacing her earlier enthusiasm. She dashed to get ahead of the retreating pony, stopping her in her tracks. “You can’t go to bed yet!” Octavia rolled her eyes, regarding the intruding pony with annoyance. “Bon Bon and I are going to join the crowd. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Come with you?” Octavia sneered incredulously, smirking. She pointed at the riot of ponies now cheering amongst the thumping bass. “In that crowd? I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on!” Lyra insisted, flashing her brilliant white smile. Octavia shifted uncomfortably before the glowing display. “I want all my friends to hang out together.” The gray mare’s smirk faded, her eyes softening as she regarded the minty mare. “Come on! There are more bands playing. There’s sooo much cool music to hear!”
Octavia’s resolve returned. She turned her nose up at the crestfallen Lyra. “That is noise... not music.” Lyra’s ears lay flat against her head, and she took a step back.
“Sorry... I...” Lyra started, her voice quivering. “I didn’t mean to offend...”
“And another thing,” Octavia interrupted brazenly, stepping closer to the mare. “I have more shows to attend, and need my rest. I cannot just ‘hang out’ whenever I want.” Lyra turned away, her head hung low. She stopped and looked back at the fuming mare, tears forming in the wells of her eyes.
“I... I thought we were friends,” Lyra said sadly, trotting quickly away, big tears dripping from her eyes.
“I thought we were friends!” Octavia mocked in annoyance, pacing back and forth carrying her contrabass. “Ha! Why would I need friends when I have all...” she gestured to her empty tent, her rage fleeing as her voice matched her teary eyes. “...this.” She sat down on the dirt and looked over her shoulder at the crowd, her ears low. She turned from the festivities and trotted on alone.
Somberly, she made her way towards her tent. Nopony was around, the camping area more or less vacant until after the Summer Sun rose early in the morning. The crowd screamed cheers of excitement as DJ pon3’s return was announced over the intercom. The sudden roar of Vinyl Scratch’s bass threatened to destroy the long peace of Equestria.
I thought we were friends.
Octavia sat her contrabass’s case next to its twin. She sneered at the strange case, hating the sacrilege of such a fine piece of equipment sitting next to an abomination against the art of music. She grabbed a bottle of fine wine from the table in her tent, plopping down on her bed and pulling the covers over her. She bit the cork, freeing it with a tug and a pop. She spat the sweet-smelling stopper across the tent. She couldn’t bring herself to care where it went as she lay her head on her pillow.
I thought we were friends.
Wincing, she took her first pull. It was warm, but she didn’t mind. Not as much as she would have any other night. Though she had prayed for silence, the sound of music leaked through her cloth tent without resistance. She pulled her pillow over her face and screamed into it, the sound muffled. The moisture from her expelled breath was hot and wet against her face.
I thought we were friends.
Octavia threw the pillow across the room and took a deep breath, her tear-stained face quivering with the promise of more tears. She took a long pull from the bottle, the alcohol warming her belly. She laid her head on the cot, now frustrated by the absence of her soft pillow, holding the bottle up high above her head. She wished everypony would just go away. That everypony would be quiet and leave her alone. She closed her eyes and wished harder than she had ever wished.
I thought we were friends.
She opened her eyes, to find to her shock that the music had stopped. Everything was as still and silent as the grave. Still holding the bottle above her, she wondered if she was dreaming. She gave a surprised squeak as holes were punched in the tightly-stretched fabric of her tent, sharp objects ripping through it faster than she could follow. The bottle that she was holding shattered as one shot through the container, glass and flecks of red liquid pelting her body. Bloodcurdling screams rose into the night air, followed by the shadows of a mass of ponies in a mad dash of panicked ponies fleeing past her tent. Her eyes widened in shock. She had not wished for this.
“Die!”
The voice was not in her mind. She shivered to believe such a sound might come from her head. She could hear it screeching from outside. Octavia leapt up and ran to the door flap of the tent. Gazing out one of the holes in the flap, she could see the bedlam the festival had turned into. Quickly she wiped herself off with a towel and grabbed her contrabass, running outside.
Ponies were fleeing past her tent, away from the central stage. Most seemed unhurt, but the ones who were not were pierced with sharp needles visibly dripping a viscous fluid. They cried in pain and anguish as though burning, their friends tugging them away from the still-unseen source of the disturbance. A few lay motionlessly on the ground, killed instantly by a lucky barb, eyes glazed over. Octavia wished she didn’t drink, coughing and sputtering, covering her mouth with a hoof.
She turned to flee along with the other ponies, wishing to escape her own killing wound, and came to a sudden stop as she heard a plea for help from a familiar voice.
Lyra.
Turning to look back at the stage, her heart pounding, she found that her hooves would not move. She stood trembling, her mind wishing to flee, her body denying her. Lyra needed help.
I thought we were friends.
“Damn pony is gonna get me killed,” she said with a bittersweet smile, dashing towards the stage.
*******
“Die!” The scarlet scorpion rasped. Around him lay the bodies of those ponies unlucky enough to be caught by the first wave of his attack as he cut his way to the center stage. He had burrowed under the mass of partying ponies and exploded upwards, spinning and slashing, stabbing and biting.
They never had a chance.
He stopped to look at the dead, delight burning in his blue eyes. He scooped up a pile of the corpses in his fangs, crushing and chewing them with his mangled teeth.
“You monster!” Cried Lyra from the stage, her face a mixture of rage and horror. The contents of her stomach roiled at the sight of the beast taking his gruesome meal. She held a hoof to her mouth to attempt to stem the tide of vomit that threatened to rush out. Ponies fled from him still, towards the desert. Her voice became a frightened whisper. “What are you?”
“Spite,” he gurgled horribly, remnants of half-chewed ponies spilling out on the floor. That macabre display was all the additional stimulation Lyra needed to unleash the contents of her stomach. She retched onto the stage, choking and gasping.
What could only tenuously be called the scorpion’s face twisted into a razor’s smile as it watched her try to regain her composure. It advanced steadily toward the stage, its legs casually scattering the fallen corpses, now and then skewering or mauling them.
“What do you want!?” Lyra screamed at the monster, eyes welling up with tears.
“Thee!” Spite answered, raising a claw to point at her. He chuckled deeply, the minty-green unicorn trembling like a leaf at the terrible noise. “Suffer!” The glow of his blue eyes waxed in intensity as she stared at them, unable to turn away.
Lyra began to scream. She found herself unable to turn away from the horrible glow. Her body convulsed violently as her shrill scream became a piercing wail. Fleeing ponies stopped to look at the mare in peril, only to spare her a pitying glance before resuming their flight. Lyra’s eyes turned red, bloodshot and pouring tears from the psychological pressure of the anguish racking her suddenly frail-seeming body, as she cried out piteously for somepony to kill her.
Without much warning, the deadly staring contest was over. Something had interrupted her line of sight.
Still trembling, she sucked in a long, sobbing breath. Instead of staring at the creatures’ eyes, she was looking into her own bloodshot amber orbs, her face wet with still-flowing tears and streaks of light pink which she couldn’t be entirely certain was not her blood. Her eyes slowly focused on the gold record floating in front of her face, a light blue aura of magic suffusing it. She looked to her left and saw a smiling white unicorn wearing shades.
“Buck n’ Shout,” Vinyl Scratch said. With a casual flip of a hoof, she lifted her glasses, revealing her magenta eyes and giving Lyra a wink. “First of my songs to ever top the charts.” She turned to look at the scorpion, her casual smile fading into disgust as she methodically lowered her shades into business position once more, her mouth emitting a small and seemingly subconscious noise like a pressure valve releasing as she did so. “Which is a pity for you.”
The golden record spun even faster than before, its terrific speed cutting the air with a loud whirring noise. With a jerk of the white unicorn’s head, the record-turned-sawblade flew from the stage and down towards the crimson monster. Raising his giant claw, he swatted the disc from the air, breaking it in half. He turned his incensed glare on her, eyes burning with the same glow with which he had terrorized Lyra a moment ago.
“Sorry, bub,” Vinyl Scratch said with another smile. She poked a hoof at her glasses. “It was a gamble... but I figured you needed to see past these beauties to do what you did to my friend there. Glad I was right.” Behind her, a duffle bag unzipped and dozens of golden records floated into the air with a warm magical hum. “And don’t you go worrying that the show is over. I got plenty of hits for us to spin up together.”
The records began to simultaneously spin in the same violent fashion as before, filling the air with the razorblade whir of their superfast revolutions. They rocketed towards the scorpion, too fast to be seen by the naked eye. He raised his tail and claws and began to swipe and sting at them, but the angry-sounding records circled around him like hornets who had just lost their jobs. Lashing out at killing speed with his tail, he missed and hit the ground instead, his tail digging in deep. Vinyl Scratch’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses.
“Now you're mine!” She screamed as her horn’s luminescence intensified. All the discs rocketed towards him at once, striking home. The rotating record-blades spun viciously against his shell, sparks flying. Black blood poured out as the creature roared in pain, some of the blades breaching softer parts of his carapace. The white unicorn smiled happily and cheered. “Oh yeah!”
“Fools!” Spite shrieked at the ponies on stage, the spinning edges digging still-deeper. The spines on his back quivered and shook. With a roar of pain, the spines shot into the sky, knocking away many of the golden disks, the rest falling down like a hail of deadly arrows. Lyra and Vinyl Scratch galloped as fast as their hooves could carry them, taking cover behind a bank of stereo equipment. Not a moment later, spines started to thunk loudly around them, piercing through the wood and steel of the stage. A single barb lodged directly above Lyra’s head, sticking through a speaker. The terrible scorpion laughed as the dust settled around them. He pointed an enormous claw at them. “Go!” The two mares on stage looked at each other in confusion.
The blood running down his hard carapace dripped into the sand, intermixing with it. The ground began to crawl as though something wriggled beneath the surface, trying to reach air. The sand popped upwards as if hundreds of soda bottles had been opened all at once, smaller versions of himself skittering out of it. A screeching chorus of enraged scorpions flooded up towards the stage, climbing the wood and dashing towards them.
“Get out of here!” Vinyl Scratch shouted, giving Lyra a hard shove towards the stage exit. She draped her magic around the records now lying strewn across the desert and pulled them to herself, spinning them in a whirling cyclone of flashing gold. Dashing towards the miniature monsters, she began cutting them to ribbons, the small host screeching as they died in droves. But more were crawling over their dead to get at her. Their numbers were too great, and she was forced to fight a desperate retreat against the tiny horde.
One of the little monsters latched onto her leg, pincers tugging at her flesh, its stinger burying itself deep. Sharp pain shot through her leg, the wound turning red instantly. She shook it off as another climbed her tail, stinger plunging cruelly into her flank. She cried out in pain as she lost control of her spinning death-records, sending them flying around recklessly, thudding into the freshly-sanded wood of the stage. She felt the pull of the poison as her senses left her. She staggered and fell heavily. Triumphantly, the scorpions descended on the DJ as she struggled to get to her feet. One came to eye level, tiny jaws slavering as its stinger glistened with wicked venom.
A vibrant flash of blue, accompanied by a light melody, swept the insect violently away. Lyra galloped forward, harp floating beside her as she kicked the little bugs off of the DJ. She reached a hoof down and hauled the woozy popular artist to her hooves. Turning to face the rest of the approaching scorpions, she magically plucked on her harp, twin blasts of blue force lashing out and crushing them, the rest scattering and splitting forces as they charged.
“Thanks,” Vinyl Scratch said weakly, her voice dry. She coughed and watched the insects coming closer. “Glad you decided to hang around.”
“No problem,” Lyra said, gritting her teeth. Another quick strum of her lyre and a circle of magic appeared around them. The ring expanded steadily outwards, burning any insects it touched. “Least we can do is give everypony else a running start.” With an offkey strum, the shield exploded, sending the tiny invaders flying backwards. “Sound good to you?”
“Suffer!” Spite growled furiously, his needles quivering. The attentions of the two unicorns snapped back to the colossal menace they had chosen to ignore in lieu of the swarm. “Die!”
A thick barrage of needles blotted out the moon above.
*******
“You have to get out of here!” Bon Bon shouted through the glut of ponies fleeing from behind the stage. Octavia was shocked by her sudden appearance, rearing in fright. Galloping over to the grey mare, she set her head to her flank and pushed her away frantically. “Go! They’re trying to hold it back!”
“Hold what back!?” Octavia asked, still being pushed away by the cream-colored pony. She sat down, accidentally depositing the worried mare flat on her face. “Wait! What’s happening!?”
“A giant scorpion... thing is attacking!” Bon Bon blurted out as she stood again, shaking herself off. “I tried to get Lyra to run, but she wouldn’t leave!” Her voice cracked as tears glistened in her impressively blue eyes.
Octavia thought for only a moment before walking up the steps leading through blue curtains to the stage. She felt more afraid than she had ever been. She turned her head to look back at the worried mare. A shaky smile lit her face, making her even prettier, Octavia couldn’t help but notice.
“I’ll get her,” Octavia said calmly, turning and approaching the curtain. With a hoof she carefully moved it, only peeking out despite her former bravado.
On the other side, she saw Lyra Heartstrings and Vinyl Scratch sitting together, each leaning on the other for support as they panted, pierced with many tiny sharp needles. Their blood dripped onto the stage as the monster quivered and shook, its needles loosening. He unleashed another barrage into the night air, rocketing upwards and raining down on them again.
Grimacing tiredly, Lyra’s horn lit up as she pulled up a weak shield. Though a hundred or more of the needles struck the surface of the blue shield uselessly and fell to the stage, the fatigued pony couldn’t hold it for the entirety of the barrage. They threw themselves out of the direct path of the painful swarm, but still, a few of the needles found their marks, thunking home into the bleeding coats of both ponies, who screamed in pain. The needles in their coats dripped a glistening venom.
“Delightful!” Screeched the giant scorpion. His voice inspired an immediate fight-or-flight sensation in Octavia, in which she had to admit the former choice was winning. Thinking of the tortured mares on the stage, she stood her ground. The giant scorpion thing shook through once more as it fired again. “Scream!”
This time, DJ Pon3’s horn flared red, raising a shield against the needles. Like Lyra’s it only repelled the bulk. Some others found their way to their targets, even as the tired mares not so much leapt as fell out of the main path. They were too tired to scream. The stage backing behind them, and the wooden floor below, were thick with needles.
He laughed in horrible joy as the two mares stayed down. Vinyl scratch simply lay in a trembling heap, while Lyra crawled her way closer to her lyre, the needles on her soft belly scratching the wooden stage as small involuntary noises of desperation escaped her mouth. “More!” His voice thundered raucously as he began to vibrate again.
Octavia began to cry. For the first time in her life she cried not for herself, but for the terrible pain of the two extraordinary ponies trying to save her. She watched as Lyra sat up, lyre in her teeth, eyes tired slits. She saw Vinyl Scratch pull herself up behind the bloody mint-green pony, leaning against her. She saw the scorpion gurgle out a laugh amongst the twisted remnants of his first attack.
I thought we were friends.
She couldn’t stand idly by anymore. She raced onto the stage, her hooves carrying her as fast as they could, as the monster fired another thick barrage of needles at the stationary pair. With a great heave, she threw her contrabass case towards the two. The strap of the case left her mouth last. Never again would she feel the quiet comfort of its weight resting on her shoulders. Never again would it feel her embrace when she played it. She screamed something illegible as it flew in between the needles and the mares, impact sounds filling the air as it was viciously bombarded.
“Goodbye, old friend,” Octavia said with sorrow as the instrument was reduced to splinters, preserving the lives of the two dumbstruck mares. She turned her gaze behind her to Bon Bon, who had just peeked through, her eyes filled with worry. “Bon Bon.”
“Yes!?” The cream-colored mare asked, her voice tight and hoarse.
“My tent,” Octavia said flatly. “Go get my other case. Hurry.”
Bon Bon chanced another look at Lyra and winced. Turning, she galloped off. Octavia trotted over to stand next to the two gory mares. Lyra looked up at her with wide eyes. The grey earth pony gave her a weak smile, her gaze slowly taking in the sad remnants of her most prized possession.
“Your... your instrument,” Lyra said weakly, coughing up blood. “How... how could you?”
“I didn’t much like it anyways,” Octavia said with a taut smile, a tear running down her face. “Besides... I...” She wiped away her freely-flowing tears. “I thought we were friends.”
Lyra reached over and gave the grey pony something she had not felt since the orphanage. A hug. Octavia cried into the blood-spattered mare's mane. Vinyl Scratch leaned over and put a hoof on Octavia’s back, a knowing smile spreading on her face. The moment was shattered by a deep laugh.
“Touching!” Spite spat. He crawled towards the mares casually. He hoisted himself onto the stage, his fiery blue eyes ablaze with seething hatred. He laughed, and Octavia felt her blood freeze. “Disappear!” His spines quivered again as he readied another attack, leaning with his back directly facing them, the spines making a noise like a guitar's strings being plucked excitedly.
Lyra and Vinyl Scratch both pushed Octavia behind them as shields simultaneously crackled to life. The blue and red were interwoven, producing a bright sphere of light lilac. Their eyes widened in shock at the strange sight, and they shared a surprised glance. The creature unleashed a barrage at close range, but every needle clattered uselessly to the stage.
“Spellweaving?” Lyra said in astonishment, her eyes lit up excitedly as the fading shield around her began to mysteriously tend her wounds. The motes of light falling were healing her cuts. She quickly began pulling out the needles, the wounds closing and disappearing as she did. As the foreign objects were removed, her face lit with relief, her pain visibly washing away in the joined light of the three mares’ friendship.
“Guess we got more in common than we thought!” Vinyl Scratch cheered. The spines in her body glowed with sheaths of light as she pulled them out. Although she held her breath, she couldn’t help but emit a short, sharp scream. She hung her head, trembling for a moment, before raising her eyes to meet those of the scorpion. Her wounds began to heal from the gently-falling magic lights. A sly smile spread across her face as she took up a combative posture. “Well, I guess we gonna have to pump up the volume!” With a flash of DJ Pon3’s horn, all the spotlights to spark to life. “Round 2!” She shouted, baring her white teeth in fierce joy.
The creature gave a gurgling hiss and covered its eyes with a claw. Magic wrapped around Lyra’s lyre as amplifiers simultaneously crackled to life. The minty-green mare looked over at her in confusion for only a moment before her eyes suddenly sparkled with inspiration.
“I’d stand back, Octy!” Lyra shouted as she wrapped her energy around her instrument, a wicked grin on her face. “This show is far from over.” She cocked her head over at Vinyl Scratch and shouted. “Hey DJ... spin that shit!”
Teleporting to the control panel in a disco-colored explosion of magic, Vinyl Scratch grabbed the volume control knob with a hoof and spun it all the way up. The button broke once it passed ten. The air sparked to life as white noise filled the air. The scorpion looked up at the speakers and growled.
“Hit that!” Vinyl Scratch shouted, giving a simultaneous hoof pump.
Octavia watched with astonishment as Lyra strummed hard on her lyre, magic coursing through it and expelling through the stages many speakers. An enormous rush of sound waves pushed against the monster, pressing it back. It slid a few meters and smashed its legs into the wood stage. Fury in its eyes, it looked up at them. Lyra smiled happily at it.
“Oh... that's not all!” Lyra challenged as she hit the strings again, her magic pouring into the speakers. The sound struck the monster, but he was anchored into the stage now and stayed put. Above him, lightning struck down from the night sky. He stared up at it for a moment and then turned to face her. He spat furiously. “That’s right... that’s all me baby!” She gave a powerful strum, bringing more lightning down on him.
The golden disks stuck in the wood tore out noisily, forming a stairway into the air. Vinyl Scratch ran up them, her magic lashing out into her duffel bag once again, pulling out four platinum disks. She laughed as she got to the top, directly above Spite, and jumped off. Falling towards him the disks spun around her as she twirled through the air.
“Four hits, just for you!” The white coated unicorn screamed. She reached out for Lyra’s magic and felt an exultant rush as it connected with hers. Lightning flashed and struck the four discs as she fell, charging them. Spite slid heavily away from her point of impact, the glowing pony viciously slicing the stage where he had been. It exploded in the fury of a maelstrom, sand and slivers of wood kicking up in every direction, swallowing the mad DJ.
Octavia struggled to see through the debris. Four separate lines of lightning, moving in the dust cloud, caught the scorpion’s attention and he quickly charged at them. Stabbing viciously at the center, he cried out in rage and frustration as his tail hit only sand. Vinyl Scratch leapt from the dust at his side, a dozen glowing golden records following in her wake, and lashed out at the beast. Lightning from another deafening strum charged the discs, and as they hit him, he was launched backwards by a furious cyclone of electricity. The DJ slid to a halt and gave a hoofs-up to her partner.
Lyra was screaming at her from the stage.
The gray mare watched in horror as Lyra continued shouting. Turning around, Vinyl Scratch looked around for the vanished scorpion. Her eyes went wide as she leapt into the air, landing on a floating gold disk. The scorpion burst out from beneath her, launching hundreds of spines. She brought up a shield and it shattered, barely deflecting the needles away from her. The force of the attack knocked her off of her disc, and she landed on the desert surface with a thud, lying winded on her back.
Lyra screamed and strummed the lyre hard, sending more lightning running through the scorpion. He seemed not to register it as he quickly skittered over to the fallen pony. Opening his massive maw, stained with both his black blood and the red blood of ponies, he made to swallow her whole. Vinyl Scratch’s horn glowed brightly, two platinum disks erupting out of the sand, cutting into the soft parts at the corners of his mouth. His lower jaw hung slack and open for a moment as some of his jagged teeth fell on her. She squealed in disgust, rolling out of the way as his blood began to intermix with the sand.
Spite lashed out with his tail, its needle stabbing towards the mare's head. She raised a disc quickly, the needle passing through the eye of the record, coming to a stop centimeters from her retina. She blinked in horror. Diving away, the platinum records in his mouth and on his tail shattered. She attacked him with her remaining records, but the scorpion slapped them out of the air with ease, the platinum shattering.
Small scorpions came at her in a tide, rising from the great scorpion’s blood in the sand. With a furious scream, Lyra strummed once again, fire sparking to life as Vinyl Scratch leapt onto the stage, the desert floor covered in the now-burning corpses of ponies. The desert surface became as glass.
Spite walked on it without pain, its surface cracking and shattering where his unnatural legs touched. The magic flames did little to harm him. He seemed almost to enjoy the heat.
Vinyl Scratch slid to a stop next to a weary Lyra, both panting hard. Lyra dropped her lyre as if it weighed as much as a mountain. She took a look at the white DJ and smiled. Vinyl Scratch gave her a nod and pulled her last three disks around her as the scorpion climbed up the stage once more, jaws grinding and growling, the earlier damage healed. They hugged each other, tears in their eyes.
“Get a room,” Octavia said from behind them. Bon Bon was trembling beside her, the handle of a black cello case gripped tightly in her teeth. Octavia frowned. “Let’s hope the old stallion was right.”
Taking the case from the frightened cream-colored pony, she laid it gently on the ground. Reverently, she opened the case, recoiling from the sickening sight below her. Resignation in her eyes, she pulled out a solid black contrabass with a pure white bow. Standing in her customary pose, she placed the bow against the strings, a sneer on her face. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and drew the bow across the strings. Vibrant purple runes lit up along the instrument. They spread across its entirety and ran up her hoof to her body. She opened her eyes, which flared a piercing vermillion.
She began to play, the melody one she didn’t know. It was soft yet fierce. Beautiful but frightening. She felt the hoof of the heavens upon her. Magic. Something earth ponies almost never experienced without the use of magitech equipment. It felt wonderful. Powerful. It frightened her terribly.
Spite’s eyes went wide in shock as power lashed out of the strange instrument, running along the ground and through the air. Octavia didn’t care to see what she was sending out at the creature. As usual, her mind was wholly on the performance, and at the moment, on its terminus. She picked up the tempo, the first of the waves reaching him and exploding against his carapace, sending him flying back into the glassy desert floor. Lyra and Vinyl Scratch’s eyes went wide, their jaws dropping in shock. Barely luminescent shrouds of power swirled around the earth pony as she played.
“Impossible!” Spite growled, fury seething from his eyes. His mouth tore open painfully, his speech causing blood to pour from his mouth, running out and spattering. “We have seen thy kind perish! Thou hast no place in this world!” He vibrated, his needles coming free again, but Octavia finished the performance with a screeching draw of her bow against the strings. She thought she could see a pair of wings pass by her face. The force drove into his face, crushing it inward, his teeth exploding outwards as he fell over.
“Wow!” Lyra cried out in shock and excitement. The creature began to stir, her ears lowering. Slowly he sank beneath the sand and was gone. Lyra grinned happily and limped over to Octavia.
“What... what happened?” Octavia asked in confusion, her eyes returning to their normal pink hue.
“You don’t remember?” Vinyl Scratch asked as she joined the minty-green mare beside her. “You just went all medieval on that thing’s plot!”
“I... I did?” Octavia stuttered in shock. She looked over at the magical instrument Treble Clop had given her. Her face went pale. She pushed the contrabass over and dropped the bow, her hoof trembling. “I... I played that!?”
“You sure did!” Lyra said happily, dashing up and giving the gray mare a hug.
“And a good thing for us, too!” Vinyl Scratch said joining in the hug.
“Guess that means we’re...” Octavia muttered.
“Friends!” Both Lyra and Vinyl Scratch chimed in at the same time, both poking Octavia on the nose with their hooves. They laughed and hugged her tightly, her heart fluttering around wildly inside her chest. She felt happy for the first time in forever.
“Girls... I don’t want to be rude...but,” Octavia started, smiling a reserved smile down at the mares.
“But what?” They both asked.
“Well, you see...” Octavia said shyly, pushing the two mares away from her. “You're getting blood all over me.” They looked at each other and laughed, for a reason none of them could understand.
*******
Misery watched the mass of ponies seething happily in the great courtyard below the royal castle, all eager to see their Sun Princess raise the sun and banish the moon this early morning. Murmurs of a disaster in Manehattan rolled quietly through the excited audience. Most ponies disregarded such far-fetched gossip. Misery smiled inwardly, knowing that soon they would choke on the truth.
Swiftly he spread himself out, splitting into thousands of Miseries. He bound himself to places that would be in shadow when exposed to the light of the sun. Underneath ponies, on the lee of every stone and blade of grass, and in crevasses never illuminated by light. One of his shadows bound itself beneath a brown colt with glowing pink eyes. A colt who smiled down at the slightly darker shadow engulfing his own.
“Greetings, Lord,” Treachery whispered, an evil smile on his face. “I cannot wait for the festivities to begin.”
A thin tendril of shadow detached from the ground, snaking its way up to the colt’s ear. A small mouth with sharp black teeth opened on it, strands of shadowy saliva stretching between the lips, as it wormed its way inside the colt’s ear canal. Misery’s voice was a whisper only the colt could hear.
“When the alicorn raises the sun, I shall make my move,” Misery spoke softly. “Thy part shall be to infest the hearts and minds of the Canterlot ponies with thy glorious contagion, thereby making my business easier.”
“But of course,” the brown colt affirmed. He looked to his right, and saw a unicorn stallion staring at him, confusion on his face. He turned to face the stallion, his eyes glowing vibrantly. “Go thee now and end thyself in some quiet way. Thy wife hates thee... she cuckolds thee with wild abandon. Thy children are disappointments and will achieve nothing. Better they be without.”
The unicorn walked slowly away, his head hung low as he pondered his final moments. Treachery smiled brightly and looked to the shadow below him. He gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.
High up on a balcony lined with gold, Celestia emerged, a chorus of glorious trumpets heralding her arrival. Misery’s many shadows leered wickedly up at the mare, though he knew she could not see him. Behind her, six other mares emerged, taking up positions at her flanks. Misery’s many eyes narrowed at the sight of the Bearers, a momentary doubt passing over his diseased heart. But the moment passed, and he laughed to himself. The trumpets ceased their clamor as everypony lapsed into a respectful silence.
Celestia bowed her head regally to the crowd, a sign of royal respect. Holy magic gathered on the tip of her horn, glowing a dim white. With a single flap of her downy wings, she leapt into the air, head held high, and her horn exploded with vibrant light. Misery lusted openly for the princess’ power as the sun rose at her command, lighting all of her domain in its gentle, warming glow. He retreated into the shadows beneath the ponies, hidden away from the sun’s agonizing shine. She landed once more beside her awestruck entourage, their wide eyes sparkling as one.
“Welcome, everypony, to this year’s Summer Sun Celebration,” she announced proudly to the crowd, who now cheered and stomped their hooves on the ground. Misery quietly willed them to hold still. It was difficult to say the least to keep more than five thousand ponies out of the harmful rays of the sun. The princess’s expression grew somber as her tone turned serious. “Sadly, the festivities of this particular celebration will remain bittersweet.” Everypony began murmured worriedly to one another.
“You all may have heard that something terrible has happened in Manehattan,” Princess Celestia’s voice shook. The ponies at her side looked worriedly at each other. She gathered herself and spoke with conviction. “I’m afraid it’s true. Manehattan has been destroyed.” Everypony gasped, fretting and talking amongst themselves in confusion and fear. The princess raised her hoof to silence them, demanding their attention. “Please everypony, calm down. While the details of the event are sketchy at best... my top forensic ponies have informed me that there were very few deaths in the catastrophe.” She looked furtively down at the purple unicorn at her side, her voice no more than a whisper. “Spike was not among them.” The unicorn seemed to relax only a little. The crowd shouted up at the balcony.
“What caused it!?”
“How many were killed!?”
“Did it have something to do with that creepy moon!?”
“What do we do!?”
“PLEASE EVERYPONY, CALM YOURSELVES!” Celestia’s normally calming voice boomed out over the city. No pony present had ever heard the princess use the royal Canterlot voice. They stared at her in shock, falling to silence. She wore a knowing smile. “The royal guard will protect everypony in the city. I am sending extra security throughout Equestria.” Behind her, a guard approached, holding in his hooves a gem-studded case. He opened it reverently, revealing the Elements of Harmony. Celestia turned and smiled at the mares behind her, worry in their eyes. “What’s more... I am mobilizing the Elements of Harmony. As before, they shall be given the task of defending our realm from this unknown aggressor. There is nothing to fear.”
“Nothing to fear?” Misery’s voice echoed from beneath everypony in attendance. “Surely I have caught thee at a jape, dear princess.” Everypony looked for the source of the voice, fright and panic beginning to grow. Their shadows rippled and rolled beneath them, sending a sudden and terrible panic through the crowd. The shadows reached skyward, forming one great and terrible black raven. Green flames licked off of his vorpal flesh. Misery’s agony was terrific, but he kept his pain from reaching his expression.
Instead, he leered strangely at the Sun Princess. “Unknown? Thy royal tongue rots with the foulness of thy falsehood.” He looked out on the gathered ponies. “Thy precious princess knowest exactly who we are.” He cocked his giant head at Celestia. “Or hast thou forgotten sweet but terrible tales, told by the warm and friendly night-fires of thy foalhood?” His face twisted into its cruel and unnatural leer. Celestia looked on in horror as the bird flapped its great wings, the green flames burning off of them roaring brightly before her. The Bearers hid behind her, trembling. “Tell them, sweet Daystar. Tell them the name of those who bring their doom.”
“You!” Celestia growled, teeth clenched. She made her face neutral once again, and looked out on her troubled ponies. She scowled at the bird and spoke like a trumpet. “The furies have awakened.” Misery smiled a wicked smile at the princess as the crowd fretted in nervous confusion. Only a few gaped in utter horror. She growled at him with a ferocity nopony would have expected from the lovely alicorn princess. “But we will stop you.”
“Bravely spoken,” Misery chortled, pleased with her display. The agony of the sun’s rays on his glossy feathers almost overtook him for a moment. He emptied his expression of any feeling. “We are older than thee. Wiser than thee. And hath infinitely more power than thee. Thy Elements are but dull rocks and wan trinkets when matched against us. Thine eyes and thy mind are ours to shape to our own ends. Thy sister fell before us, two nights gone. A lamb at the altar of our power. Thy only recourse is that to which the leader unequal to the leading has ever fallen: to salve thy people’s clamor with lies, and leave them to choke on their own blood. Even now, the poor ponies of Salt Lick City go to a mass tomb.”
Celestia stared in horror at the bird, shock and disbelief on her face.
“Didst thou not know?” Misery continued in his cruel mockery of mercy. His eyes, flashing the color of disease and decay, swept over the crowd. “Taking thy tea, no doubt? Languishing in opulence whilst thy people writhe in agony.” The ponies below lay prostrate and trembling, cowering in a fear they had never known or imagined at his terrible presence. His head stretched unnaturally away from his neck, his sea-green eyes leering down on them. “Thou needest no longer fear ignorance... my dear sweet ponies. I shall fill thy cups to the brim with the bitter draught of sooth.” His wicked grin stretched past the confounds of his beak, unnaturally spreading from wing to wing. “In half a fortnight’s time... in the blackest of black night, the great city of Cloudsdale shall rot, and fall from the sky, collapsing beneath its own swollen, overcivilized bulk.” Disgust was in his horrible eyes. “The pegasi shall fly for home, but no home shall they find in my Equestrian skies.” He laughed vaguely to himself. “But they will suffer only a little. For by that time, every soul-candle that now burns in that foul city shall be extinguished.”
Now certain that he could no longer keep the agony of the sun out of his face, and feeling it threatening to turn his shadowy form into an inferno, he turned and darted away, a green and orange ball of fire. The screams of fright on the wind swelled his heart with joy as he left Canterlot, making his way towards the shadow of the mountain to which it clung. He thought he heard a voice behind him. His neck snapped and popped as he turned to find its source.
A rainbow-maned cerulean pegasus was chasing him, an Element of Harmony around her neck. She gained on him slowly, at which he arched his brow. Impressive. His body became smoke but moved at the same pace. When he came back together he faced the mare. He laughed as she gained on him.
“Tell me,” he rasped at her as they passed Mount Majestic. “What Element hast thou? Which Bearer is foolish enough to chase that which cannot be caught?”
“Loyalty!” Rainbow Dash cried, her speed increasing, the air around her rippling. Her voice was cocky. “And I can catch you!”
“Perhaps,” Misery strained out, drained from the punishment of the sun. “But what then wilt thou do?” He laughed as shadows detached from his body, rocketing towards her as oily black liquid. “Mayhap a demonstration of my power shall cow thee!”
Rainbow Dash’s eyes widened as the dark orbs flew at her. She tried to stop, rolling away from the foreign attack. One drop stuck to her right wing, latching onto the downy feathers. Misery rasped a terrible laugh as the mare let out a bloodcurdling scream, losing control of her flight and dropping towards the treetops below. He watched as the blackened, rotting remains of a skeletal wing dropped down to its former owner, as though coming home. With a beat of his wings he flew to the dark side of the mountain and vanished into the shadows. He felt content with the pain the mare had felt, the pain she would feel, had she survived the fall.
As he lay hidden, his agony finally relieved, he allowed his mind to wander to the only shadow he had left in Canterlot. One attached to the brown colt, who was happily playing on the fears of the ponies around him. And everypony was frightened. For the first time ever, many ponies doubted their Princess. If she had meant to keep this from them, what else might she be hiding, everypony wondered?
Misery chuckled to himself. He watched as the other Bearers and Celestia gave chase to the blue pegasus. Leading them was a pink wolf, sniffing at the air as she followed the scent.
“That is Tempest?” Misery whispered to the colt inquisitively.
“Yes,” Treachery replied. His face twisted with rage. “I couldn’t feel her either.”
“Thou hast seen her in this guise before, no?” The shadow asked.
“Indeed,” Treachery agreed thoughtfully. “But not since we awoke.”
The wolf stopped running and looked in Treachery’s direction. The colt jumped in fright. He stepped behind a stallion who was huddling in fear and pretended to weep, gaining instant sympathy from the surrounding ponies.
“Gale, what is it?” Rarity asked. The wolf slowly turned away from the brown filly and continued. The rest followed quickly behind, rushing out the courtyard and into the city.
Princess Luna appeared on the balcony, followed by six royal guards, as well as Fleur de Lis and Phalanx. She had a grim aspect in her eyes as she stepped onto the precipice to address her subjects. She had no qualms about using the Royal Canterlot voice, and she addressed them sternly.
“CITIZENS OF EQUESTRIA!” She shouted and they gave her their attention. “PLEASE, RETURN TO THY HOMES! PREPARE THYSELVES FOR THE HORRORS TO COME!” Confident of having everypony’s attention, she shifted to a more normal tone. “Equestria is now officially in a state of emergency.” The ponies in the crowd exchanged grave looks. “Those who are both able to fight and who wish to do so may report to Commander Phalanx immediately. Make no mistake, my ponies. We are at war.”
Author’s Notes
Another big shout out to you the reader. Also as always thank you to my editor Malthusite. Guy cant seem to get enough pony in between watching reruns and writing his own fan fiction, Hoof of the North Star. Chapter eight will be out soon!