Luminescence

by Eventide Indigo

Emortuus

The sky was a monochromatic display of fading beauty.

The clouds had darkened, like the frown and the quivering lip of a misbehaved child threatening to throw a tantrum. It was not a tempest on the horizon, but the very end of days, calm and eerily serene as it swept across Equestria in a path of abolition.

I looked on with tears biting at the back of my throat. All around me I saw ponies with placid smiles on their faces as they strolled to their homes to lock themselves away for the night.

You fools! I screamed mentally. Stay with your loved ones, so that you may die in their embrace!

My conscience screamed at me, pleading for me to release the hold on my tongue so that I may speak the truth. I clamped my teeth down, drawing blood, as I supposed from the taste. I hadn’t the time to worry.

“Celestia help me.” I whispered, my own breath hot against my neck as my head bowed in surrender.

A distinctive chill had risen in the air, like the bony fingers of death caressing me.

I could hear the leaves rustle. The sounds of voices droning, of winds sweeping across neighbouring towns and tearing the innocents within limb from limb, and the clamor of doors and windows swinging shut filled my ears. These were the instruments of calamity. These were the ballads of the eternal violin, joining the rest in a sweet and final concerto.

Beautiful in their simplicity. So much so that they brought a sorrow far beyond what I had ever experienced to my heart.

I had known, as well. I had known for a month that the end was nigh. You can imagine the befuddlement of the Ponyville locals when I began closing the library most days.Spike would always question me, but I would simply bite my lip and with a shake of my head, a state of unquestioned silence would be therefore upheld in the library.

Such is the understanding I have with my assistant.

I hate that word now, though. It was cute while it lasted, but I hate it now for Spike may have been misled. I only hope that he knew that he was like a brother to me, or even a son.

Forgive me, Spike.

I fought back tears as I galloped down the winding alleys, passing ponies just closing shop, or carting their wares back to their home. I halted dead in my tracks, skidding across a patch of gravel. My ears flattened to muffle the echoes of thunder rolling off the tongue of the clouds. My violet eyes widened to the size of saucers. My shock had distracted me from withholding my tears, so I had to blink rapidly to clear the salted liquid from my eyes. Ponies all around me had paused as well to gape at the sight, their mouths ajar as we watched in a trance of weakness.

Cloudsdale was falling.

A thunderous crash peeled through the air as a bolt of lightning was painted momentarily against the shadowed horizon. Though the city of rainbows and the prideful Pegasi tribe was nothing but a mere silhouette from the vantage of Ponyville, the bloodcurdling screams of horror and agony still reached my folded ears.

Stallion, mare and foal alike had begun a panic in the streets. Many broke into a sprint, flooding into their homes, or the homes of others graciously opened to them, while some simply stood in awe as Cloudsdale crumbled away.

I gritted my teeth, my hoof pawing hungrily at the ground. Why should I interfere? All mortal ponies would perish today, as the prophecy foretold. Despite the futility of the situation, my heart ached to provide them comfort. Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo were up there, alongside pegasus friends I had known for so many years.

My wings, freshly granted to me, stretched from the confinements of their folded positions. A brief sensation of familiar euphoria brought a smile to my face. It was a reminder, no, a fragment, of the simple life I had left behind not long ago. A life where i would wake each morning with a contented smile, smack my lips and stretched as I just had. And Spike would be waiting at the bottom of the stairs or drooling in his bed beside me.

“Give me strength.” I breathed.

My wings beat against the stale air, filled with the stench of decay as it was swept in with the winds. I could hear several ponies gasp as my wings tilted, steadying me on my path to Cloudsdale.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy?” a stallion screamed, desperately clinging to his hat as the winds began to howl and moan. My hair blew into a state of chaos, but I paid it no heed. My eyes stinging from the cold air, I whipped my head around briefly.

“Probably.”

Clenching my eyes shut to evade the strong gusts, I beat my wings harder, pumping all my strength into it. I was pleased to find I was gaining speed, and soon I was soaring on my way to the cloud. With every mile I traveled, I could see Cloudsdale clearer. I could hear the cries of agony as they rang into the empty air.

Figures of winged ponies absconded their broken home all around me, and many, in their panic, nearly collided with me as I passed. A mare with hair that resembled a windswept flame flew past me with such speed and agility that I knew at once that the blurr passing me was Spitfire.

The pegasus, clad in a torn Wonderbolts costume turned her head, cocking it and frowning.

“Princess Twilight? What are you-” the mare began, but stumbled back on her words as she gave a quick glance to the shattered kingdom of Cloudsdale. Instead, she gave a nod of her head in what I could only place as a symbol of respect.

I turned to the city, now reduced to debris. Rubble lay in heaps upon the cloud. Pegasi everywhere scrambled across the scattered wood and stone. Pillars lay cracked and reduced to chunks. I landed upon the rubble, galloping along, my hooves drumming against the rugged terrain in unison to my wing beats.

“Rainbow Dash?” I bellowed, my horn alight with a purple hue as I lifted the occasional boulder. “Scootaloo?” Tears had reached my eyes once more, and I did nothing to hold them back.

It seemed as though the minutes that ticked by as I continued my search had grown into hours as the fragmented remains of the airborne utopia grew silent. Screams of pain transformed into gurgles as the blood rose in the throats of the newly dead, pouring freely from their wounds and mouths.

I averted my eyes as a pony I could only know as Derpy Hooves reached out to me. Her grey coat was ruffled, and dust clung to the clotted blood. Some of the crimson dribbled from her open mouth as she babbled for help. Her wall-eyed stare returned my gaze with a heartbreaking sadness.

“My filly… Dinky…” she sobbed, stroking the mane of a little unicorn filly that lay dead beside her.

“Is in a better place, Derpy.” I said with a sad nod. I winced as derpy shrieked in pain. She was bleeding out, but not quickly enough. She was suffering before me.

Do something!

My horn went aglow, as did a nearby shard of glass. I took a brief moment to examine it, as it was stained a beautiful sky blue.

“Derpy, please forgive me.” I sighed, holding the glass to her throat. The mare struggled in her tomb of rocks, but her body soon went limp in resignation. With a swift motion, the mare, once with such an innocent smiling face, fell to the ground.

Gently, I skidded down the slope of debris until I was beside Dinky, the daughter that had died not long ago. Nudging her corpse gently, I pushed the filly with a smile perpetually fixed upon her lips was in the forelegs of her mother. And there she would remain for eternity.

With a sad smile, I bowed my head.

“Rainbow Dash? Scootaloo?” I cried once more, hoping that either had staggered into earshot since my last attempt. My ears perked as I heard a faint yell of reply. It wasn’t far, but was weak.

“Scootaloo?” I gasped. My hooves combed the surface of the rubble, disheveling chunks of broken buildings and statues. I heard another muffled shout just beneath me. Her hooves acted as trowels, shoveling and scooping away rock and wood until a clearing had opened. She squinted, lowering her face to the gap in the debris.

“H-hello?” a voice whimpered. My nose scrunched up as a cloud of dust was kicked into my face, causing my eyes to tear in defense against the invading particles. I smiled as the first living pony I’d seen since I had stepped hoof on cloudsdale emerged from beneath a plank of wood.

“Scootaloo!” I cried, rushing to her aid. “Can you get out?” The orange filly shook her head vigorously, causing her messy mane of hot pink to sway. There were tears fresh in her eyes, and though she didn’t seem to have any open wounds, it was evident she was in immense pain. Her eyes jerked to the left in unison with a gesture of her head.

“My wing is stuck under a rock or something.” she sniffled, a mandarin-hued foreleg raising to wipe her muzzle. She was a mess, but alive was the best anypony could manage right now.

For a moment, I turned my head as though Ponyville would be there. I couldn’t help but wonder if the storm had hit them yet. I recited the prophecy in my mind, recounting each of the seven stages in my mind. I closed my eyes momentarily, allowing my brain some shelter from the surrounding world in hopes it would remember.

The city of clouds shall falter,

One month ago, I had been called on official royal business to the palace in Canterlot. Upon my arrival, I was whisked away into a private room. In one month, Equestria will die at the hooves of plague, vermin and fire. These had been Lunas exact words as she had paced across the ornate tiles, shined by servants to the point that I could see my reflection clear as day in the light of the floor.

One month? But...no! How do you know it is true? How can we trust this pony?

Starswirl the Bearded was no fool, Twilight Sparkle. It shall come.

And if it does?

… then, Twilight, we shall wait.

“Twilight? Are you… okay?” I had been so immersed in my meditation that I had completely forgotten about my company. I looked at her in a passing expression of shock before I nodded with slight hesitance and my horn went aglow.

The gap in the debris where Scootaloo was waiting was far too small for a mare my size to climb through, and the darkness in the hole was like a brick wall.

“What is pinning your wing down? Can you tell?”

Scootaloo’s face scrunched up in concentration, her tongue lolling out comically as a hoof reached back to feel the object.

“Some sort of pillar thing, maybe?” she said with uncertainty. I nodded, visualizing a chunk of a traditional column crushing the filly’s wing. It was a difficult practice, but with enough determination it was possible for a unicorn to levitate an object beyond her field of vision.

“Is it working?” I grunted as purple sparks erupted from my horn, I could feel an unseen weight resisting against my magic, a good sign that I was lifting something. Scootaloo nodded with a slight wince of pain as the pillar was lifted from her wing. I smiled, letting the pillar plunge to the cloud ground just beside Scootaloo. I wiped my brow, moist and hot.

Panting, I lent my hoof to the pegasus, helping her out of the tomb of clutter. There were several cuts and minor scrapes snaking up her legs, but she skipped along by my side nonetheless, her good wing fluttering in her ecstasy.

“Thanks for saving me!” she chimed as I trotted sadly down the streets of Cloudsdale, destroyed in the wake of the storm. I opened my mouth to reply, but it soon clamped shut as an ear-splitting rumble reverberated around me. Scootaloo yelped, her ears flattening as she buried her muzzle beneath my wings. Mere moments later, a tremor surged through the cloud. I fell to the ground, my legs scraping against a shard of glass that had stuck out from the heaps of destroyed city.

I yelped, but the pain seemed to soften almost instantly. I stared down in confusion as the flesh that had been opened by the shard began to regenerate before my eyes, seconds passing before it had sealed itself completely, leaving nothing but a memory of a gash that had once been. I glanced down to Scootaloo, whom had been watching in horror and disgusted fascination from the ground. I gulped, my throat suddenly running dry.

Eternal life. Eternal healing. Nary an ailment or illness shall trouble your soul. A curse or a blessing? Your choice.

The sing-song chant Discord had once spoken to me the day after my coronation.

I shook my head, jarring any thought that had drifted from the past from my head. Scootaloo and I both stumbled to our hooves with a sigh. The tremor had been shocking but short-lived, and no visible signs of aftermath had been afflicted.

I moaned quietly, holding a leg to my stomach as an overwhelming sense of discomfort seeped through my body. It felt as though a cloud of butterflies had stirred in my gut, and now fluttered about in every which direction. A sense of intense nausea flitted into my stomach.

I stared down in abhorrence as the cloud beneath me began to fall away, leaving stranded for a brief moment before gravity took its toll. With a simultaneous shriek, Scootaloo and I began to fall hoof-first. We were plummeting from the sky, inches away from the city reduced to rubble and the plunging cloud.

It took a moment for my brain to process the fact I had wings, and soon after kicked in. The wings spread out, beating furiously to counter the momentum. A scream turned my attention back to the orange filly, rapidly falling further and further away from me. With a sigh and a sharp intake of breath, I dove after her, my wings folded around me as though I were a Wonderbolt performing some incredible act.

As my muzzle neared, I bit down, latching onto Scootaloo’s tail. She screamed in pain, but seemed relieved to no longer be descending to her imminent death. I tossed her onto my back. I felt her forelegs hug my neck tightly, her grip still not strong enough to choke me.

The two of us declined from the realm of clouds, instead choosing to pursue the larger one. I could hear Scootaloo whimper as what remained of Cloudsdale neared the ground.

“Do something!” she cried.

“There’s nothing I can do!” I insisted, my eyes lingering on the utopia as it collided with the earth, the sheer force of impact driving dirt and debris into the air. A cloud of dust loomed over the metropolis.

“Rainbow Dash is in there!” she sobbed, hugging my neck ever tighter.

“Everypony there is dead!” I shouted, choking on my words as I realised with a sinking feeling: I was speaking to a ten-year-old.

There was a pregnant silence between us as I continued to drift to the ground, my wings extending and folding like a mechanical rhythm.

“Dinky Hooves?” I heard Scootaloo breath, “The little filly in my class?”

I hesitated, feeling tears beginning to form in my throat. “Yes.”

“And her mum?”

“Her too.”

“... oh.” Scootaloo sighed. I felt a drip of liquid against the nape of my neck as the filly buried her face in my mane, squeezing me tight as though I were a teddy bear. “Is... is it just Cloudsdale?”

“I’m afraid not.” I exhaled as my hooves reached the ground. The grass all around me was dead. A faded brownish yellow tinge that spanned for miles in every direction. Scootaloo gingerly stepped down, eyeing the dead grass as though it were the carpet during a game of ‘the floor is lava’.

We both broke into a gallop, though I often had to slow my increasing pace so as to allow the filly to catch up. By the time we had reached the limits of Ponyville, we were both panting and keeling over to catch our breath. I could feel the winds of the storm brush against my back, drifting through my coat and tousling my mane almost playfully as it neared.

It had travelled slowly, but I could hear the peels of thunder growing louder as the storm drew near. The streets were now empty and abandoned, as the remainder of the ponies had long since escaped into their cellars and homes to wait out the storm.

Truly, without the common and comforting familiarity of a bustling bazaar or the smiling faces of my friends beaming at me from window sills, the town was already dead. Scootaloo was shivering visibly, and I could hear her teeth chatter as a cold wind whistled through my legs. I extended my wing, wrapping her close as we strolled through the desolate alleys.

My eyes closed in a solemn remembrance as the following verse of the prophecy came to mind.

and vermin shall run through the streets, the plague carried in their blood.

As though some invisible being had read my mind, I heard a shrill scream from several avenues down. I turned, my fears confirmed as I saw it.

Before me was a regular empty street; paths of cobblestone snaked through Ponyville with vibrantly-painted buildings on either side, be it stores or houses with their characteristic roofs fashioned out of tightly-bundled hay. The curbs ran the border of the streets, connecting to the sidewalk where an occasional sign was placed or a lamppost stood frigidly in the cool air.

One miniscule thing was out of place: rats. The beasts were crawling out of the gutters, damp with sewage and carrying the scent of decay and other unpleasantness with them. At first, it was one or two scampering across the streets, pausing only to scratch behind their filthy ears before continuing along. Soon, they were flooding out of every nook and crevice, even the most unimaginable places.

The street before was cloaked by the swarm of vermin, roaming around, scampering until the cracks of doors and through the occasional open window. I followed a trail of rats into a particular home. I watched in horror as the creatures clawed their ways up the bed posts and into the sheets of the bed. They were crawling over the ponies’ body as though he wasn’t there. His brown eyes flung open as one attempted to crawl into his mouth, his arms flailing about to scare the rats. This only seemed to make the things angry, as they began to swarm, crawling on his face, biting him repeatedly.

I flung a hoof over Scootaloo’s prying eyes as the rats cleared, revealing a partially devoured face. Remnants of his face clung to the exposed bone loosely. Fighting the urge to vomit, I escaped the house, dragging Scootaloo out with me. She kept trying to glance back, but I urged her to avert her eyes from the dead pony.

As we emerged from the house, my jaw fell open as I surveyed the streets. The paths were new completely blanketed by a sea of pests. Scootaloo squealed, her hooves tiptoeing in place in some odd dance, a failed attempt to evade the rats. This only intrigued the creatures, and they began scuttling towards us. Scootaloo was enveloped in a lavender glow as I levitated the filly onto my back, where she would be safe.

I dashed into the midst of the swarm, raising my hooves high and shaking them as the vermin attempted to claw their way up to Scootaloo. Though they gnawed tirelessly at my legs, I felt nothing but the occasional pinch as my body regenerated almost instantaneously.

Scootaloo continued to wail as I trudged through the knee-deep mountain of creatures. My wings flared and I took to the air, instead choosing to survey Ponyville from above. To my horror, rats had taken to the roofs. They scampered along the shingles and hay, worming their way through every crack or gap they could find. They shuffled through the troughs and dropped into every chimney available. All around us, ponies were screaming. Some had even fled their homes in hopes of escaping the rats, only to be swallowed by the masses lying in wait just outside. Scootaloo had clenched her eyes shut, and I could occasionally hear her murmur ‘it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay’ to herself as though if she did so enough times, she would awaken from the cruel nightmare that had gripped her.

I could only assume my friends had fallen victim to the attacks. Perhaps, Spike…

Spike!

I had to find him. The library was on the dead opposite side of the town, perhaps the plague had not reached it yet. Inhaling deeply, I dove down, skimming rather close to the growing pile of rats, before picking up again. This time I soared high. Up, up until I could seen the entirety of Ponyville beneath me like an overhead map.

The large tree that housed the Golden Oaks library stood out like a ladybug in a hive of hornets.

“Hold on.” I commanded, and Scootaloo obeyed, my neck once again wrapped in her grip. I plunged down, my purple and pink tail splayed out behind me like a streamline. I stretched my wings just as I came close to the ground, bringing my rapid descent to an abrupt stop. My hooves landing gracefully on the cobblestone, I galloped into the library, bursting in. It was generally untouched, save for a few books on a coffee table near the door.

“Spike?” I called, my voice echoing through the hollow oak. A small dragon poked his head out of the kitchen, his emerald eyes fixing me with intent.

“Twilight?” he gasped, smiling in what appeared to be relief. “What’s happening out there? Is Cloudsdale okay?”

I gave him a strong hug, sweeping him off the floor entirely.

“It hit the ground a while ago.” I said with a saddened frown, letting Scootaloo step down from her perch of my back. The dragon’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. “Spike,” I persisted. “We have to get out of here. We have to get to higher ground.”

The dragon spun around. “Why? What’s going on?”

“Rats.” I deadpanned. “Thousands of them are filling the streets, biting everypony they see. It’s…” I paused briefly to glimpse at Scootaloo’s increasingly shocked expressions, “not pretty.” If Spike had been holding something, I rest assured he would have let it clattered to the floor.

Not because of what I had just said, I would later realise, but because of what he say emerging from the opened door. He pointed a clawed finger past me, and my head jerked around to see a dozen rats scramble in.

Scootaloo screamed as they began to climb up her leg, burrowing their sharp little claws into her legs. She flailed about, tearing rats of her skin as they began to bite her, several of the gashes drawing sizeable amounts of blood.

I wasted no time in letting my magic lift her, and I quickly removed every rat from her, throwing them out the door. She sobbed as I cradled her briefly before resting her on my back gently. Spike clambered on as well, and my knees wobbled slightly beneath the additional weight.

Grunting, I galloped out the door, glancing behind me as the vermin flooded in around my ankles, shredding every book they came across. I swallowed my fury and continued on, leaving the tree behind quickly as I could.

I galloped. I galloped through the streets of Ponyville, rats trailing behind me every step of the way. Ponies lay dead in the streets, each corpse becoming a feast for another cluster of the beasts. I could see ponies stumbling out of their homes, crying for help. Crying for a doctor. I could see them swelling, their wounds bleeding. They were sick, but I could do nothing.

I continued to run. I ignored their pleas for help, I averted my eyes every time I passed a pony slowly suffering in the streets.

I galloped until I was short of breath, until my lungs burned and ached and my heart drummed against my ribcage, and even then I continued. I reached the Everfree Forest, plunging headlong without hesitation into the realm of shadows and unearthly beasts. The rats hadn’t dared to follow us here, instead turning back to pick every bone of every pony I’ve ever loved clean.

I collapsed, ready to sleep a thousand years, or so it seemed. Spike hopped off and gently lowered the orange filly to the ground, resting her in the crook between to overgrown roots. My breath was shaky and laboured, but my pain paled in comparison to Scootaloo’s.

She lay before me, her eyes half-closed as she glanced warily around. Her mouth hung open and her tongue hung out loosely. Her mane was rugged and bits of dust, dirt and blood clung to it. Her chest heaved and collapsed as she struggled to breath. Several nasty wounds ran up her legs where she had been bitten, and the areas surrounding had begun to swell tremendously. Her forehead was hot and beads of sweat dripped down her face.

“T-T-Twilight?” she breathed hoarsely.

“Yes?”

“Am I going to die?”

Spike glanced up to me, his lip trembling as though he were about to cry. I hugged him close, scooping up Scootaloo with my free foreleg.

“Of course not. All you need to do is stay here and rest, and soon, very soon -” my words faltered, disappearing into the ghost of a whisper as the filly drew a long, pained breath. Her eyes began to water as they widened, fixing me with a glassy stare. I smiled weakly, and she returned it as best as she could.

As she exhaled, it was though her very soul had been contained in that breath, and it leaked out of her. Her body went limp in my arms.

Tears fresh in my eyes and a lump I just couldn’t seem to swallow forming in my throat, I lowered her body to the ground. she stared up at me, her violet eyes lifeless. Spike reached down, his hands gently closing her eyelids.

“And soon, very soon, you’ll be with Rainbow Dash, and your parents. And Sweetie Belle and Applebloom. And Dinky too.”

Very soon.

Author's Note:

Emortuus means dead in Latin.

Comments

[Florida]

Says 4555 words for chapter 1
Says 0 words total

Wat

[Eventide Indigo]

3221496 Guess it takes a while for it to cache the total word count.

[TalltalePony]

That's... extremely depressing. You've got me interested; keep it up.

[Eventide Indigo]

3221590 Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[Drynwhyl]

Oh my goodness this sounds interesting.

[Eventide Indigo]

3222261 Yay!

[Tjprower]

DAMN.
What a hook. And yet, so horribly depressing.
Definitely a like and fav.

[Eventide Indigo]

3223718 Thank you! And sorry for the depressing...ness?

[Moonshine The Brony]

Wow. Tears at chapter 1. Impressive. Keep up the good work!

[Eventide Indigo]

3231792 Thanks!

[randome284]

Wh-when I just r-read the description I cried horribly. I cry so much during some fics but this one made me cry the most. I was wailing and sobbing all over the place - heck, I still am That's it, I'm never reading anything with the 'tragedy' tag ever again. No, that wasn't a Pinkie Promise... I'll be crying for like half an hour after this thanks to you. So horribly depressing!