Embers and Emeralds
Chapter 4
Embers and Emeralds
“Memorial Garden?” said Dinky Hooves, reading the letters in the cast iron arch over the gateway through which she and her mother passed. “Why would they call it that?”
“I guess it's because you're supposed to come here to remember,” said her mother, thinking of how much she, herself, did not want to remember. “You know,” she said, “to remember ponies that have... passed away.”
It was Hearth's Warming Eve, and they were walking along a cobblestone path between the many gravestones of the Memorial Garden, Headed towards a place Derpy had never before taken her daughter. The sun was sinking low on the western horizon.
“Well,why are we here?” asked Dinky.
“Because,” Derpy began, and she was tempted to say that there was no reason, and to just walk her daughter home. But she did not.
“Because this is where your daddy is buried, Dinky,” she said.
“Oh,” said Dinky, slightly confused.
“I should have brought you here a long time ago,” said Derpy.
“What for?” asked Dinky Hooves.
“Because you deserve to know,” said Derpy. “You should know where he is and who he was.”
Mercifully, Dinky did not respond, and the snow continued to fall gently around mother and daughter as they moved along the path towards a particular corner of the graveyard – one that was not well-lit nor especially high on the hillside.
By and by, they reached it, and Derpy was pleased to see that the groundskeeper had bothered to keep the tombstone and grave site clean since her last visit.
When was that?
The question bit at her heart more deeply than the cold at her muzzle and wingtips – it must have been five years, at least.
“There he is,” said Derpy, pointing a hoof at a headstone. “That's where your daddy is buried.”
Dinky waddled up to the gravestone, and sat down, right on top of where her father lay beneath her. Derpy did not scold her, or tell her to move. It was the closest he would ever come to holding his daughter, after all.
“Emberwisp?” asked Dinky, looking at the tombstone curiously.
“That was his name,” said Derpy, choking up a bit to hear her daughter say the word. “He was a unicorn, like you. He's why you're a unicorn – why you are what you are.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, and in the cold, it hurt. “He was better at fire magic than anypony, or that's what everypony used to say, anyway.”
“What happened to him?” asked Dinky.
“He had an accident,” said Derpy, flatly. “Turns out even the best can make a mistake. Sometimes, the world just doesn't care who everypony says you are, I guess – or who you think you are.”
“Is he why I'm good at fire magic?” asked Dinky.
“I'm sure he is,” said Derpy, proudly.
“Then I'm glad he was my daddy,” said Dinky, “because if he wasn't, I wouldn't be good at anything.”
Derpy felt her heart seize up, like the cold itself had seeped into her to take hold of it. She wanted to bawl like a baby at her daughter's words, but she absolutely would not allow it. She held fast, imagining herself to be made of iron – cold, blackened iron that was rusty, jagged, and pitted with age – and utterly still.
She did not cry.
“I'm glad,” said Derpy, grinding her teeth, momentarily. “I'm glad, too,” she said, and she gasped in several breaths of cold, cold air, using them to keep herself stolid and stone-faced.
“Emberwisp Hooves,” said Dinky. “That's a good name.”
“Absolutely,” said Derpy, still taking deep breaths of the frigid air as quietly as she could manage.
“Do you think he'd be proud of me?” asked Dinky Hooves.
“Dinky,” said her mother, “he'd be so proud of you that he wouldn't know what to do.”
Dinky stared at the tombstone for a few seconds longer, and then spoke.
“Why'd you fall in love with him, Mommy?”
Derpy Hooves racked her brain, and then laughed quietly, realizing that she had no answer. She smiled down at the little unicorn who faced her father's tombstone, and having been asked a question, she answered truthfully.
“I have no idea,” she said. “I don't understand why I felt what I felt.” She sighed. “Maybe that's why I was able to feel it, at all.”
“Huh?” Dinky grunted.
“Don't worry,” said Derpy. “I think you'll understand, one day.”
The snow began to pick up, now, and the wind whistled loudly. The weather patrol had gone out of their way to get the clouds started on a thick blanket of snow for the next day's many celebrations.
“Come on, Dinky,” said the pegasus, “It's really cold. I'll bring you back here another day, if you'd like to visit again.”
“Okay,” said Dinky, and she stood up from where she had sat upon her father's grave.
They moved back through the graveyard, Dinky walking close beside her mother, who kept her tucked under a wing to keep the little unicorn warm.
As they crested the hill, they were surprised to see, of all things on a day so cold and snowy, another pony. It was a pegasus stallion, and as they drew closer, Derpy recognized him as the same stallion she had met in Sugar Cube Corner on the morning she had left to deliver Queen Chrysalis her package. He was sitting on his haunches, looking down at a pair of gravestones, one much smaller than the other, situated beneath an old oak tree. He looked up, and recognition shot briefly through his expression, followed by embarrassment. He quickly diverted his eyes, turning them back to the two gravestones which had earlier occupied his attention.
She almost passed in complete silence. She almost said nothing, and that would have been so easy. Yet Derpy Hooves spoke to the near-total stranger.
“You don't have to be ashamed, you know,” she said.
He lifted his head, looking totally perplexed.
“It's good of you to come here, especially on such a cold day.”
He gave a dismissive wave.
“I'm fine,” he said, raising his voice barely enough to be heard above the wind. “Cold is what I do, remember? What I am.”
“I remember,” said Derpy, “but you said you didn't like it.”
“I did, didn't I?" he sighed.
Derpy stood there for a moment, uncertain of what to say or do.
“Is that your daughter?” asked the stallion, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Derpy said, rubbing at Dinky's side with her wing in an effort to warm her a little. “I wanted her to see her daddy's grave. She'd never seen it before.”
“Good of you to bother on a day like this,” said the stallion.
“Well, he died around this time of year,” said Derpy. “We had just found out I was pregnant, so he never got to...” she said, her words trailing off. “It just seemed right.”
The stallion nodded. He gestured just once at the tombstones, and his hoof fell limply back down.
“Six years ago this same day,” said the stallion, clearing his throat to maintain his composure. “She was always sickly,” he said. “She got pneumonia. Can't help seeing it as my own doing in a way, but everypony always has to have a white Hearth's Warming, you know?”
“Cold is what you do,” Said Derpy, flatly. “It's just what you are. No need to regret it... to change it.”
He gave a quiet, raspy. “Hmm,” and that was it.
“What about the little one?” asked Derpy, nodding at the tiny headstone.
“Nopony buried there,” said the Stallion, gesturing at the smaller headstone, “She was pregnant. It's just for show; not even a name on it.”
He reached out, and brushed the snow away from the face of the little headstone, which was indeed blank, but for a simple, florentine carving.
“Emerald Flicker,” said Derpy, turning her eyes towards the name on the larger monument. “That's a pretty name.”
“I just called her Emmy,” whispered the stallion, but Derpy's ears caught it.
“What's your name,” said Derpy. “I never asked.”
“Chill Breeze,” he said.
Dinky nudged at her mother.
“Mommy, I'm cold,” she said.
Chill Breeze smiled down at the little unicorn,
“Take her home,” he said, looking back at Derpy. “She'll catch her dea...” He stopped himself, and cleared his throat.
“It's cold,” he said. “Too cold for little fillies.”
Derpy laughed a little to herself.
“Oh, she's got more fire in her than you'd think,” she said. “But we better get going anyway.”
She squeezed the little filly tight against her side, and was about to take a step when a thought crossed her mind.
“What are you doing for Hearth's Warming?” she asked the stallion.
“Me?” he said. “I usually just sit at home and watch the snow. She, eh... She loved the snow.”
"That's terrible," said Derpy. "That you just sit at home, I mean. You should come and have dinner with us. I haven't done much for Hearth's Warming in awhile, but I could give it a try, for once."
“Really?” He smiled, and it matched the sorrow that Derpy had seen in Queen Chrysalis' eyes for its subtlety. “I might just do that,” he said.
“Tack street,” said Derpy. “The plate on the door says 'D.D.H.'”
“And what's that stand for?” he asked.
“Ditzy Doo,” she said. “Ditzy Doo Hooves.”
“Ditzy Doo,” he said, and he laughed a little. “That's cute.”
“Well, everypony calls me...” she began, but she stopped herself.
“Hmm?” he grunted, raising an eyebrow.
“Ditzy,” she said. “Just call me Ditzy Doo.”
finem
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this story is lovely, but terrible because it makes me think of someone I lost years ago.
Thank you.
3626254
Well, thanks for reading it, at least. I didn't really mean for it to turn out this way. I wanted to write a comedy, and Chrysalis is my favorite villain. I figured it would be funny to have Derpy meet her.
I was wrong.
I do think the story has its redeeming qualities, though the first story in this series is still my favorite.
Once again, thanks for reading.
Well I think you did an admirable job writing Chrysalis. Seriously, it genuinely quite touching. Still, I don't think the opportunities for comedy are dead just because of some serious and sad traits. Given the job you've done with her I would love to see you write more of Chrysalis being my favourite villain.
As for the rest of the story? Equally as good and an effort much appreciated. Very bitter sweet.
Well, the thing about comedy is that there has to be an element of the tragic in it somewhere.
3630678
That's one of the reasons that this isn't my favorite in this series. It relies very heavily on subtext, and it's not a straightforward, A to B to C type of plot. It feels a little out of place alongside the other "Misadventures of Derpy Hooves." Most of the time, my stories -- Derpy fics, or otherwise -- have some sort of objective for the protagonist; some set of circumstances under which he or she will "win or lose," so to speak. I go into how the events of a story affect a character's feelings a good bit, but while that may be important, it's not usually the biggest thing at stake.
This one is completely about how the characters feel, and why they feel that way. That goes just as much for Chrysalis as it does for Derpy. That sort of requires the use of a lot of subtext and vagary, or it becomes a dry, boring "So and so felt this," sort of narrative.
Like I said in the author's note on the final chapter, it tries to do way more than it probably should have in so few words, but oh well. It's done, now.
Sometimes stories just write themselves, taking on a life of their own and going in directions that the author never anticipated. For what it's worth, I thought this was great.
3641398
Well, thank you very much. Glad you liked it, and since I saw where you faved it in my Meta Feed, thanks for that, too.
Aw...
Also, typo in chapter 2: "rolls" should have been "roles".
3645910
Fixed the typo. I'll have to blame that one on the whiskey. I actually have a theatre degree, so it irks me to know I used the wrong spelling of "role."
That said, thanks for the kind words. As for Boxxy Brown, unless they've changed it, that's actually the name (as listed on the MLP:FiM Wiki) of Derpy's foreman, the big, brown pegasus with a crate for his cutie mark, seen in "Feeling Pinkie Keen" when Derpy clocks Twilight with a piano. I generally refer back to the Wiki, and pull background ponies from there. In the rare instance where I create a pony on my own, like Chill Breeze, I tend to build them for what the story needs, rather than according to some ideal of mine. I actually don't love the character of Chill Breeze. He feels like a bit of a rehash, but he was mechanically efficient for what I needed to do within the narrative. Hearth's Warming is essentially a modified Christmas with little horses. So, I forgave myself for getting a little cheesy there. Christmas stories have license to be cheesy.
Also, I restrict myself to "Everyone" ratings for these Derpy fics, and it's hard to avoid cheese within the realm of what this fandom thinks of as "Everyone" material. Just look at the show. I'll go a little darker and more serious than some within that rating, but my rule is that if Don Bluth wouldn't do it, I won't, either.
Thanks again for reading!
You let Derpy grow. That may not have been a goal, but I found it a good end.
3901923
Let me begin by saying thanks for reading.
As for Derpy, she's an easy target for character development in some ways. We know very little about her from the show, except that she's a klutz. Beyond that, you can pretty much fill in whatever you want. If Derpy is ever allowed to speak again in the show, I find it doubtful that she will behave anything like this version of her, but it's fun for me to write about her as something more than a generalized goofball.
Now, Chrysalis, on the other hand... She's pretty much my favorite villain from the series. When she was first introduced, the idea of something that replaces someone you love so it can basically feed on your soul struck me as possibly the most sinister form of evil I could imagine. Unlike most cartoon evil, though, this didn't seem to fall apart or become goofy and trite when I scrutinized it more thoroughly. In fact, it just seemed darker and more horrible.
You're talking about a creature that, insofar as she has been presented thus far, has no source of joy except to feed on others. She can desire someone, but never really love them, and she can never really be loved merely for being what she is because that is so utterly unlovely. The only way that she can ever receive the love she craves is to replace whomever was its intended recipient, and even as she consumes it, she is aware all the while that it was never meant for her. Even if someone tried to love Chrysalis, even just out of pity, they would only be destroyed for their effort.
So, fundamentally, in this world based on "the magic of friendship," she is damned to be perfectly alone for her entire life. She can't even have a real friend because friendship is based on love. Worst of all, she is just one of an entire species. There are too many changelings for them to be, for instance, ponies that were mutated by their own selfishness, or some such. They're born into that pitiful existence. Then, they live in it, they suffer in it, and finally, they die in it. That's horrible -- a kind of misery so poignant that it's bizarrely beautiful, if only for the bitterness, the irony, and the perfection of it.
And I can't say why I don't get more views, comments, etc. My guess is that FiMFiction has just become so bloated that the only way you can really get lots of readers is to write clopfics, shipfics, or crossovers with popular universes. Either that, or to have been established since before the site was so flooded with new stories every day.
As it is, the people who find my stuff here find it, and more of them seem to like it than dislike it. So, I must be doing something right.
Thanks again for reading.
4112494
Maybe.
I write this series when I get ideas for it, but I can't always guarantee that will happen right when I want it to or even if it ever will, again. Who knows? I might come up with an idea for another one tomorrow, for all I know.
The thing is that right now I'm pretty busy in my day-to-day. So, I'm not writing much of anything, at the moment.
Awwwwww, what a cute story. (In response to the last authors note.) Don't worry about it this story is more than good, its perfect, I actually almost cried (quiet an impressive feat.). I'm very glad that you wrote this story, I definitely love the concept of Ditzy finding love, and interacting with Chrysalis, so thank you for writing.
~TheEmpressEclipse~
4259594
Well, thanks. I appreciate you taking the time to read it, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
4266288
Your welcome.
~TheEmpressEclipse~
Damn, I read the other misadventures before this one.
This one, it hits pretty hard and it has a more real and sad tone, but at the same time, it has to be one of the best so far.
Thank you for writing it!
4984643 Thanks. This one is still my favorite of the four that currently exist. I'm glad people are still reading it.
"This got really, really messy."
But it worked out fine. Damned good exposition on Chrysalis.
5295083
Hey!
Thanks again for reading. There's one more of these Derpy fics on the way -- two at most. Before then, though, I have to warn you; my next project is a bit of absurd comedy based on a concept that nobody but me may even find funny. It's going to be short, ridiculous, and completely unrelated to anything else I've done. So, if it seems odd compared to everything else I've written, don't panic; it's not a long-term change; just a quick one-shot written for my own amusement.
Thanks for taking the time to read these Derpy fics!
I like it. It's well written. It's almost poetic in it's accuracy. It does well in capturing the knife-in-the-heart pain of loss, but it doesn't get so real that it becomes a reminder of the reader's potential real-life losses, and by extension, become unbearable to read. And of course it has an optimistic ending. Usually that would sicken me in a "people-are-dead-you-can't-just-imply-everything's-going-to-be-fine" way, but like I said, it's not real enough, and the ending was well done.
10/10, in terms of fics that deal with this sort of thing.
She almost passed in complete silence. She almost said nothing. It would have been so easy.
But Derpy Hooves spoke to the near-total stranger.
“You don't have to be embarrassed,” she said.
-At this point I got the idea that it might be Double Diamond, and that his wife and child died in something related to his mark, which is part of why he wasw willing to get rid of it.
“Chill Breeze,” he said.
-...guess not.
6821252 If you mean the point where Chrysalis' head turns a bit too far and such, it's more just to demonstrate that she isn't really an equine; similar in form but fundamentally unnatural. I just really liked the idea of the character, and I wanted to do an alternate take on her that emphasized her more as a character than as a cackling cartoon villain.
I get sick of villains in children's entertainment all being the same arrogant, laughing fool who is always defeated due to overconfidence. I like competent, calm villains who carry themselves with dignity and manifest themselves as real, believable threats -- and who have identifiable, relatable motives. If that makes them seem less "villainous," so much the better. No one needs to believe that their enemies in life will be purely evil. It's much more useful to understand them as fundamentally human with a different viewpoint from oneself. Most often those to whom we find ourselves opposed in life feel they are morally in the right and that they have perfectly adequate reasons for whatever they are doing.
I like blurring the lines of what should be considered "evil." What I was attempting to do was to make the reader question whether something that initially seemed alien and horrible was really a "villain" in the sense we typically like to use the word. Perhaps Chrysalis is less evil and more simply alien; a thing that must be fought because of her very nature, regardless of whether she would have chosen that nature, had she been given the choice, at all.
Thank you for pointing out the typographical error. I fixed it.
And thank you for reading.
7317815 Believe it or not, that statement is true. Voicing your thoughts and thinking out loud are not the same as talking to yourself. It is a technique taught to Spec-Ops (among other types of people who don't do it naturally) as a way for them to keep their sanity under extreme stress or isolation. We, as human beings need to hear a human voice even if it's our own, so, this translates well into the depth of the character.
7481906
I'm glad to see that someone gets it. I lived alone for eight years, and I did a lot of talking to myself to keep myself sane. That was part of where the inspiration for that line came from.