Crystal heart

by A pensive Squirrel

Hangups

Hours passed and Salem was pacing across the royal croquet lawns. He used to enjoy the subtle pleasure of the sport. He now just glared at the playthings and toys, laughing every now and then, and constantly checking behind him. His encounter with that nightmare had left him on edge.

He told himself to stay strong for the people, ones that looked to him to find the same strength. Still her wicked cackled pounded his mind. He whimpered while alone for a moment before replacing his stony expression.

He heard a throat clear behind him and nearly shrieked in terror. He turned to face the rude interruption to his innermost sorrow. He hoped it would be his queen. He feared that it would be the phantom Luna. He did not want another citizen’s complaint, he couldn’t handle another one.

He found his youngest daughter, Sierra. She was more like her mother, her fur partially glittering with fibres of silver. She placed her small hoof on his shoulder and draped the cape over him to shelter him from the cold winds. He hadn’t noticed. The kingdoms and Empyrean’s Empire all existed in vast tundra. Powerful magic kept the weather fair. The spell had abandoned Salem’s res publica.

He had felt the cold from the moment Luna trespassed. He was used to it. Being a descendent of the first unicorns, he was bred for winter’s bitter temper. His coat was thick, his mane long and layered.

He shrugged the weary looking cloak from his shoulders and invited his daughter closer. She curtsied and joined him. The gardens of the Kingdom were a place a reflection, not only because of the quartz shards that permeated the ground, but also because they were peaceful. Time was given to step back and absorb the heretical nature of now, a place of misery and shame.

Sierra rapped her hoof on her father’s cheek as he stared blankly into the grass.

“It was a good speech, dad. Do you know what we’re gonna do? Don’t repeat your performance from earlier. Don’t doll it up for me.”

Salem focused back on the radiant mare at his side. He tucked his back legs behind him and snuggled closer to her. He retrieved the cape and enwrapped them both inside its blessed warmth.

“I don’t know. I should have caved. I should’ve let the execs get their way. It’s no use now. The deepest and most private thoughts of our kingdom will be seen tonight. Luna will know if there is any doubt in my vigour, and she will use it against me. The mind is a powerful thing.”

“We have crofters to grow, the tailor and the Frobisher will mend, and we have the alliance with dragons. We can use the very thing they fear to fight them. And we will hear of all the news in the outer Kingdoms and the heartlands through the mages…”

Sierra stopped speaking as a wiry stallion cantered into sight. He had red on his snout and tears in his eyes. He bowed again and again to the king, begging for pardon, until he fell on his face and panted.

“Excuse my barging in sire. I have grave news.”

Salem perked up and climbed to his feet. He nodded to Sierra and with a pale velvet flash of her horn she returned to her sister’s care. Salem gestured to the jousting field and the two of them made haste to the stands.

“What news do the mages bring?”

Salem demanded authoritatively. He sternly scolded the messenger with his eyes as if vexed by the impromptu diversion.

“The mages, Quicksilver, have they received word from the other unicorn guilds?”

“They say nothing.”

“How do you mean?”

“Tongues were lopped at the base, and their horns had been removed with some force. I thought we were separated, my liege, what will we tell the people? They were counting on this means of communication.”

Salem rubbed his forelock and frowned towards the council building.

“Scour the schools for unicorns, scour the streets. They will learn the spells required so that we may speak to our comrades, though they grow fewer and fewer by the day.”

“All scripture was burnt, my liege. The only texts remaining are in the locked vault beneath the library. But they are of no use. No one can read its words.

“Cease! Excuses are wasteful, harmful for my kingdom. There must be older unicorns, pros that have mastered and memorised the tomes of Starswirl. Gather the unicorn citizens immediately, and find me once you have.”

Quicksilver eagerly nodded and went to his task without a fuss. The Pegasus seemed to relish the mission, as if it were a treat. He kept himself occupied.

Salem turned and nearly shrieked as a mare as his daughter appeared from thin air.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing is wrong, my dear. Fetch your sister and mother and tell them to mingle with the common folk. Help in any way you can, as many as you can. We all have a part to play.”

“Where are you bound?”

“Don’t worry. It’s purely bureaucratic.”

Salem waved as she once more dissolved into the bleachers. The council building was a remarkably antiquated place. Compared to the silver furnished, crystal rendered towers and obelisks; the little brick roundhouse was like a wart.

It was past the Celestial church where Helios Worship took place and it was dwarfed by a twisted and knurled oak tree. Salem scampered up the steps to the establishment and already the smell of death was rife. There was a grieving stallion on the stairs as well. He was inconsolable. He might have needed a caring ear but Salem was not that organ. He left the earth pony to his lament and pushed open the doors already ajar.

Inside, the Princely portraits were ruined by the slaughtered guts of the mages. Their brewing tables and dwellings were coated in blood. In the main conference there lay the disfigured victims, torn asunder, and cold. To the touch, they were lukewarm, as if they had died only recently. How could this have happened?

Salem’s most pensive thought would have to wait. One of the mages was not dead, but she wasn’t far departed from it. Spread across the tables was the pale white mare made scarlet with blood. She had no tongue to speak with and her horn had been plunged through her thigh. The brutality was overwhelming. Salem remained.

She tried to speak but the incomprehensible gargling and barks could only convey the violence she had witnessed and undergone. She reached out with her unsteady hoof and she looked up to the king with hopeful eyes. He checked the doorway to see if he had company. He was alone. No other should have to see his action, though he did it for mercy’s sake.

He struck a flame with his horn and his eyes turned green. Purple smoke leaked from those very eyes as he gazed into the dead eyes of the survivor. Her pain was too great. She could not pass on her wisdom. It was the kind thing to do. But was it the right thing to do? Kind was good enough for the torn King. He closed the eyes of the butchered mare as his spell put her to sleep forever. The spells of life and age were solely reserved for the alicorns of the land. To harness it, Salem resorted to using dark magic, something unicorns could rarely do.

He heard the sound of stomping hooves outside. Past the door, undertakers dressed respectfully in suits climbed the stairs. There was a carriage waiting in the forecourt. A silver-haired stallion walked past the innocuous king and signed a cross on his chest. He whispered Latin prayers and levitated the newly silenced onto his back. He was on his way out but Sombra obstructed him.

“This, this is a crime. We need to find out who did this. The bodies will be left where they fell and an investigation will be carried out. The families will be sore for it, I understand, but who’s to say that the pony that did this won’t do the same if not caught?”

The smartly dressed stallion lowered the mare back to the table and tipped his hat as he backed towards the door.

“Who’s to say it was a pony? This manner of vicious and frenzied attack could only be the work of one of those filthy fire breathers.”

Salem grabbed the stallion and brought him back to the table, horn glowing and his eyes starting to change.

“They are our allies, sir. The war is not in here, it’s out there.”

“Save your pretty speeches for the other idiots. Those monsters will kill us.”

Salem allowed the undertaker to go and stared back in frozen solitude, fasting through the day, just watching as the carcasses decayed.