Dire Vale: Say Goodbye

by SymphonicSync

Erasure

The flames swirled around Shining, his company, and the young cargo in their hooves. The corridor to the council hall vanished, giving way to a dark void. The space around them was swept with sigils, ancient arcane wards against unwelcome intrusion.

His mind went through the checks and procedures. The symbols dimmed about him, as one grew brighter. Shining didn't need to read it to know what it said.

If it were loosely translated from Umbral script, Incineration.

The Warden smirked. It was quite the charming summary of complete atomization suspended through a time dilation of up to a century.

As the final sigils faded, his retinue pushed past the barrier and the King's throne room appeared before Shining. He could see his entire personal force standing before him, flanking the walls of the chamber. Their faces were hidden by the dim lighting in the room. The only sources of light were the fires behind the throne, and the illuminated eyes of his lord.

King Sombra addressed him as he bowed, "Warden, rise and take the child."

Shining complied, turning to his compatriot and accepting the bundle they carried.

The guard's fetlock froze in the air. Shining could hear the King speaking.

No, casting.

It was the umbral tongue.

The guard's forehoof contorted, followed by an unnatural twisting in the rest of their body. Shining met their eyes, now glazed over and faintly green. As the stallion's head jerked suddenly, his glasses fell to the ground and shattered.

"Sire!" He called out in horror.

"Silence," the King returned, "this must be done."

The Warden looked to his guards. They all shared the same glazed eyes of their peer on the chamber's floor. They all shared the same unerring stance. The same subtle sway.

This was not just decorum.

They were thralls. Blank.

Shining grimaced as he clutched the foal tighter to his chest.

---

Flurry Heart stirred on the floor of her apartment. There was a knock on her door. She scanned the room for the wisp's presence; he was nowhere to be seen. She sat up and looked over the back of the couch.

Pippinto stood in the doorway. She heard the tail end of his comment upon seeing her hooves behind the seat, "terse-ache, she's still 'ere." He cleared his throat as he saw her. "Laundry's done, Ma'am," he snarked, tossing the bundle hung over his fetlock into her hooves.

She glared at it and then at him. "Already?" she pressed the question.

"Don't see why not," Pip shrugged, walking towards her, "Tis been hours." He knelt down, reaching a hoof towards her forehead. "It'll be my head if anything 'appens to ye." He got a moment's feel of her temperature before Flurry smacked his hoof away.

"Back away, knave."

"Well excuse me, princess," he mocked, turning to the kitchen, "if I trot back here and get concerned 'bout ye being collapsed on the ground."

She reached up to the hoof rest and pulled herself off the ground. She slowly flexed her front legs. One was sore but moveable. She glanced behind her, out the window.

Atop their far tower sat the black-clad pegasi.

Beside them stood the windigo.

"For an assessor, yer really lax about yer personal safety, don'cha think?"
"-es sir, she fainted earlier. Just, fell to the ground."

"I laid out your robes on the bed."
"No, I don't think they're grave. The servant returned and she woke up."

She fell back over the couch, clasping her hooves to her temples. She could hear Pippinto from across the suite, but other voices shared the space within her mind.

"Now's not the time for a nap, the inquiry was scheduled for the turn of the hour."
"She was supposed to leave minutes ago, tell the other Watch that she's still in the apartment."

"Mind your own business." She yelled, rising up and hurrying to her room.

"Yer schedule is my business, Ma'am." Pippinto answered, setting another hooffool of spoons in a drawer.

She threw her robe on to the sound of a whisper. "I'll take the forward point." There was a whoosh, like the flapping of wings, soon replaced by the layered sound of clinking silverware. She turned around to see the windigo before her. She slammed the door shut through his ethereal form.

"Talk. Now."

"Of?"

"The dream, ghost."

"What did you see?"

"The warden," she paused, adjusting the clasp of her cloak, "a guard, and myself."

"And?"

"And he stood by as his subordinates were lobotomized, what is this supposed to tell me?"

"You know what happened. Do you know why?"

Throwing on a pair of maroon saddle bags, she turned to face him. "Why would Sombra do that? It's too harsh a reaction for some illegitimate noble child."

"And yet Sombra willed it."

She thought back to the guards. Their unnatural unity. The sway. The glow.

They were the elites.

Why was the Warden carrying a child? Who were her parents for an entire squadron of guards wiped for secrecy?

She tightened her collar and opened the door.

Flurry said nothing to Pip as she left the apartment. He said nothing to her as he touched a hoof to his amulet.

A quiet stream of muttered curses accented the sounds of simple chores within the suite.