I love a good backstabbing. (Part Three)
There is a thought that occurs to almost every child at one point or another. Sometimes it's expressed as am angry accusation, a spiteful reaction to some world-shattering punishment, such as going to bed on time or being told to clean their room. Less often, it's a dark and intrusive question, that is ultimately discarded based on all available evidence to the contrary. Occasionally, in tragic cases, the question is answered and filed away with grim hopelessness, for it isn't something the child can do anything about.
The filly had more cause than most to ask herself the question, and every time her subconscious passed it along, she tossed it down a deep hole rather than process it. She wouldn't allow herself the possibility of believing it was true. She was a good and faithful filly, and that was all that mattered.
But the thoughts never truly went away. They dd what many things did at the bottom of a hole: they festered.
One pegasus screamed, and that was enough to send the whole herd into action. They scattered, taking wing and fleeing in all directions. Tirek laughed maliciously and bounded after them. Only a few of the pegasi, Silent Partner among them, had the sense to fly away in a straight line; the rest were too panicked to think clearly, and zigged and zagged over the ruined manor like a cloud of gnats, blindly hoping that sheer movement and numbers would keep them safe.
It didn’t. Tirek tracked a pair of pegasi as they neared each other, then opened his mouth wide and drew the magic out of both of them. They fell to the cloud below them, groaning weakly and all but unconscious. Then he picked a new target.
The filly hadn’t attempted to escape. In such an exodus, her small size would have resulted in her being knocked about. Instead, she stood frozen, watching the centaur’s rampage in horror for long moments before snapping out of her daze and hurrying into what remained of the manor. “Father! Mother!” she called. “Where are you?!”
Despite the screams from above and the occasional sound of ponies striking cloudstuff, she heard her mother’s voice, indistinct but ringing out in mid-complain. She followed the sound, staying as low as possible to avoid attracting notice. Outside a small side room, one of the disused ones she rarely had to clean, she spotted her parent’s clothing (specifically her father's best tire and her mother's bejewelled scarf) discarded on the floor. Within there was the sound of rustling cloth and grunts of effort.
Uncertainly – and not entirely certain why she was uncertain – she crept closer. “H-hello?”
“Ah, perfect timing once again!” her father called out. “Come in and give us a hoof, pumpkin.”
Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t to see her parents each struggling to pull on what looked like long, rough-cut garments of some kind. “…but why does it have to be this shade of red?” her mother demanded. “It’s going to clash terribly with my mane, you know it will.”
“It’s his color, dear,” her father said in a reasonable tone. “We just have to… ah, there you are. Help us out getting these on, would you?”
She stared at them. “What in Equestria are you doing?! Tirek is here!”
Her mother glanced upward at the complete lack of building above her. “You don’t say.”
The filly was too frightened to notice. “We have to get out of here! We have to-“
“Run?” her mother asked. “There’s nowhere to run. Tirek has already conquered and drained most of Equestria. Cloudsdale is barely an afterthought to him.”
“W-what?” The filly had had no idea the situation was that bad. “But… but father told everypony…”
“I told them what they wanted to hear,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the crimson cloth around his head. After a moment it popped free. “We could hardly make any bits while people were obsessing about Tirek, now could we? Not without channeling it properly, anyway. Help me find the sleeves, pumpkin.”
She automatically moved to help, even as her mind reeled in confusion. “But what about the Princesses? The, the magic of friendship?”
“Tch. Use your head, girl,” her mother said sharply. “He eats magic. What can they possibly do to stop him?”
“Besides,” added the stallion, “after all the various villains that have attacked Equestria just in the last few years, each defeated by the slimmest of margins? Well, you have to figure their luck’s going to run out sooner or later.”
“Indeed.”
The filly wobbled, her legs feeling weak. “So… that’s it? You’re saying there’s nothing anypony can do?”
“Now, I never said that, pumpkin. As a matter of fact, your mother and I have been working on a plan ever since he started taking over.”
She stared at him. It seemed impossible, but... “R-really? You can beat Tirek?”
“Not as such, but there is a way to turn this to our advantage.” Then he reached out a hoof and lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. “But I need you to trust me, okay?”
“I do,” she said immediately, two little words that would make her scream at herself when she remembered them later.
He smiled at her, then looked at his wife. They were both wearing the same full-body… Gowns? Cloaks? Robes. Robes was probably the right word. “All right. Just follow us, do what we say, and stay quiet. Think of the family.”
The filly nodded obediently, and fell in line as her parents walked back toward the foyer.
"Oh, thank goodness!"
The filly thought this was an odd statement to make after entering the gradually dissipating foyer. "What is it, mother?"
She nodded upward. "The Prism is still intact!" And so it was; the removal and impact of the upper two thirds of the manor had done a lot of damage, but it somehow hadn't caused the glass masterpiece to fall off its pedestal.
"Hah!" her father exclaimed triumphantly. "Lucky us, eh?"
The filly looked around at the devastation. "...lucky?"
"One should always take what victories they can, pumpkin."
"It is a shame about the house, though," her mother noted vaguely.
"Don't worry, my dear. This is why we rent." He stopped, ears perking. "I think he's coming back. Quick, over here." They retreated into a hallway, and the filly peeked around the corner.
Tirek chortled to himself as he pushed through the wispy shreds of the doorway. “Oh, I shouldn’t have indulged myself,” the centaur said aloud, addressing the only audience he cared to entertain: himself. As he spoke, he emitted a faint glow and grew noticeably larger. “It always makes me put on a few pounds.”
As he chuckled at his own wit, the filly finally got a clear view of how the centaur was managing to stand on clouds... even though the explanation made no immediate sense.
Balloons. Dozens of balloons were tied around Tirek's barrel, blues and yellows and reds. There was absolutely no way they should have been able to support him, especially since he was gaining mass with every pony he drained... but then she noticed there was a face, or a caricature of a horned and goatee'd face, drawn on each one. She didn't recognize it, but she felt she could make an educated guess. The method of Tirek's flight didn't have to make sense, if Discord was involved.
The centaur finished laughing and glanced around. “Now, then. I’m sure I saw a few other morsels in here. Where could they be…?”
“Did everypony else get away?” her father whispered.
She shook her head. “He drained a whole lot of ponies. It was awful.” The unluckiest of them all had fallen into the park. Soil was more unyielding than clouds, and the presence of trees and bushes would have made the impact particularly less comfortable.
“I mean is anypony still in the manor?” he insisted.
“N-no, I don’t think so. They were all outside somewhere.”
Her parents seemed to relax slightly. “Good. Just stay behind me and don’t say anything.”
“Yes, father.” He was going to cut some sort of deal, he had to be. It’s what he always did. It’s what he was good at. But what could he possibly offer to…?
”Hail, Lord Tirek!”
She stared as they walked ahead of her in their red robes, moving to the middle of the room (or what was left of it) and kneeling before the centaur. Tirek turned an uncomprehending gaze down at them. “…what is this…?” he muttered.
"Hail, Great Lord!" her father cried, rushing forward to kneel at the centaur's hooves. "Hail, mighty conqueror! Hail, Lord Tirek!"
His wife quickly joined him. "Hail, O fabled sorcerer! Hail, Lord Tirek!" She glanced sternly behind her, and with few other options the filly scampered up next to her and dropped to her knees.
Tirek stared, and only the barrage of flattery stayed his hand. "And what, exactly, are you supposed to be?"
"O Great Lord," her father said, bowing lower, "we are but simple ponies seeking only to bask in your glory. Word of your victories in the land below have spread even to the sky!"
"Your grandeur is even more magnificent than we'd dared hope!" her mother added. "What an honor it is to simply bask in your presence!"
"Hail, Lord Tirek!" her parents declared together.
Even as she trembled in the centaur's presence, the filly relaxed slightly. It's just like I thought. Father can talk anypony into anything. Not even Tirek can resist-
"Well, that's very kind of you to say," the centaur said, his voice dripping with insincerity, "but I'm a very busy creature, so if you don't mind..." His hand reached out, and his jaw began to gape, preparing to feed.
Her father spoke quickly. "Uh, of course, it would be a great honor to contribute to your conquest, O Great Lord..." He hesitated, then suddenly brightened with inspiration. "I just hope that the feast we collected for you was to your liking."
Tirek paused and looked down at the food scattered by the fleeing pegasi. "Feast? Even if I tried your little tidbits, they'd hardly satisfy me."
"Not those, O Great Lord," her mother said, catching on. "We mean all those ponies you so artfully drained of their magic! Gathering them up for your convenience was the least we could do!"
The centaur looked as confused as the filly felt, but lowered his hand. “Well. This is certainly new. You’re saying you brought those ponies here for my benefit?”
“Of course, Great Lord,” her father oozed, applying enough butter to his words to grease an elephant. “We’ve been following news of your victories with great interest, and we knew it couldn’t be much longer before you reached Cloudsdale. We wanted to give you a proper welcome.”
The filly stared at her father, aghast. What was he saying? He couldn’t possibly mean it!
…right?
No, if she thought about it, what he said couldn’t be true. They’d been planning this party for weeks! It could only be pure coincidence that Tirek arrived in the middle of it. Her father had to be just taking credit for this to get on the centaur’s good side.
Still, it was a pretty horrible thing to say. She couldn’t imagine even joking about something like this. But she had to trust her father. She did trust him.
Tirek regarded her parents for a long moment, eyebrow raised. “Interesting. I didn’t think I’d run into ponies who… appreciated my methods.”
"Oh, we're quite the connoisseurs of villainy," her mother said loftily. "You've always been one of our favorites, you know."
"Quite so!" her father added. "Chrysalis is just a thief in the night, Nightmare Moon never really got the chance to do anything, and the less said about Discord the better, but you? A creature of power and ambition, never afraid to simply take what he wants from life! It's rather inspiring, to be quite honest."
...okay, this... this did not feel good at all, kowtowing to a creature like Tirek. Her parents seemed way too comfortable in this role. But as long as they all made it out of this without getting drained, maybe it would be worth it. She just had to believe in them, that they would all get through this together...
Tirek laughed. "Well, well, well! This is a pleasant surprise! You're quite twisted for ponies, aren't you?"
Her father bowed his head. "Thank you for your kind words, Great Lord."
"Yes... perhaps I could be persuaded to let you go..."
"Oh, we would hate to put you out, Great Lord," her mother said with patently false meekness, "but if you insist..."
Then in a quick movement, he grabbed her parents, one in each hand. He wasn't quite large enough to completely engulf them, but he was able to lift them both easily. "...if I were a complete idiot," he snarled. "No ponies are that twisted. How do I know this isn't some kind of trap, or a desperate ploy to escape?"
The filly cowered in place. Oh no... oh no... oh no...
But her parents seemed oddly calm, enough to even give Tirek pause. "We thought you might ask that, Great Lord," her mother said with a serene smile.
"And to prove our conviction," said her father, "we've been preparing a special offering, just for you."
He eyed them warily. "And that is...?"
They both extended a hoof below and behind them. "Our daughter!"
Time itself seemed to freeze around the filly, with sharp and brittle edges. ...what?
Tirek peered down, and then further down. "That scrawny little thing? Really?"
"Oh, don't be fooled by her size, Lord Tirek," her father said. "I think you'll find her quite the tasty delicacy."
The centaur looked faintly disgusted. "You do know I don't actually eat my victims, don't you?"
"Of course, Lord. But we've been giving her special magic-rich medicine, used to treat unicorns who've been low on their reserves."
"Yes, it's in quite high demand lately, for obvious reasons," her mother said, even as the filly's jaw dropped open. "But we managed to secure a supply shortly after you began your conquest. I imagine she might even have as much magic as an alicorn by now!" Her smile turned nasty. "A small one, at any rate."
If the filly wasn't paralyzed by fear, she'd be staggering on her hooves. This was what the medicine was for? To placate Tirek if he ever managed to reach Cloudsdale? By making her... more delicious to him?
As she stood, transfixed by shock, Tirek leaned closer and actually took a long breath in through his hideously short nose. Her short-cropped mane rustled in the resulting breeze, and his eyes lit up. "Oh, so she does!" he exclaimed in dark glee. "Not quite alicorn level, I suspect, but as much as a dozen unicorns at least. All in such a tiny package!" He laughed. "How delightful!"
"We are glad you approve, Great Lord," her mother said demurely.
"What a treat this has been!" The centaur set the two pegasi back on their hooves. "I accept your offering. You're free to go, with my blessing."
"Thank you, Great Lord!" they said in unison, then turned and walked toward the filly, heading back into the ruined manor.
"Mother?" she asked tremulously. "Father?"
They paused near her. "Sorry about this, pumpkin," her father said, though he didn't put too much effort into sounding sincere. "This is just the way it's gotta be."
"Tch. You've only yourself to blame," her mother added. "Perhaps if you'd gotten that cutie mark, you would have been too valuable to lose."
The filly cowered in renewed shame. "B-but... even so, you're just going to let him...?!"
The stallion laid a hoof on his daughter's head. "Hush now. Remember what we've always said: we all have to make sacrifices for the sake of the family."
"Precisely. And today," the mare said, "that sacrifice is you."
Then they walked straight past her. Her attention was drawn toward the massive centaur that towered above her, chuckling evilly as her drew closer. She knew he could have just taken her magic from where he stood, but he was clearly enjoying her fear.
The filly's faith in her parents, though badly battered, was not quite fatally wounded. She forced herself to turn to look at them. She felt they must surely be showing some iota of regret for giving their only daughter to-
"...once we go through a quick bankruptcy," her father was saying, "we'll be debt free and ready to start all over, and with all our undeclared assets as well. We should end up much better off."
"Well, I, for one, am simply salivating at the thought of selling to drained ponies," her mother replied, happier than the filly had ever heard her. "Negotiating with ponies too tired to even attempt to haggle sounds simply divine!"
Her father glanced backwards. "Too bad about her, though."
The last fragments of hope rose in the filly's heart, only to be shattered immediately as her mother asked, "Does it matter?"
"Well, no, but it was useful, having somepony around to take care of all the little details. She won't be good for much once he's done with her."
Her eyes narrowed. "I hope you're not suggesting we make another," she said coldly.
"It might be worth considering," he countered, "unless you'd rather pay somepony to do everything around here..."
She shuddered. "Oh... all right. Though I'm not wearing the costume this time."
"Well, we can negotiate terms later..."
The filly stared at them hopelessly, helplessly, as the facade she'd built for her own benefit was torn to shreds by harsh reality. Everything she'd ever believed had been a lie. Everything she'd ever done to make her parents happy, to make them proud, had been for nothing.
They... they don't care about me. She swallowed, forcing it past the huge lump in her throat. They... never cared about me.
There is a thought that occurs to almost every child at some point, whether justly or unjustly: my parents don't love me. Deep within the filly's mind, the corpses of that thought, repressed and buried, had grown bloated with the evidence her conscious mind wouldn't allow her to recognize, releasing putrid gases of dark feelings.
And now, drifting down from the ashes of the filly's world, a single spark set the whole thing ablaze in a vast explosion.
There was sorrow, and confusion, and hatred, but mostly there was anger, far too much anger to exist within such a tiny body. It rose within her, the flames of rage igniting hidden memories as it ascended, gaining more and more fuel with each passing instant.
THEY NEVER CARED ABOUT ME! I was always just a... a tool to them! A convenience! Something to use up and THROW AWAY!
The anger blossomed in her mind, seething and growing like a living thing. Filled with a desperate and unstoppable need to be acted upon, it reached out to grasp everything she'd learned in her short life. Every example of deceit and manipulation, every broken promise, every lesson her parents didn't realize they were teaching her. Her rage brought them before her as a sacrament, all the things she didn't know she knew, and she felt them filling her thoughts like nothing she'd ever felt before.
They won't get away with this! I won't let them get away with this!
But be smart about it, a new instinct told her. You can't fight the centaur. Whatever else happens, you're probably going to end up drained like everypony else. And you can't fight your 'parents', at least not directly. As far as your fate is concerned, they've won.
You can, however, make sure they don't get to enjoy their victory. You can make them regret.
A great chessboard of possibilities was spread out before her, and she suddenly knew instinctively how each piece would need to be moved to secure what victory she could. The first gambit was to gather up the anger, contain it, control it, and then forge it into something more useful than the seething fury it wanted to be. Her parents had their masks, so she made a mask of her own. One to let her hide her true intentions from the world. One to keep her from ever being hurt again.
The filly looked up at Lord Tirek, near-conqueror of Equestria, who stood over ten times her height... and smiled.
The centaur paused, slightly taken aback.
It was a good smile. She'd seen it on her father's face enough times. "Golly, Mister Lord Tirek," she chirped in an ingratiating tone, "it sure is an honor to have my magic taken by someone as amazing as you!"
His eyes narrowed. "Oh, come now. I hope you don't think you can try the same trick your parents just pulled."
"Oh, gosh, no!" She could feel the pegasi's gazes on her, stopped before they left the room entirely. "I'm totally on board with donating all this magic to the cause! When you think about it, it just makes sense, doesn't it?"
It didn't, of course, but it was just enough to push past Tirek's suspicions. "...right. In that case..." He raised his hand once more.
"But first," she said, flitting up to wrap her forelegs around a finger, never losing the smile, "why don't I show you around the house a little?"
He scowled. "I'm not the slightest bit interested in your house. I destroyed your house."
"Which is great! That'll make it so much easier to show it to you!" She tugged at his finger, and was spared the implications of a certain anatomical joke (both because she didn't spend much time with other children, or for that matter her own father, and also because she wasn't born with fingers). "C'mon, you've come so far, you may as well get the grand tour. It'll only take a few minutes."
For a moment, Tirek forgot he could withdraw his finger at any time. "I don't want to-!"
"Leave the conqueror alone, pumpkin," the stallion said sternly. "I'm sure he has a busy night ahead of him."
The filly continued to smile as she turned toward him. He and his wife were controlling their expressions well, but she could tell that they were feeling uncertain. The script had gone wrong, and they weren't sure what was going on. Which was just what she wanted.
"But father," she said, her tone rich in reasonableness, "you always said I should treat any guest to our house with the utmost courtesy! Surely I should give Lord Tirek the same consideration? Or should I treat him worse than mere ponies?"
The stallion's mouth opened... and then stayed like that for several seconds as his mind ran through the various outcomes of anything he said. "...Er... I..." He looked up at Tirek, who scowled at him, daring him to make the wrong choice. "We... would be honored to entertain you further, Great Lord."
The centaur snorted. "And so you should be. But I have no intention of-"
"...missing out on getting the recognition you deserve, I know!" the filly cut in enthusiastically. "Like you said, other ponies just don't get how awesome you are! This might be your only chance to get properly royal treatment!"
Tirek paused at that, and rubbed his chin. The word royal clearly appealed to him. "Hmm... perhaps I could stay a bit longer at that..." Then he glanced around at the building he'd bisected. "...though there's hardly much left of the place to 'tour'..."
"Very true. Not that we're complaining," the stallion said quickly. "But if you'd like to come back another time I'm sure we'll have it-"
"Oh, I know!" the filly interjected. After being told to be seen and not heard most of her life, interrupting was thrilling. "Why don't you show him your presentation? Ponies always love that!"
He carefully restrained a scowl. "Now, now, pumpkin. I'm sure his Lordship wouldn't want to sit through my boring little speech."
She drooped. "Oh. Okay. If you think you know better than Lord Tirek what he wants to do, I guess that's that."
The centaur glared at the stallion, who again went through a predictive analysis of the conversation. "...uh..."
"What is this 'presentation'?" Tirek demanded.
"Oh, it's just... a little business thing I do, to get ponies to invest in my latest project. Nothing major."
"And ponies find it... entertaining?"
The stallion tossed a glare at the filly, who looked entirely free of guile. "...I try to make it engaging, yes," he admitted.
"Hmph." Tirek regarded the stallion a moment longer, then clearly decided who deserved to make decisions in the vicinity. "Well, if it's good enough for ponies, it must be good enough for me, mustn't it?"
The stallion, who had equally clearly wanted the centaur to be long gone by this point, frowned slightly. "Actually, shouldn't it be the other way a-" Tirek stared at him until he ducked his head obsequiously. "As you command, O Great Lord. This way, if you please."
The stallion had a talent for artistry that rivaled his wife’s, though his medium was not clouds, but words. He wove them like a net, masterfully catching and drawing the ear as a painter draws the eye. Even the hulking form of Tirek listened fully enthralled, intrigued despite all the talk of investments and portfolios being entirely outside his experience.
(For her part, the filly could now appreciate with enhanced clarity how the presentation was wholly devoid of anything approaching honesty, while still being very careful to never say anything that was completely untrue. And what it lacked in truthfulness, it more than made up for in earnest sincerity. It was some of the stallion’s finest work, and she tucked it away for study and emulation at a later date.)
The speech had begun to take a darker tone, touching on recent events. Which was counter to what he’d said earlier about not wanting to scare everypony, but she realized that was more about timing. Controlled fear was a powerful tool.
“…but dark days have come to our land, my friends,” he said solemnly. “Every day we hear shocking news from the surface, each more dreadful than the last. Sometimes we lose contact with entire cities. Friends, family… just gone. More and more it seems as though… Equestria is entering its final days.”
He paused, his head bowed… then, in a move that was unlikely in the original script, looked up with a cheeky grin and gestured at the massive centaur. “And I wonder whose fault that is?” he asked in a jocular tone. “Huh? Am I right?”
Tirek sneered in appreciation. The filly had perched on his shoulder; he didn’t seem to notice, or possibly care. The mare stood at the back of the room with a sour expression.
This was… delightful. Stallion, mare, centaur… they were all just a bit uncertain, evidenced by a slight hesitation in everything they did. None of them were sure how exactly they’d gotten into this situation, but going along with it was easier than stopping to try to figure it out. And the filly simply watched, and smiled.
“Nevertheless,” the stallion said, returning to his melancholy tone, “I still believe in a brighter future. That beyond these clouds, we will find a golden sun.” His voice rose in heroic optimism. “That tomorrow will be a brand new day!”
He paused for a long moment, eyes gleaming, then with a swift motion bit the cloth covering the table next to him and pulled it away, revealing an array of small bottles containing a disquietingly orange liquid, as well as a standing cardboard image of a large white pony with a flowing mane. “And what better way to start off a brand new day than with our new product line, Cestellia’s Sunshine Drinks! You too can get in on the cloud floor of this amazing new investment opportunity-“
”Celestia?!” Tirek thundered, cutting the stallion off. “So you are in league with the princesses! This was a trap all along!”
The stallion cowered. “No, no, Great Lord! I said Cestellia!” He very carefully enunciated the word. “I’ve never even met the Princesses, I swear!”
The centaur scowled suspiciously. “Then why would you invoke something so similar to her name and…” He peered at the cardboard pony. It was a caricature, and a greatly exaggerated one at that. “…a rough approximation of her image?” he finished grudgingly.
“Golly.” The stallion turned innocent eyes on Tirek. “I honestly didn’t see the resemblance. I sure hope ponies don’t give me their bits just because they assume Princess Celestia is somehow involved in the project.”
Tirek frowned down at him, then suddenly his eyebrows raised. “Oh… oh, I see!” He chuckled maliciously. “Clever.”
“It’s what I do,” he replied humbly. “This is actually going to be my first attempt to sell physical merchandise, which is a bit more of a long-term investment than I’m used to, but I’m quite excited about the opportunities it presents.”
“Hmm? And what did you sell before now?”
The answer was simple and matter-of-fact: “Dreams.”
Tirek clearly didn’t fully understand, but reached out one long arm and plucked up one of the orange bottles. It was tiny in his hand and the stopper had been designed to be opened by mouth, but the glass was thin and it didn’t take much effort to snap the top off. The liquid inside smelled of oranges in much the same way that pine-scented disinfectant smells of a mountainside evergreen forest, which is to say not at all without a copious application of imagination. “What is this?” the centaur demanded.
“Cestellia’s Sunshine Drinks.”
“Yes, but is it juice? A potion?”
“It’s… a drink. It doesn’t meet the legal definition of anything else. But there’s no law against selling it, and our quality inspector said the taste was refreshing and zestful! Isn’t that right, pumpkin?”
“Oh, golly, yes, father!” The only good part of that ordeal had been that it wasn’t oatmeal. It hadn't been a good taste, far from it, but at least it was different. “You should show him the advertising!”
“Capital idea!” He pushed the folded whiteboard on its rollers to the front of the presentation area, waited… then frowned, but only briefly before the façade covered it back up. “That’s your cue, pumpkin.”
“Gee, I’d love to,” she said with genuinely fabricated regret, “but I should probably stay up here with Lord Tirek! I’m the sacrifice and everything, remember? We don’t want him thinking I’m trying to escape, now do we?”
“Uh… yes,” he conceded. "I mean, no." He stared at the whiteboard for a long moment. He’d opened it exactly once before, and the results of that encounter had led directly to the duty being given to his daughter. “You know… perhaps the advertising isn’t strictly speaking necessary…”
“Oh, but it’s part of the entire experience!” the filly gushed. “You don’t want to deprive the Great Lord of his entertainment, do you?”
“Is there a problem?” the centaur growled. “I don’t have all day!”
“Oh, no, Great Lord,” replied the stallion slightly nervously. “It’s just that this thing can be a bit… finicky…”
“It’s a piece of wood! Get on with it!”
“Y-yes, Great Lord.” He approached the whiteboard, which sat innocently before him, obviously incapable of anything resembling intent, let alone malice. And yet...
But it was, as Tirek had pointed out, just a piece of wood! A thing made by ponies! His daughter opened it all the time without any problems. Surely he could do the same. The first time had to have been a fluke. Now that the filly had broken it in, it must be entirely safe. He told himself all this, and almost managed to believe it.
He gingerly reached one hoof toward the latch holding the four panels shut, as one might treat an armed mousetrap...
It was the springs, really. They were top of the line, perhaps too much so. Even after several moons of use, they were still more powerful than they strictly needed to be. It was a selling point, in fact; the board would snap open in the blink of an eye, a feature sure to wow all members of the audience! And the complaints about potential injuries were clearly overblown. It didn't take much practice at all to learn how to lean against the side of it in order to open the latch safely.
The stallion had never bothered to try.
With whip-like speed, the panels slammed open, striking the stallion and propelling him across the room at top speed. It was Tirek's damage to the mansion, ironically, that saved him from being hurt. The walls had already begun to lose cohesion, and instead of a jarring impact he passed completely through as though it had been made of thick gelatin, ending in an awkward heap on the other side. The panel itself, of course, had been all too solid, leaving him feeling distinctly bruised and slightly concussed, but all things considered, it could have been worse.
After a moment to collect himself, he climbed groggily back through the hole he'd made. "It's okay" he declared. "I'm all right!"
"Perhaps not for long..." Tirek responded with rising menace.
The stallion looked blearily up at the centaur, then at his wife, who had turned noticeably pale. He followed her gaze.
The whiteboard had indeed snapped open... and then (as the filly had known it would) it had snapped partly shut again, its central panels closed but its first and fourth panels open and visible. And displayed there was...
The message was to go on a billboard. There weren't many in Equestria, apart from major population centers like Manehattan, but the idea was catching on and they could be found along train tracks and intercity roads. They were cheap to make, but the land they were on wasn't free in the eyes of the Princesses, and so there was a small - but not too small - monthly fee involved.
But nopony, the stallion had reasoned, owned the sky.
Any pegasus could put together a free-floating cloud sign, and a bit of fixative and coloring would let it last for a few weeks, if the weather was good. And you could put them anywhere, not just along roads. Any pony looking upwards might see one, and become a potential customer on the spot. The letters were bright and bold to stand out against the white background - though the fixative helped there, increasing cloud density to make it a light gray - and set at a jaunty angle designed to catch the eye. While the stallion was new to pitching his ideas to the general public, he felt somewhat proud of it:
TIRED IN THE MORNINGS? DON'T WANT TO GO TO WORK? START YOUR DAY OFF RIGHT WITH CESTELLIA'S SUNSHINE DRINKS!
...or, at least, that was how it was supposed to look under normal circumstances (and how one particular listener understood it after whatever translation process in play had taken effect; who knew how it looked in the original Equstrian). The half-folded whiteboard meant it now read, completely coincidentally and against all reason:
TIREK? STINKS!
"Really."
"What?"
"It just happened to come out like that."
"It did! The angle of the writing kind of made the ends overlap."
"Hmph. That sounds incredibly contrived and over-complicated."
"Oh, whatever. It's not like I made it happen. I just knew it would."
At any rate, the new message was hilarious to a child, and these days would even garner considerable support from the general population. But it was not looking to be a popular message for the current audience.
The stallion gaped at the board, then at the centaur, whose glower had only deepened. "M-my deepest apologies, Great Lord!" he stammered. "This thing is-"
"And you were going to show that to ponies?" Tirek asked. "To entertain them?"
"No! I-I mean, yes, sort of, but..." He quickly and bravely risked another attempt at opening the whiteboard, which complied for once. "See, this is what it's supposed to say! I've come up with a whole new ingenious plan to cheaply and effectively spread word all across Equestria-"
"...that I 'stink'," the centaur concluded. final as a tomb.
"No, not at all! That was never my-"
"I think," his wife interrupted coldly, "that we should move on to something more pleasing to the Great Lord's eye. My sculptures, for instance. Each a masterpiece, and they never fail to please."
The centaur continued to glare at her husband, who was too terrified to move.
"Oh, I think that's a wonderful idea, mother!" the filly chirped. "Let's go see them, Lord Tirek! Mother makes the most beautiful sculptures! Don't worry about father and his silly old whiteboard. I mean, he's so far beneath you, how could he possibly insult you?"
The tension continued a moment longer... then Tirek, though clearly still tempted to escalate the situation, forced himself to relax. "Yes... I suppose you're right." He turned his glower upon the mare. "Lead on, then. And they had better be as good as you say."
Her nerve was stronger than her husband's, but she still trembled slightly under the pitch black gaze. "I assure you, Great Lord, you won't be disappointed."
"It's strange," Tirek said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I'm feeling ever so slightly disappointed right now."
The exhibit hall that housed the mare's sculptures was mostly no longer doing so. There had been a dozen pieces lining the walls, each in its own alcove and protected from view by a thin cloth (because presentation was vital to experience them properly). The destruction of the manor's upper floors had allowed a strong breeze to circulate through the room, enough to strip away the cloths and deal serious damage to the insufficiently treated sculpture within. Even to an untrained eye, they had clearly changed from "art" to "rubble".
The mare scowled at her poor luck, and instinctively sought someone to blame. But she could hardly point a hoof at the true cause of the damage, now could she? Not if she wanted to remain undrained.
Well, that was all right. There was always the usual scapegoat.
She turned her glare upon her daughter. "You useless-"
But the filly spoke more quickly, as though anticipating her words. "Oh, no, mother! All your beautiful sculptures! And even after I used extra fixative to keep them safe, just like you said!"
The mare experienced another historically rare bout of speechlessness. Had the filly just... lied? Blatantly? Where in the world had she learned that? No, it was obvious. Her husband was clearly a terrible influence on the child. But regardless, the mare had been cheated of her opportunity to vent, at least without her own deception being exposed. "..well," she managed, "you must have done it wrong."
"Gosh, I'm awfully sorry about that, mother!" said the filly, in what the mare considered to be a far too cheerful tone.
She glowered at her daughter a moment longer, then looked around. "Ah!" she said. "At least the true centerpiece for the evening hasn't been damaged!" She moved to the far end of the hall, where a heavy curtain hung suspended from a circular rail on a pole. "This," she added, "is the most important thing I've ever produced!"
The filly said nothing.
"Behold!" She drew back the curtain with a well-practiced flourish, revealing the vague curves of Tribute to the Ingenuity of Necessity.
Tirek frowned down at it. "...what is it?"
She smiled. She liked to let that kind of question develop. It made the reveal and subsequent realization all the more powerful. "I call it," dramatic pause, "my Tr-"
"It kinda looks like two alicorns beating up a centaur," the filly said thoughtfully.
The mare's eyes went wild. "What? No!"
"...you're right," he said, his frown deepening. "It does, doesn't it?"
"No, that's... my Tribute to..." But she knew it was no use. First impressions were vital to appreciating her work, and once an impression was in place, it took a long time to fade.
Her husband, who never really understood the intricacies of her art, hissed, "Why in the world did you make something like that?!"
"I didn't!" she protested. "It's just that she..." She looked up at the filly, who returned her gaze innocently.
Almost innocently. Was that a hint of a smirk?
But she couldn't worry about that this exact moment. Tirek was continuing to stare at the Tribute and becoming angrier by the second. "It's obviously nothing like that, Great Lord. You're just... looking at it in the wrong way."
"No, I don't think so," he rumbled. "I can just about see their cutie marks."
If she weren't becoming utterly terrified, she'd be proud that her work could suggest such intricate details while being little more than a cluster of lumps. "Simply a... a trick of the light. Let me just..." She cast about for a solution, then out of sheer panic flapped her wings strongly, sending a gust of wind at the Tribute. The filly had followed her directions to the letter, and there was barely enough fixative coating the sculpture to hold it together in a closed room. Now it tore apart in seconds, leaving clumps of slightly dense cloud falling to the floor. "Oops! How clumsy of me!"
Her husband gasped. "The sale price!"
"Better it than us!" she shot back, then looked upwards. "I apologize if my work was... less than pleasing, Great Lord."
He snorted and loomed over them. "I am increasingly starting to think that sparing you two was a mistake." Tirek glowered down at the pegasi. “Is there anything else you’d like to show me, or should I just flatten you both right now?”
They looked at each other for a moment, then the stallion lifted his head. “I admit, there have been some… humps and bumps, Great Lord, but I’m sure we can patch things up here.” Then he turned his gaze suspiciously upon the filly. “But do you mind if we have a quick word with our daughter first?”
“…very well. Though I doubt it will change much.”
He reached up and nudged the child off his shoulder, and she glided down to speak to the ponies that were, technically, her parents. “Yes, father?”
“Don’t you ‘yes, father’ me,” he growled quietly. “What exactly are you up to?”
“Golly! Whatever do you mean?”
“You’ve been acting strangely,” the mare said. “Ever since…” The she stopped.
The filly’s mask slipped, and her grin turned spiteful. “Ever since what, mother?”
Husband and wife remained silent. Not out of guilt, she knew, but purely from a lack of any response that wouldn’t sound foolish.
“Well, I think I’ve been acting perfectly normal!” she crowed. “Maybe for the first time ever! And haven’t we been having just a wonderful time with Lord Tirek?”
“You need to stop this,” the stallion insisted. “You need to be a good filly and do what you’re told!”
“Or what?” she demanded. “You’ve already decided to feed me to him! What more can you possibly do? And why shouldn’t I have a little fun before then?”
“You wouldn’t dare!” the mare hissed. “You ungrateful little-“
And then the filly made a beginner’s mistake. One could monologue and talk about their plans , but it was important to save it for a time when one’s enemies couldn’t do anything about it. But the mention of ‘gratitude’ had sparked fresh anger in her mind. “In fact, why don’t I tell Tirek how you called him a ‘horrible brute’? Or how you, father, just this morning said he was a red oaf! I bet he’d just love to hear that!” She smirked at them. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you two with me!”
They glared at her for long moments, then in a display of teamwork astounding in a pair of ponies who were so rarely even in the same room, they acted almost in unison, surging forward and taking the filly by surprise. The stallion reached her first, roughly grasping her foreleg between his teeth and with a quick motion throwing her to the ground. He then laid his hoof on her back, just enough to pin her down. “Lord Tirek!” she screamed. “They-!”
But the mare had scooped up a lump of disintegrating wall, formed it into a ball with her wingtips, and now thrust it into the filly’s mouth. Even degraded, it was still more solid than gaseous, with the thick consistency of wet clay. The filly tried to dislodge it, but her hooves were too clumsy and her wings couldn’t reach. “Seen, but not heard,” the mare snarled. “The first lesson we taught you!”
The filly scraped frantically at her mouth, glaring at the pegasi with sheer hatred.
“Is there a problem?” Tirek asked menacingly.
“Not at all, Great Lord,” the stallion replied. “We just thought you might like to enjoy your prize before we go on!”
“You’ll feel better after a little snack, I’m sure,” the mare agreed.
The centaur hesitated. “…well, perhaps you’re right. And that amount of magic is tempting…”
He advanced upon the filly – not that there was much distance to cross - even as the pegasi moved back to a respectful and safe distance. The filly finally managed to spit out the cloudstuff, but knew it was too late. Anything she said now would be seen as the act of desperation it was. And she couldn’t escape, not with her underdeveloped wings. But she had to do something!
She glanced back at the mare and stallion. Preferably, something that would hurt them.
The spark of an idea formed, and she quickly picked out the potential moves that would make it a reality. Yes. It was a long shot, a very long shot, but if nothing else, maybe she could get rid of that. But it would require surviving the next few seconds.
Tirek reached toward her, his mouth opening…
”I can show you more magic!” she shouted.
The massive centaur hesitated, distracted by the one thing that could tempt him. Just for a moment, but long enough to allow the filly to zip under his legs and into the hallway beyond. Behind her, she heard the stallion call, “Don’t worry, Great Lord! We won’t let her get away!”
Stallion and mare chased their daughter through the hallways of the ruined manor. But while neither of the adults were out of shape, the filly had the advantage of a daily routine that emphasized speed and endurance. She might not be able to outpace Tirek’s ridiculous leg length, not to mention his magic, but the filly could run rings around the pegasi, and did. She sped into and across the dining hall before darting into the kitchen.
“She’s trying to get out the back!” the mare shouted. “I’ll head her off!” She picked up speed and flew above the ceilingless room, eyes alert to spot the filly…
There she was. But instead of making a break out through the servant’s entrance, she was searching the various tools and such carried on the bottom tray of her little wheeled cart. As the mare began to dive toward her, the filly sped away from the cart with a somewhat familiar object held between her forehooves, heading into the manor, rather than away. She raced past the stallion too quickly for him to react, and husband and wife fell into pursuit once more.
It wasn’t a long chase. The filly’s journey ended at the foyer, with the sun’s setting rays refracting through the Prism and causing everything around it to be imbued with a soft golden glow. The mare landed in the entrance hallway, wings spread wide to prevent escape, while the stallion entered the room from the dining hall, breathing a bit heavily. The pegasi slowly walked toward their child, who stood trembling near the Prism’s pedestal. Behind the stallion, the giant centaur leaned his elbows on the top of the remnants of the staircases and watched the ensuing drama with malicious amusement.
“Give it up, child,” the mare said. “You can’t escape Lord Tirek, you must know that.”
The filly didn’t respond, standing on her hind legs with her back pressed against the pedestal, body shaking violently.
…no. Not her body, the mare slowly realized, but…
“What’s that she’s holding?” the stallion wondered. “Some kind of can…?”
…her forelegs were shaking something. Whatever she’d taken from her cart, presumably. And now that she got a better look at it…
The mare’s eyes went wide even as the filly paused and held up a canister of fixative spray. Its label was too small to read from her position, but she knew it had two warnings in very large letters. One was a caution against overshaking the can. As this warning had now been flagrantly ignored, the canister was now making sharp pinging noises. Every few second, it jerked in the filly’s grip. “W-what do you know?” she said with a nervous grin. “I wasn’t sure this would actually do something.”
“Put that down this instant, child,” the mare ordered, though not too loudly. “Very carefully.”
“What, and deny Lord Tirek his show?” The rate of metallic dings increased, cutting short the filly’s smirk. “But yeah, better end this now.”
And then she shot straight upward, spinning and twisting in the air but being careful to never let go of the can. She hovered at an elevation twice as high as Tirek was tall. She didn’t dare go higher, else risk the appearance of escape, which would break the spell. She just hoped this much would do.
“Mares and gentlestallions!” she called. “Centaurs of all ages! For my next trick…”
“DON’T!” the mare screamed, realizing her intention.
“…I’m going to make a big shiny rock disappear!”
And she threw the canister downward with all her might, which wasn’t much, but gravity lent a hoof.
And the other warning on the can’s label was common to most aerosol product, and warned against puncture or high impact.
The ground at the base of the pedestal was mostly solid, to support the pedestal and the precious item it held. It wasn’t completely solid, but it was enough. The canister burst with a shockingly loud boom.
What the filly expected was for the concussion to tip over either the pedestal or the Prism itself. The treasure was far too heavy to be supported by a cloud that wasn’t well reinforced; even the ground where the canister struck wouldn’t be strong enough. If it fell, the refractive glass would drop through the floor like a heated marble through warm butter.
The Prism, in fact, did not fall, and neither did the pedestal. As such. But there was a reason one didn’t make entire cloud buildings our of super-dense material, and what the filly didn’t expect was for the contents of the canister to be propelled outward in a vast, mostly colorless sphere from the point of impact.
And as the fixative drifted downward onto the floor, the cloudstuff began to grow darker and darker and darker.
Clouds don’t make noise when they tear apart, line wood or stone might, but there was a definite vibration in the ground, a harsh shudder as more and more dense clumps were seized by gravity. They didn’t rain, as the water content had not changed, but simply dropped. And it just kept happening.
The pegasi took to the air, watching aghast as a massive crater formed in the middle of what remained of their home.
Ultimately, it was indeed the pedestal that dropped first. And it took with it most of the floor. By the time the last clump fell toward the ground far below, there was a thirty hooflength wide hole where the foyer used to be.
They stared at it. Then they stared at the filly, who was a bit overwhelmed at the damage she’d caused. She managed a weak and tremulous smile. “…ta-daaaaa!”
They ignored her for now and landed at the edge of the hole, peering downward. A moment later the filly joined them out of grim curiosity. There were layers of cumulus and stratus below Cloudsdale, which was scheduled for a lofty altostratus this week. They could just barely see a glint which might have been the Prism, then it was gone, punching through the lower layers to oblivion.
Husband and wife slowly lifted their heads and looked at each other, each fighting past their grief. “…the insurance?” the mare asked. “Can we recoup any of it?”
The stallion shook his head, fighting back tears. “There’s a clause specifically against damage caused by members of the family. We’ll get nothing.”
“But… can’t we blame it on the caterers, like we originally planned?”
“They’ll check! Too many guests saw it tonight!”
Silence fell, as did their spirits… then the mare said, “We could… we could blame it on Tirek.”
Her husband brightened slightly. “That’s… a good idea. It’s a great idea! The whole house is destroyed, so we can definitely include it in the damages!”
“And it’s not like they’re going to ask him!” she added happily.
“The physical incarnation of a bull in a china shop?” he asked. “I should certainly think not!”
“Oh, that’s rather insulting to bulls, don’t you think?”
They laughed out of sheer relief and out of complete forgetfulness. Neither of these states lasted very long.
Ironically, it was the filly’s artificial magic reserves that saved her. As Tirek abruptly drained the three ponies, the stallion and mare fell to drab weariness within seconds, but her own magic lasted longer than Tirek’s patience. She flitted away from the hole even as they slumped to the ground.
And then a huge pair of hands reached down and grabbed them both, along with a sizeable chunk of dense cloudstuff that hadn’t quite managed to fall. He roughly clumped them into a ball, with their heads still visible. “It’s not that I disapprove of your deception,” he said, anger laced through every word as they blearily stared up at him, “but what I do resent is your utter lack of respect in even thinking of it. I should have known never to trust a pony.”
And, ignoring their feeble pleas, he held the ball over the hole. “Goodbye.”
For a long moment, there was no sound in the cavern except Cozy Glow’s attempts to unlock her cage. Then, with the strain of great effort, she continued: “…it could have ended right there.”
Spy said nothing.
“Tirek had gotten most of my magic. He probably wouldn’t have cared if I escaped at that point, and I had every reason in the world to walk away. I couldn’t possibly stop Tirek physically, so nobody would blame me for not trying. My parents couldn’t do anything to make me stay, and once he dropped them they’d never be able to do anything to me ever again. They had stolen my entire life from me, and now it was finally mine to take back.”
There was a loud snap as her efforts finally bore fruit. The padlock fell open, still dangling from the cage door. She stared at it, unseeing.
“I was free.”
“Stop!” the filly cried, the last shreds of her love for her parents driving her to attempt to pull Tirek’s arms away from the hole. It was like pulling at steel. “You can’t just drop them!”
He chuckled loudly. “Oh, I think I can!”
“You’ve got all our magic! That’s what you wanted, right? Just let them go!”
The centaur peered at her. “Oh, come now. This has to be cathartic. They were willing to sacrifice you!”
“I know,” she said miserably. “But I just wanted to get away from them! That doesn’t mean I wanted them d-dead!”
“Well, I do.” He began to pull his hands apart.
“No, please! I’m begging you!”
And, miraculously… Tirek stopped. He leaned forward to take a good look at the filly, his head tilting to the side curiously. Twin blazes of yellow floating in pitch blackness regarded her for what felt like an eternity… then, most disturbingly, his mouth stretched into a toothy grin, and he began to laugh.
He could gobble me up in one bite, the filly thought. It wasn’t a particularly helpful thought, but it was all she could manage at the moment.
“Very well,” he said finally, and leaned back. “Let’s make a deal, little filly.”
“A… a deal?”
“That’s right. If you can honestly tell me that you think your parents deserve to be spared… then I’ll let them go.”
Hope dawned. “Really?”
He nodded. “You have my word.”
“Then-“
“But first,” he interrupted with malicious glee, “I want you to talk to them.”
“…what?”
“Talk to them. Look them in the eye. Remember what they tried to do to you. See them for what they are. And then tell me they’re worthy of my mercy.”
She stared at him, then at them. Despite everything they’d done, she knew deep in her heart that ending their lives wouldn’t accomplish anything. But there were new feelings, deeper even than that, that were willing to give it a shot. She pushed them down for now and looked up at the centaur. “…why?”
Tirek chuckled. “Because either I am rid of them, or they will have to live the rest of their miserable lives tormented by the knowledge that they were spared by the grace of the child they were eager to sacrifice for their own gain. I rather like that idea.” He turned over one hand and placed the ball in his palm. The pegasi became very still, for fear of rolling out of his grasp. “Or I can just drop them now, if you prefer.”
“N-no!” She swallowed nervously and approached them. They looked so pitiful now, their colors washed out and their hides sullied by cloudstuff and fixative. Their gazes toward her were desperate and pleading, but she remembered all the condescending glares and fake smiles. They couldn’t be trusted, even now.
Let them drop, a little voice crooned. She pushed down harder.
She stared at the pegasi, trying to find the words to describe how she was feeling at the moment...
"Come on, pumpkin, just tell the nice centaur to let us go, and this will all be over..."
"Yes, hurry up, child! Before his arm gets tired!"
...but then, they'd never cared about what she had to say, now had they?
The filly scowled. Wheedling and commanding, just like always. "Shut up! Both of you! Let me think!"
They gasped. "How dare you use that tone-" the mare began
She was starting to realize how truly stupid they were. "I said shut up! Or I'll tell him to drop you right now!" They finally fell silent, and she glared. "Honestly! You two just don't know how to give an inch, do you? I'm calling the shots now, not you!"
They returned her glare, as well as they could.
She let them think about that for a long moment. "...all this time," she said finally, "I never mattered to you, did I? I was just something to save you money, because that's all you ever cared about."
And then came the pleading and negotiations. "We can change! We'll do better from now on!"
"We'll give you everything you want, pumpkin! Fewer chores! More..." He faltered. "Uh... more time at the park! More..."
"Oatmeal!" his wife added.
"Yes! All the oatmeal you want!"
"Well. Within reason."
"Oh, right, obviously."
"And not too much syrup."
"Of course."
She stared at them. "Really? Oatmeal? That's the best you can do?" She shook her head. "You honestly don't know the first thing about me, do you? Do you even know what I do in the park?"
The stallion blinked, confronted with an issue he had never considered. "I mean... frolic? I guess?"
"Hah! See? When's my birthday?"
"Oh, I'm... sure it must be coming up soon," the mare said, "we'll have to make sure you get-"
"It was last week! Oh my gosh! You two really don't know anything about me, do you?! I bet you don't even know-"
She stopped, her mind turning over the idea. No... no, they couldn't possibly be that disinterested in her... right? Surely not. Not to that degree. And yet... now that she thought about it... she couldn't recall a single time they'd said it. They must have done so at least once, but how many years had it been since then?
The filly floated closer to them, looked them in the eyes, remembered what they did, saw them for what they were. "...what's my name?"
Their mouths dropped open.
"W-what kind of question is that?" the stallion asked nervously. "Of course we know your name!"
"Say it, then."
Silence was her only response.
"All I can ever remember hearing from you two has been 'pumpkin' or 'child' or 'girl'. You gave me this name! I hate it, but you gave it to me! Do you even remember what it is?! Do I really matter that little to you?!" She pointed at the gaping hole beneath them. "You never forgot that rock's name! What about me, your daughter?! Am I worth less than an object to you? WHAT IS MY NAME?!"
They shouted, then, babbling their best guesses. None of it ever came close.
All of the filly's control over her darker feelings burned away. "I thought so." She landed in the entrance hall, turned, and walked toward the setting sun.
Then she paused briefly and said "Drop them."
When a foal is named, what is given is often the hopes of the parents, what they wish their child will become in the future. In the filly's case, it was more what her parents wanted her to be for them, though they gave it practically no thought or consideration when they did.
Golden Ticket died that day, even as her parents fell screaming to the ground thousands of feet below amid Tirek's laughter. She'd need a new name, but that could wait. She just needed to get away from here, from the ruins of the home that had never been a home.
There was a light, and a tingling sensation on her flanks. She turned her head, and wasn't much surprised to see a rook appear there. She thought of the game she'd played just two or three hours ago, back when she didn't know anything at all. The rook was the unexpected move, a symbol of her ability to predict, to plan, to manipulate, to win.
To betray.
Her parents were dead. Her home was gone. Her life was ruined.
And all she cared about at the moment was getting some new ribbons, for when her hair grew back.
SNAP!
The padlock closed with a loud noise, much more solid and final than when it had opened. Cozy Glow pulled out the key, held it in her mouth... then with a flip of her head, sent it sailing into the chasm surrounding the plateau, never to be seen again.
Spy watched her, speechless.
She turned away from him, staring at the distant cavern wall. "...you were right about one thing, Spy," she said finally. "I'm not a villain. I'm a monster. I'm a heartless, empty creature who couldn't even feel even the slightest regret for killing her own parents. And I still don't! Do you think I deserve friendship? Do I deserve redemption?! What I deserve is to be in here safely away from everypony else!"
She sniffled and rubbed at her face, then turned toward him, her expression fierce. "But the world decided my fate for me. And if I was supposed to be a monster, I'd be the best monster I could be. I was going to take back all of the opportunities in the world that my parents had taken from me.
"But the powers that defeated Tirek at his best wouldn't have any trouble with me. So I wrote him a letter, reminded him of all the fun times we'd had, and he told me how to make sure nopony could ever get in my way again. And it almost worked! But it didn't, and I knew the Princesses would never let me try again. So I needed to be put in the place where the monsters belong."
Then her expression softened. "And then you came along. And I thought maybe monsters sometimes got a second chance. You're a bit of a monster yourself." She frowned. "But you had to ruin it. You're just like everypony else. You just don't understand."
"Miss Glow..."
She turned away again. "Good night, Spy. I hope Twilight can get you back home."
Cozy Glow refused to respond to anything else he said, so he settled down and thought very hard for the next few hours.
And just below, unnoticed, a set of slow but angry hoofsteps descended from the top of the stairway, heading for the entrance.
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ohh the reveal that cozy wasnt her og name was great
This was worth every MINUTE of the wait.
Honestly the parents were just looking for it, but i understand why Cozy would still have conflicted fellings about it.
…….their souls are now in the domain of chaos undivided and I will most certainly enjoy hearing them scream as they are RIPPED ASUNDER!!! PRAISE THE CHANGER OF WAYS! GLORY TO KHORNE!!!
Tempest is really seeing herself in this filly.
Now there no more holding back death for plans
You are not a monster for doing that Cozy, you didn't feel bad about it is because they were the monsters.
This chapter was worth the long wait.
HOLY
FLUFFYING
SCHMIZZ!
The last two chapters already cemented Cozy's birth-givers as absolute monsters, but holy hay, mate.
This is messed up beyond belief.
Great chapter, and hoo bo! Despite usually trying to see the good in people, and being all for second chances, I was glad Cozy let them fall.
Unfortunately, a child abused by their parents, those who should have been their most ardent supporter, protector and benefactor; rarely if ever takes vengeance against those who so deeply wronged them. Instead others suffer in the their stead: strangers and the child.
I guess I just had my suspension of disbelief broken in this chapter.
Anyway I am thoroughly enjoying the story, it is just this saccharine and deceptive act(the child confronting and defeating the abusive parents) to be distasteful.
Oh my... how terrible! But... such a great backstory! It's sooo great to read this!
11652912
That's a fair point.
Damn your Cozy has quite the amazing little backstory to explain her behavior and antics...fuck those abusive `parents`
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To whom goes their blood? Khorne.
To whom go their corpses? Nurgle.
To whom go their souls? Tzeentch.
To whom go their screams? Slaanesh.
Any timetable for when the next chapter comes out?
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"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth"
That was pretty darn epic!
So the medicine wasn't technically to directly harm her, but it was definitely always meant to be a backup plan (not necessarily Tirek specific due to how long they were doing it). Suppose it would also explain why she effectively had good control over her magic under the enhancement of Grogar's bell, she low-key already felt what it was like and could adapt to it quickly.
So this is when she snapped. Someone needs all the warm hugs! Send in the cuddle bugs!
Is this how she got her cutie mark by checkmate her parents
Delish. That last chapter reads almost like it belongs in canon
Wow. If I had doubts before, now I am sure that there are no worse parents in the MLP universe than these two. Compared to them, even Chrysalis is starting to look a little better.
Amazing chapter! I'm the type of guy who would go for a villain redemption or more merciful option whenever possible, but you successfully managed to make a pair of characters so vile that not even I was sad for Cozy letting them fall. Great work on that.
I may be looking into this a bit too much, but I wonder if Tirek partially gave Cozy that choice with them was because of his own experience with getting betrayed by his brother. Either way, it will be fun to see how everyone reacts to this backstory now that this backstory will spread due to that pony leaving.
What costume? I am now curious.
I'm gonna guess that was Tempest, about to demand the princesses to do something else with Cozy. It could also be Twilight though since she was on her way to Tartarus. I do wonder if she knows about Cozy's incarceration there now that I think about it.
Can't wait for more!
Great chapter
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Discworld reference. Quasi-literate rendition of "ain't".
They absolutely deserved it
The amount of therapy Cozy needs gets upgraded with every single chapter. Because damn... you can definitly see why she thinks the way she does now.
Holy shit, what a plot twist! I LOVE IT!!!
Great Aunt Petunia’s Fruit Bread! This got so dark… I think I need a Flashlight. Something to give me a… Cozy Glow.
Ehhh?
…
…Anyway, loving the story! Having never played TF2, I can’t wait to see what comes next in the story.
Eyyyyyy fuck them parents.
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Wouldn't they wind up the realm of Slaanesh? Or Tzeentch?
I guess if their Soiree resulted in deaths then maybe?
Oh, wow. That was.. Horrific. Some of the best writing in this story which has already set an immensely high bar for everything else.
Well, god damn, I don't blame Cozy for going on her villain arc now because yikes. Not even shocked she killed her parents. Those weren't even parents at that point.
Well… shit
I don’t know what’s worse everything that happened in the last 3 chapters (especially this last one)
Or the fact that she was just a day away from somepony actually caring about her
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They would be cast into The Maw in my opinion, where all damned and evil souls from across the mortal plane all wind up in, forever denied the Elysian fields of Bastion, the valleys of battle in Maldraxxus, definitely no place in the eternal forests of Ardenweald, and narrowly missing their last chance at the gates of Revendreth where the most arrogant and prideful of souls are sent.
Well then...
That was one of the best origin stories I have ever heard.
If I could be bothered to think about the abysmal writing that permeated the majority of the last four seasons of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, I'd be furious given the quality of writing I can find here on this website, in this story.
Update When?
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My dude. Take a look at the publish dates for each of the chapters to get an idea of how super consistent my writing patterns are. It'll happen when it happens.
Excellent. Marvelous. I'm definitely excited to see more of this.
Feathering GOLDEN GLOW is just a BEAUTIFUL masterpiece of a backstory, I just--
I can't even--!
This is so good!
Damn, Cozy needs a hug.
The last chapter was a while ago, i really hope this continues. It simply is an amazingly well written and engaging story.
This fanfic is simply amazing! Is it worth counting on a new chapter as a Christmas/New Year gift? Well, or is it worth counting on a continuation at all?