A Home Under the Moon

by Ciivam

…Or Was it a Tragic Night?

A Home Under the Moon

Chapter 2: …Or Was it a Tragic Night?

“Hear ye, hear ye! By order of Lady Sun, Princess Celestia herself, all Born of Night shouldst be searched and separated by morn of next, lest they shalt bring about harm to thy friends and or family!

“‘Tis with but a heavy heart I must say, the Princess of the Night hast been banished, for treason! We wouldst hath never thought this day wouldst cometh. And, of honor of thy fallen princess, a statue shalt be erected in thou market! Carved of moonstone and sliver!

“Hie! For thou have yet the eve before the morrow!”

Novus, along with those beside her, stood, frozen in the true shock of the spokestallion. While others started their move to their own homes, it took her father’s presence to shake Novus free.

“Art thou well, daughter?” he asked. Novus turned to him, his own purple eyes showing of shock and concern, not just toward the princesses.

“‘Tis true? What says he?” Novus asked, hoping against hope that her father would not leave her. Especially with her mother as she is.

“I do not know.” With that, he started down the path and up to their own home, Novus following behind.

She noticed a heavy melancholy about the town. Ponies of all kinds, mainly of thestrals and pegasi, walked in sadness and deeper despair. For many, their princess, one whom promised protection for all under her night, had just been banished, possibly never to be seen again.

She could not that she felt the same way. Her mother had spoken of great things in regards of Mistress Moon. Often speaking as if she knew her as a friend. And now, friend or not, their guardian was gone.

There was something else about the town. Some guards were knocking on doorframes or speaking to ponies outside market stalls and abodes. One family held two thestrals, one a stallion and another was yet just a filly, with a single earth pony mare. The mare was being led away from the home, while father and daughter were held back by another guard, stopping them from chasing after her.

T’was true, then.

Coming up to the door of their home, the two quickly gathered inside, hoping to spend as much time they could before any of the guard showed up. Novus set about her and her father’s own late meal while he left over to check her mother.

Picking out another two wooden bowls with her magic, Novus lifted the lid to the broth, letting a billow of steam rise from the still-heated water. She scooped out two helpings worth of bowls and set to cool as she kicked in dirt, smothering the flame under the pot. After setting the lid back atop the pot to set aside, her father had appeared beside her and wrapped his hooves around her in a sidelong embrace.

The two sat, watching the empty fire pit, waiting upon their meals to cool. All the house was quiet, beside her mother’s quiet heaving, not even the birds sang their songs. Yet, even if she did enjoy a peaceful eve, this was one day she wished upon something to distract her.

Happy with the state of the broth, her father brought the bowl up to his lips to drink, Novus following suit, also happy, but for a different reason.

While still quite hot, the flavours of the added vegetables and herbs struck her tastebuds. While it was like many others she made, the flavours brought a little more life to her. But it would not last.

A series of strikes upon their doorframe broke them from their meal, where they both turned towards the sound and placed down their bowls. After the next few strikes rang, her father stood to make his way over, yet trepidation defined his trot.

As he opened the door, Novus could make out two guards standing there, under the frame. While she knew her father worked the forge and had some personal training herself, and he crafted a majority of the guards' magical armor and weapons, recent events told her they were not here for the smithy. But she could still hope.

“Good eve, sir,” one of the guards greeted. Her father simply nodded in response, stepping aside to allow the two iron-clad guards into the home.

“What brings thy presence to mine smith? I hath naught a call for stock in recent. In other, wouldst thou accept broth for thy stay?” he asked as the two made it inside and looked over their home.

“Nay. We hath no time to linger.” The lead guard then looked towards Novus, who then grew nervous the more she was observed. “‘Tis yours, nay? Born of blood?”

Briefly looking back to her, Novus’ father hesitated before he answered of all honesty. “Aye. She be mine daughter. But hath mercy on us, for she is but a filly! And mine wife lies sick! We fear she hast naught the winter.” He ended, pleading upon his knees.

The guard turned his head to him, his face stone cold and emotionless. But what he spoke had the lingering trace of sympathy. “Whilst we may be lenient, ‘tis but the princesses orders. And we must obey. For ye saw her wrath, didst thou not?”

He turned to the doorway, not moving but silently grieving their misfortune. “Thou best cometh peacefully. We wouldst not cause ye harm.”

Once more did daughter and father look at each other, this time holding their gaze. Novus could see the look of worry on her father's face as her own pleaded against him.

He turned away, leaving his head to hang down as he focused on the floor. When he looked back up, it was resolute. “Didst thou wish upon me to pack?”

“Nay. We hath supplied all thine needs, and all, to pure up north. Hie, for ye art yet the last.” After all was said and done, the guard started walking out through the door. Looking back at her one last time, her father left the house, for what might be the last time.

While the second guard had not said a thing the entire, Novus saw a strange look in his eyes as he stared at her. Something halfway between contempt and fear. But he left before anything more could be done.

Something really was not right. If only she could find out.

And then came the coughing.

They were horrible, like grinding gravel against flint. The wild coughs were short and were sometimes accompanied by wheezing. Worst of all, they could only come from one other pony.

Picking up her father’s abandoned bowl in a magic field, she rushed up to cornered off space they had used for bedding and kneeled down beside her mother. When she had finished coughing, Novus held the bowl closer to her mouth and began to speak.

“Mother, thou shouldst hath this broth. T’will heal thy throat,” she urged, but her mother didn’t move. “Mother?” She shook her slightly, “Mother!”

At this point, Novus would have assumed the worst, but the one thing keeping from that was the fact her chest was still moving. Maybe she was just asleep. But just then, her eyes slowly opened.

“Novus…” Her voice, weak, and her breaths came in labored. Yet she still held a bit of fire in her eyes. She was always a fighter, it seemed. “Novus… what hast happened…”

Once again, Novus found herself hesitating. She did not want to tell her about Lady Sun’s official order against all, of thestral blood. But she couldn’t lie, nor could she ignore her mother. She decided the next words she spoke would be honest ones.

“Lady Sun hast ordered on a separation ‘tween thestral and pony. And Mistress Moon hast indeed been banished. Father. They hath taking him up North Semper,” she said, as a look of sad, forlornness took over her face.

“Art thou… art thou not unicorn, thyself?” her mother asked, that small fire still dancing in her eyes.

“Aye, mother. But t’wouldst seem they hath left all whom hast shared in thestral blood. Mother, what shalt we do?”

“‘Tis… ‘tis not what we shalt do… but what thou can… what thou can do.” Her mother spoke, seeming to get weaker and weaker as she kept going.

She then took notice of the floating bowl in front of her, in her daughter’s magenta glow, and weakly pushed it to the side. She closed her eyes, letting out a heavy breath before they opened again. Novus stared back. “For the morn, on the morrow… Good night…” And with that, her mother fell to slumber.

The sun had yet to go down, so Novus took it upon herself to take the broth her mother refused to drink and return it to the pot. She then grabbed her own bowl and sat in the longest silence she ever did have. Not that it was welcomed.

The flavours of the broth still help to light some of her mood, yet it was long before the bowl had lost its contents. By then, the sun had just started setting, and darkness lit the sky.

Looking out the window, Novus saw the sight that had caused so much misery in just one day. Yet who was to blame? Princess Luna, for her treason? Princess Celestia, for the banishment, and this new law? Or herself, for not standing up and trying to stop her father’s departure, even if it was inevitable?

Standing up, she took the two empty bowls over to a table, before she took off her cloak, setting it up and next to the door. By the time all the moon, and her stars, were visible, Novus and settled in her bed, some ways off from mother’s.

Closing her eyes, she had hoped she would wake to a better day.

When she did, she had found, her mother hadn’t.

Comments

[Crescent Nebula]

Gotta say I’m loving this so far