Throne of the Rot Queen

by Mystic Mind

Chapter 4

Gilda ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, charging through corridor after corridor until her muscles burned from exhaustion. When she finally came to a screeching halt, it was to avoid running face-first into a dead end.

“Miss Gilda?!” Gwendoline asked, her voice strained as if she’d been shouting – though Gilda hadn’t heard a word. “Please, talk to me! What’s going on?”

“Uh…” Gilda blanked. Why had she run so suddenly? Something must have spooked her good, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what it was. “I… thought I saw your filly friend run past. That little dweeb must’ve heard us coming. I almost had her, but I guess I took a wrong turn at the last second.”

The young chub studied Gilda for a moment, her brow creased. It wouldn’t have surprised Gilda if she saw right through her blatant lie; it was the best she could come up with on the spot. She only hoped the plea to Gwendoline’s motivations would be convincing enough to let her off the hook.

“Okay,” Gwendoline said with a defeated sigh. “I didn’t see her at all, but if you did, I guess she can’t have gotten far.”

Gilda wiped the sweat from her brow. She’d always considered herself an honest griffon – brutally so – but sometimes, a lie was the best way to defuse an awkward situation. Besides, she hadn’t lied in the truest sense of the word; she genuinely couldn’t remember what had scared her. She also knew how dangerous it was to crush a child’s dream in this situation.

Now that she had that out of the way, she noticed something different about her current location. The tunnel’s bare rock wasn’t lined with stone tiles like the crypt before, leaving no room for hanging torches. Yet the area was dimly lit regardless, bathed in a soft, blue light that emanated from nowhere in particular.

Gilda squinted her eyes, trying to identify the glow’s source. It had to be some bioluminescent moss or fungus, hidden away in the crevices. She’d had more than enough mysteries for one day, and she was determined to squeeze some answers out one way or another.

“I don’t think she’ll fit in there.”

Gilda snapped around, glaring down at Gwendoline. “Don’t take that tone with me, kid.”

Gwendoline recoiled. “But I didn’t say anything!”

Gilda didn’t break eye contact. Even when caught, kids rarely admitted to their wrongdoings, but she expected to see some level of shame from the chub’s expression. Except… there was none. She met her gaze in equal measure, her cheeks displaying not the slightest amount of red. In fact, her upper beak was quivering.

Was she afraid of her?

Gilda shook her head, dismissing the idea with a harrumph. Old or young, any griffon could mask their emotions if they knew how. If this kid wanted her help, she’d better start treating her with some respect. She needed to learn that all relationships were a give and take; there was no point cooperating with the uncooperative. That would be the first thing Twilight would teach her at the Friendship School, so she’d better internalise it now instead of facing potential consequences later.

“Let’s get going,” Gilda said, turning her back to Gwendoline. “After a run like that, Honey Twist can’t have gotten far.”

To Gilda’s relief, the last fork they’d passed wasn’t far, taking no more than a minute or two to reach. She would’ve wondered why that dead end was there to begin with, but those questions could come later. She needed to focus on the task at hand, lest her head start drowning her in unanswered queries. Whoever built this place was irrelevant. All that mattered was finding the stupid child who thought dusty old ruins were the perfect playground.

Taking the next passage down, Gilda felt a small sense of relief at the sight of more skulls lining the tunnel walls. Creepy as they were, they served as a landmark, indicating this path as part of the crypts. There had to be a way out eventually.

The two griffons walked together in silence, trying not to make excess noise and risk spooking the child they’d come to find – if she existed at all.

Gilda wanted to believe Honey Twist was real. She wanted to believe that, for all their faults, this new generation of kids would grow up to be better than the previous ones. She needed to believe that all of Twilight’s efforts in saving Equestria, time and time again, were worth something.
The tunnel wound on, turning this way and that, but still no filly revealed herself. Gilda hoped that she hadn’t been caught in a loop like in the first room, as here there were fewer distinctions to make such a trap obvious. Morbid as they were, all these skulls looked the same, save for the occasional pony or yak skull from long before her time.

Then, suddenly, GIlda stopped, with Gwendoline nearly crashing into her.

“Miss Gilda? What’s–” she asked, but was quickly shushed.

Gilda cocked her head. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear… what?”

It was hard to pinpoint, but ever since they’d started down this tunnel of skulls, a noise had grown gradually louder. It was hard to describe, but it was something akin to crinkling gravel beneath hooves and talons scraping against stone. It couldn’t have been caused by either of them, as otherwise, she would’ve noticed it the moment she started walking.

“Are you making that noise?” Gilda asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gwendoline replied, shrugging. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. How can you not hear this? Y’know what? Let’s move on. I’m sure you’ll hear it then.”

As Gilda predicted, the sound did indeed grow louder the further down they went, yet she could still find no source for it. This was starting to get on her nerves. If it wasn’t Gwendoline pranking her, then maybe it was this mysterious friend of hers?

I swear, when I get my talons on that little brat…
Gilda sucked in a sharp breath, holding it until she felt her heart rate slow. Where the heck did that thought come from? She’d been a rude, pushy bully before, but never had she even considered physically hurting someone, much less a child.

“Stupid griffon.”
Gilda snapped her head to the right. Someone had just whispered in her ear, but Gwendoline was standing to her left.

“Stupid griffon,” the voice said again. All at once, the skulls changed, their jaws draping open as their eyes lit up with a sickly green glow. This had to be an illusion. There was no way the skulls could be laughing at her. “Always the same. You don’t get it, do you? Stupid, stupid. Haha, haha, haha.”
Gilda’s eye twitched. Who did this voice think they were? They didn’t know her. They didn’t know how much she’d changed.

“Haha, haha. You? Changed? That’s rich. Nothing ever changes, least of all, you. Haha, haha.”
“Shut up.”

“Some friend you are. Haha, haha.”
“I said, shut up!”

“Haha, haha, haha!”
Rearing up on her hind legs, Gilda slammed her fist into one of the skulls, shattering it on impact. “Will you be quiet?!” she bellowed at the top of her lungs – only to realise who she had bellowed at.

Gwendoline was backing away from her, quivering and on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but I’m sorry. I’m not trying to prank you, I swear.”

Gilda straightened her posture, closing her eyes for a minute. She had to regain some form of composure, lest she scare away the very child she’d come here to help. Holding her talon to her chest, she took a moment to focus on the breathing exercise Twilight taught her.

“Look, Gwendoline, I’m sorry,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “I’ll be honest, this place is giving me the creeps. I didn’t get much sleep last night, so I’m crankier than usual. But that doesn’t mean I should be taking it out on you.”

“Maybe… this was a mistake,” Gwendoline said hesitantly. “Maybe Honey Twist already found her way out. She is a clever filly, after all.”

“I can’t answer that.” Gilda reached out with her talon, gently placing it on Gwendoline’s shoulder. The chub clinched, but stood firm. “Maybe we’ll find her, maybe we won’t. But I said I’d help you, so that’s what I’m gonna do. We’re gonna see this through to the end, one way or another. That’s a promise.”

For a brief moment, Gilda saw a spark light up behind Gwendoline’s eyes, her mouth twitching a tiny smile. “Pinkie Promise?”

Ugh, the things I do for friendship, Gilda groaned internally. She hated this dorky rhyme. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

Gwendoline chuckled and swayed side to side a little. Considering everything that had happened, she considered that a small victory in and of itself.

Comments

[Easysnuggler]

Something is screwing with gilda.