Dinky Doo: The Scion of Wind

by eclair_de_xii

Epilogue

The mirror rippled like a pond and shimmered like a parade of water in sunlight.

Twilight had just left.

Ditzy had not.

A periwinkle foal, newly born, was locked in an embrace with a tired, but happy grey mare. This time, that foal took no notice of a tired face hidden beyond the glass of a bedside window.

On the other side, the tired mare sighed. She was sitting in a land of swirly hills and a Sundial, which had returned to its original form: a giant sundial carved of stone. What had motivated its initial transformation into the wondrous tree-like structure from the last time she was here, she was unlikely to find out. She had tried once more, to decipher the alicorn script upon the face of the Sundial, but to little avail. There had been a moment when she thought she was on the verge of gleaning a modicum of meaning from it, at last, after moons of exerting herself. But she shook her head; her eyes were just playing tricks on her again.

As Princess Luna had said, some things in this world were probably better left unknown.

Ditzy's dad was long gone.

Ditzy herself felt like she was soon to follow in his footsteps.

"Still here, are you, Miss Doo?"

"Starswirl," Ditzy droned without any enthusiasm whatsoever; she was tracing the ground again.

"Please. You may spare me the formalities."

"Ha. Ha. …"

Starswirl hummed. "I am concerned."

"Oh, spare me your swirly and bearded pity, Great One."

Lately, Ditzy found herself emulating Dinky's snark.

"The portal is closing, Miss Doo," Starswirl said.

"Really?" Ditzy said half-sarcastically before dropping the tone entirely. "Why would it be closing?"

The lines beneath Starswirl's eyes folded upon each other.

"It seems that an effusion of energy from your world has left this entryway unstable," he said, gesturing to the mirror; on its surface was a world of tall buildings, creatures that walked exclusively on their hindlegs, and a few familiar faces. But the image twisted and stretched, with neither hoof nor magic having been exerted upon it. "Now, there is no telling how long this nexus will stay intact for. I fear for what should become of you if you do not hurry back, Miss Doo."

Ditzy smirked. "Is it wrong to say that I don't?"

Starswirl did not share her humor. He raised his head again, to let his eyes scrutinize the tired adventuress; it was as though he could see right past the smirk, a mask for her confused blend of feelings.

"The choice is yours, Miss Doo," he finally said. "I stay here for my own longevity. You may do so if you wish, consumed by your obsession with the curse that took your father's life. Or perhaps you wish to flee from the graces of love and life? Time is so oft overlooked and taken for granted. Here, one may squander it away; there…" He activated his horn; the colors on the mirror shifted to the shape and color of a certain party mare's bedroom. "There," he continued, "one is fortunate to have no such luxury. Eternity is but a word here; I can almost remember when it still held meaning." He paused, lost in his recollections; they were probably distant, faded, and meaningless by now.

He shook them off like they were gnats that begged his attention.

"You remember," he continued, "what I told you about the mirror and the curse it holds?"

"Vaguely, yeah," Ditzy said, scratching the side of her head.

"The Sundial is hardly better, Miss Doo. Some things in this world are better left to the imagination. Of greater importance is the world that lies waiting for you. Personally, I envy you. A life that can be counted is more preferable to an eternity spent in madness and aimless contemplation, I should think."

Starswirl strode past her, then paused. "Forces are at work in this realm, Miss Doo, strange forces. They exist for your protection. Curiosity has called you to this place, this much cannot be denied. But surely, you have heard of what happened to the cat once curiosity got the better of it?"

Ditzy laughed. "Where I come from, they say it more succinctly."

"Then perhaps you ought to not follow in the pawprints of the proverbial cat, Miss Doo. One day, you may find yourself indulged so deep within your rabbit hole that you may never wake up."

Ditzy was staring at his serious eyes.

On that ominous note, Starswirl strode on for perhaps the last time. "Fare thee well."

Watching him disappear into the dark of the woods again, Ditzy sighed.

It was just her and the mirror again.

Beyond it, no party was going on.

There was only utter silence, save for the whistling trees around her. Something was on the verge of pouncing upon her; her fur was prickling with that feeling of urgency, the urgency to leave. But for some reason, she could not help but remain rooted to the strange cream-colored grass.

Dinky's words from that fateful day hadn't stopped echoing inside her head ever since she stepped hoof in the Wabe.

'What kind of sister and mom are you… Ditzy Doo!'

---

After the defeat of Daybreaker, the seasons were restored to their natural order.

As it transpired, it had technically been winter during the second Summer Sun Celebration of the year.

Now, it was snowing.

A lot.

The Cloudsdale weather factory had built up a surplus of winter things, which were now being used in earnest. Grey frigid clouds blocked out the sky; minute specks of sleet were being blown constantly.

Only when over a month's supply of snow had been layered thickly enough to prevent anypony exiting their cottage did the residents of Ponyville roar in protest.

The snow was thinned, and the sleet was in the process of being toned down.

The drastic change in weather was of great surprise to all in Ponyville.

It had been a very hot summer for the past month or so.

Hearthswarming was coming up.

Dinky Doo was a unicorn filly who was soon to depart a small town called Ponyville. She was a much older foal now. Each of her ears stood straight up and alert, all the better to listen to anything that would disrupt the silence of the train station.

Her aunt Daring was playing guardian for her again.

Putting a consoling hoof on Dinky's shoulder, Daring scanned around. The coat of the mare she was waiting for would blend in a bit too well with the pale color of the cloud-crowded skies; it was more out of wishful thinking, really, that her efforts were exerted.

Still no sign of her.

Daring huffed a breath that turned into crystalline mist that sparkled in the dimmed sun. She hugged herself, shivering; she had insisted to her niece that she always be dressed in her adventuress's gear. Her niece, on the other hoof, had had the mind to dress for the weather.

Earmuffs muffled Dinky's drooped ears. A woolly grey sweater was layered tight over her chest; the flanks of the sweater had curious grass-green patterns, a detail that Rarity had been sure to incorporate into the design after Sweetie Belle told her about it.

Standing on the platform were aunt and niece, and they were facing the snow-sprinkled tracks.

Nor were they the only ones.

The Crusaders were seeing Dinky off. The sisters of the Crusaders were acting as their chaperones. After the Haissan incident, the older sisters seemed more protective of their charges, a thought that Dinky did not want to dwell on too much.

On Daring's left were Rarity and Sweetie Belle; the latter tried to peer around her sister's legs to meet Dinky's eyes. Applebloom and Scootaloo were doing the same, more or less. But Dinky wasn't in much of a mood to so much as look them in the eye, not after all she had put them through.

Applejack kept a close eye on Applebloom; she also kept a tight foreleg around her neck. Scootaloo and Rarity followed in her example. Dash and Scootaloo didn't need to visor their eyes to watch the horizon for signs of a horn, a toot, or a puff of smoke.

Prodding a small mound of snow, Dinky resumed listening for any signs of her.

None came.

According to the clock on the window of the ticket vendor, it was only ten 'til. She wished time would slow down.

Dinky sighed, and climbed down the ticket table. "Aunt Daring, where is she?" she said, walking back.

Once she was back at Daring's side, Daring knelt to pull Dinky closer to herself — partly out of a desire for warmth. "She'll be along, kid," she said.

She almost kissed the side of her head, but stopped herself; that was something only Ditzy and Dinky did.

And Daring sure wasn't Ditzy.

The more Dinky wanted time to slow down, the more it seemed to speed up. Dinky was tapping the station platform anxiously, moaning all the while.

Glancing at Dinky, Applejack scoffed before shaking her head; Daring threw a glare her way.

Every second was precious, so why was she not here to savor any of them?

Too soon it came: the familiar twin toot. In different weather, it would have been muffled only by distance, and not by the veils of sleet.

A shadow blemished the white murky canvas that overlooked the horizon.

"I see it, I see it!" Dash and Scootaloo said, pointing; the former was carrying the latter on her shoulders.

Snow parted in arcs along the tracks as the Friendship Express rode into view. The train's normally vibrant colors were subdued in the current weather. Its windshield wipers were on. Heaving a mechanical exhale, a giant puff of smoke from its rooftop exhaust pipe, it screeched to a halt. The train emanated heat and warmth, and therefore succor in the cold.

It was time.

Daring and Dinky sighed: She had not shown up.

The Crusaders and their sisters moaned their sympathy.

The doors unfolded open. Nopony was inside except for the conductor, who cried tactlessly for all the station to hear — even though only one pony would be boarding — "All aboard! All aboard the Friendship Express!"

Dinky glanced at her friends, then turned away; she didn't feel like saying goodbye again. Her bags floated upward, sucked into grass-green levitation clouds. She had packed light and scarce, to make her stay the least comfortable as possible. They bobbed behind her as she scurried towards the train's back entrance. She was acting as though nopony would notice her; it was really the sentiment of the gesture. She lifted a hoof to step upon the warmed steel of the train cabin, the first step in the beginning of a whole new chapter in her life.

But she did not make that step.

She had appeared, seemingly out of thin air.

She was standing near the conductor's cabin. She had made no effort to strip off the explorer's vest. Her golden hair was in more disarray than usual. Paralyzing Dinky, rooting her to that same spot, were a pair of eyes, exactly the same shade and hue of gold as hers.

Time stopped.

A frigid wind was blowing behind Dinky Doo; her bangs were hovering on the side of her face, while the sideburns on Ditzy Doo were trailing weightlessly behind her.

Dinky was staring curiously at Ditzy and her trembling lips, a silent plead in her eye.

The Crusaders, their sisters, and Daring Do were looking between the two, anxious.

The winds ceased their blow.

So much had happened lately.

Mother and daughter had grown so far apart now.

Both were at a loss for words.

Shaking off a tear, Dinky galloped.

They embraced. Love radiated throughout their bodies. Dinky had her forelegs wrapped around Ditzy's neck, and Ditzy had hers wrapped over Dinky's flank to press her body closer. Nothing else but Dinky and Ditzy seemed to exist. Memories surged throughout Dinky, of being taken on disastrous piggy-back rides, of being caught naked in the shower, and of all the other little things that she never seemed to appreciate until then. Dinky hugged her tighter; she would miss all of it more than ever. Most of all, she would miss her mommy, Ditzy Doo.

Somehow, after an eternity, they parted.

"You've grown so much, my little muffin," Ditzy said, playing with one of Dinky's bangs.

Pulling a bang out of her eye, Dinky gave a toothy chuckle; one of her teeth was missing.

"Sorry I haven't been the best mommy lately, Dinky," Ditzy said, stroking Dinky's cheek.

Prising her hoof off, Dinky snorted a smile. "Don't talk stupid! You're the best mommy in the world!"

Dinky found her eyes wandering.

Right beside the duo was a train car that looked a little like a giant brown cupcake with strawberry frosting on top. Windows were bored into the side of the cupcake car. The cupcake top also had a window, and it looked almost big enough for Dinky to squeeze through; she had always wondered what was up there.

"Can I?"

Ditzy looked at where she was pointing, then did a double-take before looking back into her little muffin's eyes. How could she resist that look on her face? Ditzy's expression softened. "Only if you promise to be careful."

Dinky nodded, then climbed onto Ditzy's arched back.

This would be a last time for a while, at least, that she would be able to ride on her mom's back like this. Dinky cherished the ride, no matter how short or boringly vertical it was.

Dinky looked to Ditzy for permission, which was given by a nod. Planting a kiss on Ditzy's cheek, Dinky hopped onto the windowsill; her hooves found purchase onto it on the first try. Her hindlegs wriggled as she squirmed her head in, then her arms, her flank, and then the rest of her body.

It was much warmer in here than Dinky had thought. Soft comfy pieces of hay lay strewn about. The floor was made of plain wooden planks; it was warm beneath her haunches. The compartment was simple and cozy, like the attic of a small cottage that she saw no difficulty renting out one day.

"Any reason why you wanted to sit here?" Ditzy asked, once Dinky finally poked her head back out.

"I wanna see the things that Mommy sees whenever she's on there!" Dinky said, smiling.

Ditzy's lazy eye drooped. "Wishful thinking, Dinky."

"'Wistful thinking'?" said Dinky, wrinkling her snout. "What's that?"

Daring rolled her eyes.

"It's close enough, Dinky," Ditzy said, messing up Dinky's bangs more.

Messing them back into the right shape again, Dinky noticed her own hoof.

Something in her clicked then. Somehow, she felt like it was the thing to do.

Slowly, Dinky raised it.

Ditzy mirrored her.

They were staring curiously at each other, gazes of gold and gold interlocked.

Hooves matched, periwinkle and grey. The former felt like it was bigger the last time Dinky had done this — had she done this? In any case, together, they shared the moment. And that was when they knew.

Hooves parted.

"Goodbye, my little muffin."

"Goodbye… Mom."

Ditzy hovered backwards and started waving.

The train wheezed and whined. With a tentative pause, the cranks gyrated; they were picking up momentum.

Leaning her hoof against the side of the window, Dinky waved.

"Go on, kid," Daring shouted between her hooves. "It's your time to shine, now!"

She christened her words with one of her copyrighted winks.

"We're really gonna miss you," Applebloom said, wiping her face, "and it ain't even fair! We didn't even get a proper goodbye the last time we did this!"

"Aw, come on, Applebloom," Scootaloo chided, "it's not like we're never going to see her again. She's only going to Canterlot; she'll be like a train ride away!"

"But…! B-but…!" Applebloom said, cueing Applejack to pull her tighter.

Meanwhile, Applejack was shaking her head at Dash, who held her hooves out as though confused about what she had done wrong.

"Write to you, soon!" Sweetie Belle said.

Dinky could not find the words for any of them.

Unfortunately, she was relieved of that burden.

She lost sight of her mom.

Curtains of snow and wind were closing, one by one, upon the old chapter of her life. Now, it was out of sight, and the wave of her hoof could no longer be seen by any of them.

So, withdrawing into the warm confines of the attic-like compartment, Dinky dug into her bag.

She had her flute and its case, which her aunt Daring had likely shoved in while she was looking the other way.

She had her sweaters, which were knitted together as a thank-you from Rarity.

She had a bag of apples, courtesy of a family of Ponyville farmers who didn't exactly need to be mentioned by name.

Finally, she had a signed copy of the newest Daring Do book, which was adorned by the signature of not only a world-class adventurer, but an aspiring Wonderbolt and two-time savior of Equestria, just an ordinary mailmare, Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo, who had added as a giant footnote, 'THIS IS FROM ME!'. Dinky smiled.

The brand new volume fell open before her. The smell of a new book wandered into Dinky's nostrils as she lay flat on her belly; she wagged her hindlegs in the air and watched the snowy countryside pass her by. Her eyes explored the layout of the floor, the barely visible dents, the slight cracks, and the slightly smelly stains. Dinky was wondering if her mom had ridden here before she was born. She was already longing for her to tell her all about it.

It wouldn't be until she got to the castle before Dinky finally got started on Daring Do and the Revenge of the Wind.

---

Golden Harvest looked to her left, then to her right.

She had just taken her cart out of a repair shop in Canterlot.

Wherever Golden Harvest looked — and she didn't have to visor her eyes from the midmorning sun to do so — the streets were mostly empty, to her relief. "GANGWAYCOMINGTHROUGHSORRYMISS!!!"

And just like that, her cart was on the verge of falling apart.

Again.

She didn't miss it this time: a blur of orange whom she had learnt to curse in her sleep.

Another whoosh came, unsettling the spoke on her newly repaired forewheel. "Awful sorry 'bout her!"

Golden Harvest snorted like a bull at the youngest of the Apples.

Next, two unicorn fillies dashed around the cart. "Sorry about the cart!" they said over their shoulders. "Again!"

A series of crashes followed this apology; Golden Harvest had winced, afraid to open her eyes again. But just as the sun must set each evening, so too must her eyes open to feast upon what had to be some sick joke or hallucination.

Or at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

To her knees she dropped, over the mess her shaking hooves were hovered yet again. In just a few seconds, her precious cart had been mutilated.

Not that it was of any comfort to her, but the alleyway the fillies had scampered off to was one that the locals never took.

"Gee," Applebloom droned, shaking off the muck of her hoof, "I wonder why."

"Aw, it won't come off!" moaned Scootaloo. "Can't believe I forgot my scooter again!"

"Did you forget which way we're going?"

"Obviously not, Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo said with a roll of her eyes.

She went right.

Applebloom followed.

Nodding at each other, so did Sweetie and Dinky.

Scootaloo swore. "Cart, cart!" she said to Applebloom, looking to her for direction.

Without hesitation, Applebloom gave it.

"Super Special Cutie Maneuver Alpha Double Sigma Delta Beta: Mark Ⅱ. GO!"

Water crashed from behind. Tides of sea and salt sloped up the sidewalls as though to climb it before giving up. The waters clapped together in a crest before Sweetie, before setting their sights for the sliding hooves of Applebloom, who turned around to buck on Scootaloo's hindhooves.

The hooves connected, yellow against orange.

"WOO! I'M FLYING, I'M FLYING! WOO!"

Meanwhile, Applebloom was sliding, sliding and turning, and ducking on the slide of seawater. Then, seeing the bottom of the cart too low for her to slip under, she collapsed herself close to the ground. All her limbs were spread apart from her body, and each of her hooves was spraying foam and salt into the humid air; her belly was coasting along the water. Applebloom aimed her head at the gap beneath the cart.

The closer she got to her target, the smaller it looked; Dinky was holding her breath in suspense.

The big pink bow slicked back before disappearing beyond the cart.

This lit Sweetie's courage; after a nod from Dinky, Sweetie slid on.

She disappeared through the gap seconds before Dinky, who was on the other side.

She took the cue to shoot herself airborne with a huff of breath.

Now that she was airborne, she linked Scootaloo's foreleg within hers, taking her into a spiraling flight that only increased Scootaloo's whooping and awakened Dinky's. They were soaring, filly and filly, the cool breeze against their flanks; they both could see the slope of the mountainside castle-town. They drank in the sight for as long as they could. But nothing lasts forever. Being in a two-filly flight was no exception. Gravity began to push back on Dinky and Scootaloo.

The momentum of the fall was creeping up on them too fast.

They could see the faces of Sweetie Belle and Applebloom, ready to catch Dinky and Scootaloo.

But then midnight blue eclipsed Dinky's vision; a curious breeze followed.

She looked over her shoulder, at the headboard of her bed.

It was silent — too silent for her heart to be beating so fast.

She was too restive to go back to sleep.

Her tower in Canterlot Castle afforded a generous view of the night sky. Moonlight shone into the room, and it fixed its gaze upon the midnight-blue carpet and its crescent patterns. The stars hung high above, steady and unmoving, as sentinel as their steward.

Not all of the castle-town below was sleeping. Some houses still had their lights on; some of those houses housed animately moving shadows. The culinary district was pitch-black; there, nothing stirred. Only a few spires protruded from the opposite wing of Canterlot Castle; one spire towered above them all. It was still hard for Dinky to believe that she was sleeping in the same castle as Princess Celestia.

All the same, she still longed for a simpler chapter in her life.

It started in a quiet farming village called Ponyville. Ditzy Doo had been with children. Of those children, Dinky alone had remained. In Ponyville, Dinky had been raised as an unremarkable schoolfilly. But everything had changed when a self-proclaimed creative nonfiction writer crash-landed into her life.

Dinky sighed, forelegs against the windowsill.

It only felt like just yesterday when she and Daring Do were admiring Princess Luna's night.

A star streaked across it, drawing Dinky's eyes. All the while, she hoped that somewhere in the farming settlement in the distance, they had seen it too.

A few houses there were still awake, but she couldn't get a closer look. She wouldn't open the window; winter had barely just thawed.

She hid back under her covers.

Only the ember of a bedside lantern served as company now. Pleasant orange was flashing against the starry blankets.

Before it could go out completely, Dinky levitated a photograph of four very special fillies.

And she touched it.

"See you soon, guys."

Then she retreated back into her covers.

Miles away, on a certain apple farm, a yellow filly had just touched her copy of that photo.

That same portrait stood on another nightstand, in a room of Carousel Boutique, whose light went out just then.

Removing her hoof from the photo, Scootaloo also went back to bed. "See you soon, Dinky."

---

"Soldier! Name and origin of your Cutie Mark!"

On the other side of this order and a violet barrier stood a soldier. They were the last of the scouts who had been sent out to retrieve three ponies. The scouts had had to stand in a queue before the train entrance for hours. Each scout had had to give their name and the origin of their Cutie Mark, by order of Captain Shining Armor, of the Royal Guard.

After giving their name and Cutie Mark origin story, the Captain, Shining Armor, stepped aside. "You may proceed."

The soldier passed his captain by, bowing low to Princess Cadence as they crossed paths.

Princess Cadence took no heed; she broke no step, but proceeded to Captain Shining Armor.

"My beloved, is all this really necessary? Don't you think you're being just a teeny bit paranoid?"

Shining turned. "My duties as the Captain of the Royal Guard come first, before anything else," he said, eliciting the rise of an eyebrow.

"What's next? Are you going to interrogate me about my Cutie Mark?"

Shining laughed. "Don't worry," he said, waving a careless hoof. "Nopony could ever replace you, Cadance."

Cadence smiled. "True. Nopony indeed. All the same," she said, angling her head skyward, "I want the sun to shine on us the exact moment we say, 'I do'. And that cannot happen unless you remove your barrier."

Shining shook his head, his demeanor turning serious. "You know just as well as I do that I can't do that, Cadance," he said, "not with the threat of a Changeling so close to us now."

"Of course, of course. I was just testing you. You are a great defender, my beloved."

She leaned her head close against his shoulder; he pushed her away.

"What's with this 'my beloved' business?" he chuckled. "You've never been this affectionate with me before, not even in bed."

A pink hoof stifled a girlish giggle. "Oh, just excited about our perfect day," she said, fluttering her eyelashes teasingly.

"Okay, okay, let's save it for the honeymoon," he said. "But right now, I have to concentrate; this spell is a tricky one to pull off."

An orb-like barrier large enough to enclose Canterlot hung above Shining, not unlike the one that his sister had helped reinforce over Ponyville some moons previous.

Magic hummed at his horn, which he was aiming skyward.

A bead of sweat slithered down the side of his face.

He was crouching close to the ground.

Licking his lips, Shining rose, firing a long jet of sparkles.

After it splatted onto the surface of the barrier, a bright shockwave spread far from the point of impact; the shockwave whooshed over the heads of everypony in the city, a chorus of gasps having confirmed their awe. The barrier blinked, and now, its magical nodes were winking with more heart now, like the stars in the night that had faded hours prior.

Meanwhile, his teeth were gleaming handsomely; he always liked showing off whenever Twilight wasn't around.

"Pretty rad, eh?" he said, about to turn around.

But the loss in magic induced a headache, which he found himself staunching with his hoof.

He collapsed.

Cadence frowned. "Oh, Shining Armor," she said, helping him up. "You don't look so well. Perhaps you should take a break from casting that barrier spell? It's taking a whole lot out of you; I don't know how much longer you can keep this up for."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, his suddenly heavy breathing saying otherwise; shaking it off, he spotted a trio of mares, whom his soldiers had rescued, approaching. "Look, you go with your bridesmaids and take care of the wedding. I'll handle the security. My sister Twilight and her friends are scheduled to arrive in just a few hours. Why don't you get things prepared for their visit until they arrive?"

Cadence was already walking away. "Already on it, my beloved."

Striding ahead of the bridesmaids, she bowed her head slightly. She would get things prepared for the visit of Shining's sister and her friends. The bridesmaids stared blankly ahead as they trailed behind her, like the farthest hems of the wedding dress that she would soon be wearing.

They walked through the streets, ponies sinking into bows before her as she made her way to the castle.

"Leave me," she commanded.

"Yes, Your Highness," the bridesmaids droned.

They headed towards the main entrance of the castle.

Meanwhile, Cadence swept out of sight.

The path she took was not as oft trodded as many others.

Bored into a nondescript mountainface was a secret that lay outside both the foundations and memory of Canterlot Castle. It had taken much espionage to locate it; and now, she bade it open.

Darkness swallowed her face as she stepped in.

It was a wet, dark passage. Stalactites hung above, their shadows turning cautiously as Cadence walked past. Her footsteps were out of sync with the constant drip of water from somewhere unseen. Yet they were softer; they echoed more softly, for each hoofstep was more delicate, more becoming of royalty. Even in private, she would deign to stoop to nothing less.

The entrance stopped groaning; it had shut.

Once upon a time, there lived a group of unicorns in Canterlot. For years, they hoarded the city's entire supply of gemstones. But neither the sparkle nor the shine of their wealth could go unnoticed for long. Before long, hundreds of dragons, including Dragon Lord Torch himself, came to claim the gems as his own. The unicorns would not relinquish their treasures so easily, which angered the dragons. The dragons were of a mind to set Canterlot ablaze, which did not abash the unicorns in the slightest. The other ponies of Canterlot, meanwhile, were terrified. So Princess Celestia took charge. Setting claim to the treasure of the unicorns, she surrendered it to Dragon Lord Torch. The Dragon Lord and his subjects went on their way, Equestrian gems in tow. The unicorns were in an outrage; it would not be soon before they would start a revolt. That's when Princess Celestia decided to expound about the catacombs within Canterlot Mountain, where precious gemstones were rumored to lie, more plentiful than the stock that Princess Celestia had surrendered on their behalf. Without ado, the greedy unicorns rushed into the catacombs. None of them saw daylight again. It was a tale that rarely made it into the pages of Equestrian history.

Cadence was crossing through a part of the cave that was more crystal than rock.

Centuries later, the existence of the catacombs was lost to legend. But Cadence knew they were more than just stories. Were she as foolish as the others, she could have sworn that the ghosts of the unicorns still echoed throughout the catacombs to this day. But it was just the echoes of a pitiful pony.

The hoofsteps stopped.

She had paused before a spot. The light of her horn illuminated a scarred pile of flesh, and her gaze suggested that she saw it as nothing more.

"Do not mistake my actions," she said; her voice was quiet but imperious. "This is hardly mercy. Were you so lucky, you would not be here, cowering like the vermin that you are."

Be it due to fear or the cold the flesh pile shivered, it was impossible to tell. Pressing her hoof over the flank, Cadence rolled it back like it was a carpet whose patterns she wished to appraise.

"I have kept you alive, this is true," she continued, "but only to feast upon your grief. For you see, normal love is but an appetizer for one such as myself. But the main feast lies within what remains when a love for another dies. Surely, this much is obvious?"

"W-who… are you…?"

The pink-furred head drooped to the cave floor, battered.

"Oh," Cadence said, lifting the chin of the pony to look her in the eyes, "but I believe our dearly betrothed has already spoken of me, once or twice? Perhaps this is what you deserve, whelp, for paying so little attention to his discussions about work, about security and foreign threats."

The eyelashes of the beaten pony were flickering, the eyes beneath struggling to see her captor.

Then they just gave up.

Cadence dropped her, then nudged her with the tip of her hoof.

"Hmph," she said, smirking, "do not fret, my dear, for it shan't be long before he joins you here. You shall see what becomes of the stallion you once loved. You shall see him for the shell that I will have rightfully reduced him to. He will be no more than a puppet, his mind long gone, his love for you right where it belongs. You will grieve for him; you will beg me to put him out of his misery. That, my dear, shall be my mercy. And once I have obliged, you shall follow. The rest… Perhaps it is mercy also that you shall not see what becomes of Equestria next."

Cadence threw her head back to shriek high. Her laughter echoed in the dank cavern, a cacophony of madness and glee. It was like the catacomb walls were made of mirrors of sound, and bouncing off them was her laughter, again and again and without end. But no matter what, nopony else but the crumpled half-carcass before her could hear her.

Her chest was heaving triumphantly. Her mouth was drooling; her head was hung. The tri-color bangs did well to obscure her face, her eyes as well.

The last of her echoes were dying.

Soon, they were just a memory better left forgotten.

When she whipped her head back up, an especially long strand of hair careened between the middle of her eyes, which had never been more iridescent. She brought Cadance's face up to hers again.

"Have you any objections, whelp?"

Cadance's head drooped down in response, enticing Cadence's teeth into a would-be pointy-fanged smile.

"Oh, I have a feeling that this day is going to be just perfect."

Comments

[Bronycommander]

nice work and good reference at the end

[eclair_de_xii]

12042496
It wasn't much of a hassle to write. Revising it, on the other hand...

[Bronycommander]

12042509
naturally