Flamma: The Tale of a Pyromancer

by TMH

Chapter VII: Do Foals Dream of Cotton Candy Sheep?

Chapter VII: Do Foals Dream of Cotton Candy Sheep?

On a cloud suspended high above the world sat two unicorns foals. They sat next to each other at a small table upon which sat a thick book and a tea set. They looked suddenly toward each other and without a word between them began an intricate series of hoofshakes, hoofbumps, and horn sparrings. Once finished with their ritual they smiled happily at each other and turned their attention to the matters at hoof.

“What do you want today, Vinyl?”

“Hmmm...ooh! I know! Hot chocolate with marshmallows, the small ones, a pinch of cinnamon, a dash of mint, and an infusion of licorice. Hot, please.” Vinyl smiled at the thought of her order and eyed the ceramic kettle intensely.

“Coming right up!” Fair took the kettle in his magic and hit it with an intense beam of energy from his horn. The kettle flickered with an ethereal energy and radiated a dancing light reminiscent of a fiercely burning torch for a few moments, then it lost all traces of magic and began hissing steam. The warm and hearty aroma hit the two all at once and they sat together for quite some time simply enjoying the smell. Eventually, Fair’s tongue won the mental battle with his nose and he poured a cup of the thick liquid for himself and another for Vinyl.

Foregoing her horn entirely, Vinyl snatched her cup from its platter and gulped down half of the cup in one chug. She set her cup back onto her platter and sighed, satisfied.

Fair, conversely, steadily lifted both platter and cup to his snout with his magic and smoothly tipped the cup to his mouth while keeping the platter level, the scalding heat didn’t faze him either. “Shall we begin today’s business Miss Scratch?” He looked over to his friend.

“Indeed we shall Mister Flame,” she inclined her head toward the aforementioned book, “shall I do the honors?”

“But of course my honored friend.” Fair sipped at his hot chocolate again, the licorice infusion tasted better than he had predicted.

Vinyl Seized the book with her magic and drug it toward her, Fair leaned over her shoulder to see, still sipping his beverage.

Utilizing her magic once again she began flipping through the pages one at a time, after a few pages she picked up the pace, two pages in as many seconds, twice as many, five pages in a eye blink, ten in a heartbeat. Soon the book was a never ending churn of pages like sheets of rain in a storm. After three refills of Fair’s cup Vinyl stopped the book suddenly and confidently, “Finally!”

Fair raised an eyebrow at the text on page, “A poem? That’s a first.”

Vinyl nodded her consent and began reading,

“Down gilded halls of gold and sun
through days of youth and fun,
molded and tuned.

Past fountains of blueblood
and windows stained with valor’s mud,
Folded and packaged.”

Fair joined in the poem.

“Matron and patron
principles blazon
Darkness Hastens.”

The clouds darkened, lightning cracked.

“Foiled and fooled
fabled and tooled.
Cracked,
Broken,
Straightened.”

The storm continued to build, rain tumbling through the air like a river, hail like fish. The wind blowing clouds apart like a hammer.

“Tangents of stories
weave together
ashes into tapestries,
the embers of time."

Clouds of rain to clouds of ash, hail into brimstone, oppressing darkness to blinding light.

"Passages fade and
form
Stanzas disperse in
storm."

The words on the pages warp and flow like liquid light through canals made of prisms.

"Follow the golden
clad
hoof."

Over the storm beats the cadence of marching hooves, lighting strikes are approaching steps. Flowing ash is a breath on the cheek.

"For a time…”

“Time to arise my little ponies.”

The world stopped.

Clouds imploded into silhouettes of nothingness and ashes melted into themselves, the sulfur spontaneously combusted. The light that was once blinding became a soft nurturing glow and source of pleasant warmth. The tea set withered into shards that shattered into dust; the book melted into a sigh that was the murderous birth of Pandora’s box.

The cloud beneath our intrepid heroes was sheared away by the unseen and unfelt gale of time, and so they fell.

They fell smiling past memories new and old, ancient and yet to be, sharp and blurred. They swept whistling past the crooning of sirens. They fell deftly unto despair and savagely serenity. They sailed naked ever downward, toward the crowing of the cock.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and hay bakey.”

The mysteries of time and spac-

“Did somebody say hay bacon?” Vinyl aske- “I smell food, like, real food, fried food. I’m hungry. Come on Fair.”

Fair turned to her and replie-

“Okay.”

“Now how do we get out of here again?”

The fabric of this world’s reality bent and split before h-

“Woah, that’s cool.”

And the tremulous embrace of wakefulness took vigil over their so-

“Hearing the narration is my least favorite part of this place, Vinyl.”

“Are we awake yet? I want food.”

I give up. Dreams are a nightmare to nar-

“WE WOKE UP ALRIGHT!?”

“WE WOKE UP ALRIGHT!?”

...no need to yell.

Author's Note:

This chapter is pretty short I know, but I couldn't find any way to add to it without detracting from the whole point of the chapter, and it wouldn't fit right as a part of another, but I don't anticipate any more chapters this short in the future.