Spouts and sprouts of MLP short stories, poetry, and such as I write them.
Within are spouts and sprouts of MLP short stories, poetry, and such as I write them, for you to enjoy.
The author's note is utilized as needed, and titles include the characters focused upon.
Some will be the products of speed writes or contests that I am content with remaining shorter than one thousand words. Others are simply spur of the moment or really just not that long to write about.
The piano played on, echoing from the castle balcony to the twinkling darkness above, as she cried out silently, as she keyed on, staring into the void above her, hoping, hoping for a better future.
Above, the moon’s reflecting face stared back, silent yet judging, soaking the sorrowful tunes, and returning nothing, once more, and once more, as cold as the space above, locked away in agonizing stasis.
Yellow streams of her aura enveloped her every movement, moving her weary, devastated body through her nightly ritual of soothing herself, and perhaps her sister, in spite of total exhaustion, for she must play on no matter what.
The silver light simply stood still, in no attempt to answer back, as it had been each night for the past century, slowly passing each night away, spinning away as the music softly churned in tandem with the sad she who composed it herself.
Celestia awkwardly poked at her desert with a levitating fork. Usually, she'd devour a triple fudge ice cream cake. But not tonight. For the first time in a while, dessert didn’t feel isolating. A welcome change from a thousand years of loneliness was now over–but replaced by an awkward sister whom she knew almost nothing about now.
"So," Celestia looked up at her equally awkward, unpossessed sister. "What do you wish to know of today in Equestria?"
Luna, looking far younger despite her age, thought a moment before answering. Mustering courage, after so much change, was anxiety-inducing. A "speak normally" spell at least helped.
"Well… I…" She cleared her throat. "I… fear I might blast our shaky relationship if we get to know about each other now, and-."
"Oh no, go ahead!' Celestia shoved her bowl aside and leaned forward. "I'm here for you."
Luna breathed in, taking a small bite of her mint fudge. She nodded whilst taking a swig of royally fine milk. Refreshing after so long without supplements.
Celestia thought she understood. “Is it something about today compared to yesteryear?” she guessed.
"I think an analogy will help segue," Luna suggested.
"Most assuredly, sister!' Celestia felt a small tingle of connection.
"Let's see… bread and breadcrumbs."
"Very simple," Celestia noted. "Good choice."
"Once I thought I liked breadcrumbs."
Celestia realized the time span involved. "Before… her."
The moon princess sheepishly nodded, subtle feelings of guilt still present. Celestia parted the table and hugged her sister. Their embrace lasted a few minutes before either spoke again. Celestia stood beside her, winging in comfort.
"I am here for you. Speak your heart."
Luna nodded. "As I was saying?"
"Yes, sister."
Luna took another bite and drink before continuing. "And… over time, stale breadcrumbs accumulate to become whole. I've changed internally, I’ve realized."
“So you feel, despite… her,” Celesta put delicately, “You now feel confident in part of your identity that changed over time?”
“Yes, while I had… fleeting moments… up there.” Her expression mixed between anticipation, dread, and haunted.
"You feel like bread now?" Celestia asked for confirmation.
"That's… that's right."
This confounded her, princess of a thousand years, a comparison so simple. Maybe she was out or touched, or new to sistering, but now she felt guilty. She decided to tighten her wing grasp in preparation. Luna gave her an inquisitive expression. It was no or never to become the sister she needed to be.
"Maybe…" Celestia let loose a small, ironic chuckle. "You could be more, um, direct?"
Luna's eyes lit with black fire. "I'M ASEXUAL, SISTER!"
Everything snapped into place. The shuffling since Luna has gotten here, deep nights in the law library, specific studies of the modern day, asking others strange questions.
She practically choke-hugged Luna in desperation to not offend her. Luna wheezed, though her wing wrapped back
"It's okay!" she gasped out.
Celestia loosened up, though remained hugging.
"A long time on the moon resulted in changes to myself… I felt hesitant to share."
"I won't judge you! Everyone is treated equally in Equestria!” Celestia wailed. “I’ve worked hard to make everypony friendlier to you-
"Calm down, breathe, sister!"
Ten deep breaths later, the atmosphere in the room was lighter. Celestia was now the one shuffling in place. Though, it was a bit more jubilant than earlier. The sisters held fast together, leaning while floating their desserts to each other. Eventually, their nerves soothed as the last of their milk rations drained.
Celestia decided to speak first.
"Sorry, I couldn't pick up on what you meant-"
"That's okay. I should've been more blunt,” Luna chipped in.
"No, no, you were right to be afraid of what I'd say. It's been… a long time."
Luna’s pupils sparkled. “I feared others might…. look down, to say the least, that we’d digressed.”
“Not at all! Never!” Celestia declared. “Not as long as I rule!”
The black princess smiled brightly. “Thank you, sister. It’s hard to say why I feel different about myself now.”
“What matters is treating you as who you decide to be, free of her.”
"Change is difficult for us both," Luna acknowledged.
A law book popped into the room. "We support everyone, sister, and I love you with all my heart."
"I'm sticking you to that!" Luna jokingly threatened.
Unexpectedly, Celestia found herself bursting into laughter. Luna smiled, genuinely, as she tried to dial it down, though to no avail for a whole minute. Once she'd died down, Celestia stood firmly.
"We shall be honest and supportive in all things with each other," the sun princess vowed.
"Including my newfound self-realization of asexuality," Luna asserted.
"And that as well."
They took another hug, this one their longest in a while yet.
As the last pangs of bitterness died in her heart, the stone snapped to dust. Chrysalis stumbled and gasped, looking up to see Twilight and a contingent of strangely armored guards.
“I…. am sorry…” tears swelled.
A wing wrapped tightly. “It’s okay, let it out.”
The quivering bug hid her face, sobbing into the purple wings. Unmeasurable grief swelled, almost swallowing her whole. She felt poisoned, betrayed by herself in a way.
Only hours later, did she speak.
“How… long has it been?”
“Two thousand years.”
Chrysalis gazed upon, Tirek and Cozy, still frozen. It’d take that long for her to accept she’d been wrong. A weak, chortled laugh escaped.
“Just us left, isn’t it?”
Twilight muttered. “Few alicorns have arisen since…. I… needed you.”
“It’s okay.” Chrysalis hugged her. “You saved me, and you need a friend.”
This was it. It was surely the cessation of her existence.
She had pushed the limits of her magic too far. The screams of the Grand Galloping Gala’s fleeing attendants only further fueled her panic.
Try as she might, Sunset could not recall the expanding arcs of plasma swirling from her horn, lashing in all directions. She’d tipped her scale over too far, seeping.
One second she was testing her durability–the next the balance within her cracked, The white fireball engulfing her horn exploded outward in a phloom of heat.
What have I done to myself?
The flames roared, swiftly consuming every inch of matter around her. Sunset writhed in agony as it threw her to the floor. The castle stone melted, morphing slurries. Few escaped the throne room–they sizzled into charred remains, burned away at temperatures most would be dead at,--unlike her.
This was supposed to be a simple trick!
She tried to crawl, but her flesh quickly stuck to the heated stone. By a cruel miracle, her cutie mark flank remained intact, as if to remind her of her abilities in her last moments. The magma ate away at the stone she lay on, cutting off all escape. Slowly eating away at the chunk of floor effused to her.
A whirlwind of fire, with wind speeds she couldn’t understand, unfurled around the growing lake of liquid rock. The princesses burst through the door to save her, but the inferno prevented them from going any closer. Celestia’s tearful eyes met Sunset’s, turning away, forced to retreat and save others.
Damn myself, damn it all!
Soon, all she could see was an abyss of crimson, orange, yellow, and white, as if the sun had come down to earth. She felt herself cooking, her stone-attached skin boiling as she attempted to scream–her tongue no more. Redness skewed through as she boiled away in the heat. The water in her eyes evaporated.
Nor did any air remain in the pure brilliance of fire. She could not screech, she could not breathe. Sunset gaped silently as she stared, frozen in place to the hot hell surrounding her. How she had done it mattered not. All that was going to happen was that she knew she would die.
I’m sorry! Save me! I care not how!
Despite her pleas, nothing but pain endured as the stone she lay upon lowered and lowered. The swirling convection in the air more than tripled her burning. The magic inside her evaporated as her body turned into a slurry. Sunset’s vision remained intact to see it all. Coherent thoughts struggled.
Minutes and minutes passed.
Nothing could save her now.
In due time, she finally collapsed into the magma. Sunset’s magic gave out as she fell beneath the waves. Fire consumed her reserves, drawing upon her. The last bits of magic were yet to give way. She watched, betwixt the immense suffering beyond compare or words, as her immobile body sank.
The last of her unicorn essence slipped from her horn into the melting rock. She drowned under brimstone and pain. And it happened then. Her skin eviscerated, not a moment too soon. Flesh roasted before becoming magma itself. Bones became ash, unto the earth itself. Fur singed into nothingness. Nerves blazed, now hot dust.
She saw her very essence morph into the elements she thought she had mastered.
Her eyesight went black, as her head crushed from pressure.
The core of her bodily magic gave way to the fire sea.
And then…
… she awoke with a gasp.
Heat flared her eyes before she could see again.
Wings flapped on instinct.
Wait, how am I alive?
She lay on a cool, black rock, staring into the remains of the castle surrounding the throne room around the crater. Guards were in every corridor. Shields prevented the heat from going beyond the sphere of destruction. Daylight shone through the melted roof. It had been hours, hours since she died. Yet, here she was.
White and black wings flashed in vision as their owner slammed into the ground beside them. Sunset, still paralyzed, moves her eyes to look. Celestia’s eyes were wet and confused. Luna looked worse, exhausted as her magic hummed. For Sunset, everything burned. Alive again, every part of her burned.
“Sunset, you are now…” she shakily informed, “the Princess… Of Flame.”
Sunset felt herself choke up, unable to cry for lack of hydration.
The hallway of muttering rooms whispered. She could hear the insanity trying to reach out. A crooked, red-stained nose hurt–badly. The shivering caused by the winter drafts of this dreary juvie did not help.
For one loaf of bread, those bastards in Canterlot's court system sentenced her to suffer for a year. Her body angrily quaked. She reached her cell. Just to rub salt in the wound, she wasn’t allowed visitors. Left to be forgotten by a rotten world
They weren’t technically cells, but potato potato. She’d just gotten her life back together thanks to Sunset. Wallflower strode to her sparse toiletry section. Yet, someone turned her in for a petty crime committed during her magical rampaging.
Eventually, she finished stuffing her nasal passages. So much for graduating normally. The sandpaper toilet paper itched despite doing its job. The mirror revealed her decrepit, depressed face. Two months in. And ten long ones to go.
She laughed at her disastrous condition. Bone-thin and always disheveled. Just a minor distraction when bored in the mandatory classes. Her health was a joke now. Her now dead garden used to be able could properly feed her.
The rusty sink creaked. Wallflower splashed a cold wave of relief over her half-bruised face. Drying it with her sleeves, she flopped across a filthy bed. The coiled springs squeaked. Decently comfortable for its appearance.
