GREEN
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4894 27.49 KB 306
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Prose Equus 21
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>It’s a nice, brisk day in the Everfree Forest today so long as you ignore the argument next to you.
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>”Mother, I have to protest this.”
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>”So you have said many TIMES, Tyr.” Sleipnir says, walking out of the Bifrost. “Yet here I am despite them.”
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>The Queen and the General walk behind you as you lead them through the forest into town.
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>”Asgard is the lynch-pin for the Nine Realms and you are at the center of Asgard! If you leave then the balance of Yggdrassil WILL be disrupted!”
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>The Queen stops and rolls her eye at her son. “By my beard, you make it sound like the world will stop spinning if I stop looking. I am the All-Mother and if I wish to be on Midgard this day, so shall it be. Obey my commands and return to the city.”
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>The war god stomps his metal hoof-cap onto the dirt. “That isn’t good enough, Mother! The hill giants grow emboldened and the trolls will begin mating season any day now! Our defenses-“
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>”May be handled by our defenders today.” Sleipnir interrupts.
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>“Mother-!”
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>”Tyr.” She says, bending her neck down to look her son in the eyes. A silent moment passes non-verbally between them. “Despite what you believe, I trust Asgard in your hooves. Allow yourself to do the same.”
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>Tyr sighs and hangs his head. “As you command, Mother…” He holds his capped hoof to his chest and trots back to the Bifrost. Sleipnir follows him and watches until he goes. It’s only when you find yourself in the presence of one god that you find the urge to speak.
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“I understand that children can be…trying at times.” You say, trying to have any sympathy.
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>Like you knew the first thing about having kids, you weren’t genetically compatible with this entire planet.
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>She straightens up. “My son is, of all my children, the one closest in my hoofprints.”
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>Sleipnir turns and trots past you, urging you to follow again. “The good and the bad.”
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>You walk with the queen past Zecora’s hut, looking inside and seeing it empty.
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“His commitment to the crown is obvious, at least. That’s the best commander a guard can ask for.”
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>”He’s a prince, he should act like it.”
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“Isn’t a prince meant to obey his queen?”
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>”You prefer your rulers to present their bellies to anyone who imposes on them?” the Queen asks as you both crunch through the snow. “Those with power over others must always be challenged by them, less they grow so fat on themselves that they become imperious.”
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“…Surely you can see where that may seem hypocritical, coming from you.”
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>”The irony is not lost on me, No-name. But my children were gods before they were princes and princesses.” The winter wind blows through the trees and tosses some of the snow off its branches and the silence of the cold slowly cracks as the early risers in the forest come out of hibernation. “Above all other things, a god must become whatever they need to be to their flock, be that a guiding hand, a revolutionary, or a tyrant.”
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“Which are you?”
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>Sleipnir looks down to you and pulls her mouth back to a wry grin that lets you see both rows of her teeth and the carvings upon them. “Me? I am all things…depending on your point of view.”
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>You exhale a laugh through your nostrils.
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“So, what is someone who wants to rebel against you before you grow full of yourself to do? You know more than anyone how dominating you can be.”
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>”Rebel harder.”
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“Hardly sporting when you’re rebelling against the ruler of everything.”
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>Sleipnir’s grin turns to a sneer. “What sort of fool believes life is fair?”
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>You both stop at the bridge into town when you reach it, so engrossed in discussion that you hadn’t noticed the commotion until getting close.
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>Ponyville is a hive of activity as its citizenry move about in a unified canto, they wear different colored vests and carry out duties like knocking icicles off houses, shoveling snow, and dicing up ice on lakes. What’s more, they’re all singing.
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>The Queen looks over them like a mother who found her child eating the drapes.
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>”What manner of foul sorcery-“
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“Is it Winter Wrap Up already?”
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>”You know what this IS?”
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>You slowly turn to the All-Mother.
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“Of course. In Equestria, the seasons are rotated manually. This is Winter Wrap Up, where everyone helps put away Winter so Spring can start, they do it when the food stores start running out.”
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>”And the singing?”
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>You shrug.
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“They always sing.”
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>You and the Queen look back into town where you spot a little purple dot to wave at.
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“Oh look, there’s Twilight. She’ll probably need help, it’s good luck we came today.”
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>Sleipnir looks around the town again, where ponies bounce along with bunnies, sing along with birds, and build snow-stallions.
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>You hear her take a deep breath.
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>”FU-“
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>”Anon! Hey!”
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“Hey Twilight!”
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>Twilight stands at the center of the town with a clipboard in her hooves, diligently keeping track of the duties everyone performed and what still needs getting done.
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>You wave to her as the two of your approach, Sleipnir grunts a greeting.
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>”Mortal.”
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>Twilight gives an awkward laugh and a bow, then leans closer to you. “IIiiiiis something the matter?”
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“I don’t think she likes all the singing.”
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>Sleipnir pipes up. “If I were able to choose between being here on this day or the day of a massive asteroid impact, I’d choose the asteroid twice.”
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“Pay her no mind. What’s the haps?”
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>”I wish I could say this is a normal Winter Wrap Up, but I’m struggling to keep us on schedule as it is. No one’s been able to find Discord and that’s left us shorthanded.”
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“Wish I could say I’m surprised. For a manifestation of disorder, he can be quite predictable.”
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>”He has his good days and his bad.”
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>You flex both arms at Twilight.
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“Well, we can’t have winter wrapping up late, can we? Consider yourself in possession of two able bodied new workers.”
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>Twilight gives you a sympathetic look as her eyes drift to the monarch behind you. “Two…?”
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>You glance back at Sleipnir and silently plead with her.
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>The Queen rolls her eye and sighs heavily. “Give me the list.”
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>Twilight smiles and floats the list over to her, Sleipnir reads the first line.
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>”Clear sky.”
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>Sleipnir stomps her frontmost right hoof against the ground and calls forth a crack of thunder. An barely visible power erupts upwards from her body and rockets into the atmosphere, sending ripples of force through the air that causes dust to kick and pegusi to tumble, but blows the clouds in the sky away for miles and miles. Every pony in Ponyville is left staring aghast at what happened, even as the welcome light of the winter sun shines on their faces.
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>”Next.” Says the queen.
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>You lean over to her.
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“Your Majesty…”
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>She sighs again, the deep yet quick sigh of someone nearing the end of their patience.
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>”What.”
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>You look around the square, everypony now tracing the literal act of god that clear the sky back to the only possible culprit.
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“Perhaps lighten up a bit.”
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>Sleipnir’s eye twitches and you hear glass breaking somewhere far away.
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>”Hey Anon, did you pass by Zecora’s hut on the way here?”
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>You look over your shoulder to Twi, anything to get away from the withering gaze at your front.
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“Yeah? Why?”
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>Twilight rubs her chin. “She sent a letter saying she couldn’t be a part of Winter Wrap up because she was performing a ritual, something about warding off winter spirits. I’d hoped she’d be back home by now…”
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>You’d never heard of winter spirits being this far south.
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>The Queen’s ear now twitches in your direction. “Send me to the boarder.”
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>Twilight backs up a bit when Sleipnir approaches her. “B-beg pardon?”
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>”The edge of town, what duty do you have to fulfill near there?”
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>The flustered pony princess checks her list. “Well…there are animal dens to the south that still need clearing out.”
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>”It’ll do.”
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>Without another word, Sleipnir turns and makes her way towards the southern edge of town.
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>”Wait!” Twilight calls. “You need a vest!”
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“No way those fit someone with eight legs.”
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>Sleipnir wordlessly floats two vests over to her and slips them both on.
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“I stand corrected.”
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-Sleipnir PoV-
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>The animal burrows outside Ponyville are host to a wide assortment of creatures that the populace now prance along with as they wake.
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>Bunnies, squirrels, birds.
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>Trios of snakes that hide in their burrow and hiss when you stick your snout in.
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“Yes, show even less gratitude, that will help.”
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>You snatch the snakes in your magic and pull them out along with your head. They squirm in your grip as their kind are one to do, requiring you to bap them against the snow banks a few times.
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“Honestly, things like you are what I find most offensive about the mortals claiming that I created all living things upon Equestria.”
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>You hold the snakes up, they lay limp and dazed, but alive.
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“As if I would make anything as vile as you.”
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>You let the wretches go to slither off into the world when the wind catches your ear.
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>”Yer pullin’ too hard!”
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>”I am not! You’re pulling too soft!”
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>You feel the vein in your head bulge at the sound of childish arguments you’ve heard a thousand times before, but you also feel your hooves walking in the direction of the noise to investigate.
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>A Mother’s work is never done.
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>You round the hill to find a trio of fillies forming a chain with their bodies and all pulling to get something out of a den in the ground. They all see you at approximately the same time and freeze like they were pulling treats from the pantry.
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>Again, it’s up to you to break the silence.
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“Should I even bother asking.”
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>No, it turns out, you should not have, as now the three of them rush you and begin shouting over each other in an attempt to explain their situation. All your hear is noise in an attempt to garner your attention and sympathies, an unending TORRENT of aural assault that drives its spikes into your skull like it did when the children were young.
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“ENOUGH.” You say, silencing them.
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>You look down, three pairs of sparkling youthful eyes look back at you awaiting an answer to why you shushed them.
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“I am half blind. Not half deaf.”
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>All three inhale again trying to get their words out before their comrades and not realizing they all thought of the same idea.
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“AND I ALSO DO NOT CARE ENOUGH TO HEAR.” You say.
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>With a small flex of your mind, you pull whatever was stuck out of the den they were pulling from, making a simple large stone blast out of the ground and land a bit away.
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“…Was that it?”
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>”Yeah…” Applebloom nods.”
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“WHAT were you DOING.”
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>”Helping bunnies!”
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“Sweetie Belle, that is a rock, not a rabbit.”
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>Scootaloo scrunches her face. “Wait a minute, how do you know our names Mrs Slippy-near?”
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“Because I know everything.”
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>One aspect of children you enjoyed was that you telling them that was all they needed to hear to accept it.
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>You needed not be omnipotent to know that leaving these three to their own devices was asking for more arguments and headaches, so you keep yourself close by while they run around rousing animals from hibernation.
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>The girls run about the fields, sticking their noses into more burrows and ringing small bells to rouse the rabbits out. Some of the little beasts take a liking to them, hopping along behind them as they go about their duties.
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>You suppose like attracts like.
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>Sweetie Belle giggles as they clear the most recent den. “This sort of reminds you of the old days, dontcha think?”
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>”You mean back when we were lookin’ for our Cutie Marks?” remarks Applebloom.
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>”A-huh!”
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>Scootaloo groans. “Don’t remind me. I get sore just thinking about all crazy stunts we did trying to find our special talents.”
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>It is Applebloom’s turn to laugh now as she presents her flank to the others. “It all worked out though, didn’t it? Looks like a beaut in the sunlight.”
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>The girls all three press their rumps together and marvel at the marks on them.
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“Hmph.”
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>Scootaloo rolls her eyes. “Alright, go ahead and say whatever you want to say, Queen Downer.”
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>Hitting children when you’re visiting Midgard would cause a headache, but the filly clearly intended to intimidate you into silence by way of you being in an “uncomfortable situation” at being directly challenged.
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>You settle for teaching her not to leave such an opening.
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“You three accept them then?”
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>You nod to their flanks.
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“Those marks of a life decided?”
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>The girls look at themselves. “Uh, yeah?”
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>”Why wouldn’t we be?”
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>You feel your lips press into a snarl and force them back down.
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“A life lived that was decided by another is no life at all.”
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>You walk over to the girls, trying to appear as non-threatening as you can.
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“Being judged by some…ephemeral force outside of your understanding. “Destiny”, “Fate”, call it what you will. The fact remains that those marks represent an aptitude, a life, being chosen for you rather than by you. I could never accept such a life.”
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>”Then why do you have one?” Scootaloo asks, pointing to a mark on your flank.
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>You think back to receiving that mark, the scalding pain and the dull ache that got lost in all the other dull aches over the many eons.
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“That isn’t a Cutie Mark, it’s a brand, and I chose to receive it.”
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>The girls recoil slightly.
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>”When?” Applebloom asks.
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“When I cut out my eye.”
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>Now the girls gag or stick out their tongues.
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>”Ah don’t know about alla that, Yer Majesty. But ah always looked at our Cutie Marks as…well…it’s sorta like us tellin’ us what it is we’re good at.”
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>You raise your good eyebrow.
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>”Cutie Marks don’t have’ta be somepony else deciding how you live yer life, they can be somethin’ that comes from inside you. We all got parts of ourselves we don’t know about, and findin’ those parts is what makes yer Cutie Mark appear! It’s like a…reflection in a mirror almost. Ya can’t see your mane out of place unless ya got somethin’ to look back on yerself with.”
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>Articulation aside, you mull that over inside your mind.
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“Who told you that?”
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>”Mah Granny!” Applebloom says proudly.
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“Tell Granny that she could have done worse.”
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>No sooner do the words leave your lips that a savage and blood roar rips the air.
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“Damn.” You say, looking to the sky.
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>The fillies at your hooves cower at the roar and hide between your legs, you shelter them readily.
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>”Wh-what was that?”
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>”Besides super loud!”
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“Girls, stay here unless I tell you to move.”
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>You follow the sound of the roar to the trees further into the forest. Once you heard Twilight mention winter spirits, you’d knew this would occur. You placed yourself here to keep the mortals safe, but these three just had to find themselves here as well.
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>As memory serves, they were the same ones Mjolna had to rescue. Perhaps they were just accident prone.
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>You see their yellow eyes flash between the trees, catching glints of the sunlight they try to avoid. Normally they wouldn’t be out this far in the light, but you had never been normal.
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>The girls must see them too, as they ask. “Wh-what those?!”
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“Wendigo.”
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>Sweetie Belle jumps up in fright as the beasts begin to exit the trees, you take some steps forward, putting yourself between the girls and them. “Wendigo!? But they never come down here!”
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“They’ve come for me.”
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>”What do you mean, yer majesty?”
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“I offer something rare indeed, girls; my heartfelt apologies.”
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>You stomp your hoof and cause a crack of noise to frighten the beasts back a bit.
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“We gods are not like you mortals, and to think as such is folly. The mightiest magics of your world are but footnotes in mine, and these beasts are what occurs when they comingle.”
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>”Just say it in English!” Scooatloo shouts.
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“The magical energy I exert has drawn them here.”
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>The Wengido snarl at the treeline and rush closer, gliding upon the snow like birds upon the wind and smelling the magical pressure coming off you.
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>You take some steps forward to meet the creatures.
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“Mortals, stay put right there. You will be safe from them so long as I am between the two of you.”
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>”I hope you’ve got a plan!” Scootaloo yells.
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>You allow yourself a slight smirk.
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“Always…Ishtar!”
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>In Equestria, the sun was moved across the sky by the magic of Princess Celestia, the immortal Princess of the Sun, who held control over it. This is how it has been for a thousand years.
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>But the realm of Midgard had existed much longer than a mere millennium, and the sun holds a much more storied history than simply that.
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>Once the sun was the hiding spot for a seraphim, one who flew masterless and free across all the Nine Realms declaring her dominance and demanding jewels and adoration in return. When she flew through Asgard, not long after your ascension to the throne, you gave chase across the virginal skies of Midgard. You recall how she would dart and zip through the newly forming peaks of the primordial land, attempting to hide from your gaze and outrun you, eventually going all the way up to the sky to escape your wrath, so sure she was that you could not follow.
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>Isthar was correct, of course, you could not fly to the sun. That was why you pulled the sun to the ground and her with it. With lash and chain, along might and power, you stripped off a portion of the star and bound it to the angel, transforming her and it into the it to the angel, transforming her and it into the spiraling weapon that rides on a solar ejection down to the surface and across the path of the Wendigo.
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>An arm goes flying as you catch it on the rebound and hold it in your grip next to your head. Either from the heat of the weapon or your own gut, you feel the mystical fire of old dredge itself back up.
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“Come on.” You snarl.
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>The Wendigo charge and so do you.
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>Even in the form she now possessed, Ishtar was nearly impossible to control, which is why she most often materialized as a great spinning chakram with no discernable grip. Only through your magic can Ishtar be controlled, and even then she flies off when you let her.
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>Fortunately, that suit you fine.
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>With a whip of your magic, you send Ishtar slicing through the air, leaving tracks of flame through it. The angelic weapon travels on a wide arc before taking a turn that would be impossible to make with a throw, looping through the air and returning to you.
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“Be it desperation that drives you from your mountains or ignorance at what you will find here, I care not!”
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>You throw your weapon a short distance, cutting into a Wendigo with just the tips of its blades before it ricochets back.
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“You will find no salvation at this place today! And so, BEGONE!”
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>You pull Ishtar back over your shoulder and release her to orbit around you when the Wendigo close in. The bladed star tears through the air, exploding an inferno into the air in its passing that catches many wendigo in its wake.
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>You feel that fire inside you.
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“Haha! COME! SHOW ME WHAT PASSES FOR FURY AMONG YOUR MISBEGOTTEN KIND!”
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>Mere flames cannot harm you, and so you race through them to close the distance on the Wendigo. They slash at you with their chipped claws and try to bite at you with haggard fangs.
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>Even with a blind eye and millennia of rust in your muscles, these beasts pose no threat to you, however you do relish the opportunity to chase down an enemy and smite them without abandon once more.
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>Red pounds at the corner of your sight the harder you push.
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“HAHAHA! YES, COME AND FACE ME, DOGS!”
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>You hear a shout, but not the one you wanted.
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>You turn your good eye back and see the three mortals cowering as a Wendigo leaps its way over the fence and fall on them. They attempt to fizzle a spell of protection or flutter their wings to escape but cannot move fast enough.
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>You feel a feeling not felt in nearly twenty years, your heart sinking through your chest in the icy grip of true terror.
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>Your mind moves without thinking, calling upon your authority as a God of Magic and tearing away the boundaries between seconds before your eye. You hate doing this above all other things, as it was the method of the witches in the cavern but find yourself peering through the rivers and streams of time at this moment all the same.
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>Acting normally, you were fast enough to save most of the children once the Wendigo landed. However, these girls were obviously closer than almost any in your family, and the loss of one would drastically affect the others.
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>You peer through the causeways of possibilities to see those effects and find rage in what you see. You see a breaking apart of friendships, children closing themselves off from the world for theirs was destroyed, eventual leaving of the home to hide from painful memories and travel to lands none of them are prepared to face. You see betrayal, heartache, misery, and lonely, quiet deaths in the future brought about by a shattered camaraderie.
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>You see three unacceptable outcomes, so you reach through the world on a billion pricks of the needle to change those outcomes.
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>As was your RIGHT as All Mother of the Nine Realms.
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>You are the second fastest horse alive and contacting the first would take attoseconds you don’t have.
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>With your mind you reach out through space to your Armiger vault to the dais in the central display.
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“HELEL, COME!”
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>As quickly as light from the morning son casts itself across the land does the Lightbearing Blade streak from the sky and strike against the Wendigo, driving through it before its legs hit the ground.
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>Dead before it even touched the ground, the Wendigo bursts at the seams, its body converting into salt that falls upon the earth, the only reminder that being ever existed.
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“Deal with them.” You command your arms.
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>Ishtar and Helel pull themselves from the ground where they lay and return to the remaining Wendigo, you hurry yourself over to the fillies.
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“Are you alright?”
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>”F-fine!” Applebloom shouts.
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>You feel your face frown.
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“That makes two apologies I owe you three, Applebloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle.”
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>You bow your head to them and say nothing else. Behind you the sounds of Wendigo battling animated blades begins to die down.
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>The three girls crowd around your legs, where you told them it would be safe…until you lost yourself.
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“Come, let us return you to the town…the rabbits here can wake themselves for a spell.”
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>One at a time you levitate the fillies onto your back before beginning the trot back to town. With a thought you send your weapons away, content that the Wendigo have been routed.
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>The walk back is silent until Scootaloo piques up. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”
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“…It is an older form, from when I was young. I had not…reveled in it in some time.”
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>”Is that why ya went further into the woods ta fight them Wendigos?”
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>”And left us all alone.” Sweetie Belle huffs.
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“Something I’ll carry with me to the end of my days.”
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>Right next to everything else.
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>The girls silently giggle on your back. “I didn’t think gods could make mistakes, aren’t you meant to be perfect?”
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“Oh I am far from perfect, little one. My mistakes are many, and they are as large as my statue suggest.”
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>You glance back at them.
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“Fortunate it is that this day was not one of them.”
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>Three little nods greet you.
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“I must ask another favor of you three when we return.”
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>”What?”
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“Don’t tell your guardians about this.”
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-Anon PoV-
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>”And that is what happened in its entirety.” Sleipnir says.
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>You and Twilight share an aside glance, both of you seeming to detect what was up.
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>On the one hand, the Queen was an avowed liar who, despite keeping her face straight, looked guilty as sin.
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>On the other, calling her on it would at best lead to a demoralizing argument and at worst have you turned into a ficus.
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>”Girls?” Twilight asks.
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“Anything to add?”
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>The three Cutie Mark Crusaders stand between Sleipnir’s long legs and each pop out to offer their take.
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>”Nope!”
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>”Some Wendigos showed up and she smashed ‘em!”
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>”Just like she said!”
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>”I do apologize for that.” Sleipnir says. “The Wendigo are always agitated during their mating season, it’s unexpected that they would come down this far.”
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“…Unexpected.”
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>”Yes.”
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“…For you.”
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>”…Surprise is one of the spices of life, No-name.”
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“You HATE surprises.”
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>”I also hate spice.”
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>You sigh and rub your head.
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“Well, the girls are safe, so I suppose we can’t…really complain.”
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>”No.” Twilight says. “You have our thanks Your Majesty, but if I may offer a small piece of advice, from one ruler of magic to another.”
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>The Queen nods.
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>Twilight offers a wink and a grin. “In my time here, I’ve learned that you can’t accept all the blame for some things by yourself.”
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>”The Hel I can’t.” says the Queen.
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>The Winter Wrap-up Wrap-up continues to wind down as ponies celebrate a hard days work and the coming spring. You let the girls go be with their families and sit out front of Twilight’s swanking castle.
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>Though you miss the library.
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>Pinkie Pie works overtime at the oven in Sugarcube Corner to bake treats for everyone in town.
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>The All Mother chews one of the cupcakes with a stoney face.
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>”Needs salt.” She says.
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>Everyone contorts from an invisible chill up their spine.
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>”Oh help! Help! Twilight, you have to help!” you also hear from over your shoulder.
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>”Dishcord?” Twilight asks as the chaos sprite pops into existence next to your group.
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>”Oh thank heavens!” he shouts, grabbing Twilight by the cheeks and forcing the cake she had down. “We’ve got a problem Twilight. A big, big, BIG problem! Defcon one! Maximum Alert! The end of a twenty-two film saga and three billion bits at the box office despite opening in APRIL!”
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>You instinctively get to your feet.
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“Twilight, he seems actually pretty worried.”
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>”You bet your sweet bippy I’m worried! I’m terrified!”
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>”At WHAT, Discord?!” Twilight asks.
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>Discord points up to the winter sky at the auroras and playing through the atmosphere and twinkling stars beyond. “It’s taken me all day to confirm it, but my ex is coming back! Cosmos!”
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>Discord goes on to explain everything about his ex, including her sadistic nature and terrifying power.
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>On your feet and alert now, you find your hands clenching for a weapon.
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“Right, where is she now?”
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>Discord points to the sky again. “The stars! It wasn’t enough to throw her into the moon or the sun or something, her power had to be spread out along six stars separated by light years or else she’d put herself back together!”
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>”Which stars?” you hear Sleipnir ask.
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>Discord points to six stars that you do notice are twinkling brighter and more aggressively than any others in the sky, almost with a malicious intent to their light. “Those! The six stars of the Heart of All Worl-“
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>Six stars soon becomes five when the one at the lowest point in the constellation swells in size and bursts at the seams, bathing the sky in the light of magical rays and causing the auroras in the sky to dance. Everypony in town claps their hooves in amazement at the seeming good luck at the stellar light show.
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>The other five stars dim immediately following the cosmic explosion, returning to just another piece in the night sky’s tapestry.
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>The three of you concerned about Cosmos and her return all wordlessly lower your eyes to the one in your company who wasn’t worried and still eats away at her cupcake.
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>”Next.” Says the queen.
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid