Mommy
>you shift your legs as you look up at her gentle ruby eyes
>moving just far enough from her tuft to see her face which previously shielded you
>a single fang poking out from her content then curious smile
>"Vhat is it my little bat?"
>she asks in that lilting drawn out accent before nuzzle your head
Why do other ponies not like us?
>her eyes go wide and her expression becomes sad
>you didn't like seeing mom sad but you had to ask
>"But nonny, the ponies in the castle like us."
>that's true but you weren't talking about them
>especially because they all looked like mommy, were see through or skeletons
>you saw how ponies in the village acted when they met with her
>last week a mob came with torches
>why did they not like her
>she was the world's best mom?
>a soft velvety wings pulls you close allowing her to nuzzle your head
>"Anon, I.. mommy is different from other ponies."
Like how you don't show up in mirrors? Or why you don't like going out at daytime?
>"Exactly... and other... more important things. Ponies as you know... they fear vhat they cannot understand.. now more than ever."
>she gets up to look out the windows her hair flows like a blood waterfall
>"My kind vere gods once, worshipped and feared by the masses."
>her wings flare casting an impossibly large shadow over the room
>"I had led empires to greatness and plunged more into ruin."
>her voice is more intense as an uneven stone is crushed into a fine powder by her hoof
>"Ours was the hoof that guided civilization since the dawn of time."
>"But now... now ve are monsters.. hunted down and exterminated by those ve helped to create!"
>"I Ningal Shapsu, Helia Philomator, Celestia invictus! Bringer of light, creator of writing and sacker of cities am forced to live on the outskirts! As a mere countess!"
>her voice is bitter, almost hateful
>her teeth seem longer
>as much as you love her she's a bit scary like this
>so scary you begin to involuntarily shiver
>mom stops
>she turns around with a sigh her eyes softening and a fragile smile returning to her face as she approached you
>"But you know vhat? I do not wish to go back to those days."
W-why?
"Because, soare, even the joy of of holding the world in my hooves is nothing compared to the joy I feel getting to raise you."
(She calls him Sunshine in Romanian because he reminds her of vague memories of going into it as a mortal when it warmed her instead of weakened her.)
