Fanfiction: Bones in the Barrel

[Flutter Pony 224]

_{(Hello, poniez :3 I hav been reading a LOT of your fanfictions and roleplays, and I have been in the mood to write, so here I shall post a tiny part of an idea I had brewed up for a while. It does not contain much gore, but it does hint it, and I do speak of alcohol, but not in a bad way XD. There might be other tags like romance and action later on, but for now, I wish to have fun typing this :3 You don't have to like it, I'd just like constructive criticism. Oh, and if anyone would perhaps (as in, I don't tihnk anyone would XD) like to add their pony I'd be happy to fit them somewhere, if I have the spot~ Thank you for reading, if you are going to~)}

 

"Are you serious?" Ancellotti's big violet eyes widened even more. They gazed at our special barrel of reserved sparkling wine. I laughed and continued in a mock-spooky voice, "And they say you can hear them rattle at night when you're all alone in the cellar." My little sister, barely 10 springs old, quivered at my tale, "Have YOU heard it, Rosy..?" Rosy, that's me, although my full name is Rosemead. I belong to a small herd of flutter ponies that live surrounded by a valley just on the base of Dragon's Peak, an inactive volcano. Its earth is so fertile we have thrived here by growing grapes for a rather exclusive wine only we can produce, or at least, that's what I've been told. I took a deep breath; the barrel's special wine reeked of alcohol and of a hidden smoked tone only the best nostrils could manage to pick up. I wouldn't have gotten my beautiful cutie mark if it weren't for that talent I have. Ancellotti, or Lotti as I called her, fluttered her wings impatiently, "Well?" "Of course I have," I continued, "I even saw father put the bones in there." This was half true. I had absolutely never heard anything in this cellar, except the seldom creaking of the floor above us. After all, this place was safe, safe from any hurtful being. And I obviously did not see my father, Vinoir, put anything in that barrel. In fact, according to the elders in the valley, there was absolutely nothing inside that barrel, and the smoke essence came from the wood the barrel was made of.

 

But I knew.

 

I knew flutter ponies didn't reign this valley always, and that there was a time where the place was governed by a great dire dragon. Our first ancestors that came here had a terrible time keeping it away from the crops, and themselves. Every day, dozens of flutters were eaten by the scaly creature, until one decided to put a stop to it. After an exhausting battle between both, where this flutter, weaker in flying than pegasi, and only armed with his bravery and mere flutter dust fought against an imponent fire-breathing dragon, our ancestor managed to break one of its wings and blind the creature's eyes with dust and had it fall all the way down inside the volcano. This happened not before, with his last intent of battle, the dragon blew a great cloud of flames all around the flutter, quickly burning away the flesh and leaving only the charred bones of our savior. As a tribute to him, our great great great (etc) grandfather placed the bones inside a wine barrel and used only the best grapes of the season to ferment around the great one's ashes. The result came out wonderful: a smoked sparking wine that not only detoxicated, but it also gave the drinker inmmunity to poison for a short ammount of time. This was a flutter secret, and no one other than the family inside the business could know. Of course, Lotti was too young to understand, but father had told me a year ago, when I had achieved 15 springs of life.

 

Unfortunately, things weren't as easy. The secret continued.

 

It seems that the ashes dissolve in a matter of 20 years, give or take a few. Our special wine is perhaps the most sold around these parts, and the valley cannot afford anny losses. This meant that every 20 years there would be a need to replace the special bones burnt with dragon fire. At first, we tried with green matter, but the results were disgusting. Later, in what we call the dark times, there would be volunteers, brave flutters who would give their life for their families and friends, that would return to the volcano's entrails and meet with death. After many hard and sad losses, the elders came up with a worse idea: luring other tributes into the volcano. There would be a ritual where they choose The Gem, or the bait, as we young ones call it. This "lucky" flutter would find a living being, preferably an equine, to lure into the dragon's den and use their bones instead of wasting the herd's. It was a cruel, devious plan. but it had to be done, for the sake of our herd. I had begged father to leave Lotti out of this bloodbath, to which he agreed. I love my sister, and she's way too innocent to stain her cute little hooves with someone else's blood.

 

"Rosy, I'm scared, I think we should go home.." I nodded and gave her a nudge, "don't be scared, it was all just an old mare's tale; now, I'm sure mother has your favorite biscuits already in the oven." My little sister seemed to cheer up and swished the golden curls in her tail. She would be earning her cutie mark soon, as long as she finally noticed how good she is at crafting jewelry.

 

_{To be LeContinued...}

Edited May 9, 2012 by Flutter Pony

[jdor11 91]

wow that gave me shivers, that is very good wighting, but i feel that you jump here and there a bit too much it was knida hard to follow the plot but other then that it is really good! keep up the good work

[Flutter Pony 224]

wow that gave me shivers, that is very good wighting, but i feel that you jump here and there a bit too much it was knida hard to follow the plot but other then that it is really good! keep up the good work

 

Ohh thank you ^v^ how kind. I haven't really finished the story, but I wanted to post a small portion of it, and if anyone likes it, I'll post more :3

[jdor11 91]

anytime

[VladmireV.S.(Crank) 1,096]

oooOOOOoooo!!!interesting plot!ima have to throw down the hat on this one...i almost finished a fanfic today but i just read this....i dont even want to finish because this would make mine look like the twilight saga vs. MLP. good job friend! hope to see more

[Flutter Pony 224]

oooOOOOoooo!!!interesting plot!ima have to throw down the hat on this one...i almost finished a fanfic today but i just read this....i dont even want to finish because this would make mine look like the twilight saga vs. MLP. good job friend! hope to see more

 

*LeGasp* Ohh dear friend, don't say that D: Even one little change makes your story a whole different idea! Why, if oy look at it, mine kinda sounds like the beginning of the Hunger Games XD (Of course, I had this idea way before I read the book, for I am into wine and elegant gore XD).

 

Thakn you though, for such a nice comment you have given me the inspiration to continue *curtsies* Again, thank chu~

 

_{(I decided to continue x3 I felt in a happy mood today~)}

 

 

Indeed, when we arrived home mother had some lovely-smelling must biscuits in the oven. Whenever we crushed grapes, she would save some of its sweet juice, called must, and use it for her baked goods. They weren’t as popular as our wine, but they sure were tasty. It also helped that our mother, Dolcetto, could convince anyone with her beautiful eyes, a bluish violet that reminded me of grape skins. My sister had inherited that gaze, while I had been given my grandmother’s looks in just about everything, from my deep magenta coat to my bright orange eyes. “That smells great, mother!” Lotti danced around me joyfully, seeming to have completely forgotten about the story I had just told her. Unfortunately for me, I still had it etched in my mind at the moment, a constant reminder of how close the last day of the 20^th year was. Father had told me the last pony they had gotten was a young foal, barely 4 springs old. I felt my insides sting at the thought of it: how devastating must it have been for his family to lose such a young and tender thing. I sure hoped, rather in vain, it would not come to that ever again. I felt ashamed of my past, and I felt ashamed of loving to make wine. I had such a thrill, and it was perhaps my favorite thing in this world, crushing grapes. Almost all the herd would gather with music and food, calling it the Harvest Festival. Even though it was about the whole grape harvesting process, the main event was the Crushing, where selected flutters would dance as they mashed the fruit under their hooves, moving to the beat of our local music and flapping their wings to loosen flutter dust into the must. This is what gave the name to the “sparkling” wine, and the detox properties as well. Two of my cousins and I were those selected flutters, experienced in the ritual and completely devoted to it.

After dinner, I took my sleepy sister to bed and helped her brush her curly gold mane. “Rosy, is that story about the bones really true..?” I gave her a reassuring smile, “Of course not, I was merely joking, Lotti; now, get to sleep, and I promise that tomorrow we’ll go berry-picking.” To this she batted her eyelashes with glee and after having successfully groomed her for bed she finally sighed and set down to rest. I curled around her and yawned, tired as well, and fell immediately asleep.

 

A week passed, and the day had finally arrived, when The Gem would be chosen. It was a secret ceremony that only elders could attend to. They would choose a young mare or colt between 15 and 25 springs old and send him or her out of the valley to reel in an unsuspecting being into the dragon’s den. I despised this tradition, but I had learned to live quietly with it, for our lives, our homes, our family, depended on it. We had never any idea when they decided this; one moment we’re living our lives, the next, we acknowledge a fellow has left the valley. I did not worry much about it, for I knew Lotti was oblivious to all this and that was the only important thing. Little did I know that Destiny had something different planned for me.

 

It was a cool summer evening. Lotti and I were resting near a spring, where many colorful wildflowers grew around it. I was lazily laying against a small clump of grass, relaxed by the sound of the lapping water and Lotti’s light but steady breaths as she played and weaved flowers into my long undone mane. It was then when I heard the distant hum of a pair of flutter wings, distinct for their high-pitched hum. Soon, we had the Great Elder, Wind Wave, gracefully pose in front of us. My heart skipped a beat as I sat up, but not because of him.

 

“Greetings, young mares,” he spoke while bending his grey head in salutation. I only nodded, trying to discreetly look over his shoulder. Standing right behind him had landed another flutter, Icewing. He met my eyes and offered a kind smile. I blushed, although it was thankfully unnoticeable. Icewing was one of the youngest “elders” in the herd, being 21 or so springs old, and I had an obvious crush on him, along with a few other mares. This was the first time I had seen him so up-close.

 

“O-Ooh, yes, good evening,” I stammered after having regained grasp of reality. Lotti only smiled brightly and waved.

“We have good tidings,” Wind Wave continued with a hoarse voice, “due to your family’s long line of successful Gems, we have decided to give you a chance, to make them and the herd proud.” I knew where this was going. “You mean, I have been chosen?” My question came out slightly choked. This was supposed to be an honor, but to me, it was plain torture. “Why, yes, young thing, you’ll be sent to the outer realms in search of our next tribute.”

 

Oh joy.

 

“What? Where are you going, Rosy?” I had almost forgotten Lotti was there. I quickly looked at her, “Don’t worry, Lotti, I’ll just be away for a few days.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I have some important errands to do.”

 

“Can I come too?” My poor sister, she didn’t know what was waiting for me. I felt rather devastated; I had never denied anything to my sister, “Sorry, Lotti, this is for big mares only.” The violet eyes on her face grew sad and looked down. Wind Wave quickly intervened, “I’m sorry, young one, but your sister must do this alone.” Lotti nodded silently, and then looked back at me, “Will you be taking long?” Hesitating the answer, I shook my head, “I’ll come back in a week; how does that sound?” My little sister blinked a few times and nodded her small head, “Promise?”

“I promise.” I looked once more at Icewing, who gave me a heartwarming smile. As the sun hid behind the hills, the last rays of sun spilled through the trees and gleamed beautifully against his pearly coat.