Post-Nightmare Night Status Update. Also, Preview.

It's almost ready, I swear. I have actually been working on it. I will have the new chapter of Apprentice ready for release on November 16th, 2022, the 10th Anniversary of my original posting of Apprentice onto the site.

No, I will not be reposting the original first chapter. I'm not that sentimental over my shit writing from back then. I don't even know if the original first chapter is out there somewhere. Not the second version of it that I uploaded a few weeks later, but the original original first chapter, where I basically copied the "Show, don't tell" scenario from the old "How To Write A Fic" document.

Unlike the previous interlude I did five years ago (has it really been that long?), this one's fully part of the story, focusing on giving each character in the past some time in the spotlight with Nova, exploring their relationships with each other a bit. Giving everyone some time in the spotlight is something I did in the other Interlude, but this time it's more serious and actually contributes to the plot.

In fact, you've already seen one scene as a preview, so I'm gonna give you guys another after the page break.

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Neighton, at the moment known as Ponyville, formerly known as Earthponyville, was a town that Nova was hoping he would be able to visit at some point during his time here.  He was eager to see how much had changed between this time in the past, and the present day.  Outside of knowing that Chancellor Puddinghead’s manor was what would go on to be his own home, he knew next to nothing about how the town was going to be.

However, as he exited the confines of the Everfree Forest on this snowy day, along with a contingent of laborers and a number of ponies pulling wagons with trade goods and raw materials that couldn’t help but remind him of the fateful day and way he’d met Twilight, the flat countrysides of Canterhorn Valley looked not all that different to his own time (though considerably more wintery than the present).  Although the land was mostly untamed and there was no direct path yet made between the two towns, the similarities were there.

As they approached Ponyville, the first building they saw was Chancellor Puddinghead’s manor.  Nova grinned at the sight of it.  There were a few differences at first glance, he noticed.  At the moment, there didn’t seem to be a round window in the center of the roof that he would later have in his own house, and of course there was no path outside.  Not to mention, the building looked brand new.  There weren’t the slight bits of wear and tear that would be expected quite yet, particularly some of the worn-out stone and brick after over a thousand years of wind and rain.

On top of that, there were no buildings anywhere near it.  There was a collection of buildings off in the near distance, along with what was unmistakably an in-progress clocktower that was missing the arrows on its face, but it seemed that Neighton had filled in the space between Puddinghead’s Manor and the town proper over the following centuries.  Off in the distance, around and beyond the collection of buildings in the center, he could see the low stone fences that indicated farming plots, as well as a few houses around them as well.

“What a strange town,” one of his laborer companions observed, a pegasus mare with a bright pink coat and a lime-green mane, long and flowing along her back, and a tail that was neatly kept.  “Who’s the idiot who built their house all the way out here, without any farming plots nearby?”

“That would be Chancellor Puddinghead,” Nova answered, pointing to a pair of earth pony guards standing on either side of the front door, still wearing the same motley uniforms they had several months back during the trade summit.  “Had the manor constructed before the townsponies built their residences.  They, on the other hoof, built their town closer to their farms, so now the chancellor lives all the way out here on his own.”

“Who would want to live all alone away from civilization?”

“It’s not too far away, and besides, you’d be surprised,” Nova shrugged.  “Getting away from the bustle of the city isn’t always a bad idea.”

“Except the Chancellor is supposed to be running the city,” his companion pointed out.  “I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure it’s easier to do that when you’re in the middle of it.”

“But that’s just what they were expecting me to do!” exclaimed a familiar shrill voice.  Nova could hear his fellow workers react with shock and surprise, but having spent more than a few days around Pinkie Pie, a little bit of spontaneous appearance was just an average Tuesday, especially after the time Pinkie had jumped out of Twilight’s bathtub shortly before he stepped in after one particularly grueling odd-job day.

“So you built your manor half-a-mile away from the rest of the city, because it would be the unexpected thing to do?” he turned and gave the Chancellor, who was currently sitting atop one of the wagons as casually as though she had not just scared the lives out of the workers carting everything.

“Well duuuuuuh,” Puddinghead rolled her eyes, with a rather haughty flip of the bright pink cape she’d added to the rest of her ensemble.  “How else am I supposed to make sure my caricatures are working if I show up when they expect it?”

“Caricatures?” Nova arched an eyebrow.

“Caricatures?” Puddinghead rubbed at her chin thoughtfully.  “Choreographs?  Chamomiles?  Chemicals?  I wish Cookie was here,” she huffed, prancing off of the wagon.  “She’d know the word I’m looking for.”

“Do you mean ‘constituents’, or perhaps, ‘citizens’?” Nova offered.

Puddinghead rubbed all the harder at her chin, determinedly trying to puzzle out this most puzzling puzzle with as little outside help from expert puzzle solvers like Nova.  Puzzle.

Nova felt a familiar aura enter his range of awareness, and he turned to look further down the path in time to see Smart Cookie dashing toward them, a three-legged sprint that was made all the more awkward by the fact that her remaining hoof was trying to hold her hat onto her head, and floating along behind her, completely divested of armor and looking almost amused at her pace, was Pansy.

“Saaaaaay,” Puddinghead suddenly appeared in his field of view, glaring at him intensely.  “How come you weren’t surprised by me popping out of your wagon?”

“Oh, I expected you all along,” Nova shrugged.  Puddinghead’s eye twitched, and he suppressed the urge to snicker.  “There’s a point where all of your attempts to become unpredictable cross a line into predictability, Chancellor.  You have to learn to be a little predictable every now and again, or else everyone will always see your random zany unpredictability coming a mile away.  One of life’s little ironies,” he observed, as Chancellor Puddinghead appeared to be going through a crisis of existence right in front of him.

“Sorry *pant* about *pant* that *pant*” gasped Cookie, sliding to a stop next to them with a spray of snowy powder right into Nova’s face, while Pansy just rolled his eyes and lightly landed next to his marefriend, who was busy brushing herself off as Nova’s companions did the same around them.

“Cookie!  Just in time!” Puddinghead immediately seemed to get over her existential crisis and turned her attention to her beleaguered assistant.  “Quick, what’s the word I picked?  The one about the things?”

“Uhh… wasn’t it ‘bearclaws’?”

“No, it started with a C,” Puddinghead sat down, folded her front hooves, and set to tapping on her noggin.  “Think, think, think…”

“Right,” Cookie brushed back her sweaty mane, before holding out a hoof to Pansy, who wordlessly handed her a scroll of parchment.  “One moment, I’m gonna go over all the goods ya brought.  We’ll unload them when we get to the market, then we’ll reload the Principality’s goods when we get done with the morning’s work.”

Cookie set to her task, running down the list of things on her scroll while the many cart-pullers took their time to rest.  Puddinghead, in the meantime, was following her around, jabbering away about some new political advancement she’d read about called “surfdom”, where the working ponies all spent time riding waves on the ocean.  Nova couldn’t help but pity the poor mare as she tried to dutifully listen to her chancellor while also trying to get her work done, all while Pansy just lazily floated along helping her out with other carts.

“Oh!  Cupcakes!” Puddinghead finally exclaimed happily.  “That was the word I was looking for.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Whaaaaat?  I always call my lawful constituents provided for by the Accords of Hamsterdam in 862 D.S. as my cupcakes.”

“She called us her ‘pastry cakes’ last week,” Cookie sighed.  “Then she got annoyed because the name was redundant.”

“Just like half the workforce!” Puddinghead chirped.  “But what do you expect when these peasants want their wages bumped up to a half-bit per hour instead of a quarter-bit per hour?”

Nova could feel himself sprout a gray hair that very moment.

“Welp, time’s a-wastin'!” Puddinghead began to pronk her way off toward the buildings in the distance.  “The big old bwong-tock won’t get done all by itself, you know!”

“It’s called a clock tower!” Cookie called after her, but it was to no avail.  She slumped the moment the chancellor was gone a moment later.  “One of these days, she’s gonna run me so ragged, I won’t be able to fix any more of her mistakes.”

“Is she not democratically elected?  She is a chancellor, after all.”

“She is,” Cookie nodded, “but the rule is that when someone wants to challenge her, the election is a two-parter.  The first question is if the chancellor should keep office, and the second is who should replace them.”

“Following you so far,” Nova nodded.

“If the current chancellor has more than 50% vote yes, then the second question don’t matter one bit,” Cookie sighed.  “It’s happened twice already.  People give Puddinghead all the credit for the stuff I get done in her name.”

“So if more than 50% vote no, then how’s the second question work?”

“Straight run-off,” Cookie shook her head.  “Even if someone has less than 50% of the vote, long as they beat everyone else, they win.  Puddinghead ran with 6 other ponies.  She finished with 32%.  No one else got any more than 20%.  Two thirds o’ ponies didn’t want her to win.  She won.”

Nova grimaced.  “Yeah, that sounds like a bad voting system.”

“Ah well, when we’re good and fully incorporated into your little principality, I guess it won’t matter will it?” Cookie smiled wryly.

“Who said anything about incorporation?” Nova asked, frowning.

“You didn’t need to, sugarcube,” Cookie patted him on the foreleg with a knowing smile.  “I know what this here trade agreement was for.  I think everyone except Puddinghead did.  Even Hurricane.”

“Can confirm,” Pansy nodded.  “The Commander sniffed it out not long after it was signed, but the thing about pegasus culture is, we tend to follow the best and strongest leaders.  And who is a better and stronger leader than an alicorn?”

“They’re still young,” Nova pointed out.  “They’ll grow and gain in strength, but I think your generals have the experience factor in their favor.”

The caravan began to push forward again toward the town off in the distance.  Nova hastily scrawled a note for the chancellor to add a study to the upstairs with a glass dome.  He also quickly marked his initials in the stone when he was sure no one was looking.

“I’m pretty sure Hurricane has already factored that in,” Pansy looked upward, toward the distant collection of clouds where Pegasopolis was.  “He’s no civic leader or politician, but he does know his battlefields.  He’s well aware that everyone has different specialties.  And between you and me,” his voice grew conspiratorial, “I think he wants to make sure Pegasus military culture lives on in your Equestrian forces.  I have a feeling he wants to teach them how to be effective military leaders the same way Star Swirl taught them magic.”

“Well, we don’t exactly have a standing military,” Nova admitted.  “Pegasi soldiers and leadership would go a long way.”

“Mutually beneficial trade deals like this make it a lot easier for everyone to get along, too,” said Cookie.  “We’ve needed that lumber for several days now.  Ol’ Corncob’s crops have been getting munched on by the local livestock despite his best efforts for months.  Need fencing for both of them.”

“And with the city growing as it is and winter upon us, we need the food,” Nova replied.  They were entering town now, heading toward market stalls at the center where a number of Earth Pony workers were waiting with massive boxes and barrels of foodstuffs to be hauled back.  The moment the caravan arrived in the center of town, the earth ponies immediately began unloading and loading.

“Be right back,” Nova said, heading toward the clock tower, visible even several hundred meters away.  One face of it, the one facing Everfree, had been completed, but the others still appeared to be under construction.  As he wove through the buildings, he drew up the hood of his cloak, and the invisibility spell activated.  Even if he was welcome here, he didn’t exactly want to be seen doing this.  How would he explain his little self-given mission?

Hiding his hoofprints in the snow proved to be trivial enough, since all he had to do was unsmush the snow he stepped on in question, but eventually, he ran into the many tracks of the workers on the clock tower and decided it was too much work to smooth those out.

No one was guarding the service entrance to the tower, so he found it easy to slip in.  Dodging the workers inside was considerably harder, seeing as they had the working mechanism within and space was cramped.  There were only four mechanics within, tinkering with the higher-level mechanisms to prepare them to handle the other three clock faces’ arrows, but he needed to avoid them all the same.

He climbed up toward the very top, finally making it to the ceiling of the tower, behind the “IIX” of the completed clock face.  Having heard from hearsay that Puddinghead had insisted on wooden letters fitted into the face rather than glass, Nova had come up with a plan.  Fortunately, the X in the Roaman numeral was perfectly sized for what he wanted.  With his magic, he cut out a large chunk of the painted black wood, hollowing out the number to suit his ends.  Once complete, he withdrew a simple pendant, nothing more than a polished painted blue wooden disc on a strip of ribbon, and stashed it in the hole he had created.

There was nothing particularly special about that pendant itself, but it had a particularly special spell attached to it that Nova knew would come in handy down the line against a particularly special shadowy enemy, whenever it was she chose to reveal herself.

With it safely stashed, Nova enchanted the letters of the clock to ward off wear and tear, the better to explain why he made an impromptu visit to the inside of the tower in case he was found on the way back (and to ensure his pendant was protected), seamlessly filled in the stash so that it was hidden once more, and with his business concluded, made a hasty exit from the clock tower.

Yes, these trade deals did lead to increased cooperation between the different tribes, but they also afforded him an excellent opportunity to put things into place to deal with his troubles in his own era.

Now all he and Twilight needed was the right moment to use it…