Friendship is Deception

by Your Antagonist

11: What if I offered you the World?

Corruption is most effective during one’s greatest moment of weakness. Regardless of the circumstances that led up to that moment, the ego is easily swayed during these vulnerable periods, and principles amount to nothing. What mere mortal could resist the temptations of the apple with nothing anchoring them to their moral code?

Somewhere in Iron Bastille Maximum Security Corrections Facility, a television held captive the attention of several bored prison mares, “...and in related news, the lead violinist and cellist of the Royal Canterlot Quartet was recently discharged from her position and replaced by---”

As the screen cut to black after displaying a distorted image of the news anchor, a gruff voice belonging to a red Pegasus stallion cut through the sound of moaning emanating from the inmates: “Alright ladies, back to your cells; it’s lights out in 5 minutes. You’ve got a long day of nothing ahead of you tomorrow, so rest up.”

A blue unicorn mare clad in a grey jumpsuit, irked by the interruption, took it upon herself to verbalize her dismay at the situation. “Hey! Trixie was watching that! I demand you turn it back on at once!”

The guard turned his attention towards the mare who had vocalized the outburst and cast a lewd gaze upon her while sizing her up from head to hoof. “Well, well, well. Looks like somepony needs to learn some manners before lights out tonight,” He began to advance, “It’s a good thing I’m in the mood to to give some free lessons before then--”

He ceased his speaking almost immediately as an eagle’s claw carrying lethal intent ceased inches away from his eyes “No, I think it’s you who needs to learn some manners. Lesson one: don’t ever attempt lay your hooves on a griffin’s property, and lesson two: get lost.”

The guard shot Gilda a challenging sneer, but shrank back and turned around nervously as she slashed a tuft of his mane clean off. He was issued a stun-baton in case the inmates got any funny ideas, but something told him he wouldn’t be able to pull the baton out and activate it fast enough in this situation. Needless to say he had enough common sense to pick his battles properly, and left the situation: compensating for the loss by exercising his authority on a group of unicorn inmates down the way.

“Trixie did not require your assistance, bird.”

“Will you shut up and be grateful for once? If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have survived 5 minutes in here. You’d probably be some fat filly-fooler’s plaything, especially since you have that on your head,” Gilda flicked the middle digit of her talons on Trixie’s horn, which was covered by a metallic cone with a small green light that would blink into existence every fifteen seconds.

Every unicorn in the prison wore one, as they were supposed to nullify magical power. Ironically enough the devices were fueled by the unicorn’s magic as well. If the unicorn in question attempted to cast a spell or use telekinesis, an electric current would be released as discouragement. Oddly enough though there was one unicorn in the prison who kept casting spells regardless. Perhaps she was a masochist?

The unicorns weren’t the only ones restrained though, pegasi and other winged creatures such as Gilda had their wings clipped every month: by default the earth-ponies were the dominant group with their natural strength, but Gilda had quite a nasty reputation in here herself.

“Fine, Trixie is... grateful...” Trixie spat as she rolled her eyes towards the ground and grimaced slightly as the last word escaped her muzzle.

‘She’s kind of cute when she’s being stuck up-- Whoa, whoa, did I just think of her as cute? I think I’ve been in this hole too long...’ Gilda remarked to herself.

Gilda sighed, “You are such a dweeb. C’mon, let’s get back to our cell: I’m in the mood for some shut-eye,” As the two exited the common room and proceeded down the corridor, they noticed a brown earth pony mare almost as large as a workhorse stallion stood in front of their cell and seemed to be addressing somepony inside.

“C’mon, why don’t you spend the night with me? I don’t discriminate on age, doll. Forget about Gilda and come with me, I promise you won’t regret it.”

“G-g-go away, I j-just want to s-sleep,” whimpered a rather pathetic voice from inside.

The brown mare cast a look of irritation upon the source of the voice, “Look here now: I like ya, and I want ya, now we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way, the choice is yo---”

“Ahem,” Gilda coughed

The mare turned around aggressively preparing to deal with whoever dared to interrupt her amorous advances “Can’t you see I’m buckin’ bus--oh Gilda, uhhh... yeah... I was just--”

“Messin’ with my property?”

“No I--” the mare stopped and began to sweat as Gilda began nonchalantly checking her talons before blowing on them and rubbing them on her jumpsuit, while an unimpressed look played across her features.

“Just get out of here, and don’t let me see you messing with my stuff again.” Gilda used her claws to gesture towards the stuttering voice, “Maybe if you ask nice I could set you two crazy kids up on a play-date... but for now get out of here, I’m exhausted just looking at you,” The concept of getting to fool around with one of Gilda’s private mares put a grin on the brown mare’s face, before Gilda continued shooing the lustful mare off.

Once inside the cell, Gilda slumped down on the top bunk of one of the two beds in the room and immediately turned her attention towards the shaking figure in the corner of the cell. “Well Ms. Mayor you certainly are a hit among everyone I hate in this hole. I’m impressed, how do you do it?”

        Squirming from behind the bunks, the former mayor of Ponyville rose to her hooves and made an attempt to look dignified before muttering, “You make it sound like I enjoy this... I don’t belong in here...” She jumped slightly as the cell shut itself behind Gilda and Trixie.

“Sheesh, its been seven months and you’re still not over being in here? How are you going to survive the next nineteen years? You need to get over it and accept your punishment.” Before rolling over on her side to face the wall, Gilda gave the Mayor a once-over, ‘I guess she’s not too bad looking for an older mare... ughh... I think I’ve really been in here too long.’

“Trixie agrees with the politician: we deserve better than this. If it weren’t for those confounded elements of harmony we’d---”

“Be dead. There’s no point in dwelling on ‘what if’ questions. The fact is: Discord failed, and if it weren’t for Twilight and Dash begging the Princesses for lenience, we’d have been executed for high treason. Now shut up and go to sleep.” Gilda’s outburst caused Trixie to bite her lip: half out of irritation from being interrupted, and half out of acknowledgement towards the validity of Gilda’s statement.

With an irritated “Hmph,” Trixie flopped down on the lower bunk and curled up, letting her mind drift off into Luna’s night, and it wasn’t long before the snoring of this cell’s occupants joined the chorus of snores emanating from the hallway as the lights went out across the prison.

Gilda couldn’t join her fellow inmates in blissful slumber, as her mind was far too occupied with her future (provided she made it out of prison alive). The sound of light hoofbeats could be heard from the hallway, ‘Probably just the night guard; he better not come in here.’

Suddenly, the hoofbeats ceased in the corridor and there was a sound much akin to rustling accompanied by some muffled shouting. Gilda chuckled to herself ‘Sounds like someone just found themselves on the losing end of a game of hide the foreign objec--” The hoofbeats continued down the hall, only this time they were more slow and deliberate, as though whoever was moving through was scanning the cells carefully, looking for something. It didn’t surprise Gilda at all when the hoofbeats ceased outside her cell: something in her gut told her they would.

She looked up to see a shrouded figure in the dark fiddling with something outside the bars of the cell, and that something began to emit an eerie neon-green smoke as it was dropped to the ground. The figure galloped away quickly which puzzled Gilda until she saw the bars which were enveloped in the strange green smoke slowly begin to dissolve, leaving only a puddle of glowing green metal. The figure, still shrouded by the darkness, cantered back into the cell; only to be met by a claw swipe that missed its mark by mere inches. “I don’t know who you are, but you’d better have a good reason for bothering me this late at night: now start talking.”

 “I come as friend, bearing no harm; now please, your talon, kindly disarm.”

“Nothing doing, now who are you?” Gilda demanded preparing to strike again

Trixie and Mayor Mare stirred awake as the dialogue between Gilda and the mystery figure continued, “....mmm...Trixie demands to know why she has been awakened so early,” The end of her inquiry was punctuated with a yawn.

The Mayor sat up and stretched her hooves before turning her attention to the scene in front of her.

The voice addressed the newly awakened inmates: “Good, you are all awake; now this news to you I can break. This you must understand: my master requires you for their grand plan. It is freedom from this place you seek, I can tell; come with me and I shall free you from this cell.”

Trixie and the Mayor both looked at each other from their respective bunks, exchanged glances and scrambled out of their beds to properly greet their potential savior. “It looks as though we shall be leaving with no delay, I am glad your hearts were not too difficult to sway.”

A feeling of uncertainty over took the Mayor’s features, “I’m grateful that you want to get us out of here, I truly am, but just how do you intend to do that?”

“Breaking in was not a simple task, but as for breaking out I’m glad you asked,” The figure pulled out a small spherical object and, after fiddling with it, placed it near the wall adjacent to the bars of the cell. “To move away is the course of action I would advise, while you are at it you may wish to cover your eyes.”

As the four inhabitants of the cell moved into the corridor, a loud explosion soon ensued, and needless to say so did the hoofbeats of several prison guards.

“Come you three, we must make haste; for I fear we have no time to waste!” The figure dashed back into the cell and stood in a new hole that led into the yard.

Trixie and the Mayor galloped behind the figure, only pausing to ensure that Gilda was following as well; she was not. Gilda casually strolled back into the cell and resumed her place on her top bunk.

“Aren’t you coming, bird?” Trixie huffed while preparing herself to run again.

“Yes, please come with us Gilda, don’t you want to be free?”

“Nah... sounds like too much hassle, you guys have fun though.”

The figure addressed Gilda again “My master promises the world for the taking, if you want to partake then it is haste you must be making.”

“World for the taking, huh? Thanks but no thanks, I was promised the world once a while ago... look where it got me. Besides, I’m kinda obligated to stay here: I owe someone. You all have fun though, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you all again soon enough.” Gilda waved the enigma off with a talon.

The figure chuckled “Your virtues I do admire, but to greater heights we must aspire. Do take care, my feathered friend; when my master’s goal is complete, we shall meet again.” The zebra gestured for the two mares to follow, and soon there was nothing left in the cell but a giant hole, some melted bars, 3 empty bunks, and one sleeping griffin.

Somewhere in empty raining streets of late night Canterlot, a frustrated drunken cellist was stomping her way out of a pub with a small case in tow. “This.... this...*hic* This is proposterous! How could they replace me? They are nothing but a group of shoddy talentless hacks without me! I started this group to begin with and they go and---ARGH!” A passing carriage in the night sent the contents of a puddle splashing upon Octavia, plastering her mane to her face.

She prepared to fire off insults at the driver; but found she was too tired, drunk, and downtrodden to register any further anger at this point; and just allowed the filthy puddle water in conjunction with the rain to hide her tears, her rage subsiding into a light despair. Upon resuming her path home, she noticed a cloaked figure in front of her had crossed the street and began to trot in her general direction. Octavia paid it no mind until the figure ceased moving right in front of her and engaged her in dialogue, “WHAT TROUBLES YO--” The figure raised a hoof to its mouth before starting again with a softer submissive female tone, “I-I mean what troubles you on this night?”

Octavia cast the figure a strange look and contemplated the consequences of conversing with a stranger: in her presently distraught and inebriated state, she couldn’t formulate a decent reason to just trot away. Something in a very abstract area of her brain convinced her that something good might come out of this encounter.

With a sigh, she retired to a nearby bench, set her small case down, and gestured for the figure to do the same. She began to recount the events from earlier that evening. She confided in the stranger her personal history of how she started the Royal Canterlot Quartet coming from an impoverished background, how the Quartet suffered the wrath of merciless critics who wrote the group off as a collection of talentless yokels, to their rise to fame. She finished her story by detailing the events of the betrayal she’d suffered at the hooves of her band-mates this evening when they replaced her with some talentless stuck-up mule.

“‘It’s what’s best for the band’ they said,” her face contorted when she stressed the first half of that sentence for added effect. “‘You’ve done so much and we could never thank you enough...’ Liars... I want them to pay... I want them to suffer... They took everything I’ve ever worked for and gave it to that little...” Octavia grit her teeth to prevent herself from going off on tangent in front of this stranger, but she couldn’t prevent the tears from streaming out of her eyes.

The cloaked figure was silent as it observed Octavia in her rage and anguish, and a small grin began to play across its features. Rising from the bench, the mare faced Octavia; a street light behind her creating a darker shadow than her hood already provided. ‘’My child, what if I were to offer you something even greater than what was stolen from you on this night? What if I could offer you that vengeance you seek and so much more?”

Octavia looked upon the figure in front of her with tear laden eyes, as though the cloaked mare in front of her were a saint in a stained glass window, before a look of doubt overtook the hope in her eyes. “What could you possibly offer me that could replace my life’s work? What coul--”

The figure cut her off promptly with a simple response: “The world my dear. I can offer you the world as long I have your anguish, your lust for vengeance, and your loyalty to fuel my ambitions. All I require of you is a song,” the figure gestured to Octavia’s case.

Octavia looked nervously at the figure, unsure of whether she could believe any of the promises this mare had made to her at this moment. She almost turned and left until she heard the sounds of hoofbeats on the street approaching rapidly, drawing to a halt as they neared.

Octavia observed the newly approached figures and noticed one of them wore a cloak much akin to the Mare who had just made her a ludicrous offer, and the other two she had seen on the news seven months ago and recalled they were supposed to be locked up. The newly arrived figure spoke up first after bowing, “My master, on my word you can depend; I have brought with me two new friends.”

“Excellent work Betrayal, were there not three?” the master inquired.

“Though I made it clear our collective voice, to stay behind was the Griffin’s choice.” Betrayal replied.

“Pity, she would have made a great malice... no matter,” turning her attention towards the two new mares, she raised a hoof towards the unicorn of the two. “It is I who have secured your freedom this evening. Upon making the choice to travel with my servant, you have entered into contract with me and will serve under the alias: “Curse,” do you understand? If you have any objections I will revoke the mercy you have been shown this evening and kill you right now.”

The unicorn babbled nervously while bowing down “Y-yes: Trixie understands, master.”

Turning towards the other figure the master began to speak “You I have no use for as one of my agents, but I believe there is another task I could delegate you towards. I recognize your talents and I will not squander them, on this you can depend. Will you serve me or die?

The other figure bowed down as well.

The master turned her attention back to Octavia, “I offer you this chance at glory of your own free will. Your life does not belong to me, but I wish to possess your loyalty: will you serenade me on this night?”

Octavia found herself wordlessly contemplating this opportunity, as her doubts of the figure’s credibility were dispelled. Mulling it over for a few more seconds, she wordlessly reached for her case and opened it to reveal a small violin. Propping it to her chin and readying the bow, she began to fill the night air with the sounds of music carrying dark intent.

The master grinned beneath her hood: it seemed as though all the pieces were falling into place.

Chapter 11 End.