//------------------------------// // Chapter One: Coins, Dice, and Cards // Story: Soothsaying // by Rainbooms Inc //------------------------------// Soothsaying, Chapter One: Coins, Dice, and Cards Or What I Tell You Three Time is True, Part One Sweat beaded on Twilight Sparkle’s brow. Her eyes flicked nervously from side to side, her hooves trembled, her mouth was dry. So much relied on this, and she wasn’t sure. There was the choice, laid out before her, and she had no idea how to decide. Either path might lead to disaster, and what then? And the whole weight of it rested on her shoulders, and hers alone. No one could help her this time, not now—her friends had done their parts, and trusted her to do hers, and here she was, lost. If only she had read the right books… There was nothing for it. She had to choose, come what may. At long last, she opened her mouth, and managed to croak “Stand.” Across the table, the dealer flipped his own card over: a second queen. Twilight looked down at her own hand, the nine of clubs and ten of diamonds, and groaned. That was it. Her last bits, sliding across the table into the dealer’s grasp. “Oh, I’m sorry, Twilight.” Rarity said sympathetically from her right. “I don’t think blackjack is your game tonight.” “I guess not.” Glumly, Twilight examined her friend’s own pile of chips—they might not have been bigger than the ones she started off with, but they weren’t too much smaller, either. Farther down the table, Fluttershy’s pile appeared to have actually grown. She sighed. “I think that’s my limit for the night, girls.” “You know, if you want to keep playing…” Began Rarity, element of generosity, but Twilight shook her head. “It’s fine, really. I think I just need some fresh air. I’ll see you both back at the hotel, okay?” With a sigh, Twilight turned away from the table. Las Haygas. How had she gotten talked into this? Well, it had started with Rainbow Dash. No surprise there, really. What was surprising was how quickly she’d managed to talk Applejack, always reluctant to spend money on “fripperies” into agreeing to the trip. Celestia knew how she managed that. Actually, come to think of it, what if Celestia actually did…? Twilight shook the thought away with a shiver. Best not to think about that, really. In any case, Rarity and Pinkie had hardly needed convincing, and between the two of them they’d managed to get Fluttershy to agree as well. That had left Twilight alone, protesting that she needed to finish a report on the unusual spikes of background magic in the Everfree Forest for the princess. She had only managed to get Rainbow Dash to leave by writing, under her supervision, a request for a short leave of absence from her duties as Celestia’s student. While it had mollified Dash, Twilight had been confident that Celestia, like her, put too much stock in the value of hard work to allow her to run off to Equestria’s most notorious party city at a moment’s notice. Celestia’s reply had come only a few hours later, kindly worded as always, saying that the princess had been worried for her health, and as such a vacation was not only granted, it was ordered. Twilight had been rather disappointed in the princess for that. And now, she stood in the middle of the Veneightian Casino, poorer by one entire day’s budget. Twilight sighed and scanned the casino for her friends, wondering if any of them were having as unlucky a night as she was. She spotted Rainbow Dash first, (figuratively) hovering around the roulette wheels. Nearby, Applejack was eyeing a craps table with an expression of deep suspicion. Beyond that, closest to the casino’s door, Pinkie was seated in front of the slots, looking more stationary than Twilight had seen in her weeks. As such, it was with a little worry that Twilight spoke to the candy-pink mare on her way outside. “Having a good time, Pinkie?” “Huh? Oh, yeah, Twilight! This place is great! Watch this!” Pinkie reached out and yanked the lever down again. Twilight was about to say that she thought you needed to put chips in before doing that, but when the reels started to spin, she let it lie. “Hey, Pinkie, I’m going to go for a walk—Rarity and Fluttershy know, but if anyone else asks…” “I won’t let anyone worry,” Pinkie nodded. “Hey, great!” That was in response to a cascade of coins pouring onto the floor. Twilight took that as her cue to leave. Outside, Twilight took a deep breath. Las Haygas being what it was, the air outside the casinos wasn’t noticeably better than inside, but at least there was more of it. On either side of her, the Stripe stretched away, the neon lights burning even in the mid-afternoon daylight. Choosing a direction at random, Twilight trotted away from the casino and down the street, dodging around the rough-looking ponies that seemed to always be loitering on the streets. She decided where she was going about a block away from the Venieghtian. After all, while the casinos might be all that were ever talked about, Las Haygas was a city, right? Ponies lived here, didn’t they? That meant there would be things like parks and libraries—places she could go and relax away from flashing lights and falling dice and the smell of Mareboro Lights. All she had to do was get out into the real city. * * * After what felt like hours of walking, Twilight was beginning to doubt her earlier assumption that she was standing in an actual city. Once she got away from the glitz of the tourist district, she found nothing but an endless series of identical buildings of dirty red brick. She was no country pony, but Canterlot was nothing like this place. It was an old city, grown up over the centuries, and while the streets had twists and curves that might seem random at first, they followed the rhythm of life in Equestria’s capital. But here, on land that had been frontier less than a century before, Twilight felt as if the city itself was conspiring to make her life difficult. As if the to underscore the point, the street she was following ended abruptly with a graffiti-adorned wall. Rather than decide if she should turn left or right, Twilight sat down on her haunches and sighed. She must not have been getting out of the library enough lately—her hooves were aching. She supposed she could have cast a spell and given herself wings, but the way her luck was going, she’d probably get smacked out of the sky by one of those rotating neon signs and spend the rest of what was supposed to be a vacation in the hospital. Glumly, Twilight stared ahead, looking for answers in the layers of graffiti on the drab brick wall. And, to her own surprise, found some. The newest addition, in blue paint that still looked shiny and wet, read “This Way” and was underlined with an arrow pointing down the left-hoof path. Twilight set off in the indicated direction without hesitation. After all, what else did she have to lose? There was another message when she reached the end of the street, chalked onto the pavement in the same sky-blue shade. With no real alternative, Twilight followed that one as well. It lead her to another, and another. It was not until the fifth such message that she began to have second thoughts. Stopping, Twilight looked up at the sky. It wasn't dusk yet, but the day was beginning to move in that direction, and it might be wise to turn around and start back towards the hotel, if she wanted to be back by nightfall. Doubtfully, she looked back down the street, trying to guess where the mysterious graffiti was taking her. She blinked. Something had caught the corner of her eye, just for a moment, as her gaze moved from the sky to the pavement. She looked to her right. Stenciled on the side of the building next to her, in the now-familiar light blue lettering, were the words "Just a little farther, Twilight Sparkle." It was astonishing, she reflected, how something could go from intriguing to irritating to disquieting in so short a time. She paused for a moment, glanced back at the sky doubtfully. "Rainbow Dash? Is that you?" The only answer she received were odd looks from a pair of fillies walking opposite to her down the street. It was certainly possible that the pegasus could have followed her through the city, descending to leave messages at the appropriate points, but... it wasn't Dash's style of prank, not at all. With one last glance at the mysterious message, Twilight set off again. She was getting to the bottom of this. One way or another. Eventually, the words led her to a park, a small scribble of green in the brick sea of Las Haygas. The last message, left before the wrought iron gates that looked far too rusted to ever close, read simply "I'm waiting." The park was not large, and even from the gates, Twilight could make the silhouetted figure near the center. Twilight paused for a moment, trying to make out even a single detail. Then, with a shrug, she walked to meet the strange pony. As she approached, she saw that the pony stood before a folding card table, its surface littered with objects too small to see clearly. The pony itself was wearing a coat or cloak of deep grey, and its hood was pulled up to shadow its face. Its head was bent over the table, and it was not until Twilight Sparkle stood before it that it raised its head. When it did, Twilight recoiled: the pony was deformed. True, the eyes were bright and clear. The face was unscarred, the lips untwisted. Every limb appeared to be exactly as it should be. Indeed, had the mane been even a little longer, the cloaked pony might have appeared to be an ordinary earth pony. But on the forehead, unobscured and horrible, was single dull stump, smooth and blank, as if the horn meant to be there had simply been sawn off. It was like witnessing madness, or a death. Something of what was supposed to be there, was lacking, and its absence made the whole not just less, but obscene. So Twilight recoiled, and hated herself for it. But the hornless unicorn laughed. "Be calm, Twilight Sparkle. You have nothing to fear from me. Indeed, you have much less to fear from me than from most unicorns.” Twilight shook herself, recovering from the initial shock, and studied the pony in front of her. She was a mare, with a dusty yellow coat and eyes of deep, dark green. Her mane was dark brown, and had it been an inch or two longer she might have passed for an earth pony without a second glance. The cloak she wore was, if not exactly threadbare, then worn in way that suggested long use. It was also totally without ornamentation, or even style: clearly, it was intended to keep the rain off, and nothing more. The moment or two it took Twilight to notice these things was also long enough for her to find her voice. “Are—are you hurt? Is there anything I can—“ But the unicorn waved a dismissive hoof. “My injury occurred some time ago, Twilight Sparkle. And even if I wished for it to be reversed, I know not even you possess the power to do so.” She shook her head. “No, I only want to talk.” She nodded towards the table, and for the first time, Twilight noticed the objects spread out there: a single coin, a pair of dice, and a deck of cards. The purple unicorn frowned. “Look, I know you went through a lot of trouble to get me here, but if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ve lost enough money for one day…” The unicorn gave her a small smile. “I’m not after your money any more than I am after your help. I merely wish to talk.” “Well… okay.” Twilight said, a little flattered that someone would go to so much trouble just to speak with her. “Do you think you could start with your name?” “Of course. I am Shining Upon.” “Shining Upon what?” “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Twilight blinked. “Uh… if you say so. What was it you wanted to talk about?” Shining Upon placed a hoof on the table. “You recognize these things for what they are now—game pieces, toys and curios. But they were more, once. Each tribe had their preferred methods, but all had them.” She pointed to the coin. “For the pegasi, a coin. Because there is the sky, and there is the earth. You fly, or you fall. What could be simpler?” Next, she indicated the die. “But the lives of earth ponies turned on the rhythms of nature, and so they chose another method. A side for day, and one for night, and one for each season. And for the unicorns, who grasped better than the others the complexities of the world, needed something that reflected that complexity. And so, they chose…” “The Celestial Arcana.” Twilight finished, eying the deck of cards. It was significantly thicker than a standard deck of playing cards, and the backs showed myriad golden stars upon a field of deep blue. “The fortune-teller’s deck. That’s what you’re talking about, right? Methods to see the future? But none of them work.” Shining Upon shook her head. “None of them work now. Techniques have been lost, or discounted. But foretelling can be just effective now as it once was.” “But it was never effective!” Twilight protested. “Divination hasn’t been recognized as an application of magic for centuries—not even stage magicians use it anymore.” “The Royal Academy can decree whatever they please,” Shining Upon said dismissively. “It doesn’t change the facts.” “You’re seriously claiming to have discovered field of magic that has gone unused for hundreds of years?” “Not unused, Twilight Sparkle. Unnoticed. Divination may be the only type of magic that nearly every pony has personal experience with.” Twilight blinked. “That’s impossible.” Shining Upon gave her a hard look. “Really? Then you’ve never wondered why a foal might be named Rainbow Dash many years before she had shown any skill at flying, let alone a knack for speed? Or Carrot Cake before anyone could know he’d open a bakery? Or,” and here Twilight’s eyes crossed as they focused on the hoof the hornless unicorn leveled at her “Twilight, before anyone could imagine she would one day bring about the reunion of the moon and the sun?” “I—that’s—” Twilight stammered. “Look, what you’re talking about… it’s not magic. It’s just… mystic. I mean, a magical force that can be tapped into unconsciously? And you’ve somehow…” She trailed off. “No, not somehow. It was the loss of your horn, wasn’t it? And if you were an earth pony, you’d wear a blindfold. And a Pegasus would be missing her pinions, I suppose.” Shining Upon gave her a wintry smile. “You’re wondering if I might be a charlatan after all, aren’t you? But I knew what route you would take the city, even when you did not, and left messages to guide you to me.” “For all I know, you could have left those across half the city.” Shining Upon pawed the ground in irritation. “But I did not.” She sighed. “No matter. Making you believe me is not my point. I only want to show you how to take advantage of this as well.” Twilight’s eyes widened. “Whoa, wait a second. I mean, I’m sure seeing the future would be useful, but I’m not exactly convinced, certainly not to enough to sacrifice my horn.” But Shining Upon was shaking her head. “My talent with magic was never great, so I consider it no great loss. But you are the element of magic. You have power far beyond what most could aspire to, and that gives you an advantage. While you might never see the future instinctively…” she bent her head and nudged the cards towards Twilight with her nose. “I think the old techniques would serve you well. That is a very old deck, made by a single craftspony with no aid but their own magic. Modern decks turned out on a printing press are useless, but those have potential. No power of their own, but they can receive yours.” “And do what with it?” “Guide your thoughts. Show you possibilities, or eventualities. Or more. Even I don’t know exactly how far the cards can go when power like yours guides them.” Twilight studied the Celestial Arcana. She had owned a deck, when she was a filly, and had spent a few days devising an extremely over-complicated version of solitaire. She’d even tried a reading or two, but had only gotten gibberish. But then, Shining Upon had said that mass-produced decks were useless… Twilight’s horn glowed as she lifted the deck. “Alright. What should I do?” “Shuffle the deck. Tune it to yourself.” As the cards began to rustle back and forth, Shining Upon smiled. “If I were a charlatan, this is where it would get easy.” Her voice jumped an octave or so, and became more of a cackle around the edges. “Here is the Mistress of Silence, the Drowned Sailor, and the Broken Path! Fear death by water!” She laughed as Twilight finished and placed the cards back on the table. “What now?” “Well… if this were a reading, this is when you would choose the question you wanted answered. But I think a demonstration is in order, first. Let’s see how well these cards know you. Don’t bother to come up with a question, just start drawing.” Twilight flipped over the first card, laying it on the table. “The Mistress of Gems,” Shining Upon pronounced. A second card followed. “The Knave of Clouds.” Twilight faintly remembered that a simple reading was supposed to be only three cards, and looked up after the third was revealed. “The Humble Merchant.” Shining Upon frowned. “I don’t think this is a complete reading, yet. Do you?” Twilight shook her head. She could feel it too: the cards on the table were only half of a complete thought. She drew the next card. “The Fool.” Suddenly, Twilight saw it. As she placed the Fool beside the other cards, she caught something in the smile of the pony upon the card’s face. It was familiar, and as she recognized it one card, aspects of the others leapt to her attention. The haughty stare of The Mistress of Gems, the Knave of Clouds’ smirk, the set jaw of the Humble Merchant. She knew them each as she knew her own face in the mirror. When the fifth card, which Shining Upon named the Maiden of the Forest, sported a familiar averted gaze, she was not surprised, and it was with a sense of finality that she drew the sixth. “The Magician.” Shining Upon’s gaze flicked across the cards laid out on the table. “I don’t think I need to interpret this for you, do I?” “No,” Twilight said as she swept the cards back into the deck, “you don’t. But now I think it’s time for a real test. It’s time to see the future.” “Indeed. However, if you also wish to see your friends tonight, I’m afraid it must wait. Rarity is looking for you, and you must head towards the gates now if you wish to meet her.” Twilight blinked, nonplussed. “But… aren’t you supposed to teach me how this works? I don’t know the first thing about what these cards mean.” “It’s not about what they mean. It’s about what they mean to you. Never fear, Twilight Sparkle. If you’re half as clever as I’ve heard, deciphering the cards will be foal’s play for you.” Shining Upon looked ruminatively up at the sky. “I believe it’s time for you to go. Keep the Celestial Arcana, as a gift. Farewell.” There was a finality in the hornless unicorn’s voice that made Twilight turn away, despite her unspoken questions. Taking the cards in a magical grip, she trotted for the exit of the park, her shadow streaming out behind her as the city slipped into dusk. On the street outside, she was nearly knocked down by Rarity, who skidded to a stop just in time. “Twilight, darling, I’ve been looking all over for you!” “You didn’t have too—I can find my own way back to the hotel.” Probably, Twilight added in the privacy of her head. “Well, that’s just it: we’re not staying at the hotel. Our luggage has been moved to the Veneightian’s High Roller suite.” Even with her head full of cards, Twilight started. “A suite? Why?” “Well…” Rarity coughed. “It’s a terribly long story. But, really, I suppose it comes down to the fact that Fluttershy is rather good at Blackjack.” * * * Twilight was quiet most of the way back to the Veneightian, turning Shining Upon’s words over in her mind. She wasn’t quite sure if she believed the strange unicorn, not yet, but she wasn’t about to discount everything she said, either. She’d hold onto the cards, conduct some research of her own, and see what came of it. Maybe she could even ask Princess Celestia about the old augurs. At the thought of her mentor, Twilight brightened. That was an idea: here was an original project, something no living pony had accomplished. If she could reproduce by study what Shining Upon could do by chance, it would be a major advancement in magical theory. Something like that would prove to the princess that her time educating Twilight had not been wasted. The unicorn’s train of thought was violently derailed when she and Rarity reached the room on one of the Venieghtian’s upper floors. Twilight had just stepped through the door when she heard someone shout her name, and then she was thrown from her hooves as something slammed into her from the left. “Twilight! You’re back!” Rainbow Dash stood above the fallen unicorn, smiling hugely. She reached out and tapped Twilight’s nose with a hoof. “We were worried about you!” Twilight’s eyes watered as Rainbow’s breath washed over her. The pegasus was very drunk… which probably explained why Applejack’s hat was perched rakishly on her head. “Rainbow, let the poor pony up,” Applejack drawled from somewhere across the room. “You’re no fun,” Rainbow Dash huffed as she walked away, allowing Twilight to climb to her hooves. The High Roller suite was enormous, with wine-red walls and a vaulted ceiling. A glittering chandelier cast golden light across the room, and shook, just little: Pinkie Pie was bouncing on the four-poster bed set against one wall. Fluttershy was watching her, Rainbow was heading in that direction, and Applejack was watching from behind the bar on the opposite side of the room. Collecting her scattered cards, Twilight walked towards the collection of glittering bottles, Rainbow Dash’s condition no longer a mystery. “What can ah get yah, sugarcube?” Applejack waved a hoof at the shelf behind her. A half-full glass rested on the counter in front of her, and Twilight nudged another (Rainbow Dash’s, presumably) out of the way as she sat down. The unicorn glanced over her shoulder. Rainbow had joined Pinkie in testing the springiness of the Veneightian’s bed. As Twilight watched, she bounced a little too high and caught in the chandelier with a startled yelp and a lot of jingling. As Applejack’s hat drifted lazily down, Twilight turned back to the earth pony with a tired smile. “I’ll have what she’s having.” A couple of drinks later, and the Celestial Arcana lay forgotten on the bartop. Twilight had decided that Applejack had the right idea, and was leaning against the bar watching the rest of her friends across the room. Rarity looked half-asleep, staring dreamily out at the Las Haygas cityscape. Rainbow Dash, not the least discouraged by her brief imprisonment in the chandelier, had joined forces with Pinkie Pie in an attempt to get Fluttershy to partake in the not-to-be-missed bounciness of the enormous bed. “C’mon, ‘shy, what are you worried about?” the pegasus was saying. “After all, you have a couple of big, strong, mares down here to catch you!” She gave Pinkie a nudge that almost knocked the earth pony over. “I don’t know…” Fluttershy eyed the vaulted ceiling with some trepidation. “There’s nothing be scared of. It’s fun!” Pinkie chirped. “Yeah, exactly. Fun. Ya know, the whole reason we’re in this city.” Rainbow Dash spread her hooves expansively. “Live a little, ‘shy. It’s what Las Haygas is for.” “Okay... if you say so.” Carefully, the pale yellow pegasus climbed onto the bed, stepping lightly. “Alright, now make sure your hooves are steady,” Pinkie instructed, dropping into a crouch, “kinda get down like this,” she continued as Fluttershy hesitantly copied her, “and bounce!” The combination of Pinkie’s enthusiasm and Fluttershy’s nerves resulted in the two ponies ending up at roughly eye level in mid-air. “Again!” the earth pony commanded as soon as her hooves were back on solid ground. The second time, Fluttershy, aided by the bed’s natural springiness, managed to get fractionally more altitude than her friend. “One more time!” Pinkie cheered. As Fluttershy reached the peak of her jump, Rainbow Dash gave an appreciative whistle. “That’s the spirit, ‘shy!” “Thanks, R—“ Fluttershy said, glancing down at her friend. Across the room, Twilight winced as she saw Fluttershy’s eyes widen. Then, with a squeak, the pegasus tumbled out of the air to land square on Pinkie’s back. The earth pony was back on her feet again almost instantly, even while Fluttershy stammered out apologies, and Rainbow Dash was laughing so hard that she had to throw a hoof around her friends’ necks to keep from toppling over. Twilight glanced over her shoulder at Applejack. “She looks like she’s having a good time.” “That’s m’ Rainbow. I need a little more green under mah hooves, but this town was made for ponies like her,” Applejack said with a chuckle. “Does it ever bother you, though?” Applejack frowned. “That Rainbow’s a little flighty? Comes with the territory for a pegasus, sugarcube.” “No, I mean,” Twilight waved a hoof, the gesture only slightly exaggerated. “how she’s such a touchy-feely drunk. I mean,” she said again, faltering in the face of the Applejack’s blank look, “she just kinda jumped on me when I walked in. If she were my fillyfriend—I mean, if I had a fillyfriend, I think I might get kinda jealous.” Applejack laughed. “Twilight, she’s the element of loyalty. Ah might have to worry about a lotta things—like her driving me grey before mah time—but ah don’t think ah’ll ever have to worry about that.” On the other side of the room, the commotion had roused Rarity from her reverie. The unicorn was not pleased. “It’s like rooming with a pack of animals!” she was saying. “Honestly, our first night in a nice hotel, and you have already have your heart’s set on destroying our room!” “Celestia’s teeth, it’s a casino, not the Glitz…” Rainbow Dash muttered. “And you!” Rarity shouted, rounding on the pegasus. “What have you been drinking? Furniture polish?” Rainbow Dash opened her mouth, closed it again, and looked thoughtful. “Well… it didn’t taste like furniture polish.” A handful of seconds later, and the drunken pegasus was floating towards the bar, suspended in a pure a white aura. “Y’alright there, sugarcube?” Applecjak enquired. “Rarity says I need to sober up.” Rainbow Dash sulked. As she spoke, Rarity withdrew her magic, and Rainbow dropped to the ground with a muffled curse. Twilight, losing her own battle against alcohol, giggled. “Gee, Rainbow, what gave her that idea?” “Hey, now” Rainbow Dash huffed, leveling a hoof several inches to Twilight’s left, “I’ll have you know I’m great at holding my locker. Lacquer.” “Liquor?” Twilight corrected. “Hey, great idea! C’mere, AJ.” The earth pony batted her fillyfriend’s hooves away. “That’s just about enough of that. Seems to me Rarity’s right: let’s get you some water, sugarcube.” Later, as the six ponies settled in for the night, Twilight watched Rainbow Dash drape a wing over Applejack. As the earth pony snuggled close to her fillyfriend, Twilight sighed. It would be nice, she reflected, to be held like that, once in a while. Her thoughts left Las Haygas, flew across the breadth of slumbering Equestria, to Canterlot. Maybe, Twilight thought as sleep claimed her, maybe someday.