//------------------------------// // Chapter 42 // Story: Luna's Lacunae // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Jargander Tartan set down a tray loaded with battered looking old relics of a bygone age. The teapot had seen better days, the teacups were both chipped as well as mismatched, and none of the spoons paired with one another. Maeve’s crown sat upon the table and she rested both of her hands beside it. The half elven girl watched as the affable man began to serve tea. “So what happens now?” Maeve asked in a hushed voice as she tried to keep her hands from trembling. She glanced over at Blueblood, who stood in the corner, trying to keep out of the way, but also trying to be protective. She was thankful to have him near. “Well, I reckon that Grimes and this Luna of yours are working on a deal,” Jargander replied. He stood up straight, placed his hands into the small of his back, pushed in against his kidneys, and there was an awful crackling sound as he leaned over backwards. “I once had me a real throw down against a troll, ‘scuse me.” After watching him wince, Maeve looked around the tiny break room. It was small, dirty, cluttered, and the walls were covered in wanted posters. Many strange creatures stared back at her as she studied them. “Thank you,” Maeve said as she picked up her teacup. The tea had a wedge of crystalised lemon floating in it and it smelled familiar, but also different. Different worlds, different teas. Maeve gave a little shrug. At some point in her life, being on a different world might have been a cause for alarm, but that moment had long since passed. Something about the tea smelled like a pine forest in the winter, a holiday smell. “Hoi, the tea, it’ll calm ya, it comes from the sylvan elves. They’re all a bunch of hotheads… real angry types, those sylvan elves. It’s always battle this, and shoot something with an arrow that, and I don’t like how you’re looking at me, I take exception to you breathing… and they’re wee little short folk with big attitudes. Almost as bad as dwarves.” Jargander sat down in a battered chair that wobbled as he eased himself into it. “There are other elves?” Maeve asked as she inhaled the steam from her tea. It was soothing. “Hoi, there’s lots of elves of all types… but your type is almost gone. Makes me sad, it does.” Jargander shook his head. “Bad business, that. One day, the darkness will come for us.” The tall, thin man reached up, brushed his hair back on his head, and picked up his own teacup. “Why are trolls illegal?” Maeve asked as she waited for her tea to cool. Jargander’s eyebrow raised and he stared at the girl sitting across the table from him. “Curious about trolls, are ya?” His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips with a thin, quick tongue. “Trolls are horrible, dangerous brutes. Certain bad types use them as guard dogs, but the mind control spells you cast had better be good ones. Trolls are unstoppable, almost unkillable, you chop them up and you only get more trolls. One troll gets out of control, you try to stop it, and you can end up with more trolls than you know what to do with. Course, trolls is real hard to chop apart. You need a magical weapon… they heal fast enough that you can’t rip through them with regular steel.” “Really?” Maeve took a sip of tea, found that she quite liked it, and took another sip. “When you somehow chop up a troll, you get troll coal. If it’s left alone, it will become another troll in time.” Jargander shook his head and his hand trembled, causing some of his tea to slosh over the edge of his cup. “Our entire civilisation is made possible because of the trolls. It’s pretty horrid. We use the troll coal to power everything.” “What?” Maeve held her teacup steady with both hands. “I don’t follow.” “Everything you see around you, our airships, our factories, everything is powered by burning troll coal. We keep the trolls magically bound in special prisons and we chop them up every day, and we take the bits we chop off and we burn those. They burn hot, far hotter and longer than regular coal or wood, and our entire way of life depends on the farming of trolls for their coal.” “That’s horrible!” Maeve cried in a shrill, disgusted voice. “Hoi, it is, but we justify it because trolls are horrid, mindless brutes that would kill us all and eat us if they could. And trolls are an endlessly renewing resource. They’ll never deplete, never run out, never go away. Regular coal started to run out a long time ago.” Jargander took a sip of his tea and then shook his head. “That’s awful.” Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “Even if they’re horrid, they don’t deserve that.” “Hoi, Miss, you might be right, but that’s how it is.” Jargander gave Maeve an apologetic glance and then pushed a cracked plate forward. “Care for a biscuit?” “No thank you,” Maeve replied. She looked around the room and then focused once more on Jargander. “So all of that dust outside, that’s… that’s—” “Troll coal dust,” Jargander said, finishing off Maeve’s words. Without warning, Twilight Sparkle burst into the tiny break room with a wide grin upon her now human face. She almost ran into the table, struggled to keep her balance, reached out, and grabbed Maeve by the shoulder. “They have amazing technology here!” Twilight blurted out in a voice that was far too loud for the small room. “They have a communications device that allowed me to talk to Princess Celestia and tell her that everything is okay! They’re giving me the schematics so I can make one when we get home so we can stay in touch with our new friends and this will allow me to stay in touch with my other friends and this place is amazing!” Taking a deep breath, Maeve prepared to tell Twilight about the troll coal. Hunched over in a chair, Blueblood sat with a grim expression on his face as Grime stood reading a report of what his officers had found after the raid. Maeve, who appeared to be almost calm, sat beside Blueblood, with Twilight beside her, and Luna standing behind the three of them. The ceiling, which was quite tall, allowed for Luna to stand without ducking her head. This place was made for giants. This world was a terrible, savage place, a mix of magic and technology. It was a nexus, a place where many worlds crossed, many realities protruded, and mythical creatures of all kinds could be found. Technology and magic grew together, like a parasitic weed wrapped around a tree. In this place, Luna saw the future of Equestria if things went wrong. “We found the gnomes,” Grime said in a voice that was a gritty growl. “We also found some fairy tree spriggans… they’re still pine cones, so they’ll need to be planted soon so they will survive—” “What’s a tree spriggan?” Maeve asked. Reaching up with one meaty hand, Grimes scratched at his grey temples and blinked at the girl who had asked him a question. “It’s hard to imagine that you know nothing about this stuff, forgive me, Miss. I understand that your circumstances are unique.” The big man took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Jargander made himself useful. “A tree spriggan is a tiny, humanoid creature, about as tall as my hand. They’re wood spirits, have bark-like skin, mossy hair, and butterfly wings. Spriggan sap is used for all kinds of alchemical applications, but the sap is their blood and harvesting it usually kills them. They’re tiny, so they don’t have much sap, and alchemists squeeze them in a press, like one does cider apples.” Maeve cringed, shuddered, and grabbed Twilight’s hand, so she could hold it in her own. It was nice having a hand to hold. Twilight squeezed her back, and Maeve regretted the fact that Twilight would soon have hooves again. “You have a world rich in ambient magic from the sounds of things, so if you plant them, they’ll recover and grow. Spriggans are mostly harmless, but they do play pranks. They sing, dance, and have a tendency to make merry. They farm bees and make honey.” Grime lowered his clipboard and eyed Maeve. “They will serve you… they’ll know who you are and they’ll bring you gifts like honeycomb and offer to comb your hair and if you have enemies, they’ll harass them and stab them with poisonous thorns.” “I thought you said they were harmless,” Luna said to Grime. “I said mostly harmless,” Grime retorted. “I understand your worry about invasive species, but I assure you, the spriggans are harmless in the way that matters. They’re just protective little blighters over what they hold dear.” “And the gnomes?” Luna asked. “Will do your gardening, fertilise your ground, tend your plants, wage war upon weeds, and will sometimes play pranks,” Grime replied. “I’m seeing a pattern here,” Luna said. “What do you expect?” Jargander gave Luna a grin. Shaking her head, Luna heaved a sigh, which caused her bust to expand to the point where it began to defy physics and caused gravitational fluctuations. Twilight in particular was susceptible to the effect and her head was turned by some irresistible force towards Luna’s heaving bosom. “Given what I know of Maeve, I am not surprised that everything associated with her is impish.” Luna blinked, lifted her hand, and watched as she waggled her own fingers. Then, without saying anything, she reached over and closed Twilight’s mouth, which hung open. “Hoi, this is your birthright… your culture, your heritage, these are the things that belong to you,” Jargander said to Maeve. “Your kind were stewards… protectors… these little ones were your, well, your subjects. They lived in your houses, in your gardens… your kind protected them, sheltered them, and in return, these creatures lived in worship of you. Your kind… they were like… they were like, well, they were like gods and goddesses to these little fellas.” “What Jargander is trying to say is, Maeve, you have a responsibility to look after these creatures. They will no doubt be happy to have one of your kind watching over them once more. If you serve them, they will serve you. They are good, loyal servants, and a wise master always looks after their servants and treats them kindly.” Grime set down his clipboard and gestured over at an ornate strongbox. “A princess must look after her subjects,” Blueblood said in a low voice to Maeve, “and never fail them.” “I don’t know about all of this.” Maeve’s voice was hesitant and her eyes showed her fear. She began to drum her wooden fingers upon the edge of the table and she glanced over at the strongbox. She could hear the sounds of everyone in the room breathing. Grime and Jargander sounded raspy and a bit wheezy, which wasn’t surprising, given the quality of air they breathed. “Maeve, darling,” Luna said, as she placed a hand upon Maeve’s shoulder, “give it a chance. You were meant for greater things. You’ll have help. Reclaim your birthright. Be what you were meant to be.” “Okay.” Maeve’s whisper held grudging acceptance. “In the future, we might contact you, should we find creatures like these. Your kind are getting harder and harder to find. There are so few of you left.” Grime glanced over at Jargander and then focused his hard, flinty eyes upon Maeve. “I for one look forward to working with you in the future. If you ever need help, if you ever need advice, call us. Contact us. Jargander will gladly come to you. He wants his offworlder badge.” “Hoi, would I become a pony?” Jargander’s brows furrowed. “I was a chicken once. I just remember stepping through the portal and then buck-buck-buckaw! I was a chicken! I still feel the need to cluck sometimes.” Covering her mouth with her hand, Maeve giggled, and Twilight as well. Luna had an amused expression upon her face, while Blueblood had no reaction. Grime began to rub his temples with his fingertips as Jargander flapped his arms like wings. “I think our business is done here,” Grime said as he ignored Jargander. “You are free to go at any time. We have a portal generator that can send you home without any fuss. It has been wonderful to meet you, and we are glad for allies. If only first contact could be so pleasant with everyone.” Bowing her head, Luna smiled at Grime. “I look forward to future diplomacy. New friends are always welcome. Equestria thanks you for your hospitality.” Jargander, grinning, glanced at Maeve. “I still want to find out what it is like to be a pony…”