8. Cast Your Brad upon the Waters
The Mixed-Up Life of Brad
by D. G. D. Davidson
VIII. Cast Your Brad upon the Waters
As Brad and Stainless Steel walked through one of the high, arched hallways of Canterlot Castle, Brad several times dropped his cane with a loud clatter while trying to twirl it.
After the sixth time, he picked it up and peered at the stone on its top.
“I don’t know much about you two-legged types,” Stainless said with a grunt, “but I think you’re supposed to lean on a cane, not spin it like a chorus filly with a baton.”
“Not even chipped,” said Brad. “Now I’m convinced it’s real diamond. Good grief, what’s a stone like this worth?”
Stainless snorted. “It’s nice, to be sure, but it’s not worth more than fifty bits at the most.”
“What’s that in dollars?”
“What the hay is a dollar?”
“Never mind. Fifty doesn’t sound like a lot, though.”
“It’ll buy you about a week’s worth of meals.”
“That’s it? On my world, this would set you for life. People would kill for a diamond like this.”
Stainless shook his head and continued down the hallway. “Boy, there are very few things in the world worth killin’ for, an’ rocks ain’t one of ’em.”
Brad put the cane’s tip on the ground and walked with it properly as he sped up to keep pace. “So what is worth killing for?”
“Your mare, your foals, your friends, your kingdom, your princess . . . and that’s about it. And only if you have to, you understand?”
“You’re a soldier, right? You ever kill anybody?”
“What do you think I am? Of course I’ve never killed my buddies.”
“I mean any, uh, anypony.”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never been to war, boy.”
“I was under the impression that Equestria got attacked by monsters on a regular basis.”
Stainless laughed. “Oh, that. That ain’t war. Lessee, there was them changelings, but Princess Cadance and her princy-poo knocked ’em for a loop. Then there was the giant flyin’ cockatrices, an’ that was certainly hairy for a while—”
“You didn’t kill any cockatrices?”
“They’s just animals, boy. They hardly know what they’re doin’. Princess Celestia rounded ’em up good an’ proper and kicked ’em back to the Everfree.”
Brad’s cane made rhythmic taps followed by loud echoes. He watched Stainless for a half a minute before asking, “Is that it?”
Perhaps he imagined it, but he thought he saw Stainless Steel’s white-furred face blanch. “Wuvy-Dovey Smoochy Land,” Stainless breathed. “We got a sayin’ in the guard: ‘remember the luvcats.’” He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”
They passed a high arch trimmed with crimson drapery, through which Brad could see a balcony with a golden balustrade. Stainless paused for a moment as if in indecision, and then he turned and passed through the curtains. A moment later, he called, “Hey, boy! C’mere! Ya gotta see this!”
Eager to get a fuller view of the ponies’ world, Brad pushed through the curtain and joined Stainless on the balcony. Into his face blew a cool wind sweetly scented with mountain flowers and a hint of freshly baked bread, and he breathed deeply in relief: he hadn’t fully realized it until just now, but even spacious buildings occupied by horses had close, stuffy air.
The sun, just above the horizon, shone into a perfectly clear sky that was already turning pale blue, though dusky pink stretched above the distant green hills, and a bright point, which Brad assumed to be Venus—if there were a Venus here—shone near the solar disc. In every direction Brad looked, he saw a gleaming white city of spires, almost all of which were of marble topped with burnished roofs of copper or gold, which shone like fire in the early morning light. Above the blindingly bright roofs stood tall brass poles hung with particolored banners waving and flapping in the wind. Below the tall buildings, he could spot clean-swept streets of limestone cobbles whereon ponies and other creatures bustled in droves as they went about their early morning business. The sounds of clopping hooves, of voices raised to call out greetings or advertise wares, of animals neighing or bleating, and of off-key pipe music all rose to his ears. He saw, surrounded by a flock of goats, what appeared to be an enormous, muscle-bound man with the head and horns of a bull. Across the way was a pony standing on a soapbox and shouting into a megaphone, though Brad couldn’t discern what he was preaching from this distance. He saw a Jersey cow, apparently on her way to make deliveries, waddling up the street with two huge milk cans strapped to her sides and a bell jangling on her neck.
But what amazed him even more than the city’s buildings or its inhabitants was the view beyond: the towers stretched for about half a mile, but then suddenly stopped, and behind them was a vast valley surrounded by hills and mountains that seemed impossibly far below, as if the city in which he stood were perched on the very edge of a high cliff. In the valley, he could see squares of farmland, and in the midst of them, on the edge of a meandering river, stood a cluster of quaint Elizabethan cottages with smoke wafting from their chimneys, like something out of a storybook.
Not far from that distant village, he saw a wide brown patch, an obtrusive blot on the green plain. At first he could not tell what it was, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, he thought he could make out rows of mud-stained tents.
“Hey,” said Brad, “what is—?”
“What’re you starin’ at, boy?” cried Stainless. “Look up!” With a hoof, he grabbed Brad’s head and wrenched it upward.
Brad gasped: another maze of spires and towers stretched overhead, but above them all was a gigantic flying boat, a man-of-war that had been lifted impossibly into the air. The wooden hull gleamed white, the bulwarks were trimmed in gold, and on the prow, beneath the jib-sail, stood a sculpture of an alicorn with wings spread wide and horn boldly pointed. The ship hung from an enormous, bullet-shaped balloon, which was also white, yet traced all over with images of hearts and vines. Around the balloon was a bewildering array of sails, as if someone had taken the rigging of a square-rigger, divided it in half, and pushed it out to either side to make room for a blimp. The sails were tightly furled and the rigging folded up against the balloon, and long ropes stretched down to several of the towers to anchor the flying ship in place. Clad in golden barding that glimmered with reflected sunlight, a string of pegasus ponies flitted around the ship like moths around a lamp.
The ship turned slowly back and forth in the wind. The starboard side was visible, and, on it, Brad noticed long rows of gun ports, though the ports were battened. There were two decks’ worth of guns along the whole length and an extra two decks’ worth under the area of the captain’s cabin. Brad counted at least seventy guns on this one side.
As the ship turned, he caught a glimpse of the stern, from which hung a gold banner painted with the words, “My other ride is a chariot.”
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” whispered Stainless, clapping Brad on the shoulder. “You almost never see ’er in port.”
Brad nodded. “It’s certainly pretty—”
“It?” Stainless cried. “It? She’s a ship, boy! Show some respect!”
“Fine. She is certainly pretty.”
“Hmmph. I take it you’re no airpony. That there, laddie, is the Solar Barque, Princess Celestia’s personal yacht. She almost never docks: usually, they fly supply boats out to ’er. The airship port’s further down the mountainside, out o’ the wind, you see, but the Solar Barque’s too big for it, so whenever they bring ’er in, they gotta anchor ’er to the castle.” He grunted, shook his head, and let out a long sigh. “Every guardspony dreams o’ servin’ on ’er.”
“Did they bring her in for the Council?”
“They must’ve. The princesses have their little summits every year or so, but the whole Cosmic Council don’t meet too often, so it’s a very big deal.”
As if on cue, an enormous banner several hundred feet wide unfurled from the top of the balloon and fell down the starboard side, across the folded rigging. On the banner was the image of a sun and moon encircled by a white pony and a dark blue pony looking as if they were chasing each other’s tails through the sky.
Stainless, with tears in his eyes, clicked his brass bell boots together, doffed his champron, and raised a hoof in a sharp salute.
Leaning on the rail, Brad gazed out at this strange world and nodded in quiet satisfaction. His heart beat slowly but loudly in his ears and drowned out the din from below as he realized that he now stood in the midst of the fulfillment of all his childhood flights of fancy. The Cosmic Council, which a moment ago had loomed large, mysterious, and frightening in his imagination, now looked like a mere nuisance. Silently, he promised himself that, whatever it took, even if he had to fight two-fisted against a platoon of guardsponies, he was as of this day through being locked in rooms, no matter how well-furnished and comfortable. He was going to explore this Equestria, and he was going to take Twilight with him.
“Why, boy,” said Stainless, “I believe you have tears in your eyes.”
“So do you,” Brad answered.
“Aye, I do. There are three things for which a stallion may cry, an’ love of a mare an’ love of a ship are two of ’em.”
“What’s the third?”
“None of your darn business.” Stainless sucked his breath through his teeth. “I don’ believe it!” he cried. “She’s here, too!” He pointed a booted hoof past Brad’s shoulder.
Behind the towers rose a black shape. At first, Brad mistook it for a telephone pole somehow rising from the midst of the city, but then he realized it was a mast topped with a crow’s nest, and it was rising from beyond the city’s edge. Beneath it, like an enormous egg, appeared the balloon of another dirigible, pitch black and undecorated. It continued heaving into the air, and around it flapped silver-clad ponies with dark gray fur and wings like bats’. Soon, the bulk of the ship appeared as well, as black as the balloon from which she hung. She was smaller than the Solar Barque, but ports for at least forty guns were visible along her side.
“She’s Princess Luna’s,” whispered Stainless Steel. “But she don’t bring ’er down much from the Aerie, least not in the daytime.”
“Let me guess, the Lunar Barque?”
“Good guess, but wrong. She’s the Selenic Maiden, but most just call ’er the Black Ship. An’ ’er crew’s made up o’ wraith ponies.” Stainless, with a deep frown now resting on his muzzle, shook his head. “Wraiths in Canterlot. T’ain’t never happened before, I can tell you that. Luna’s gettin’ bolder.”
“What’s a wraith pony?”
“Ha! What? That’s them out there flyin’ around the thing! But if you don’t know nothin’ about ’em, pray to your princess that you don’t find out. C’mon, lad, we’ve dawdled enough.” He spun around and trotted through the curtains back into the hall.
Brad turned to follow, but paused a moment and took a last glimpse over his shoulder. He spied, standing on the Black Ship’s prow, just behind the figurehead, a tall pony covered with a dark, fluttering cloak. The cloak moved with the wind, but also squirmed and writhed in a fashion that suggested it was alive, or that perhaps some serpentine thing were slithering about beneath it. At once, the cloak’s hood slipped back from the pony’s head, and then the cloak burst into a cloud of bats, which spun out into the air in an ever-widening spiral, flapping and shrieking. The pony, now fully revealed, was of midnight blue: a long, regal horn sat on her forehead like a crown, and from her back stretched tall wings shaped like a swan’s.
Like the moon suddenly appearing from behind a storm cloud, her luminous eyes turned on Brad: they shone with pale light, but at their centers were dark voids that made Brad’s spine tingle, as if he had peered into an ill-lit whirlpool only to discover, at its bottom, some cool and savage creature peering back. He sucked in his breath and staggered from the railing. He was both shocked and overcome with curious drowsiness, as if he had been plunged into cold water that first startled his senses and then sucked away his life. Without another glance, he ran through the curtain and sprinted after Stainless Steel.
When they at last made their way through the maze of the castle’s halls, they stepped out into a large plaza encircling the vast Council Chamber, which rose big and heavy like the Coliseum in the midst of Canterlot’s slender and elegant spires. Many ponies had gathered here, and Stainless Steel, with sharp barks and stern glances, turned away any who were overly curious. He took Brad through a narrow door and up several flights of twisting stairs. At last, Stainless ensconced him on a bench in a high balcony overlooking the chamber floor.
“You ain’t up on th’ agenda for a while,” Stainless explained, “so’s it’s best we jest settle in up here where we won’t cause a ruckus.”
Brad then realized exactly why Stainless Steel had been assigned to him: this stallion acted chummy to put others off their guard, but he knew how diplomatically to manage a guest. Brad fumed in silence.
The balcony encircled the entire top of the round chamber wall. The floor of the chamber was at least twenty stories below, but the domed ceiling was directly overhead. On the chamber wall, spaced every fifty feet, stained-glass windows, their complex designs too elaborate for Brad’s eyes to easily interpret, stretched all the way from the marble floor to the balcony’s underside, and between the windows were high-relief sculptures of solemn, richly clad ponies with crowns on their troubled brows. Upon the dome overhead was a painting of Princess Celestia rearing with wings spread wide, horn aglow, wild mane swept back, and wide eyes gazing down with soft benevolence. Directly above her horn was the dome’s central skylight, around which had been painted golden tongues suggestive of the sun. At Celestia’s hooves, various creatures, all much smaller than she, raised forelegs or arms toward her in supplication: among the creatures, Brad spotted pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies, as well as centaurs, satyrs, griffons, and various creatures of myth that he couldn’t name off the top of his head.
Upon the floor of the chamber, rows upon rows of benches and desks faced a high dais, upon which stood a gigantic throne of some gray metal that Brad at first thought was silver, but then decided was platinum. Sculpted with images of dragons, the throne looked enormous even from this height, too big for anyone to really use. To its right was a stark, unadorned seat of black oak. Though much smaller than the throne, it too looked too large for use.
In front of these high seats were other thrones: in the middle was a throne of gold. To its left was a more modest throne of copper, and to its right a throne of brass. Further to the right was a throne of silver, though it was long, almost like a couch or daybed, and above it hung a loose, white canopy.
Ponies and other creatures gathered onto the balcony until it was packed and the crowd’s voices formed a continuous, echoing roar, but Stainless, with further fierce glances, turned away anypony inquisitive enough to approach Brad and address him. Most of the ponies wore suit jackets with bowties or neckties, or else gauzy dresses decked with ribbons and jewels. Five goats, bleating to each other in their own language, wore what appeared to be togas. Three tall, bipedal creatures with goat-like heads stood only a few feet away. They lounged against the balcony, chatted, and occasionally glanced Brad’s way: they wore suits and top hats similar to what he had on, though in different colors, so Brad concluded that Rarity had modeled his outfit off of fashion current among satyrs. That made him feel less self-conscious.
When he heard a loud stomping behind him, Brad turned and saw a centaur, its body as big as that of a draft horse, pushing through the crowd like a ship pushing through the sea. Any ponies in the centaur’s way quickly stepped aside.
Covering the centaur’s human-like half was fur the same bay color as the rest of his body. His thick muscles looked chiseled from stone, but his gigantic head was only vaguely human: his eyes, overshadowed with large, bony brows, were deep brown with no visible whites, and his mouth and nose together formed a short, blunt muzzle.
A pony in a white tie and evening tails bumped up against the centaur’s left foreleg. The pony issued a stream of obsequious apologies, to which the centaur replied with a grimace and a piercing whinny that sent the pony scurrying away.
In addition to the cacophony of noise on the balcony, Brad detected a cacophony of odors. Every pony wore perfume, so the balcony smelled like a cross between a barnyard and a botanical garden. Brad had no chance of rightly guessing what any of the perfumes he detected were supposed to represent, so he decided to content himself with imagining.
That was, until he noticed Stainless Steel flaring his nostrils and muttering to himself whenever elegantly dressed mares walked by: “That one’s on the prowl, but that one’s definitely not. Thinks she’s a social climber, does she? She’s not foolin’ anypony with that scent. If that’s her real ’mones, my mother was a mule. Who mixed that concoction? A kindergarten filly with a chemistry set?”
Whenever Stainless made one of his remarks, Brad inhaled deeply through his nose, but could not discern whatever it was the stallion was detecting: every breath smelled to him exactly like the last.
At one point, Stainless turned to him with a lopsided grin and said, “’Cor, boy! I’m tryin’ to sniff the ladies, but that slop you drenched yourself in is foulin’ me up. Every time I inhale, I get a big whiff o’ you.”
“I’m helping to keep you honest,” Brad answered.
“You’re ruinin’ my fun. Half the mares up here are lookin’ for their special someponies, but there you are, covered in friendship, makin’ ’em smell platonic to me—not to mention stallionish. It’s a right nuisance.”
Brad laughed.
The sound on the balcony died. Brad turned back around, leaned over the railing, and beheld a gray-maned pony in a white collar and red tie. She cantered smartly onto the dais and stepped to a podium. She spoke, and a pleasant feminine voice, clear and sharp, reached Brad’s ears. He couldn’t see a microphone, so he at first supposed that her voice had been magically amplified. However, he didn’t feel anything weird, so perhaps the chamber had been designed to make sounds from the floor carry to the roof.
“Fillies and gentlecolts,” the pony said, “I am Mayor Mare of Ponyville, and it is my great honor and privilege to be the official presider at this, the twenty-first Cosmic Council of Equestria.”
Stainless put his front hooves on the railing, pushed himself up, and whispered in Brad’s ear, “Presidin’ always goes to some minor elected official. It’s a big deal to get to do it.”
Only nodding in reply, Brad kept his eyes on the chamber’s floor. He squirmed and fidgeted.
Mayor Mare began reading a list of titles. As she recited names, ponies processed through massive double doors opposite the dais, marched in two rows up the chamber’s central aisle, and took their seats in the benches. Brad listened at first, but as Mayor Mare droned on, his attention wandered. She named the countess of Vaniskari, the grand duchess of Connemara, the viscountess of Oldenburg, the knyaz of Kabarda, the dauphine of Prance, and hundreds of others, all of them meaningless to him. The names continued and the benches filled for almost a full hour as Mayor Mare’s voice grew increasingly hoarse. A lackey in a tuxedo jacket appeared at her shoulder and poured her a glass of water, which she gulped between names and which the lackey frequently refilled. This led to a more amusing scene: after she had downed four glasses, Mayor Mare’s voice grew higher in pitch and less stately in tone, and she bounced back and forth behind the podium.
It was then that Brad noticed that most of the titles were feminine, and that most of the ponies piling into the benches wore dresses. He heard many duchesses, countesses and baronesses named, but only a handful of dukes, counts, or barons.
At long last, when the benches were full, Mayor Mare cried in a loud voice, “Make way for his royal highness, the principus of Spinosissimus, master of the Territory of the Sparkling Sea, and sovereign ruler of all Aquastria, King Leo!”
Then came a spectacle. With loud, rhythmic grunts, a team of harnessed pegasus ponies hauled up the aisle a great tank full of water. In the tank were brightly colored pebbles, waving strands of seaweed, and even a treasure chest, like the decorations of an aquarium. As the pegasi heaved and pulled, the great tank sloshed, creating a trail of puddles on the floor. Flitting around in the tank were what looked like gigantic fish: four of them, each bigger than a man, were dark blue with long snouts and with crimson-tipped dorsal fins that stretched above their heads like wild hair. In the midst of them was a fish with green scales, a copious belly, and a lionish but jovial face encircled by a bright orange mane.
“Ah!” cried Stainless Steel. “Leo’s brought mermares! I’ve never seen one! I’ve never heard of one leavin’ Aquastria!” He stretched his neck far over the railing and peered at the enormous tank with a look of unchecked hunger on his face.
The mermares thrust their long snouts out of the water, opened their mouths, and sung in notes as clear as those of glass bells, “Shoo be doo! Shoo shoo be doo! Shoo be doo! Shoo shoo be doo!” On both the balcony and in the benches, the ponies were suddenly in tumult.
Stainless sucked in his breath. “Cover your ears, lad! It’s siren song!”
Brad barely heard him, and the shouts and clamors of the ponies died in his ears. All he could hear were the pure voices of the singing mermares calling to him over and over, “Shoo be doo be doo.”
He came back to himself when Stainless Steel’s fetlocks wrapped around his waist and jerked him hard back down into his seat. He shook his head as if he’d suddenly snapped awake. “What? What happened?”
“You were about to throw yourself off, fool!” Stainless shouted. He glanced around at the other ponies and added in a hoarse whisper, “They say that, back in the old days, ’fore they were tamed, the mermares used to sing to earth pony sailors durin’ storms. Sailors’d jump overboard and drown.”
“Really? Why?”
“Why? You hafta ask? You nearly did it your own self!” He went to the balcony, placed his knees on it, and leaned his chin on his hooves. “Besides, I mean, look at ’em. They’re gorgeous.”
“No, I mean, why did the mermares—?”
“Hush, boy!”
The mermares ceased their singing, and the ponies calmed. Brad glanced around the balcony and noticed that several stallions, their ties askew and manes ruffled, were being held back by other ponies around them. Apparently, Brad wasn’t the only one who had tried to leap over the rail.
The big green fish thrust the upper half of his body out of the water and rested his pectoral fins on his copious belly. His dripping mane fell flat against the sides of his face. He called out in a deep, jovial voice, “Air-breathers! Landlubbers! My friends! Today, on this grand occasion, you shall all know the bounty of Aquastria! Behold!”
The mermares dove down to the treasure chest at the tank’s bottom. They threw it open and, from its interior, filled their pectoral fins with white pearls. They swam again to the surface and threw the glinting pearls among the nobleponies, again causing a commotion. This elicited several boos from the high balcony.
Leo uttered a deep laugh that shook his middle. “Fear not, my dear friends of the peanut gallery! You’ll not be left out!” At those words, a pegasus pony, her coat blue like the sky and her mane and tail an array of several colors, sped into the chamber and, at rapid speed, flew up to the balcony with a large bag in her front hooves. With a raspy chuckle, she opened the bag and zipped about in a wide circle, tossing pearls in her wake. The ponies and other creatures on the balcony cheered.
The blue pony paused and hovered in midair when she came to Brad. She scowled at him for a moment before swooping down and planting her muzzle against his nose.
“Just watch yourself, bub,” she said before dropping a pearl the size of a baseball into his hands.
She flew off, but Brad stood from the bench and shouted, “Roxy!”
The pony gave no answer. Instead, having emptied her bag, she flew down to the tank, slapped a hoof against the upraised fin of one of the mermares, and shot out of the chamber.
Brad sank slowly back into his seat. The pony, in voice and even appearance, had almost exactly resembled Roxy Dodgers, one of his best friends from back home. Brad had run cross-country, and Roxy had played soccer, and sometimes they’d lounged on the bleachers after practice and chatted about life. Like Rowellina, Roxy had also been a close friend of Twilight’s. Was it possible that all of Twilight’s human friends had discovered the way into Equestria and the secret of transformation?
In spite of the wonders around him, Brad felt suddenly homesick.
Stainless Steel leaned toward him and whispered, “Do you know her?”
Unsure how to answer, Brad whispered in turn, “Do you?”
“Heh heh. Everypony in Equestria does—or at least everypony with an int’rest in stunt flyin’. That was the Light Refraction of Satisfaction, Rainbow Dash!”
Brad swallowed. “Has she been here long?”
“Huh? You mean Canterlot? I think she lives in Ponyville—”
Brad shook his head. “Never mind.”
The pegasi hauling the tank brought it to the foot of the high dais and then, panting hard, unstrapped themselves from their harnesses, made a sharp salute to King Leo, and flew out.
Mopping her brow and still bouncing behind the podium, Mayor Mare called, “Make way for her royal highness, the hundred and first ruler of the crystal ponies, empress by the grace of Celestia, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza!”
Six crystal ponies, their deep violet bodies and diamond armor glittering with refracted light, cantered up the aisle. Each had a long spear wrapped in his right front fetlock and, by some trick Brad couldn’t quite discern, managed to walk with a smart, steady pace on only three legs. Once they had spaced themselves out evenly along the aisle, the soldiers stopped, turned, and raised their spears.
Princess Cadance, clad in a white dress trimmed in gold, walked up the aisle in the company of a large white stallion wearing a red jacket that Brad assumed was from a dress uniform.
Brad leaned toward Stainless Steel and whispered, “Shining Armor, I presume?”
“Aye. As prince consort, he’ll be expected to wait on ’er front hoof and hind hoof throughout the Council. Tradition, it is.”
“She didn’t strike me as the sort who likes to get waited on.”
“Depends on who’s doin’ the waitin’ and why, but she don’t put on airs, at least. Didja notice the stallions sniffin’ but tryin’ to hide it as she walked past?”
“No.”
“Well, you should’ve. That girl’s a walkin’ pheromone factory.”
Brad leaned on the railing and frowned down at the princess, who now settled herself into the copper throne as Shining Armor stood stiffly beside her. It occurred to him that his discomfort around her might not be due entirely to her magic; he knew he didn’t have the sensitive nasal apparatus of a pony, but he had some vague notion, from something he’d read somewhere, that humans weren’t entirely immune to the effects of pheromones. “She might have mentioned that to me, actually—”
Mayor Mare, looking more distressed by the minute, cried, “Make way for her royal highness, Princess Twilight Sparkle!”
Brad leapt to his feet, but Stainless threw a foreleg across his chest and pushed him back. “Down, boy.”
Twilight, dressed only in her crown, bell boots, and necklace, walked up the aisle unceremoniously and alone. The room fell deathly silent, and the sound of her boots clicking on the floor seemed unbearably loud.
Just as she reached the dais steps, her left wing unfurled and drooped. She stepped on it and, with a gasp, tumbled to the floor. With a clank, her crown fell off and rolled away. Twilight rose to her feet and chased after it. After a few seconds of fumbling, she snatched the crown up and, with head hanging, made her way to the brass throne.
Brad sighed and smiled. “That’s Twilight, all right. She might be a pony, but I’d recognize that trip anywhere.” His face turned hot when he realized he’d spoken aloud in a silent room, and his voice had carried. A tittering buzz of low laughter broke out across the chamber. On her throne, Twilight appeared to be trying to curl herself into a ball.
Mayor Mare had her front hooves on her podium and was jumping back and forth with one hind leg crossed over the other. “Make way for her royal highness, the baroness of Brumby, viscountess of Augeron, duchess of Balikun, ruler of the night, mistress of the moon, and coregent of all Equestria, Princess Luna!”
With piercing cries like bats, two gray-furred wraith ponies appeared. Hooked to heavy chains, they dragged up the aisle a long, dark chariot, upon which stood the regal, midnight blue pony Brad had earlier seen on the Black Ship. She wore a high crown of silver and onyx, and she wore a long, flowing gown of filmy purple, which did nothing to hide her lanky form. The wraiths continued to shriek, and once or twice they snapped at each other like snakes, until they brought the chariot to the base of the dais. Luna opened her wings wide, flapped twice, and rose into the air, expertly aiming herself for the couch-shaped throne of silver, where she quickly settled on her side with her foreparts supported on one knee and her hindparts stretched out. Her horn flashed, and, in a burst of light, the chariot disappeared, as did the harnesses of the wraiths.
A needle-like pain shot through Brad’s head, and he fell to his knees with a groan. Stainless merely glanced at him and shrugged.
The wraith ponies, now free of their chains, but with their heads lowered in a look of docile servility, climbed the steps of the dais and settled on the floor in front of Luna’s throne. Luna gave them a sultry glance of apparent disinterest before turning her gaze to Mayor Mare, who still danced behind the podium, now with her teeth grit.
“And now,” Mayor Mare practically screamed, her voice cracking, “make way for her royal majesty, the baroness of Camargue, countess of Augeron, countess of Criollo, countess of Comtois, marchioness of Brandenburger, duchess of Giara, duchess of Fleuve, princess of the unicorns, commander of the pegasi, chancellor of the earth ponies, conqueror of the griffons, empress of Hind, ruler of the day, mistress of the sun, defender of harmony, and princess of all Equestria and its several territories, protectorates, and vassal states—Princess Celestia!”
As Twilight Sparkle had done, Princess Celestia, clad only in crown, bell boots, and necklace, walked up the aisle alone, her mane and tail billowing behind her like smoke. But her crown was not the one Brad had seen before: it was much larger and decorated all about with several kinds of jewels. It rose above her head like a three-stepped tower.
“The tiara,” Stainless muttered. “The triple crown. She’s not worn it for years. My grandsire said he saw it once on her brow, but nopony’s seen it there since then, I wager.”
“What is it?” Brad whispered.
“The triple crown, boy. The three-in-one. After she and Princess Luna struck down Discord, the chancellor, the commander, and the unicorn king all tossed their crowns at Celestia’s hooves and begged her to be the queen! One legend says she graciously accepted, but took only the title princess. Another says she cut their tongues out for blaspheming the One. Either way, every legend says the king also asked for her hoof in marriage and claimed he could love nopony else. She took his throne but refused him. That’s a mare for you, eh?”
Celestia sat down on the central gold throne, and Brad at once saw the meaning of the order of seating: from left to right, Cadance, Celestia, Twilight, and Luna formed a progression from morning to day to evening to night. The princesses of Equestria encompassed the cycle of time; only Leo, cavorting with his mermares in his giant fish tank, didn’t quite fit.
Mayor Mare ran to Celestia and whispered in her ear. A small smile formed on Celestia’s lips, and she raised her head and said, “I’m sure everypony is a little weary after all those lengthy introductions. Let us take a five-minute recess.”
A buzz of conversation arose as ponies began milling about or shifting in their seats. King Leo and the mermares blew bubbles in their tank and nosed them back and forth like volleyballs. Mayor Mare quickly galloped out through a small door at the base of the dais.
Brad jumped up. “Okay, I drank a lot of coffee this morning. Where’s—?”
“Oh, you’re kiddin’,” said Stainless. “The private facility’s on the bottom floor, an’ the public one’ll have a line a mile long. You can’t get in and out in five minutes.”
“So what? So we’ll miss something. Big deal.”
“Wrong, boy. You’re up in a few. In fact, it’s prob’ly time to head down.”
“How ’bout we head down to the private facility you mentioned?”
“No time for that. It’s in the back.”
Brad muttered, “Great. What’s the chance of another five-minute recess soon?” He took up his cane and tromped after Stainless, who with several sharp words pushed himself through the crowd. They made the staircase, which was lined with chattering ponies, and reached the bottom floor just as Brad heard Mayor Mare call out, “Now for our Council observers—”
“I knew it,” said Brad. “More introductions.”
“Just wait. You’ll want a look at these blokes.” Stainless led him to a small door, which he pulled open slowly to minimize its creaking, and beckoned Brad through.
When he entered, Brad found himself standing in the back behind the last row of seated nobleponies. Tall as he was, he had no trouble seeing over their heads to the dais, where Mayor Mare shook hooves with a withered pony with a lime-green coat and a robust pony with red fur and a silvery mane.
The mayor returned to her podium and announced, “The leader of the Benevolent Fellowship of Geldings, Chief Gelding Parsnip.”
The green pony, with a dignified air, turned his back on the crowd and raised a hoof toward the empty plantinum throne and wooden seat. In a reedy but clear voice, he called out, “May the One True Queen give light to the minds of the ponies gathered here, and may the One True Judge grant wisdom to the members of this Council.”
Stainless snorted. “Geldings,” he whispered. “They think the Queen and the Judge’ll return.”
“I take it you don’t?” Brad asked.
“Even if I did, it ain’t worth hackin’ off my knackers.”
Mayor Mare announced, “The head of the Sacred Order of Timekeepers, Chief Chronomaster Clockwork.”
Clockwork turned his back on the high thrones and faced the gathered ponies. He lifted a hoof and said, “May all those present make an especially delectable morsel when Lord Chronos inevitably devours them.”
Stainless chuckled. “In case you couldn’t tell, that’s the Timekeepers’ idea of a blessing.”
“Is that it?” Brad asked. “Can we get this show on the road?”
“Ain’t sure. I think—”
“The Bearers of the Elements of Harmony!” Mayor Mare shouted.
Brad groaned. “Oh, for cryin’ out—”
He stopped when he saw five ponies and one pudgy little dragon step through the high doors at the end of the aisle and walk toward the dais. He recognized Spike, of course, but he also recognized Paulina Pettifer, Amelia Jems, Faith Summers, and of course Rowellina Beattie and Roxy Dodgers, whom he’d seen as ponies already. Together, they stepped up onto the dais and clustered around the throne of Twilight. They looked much as they had in their yearbook photo, except they were horses.
“No way,” Brad whispered.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Stainless whispered back.
“Not sure. They, uh, remind me of some girls back home. Everyone called them the High Five. They were together all the time—”
Stainless grunted. “Those are Princess Twilight’s right-hoof ponies. You’ll always see ’em together.” He glanced up at Brad. “Didn’t she tell you about ’em?”
He frowned. “I . . . how long have they been here?”
“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that, and I still don’t know what you mean.”
“Never mind, then.”
“Lastly,” called Mayor Mare, “the personal guest of Princess Celestia, a visitor from another world.” Mayor Mare looked down at her notes, scanned them quickly, raised her head again, and said, “Brad.”
“You’re up.” Stainless thumped Brad on the back, pushing him toward the aisle.
Brad looked over his shoulder at him. “Aren’t you—?”
“Not on your life. Good luck, kid.”
With cane in hand and a large pearl bulging in unsightly fashion from his jacket pocket, Brad, his knees shaking, swallowed a lump and began the long trek toward the thrones. The aisle had not looked so long, nor the dais so tall, when he had been on the balcony above. Now the dais loomed over him like a mountain, on the top of which Princess Celestia sat like some regal bird of prey crouching above its nest. Higher still was the empty platinum throne, which Brad could easily imagine holding some impossibly huge white unicorn glaring down at him with angry eyes of fire. In his purple suit, top hat, and pink-striped bowtie, he felt like a child trying to impress the grownups by playing with costume jewelry.
His footfalls sounded loud in his own ears. Halfway to the dais, he remembered what Stainless Steel had said about doffing his cap. He wondered if he should take it off now and approach the princesses with hat in hand, or if he should wait and sweep it off when he was at their hooves.
Nervous as he was, he wanted to take it off now. But he thought it might look better if he waited. He held his head as high as he could, though he avoided looking any of them in the eye, lest they put the whammy on him again and knock him down.
At last, he reached the steps, and he found to his own surprise that he was out of breath. He took off the hat and looked up. It was twenty steps up to the thrones, and he could see now that the steps were steep.
Princess Celestia leaned forward, but she looked out over the gathered ponies rather than directly at Brad. “Young Brad,” she said, sliding to one side of her throne and making a space on her right, “there is a seat here for you—if you are able to claim it.”
The voices of the gathered ponies buzzed throughout the chamber. Brad’s fingers tightened on his hat brim until his knuckles turned white. She was trying to embarrass him.
Keeping his head down to make sure he wouldn’t make eye contact, he placed a foot on the first step of the dais. He pulled himself up and placed a foot on the next step. Then he did it again.
Ten steps up, he began to waver. Sweat appeared on the back of his neck, and he paused a moment, leaning on his cane. He could feel power emanating from Celestia. He felt as if, by walking into her presence, he was defiling a shrine: he had a sudden urge to take off his shoes and crawl up the remaining steps on his knees.
But he resisted and took another step. Fresh sweat broke out on his forehead. He could feel all of them now: heat from Cadance, calming warmth from Twilight, and a stark and lonely sensation, like an evening breeze over an empty plain, from Luna. For a moment, he thought he might faint and tumble backwards down the steps to the floor below.
Yet he did not. The various impressions of the four princesses filled his heart, but then they comingled and balanced one another. They did not cancel one another out, but each kept the others from overwhelming him. He took another step, and the sense of balance grew. He realized he no longer felt weak. He took yet another cautious step and then another, and then he marched up the stairs with a steady gait. At last, he reached the top and, still avoiding her eyes, sat down beside Celestia on her high golden throne.
“That was bravely done,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” he whispered rather too fiercely and too loudly. “Why did you do that?”
“You might have noticed how the ponies reacted when I invited you here. Ordinarily, the spot where you sit is reserved for my protégé. When she sits so close, I can explain things to her without disrupting the proceedings.”
“So Twilight sat here?”
“Yes. And before her, Cadance. Before her, Sunset Shimmer.”
“You mean Susan Shelby? What happened to her? I just remember her turning into some kind of monster at the Fall Formal, and after that my mind is blank—”
“She has been dealt with.”
Brad paused, considered those words, and swallowed.
“Since you have taken this place of honor,” Celestia murmured in his ear, “I think it appropriate to offer you a boon. Ask anything within reason, but do not ask that Twilight escape her trial, for that I cannot grant.”
Brad squirmed in his seat and, with his fists, clutched bunches of cashmere from the legs of his trousers. “Anything in reason?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“Okay. Can I, um, use the bathroom?”
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I really like Steel, he's funny and reminds me of my father, minus the military part
Fuck. I was hoping to avoid Equestria Girls spoilers.
My fault though, should have known a fanfiction based on the trailer for it would inevitably have some.
Loving the story this story so far. Your take on Equestria and the ponies in general is refreshing (something I enjoy in your other stories as well). extra points on the good pacing used here too... The down-voting you're getting confuses the ___ out of me though, I mean really? Why?
Anyway, keep going with this its awesome.
I'm loving the pomp and circumstance, and the airships were as awesome as airships always are.
This story, well written and fun, makes me appreciate democracy even more.
Brad's attitude is very endearing, and I hope things turn out for him and Twilight. More, please!
Your making this an interesting fic, not sure if you meant to imply it but seems like Brad's sharp pain from Luna's magic was not so much from the magic effecting him passivly but Luna doing something to or at least at Brad. The princesses all have reasons to be very protective of Twilight and judgmental of her boyfriend, I can easily see Celestia and Luna testing him, and Luna being much more..."traditional" in her tests. Also once Brad locks eyes with Shining Armor, I can only imagine how protective of Twilight, Shining is considering how close they are and his talent (protection). I also expect Applejack and maybe even Fluttershy share Rainbow Dash's attitude toward Brad. Heck even the common pony and the wraith ponies probably feel similarly, possessive of their new princess (the wraiths because she is the savior of their Mistress) and critical of any male claiming to love her, much less an "alien".
"Hi everypony!"
"Vell it's certainly not mine, that's for sure."
...
"Hi everypony!"
...
"HI EVERYPONY!"
"Hi Doctor Brad!"
"Okay, so what seems to be the trouble, Princess Lunestia?"
"Princess Celestia, and the reason you're here is-"
"Ah-ah-ah, I am thinking I have just diagnosed the problem."
"Yes, you need to sit down so we can-"
"Congradulation, princess! You're pregnant with a beautiful baby leprechaun!"
So, when is Brad going to meet Flash Sentry?
I haven't read opulent fantasy on this level, or shared the stage fright and anxiety of the hapless protagonist, since I Harry Potter and Eragon years ago.
Alright, did I miss it? cause I didn't see Dissy in there! please tell me I missed it!
Breathtaking, immersive chapter. But then, this is what fantasy fiction is all about--taking us to other worlds without the hassle of jumping through portals and causing political incidents.
The visual imagery in this chapter was simply outstanding! It's great that you're incorporating elements from Under the Sparkling Sea, because that book is all about the artwork, and you've captured the beauty of Canterlot wonderfully here!
With all of the titles and introductions, surely Brad at least deserves his full name? If he has one, that is.
The pomp and ceremony was also very well executed. I really loved the bit where Twilight stumbled. She's entirely new to being a princess, after all.
So yeah, great chapter! Eagerly awaiting the next!
2768765
I think the down votes are from these who don't like Equestria Girls in ANYway.
What's a Bishie?
I'm just waiting for the hilarity that is Flash Sentry and Brad meeting.
2769105 Sad, I don't think Dissy got invited to the party...
Stainless is supposed to sound Scottish, right? Maybe that's one of the reasons I like him so much.
Thanks for the Goblet of Fire nod there too, ;P
2769742
Actually, I want Brad meeting Discord.
The ending was just AWSOME!
"can i use the bathroon?" Brilliant!!
2768883 Dat Simpsons reference.
2769741
Bishounen, it's an anime term
2770280 Meaning? (I'm an otaku, but I never heard of this term before.)
Looks like the serious trial will begin now.
2769741
Bishounen - Japanese word for pretty or beautiful boy - Bishie is a Shorter version
2769597
Point taken... Still not the best way to express that given this sites rating system (implying a lack of quality within the story, rather than disinterest with a tangential topic)
Well, I do hope more up-votes are accumulated for this story. It would be a pity if it got lost in the dross because of this...Meh, on with the show
2770734 Tch to hear that word you need to be somewhat of a yaoi fan like junjou romantica (love that manga) since in bishonen anime or manga many of the ukes are refered to as bishie :P>>2770331
2771408 Yuck screw that manga I'll stick with Heaven's Lost Property any day.
Don't worry Brad, when your body finally accepts magic you'll get your own pair of wings and pony ears (at least according to the movie based on what happened to the human main 6).
2769355
I... uhh... I don't know if you know this, but a modern Shetland Pony stands at roughly 3.5 to 4 feet tall at the top of its ears. Nevertheless, it still weighs upwards of 600-ish lbs. Our marshmellow ponies probably wouldn't weigh all that much less, even accounting for different proportions (like smaller barrels, but far thicker legs).
The author also made a point of stating that while some of the proportions are still off, these ponies are a bit more realistic than they're represented in the show, meaning that our "little" Twilight's likely a mix of true-to-life Shetland and the show's cartoonishness. Which means that, even assuming a barrel half the size of a normal Shetland pony, she still probably weighs upwards of 300 or even 400 pounds. Enough to crush the life out of some poor, scrawny 16 year old if she's reckless.
While the interpretation that they magically weigh a lot less than that is valid, it's important to keep in mind that the author's interpretation of their weight is just as valid as the one people more often take (that being, the ponies weighing as much as a small German Shepherd... even though they're obviously several times the mass). In case you couldn't tell from my post, I'm more partial to the author's representation of how much they'd weigh.
----------------------------------------------------
On a completely separate, though interesting, side note a lot of people don't seem to realize: My Little Pony barrels are fairly long-ish. If you do the measurements, it quickly becomes obvious that the average mare, when sitting on her rump (which doesn't really decrease here eye-level height) is taller than a 6 foot tall human who's sitting down next to her. In other words, if you're sitting back to back with Twilight, chances are she's got height on you unless you're really tall.
The more you know and some such.
2768829
Now that there is official approval from the One True God, there is no doubt that this is truly an amazing fic. All hail your noodly appendage.
Pfft, oh too perfect. I really hope you're saving all the images for this.
When are we gonna get "Brad to the Bone?" I know it HAS to be one you're going to do XD
2773848
Oh, I didn't miss them at all. I merely figured I'd go ahead and put in my own two cents as to the author's potential justification for his choice. As a matter of fact, I don't believe I stated that you were in any way wrong or that you were criticizing him. Nor did I mean to imply either thing.
Maybe I'm misconstruing the tone of your reply... but, just in case, if I offended you in any way, I do sincerely apologize.
My intent was to promote discourse on the world-building set forward in the story, not to irritate.
2777801 cool how was your take on it? im happy to say i enjoyed it :D
He should have asked for Patrick Stewart as himself or Captain Jean Luc Picard to be dropped into the Council to plead the case of humanity...
At least he didn´t pissed his pants. Seems he made a good start which means next chapter everything will go down into tartarus. XD
And i bet alot of ponies like Shining, Luna, maybe Twi´s parents and Aj adn RD are wary adn suspicious of Brad and him adn Twi being together. Them and like tons of other ponies as well.
They just got a new fourth princess and suddenly an alien wants to marry her? No way in hell, sir! XDDD
I like this so much! The worldbuilding is convincing and the personalities have depth. I look forward to seeing how this goes.
I wasn't one of the EQD readers that looked this over, but I decided after the fact to give it a look see. I was mildly entertained to begin with, but what really struck my fancy was the care and attention put into making this Equestria seem properly alien and uncomfortable to Brad. Double points for the airship porn. haha. I can tell that a good bit of work went into all this.
Oh! It seems that "Brad" now has his own tag.
2833535
He is not nice....
But I'm sorry for.... What ever I did
You have been approved for the Good HIE list.....
but
fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/081/6/e/He__s_Watching_YOU_by_MrWizard44.jpg
I'm watching this story and If you mess it up Its coming down.
*grumble*
Had to make a new folder as well.
Click here
2772265, 2773997
I don't know if I've mentioned this anywhere, but when I need to give "realistic" stats on the ponies, I do indeed go to the Shetland pony for my info. I watched a video of some people with a Shetland, and to my eye, at least, it looked to be about the right size. Hard to say, though, as the show gives us no real basis for precisely guessing how big the ponies are supposed to be, and how they interact with their world is clearly based on Rule of Funny rather than a consistent consideration of their mass.
However, Equestria Girls, especially in its promo poster, suggests that those who envision them as about the size of a large dog are correct. Nonetheless, even a real miniature horse that size is still a very big and heavy animal. I saw a guy with a miniature horse in his lap once, and it didn't look comfortable.
Myself, for human-pony interaction, I look first to G1: although scaling in G1 is not consistent, the ponies are big enough for children to ride and look approximately Shetland-size, so I translate that over to G4.
Besides that, my understanding is that a "pony" is a horse within a certain size range. Anything below that, if I understand aright, is a miniature horse. I assume the ponies are literally ponies.
2859895
Actually, almost every indication they've ever given is that they're 3.5 feet tall at the ears, which is roughly the size of a small Shetland. This is based on size comparisons with various objects and animals. It's actually pretty amazing that the show animators have consistently shown them to be roughly that height compared with almost every single animal/object they've ever come across...
It's also a little scary how much time some fans devote to this.
i.imgur.com/Dc7K1.png
2859959
I see what he's doing there, but I can't see how he's decided that one foot is 26 pixels. How does he know it's an eight-food candy cane? Is that in the dialogue?
2859979
It's not the only comparison around, but yeah. He counts the pixels with whatever editing program he's got. And the 8-foot bit's part of the dialogue (Twilight's bit in a game of "I Spy"). There's also one comparing them to apples which is more involved but less accurate. And several comparing to various animals including a dog, a horse, a walrus, and an eagle.
Pretty much all of them end up with the ponies at around 3.5 to 4 feet. Pretty sure the animators used Shetlands as the inspiration because of it.
Mmm, that's some flawless Noodle Incident execution there. Kudos
"Coucil" should presumably be "Council".
Not going to lie here: I came into this curious, but expecting it to be bad or at the best just not very good.
You have shattered my expectations.
What you have here is an honest-to-goodness quality HiE fic, complete with really cool worldbuilding and interesting mechanics (for lack of a better word to describe your focus on the Equestrians' use of scents), all centered around a romance between Twilight and freaking Brad of all characters.
I tip my hat to you sir/madame as I make my way to a comfy chair so that I may rethink my life.
3007416
MOOOOOO!