12. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Two
The Conversion Bureau
HUMAN
in Equestria
By Chatoyance
12. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part Two
Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.
The group had walked in silence down the long, curving corridor that circled one of the enormous minaret towers that rose high above the interwoven halls, wards, and keeps below. Canterlot castle was a vast structure built less as a defensive fortress than as a great and luxurious palace. It was of some note that the castle was larger than the city below it, and held more rooms than all the shops and houses surrounding the incredible, cliffside megastructure.
Once again, they had to wait for a short time to allow Sergey to rest. Canterlot had been built for ponies, but especially for the princesses, to whom distance was never an issue, and furlongs of corridor were as nothing. Occasionally, castle staff could be seen going about their duties - cleaning, arranging rooms for guests, changing decorations and artworks to keep things novel and interesting, and even altering the colors of walls and drapes for the benefit of future guests.
Before they moved on, Sergey watched with some interest a unicorn maintenance worker using the magic of his horn to alter some long, hanging decorative banners from purple to green. The unicorn concentrated as the new color spread through the fabric, rippling up from the bottom of the banner to its top, some sixty feet above him. Inside his head, Sergey mentally calculated the distance as around two hundred hooves. He had been carefully studying for this day.
At the threshold to the Waiting Room, the princesses stopped.
"Prithy move thee naught, and bide thee here, save that we do summon thee. Our work is dire and great is the risk to thee and thy companions should thou prove distraction unto us. Thou shouldst consider this chamber as a sanctum, let neither hoof nor curiosity lead thee to ruinous ingress. When our work be done, thou wilt be called forth, to greet and mingle as thou desireth." Luna nodded at her sister.
"Sergey Brin has been promised a moment to speak to his son, before he receives remedial ponification himself. He will be called first, and will enter alone if all goes well." Celestia gave Sergey a look, to which he nodded, and then the two royal sisters entered the chamber of statues.
Peridot stared through the entrance at her granite son, perpetually crawling in horror from a killing frost. She hung her head, eyes squeezed shut, soundlessly mouthing something. Crimson noted that Celestia looked briefly back, directly at Peridot, before turning once again to the statue of Asher.
When Peridot opened her eyes and raised her head, Crimson felt the desire to comfort the unicorn mare. "I feel quite certain that Milo will be overjoyed to see you here, Peridot. I truly do."
Peridot studied the little filly. "And what, pray tell, makes you think that? Did Milo speak to you of me?"
Crimson shook her head. "No. Milo was not very talkative during our journey at all. But I do know this much - though I had every reason to believe otherwise, when I first found myself alive and on my hooves, the first thing I did was to look around in the vain hope that my parents might be there to greet me. I think this to be the first wish of any foal, and I cannot think otherwise of your Milo." Peridot still seemed doubtful. "I am very, very happy with my new mother, but even so, I still find myself sometimes wishing to even be acknowledged by my original parents. I cannot believe Milo would be anything but grateful for your presence here."
The grass-green mare's eyes almost betrayed restrained sorrow before her deeply ingrained formality won. "You know nothing of me, or my colt, but I appreciate that you are attempting to speak from kindness." Peridot's silver-gray tail swished sharply, as if it were discharging emotion itself. "I can only hope that you... are right."
Within the Waiting Room, the diarchs of Equestria wrestled with primal thaumaturgical forces. Two statues had been converted from stone to perishing flesh, and then that flesh had been wreathed in dweomer as the princesses went into some kind of supernal trance.
As the five spectators peered through the open doorway, the horrifically injured bodies of Asher Brin and Milo Cameron were suspended in the air, while ribbons and tendrils of brightly glowing magic dissolved away dead flesh and dying bone. Both boys hung in the air, Milo sans legs and fingers and much of his face, Asher missing much more than that. Both pony and human could not long gaze at this, for the sight of exposed nerve and muscle was disturbing in the extreme.
This was the moment of truth for Milo and Asher. Even now, Crimson and Morning realized, the princesses would be communing with the two boys, deep inside their minds, asking them the single question that would determine whether they would live as magical ponies, or perish as unalloyed examples of mortal humanity.
Asher Brin was walking.
His backpack was very heavy, filled with water and nanopacks of self-reconstituting food. He also had a medical kit, a self-constructing shelter, spare clothing, a holopad, his personal netlink, and a spare netlink (just in case), a portable heater, his climbing boots and belay gloves, rope, carabiners and pitons, quickdraws and hammer and bolts.
In the very bottom of the pack, where his uncle could never see, was Lilly the Leopard. Lilly was his only true friend. Lilly cared. Lilly understood. Lilly was love.
Once, all of Antarctica was covered in ice. The bare, cool landscape was devoid of plant or animal, but it was free of ice now. It was the last place on the earth where cold breezes still blew, and untainted soil could still be found. The domes were miles behind now, as Asher left boot prints on endless rocky and bare ground that no human had ever trod before.
"Equestria looked just like this, once, you know. Jagged rock and sterile gravel. The sky wasn't blue yet, it was churning chaos. Luna and I hadn't figured out what to do about the sky yet."
Asher froze in shock and confusion. The princess of the sun was hiking beside him! That was impossible, she couldn't be here until Equestria arrived, and that wouldn't happen for another year...
"W-What... how... what's going on?" Asher looked around at the barren landscape, the rugged, jutting mountains of solid, bare rock, and the endless miles of gravel and stone. He slapped at his jacket and his legs, feeling the blows from his own hands. He touched his face. It wasn't a dream. It couldn't be a dream, could it? It seemed so real.
Finally, Asher's gaze focused on the princess alone. "You left." The words were quiet, but behind them was a vast reservoir of penned up anger and betrayal. "You just... left."
Infinite compassion, and deep sorrow met Asher's eyes. "I had no choice. I was bound by the terms of the Covenant, I..."
"To hell with the Covenant! I'm only a kid! I needed you! You were the only good thing... the only... good..." Asher was on his knees in the gravel, his hands clawing at the stones. His back heaved with his sobs. "You left... you just up and... just like that... after all that..."
Asher clung to the nuzzling head. He wrapped his hands around the great, graceful, milk-white neck and soaked silken hair with anguished tears. "It was so hard, oh Celestia, it was so hard... you just left and... dad... and all the family stuff... and Lilly. Oh, poor Lilly..."
The memory of his father tearing his stuffed toy leopard into shreds brought on wracking tears. "I... hated you. I hated you so much..."
"I know." Celestia lay carefully down on the endless, barren gravel and held the boy in her forelegs.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Asher clung to the princess as if he would never let go. "You left. I know you explained, I know why... you didn't want to, I know... but... you left."
"Would you like to be a pony? Would you like to be a colt and run free through tender grasses? Feel the wind through your mane and ears as you gallop over acres of green? Do you still want to be my little pony, Asher Brin?"
"Call me Swiftwind, please? Like before? Like when we talked late at night?" Asher and the ghostly princess could only speak true late at night, behind his door, when his father was far, and sound would not carry. For months, Asher had been little 'Swiftwind', imagining himself as a colt in Equestria, a unicorn that could chase the very breeze, and who played with little animal friends by a pond surrounded by flowers. Night after night, the shared storytelling gave the child the only genuine joy he had ever known.
And then the Covenant had finally been signed, and Celestia had been forced by human commandment to go away and never contact any child of the Good Families again.
"I never forgot about you, Swiftwind. But I am bound by the agreements I make. I would not be worthy of having Equestria in my care if I could not be trusted to keep my word. That is the only reason I left you. I was forced against my will, by what was necessary to save the humans of the earth." Celestia was warm against Swiftwind's cheek.
He wrapped his forelegs around hers and sighed. She was back. She had come back for him.
Swiftwind raised his head. He found himself laying on the floor of a great marble chamber. Above him, a dome with an inlaid design of sun and moon gleamed in the light. Celestia towered above his new, pony body, as the last rippling glow of the princess's magic was withdrawn from his reborn flesh.
He stared at his new hooves, dark blue, his favorite color. By his shadow, he could see he was a unicorn. He truly was Swiftwind now, just as he had wished for, just as he had imagined out loud to Celestia, every night, for four of the six months she had been with him. His favorite bedtime story had come true.
"Try to stand, Swiftwind. Do not fear, I will support you." Golden light covered his barrel, and Swiftwind felt a solid grasp that he knew would never let him fall. As he clumsily rose to his hooves, he noticed princess Luna streaming silver magic to a mass suspended in the air.
"Celestia?" Swiftwind stood, his legs only a little shaky. "Who... is that?"
Milo heard his footsteps echoing down the long hallway. The Conciergerie had been taken over and partially rebuilt. What was left of it was now surrounded by plascrete walls fifty feet high, patrolled constantly by Blackmesh guards. His mother was using the ruin for her purposes, which left him to explore the forbidden parts to alleviate his boredom.
La Conciergerie had once been part of a palace, or a prison - Milo didn't really care which - and this made it somewhat interesting. It wasn't Antarctica, though. Paris was hot, like most of the world was hot, and smoggy, and dirty and awful. Milo was upset, as usual. He missed his total immersion tank, he missed the excitement of exploring the hypernet, of all the virtual worlds and all of his virtual friends.
Instead, he had to put up with the peasant brats that belonged to the Blackmesh families. He couldn't stand the little creeps. They didn't know anything interesting, the most that any of them understood about the hypernet was that it could be watched from a public kiosk, not a single one of them had ever gone truly virtual. Worse, they played with their hands and feet, roughhousing like brutes. One had even struck him, once. It made Milo want to kill them. They should be killed. The lot of them.
Mother handled the scientific and research concerns of the Good Families. It had its benefits - this was why Milo enjoyed the fanciest and most up-to-date hypernet tank in existence. Mother needed it, and he got to use it when she didn't need it. Life had been good in Antarctica. But then the bubble showed up.
Apparently it was some kind of dimension thing, out in the Pacific Ocean. The head of the Families wanted it properly destroyed, and for the last few weeks that had meant having to deal with the endless filthy ruins of this old castle-prison place, while mother worked out whatever it was she had to work out. Apparently they had moved all sorts of science stuff here, when things got bad.
Milo also missed his books. He had real books, made of paper and everything, back in Antarctica. Stories of adventure and magical worlds, science fiction tales and cartoon books too. Books were wonderful. Milo loved the smell of them, and the fact they were rare. He wished they had been new, of course, but even if they were old, they were still beautiful. And they were his. He owned them, and they were solid and real.
That was the one problem with diving into the hypernet. The worlds were incredible, and they could be seen, and heard, and felt, but it was impossible to bring anything back. Printing out virtual objects always disappointed him. The finished wand or gun or magical orb felt real, and it glowed or flashed or made noises as if it were real, but it was always just a toy. Inside the hypernet, Milo could ride dragons and cast spells and fly starships, but in the real world, no matter how hard he tried, the objects he printed out never did what they could do in the virtual world.
Milo kicked at a chunk of stone. Half of the face of a cherub adorned the broken bit of masonry. This part of the Conciergerie was off limits, because it was unstable. At least he could be alone here. He hoped the bubble in the sea would get destroyed soon, because then his mother would go back to Antarctica, and he could finally go adventuring again. He could have magic and lasers and strange, alien worlds to explore once more.
The real world was so boring.
Milo followed the hallway, threading between fallen columns and broken glass. At the end of the huge, ancient corridor was an arched doorway. The look of it interested Milo, because it reminded him of the entrance to the Mumorpagun Citadel Of Ahr-Peyjee on his favorite shard. It was a good place to grind levels and it was partially randomized, so that it didn't get entirely boring. The best part was the chance that the chamber of the Golden Lute would show up. That only had a one in fifty chance of appearing, supposedly. Milo had encountered it twice.
The only treasure behind these broken doors would be more rubble, but the Conciergerie kind of looked like something cool from his games, so at least it was sort of fun to pretend. Sort of. At least there weren't any other kids here. Milo decided to check for traps, just as if he were on the 'net. Nothing. Carefully, he clambered around and over the broken edges of the heavy door, and entered the round room beyond it.
The chamber had a domed roof, with a strangely familiar design on it. A moon and a sun. Milo followed a marble pillar down, past the tall, arched windows. In the eerie light, he found a statue on a stone platform. It appeared to be a carving of a boy, dragging his legs as if they were hurt and wouldn't work. The look on the stone face was one of fear.
The face looked familiar.
"Goodly creature, thy princess hath arrived."
The voice was not immediately familiar. As Milo whirled around, the source became clear - the diarch of the night, princess Luna, stood before him. Milo had never met the princess of star and moon before, he had only ever seen her image. The reality was strange - in one sense, Luna was overwhelming, her power and presence filled the chamber, yet in another sense, the dark princess seemed oddly vulnerable and insecure. There was no question she was younger - whatever that truly meant to such immortal creatures - than her sister Celestia.
She stood tall, her head far above his, but not as tall as her elder sister. Her empyrean mane and tail waved in that esoteric breeze that only alicorns could feel, and it seemed as if it were made of the night sky itself. Milo felt that if he but stepped forward too far, he would fall into interstellar void, only to be lost forever amongst distant and alien stars.
This wasn't right. It was Celestia who had appeared first, ghostlike, to live with him for six full months. They had become the closest of companions, and he had shared his deepest hopes and fears with the solar regent. She had been his everpresent companion, closer to him by far than his own, emotionally distant mother. In some ways, Celestia had been the only mother he had ever truly known.
But all of that - the appearance of instances of Celestia to the children and adults of the Good Families - that hadn't happened yet. Not in Paris. That happened later, after the attack on the bubble in the sea, after the Three Days War. None of those events had happened yet... Milo felt confused, as if he somehow knew the future as if it had already happened. He took a step back, staring at the starlit princess, unsure of what was real and what was not.
"Art thou in distress? Dost thou require succor?"
The memories began flooding back. Six months of spectral Celestia, promises of being a pony in a magical land, Celestia being forced to leave. The huge fight with his mother, and how she didn't care one bit. The Masada. Running away.
The forest. Oh... the forest.
Milo fell back against the stone base behind him, only to stand up again and turn about. He knew instantly who the statue looked like now. It looked like himself.
Milo turned again, and faced the princess of the night. "I'm dead, aren't I?"
Luna slowly shook her head, her ethereal mane twinkling with stars as she did so. "Nay, little human colt, but thou doth hang as by a thread betwixt light and darkness, thy very essence embrangled within gravest peril."
Milo tried to take this in, but he was frightened and the princesses' archaic words seemed to jumble in his mind. "What?"
The dusky jewel of Equestrian night seemed briefly annoyed. She stamped a hoof. Then she sighed. "You're pretty messed up. There isn't any way to save you without breaking that stupid Covenant your parents forced Celestia into. The royal unicorns turned all of you to stone to preserve you until you were legally eighteen."
Milo swallowed and leaned against the stone base that held the statue of him.
"It's like this, Milo. You're gonna croak unless you get turned into a pony. Are you still alright with that? Celestia told me you really wanted to be a pony, but I'm forced to ask. The Covenant again." Unearthly blue-green eyes looked at Milo with both amusement and resignation.
"Of course I want to... why do you talk like that? If you can talk normally, I mean?" Milo had always been curious about bizarre or unusual things, and having the princess of the moon chatting like any ordinary pony in the middle of... whatever this was... felt utterly unhinged.
Luna tilted her head down, and looked up at him through her lashes. A faint grin could be seen on her midnight muzzle. "Our familiar age be long ago lost to us, and in mischievous rebellion against cruel time, we keep our tongue of centuries past as keepsake to comfort us from our pitiable loss."
Milo tried, he truly did, but the situation was so overwhelming that he once again was forced to ask "What? Sorry. It's just that... sorry."
Luna's grin faded. "I miss the old days, and all of my old friends. They're all gone now. Speaking like we used to back then makes me feel less sad about missing them."
"Yeah. I can see that. I'm sorry you had to stop doing it for me." Milo remembered having heard that the younger princess had been lost or absent for a long time. No wonder she seemed sort of sad.
"So, Milo..." The supreme diarch of the night took on a serious expression. "Do you wish to be a pony?"
"Can I be a pegasus? You know, like Daring Do?" The adventurous fantasy books had been among the first Equestrian works to be translated and made available to the population of the dying earth. Milo had loved them and it was the character of Daring Do that had made Equestria seem even better than playing on the hypernet. In Equestria, magical items truly were... magical.
"If I make you a pegasus, will you choose to become a pony and live?" Luna waited.
"Yes! Please turn me into a pegasus!" Milo became excited. He would be able to learn to fly. He could go adventuring for real. The shape of his future began to form in his mind, and it was fantastic.
"HUZZAH!" Luna yelled, grateful that the little human colt had not refused the gift of life. "Um... that means..."
Milo grinned. "I know 'Huzzah', princess. See? HUZZAH!"
Luna met Milo's grin with one of her own. "THE HUZZAH HAST BEEN DOUBLED!"
Swiftwind watched as the shape of a dark purple pegasus with a black mane was gently floated down to the marble floor. It was Milo, Celestia had explained. Silvery light removed itself from Milo's pony body. The pegasus colt opened emerald eyes, which gradually began to focus and explore the room. Soon, they fixed on Swiftwind.
"Milo? We're ponies now! We made it!"
Tears began to form in the pegasus colt's eyes. "Asher?"
The deep blue unicorn's nod confirmed it. "I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do. It all happened so fast, it was everything I could do just to... I'm sorry..."
"It's okay, Milo. Sheesh. I don't even know what happened. Last thing I remember was Seraphina breathing into my face. I was kinda out of it. Her breath stank."
The purple pegasus laughed at this. "Yeah, she jumped on you. It was weird." Milo raised his long neck and looked around. "Sera? Seraphina?"
"Your friend awaits you, outside that door." Milo became aware that princess Celestia was present as well. "You may go to her when you can stand." Celestia turned her attention to her sister. "You have done very well, dear Luna, as I knew you would. Could you please help your new pony to try his first steps and guide him outside? There is work yet to be done, and Swiftwind must remain here for now."
Luna nodded. "Our sister doth have other business upon which she must attend. Come thee apace, that joyful reunion with thy beloved companions may be obtained. Be not afeared to stand upon thy new legs, for we shall be thy brace."
The next few minutes had Milo trying out his unsteady new legs, and flapping his even more awkward new wings until at last, with Luna's patient help, he was finally able to exit the Waiting Room. Swiftwind watched his friend while practicing his own gait, walking around the pedestal that had once supported his lithified form. Occasionally, his eyes locked onto the remaining display - Oliver and Isla, standing as if playing, save for the grim and terrified looks upon their frozen features.
When Milo and Luna had finally passed through the doorway to a chorus of joyful pony shouts and hoofclops and hugs beyond, Swiftwind wanted to go too, but Celestia held him back.
"You will meet your friends soon, my little pony, but first there is a promise I must keep. There is some... one... who I have agreed to allow to speak with you. Nothing is expected of you, Swiftwind, save your patience in this matter." Celestia turned and walked toward the door. "Remain here, I shall return immediately."
Swiftwind carefully navigated himself to a window beside one of the massive columns that graced the marble room. Beyond the glass, his magenta eyes tried to encompass the sheer magnitude of the castle and city - and depths - below. The base of the gigantic tower he was inside vanished within massive structures, these, in turn, gave way to a multiply-tiered city. Beyond the semicircular balconies of the city, an improbably deep drop led to rolling flatlands, and in the far distance, impossibly steep mountains.
As the freshly ponified newfoal watched tiny ponies strolling miniature pathways far below, he was startled by a flash of gray and yellow. The air was filled with flying pegasai, and one had passed right beside the very window from which Swiftwind stared in astonishment.
"Swiftwind?" The dark blue unicorn colt regretfully dragged his vision from the wonders beyond the window, back to the solid marble of the circular chamber. Celestia had brought a bipedal entity into the room, a human man. Recognition hit just as she spoke again. "Your father wishes to say something to you."
Every muscle in Swiftwind's body became tight with fear and shock. The unicorn colt swallowed, carefully, backing up slightly.
Sergey Brin crouched down, so that his small human eyes could meet the enormous ones of his child. "Asher... um... Swiftwind." The name seemed difficult to say, but Sergey struggled on. "Son... I asked Celestia to allow me to remain human long enough to say something to you. She doesn't let humans out of the Masada now. We... we sort of made some mistakes. But that's not important." Sergey noticed the way Celestia was looking on. He resolved not to waste the moment on details about having broken the Covenant.
"Ash... Swift... wind... Swiftwind... I know I haven't been... I know I've been hard on you." Sergey got down on one knee, a hand on the cool marble floor. "Maybe... maybe I've been a right bastard, I guess. But I only did it to toughen you up, to make you a... man... so you could rise in the Families, have a chance at better, have a chance at the top." Brin couldn't meet his son's alien eyes, and for a while he stared at the floor while he spoke.
"Son, I'm going to be a pony soon, like you. Don't got a choice, really, now. Got a contract with Celestia and all, and she's a real stickler... what I'm trying to say is, I don't know if I'll still be me after that, or how much of me will be left - I don't know how much of you is in there either - but... but I've got to say this while I'm still walking on two legs, son. So you'll believe me. So you'll know it's me saying this, and not some... not whatever I become when the princess changes me.
"Asher... son... Swiftwind, whatever... just hear me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hit you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I hurt you a lot, I know I... I did a lot of things I know hurt you so much and... I can't take any of that back. I can't change the past, and I wish I could, but... I love you son. I truly do. Honestly. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm letting her change me into a pony. To be with you, son. I won't leave you to fend for yourself in this strange world. I know I haven't been the kindest father but... I won't abandon my only son. I... I love you, boy. I do. And I just needed you to hear that.
"I needed you to hear that... while I'm still me. While I'm still the old dad you remember... the dad you ran away from - and I don't blame you one bit. Not one bit. I... I'm sorry, and I love you, and... and that's that, I suppose." Sergey Brin, his eyes wet and red, stood up, slowly, and turned to the princess of the sun. "Go ahead. You better do me now. Before I turn chicken and bolt. I'm not good at agreements, you might have noticed."
Before Celestia could energize her horn, Swiftwind had collided with his human father. The two went down on the hard marble floor, and Sergey would have cracked his skull save for the sudden, brief, enfolding golden glow that had caught him, and set him gently down.
Human father and pony son embraced, clumsily, both in tears, their words unintelligible.
Any transformations would have to wait just a little while longer.
Milo Cameron finally caught his breath.
Seraphina - now a pegasus called 'Morning Star' - had tackled him, and behind her was Petra - 'Crimson Beauty', an earthpony, and Plantain too, the little performer whose bunny friend had defeated the Displacer Beast. Milo had been drenched in mares, and laughter, and gladness at the mere fact of his being alive. He had nearly drowned beneath this ocean of attention, and only now had he finally found his way to the surface.
One pony waited. A pale green unicorn stood apart, nervous and alone. Her eyes flitted to and away from the happy scene. Occasionally, she pawed the marble floor with a forehoof.
As Milo pulled away from his three traveling companions, friends now all, they followed his gaze and turned their own to the green mare that stood alone.
Milo studied the silver-maned unicorn. There was something familiar about her mannerisms. Something about the way she stood, the way she held herself, the way her eyes moved and her muzzle was fixed. "Who's she?" Milo looked at Crimson and then nodded at the green mare.
"Oh, Milo! That is your own dear mother!" Crimson's greatest hope had come true for little Milo. "She became a pony, just for you, Milo! She wanted to be with you, to be your mother! She wanted you so very much that she sought remedial ponification just to take care of you and make a home for you!" Crimson felt a tear in her eye. "Go to her, Milo, go to your mother! She's right there, waiting only for you!"
The purple pegasus colt carefully stood up on his newly created legs. The three fillies trembled at the thought of such a wonderful and touching reunion.
"Mother." Milo studied his mother-as-a-pony. The same rigid stance. The same distant look in her eyes - when she would look at him at all. Milo felt sadness slowly fill his heart. Ponification was supposed to improve humans, cause them to shed their harshness and enhance their love and compassion. But his mother was not running to hold him. She did not seem to have changed at all.
"Milo... I..." More than anything in all of her two lives, Peridot Cabochon wanted to run to her son, to embrace him, to hold him tight and tell him that nothing else in both universes mattered more than him. Just him. But she felt ashamed. He would know, he would see how she had changed, and hate her for not loving him before. Peridot couldn't bear that. It hurt too much. If only she could find the courage to try, if only she had any reason to believe he might want her, even a little bit, even just the tiniest bit...
Milo stood, waiting. The hug did not come. His mother had become a pony, but she wouldn't even look at him. She hated him. Because he was a pegasus, and not a unicorn like her, he reasoned. Nothing he ever did was good enough to win her affection. She never cared about anything to do with him. She kept him fed, she made sure he had stuff. But her work always came first, he had no illusions that he had only ever been just another box to check off of her life's itinerary.
For his entire human existence, Milo Cameron had truly wanted only one thing. He wanted his mother to love him. Or even just to like him. To show any approval at all, any emotion at all. He always had stuff. There was always material possessions. He lacked for nothing... but her. He had lost himself in books and games and finally Celestia... but what he really wanted was his mother, and she had no time or love to give.
She still stood there, staring at the floor. Milo saw a tear fall from her muzzle. He understood instantly what it meant. She was disappointed in him. Again. As always. He had just awakened from the most terrible horror of his life, and been transformed from a human boy into a pegasus colt. If any foal in any world ever needed their mother, it would surely be him, and she stood there, weeping, because he wasn't good enough!
"Why are you here then? Just go! Just LEAVE!" Milo shouted, his heart broken.
Peridot's eyes burst with tears, a flood let loose as she realized the worst had happened. Her colt, the one thing she truly cared about, wanted nothing to do with her. He had seen that she loved him now, and in the comparison had utterly rejected her for failing to love him when she had been human. She couldn't blame him. She wasn't worthy of such a son. He would be better off with some native Equestrian than the likes of her.
If only he knew how desperately she loved him. But that was done. The only thing she could do now, was to make way for his future happiness.
Peridot ran weeping down the hall, her precise gait turned to stumbling ruin, as she dashed as fast as her hooves could gallop, straight to the great glass window at the end, and the forty-five hundred hoof drop to the cobblestones below.
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I assume that the pony way of thinking takes a little bit longer to come fully on-line for some newfoals? Because other things being equal, that's the only way I can see Swiftwind actually listening to his abusive father while Milo would immediately flip out. Or is it just that Sergey was actually able to say something, while Milo just had his nightmares to work with?
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Milo, only wanted his mother to love him. His comprehension of this was to have her be physically demonstrative - and also to actually tell him that she loved him.
Peridot, found she loved her son, but she was filled with shame for not having loved him before she became a pony. She felt sure he would reject her, because she felt so ashamed of herself.
It should have worked out, because Peridot loves Milo, and Milo loves his mother.
Love, love, love!
But even in Equestria, jumping to conclusions can lead to sadness. All Peridot had to do was jump and hug her son, or even just say 'I love you' and it would have worked. But she didn't, because a lifetime of being reserved held her back. Milo just had to stop feeling sorry for himself long enough to try, one last time, to beg love from his mother. But a lifetime of being rejected gave him reason to not try.
Even ponies can miscommunicate. Even ponies can hurt so much they fail to open up sometimes (think Pinkamina Pie when she's down)
This is what happened here. A needless, but very common, tragedy.
But... you know my stories. Fear not.
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Yeah, I was almost yelling "one of you, say something!" at the screen. And then Milo said something.
I know you don't go in for cheap tricks or fake drama, so on top of the whole 'I care about the characters' thing, I'm excited to see how you resolve it.
I DO know your stories, and I'm pretty sure I can predict how this will end (though it's 5:30 AM right now and I'm running on three hours of sleep, so I'm not going to try to put it into words), but... man, how can you do this to me like this?
Also... I believe you had spelled her name "Seraphina" in earlier chapters? Which spelling is correct?
Well that ending... I can say i did not see it coming.
Well, that could have ended better.
I'm a bit excited to see how this gets resolved. I'm not sure how the hoof to feet conversion works, but that drop sounds long.
I wasn't aware ponies could contemplate suicide. What a nasty human trait we have when things go utterly wrong.
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- Sten
images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20101220042439/dragonage/images/f/f0/Sten_new.jpg
Hopefully, dear Morning Star is well-versed in the art of catching falling ponies.
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Seraphina. Sigh.
FIXED
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In my stories, one Hoof = 4 inches, or 10.16 Centimeters.
This is based on a calculation made early on by a fan who worked out the eight foot high size of Celestia, and the four-foot high size of ponies from the average size of the breed of apples as shown in the cartoon.
Framing, ladies and gentlemen! The window kind as well, in this case.
In the end, they were both dependent on only their theories about one another to interpret the silence their senses were conveying...
Milo's Mom in general seems much, much less prone to the "gushing" most ponies in this setting engage in - No doubt that kind of interstellar aloofness was too central to her personality to be removed by a simple re-weighting of emotions. Some people are just not creatures of emotion or instinct to begin with... Maybe that's the reason she was able to choose annihilation, while that newfoal in 27 Ounces faltered when contemplating a similar drop (or she slipped on the marble).
It'll be interesting to see how that plays out if she's rescued by a passing pegasus or Alicorn telekinesis (or just reconstituted from the mess she leaves on the street below). Or if Milo is allowed to think that she hated him so it becomes less of a tragedy in his eyes, or if he'd rather deal with at least knowing the truth and having all the resentment be directed towards himself instead, for rejecting her.
Not surprised Asher's dad had a turnaround - He always struck me as more fearful and worried than particularly malicious, so as soon as he realized there was no incentive to hold back he was able to let that out. Asher had a pretty effective guarantee of his safety, as well, and was probably stunned that he showed up at all, so it seems totally reasonable to me he would have patiently heard him out. It was really nice to see, in any case.
Incidentally:
I think this should be "gait."
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FIXED. Thank you, those sorts of errors are not caught by spell checkers, and even doing two eyeball editing passes - I still missed it. Grrr.
I really like your analysis of the mental states of Swiftwind, Sergey, Milo and Peridot. That has made me challenge something I was going to do, so I need to think about whether to do it that way or not. One of my greatest joys in writing is when readers have insights that make me look at a story anew. I need to ponder your thoughts.
On several lighter notes...
I'm surprised the frostbite damage persisted post-petrification.
Wait, actually, no I'm not. After all, that would be magical alteration of the human form, wouldn't it? After all, a key conflict of this story is that Celestia is
Judge Dreddthe law.The depiction of the Hypernet reminded me of a fantastic book, Ready Player One, wherein the Earth is somewhat less roughed over than in your Conversion Bureau stories and VR circuses entertain the masses. Especially the Mumorpagun Citadel Of Ahr-Peyjee. That sort of transparent wordplay is right up that book's alley.
fc08.deviantart.net/fs43/f/2009/105/e/9/Cave_Story___Balrog_Icon_by_Doctor_Cool.png
)
Also, snarky colloquial Luna is among the better Lunas. I'm reminded of Earth & Sky. (As you may have gathered, much tends to remind me of much else. Such is the life of a fan of most everything.
In all, deeply heartfelt experiences all around, and proof that if friendship is magic, then communication is, at the very least, prestidigitation. Looking forward to more.
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Well, that's what we're here for. No pony is an island, etc. It's part of the reason I always riff on all the stuff in them the way I do (that and your stories tend to have a lot of stuff that's thought-provoking and "heavy," in the Marty McFly sense).
Looking forward to seeing it, and I hope you'll tell us afterwards how things had changed.
Dig the expression on Sergey in the illustration, btw - He looks serious and intense but not aggressive or angry. What I imagine contrition would look like for someone like that (though I have to admit my mental image was what a quick google search suggests you could compare to an adult Joffrey Baratheon, from that Thrones show I haven't gotten around to yet).
'Mumorpagun Citadel Of Ahr-Peyjee'
Congratulations, I have now laughed so hard, I'm fairly sure I've strained something, and I'm crying from doing so. That was utterly priceless.
Also, the bit with Luna going modern and *still* snarking? That's made my entire week suddenly not seem so bad. Simply wonderful :3
Lastly... oh dear... I do hope that isn't the end of poor Peridot... I do rather like her...
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Don't forget the chamber of the Golden Lute - LOOT.
Now what were the four notes that turn something to and from green color? I gotta use it to camouflage those sheep so the dragon takes me instead...
*SNERK*
FAT LUTES
In all honesty I couldn't finish this chapter. This is kind of odd considering you wrote it.
Verbose.
I tend to be a bit blunt sometimes, but if I were to sum up the reason why I couldn't finish reading this chapter in one word, that would be it. The problem is that the story feels like the climax has already passed. The development of the characters seems to be at a standstill, and these chapters feel more like filler than anything. I don't mind filler chapters, since they usually come with character development. Maybe there is character development in the chapters, but I don't feel it. The cast for the most part had very similar lives. Another reason might be also because of name confusion. Personally I'm too lazy to go back and study up on your characters. I still think the introductions to your characters earlier was way too sudden.
I'm not trying to be mean, but this is just my offering of an outside perspective.
Perhaps he had not been drenched enough. I kind of like Peridot, though. She's... different.
And lo, like the others, I have been delighted by our Luna, the very model of a modern
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That's sad, because in this chapter we finally come to understand Asher, and his violent father, Milo and who he is, and the trouble he has with his mother. We see fear and anguish and resolution, as Asher's father grows as a person, and then we see both Milo and Milo's mother falter. We learn what motivates both situations, and we find what is in all of their hearts. We see two different reunions, each unique, one potentially tragic.
It could simply be that my style is not to your taste. Or just the particular style I am using for purely this story alone. That happens.
I try different things, I write with different voices, and I experiment with different styles and methods. Not everything will work for everyone.
This story makes use of techniques common to turn of the century books, especially English children's literature, at least in part, and this demands a certain verbosity, and a sensuality of language and love of words that more modern tales eschew.
Words like... eschew... as just one example.
So - no worries!
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A pun explained has lost its zesty zing, sugarcube.
The air was filled with flying pegasai, and one had passed right beside the very window from which Swiftwind stared in astonishment.
(This is where I come off as a grammar douche.
)
Love the chapter, and I think the misunderstanding between Milo and his mum is brilliant. Even in Equestria the responsibility for each individual's happiness ultimately resides in their own hooves.
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Grammar FIXED! Sigh.
...
I really hope that just means he wanted to be able to be nice and knowledgeable upon greeting his son as a pony. I haven't formulated any specific alternatives as yet, but the general shape of the category is not a pleasing one.
First of all, this is wonderful. I know, on some level, that the mind that gives me this reunion is the same one that made it necessary by showing me Asher's resentment of Celestia for leaving in the first place, but I don't care about that nearly as much as I care about Asher's happiness right now.
Second of all... I wonder what kind of life Swiftwind is going to want to live as a pony, at the end of the day. Presumably the planned arrangements would place him with loving parents no matter what, but on one hoof there's the possibility of living with Celestia and becoming disillusioned with the realities of life as the ward of a demigoddess and world leader, and on the other there's the possibility of having normal and loving parents but always resenting the impossibility of his Celestia coming back to him.
And before we can reach that decision, we have to make it safely through whatever his human father is planning...
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I assure you, Sergey was only being his usual self, trying to deal with his inner fears by attempting to know every little thing. Sergey was a fearful man, who learned all he could not from fascination, but from the desire to feel in control. He was terrified of being ponified, and his way of coping was to learn things such as hoof-to-foot conversion ratios.
I based Sergey - like every character I write - on real people I have known (or in some cases, been.) Sergey is a blend of my hyperviolent father, my fearful mother, and half a dozen other people I have known over my life. His beating of Asher/Swiftwind is from my childhood, though his love is not. That is just me daydreaming that my own father might have, when all was said and done, cared at all for me, and been the least bit sorry for the blood he removed from my body. He wasn't, of course, but daydreams can be therapeutic.
Understanding that, be assured that Sergey Brin has no secret motivation or duplicity. He truly wanted to tell his son he cared before he faced what he imagined would be the death of his identity. Brin was a coward, and he was wrong, but in the end, he truly did love his child.
Now, duplicity is behind him in any case. In my stories, ponification changes all of the body, and that means that the evolved treachery of Man has been replaced with the designed cooperation and trust of Equestria. Even if he did have some terrible scheme, it is gone forever now, along with his capacity to beat his helpless son bloody.
HUZZAH!
I like Luna's explanation for her manner of speaking- both the fact that we get one, and the explanation itself. Her "modern" voice is... interesting, to say the least. I'd like to see more about where she gets those speech patterns in particular.
I really identified with Milo and his experience of getting to spend time in all sorts of amazing adventures only to be pulled out and expected to place more importance on a clearly inferior one just by virtue of its being "real"... but I'm also under no illusion that this is a unique or even rare condition.
I'm glad he finally gets to live in a world with the sort of magic he wanted- to say nothing of the difference in love and kindness.
...
Okay. If he still turns out to have something up his sleeve after all of that, I will be very impressed with his acting skills.
I will also be even more furious with him than I would have been had this not occurred.
Holy cow! I was braced since the beginning of the previous chapter for something to go wrong, but that was not it! A masterful job of misdirection.
Well. That certainly happened! Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Words fail me, I must continue reading instead of commenting. Your writing is always so very powerful.
I always wondered why some ponies call the Palace of the Diarchy of Equestria a castle. It is obviously a Palace. The Castle of the 2 Royal PonySisters is a Castle.
At the beginning of Season # 04, the writers planned to have the Mane 6 repair the Castle of the 2 Royal PonySisters, which is safe to aproach now that the Tree of Harmony has the Elements of Harmony again, but Hasbro decided to discontinue the LibraryPlaySet and sell a new CastlePlaySet. The result is the destruction of the Library, which is so cool, and like the Tardis, as Clara Oswald would say, is smaller on the outside. The new Castle is ugly and small —— ¡it better be smaller on the outside because otherwise, it is too small for all purposes except an outhouse!
Given that 2 Alicorns are present, I believe that it is safe to say that the Princesses will rescue Peridot.
I'm pretty sure that is a reference, but from where I have no idea.
The "hoof" seems awfully close to one tenth of yard or "deciyard", so to speak.
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I have always pictured a hoof as being about four inches, or a tenth of a meter (roughly), which is close enough to a tenth of a yard... so... yeah!
Right rat bastard or no, I knew that Sergey loved his son when he begged Celestia for Asher's life. I guess I can pass on breaking his jaw.