Death to the Sun

by Mare Macabre

Chapter 2: Tea Under Stormy Skies

Sandhya slumped in her seat, letting her head loll over its back and blowing out a disappointed sigh. It was understandable that her host would be predisposed given the day of the month, or really any other day for that matter, but she was beginning to tire of sitting alone in the atrium with slowly evaporating tea and embarrassingly large quantities of pastries on multi-tiered racks. Her violet eyes rolled of their own accord as she recalled how quickly she had taken up the open appointment for her mentor’s time without considering the date, and her hand darted up to her head to massage her forehead.

“So stupid . . . ” she grumbled, lowering her hand.

Sandhya glanced around the room as she debated whether to simply leave and reschedule—again—and found her eyes drawn to a ladybug perched stone-still on a leaf in the tree that dominated the center of the room. She stared at the little insect, wondering what simple thought might be passing through its mind. Maybe it was asleep. Maybe it was eating. Maybe it was relieving itself. Sandhya smirked and stood from the table, cringing as the ornate legs of the chair squealed against the hard stone floor.

“I guess there’s only one way to know for sure,” she thought aloud, wandering closer to the tree. She paused a few steps away, careful not to set the bug flying away, and closed her eyes to find the proper wording for her spell. Her Crystal Eye drifted open without her notice as she thought, and her mind slipped into an unusually calm and organized state as it focused in on the ladybug. “Let me hear your song,” Sandhya cooed in a hushed, aetheric whisper.

For a moment the room was quiet and still. Sandhya stood watching the ladybug with the sparkling eye centered in her forehead, her ordinary eyes closed and waiting for her spell to take effect. After almost a minute her eyes opened and a frown creased her brow. She brushed her dark hair aside and looked more closely at the insect, focusing all three eyes on the task, and saw that it had neither moved nor given any indication that her magick had affected it at all. The young enchantress growled in frustration and retreated to her chair at the table, where she dropped unceremoniously onto her rear and angrily grabbed a scone from the nearest tray.

“Stupid . . . ” she muttered as she shoved the pastry into her mouth.

As she sat, chewing her frustration away, thunder rolled overhead and shook the many glass fixtures of the atrium. Sandhya flinched as the sky let loose the roaring boom, suddenly fairly concerned about the construction of the thin-walled entryway to the Royal Gardens. A fresh sheet of rain followed the thunder’s heels, crashing down onto the gently curved ceiling and washing away the streaks left by earlier rainfall. The calamitous drumming of fat raindrops pelting the glass barrier to the outside world filled the room, and Sandhya let out a groan and buried her face in her hands. There was only supposed to be one rain scheduled for the day.

Someone was going to hear about this.

Bored, tired, and fairly frustrated, Sandhya stood and marched her way from the atrium’s outer edge back toward the palace. She huffed as the ladybug passed her field of view and swiped angrily at the tree, missing by an embarrassing margin and continuing on her way all the more upset. With a grunted spell the door flew open, and Sandhya marched her way out of the room.

She stopped just beyond the threshold. Then she stepped backward into the room and looked to her right.

A marble statue of the Princess of Sunlight stood beside the door, smiling serenely, her arms partly extended as though reaching for an embrace. Sandhya looked the statue up and down, her eyes narrowing into slits as she examined the chiseled likeness of her teacher. She slowly circled around the statue, drinking in every detail with a harsh analytical eye, and stopped when she was once again looking at it from the front. She stared at its face for a few more seconds, glowering as she saw the crack in concentration, then waved a hand and dispelled the stony illusion.

“Three minutes, eight seconds,” the giant beneath the rock announced with grin as her camouflage fell away.

Sandhya glared up at the princess with her arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently as she awaited some form of apology. The princess sighed and stooped to bring herself to eye level with her apprentice.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, Sandhya,” she said softly, her tone draining all the anger out of her indignant pupil. “Will you still have tea with me?”

Sandhya kept her bemused expression as long as she could before letting out her held breath and smiling lightly. “Of course.”

Celestia grinned and rose to her feet, steering the girl back into the room toward the table at the far end. Lightning flashed overhead as they walked, and Sandhya tensed in anticipation of the boom, but the princess cut the deafening crack short with a soft word. The pelting rain suddenly turned to a light, pattering drizzle, at least in sound, and the rolling thunder sounded as though it were miles away. Sandhya let out a breath of amazement at the power her teacher displayed and smiled up at her at the thought of someday learning such magick herself.

Celestia felt her eyes and flashed her a knowing smile. “In due time,” she hummed, pulling out the smaller of the two seats for her student.

Sandhya sat and pulled in her chair, waiting quietly as her elder made her way around the table to the sizeable seat across from her and sat herself down. Once the princess was seated Sandhya turned her attention to the table, opening her magical eye and starting several items floating through the air. The teapot lifted from its heated resting place and tipped steaming water into a sizeable cup set before the princess, a diffuser filled with sweet smelling herbs dropping in after. Plates swirled around the table, picking bits and pieces of various dessert items and arranging them neatly on the small platters, then settled in arcs around the two teacups. The teapot shifted to Sandhya’s own cup, drizzling hot water over a tightly packed ball of leaves bound around warm spices. Finally the napkins beside each saucer unrolled themselves and spilled their contents onto the table, where the silverware lifted off and nestled themselves in rows of descending size and varying shape before their own diners.

Sandhya let out her breath, examining her work with a note of pride, and closed her Eye. The teapot, still in the air above the table, dropped a few centimeters before another force caught it and ended Sandhya’s panic before it had fully begun. She looked up at Celestia, then nervously averted her eyes at seeing her mentor’s reassuring smile.

“Excellent control,” Celestia mused, setting the kettle back on its miniature stove. “Your dexterity is much improved since I last had a chance to observe.”

“Thank you,” Sandhya nodded. She looked down at her tea, waiting for the small bundle of leaves to blossom and finish spreading its flavor though her cup. “It’s been a while since the last time,” she said after a brief silence.

Celestia’s smile waned and she looked to her own cup. “It has.”

“I-I’m sorry, I know you’re busy,” Sandhya said quickly. “There’s a lot to do with two princesses in the kingdom again. I didn’t mean, just, I—“

“It’s alright,” Celestia chuckled, cutting her off. “Things are indeed busy since Luna’s return. Nearly the whole of Equestrian legal code has to be edited to account for it, and our neighbors worry about an imbalance of power in the political ring.” Sandhya scoffed before she could stop herself, then lowered her head as her elder turned an amused gaze to her. “What?”

“It’s just . . . who thinks they could ever have leverage against you?” Sandhya half-laughed. “You control the sun. It seems kind of silly for anyone to think there’s a balance of power between nations when your role is so vital to the world.”

Celestia mimicked her grin and laced her fingers in front of her, lowering her elbows to the table. “So it would seem. You forget, though, that there are creatures in the world that need no light to thrive.”

“And no heat?” Sandhya countered.

Celestia lolled her head left and right, then straightened up and lifted her tea. She blew across its surface, sending a plume of steam into the air, then sipped daintily at it before setting it back on her plate-sized saucer.

“What would happen to the people of Equestria if I were to hold the sun for ransom against another nation?” the princess asked suddenly, making Sandhya blink.

“Uh . . . I suppose they would . . . be in the dark.”

“Would their situation not be the same as those who I am withholding the day from?”

Sandhya blinked again. Truth be told she had never considered the possibility of such a thing. It seemed like the logical trump card if others decided to play hardball, but the young wizard had never actually thought of the consequences before. With any thought, though, the answer was plain to see.

“They would,” she affirmed.

Celestia nodded sagely. “The sun has no respect for the borders of nations or the politics of the world. She is as necessary to us as she is to all life; I could never—will never—abuse my connection to her for the sake of raising my people over any other.”

Sandhya felt a flutter in her stomach at hearing the conviction and power in Celestia’s voice, admiring the figure she struck against the stormy world beyond the glass behind her. She glanced at her tea, noting that it was ready, and sipped lightly at it before a thought crossed her mind.

“Wait, all life? Didn’t you just say there were creatures that didn’t need light to thrive?”

Celestia deflated slightly, running back through her words, then rested a cheek on her knuckles and looked down at her student bemusedly. “You know, you could still be a lawyer.”

“Mm, and what fun that would be,” Sandhya remarked, picking a muffin from one of her plates. She glanced up at the princess as she bit into it, pausing as she realized Celestia was still staring down at her with a blank face. “Uh . . . princess?”

Celestia blinked and shook herself, rising to her full height and taking another sip of her tea. She watched steam waft off of the bowl-sized cup, momentarily losing herself once again in her thoughts, then set it down and cleared her throat.

“You’re sure you don’t want to be a lawyer, Sandhya?” The girl across from the princess frowned. “It may not be quite as interesting as working with magick, but it’s highly organized and intellectually challenging. I think you might find the work enjoyable.”

Sandhya turned her head and narrowed her eyes, unsure of what the princess was trying to do. “Be that as it may magick is my life. I could never walk away from my studies, no matter what the reason. Learning magick from you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade the opportunity for anything.”

The princess beamed at her, bringing a shade of red to the tan skin of her student’s face. “I expected as much.”

Sandhya fidgeted slightly. “Uh, did I pass?”

Celestia covered her mouth and fought back a laugh. “That wasn’t a test, Sandhya. I only wanted to see if you were still enjoying your position as my apprentice.”

“A-Absolutely!” Sandhya assured quickly. “I love it!”

Celestia lowered her hand and smiled earnestly at her student. “I’m glad for that. And I’m sorry I haven’t had as much free time for your lessons as of late.”

“Don’t be,” Sandhya laughed nervously. “I have your notes. And the Royal Archive. I couldn’t ask for more.”

The princess simply held her smile, watching her apprentice fidget and blush under her gaze. Silence passed between them for a moment before Sandhya finally coughed and snapped her teacher from her thoughts once again.

“Is that really all?” she asked with a nervous smile. “You seem like you’re distracted. More than usual, I mean.”

Celestia hummed thoughtfully, tempted to once again steer the conversation toward the prospect of law school, but let the thought pass. She laced her fingers on the table and cleared her throat.

“I . . . may not have been entirely honest with you when I agreed to meet you today,” she said, carefully avoiding her student’s eyes. “I don’t have as much free time as I may have alluded to.”

Sandhya’s shoulders drooped. “Oh,” she said quietly. “So you’ll be getting back to work soon?”

“Actually, I’m working now,” Celestia sighed, taking in the girl’s confused look. “I uh . . . have some business with you. Official business.”

Sandhya perked up, unsure what the princess could mean. “Oh?”

Celestia pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. “Sandhya, you know that, as my personal student, you have some responsibilities to the kingdom.” Sandhya nodded, concern playing across her face. “Well, a situation has arisen in which I’m afraid I must call upon you to carry out those responsibilities. One in which I am unable to act freely and require a . . . substitute.”

Sandhya’s eyes widened. “A s-substitute?”

Celestia nodded. “Something, we are as yet unsure what, has fallen into the possession of a tribe of Griffonian radicals calling themselves the Star Killers.”

“That’s . . . ominous,” Sandhya noted.

“Indeed. I imagine their intent is apparent enough from their name?”

Sandhya scowled. “They’re insane then. How could anyone think they could possibly . . .” She shook her head. “It’s nuts.”

“The common sense of mort—most creatures is beyond me,” Celestia groaned, massaging her temple. “Regardless, whatever they now have might be just the thing they need to achieve such lofty goals. We do not know what it is exactly, but we do know that a powerful artifice, imbued with ancient magicks, was recently stolen from the vaults of Trottingham Keep. The vault’s manifest is being scoured to find the item that was taken, but we don’t have time to wait for the whole of the records to be searched. Given its storage location, we can assume it is dangerous enough to pose a serious threat.”

“How do you know the Star Killers have it?” Sandhya interrupted.

“One of their members was apprehended during the theft; he told us as much,” the princess explained. “Unfortunately it seems he was little more than an expendable recruit, sacrificed so that the true thieves could escape. We have extracted any and all information he could give, but it all amounts to little more than the group’s name and their philosophy. He has no idea what they were sent to retrieve nor how they were able to get it, only that it was magickal and necessary to their plans.”

She paused as Sandhya absorbed the information, slowly chewing the nutty pastry with a look of concentration. She swallowed loudly, not noticing the quirk of Celestia’s eyebrow, then turned her frown up to her teacher.

“I-I’m sorry, Princess, but, unless I’m missing something obvious, I don’t see how this relates to me,” she said cautiously.

The Princess of Sunlight regarded her apprentice, a sad smile spreading over her features. “I fear I may have failed you, Sandhya,” she murmured with a soft shake of her head. “We never did begin your lessons in sociality. There was always something a little more important to teach you.” She sighed as Sandhya’s frown deepened then straightened her back and assumed an official, authoritative tone. “Sandhya, you are the most adept and magickally sensitive person in the entirety of my Academy, and likely the entire Kingdom of Equestria. As the acting head of state, as well as the target of this radical group’s ire, it has been deemed too dangerous for me to pursue them myself, and I am required to seek an avatar to carry out the investigation into their activities and hunt them down in my stead. Given your credentials I can think of no other I would trust more with this respons— . . . this burden,” she finished, her regal tone of voice leaving her. “I am truly sorry, Sandhya, but I have doubts that anyone else but you could do this.”

The purple robed young woman gawked at her host, unable to find words. Celestia winced as she began to shake her head, slowly picking up speed and finding her voice.

“I-I-I can’t do something like thi—no,” she sputtered. “I couldn’t . . . I haven’t even left the palace in . . . since . . .”

Sandhya froze as a gentle hand touched her shoulder. She focused back on the room, looking up at the princess, and the soft smile that met her began to melt away her rising panic.

“You are, without a doubt, the most powerful magician I have ever met,” said Celestia softly, making Sandhya tense with surprise. “I had all but given up hope that I would ever see my sister again before you appeared in my school. I knew the instant you opened your Eye that you would do and become something great.” The princess shifted, taking Sandhya’s comparatively tiny hand in hers. “I would never ask this of you—I rightly cannot bestow such a burden on you, not with the debt I owe you already—but believe me when I say that I trust no one else with this task. Even among my inner circle there are those I cannot trust completely, and the fact that a small, disorganized group like the Star Killers managed to get ahold of something from Trottingham Keep tells me that this may be truer now than ever. I have to keep the peace, and to do that I have to remain here and maintain at least the illusion of normalcy.”

Sandhya continued to stare, her free hand curling into an anxious fist as she considered the princess’s words. She wasn’t sure whether to feel honored or terrified by what she’d been told, but the request laid heavy over the information and smothered her ability to think clearly. Her head shook slowly, the thought of venturing not only beyond the palace but outside the great walls around the city stabbing icy fear into her chest. The young wizard turned a pained look up to her mentor, and the princess’s half-smile dissolved into a look of knowing sadness. Sandhya could tell she had expected this outcome, and the thought that she had disappointed her teacher hurt her, but the thought of carrying out the task was almost more terrifying than even the look of defeat the princess’s face.

“If you can’t—if you really can’t—I suppose there is one other I could turn to,” the princess sighed, her downtrodden voice stinging Sandhya’s heart.

Sandhya reached with her free hand and took the princess’s in both of hers. “I . . .” She winced at the faint glimmer of hope in the princess’s eyes and cleared her throat. “Princess . . .”

The solar matriarch enfolded Sandhya’s hands in her own and smiled somberly at her. “I shouldn’t have sprung this on you, Sandhya. You didn’t need to know about it. I’m sorry.”

She moved to draw back her hand, but Sandhya held fast, surprising the princess. She looked up from the table, realizing Sandhya’s pained and conflicted face. The regal giant sighed and wrapped her other hand around her student’s, readying another apology.

“When would I leave?”

Regina Celestia choked on her words, her breath stopping in her throat. She blinked her eyes wide, staring at her teary eyes apprentice with surprise. Sandhya tried to steel herself, smiling nervously, but the only effect was highlighting how uncomfortable she truly was. The Princess of Sunlight felt strength leave her as she drank in the sight of her pitifully shaking student, wanting painfully to rescind her request and assure her that the responsibility could be passed to another, but she knew, as did Sandhya, that this was not the case. The princess smiled, sadly but sincerely, and bowed her head in thanks.

“Tomorrow,” she said quietly, feeling the hands in her grasp tense. “You would leave at first light.”

Sandhya took a ragged breath, trying to find comfort in her mentor’s touch. “Alone?”

The princess held her stoic pose, seemingly afraid to answer.

“No,” she said eventually, looking up apologetically. “You’d have to travel discreetly, no envoy of soldiers or royal carriages, but you won’t be completely by yourself.”

Sandhya, predictably, was not enthused at hearing this. “It wouldn’t be a big group, would it?”

“No,” the princess smirked. “Just three. You and two others.” She hesitated before continuing. “But I don’t imagine that will be enough. I can’t send a regiment of soldiers without alerting anyone that might be working against me from the inside, and the movements of a large group would draw too much attention, but I have no doubts you’ll find yourself in need of further help on your mission. Part of your task will be to seek out people that can help you—ordinary people that can travel without arousing suspicion—and enlist them to your cause. I trust in your judgment to find people of exceptional talent hidden among the laymen of Equestria that will provide you with the skills you need throughout your journey. You have my authorization to promise them any necessary reward upon the completion of the task and I will do my best to provide. Within reason, of course.”

Sandhya’s heart sank as her elder’s earlier comment about social lessons finally clicked. “M-Me? I have to find them?”

The princess fought to keep her reassuring smile. “Yes, Sandhya. You will be leading the mission.”

The young wizard nearly collapsed, her grip on the familiar, all-encompassing hands only just keeping her upright in her seat. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat as the thing she had tentatively agreed to do finally became clear. She was sorely tempted, almost desperate, to ask not to undertake the task, but the look of hope and gratitude in the princess’s eyes made the thought poisonous. She bit back her fear, breathing slowly and shakily, and eventually managed a small smile.

“Is it still not too late to be a lawyer?”

Princess Celestia chuckled and shook her head. “For now I’m afraid that ship has sailed, but it will be back. I have faith in your abilities, Sandhya, more so than I have trust for anyone in Canterlot right now. You will succeed. I know it.”

Sandhya took another slow breath and slipped her comparatively small hands out of her host’s. “I . . . believe that you believe that,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the bleached white tablecloth. She steadied herself, bunching up her robes in sweating hands. “I suppose I should pack.”

The princess sat quietly for a moment before smiling warmly. “Soon. I expected this to take longer, honestly,” she admitted awkwardly, “so I do have some time before my next appointment.” She waved her hand over the table, whispering a spell that set white vapor billowing from the teacups once again and returned some color to the foods and their sweet aroma to the room. “Shall we?”

Sandhya looked at her tea, realizing with a tilt of her head that the blossom within had disappeared—replaced with a small bag she recognized from the princess’s personal stock of imported teas. A tiny smile pushed its way through her anxiety, and she gratefully took the cup in hand and toasted her host.

The two drank and ate in near silence, the sounds of the storm and castle beyond the glass walls all but muted. In the quiet, between bites of pastry and sips of tea, each could swear they heard a tiny voice singing a beautiful, lilting serenade.

Author's Note:

Does it look better double spaced? I can't tell.

Comments

[Mile High]

Wait...
SOMEONE WANTS TO KILL THE PRINCESS!
Come on guys we need to protect the princess of the sun... And of corse I'm talking about Gwynevere
The Blade of the Darkmoon Covenant will crush all sinners.
All sinners shall face the blades!