Until that first meeting with Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle had never expected to see an alphyn. She had been so excited be tasked by the Princess to travel to the Palatinate of Phynland and negotiate a trade route agreement with the Grand Prince. A new land, as far as she’d ever travelled (if you didn’t count mirror dimensions), and new people to meet and to exercise her responsibility as Princess for something so important! That Cadance and Shining Armor – and Spike, of course! – were to accompany her as her support, not the other way around, was just the icing on the cake.
Of course, Twilight was widely read enough to know about alphyns; Mareodotus described them as “having bodies like unto lions, half as large again as a pony, but with the front legs of griffons and a snake’s tail” but the description was rather... inadequate, to Twilight's mind. For one, their heads were not really lion-like aside for the thick mane, as brightly coloured as any pony’s. Their muzzles were longer, the faces narrower, putting Twilight more in mind of a wolf or perhaps even a dragon’s head in shape, with two prominent incisors. Their front legs were more in truth somewhere between and eagle’s and a dragon’s; bare of fur below the knee and covered in scales. They terminated in three large talons and a rear-ward facing smaller forth one. Their fur, ranging from bright yellow to deep orange had prominent tufts at the shoulders, rear calves and rump, which were all as neatly styled and groomed as any Canterlot noble’s moustache.
And the description of their very long, delicate prehensile tail as “snake-like” was entirely unflattering. It had enchanted Twilight on that first day in Chasshall, the capital of Phynland, to see those graceful tails, perhaps two or three times the length of an alphyn if stretched out, roiling and curling over themselves and waving gracefully like serpentine flagpoles above each alphyn’s back. This impression was only heightened by the ribbons and streamers the alphyns attached to their tails. Alphyns possessed inherent magic, most akin in form to unicorn magic. When they used this magic, their tails lit with an aura like a unicorn’s and weaved in complex spell-patterns. Twilight had found it an absolute delight to witness.
After a week of dealing with quagmire of Chasshall’s stratified society, the political manoeuvring, pride, rituals and most of all, the stubborn smirk of the infuriating Prince Caldrast, Twilight wished she could just go home and never see an alphyn ever again.
“It’s like he’s deliberately goading us!” Twilight all but snarled as she stomped into their guest quarters. An equally weary-looking Cadance trotted in behind her, carrying an exhausted Spike on her back. The little dragon had insisted on staying with Twilight all through the negotiations, determinedly taking notes and acting as scribe, showing patience far beyond his years. Twilight has already decided he had earned a whole bucketful of gems at the first opportunity.
Her ire softened slightly, as Cadance laid Spike on the grandiose canopied bed. Pausing to tuck him into one side of the bed, she turned back to Cadance. Shining, bringing up the rear, quietly drew the canopy closed around the sleeping drake to give him what little privacy the room could afford.
“I mean, look at this,” Twilight continued, in a much quieter voice, gesturing around the room. On first inspection it looked opulent, though even Rarity might have preferred to call it “gaudy.” There was entirely too much red to be comfortable and Twilight was more than half convinced that this was deliberate, to make them all feel more angry. While it was not exactly a small room – Caldrast had at least to maintain some minimum standards – the two overly large canopied beds took up much of the space. On close inspection, the wooden furniture was just the right side of being rotten and beyond the veneer, the paint was faded and the metalwork tarnished. The attached ensuite bathroom was archaic, lacking a shower and dominated by an ornate copper bath which could only be filled by servants bringing buckets. The little space the bath left was barely big enough for one pony. All-in-all, the suite was uncomfortably small for three ponies and a baby dragon.
“This suite, if you can call it that! One room for all of us, and only two beds! So Spike has to sleep with me! And our poor staff have to sleep with the palace servants on the other side of the castle!”
Part of her felt guilty for complaining about this, the sensible part that said she should be grateful for whatever honours her station bestowed upon her. However, the more Rarity-like part of her reminded that part that the Prince’s proclamation that this suite offered as “grand a vista of the city” as anywhere in the palace also meant it was situated right next to the royal menagerie and not far from the market. Which had lead to several sleepless nights until finally Twilight had cast a silencing spell on the windows.
“Prince Caldrast has done everything he can to make us miserable without actually violating his precious rules and traditions! And he’s enjoying every minute of it!”
“I agree,” Cadance said, resting on the room’s sole divan and stretching her wings. “This has gone well beyond just being a diplomatic tactic to keep us off balance.”
“I’d say he was doing it to strengthen his position with other princes,” Shining added, floating a pair of fruit cocktail drinks to the two alicorns in his aura, before joining his wife with one of his own. “But even that doesn’t make a lot of sense. He’s the strongest leader the alphyns have had for centuries. And it can’t be personal; this is the first time Equestria has had official relations with Phynland for ninety years.”
Twilight paced irritably. “He’s done absolutely everything but directly throw us out. It’s not even like he’s just disinterested in the agreement! He just... wants to make us suffer! Like today!” The four of them had spent the entire day and into the evening – a late start, after the Grand Prince had shown up in his own time, of course – trying to work out the trade route negotiations.
The terms were, frankly, very favourable to Phynland. Equestria was prepared to pay handsomely in money and trade concessions to allow their proposed trade route to pass through Phynland. With the renewed conflict between Ungulasia and the Gagana Aeries, the only way for Equestria to import the exotic Golden Star Orchid they currently needed very badly was to pass through Phynland. The other alternative was no alternative: a longer and more arduous journey around the continent that would reduce the plant’s freshness and efficacy. Worse, it was a route that would pass far to close Necanis. And the Cusith were far too well informed to allow such a prize to pass their doorstep unhindered, especially when it was one so important to whom they considered their only true rivals.
Prince Caldrast had dragged out the negotiations for hours, claiming this concession would upset this group or this guild or that organisation, and that one this one, until Twilight felt like she was trying to pilot a boat through uncharted reefs at high speed. But they made slow progress. Caldrast did not even appear to be making it impossible, just very difficult. And, when they had finally successfully navigated through the morass of alphyn politics, and it appeared that the Prince had run out of legitimate objections... he decided it was too late and he was too tired to continue.
All of this might have been bad enough, but Caldrast was really making no attempt to hide the fact that he was doing it all on purpose. Every time he found one more reason to drag things out or find some new way to politely snub them, it would be with that damned half-smirk. That smirk that said he knew that the excuses he came up with were flimsy, concealed under the thinnest veneer of diplomacy or politeness, but just sturdy enough that for them to complain would reflect badly on them. And he knew that they knew that.
Had it not been for Cadance’s calming presence, Twilight was sure she’d have hauled off and bucked him in his stupid orange face.
“Now, Twilight,” Cadance admonished primly as Twilight realised she’d observed that last part aloud. “That is no way for a Princess to behave.” She took a long sip from her fruit cocktail and murmured with a smile, half-muffled behind her drink, “even if it would be very satisfying.”
Twilight sighed, finally stopping her pacing and sagging. “I know. It’s... just so frustrating. This is so important, and he’s treating it... like a game. I don’t even know that he wants!”
Shining shrugged. “Well, we’ve got him on the ropes now. We’ve worked our way around every objection he could come up with. Tomorrow he’s either going to have to sign the agreement or come clean. Either way this is going to be over. And we can get back to doing more fun things. Like fighting Sombra again.”
“You’re right, BBBFF,” Twilight yawned hugely. “Better hit the hay so I’m ready for the morning. We wouldn’t want to be late the one occasion Prince Caldrast is actually on time...”
That had, Twilight fumed, been ridiculously optimistic. They had already been awaiting in the spacious, empty expanse of the meeting hall for an hour. Shining stood at the rear of the room, with Razor Sharp and the party’s small diplomatic staff of four slightly-haggard looking ponies. Cadance was chatting to Spike in a low voice, doing her best to keep him from getting too bored while they waited. Twilight felt another surge of affection for her little guy, since once again, Spike had refused flat-out to be left behind, even after yesterday’s gruelling trial.
Just before she reached her last nerve, the far doors opened and Prince Caldrast swept in, followed by his own staff of brightly-dressed servitors. Twilight would not have been surprised if he’d been sitting there the entire time, just watching them steep for his own amusement.
The Grand Prince was large for an alphyn, almost the size of Celestia, but much more heavily built. Even through his fine robes of office, the thick knots of corded muscle stood out. Proof indeed that Caldrast had achieved his position as much by physical force in the honour-duels as by his political machinations. More subtle signs that he was still ready for action at a moment’s notice were in the manner of his adornment. His glowing-coal-orange fur was impeccable, as was his finely-styled steel-blue mane. But both were cut rather shorter than was the typical fashion. The Grand Prince did not choose to gaud either his tail with ribbons or rings like many of his courtiers, leaving it bare to weave mockingly above his head. The rings that were his seals of office he carried around his neck on a chain, rather than on his talons.
And there was that damned smirk again. Only for a moment, but with something else behind it, too...
“Ah,” the Prince rumbled, his deep voice effortlessly carrying across the larger and empty chamber. “Good morning to you, my esteemed guests! I do hope you slept well!”
Twilight bowed, ruthlessly quashing her feelings and mustering up as genuine a smile as she could manage. To the right, she could see Cadance doing the same. Shining, acting as guard with Razor Sharp, bowed but was, at least, spared having to smile. To her left, Spike bowed with a flourish and then settled down, quill and scroll at the ready.
“Good morning, Prince Caldrast,” Twilight answered. “We did indeed,” no thanks to you, she silently added. “I hope today we can close the trade negotiations to your satisfaction and start enjoying the benefits of closer relations between our countries.” She forced herself to smile as brightly as she could.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Caldrast said, waving aside her words with the same disregard he always did. The alphyn settled himself into a chair so ornate it was within a stone’s throw of a throne. “Let me come to the point.
“I am prepared to sign your trade agreement.” He held up a claw. “But there is one more condition.”
It took every iota of Twilight’s willpower not to grind her teeth together. Beside her, she noticed the merest flicker in Cadance’s serene visage and wished she had even that level of poise, much less Princess Celestia’s.
“What, if I may be so bold,” she said, just barely managing to not grind the words out, “is it this time?”
Caldrast actually smiled – not just his little half-smirk, but an actual full-on grin of malicious delight. Twilight’s heart sank.
“Well,” Caldrast said, his voice full of fake cheer. “This morning the other Princes came to me. They are concerned that you have,” he paused smugly, pretending to search for words, “allowed yourselves to be put in a position of weakness during these negotiations. That you have been so very... conciliatory.”
There it was. Twilight bristled, stamping down the retort. They had made every effort, they’d followed the complex alphyn traditions and decorum of politeness and respect as honoured guests, which otherwise would have had them dismissed out of hand. They’d played his game all the way through. And somehow, he’d managed to turn that against them too. Twilight reminded herself that Equestria absolutely had to have this trade agreement and that she’d have to abide by this last amendment. And that convincing Celestia to melt Chasshall – or Caldrast personally – into a puddle was not an option, not matter how angry she was right now.
“Now, with all the trouble abroad nowadays,” Caldrast continued, “we can’t be seen to be having dealings with a weak power. You understand, of course. But fortunately,” he said, clapping his talons together, “there is an easy solution! One that will satisfy my princes.
“So, I will sign Equestria’s treaty... on condition that you defeat me in a Grand Honour Duel this afternoon.” Grand Prince Caldrast leaned back in his chair looking utterly pleased with himself.
There was a gasp of shock from the Equestrian staff. Shining had instinctively taken a step forwards. Spike half stood, mouth open to protest before Cadance caught his eye, and he slumped back, mouth set in thin line. The claw holding the quill was shaking.
Twilight, for part, just stared at the smirking Prince for a moment in dull shock. He was actually going to challenge her – a guest – to an honour duel? And a public one at that, in the grand arena. That went against every rule in the Phynland etiquette rulebook – literally, she’d read fifteen permutations before setting out. Honour duels were very clearly an internal matter between alphyns. The very fact that Caldrast had enough sway to be able to fragrantly disregard the rules made a mockery out of his excuse.
No, Twilight, realised. This is what he’d been after from the start. He did have an ulterior motive, after all. The only question left was why. Not that it mattered.
“Alright, Prince Caldrast,” she snapped. “You’ll have your duel. I don’t mind telling you, I’ll be looking forward to it!”
Twilight would not have believed that Caldrast’s smirk could get any more wicked. She was wrong.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, waving an admonishing talon. “As the challenger, I am to decide who will fight me. I will not be fighting you, Princess Twilight...”
He rose to his feet and lazily raised one talon. “I’ll be fighting her.”
He was pointing at Cadance.
An hour later, Twilight was still shaking with anger and more than a little fear as she sat down in the box so graciously provided by the Prince to watch the proceedings. For once, they truly had the best seats in the house. Caldrast, it seemed, wanted them to witness every last moment of his triumph.
The Chasshall grand arena reminded Twilight more of the Classic Era coliseum. It was at least the size of the stadium in the Crystal Empire where they had held the Equestria Games. The sandy floor was surrounded by a high wall of white stone perhaps two or three times Twilight’s height. From the mountings in the wall, Twilight imagined that this might sometimes house pennants or banners, though none stood today. Twilight might have put that down to this being a last-minute event; but the rows of tiered seating were almost completely full of alphyns, a sea of waving tails and ribbons. Caldrast had obviously planned ahead of time. In fact, Twilight realised with dull surprise, it might have been exactly why he’d dragged out the negotiations so late yesterday.
The Equestrians had been given the Grand Prince’s own royal box, at the centre of the south side, on a platform that was higher than the surrounding seats and above the arena floor wall, which practically had them on top of the action. To either side, at a respectable distance, two smaller boxes housed the palatinate’s twelve lesser princes.
Twilight’s whole staff was seated in the box. Twilight hadn’t really wanted to bring Spike, but the alternative was to either leave him alone or split their small group and at this point, Twilight didn’t want to take that risk. Spike himself hadn’t wanted to be left behind either, though the way he was gripping the front of the box hard enough to leave indentations with his claws was a sign he was as unsettled as she was.
Shining had yet to arrive. Twilight had left him a moment to speak to Cadance alone before the duel began. Just... Just in case. Twilight blinked away furious tears. This could not be happening.
“You... you can’t!” Twilight had exploded, all ready to give up there and then. They’d just have to find some other way, there was no way she was going to let...
“Twilight.” Cadance’s calm voice cut through her churning emotions. “Breathe.” Twilight dutifully performed the breathing exercise.
“It’s okay,” Cadance continued. She turned back to Caldrast, looking him straight in the eye. “If this is what it takes, Prince Caldrast, I’ll do it.”
Caldrast had actually laughed with cruel glee. “The grand arena. One hour!”
He was still cackling as he swept out of the room.
Twilight had argued, but Cadance had been resolute. There was no time to try anything, no time to prepare Cadance. She didn’t even have any armour, which Caldrast was sure to wear; neither Shining Armor nor Razor Sharp – who himself looked as angry as Twilight had ever seen the normally stoic guard – were Cadance’s size, and the lack of time meant that they couldn’t even attempt to adjust it. Wearing ill-fitting armour would be worse than wearing none at all. All of which had to have been Caldrast’s intention all along; to ensure this duel would be as stacked in his favour as possible.
So Twilight and Spike had hugged Cadance fiercely in the cold stone chamber of the arena entrance, and left.
Twilight glanced over to Spike, who looked very pale, and so still. She reached out to winghug him, alphyn disapproval of public displays of affection be damned. Both of them needed it right now.
Twilight’s thoughts were interrupted as Shining entered the box, taking the seat to her right, opposite Spike.
“Hey, Spike,” he called, getting the little dragon’s attention. Shining floated over a container in his aura. “I made a quick stop, on Cadance’s instructions. She said she was worried about you.”
“She’s worried about me?” Spike repeated in disbelief. He opened the container to see it filled to the brim with gems. His eyes widened.
“We figured you might want some comfort food.” Shining smiled. “Go ahead.”
Twilight stared at her brother. “You bought him gems?”
“On Cadance’s orders,” Shining said with a self-deprecating half-grin.
Spike’s pleading gaze was more than Twilight could handle at the moment. If it brought him some comfort... She nodded her affirmation. Spike immediately crammed a clawful of topaz into his mouth and his posture loosened a little. Twilight kept her wing around him, wanting to make sure if... anything happened... she could cover his eyes.
Shining gave them both a comforting smile. “Spike, Twily. It’ll be okay. I promise.” And then the trumpets sounded.
Grand Prince Caldrast entered from directly opposite the royal box. He was preceded by several servants, and the marshal who was to oversee the duel, in resplendent vivid red.
Caldrast himself was armoured. To Twilight’s mild surprise, it was not full, heavy plate armour, but a suit made of some sort of dark, modern flexible plating which looked even more intimidating in its professionalism. Twilight was also certain it would be enchanted for good measure. Two of the servitors bore huge scabbards, which Twilight imagined must house a sword maybe six or seven feet long. The servant that stood near Caldrast bore the most ornate of the two, no doubt the Grand Prince’s personal blade.
The trumpets sounded again, and Cadance entered from directly below the royal box. Alone and unarmoured, she looked very small compared to her hulking opponent.
She stopped the designated distance from her opponent, looking him in the eyes. From her position, Twilight thought she looked remarkably calm... but so fragile.
The marshal stepped forward. His tail whipped in a short pattern, a pale green aura coating it, and when he spoke, his voice carried effortlessly through the entire arena.
“I call all to witness the Grand Honour Duel between Grand Prince Caldrast Nemathator V and Princess Cadance of Equestria and the Crystal Empire.
“The Grand Prince makes the challenge. Should he be defeated, he shall cede his signature to the Equestrian’s trade agreement.
“Once the duel begins, it shall end only when the one accepts the surrender of the other or in the death of one or both combatants.”
Twilight grimaced and beside her, Spike shuddered. She hugged him tighter.
“The combatants may not leave the arena until the duel is over: to leave before forfeits the user’s life to the other. Flight is permitted, but only within the boundary of the arena, which is to say the height of the arena building itself.”
Twilight scowled. That comment was directed at Cadance, ensuring that her only other advantage over the Prince – her wings – would be seriously curbed. Alphyns possessed considerable jumping prowess. Twilight had no doubt one in as good condition as the Prince would have little difficulty reaching her with a running leap, even before taking into account any magic he might have himself.
“The use of magic is permitted, subject to the prior restrictions.
“The combatants will now be issued with their weapons.”
The Grand Prince took a step forward. His servitor bowed deeply, and, holding the scabbard parallel to the ground, proffered the hilt of the sword. Caldrast reached out with his right arm and drew the blade with one motion, his tail beginning a steady dance, flickering with yellow light as it also took some of strain telekinetically. The Grand Prince’s sword was pitch black, the blade with wicked-looking jagged edges. Twilight just about made out runes on the surface, before Caldrast made a sweeping motion, and the blade exploded into bright flames so sudden and intense that many of the watchers – including Cadance – flinched back.
Caldrast made a wordless mocking bow, and gestured to the other scabbard-bearing servant. Cadance’s blue aura wrapped around the hilt and drew the blade out rather more slowly. Cadance wrinkled her nose with distaste as she regarded the wide, heavy blade, holding it at horn’s length. It was functional, but little else; a little tarnished with age, pitted in one or two places, but it did appear, at least, to be usable.
The marshal spoke again. “Do the competitors have any final words before the duel begins?” Though his comment was directed at both alicorn and alphyn, it was clear he was truly only awaiting his liege’s leave to start the duel.
Caldrast seemed content to draw out the moment, as he looked to Cadance. When he spoke, he did not use magic, but simply raised his voice loud enough for all to hear.
“This is the part where you make some impassioned speech to change my heart, is it not? When you persuade me to see the error of my ways and we all have tea together? Is that not how you Equestrians always work, oh princess of love?”
“Would you listen if I did?” Cadance asked, with resignation.
“Of course not,” Caldrast chuckled.
“Then I won’t speak to you.” Cadance’s horn glowed again, as when she spoke, her voice was amplified like the marshal’s had been. If Caldrast was impressed, he gave no sign.
And Cadance spoke. She spoke not to Caldrast, but to the watching alphyns. She spoke of Equestria’s friendship, of their hopes for a better, happier world. Of how they had come to Phynland in good faith, to cement a bargain that would better both their countries, emphasising how the alphyns would gain. Of how hard Twilight had worked to reach this agreement. Of how much Equestria and Phynland would gain by sharing each other’s strength. She appealed to their better natures. She spoke of every virtue she had encountered here and at home. She spoke even when she knew that it would fall on deaf ears. She spoke, because it was the right thing to do.
“That’s my girl,” Shining murmured. “You tell ‘em, sweetie!”
“I don't understand!” Twilight snapped. “How can you be so calm! Cadance is down there in mortal danger! And you... you...!”
She trailed off. Shining stared at her in surprise for a moment then stopped as a sudden realisation dawned on him. He laid a comforting hoof on her shoulder.
“Twily... I'm sorry. Really sorry. You... really don't know, do you? That's why you're so upset.”
“Know? Know what? What do you mean?” Twilight demanded, keeping half an eye on the arena below.
“Cadance will be fine, trust, me. Look, she–”
“Fine? Fine? She's about to fight in arena with a creature twice her size! Hay, he has a sword twice her size! How can she possibly be fine?” A few locks of hair sprung loose from her head.
Shining stared at her worriedly for a moment, considering how best to get through to her when she was in this state. Spike, concerned, tried to split his attention between the arena and agitated alicorn.
“All done?” Caldrast asked when Cadance fell silent at last.
“I guess I am. No sudden change of heart?”
“Alas, no.”
“Just a question left, then,” Cadance said, dropping amplification spell and speaking only to Caldrast, her voice betraying nothing. “Why all this? This was clearly what you wanted from the start. What will you gain?”
Caldrast chuckled. “What do I gain?” He too spoke more quietly. “I could say it would be the humiliation of Equestria, most especially in the failure of its newest Princess,” his gaze flicked briefly to the royal box, “on her first major diplomatic mission. I could say the weakening of Equestria’s power and reputation. I could say it cements my own position, standing and power.
“But all of that is merely... incidental.
“It is all fleeting, you see. Power, position... Wealth, concubines, children... All gone, in time. But history... History remembers. And history will remember me.
“It will remember that I outmanoeuvred one of Equestria’s precious Princesses. It will remember me as a slayer of an alicorn!” Caldrast grinned manically. “The fact that it will be the least of them hardly matters... After all, history remembers only the winners. Do we not remember the famous pincer movement of Hannibull at the battle of Canneigh? But how many fewer remember the low quality of his opponent’s generalship?”
Cadance looked at him, slightly stunned. “This is... this is what you went to all this trouble for? I have met some egomaniacs in my time, but... wow.”
“Egomaniac, I might be, but I shall at least be an egomaniac history remembers!” Caldrast pronounced triumphantly.
“Um, okay,” Shining said at last, watching the unheard exchange of words between the two combatants. “Let me try and explain it this way. What is Princess Celestia?”
“Uh... an alicorn? What does this have to do with–” Twilight started, confused by the abrupt change of subject.
“Humour me,” her brother replied. “No, what I mean is, what is her job, no... Her... title? Maybe? Aside,” he added quickly, “from being the one of the rulers of Equestria?”
“The... Princess of the Sun?” Twilight replied, wondering where her BBBFF was going with this.
“Right. And what is Princess Luna?”
“Princess of the Moon?” Spike chirped up, a claw full of rubies.
Shining glanced at him and nodded, before turning back to Twilight. “And you?”
“Princess of Friendship.” Twilight said with more certainty.
Shining nodded once more. “And Cadance?”
“Protector of the Crystal Empire.” Twilight said it, almost without thinking, and then stopped.
Shining smiled again in answer. “One of those things is not like the others, right?”
Cadance sighed, closing her eyes with resignation. “Okay, then.”
“The Peryton have a legend, you know,” Caldrast hissed, eyes sparkling with maniacal glee. “They say that they cast a shadow that is not their own, until they eat the heart of the creature their shadow forms. And only then do they cast a shadow of themselves. What shadow, I wonder, will I cast, when I eat your heart, Princess?”
Cadance opened her eyes, her expression clear and determined. “And now I feel a lot less sorry about this,” she muttered under her breath. The blue glow around her weighty blade disappeared, and it crashed to the floor, where the impact puffed up a small cloud of dust.
“You yield already?” Caldrast sneered, his voice rising to address the masses once more. “I had hoped you might at least put up a token effort...”
“No,” Cadance replied cheerfully, amplifying her voice again as well. “Thanks, but I don’t need to borrow your sword. I have my own.”
Caldrast laughed. “Surely you cannot be so foolish. I know of your Crystal Empire's crystal blades. While such a fragile weapon might serve to fight a pony, it cannot stand against a blade like mine!”
Above, Twilight grimaced. Caldrast had a point. She had seen the crystal blades used before in the Empire. Created by a modified crystallisation spell, they formed a thin blade not unlike a rapier. They were fast, light weapons, but even magically reinforced crystal was fragile. Against Caldrast's heavy sword, he would have both the advantage of reach and power. Surely Cadance knew that, she’d be better off with–
“Oh, I don't know how make one of those,” Cadance replied guilelessly.
Caldrast blinked, abruptly taken aback.
“Been meaning to get around to learning,” she continued conversationally, as her horn lit, “but I never seem to find the time. But,” she said with a rather-too-bright smile. “I did learn this from Princess Celestia...”
Her horn glowed, and above her head a nebulous pale blue field began to appear, shimmering blue sparks of light scattering outward. Within the field, the magic began to take solid shape.
Twilight shot Shining a surprised glance. She recognised the spell from its description in various texts – some historical, some magical – though she had never seen it cast before in person.
“Princess Celestia taught her to summon her own divine weapon?” Twilight knew from history, that in the long-past years when Celestia (and presumably Luna too) had been called to fight at the head of an army, she had created a spell that wove itself into a physical weapon, a manifestation of herself in weapon form, as beautiful and terrible as the sun. It was not something that even Celestia herself had used for a long time. In the days before she no longer took the field, she had relied on other magic, as the unfortunate art of battle magic had evolved. So for her to teach Cadance, of all ponies, seemed... more than a little strange, as by all accounts, it was a rather complex spell.
Shining chuckled quietly. “Twily... what do you think Cadance did before the Empire returned?”
Twilight stared at him in surprise. “I... don’t know. We lost touch after she stopped being my foalsitter. I... just thought she was off doing... I don’t know, princess-y things?” That sounded odd, even to herself, now she said it out loud. As Celestia’s personal student, she hadn’t seen Cadance around very often, but had chalked that up to her own increasing reclusiveness and then to the fact she had been in Ponyville. But now that she thought about it, she saw Cadance far less than she ought to have had if Cadance hadn't been doing something else. The thought that she might not know about part of one her family’s lives was rather unsettling. “So... what was she doing?”
“Well, somepony had to keep dealing all the crises that keep popping up, right?” Shining said jovially. “The ones the Guard couldn’t handle. Who do you think dealt with all the villains and monster attacks before you and the girls came along?”
“I... never really thought about it.” Twilight blinked. “You mean that... Cadance...? But she’s... Her special talent is love, isn’t it?”
Shining’s gaze drifted over to his wife and the complex matrix of the spell she was weaving as Caldrast watched, nonplussed but apparently unconcerned.
“Twily, why do we fight? The monsters and villains, I mean. You and I, the princesses, the guards... Why do we do what we do?”
“To... protect ponies,” Twilight answered slowly. “Because they can’t protect themselves. Because it’s the right thing to do?”
Shining turned his gaze back to Twilight. “All true, but keep going. What makes us want to – or need to – do that? What made you finally snap and fight Tirek?”
Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “He blew up my house! And he nearly...” She shuddered. “He nearly...! He... Owliscious...”
“And that made you mad.”
“Of course it did, it–”
“But more than that, it gave you strength, right? To fight? Why?”
“Because,” Twilight began hotly, “he threatened somepony I...
“...love...” she finished, her eyes widening.
The coruscating field from Cadance’s spell intensified, tinting the arena with a soft blue glow and throwing everything into sharp relief.
Shining beamed. “We fight to protect, to defend: out of love, out of compassion. Aren’t we at our strongest, when we’re defending our loved ones?
“You and the girls wield the power of Friendship and you’ve worked miracles with it. The power of Love is just as strong, too. But it’s more intense, more focussed – often more personal... And when dealing with someone that threatens it, someone who won’t back down, who won’t repent...it can also be less forgiving.
“This,” he said, indicating his cutie-mark with a nod of his horn, “represents me, and the guard, and our desire to protect – to shield – the citizens of Equestria from harm. But sometimes, as you know yourself, that’s not enough.”
“Which is why Cadance and I make a good team. I’m the shield...”
With a flare of her horn, Cadance finished her spell. With a last flash of light, the matrix coalesced into the solid form of a sword.
The first thing about it everyone noticed, was that it looked exactly like the sort of sword a young filly dreaming of being a princess might have drawn in crayon[1]. It was pink. It was gold. There were red gems in the shape of hearts imbedded in it. The word “delicate” and “fluted” were definitely applicable, and “frilly” was watching from over the fence with a keen eye. Little pink love-hearts rose off the blade into the air above it and popped with bright sparkles.
It was, in fact, the single most feminine, girly-looking sword that any of the observers had ever seen.
It was, in fact, so stereotypically feminine that it took all of the observers a few seconds to register the second thing about it.
Which was that it was ten feet long.
Shining turned to the Twilight who was staring with shock, jaw agape, and gently reached a hoof to close her open mouth.
He grinned wickedly. “... and Cadance is the sword.”
[1] This was, in fact, not entirely far from the truth.
You got a signal boost from Skywriter.
http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/506465/signal-boosting-the-heart-of-the-matter
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He is a true gentlestallion and a scholar!
(And also partly responsible, as he both generously volenteered to pre-read and his interest in the idea being final impetus for me to actually sit down a Write A Thing...!)
Came over from Skywriter's blog, do not regret it one bit. I love everything about this, but this:
takes the fuckin' cake. I'm definitely faving this to keep an eye on it.
We don't get a lot of stories about Cadance, so it's always great to see a new one come along. Definitely a great start for a story and a very well handled premise.It also helps that, all things considered, Cadance is the most mysterious of the Princesses (yes she is, Luna fans) so she's really a blank canvas for a background story, and I'm digging this take so far.
If Skywriter is reading this, thanks for sending me this way!
Twilight was momentarily shocked to silence, but she regained her serenity and performed her breathing exercise before a faint curve came to her lips, the only genuine smile she'd managed to give Prince Caldrast in days.
"Spike, take a letter!" Force of habit overcame the tension Spike, like the rest of the delegation, had been under, and he was ready with a fresh scroll before Twilight had finished her sentence.
"Dear Princess Celestia," Twilight began, closing her eyes for her dictation. Caldrast's mouth parted slightly in confusion during the pause before she continued, "Today I learned that although acceding to every demand a new acquaintance makes may seem to be the friendly thing to do, and a way of avoiding conflict, especially when the person you are working with can offer reasons why they need you to accommodate them. But when you are the only one making concessions, you may begin to appear weak, inviting more demands upon you, until they are more than anyone should give or any friend would ask. In the best friendships, everyone is strong, and each is ready to both ask for and offer compromises with her friends. Your representative, and ever your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle."
Caldrast was still a few seconds, then began to laugh.
He was cut short by Twilight, her voice much lower and words clipped as she said, "Which is why, Prince Caldrast, I'm making a condition of my own; I wouldn't want to taint you with weakness by association, after all. We will have our Honor Duel first, and it will begin . . ."
Twilight disappeared in a violet flash, and a wide-eyed Caldrast managed to bark, "I won't be—" before a second flare, much nearer, blinded him.
". . . now."
One transmogrification and one hour later, the remains of a much smaller and rounder, but only slightly less orange, Caldrast featured prominently in the fruit cocktail drinks Twilight, Shining Armor, and Spike sipped as they waited for the marshal to announce Cadence's Honor Duel from the royal box. As the marshal strode into the arena, Spike decided to offer one final, and first, enthusiastic expression of appreciation for their host. "Well, at least the Prince finally provided us some decent refreshments!"
[Pan out, fading to black as the three laugh, the marshal beginning his speech as Cadence stands proudly and confidently in the arena floor.
Text overlay: Prince Caldrast V would be immortalized in history as the only ruling Grand Prince Palatine of Phynland to fail to appear in an Honor Duel for which he had issued the challenge.
As a result of the trade agreement, orange imports to Phynland skyrocketed, soon overtaking all other fruits in popularity as the base ingredient of fruit cocktail drinks.
After all, an orange-based drink is a sure sign of a winner.]
More seriously, I've enjoyed this, but it almost feels like a one-shot, as cutting it off where the chapter ends leaves a pretty complete story. It's something that invites the reader's imagination to fill in the end, wrapping it all up in a neat little bow, so the duel itself and completion of the negotiations aren't even needed, and Twilight already leaves with a changed understanding of Cadence, her brother, and her own place in Equestria.
All that said, I'm quite interested in seeing how you decide it plays out, and how it will be expanded, especially given the world-building elements introduced.
Cue beatdown in 3...2...1...
Here also via Skywriter, and looking forward to more.
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Skywriter made that observation himself, actually: I probably could have left this as it stands.
But I figured if it was me, reading this by someone else, I'd totally have wanted to see what happens next!
Plus, it gives Cadance a chance to shine in an environment where she can fight Caldrast without worrying about a him getting any support (like trying to turn him into an orange would have resulted in...![1]) Next chapter (about 75% written currently) is mostly from her point of view.
[1] To completely derail your joke with my usual penchant for totally unnecessary analysis; if they had tried that, it wouldn't have been a proper honur duel, and would have effectively been a striaght-out attack on the country's monarch, upon which all the other alphyns would have jumped in on. Even the alphyns that might not like Caldrast would have been offended at that and it would have garenteed Equestria wouldn't have gotten the deal. (And as good as Twilight and co are, they can't beat an entire nation into submission by themselves. For that matter, the diplomatic staff might not have gotten out unhurt.)
But, of course, you did illustrate exactly why Caldrast didn't want to be going up against Twilight - because he basically assumed that would be a likely result himself - and (wrongly, as it turned out) thought that the pretty pink princess was a much more viable target.
I'm interested to see where this is going. Is Cadance going to teach Twilight magic sword making and swordfight after this?
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You're quite welcome!
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Hey, that's what unnecessary analysis is for! And it's not like I don't do the same.
But it should be noted:
It's not like what happened was a proper Honor Duel either. It was, in effect, a straight out attack on another country's monarch, just an attack that was ill-advised. Part of the issue is that, as Twilight observed, their respect for principle, protocol, and probity were subsumed by that for the prince's power. They should have been jumping in on Cadence's behalf, and Twilight's before hers. Their "honor" is such a sham it's easy to spin it around to them happily accepting even the barest pretense of legitimacy if it comes from one more powerful than they are individually. And that is something that will always invite comedy.
I like the lore you've built up here! This whole thing is very interesting and I look forward to the next chapter.
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The alphyns are rather "one rule for us, one other rule for Foreigners" so, a bit like the colonial-era British, they would have got all offended that the Equestrians weren't playing their game.
The second, more pertinent point is that Cadrast is a schemer. You notice that the royal party has only two guards? That was the admission price of even letting them into the paltinate. While he has made on grevious tactical error (though to be fair, and understandable one, since even Twilight didn't know it herself), you don't get to be in his position without preparing for contingencies. If they'd have kicked off outside of where, in his arrogance, Caldrast assumed he had an overwhelming advantage, they'd have found that Caldrast's own guards were standing just out of sigth, ready to pounce in this exact circumstance. (His royal robes, would, incidently, be stacked up with all sorts of defensive enchanments, come to that - it's not like was going to go in there unprepared.)
A stand-up fight in the audience hall would not have been his ideal plan, but it would give the at least the chance of killing one or two Princesses and at the very least humiliating Equestria, since it would have been they that first struck the first blow. (It would be a PR disaster, and you would be able to hear the Cusith laughing all the way from Necanis.)
If it resulted in outright war - not entirely unlikely... Well. Let us just say that while I have not specified exactly why the Golden Star Orchid is so badly needed (that might be a story for another time; one that's been kicking around in my head since season one and whose length has always put me of beginning), there is one; and one such that Equestria would not be wanting to commit to a war with Phynland over.
Especially since war might encourage the Cusith - currently cowed by the sudden emergance of more than one alicorn - that maybe it is time to deliver a killing blow to their most hated enemy, while they were so distracted. While alphyn magic is a little weaker than pony magic, the Cusith are basically on absolutely even terms with the ponies and their magic is nastier (death, disease, poison); worse, it's not even a direct opposite of Harmony Magic or anything, which would be easier to counter. They even had their own paragons - equivilent to alicorns - at one point.
(The last one was killed by Celestia during the last and utterly disaterous attempt by an invading allied force of nations (of which she was very reluctantly a part) to defeat the Cusith as a nation. Pro-tip: do NOT attempt to invade a land of people who are both immune to disease and can use their specialised disease magic with impunity. It will not end well... That IS a story - or at least a world-building historical note - for another time.)
(It is worth noting that the Cusith are the only race this Celestia had banned outright from entering the borders. They are that much bad news.)
If Cadrast had even the slightest inclining that Cadance was not the walkover he expected (and he wasn't so blinded by his own ego and was content just to screw Equestria over for the PR), he should have challenged Shining Armor, or better, Razor Sharp or Spike or possibly even one of the diplomatic staff, whom he would have stood a much greater chance of getting his victory.
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You never know...
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*tips helmet*
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I hope, and I'd like to see it.
6160012 Yes. He should have used his giant flaming sword against Spike.
"Ow! Stop hitting me with that!"
"Do you yield?"
*crunch* *chew chew chew*
Good to see this on site, and I'm glad there is going to be a part two. One assumes Caldrast is about to receive a friendship lesson...
It's a small issue, but I see this happening in more and more stories, and I'm very confused by it. When, Aotrs, have we ever seen Spike in canon shy away from or reject a hug from any character, and especially not from Twilight? He's a very "huggy" little guy, and it's a big part of who he is. Was there a particular reason why you chose to imply he doesn't like getting hugs? Neat story in any case. It took quite the turn there with the duel, and you handled it well.
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...
...
That is a good question.
You know, I could have sworn that on occasion he's displayed typical boy-aversion to perceived sappiness a time or two (which would follow with him being sometimes slightly averse to Twilight over-mothering him, the whole "Mom/sister-get-off" sort of way), but I'll be (more) damned if I can think of an example, even having recently been working through the DVDs of the series.
So, is it possible I am guilty of simply projecting an attirbuted fanon onto him or merely steriotypical young-boy traits, or simply projecting personally[1]?
Throwing this question to the boards then: can anypony else cite an example?
[1]One of the major advantages to (my particular form of) Lichdom is that people don't touch you, as they tend to fall over and die. I do not, nor have ever done, physical affection...
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After careful consideration, a night's meditation and consultation with my local ponythread (who couldn't remember anything either, and in fact recalled more evidence to the contrary), I have modified that line thusly to retain the general thrust:
... as on close examination, I could not fathom a good reason as to why I had written the previous that stood up to close scruteny.
(I would apologise to Spike, but I think implying he didn't like hugs under my errant pen is probably getting away lightly compared to Twilight's fate on the original version of the cover art...!)
So thank you for pointing that out and it the words of Best Pony:
i.imgur.com/us0sn.png "I just don't know what went wrong!"
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The sole time in the series we see Spike push away from Twilight is when she's trying to give him a tissue in Dragonquest (when he wanted answers, not consolation, and it wasn't a hug he was pushing away from anyway, so moot point on my part). Other than that, he's always been a very clingy little guy. This gets ignored quite a bit, and as I said you're hardly the first author I've seen do it.
I spent a good hour researching heraldic animals thanks to this fic, just so you know.
Ha! Glad I finally got around to reading this. It says something of your skill at writing, at least of this variety, that although I knew what was coming (indeed, if I remember correctly I may have helped inspire Shining's "I'm the shield..." many moons ago), I was edging forward in my seat as the predual progressed.
It is hilarious how much sense this makes.
...Although, shouldn't the marshal be using Cadance's full name, given the context?
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Thank you! I very rarely manage to simultaneously find the time, energy and a project short enough I think I can complete (and not start and never finish!) to actually write anything myself, but occasionally, I manage.
(This one came in, I think, just barely before my hobby CAD work became my day-job and I had less time to spend on stuff like this.)
It was well worth it, though - just having Skywriter be editor taught me a huge amount (and I wasn't terrible before!); and i have been able to pass the favour on to a friend of mine writing his own story.
Corrections offered without malice.
is it this time?
arena
more ornate of the two,
thought
needs a space
until they eat
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Dangit. Apparently both Skywriter and I missed those.
Not sure I get what you think it wrong with this one:
Could you elaborate?
Think this is maybe more stylisitic choice than wrong? (Though - and I say this without trying to being facetious or anything - if you can explain what is grammatically wrong with it, I'm quite willing to be educated,)
Fixed the others, thanks!
(For the record, I don't object at all to constructive critism, nor certainly to pointing out my typos! Skywriter himself was fairly judicious in pre-reading (to the point the dear chap asked if he was being too harsh!), but it was all to the good. Even just writing this one story improved my writing ability thanks to him - something I was able to pay forward to my mate who was writing his own story.)