Book One: Chapter Ten: Medicine, Politics, and Faith
Myths and Birthrights
By Tundara
Book One: Awakening and Arrivals
Chapter Ten: Medicine, Politics, and Faith
The carriage rolled quickly through the moon-bathed streets of Canterlot, jostling its solitary occupant as it made turns far sharper than needed. The pony at the reigns had been told, in no uncertain terms, that his fare needed to reach the palace with all haste. Not a moment to be lost. Taken by dreams of a daring chase, or the foul work of an assassin or spy in the making, he’d sped off at once.
Not that the pony inside the carriage noticed the rougher than normal passage through the city.
He leaned on his hoof, staring out the window at the valley so far bellow, mind pre-occupied with the missive he’d received three nights hence. A missive sealed with the royal crest.
A lean, middle-aged stallion, he was remarkable only in how unkempt he looked, brown mane cut short and scraggly and his creamy-white coat unbrushed. Even the vest he wore, the gold chain of a pocket watch dangling down his front, was unremarkable and a little faded, with old coffee stains around the collar its only distinguishing feature. This image of blandness ended at the stallion’s eyes, a pair of cold, calculating watery orbs that seemed to stare through other ponies, making them shiver and avoid conversation.
He tossed an extra two bits to the driver on reaching the palace’s side entrance, making his way past the guards with only a curt nod and presentation of the letter he’d received. Thrice he had to stop to ask for directions before he found his way to a reading room. The guards at this door give him far more trouble, looking the disagreeable stallion over as they checked the letter, ensuring authenticity, before letting him pass.
A well furnished room filled with dark maple bookshelves stuffed almost to overflowing, cushions placed throughout, and a low tea table sitting before a crackling fireplace created a warm atmosphere that was solid and homey. Book floating before her, Celestia hardly glanced up as the door opened. Placing a bookmark to mark her spot, she turned her full attention on her visitor.
“Dr. Timely Crown, I presume?”
Timely made a leg, saying, “At your service, Your Divine Highness.”
Showing no reaction to the title, Celestia waved him to a cushion while reaching for a bottle of wine.
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said in a low voice, taking the proffered glass as he settled himself across from her.
Topping her own glass—Celestia had been relaxing for some time already—she asked, “Do you know why you are here, Dr. Crown?”
“Not the foggiest, ma’am. Your letter was brief and wonderfully worded, but you did dance around the point most marvelously. ‘Come at all haste on a matter of the utmost urgency’, was the most pertinent line.”
“Yes, I’m sorry for the secrecy involved.” Celestia emitted a short laugh.
“I must confess, ma’am,” Timely began as he set his wine down, “I am confused as to what purpose calling a simple medical stallion such as myself could entail. Surely, you have your own physicians, should you require such services. Plus, I’ve hardly practiced my trade by land in many years, and, as you are no-doubt aware, the medicine of the sea is a far cry from that of my terrestrial peers.”
Celestia inclined her head, her humour fading. “I am, indeed. It is precisely for your expertise of medicine of a nautical nature that I summoned you, however.”
“Truly?”
“My cousin will soon be departing on a voyage for Zebrica,” Celestia explained, taking from her desk an old tome and passing it to Timely. “I have it on good authority that you are one of the best doctors within the navy. Lord Sail suggested you immediately when I told him of the nature and duration of the voyage.”
Timely took the tome with reverent hooves, admiring its wood bound cover. “Did he? That is rather handsome of him.” He patted the tome a couple times, then set it aside, laying it down next to him. “I should tell you, ma’am, that I can not accept, no matter how much seeing the fauna of Zebrica would delight me to no end. Why, the leopard and the Zebrican Golden Cat alone would be a dream to view! To say nothing of the monkey or the fabled chimp. What I would give to see a chimp in her native habitat… But no, quite impossible.”
A frown graced Celestia’s lips as Timely stood and began to bid her a good-eve.
“And why is that?”
He seemed confused for a second, head tilted to the side, watery eyes scrunched together.
“Why, because I made a promise.”
“To your friend, Captain Hardy?”
Timely gave a start at the name, then settled, muttering, “Of course you know his name. You would have done your research, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Celestia repeated as Timely returned to his cushion, folding his legs beneath his barrel. “His name came up among the possible candidates to captain this voyage.”
From her desk Celestia retrieved a manila folder thick with documents. Opening it and laying it on the table, she pulled out a few sheets of parchment, dense writing in a cramped script filling every available space.
“He has had a distinguished career. Captured a half-dozen pirates plying our waters. Has completed two voyages to the Inponesian Islands. Been to the edge of the disc and back. A glowing list of recommendations by his peers and a few within the Admiralty. If not for this business about his sister being a Radical—siding with Blackwell during the extended night caused by my sister’s return, and the constant calls for dissolving the crown—he’d have been made a Baronet by now.”
Celestia tucked the loose sheets back into the folder. Atop the folder she placed a new sheet of parchment, one headed by the Royal Crest, and below it that of the Admiralty. Without a shred of doubt, Timely knew they’d be orders for Hardy to take command of whatever ship it was that would carry Princess Twilight to the central continent.
“By the time you return to Baltimare, he will have already received his orders and instructions. You were invited here to receive your own, as well as the tools you’ll need.” Celestia indicated with a nod the tome. “You’ll find within its pages everything I’ve been taught and uncovered on alicorn physiology, Dr. Crown.”
Glancing back to the tome, Timely’s features went to one of wonder, losing their angry edge. Turning back to Celestia, he asked, “Why me? Surely the Royal Physician would be more appropriate.”
“That was my initial thought as well, but, when I asked him, he confessed his lack of knowledge when it comes to the techniques employed at sea.”
An amused snort erupted from Timely.
“I am not surprised. The ocean’s aetherial currents play havoc on the sensitive equipment the doctors have become so reliant upon, to say nothing of the jostling and rolling, the damp and the salt-spray. A blessing of fools. Take away their devices and enchanted stones and they are as lost as the lowest apprentice. My loblolly filly could do better.”
Celestia shared his amusement, stating, “He said as much, though far less disparaging on his profession, naturally.”
Flipping the aged tome open, Timely began to skim its contents, his face flowing from wonder to confusion to wonder once more. Some sections he merely glanced at, while others he devoured. “Such knowledge within these pages… The quality of these diagrams. And these spell formulae… I do not recognize more than a quarter of the runes for any of them.”
“That is because they are lost. Even I can’t recall them anymore.”
“I find that difficult to believe, ma’am. To forget a rune is supposed to be impossible once it has been bound to your magic.”
Finishing her wine, Celestia simply gave a tired, mirthless laugh.
“It is possible to forget a rune, but the process is irreversible. Luna and I… we chose to give up a great many runes believing it would help protect our ponies from another Discord. At the time it seemed like the right decision. In retrospect…”
“The Third Reformation?”
Celestia just inclined her head.
Snapping the book shut, Timely stood once more.
“You have given me little choice, I find, ma’am. Very well, I will accept.”
At the door from the office, Timely hesitated, turning back to ask, “Ma’am, if it is not too presumptuous, but why travel by ship at all? Surely, Princess Twilight could teleport to Zerubaba, conduct whatever task awaits her, and be back in time for tea.”
“You never studied Abjurations?”
“I did not. Medicine and spellcraft are not so intertwined as they once were, as you know. I’m afraid I’m not the most adept caster around.”
Celestia smiled at the blunt honesty and curiosity behind the question.
“Teleportation is an interesting discipline, Dr. Crown. Twilight could go to the heavens, and from there gaze down on every city on the disc, learn every road, canal, forest or glen. And she’d never be able to use magic to reach them. It’s like looking down on a garden from the top of a tower. We can see the big, grand picture, and infer many of the details, but the perspective is all wrong. Unless you have a beacon to act as a guide, or some other method of scrying the location, long distance teleportation is too great a risk. This is atop the other sundry details of distance, power and so on. Ask Twilight about it, I’m sure she’d love to explain all the nuances involved.”
“I may do so, ma’am. We’ll certainly have the time.”
With their business completed, Celestia called for a page to help see the doctor out of the palace.
Silence broken only by the steady rhythmic tick-tock of a grandfather clock filled the Prench Ambassadorial manor. The servants had retired to the downstairs, sitting around an old weathered table as they shared stories, enjoying a late meal of the leftovers from their employer’s dinner. The laughter and friendly teasing didn’t reach Fleur or Fancy, the pair up in the library.
Fleur sat at her writing desk, a house-coat wrapped around her withers, a pot of steaming tea beside her, and a candle gently flickering from a sconce set in the wall. In her gentle golden-yellow magic hovered a quill, the tip dipping into an open inkwell before being returned to the open pages of a journal. Most of the page was already covered in Fleur's flowing cursive writing, little loops and flourishes showing throughout.
With a last flourish, Fleur finished transcribing her thoughts as the clock struck nine, the heavy chimes flowing through the otherwise still manor. Stifling a yawn, Fleur glanced over to Fancy, her husband sitting in his old chair, a book before his nose. She made a soft chidding noise as she began to put her writing tools away. Fancy refused to use the reading glasses she’d purchased for him the previous Hearth’s Warming Eve.
Her eyes drooped as she went to put the journal away.
A jolt snapped through Fleur. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she tried to banish the drowsiness descending on her like a heavy fog rolling along the valley below Canterlot.
It did little good.
A week of little sleep, and what she’d managed to sneak in the evening plagued by dreams, struck back with a determined force. Her chin fell to the surprisingly comfortable desk, eyes fluttering shut, and a whispering plea of, “Fancy,” before the dreams claimed Fleur, Equestria drifting behind a veil.
They first thing she noticed as the world returned to focus was the smell of incense and a distant, rhythmic chant. Fleur soaked up the warm smells as she marched down an open corridor, of sorts. There were no walls, only crenelated pillars that held up a painted ceiling. To one side sat a garden around a pomegranate tree, while on the other stretched an open plaza with an alicorn fountain. Ponies in robes, hoods drawn up to hide the faces of the stallions, or decked in beads and jewels for mares, traveled in small groups, pendants dangling from their necks proclaiming the goddess or god they served.
“Is she mad at us? Do you think she knows?”
Fleur glanced to her left, a pony striding in her shadow on long, powerful legs. Taller than Fleur, perhaps taller than even Celestia, the pony carried herself with pride and determination. Her coat was the colour of brown sugar, with yellow-green eyes like a pair of granny smith apples half hidden behind curling locks of her wheat toned mane, a chocolate stripe running just behind her horn. Clothed in a loose white dress with brown trim and a bronze peytral bearing her mark, bound stalks of wheat flanked by torches.
“It doesn’t matter.” Fleur shrugged, returning her attention forward.
Quick stepping to pull fully beside Fleur, her companion clicked her tongue, making a sound like a rock falling into a well.
“Mother is not to be taken lightly, Athena.”
Arching a brow, Fleur replied, “Neither am I, Demeter. She can’t know how far along our plans have progressed. We will save—”
“Heya!”
Fleur, to her credit, didn’t yelp. At least, not loudly enough for anypony other than Demeter to hear her.
Before her, not a feather’s width away, were a pair of eyes of a perfect crystal blue, perched above a flashing grin set into a candy-pink face.
Stumbling back, Fleur snapped, “Authea! How often must you be told not to do that?”
Tilting her head to one side like a confused dog, Authea drew her smile into a very slight frown. Short and plump, with wings that just reached the edge of her cutie mark, a stubby horn poking from her limp smokey-silver mane, Authea was far from pretty. She wasn’t precisely plain either, not with the shining amusement in her eyes, but a happy middle-ground.
“I’m sorry, I just got back from Olympus and, by Zeus’ beard, are my wings tired.” She waited a moment for perhaps a giggle from Fleur and Demeter, the pair exchanging weary glances instead. “No, really.” Authea sagged, leaning up against Demeter. “Have you ever flown from Olympus? It’s, like, forever and ever away! At least a thousand leagues.”
“Four hundred and fifty three, actually,” Demeter corrected with a snort, pushing Authea off of her. “And what were you doing visiting the Olympians after everything they’ve done?”
“I wasn’t. Well, not the Olympians, anyways. I was with Lachesis.” Authea punctuated her statement with a happy nod followed by a giggle. “She invited me to her cave at the mountain’s base.”
Fleur at once grew weary. She’d never heard the name, herself, but her dream-self seemed to know the pony in question.
“What does that hag want?”
“Want? Nothing. I think. She’s hard to read.” Authea tapped her chin in thought. “I mean, you know how she is always—”
Groaning with frustration, Demeter clarified, asking, “What did you talk about?”
“Oh! She told me why Hope had been fading lately, that there was a big storm coming that would travel across realms and alter the foundations of all our worlds. Or something like that. I wasn’t really paying attention at the time to busy poking around her cupboards. There is—”
“Hope is fading?” Fleur ruffled her wings—still an unusual feeling even after so many dreams. “Hope for what?”
“Just, Hope. All Hope.” Authea waved her hooves to encompass the entire temple, and perhaps the world beyond. “Makes me rather sleepy, actually. But she told me not to worry, that Hope would be restored.” A pause, in which Fleur began to push past Authea, only to stop as she heard, “Oh, and I was given a message that she said I had to tell you.”
When no message came, Fleur stopped to turn back to Authea, the other pony rocking from side to side as if she were about to fall over.
“You had something to tell me, cousin,” Fleur prompted.
“Huh? Oh! Um, how did it go. She said it had to be repeated just so. Let me think.” Thumping the side of her head hard enough to crack solid stone, Authea exclaimed, “I have it!
"Follow the Stars to the east. If she is to succeed, you must go to the east with her. But, beware the beasts three; the serpent of the seas, the dragon in the prison of gold, and the light that has become as shadow. Find the path to Wisdom’s daughter, tonight, in the court graced by the Moon. Only through their salvation will you find your own.”
Fleur frowned.
“I don’t have a daughter, Authea.”
“But you will!” Authea almost bounced on the spot, her wide smile returning. “Isn’t that exciting?”
“No.” Fleur pushed Authea back. “I have no desire for foals. And why must they speak in riddles? The whole thing is nonsense.”
Shrugging her wings, Authea said, “The message wasn’t for you, Athena. It was for Fleur.”
“Who, in all that is holy, is Fleur?” Fleur snarled, extending her wings and advancing a step on Authea.
Again, Authea shrugged. “I don’t know. All Lachesis said was that I had to tell it to you, and that it will reach Fleur de Lis, and she will know what to do.”
Stepping forward, a worried pinch to her brow, Demeter added, “The Fates are never wrong, cousin.”
“No, but they do—”
“Oh! I forgot something!” Authea jumped next to Fleur, grabbing her head and pulling it around so their noses almost touched. In a voice that boomed across valleys, she shouted, “Wake up!”
Fleur threw herself backwards to get away from Authea, tumbling from her desk and knocking over her inkpot in the process. Heart hammering in her chest, it took Fleur a few moments to recognise her library, with the steady ticking of her clock. A hoof on her side almost made Fleur jump out of her skin, coat standing on end and a startled ‘eep’ not dissimilar from that given in the dream filling the library.
“Love, are you alright?” asked Fancy, his mane laying flat against one side of his face from where he’d been leaning in his chair.
“I… Oui, I think so, bien-aimée.” Using one of her best smiles, Fleur rolled to her hooves, noticing with some distaste that ink was spreading across the carpet and had dotted her coat. Groaning at the mess, Fleur reached for her blotting paper, only to stop and watch in amazement as the ink slid off her coat, dripping onto the carpet. There was not a mark left behind, her coat prestine.
Looking to Fancy, she saw him wearing the same look of shock that thrummed through her.
“By Celestia’s mane… How?”
Brushing the question aside, Fleur began to mop up the ink, her mind racing as it replayed the dream. A glance at the clock showed it was just before seven. Nightcourt would open in a few hours, plenty of time to gather her things and reach the palace.
“Fancy, my love, do you trust me?” Fleur asked as she reached for the bell-string to summon Mr. Key.
A bit off-put by the question, it was almost a second before Fancy replied, “Of course, dear. To the edge of the disc, if necessary.”
“Then trust me that this,” Fleur gestured to where the ink had struck her, “isn’t the greater concern.”
“What happened? You dreamed again, didn’t you.”
“Oui.” Fleur didn’t expand right away, busy re-opening her journal and taking a fresh inkpot from a cabinet. Setting a quill to transcribing the most recent dream while it was still fresh in her thoughts, she explained what she’d experienced. “I know it seems foalish, Fancy, but I believe the dreams are messages. Why or how? I do not know, but I must follow them, wherever they may lead.”
Before Fancy could respond, Mr. Key appeared in the doorway, asking in his low tone, “You rang, My lady?”
“Oui. Have my carriage readied and brought out front at once. I must go to the palace. Oh, and have Miss Potts bring up a bucket of soapy water.”
“Very well, My lady.” Mr. Key’s eyes danced across his employers faces, the stain on the carpet, and the open journal with the quill darting unsupervised across its pages. “Carriage out front, and Miss Potts to clean.”
As Mr. Key left, Fleur turned to Fancy, expecting him to perhaps argue or suggest putting things off until tomorrow and going to Daycourt. Instead she found him staring at her.
“Fancy, are you alright?”
Stepping forward to nuzzle Fleur, he said into her mane, “No, but only because you are not.”
“I am fine, bien-aimée.”
“That is where you are wrong, love.” Fancy sighed, not breaking the nuzzle. “You just cast a Class Three Memory-Transcription spell without looking at your journal. Something I’ve never seen you able to do.”
Fleur’s blood chilled. She turned to the journal, watching the quill finish its work, ending with a sharp tap before settling into the quill pot.
“I see…” Fleur whispered. Collecting her saddlebags, Fleur slid her most recent journal inside. Placing the bags over her flanks, she gave Fancy a last, lingering smile. "I'll see you in the morning."
“You’re certain you wish to do this alone?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice and on his withers.
“Oui.” She kissed him on the bridge of the nose, then slipped towards the door, lingering for a moment in the space between the library and salon. “I need to do this alone, Fancy. You are always being the strong one, giving me the support I need. For once, it’s my turn. I’ll be back late.”
“I’ll wait for you. No need for you to return to a cold, dark home. I’ll have Miss Potts put on some tea at, say, one in the morning.”
Fleur smiled, shook her head in wonder at what she’d done to deserve such a stallion, and kissed him again. She was the matron, and it was supposed to be the matron who protected the rest of the herd, even if it was a herd of two. It always felt the other way around with Fancy.
Tossing on a light cloak to ward off the chill of Canterlot's spring night, Fleur stepped into the entrance hall where she was met by Mr. Key.
“The carriage is ready, just as you requested, My Lady,” he said as he opened the door, the doormare suspiciously absent.
Giving the head butler a slight smile, she asked, “Do you mean to dissuade me, monsieur Key?”
“Nothing of the sort, My Lady,” he chortled, walking her down the path to the waiting carriage. “I meant to wish you well and… and to say… and I mean no impertinence, but to say that we are all with you in this. Princess Luna will be able to help. I am certain of it.”
He gently closed the carriage door, gave the drivers a nod, and then stepped off the street, waiting until Fleur’s carriage disappeared around a bend before returning to the manor.
Few ponies were in the streets of Canterlot so late in the evening. A collection of drunken young mares and stallions staggered their way home from the social clubs. The occasional pair of royal guards strode past, eyes fixed ahead but taking in everything around them.
With the growth in activity among the stars in the nights following her presentation, there’d been a corresponding growth among evening parties. Star watching was the fad of the hour, with clubs staying open later and gardens filled with strings of candle lanterns. Fleur didn’t believe it would last long. The same reaction had followed Luna’s return, as had a downturn in activity after only a few months.
A crowd of revelers, slowly making their way towards the city’s edge, slowed and then stopped her carriage. Thanking the driver, Fleur went the rest of the way to the palace on hoof. She had the time for the stroll, a nearby clock tower proclaiming it was still a good half-hour before Nightcourt opened. Lifting her head, breathing in the crisp mountain air, Fleur took in the beauty of the night sky created by Luna and Twilight. A thin smile managed to tug at her lips as a pair of stars twirled and danced high above the Dragonsmoke Mountains to the west.
Fleur couldn't help but giggle as a couple of young lovers cooed at the stars' display while a pair of older stallions with night themed cutie marks just shook their heads and grumbled softly. Mutterings of discontent about the changes to the night had been growing among the more dedicated star watching community.
Even the other ambassadors and embassies had voiced concerns. While it would still be some time before the letters and missives from their homelands began arriving, asking about the sudden alterations and odd occurrences in the night, all the ambassadors knew they were coming. The Minoan delegation had gone so far as to proclaim the dancing stars a sign of the End Days. Most of the other ambassadors just rolled their eyes at the Minotaurs; not a week went by where something wasn't a harbinger of the end of the world, according to them.
Not everypony was concerned or upset with the changes. Like the young lovers on the terrace, there were many who enjoyed the displays. Painters, musicians, and poets in particular flocked to the stars antics, immortalizing the spectacle in their art.
Fleur had to wonder how the new, high-strung princess was handling the complaints and adoration.
A fair sized crowd stood outside the doors to the Nightcourt, quietly muttering to each other while a pair of Luna's Nightguards stood at attention. Between them, checking over her notes as she did every evening, stood Luna’s seneschal, Quick Quill.
Rather young for her position, Quick Quill was a dusky violet mare with a dull pink mane. Every few moments she blew a stray strand out of her eyes that had escaped from the prim bun she’d tied her mane into. Glancing up as Fleur approach, there was a moment of surprise behind her glasses that was quickly replaced by a look of pure business.
“Ambassador.” Quick Quill gave Fleur a shallow nod. “You have business with the Nightcourt?”
“Oui.” Fleur went to add more, but closed her mouth instead.
Quick Quill didn’t seem too interested or concerned, jotting Fleur’s name down and rearranging the list. While Celestia had a first-come, first-served policy, Luna operated Nightcourt in a more traditional manner. Traditional being synonymous with preferential, favouring ponies of importance over the commoners. It came as no surprise when Fleur’s name was moved to almost the top of the list.
Moving aside, Fleur glanced over the crowd. There were many commoners formed of a combination of the curious and those who had actual issues to be seen by the court. A cluster of astronomers stood with the head of their guild, Lord Parallax. Husband to Countess Lulamoon, the lord sneered at the commoners, every aspect of him oozing disdain and self aggrandizement, from the set of his withers to the inclination of his head.
A short distance from the lord and his entourage sat a group of dusk coated unicorns that could only be gypsies of some sort. They all wore vests or shawls of bright greens checkered with red and yellow, bandanas tied over their heads with their long horns just poking out. Gold hoops hung from their ears, and the stallions all had their tails docked while the mares wore bangles around their fetlocks. Playing a game of dice, the group paid no attention to the rest of the crowd.
She’d started to move on to the next portion of the crowd when the doors to the throne room were opened and they were ushered inside. The rows of seats from the presentation had been removed, and the twin thrones returned. Milling forward, the crowd formed a loose clump, with partial separations between the various groups.
Luna sat on her obsidian throne, a grin that was all business beneath her twinkling eyes, leaning down to speak with Twilight. The younger princess sat on a simple velvet cushion, her head held up to better hear Luna. It was hard to tell, but Fleur was sure she saw a deep blush on Twilight's cheeks. Both princesses looked over to the crowd as they entered and performed the traditional short bow.
Taking her place on Luna’s right, Quick Quill called the first pony forward.
Or, rather, group of ponies, as the blessing of unicorns Fleur had taken for gypsies made their way to the open space at the base of the steps to the thrones.
Sweeping into a low bow, the group’s leader said, “Princess, Goddess of Stars,” one of the astronomers snorted, “Daughter of Spring, I am Alanotte, of the Elesian herds, and we come bearing a gift for you.”
Fleur’s ears pricked forward after sorting through the mare’s heavy zbori accent. She’d never seen one of the highland unicorns from the border regions between the Old Queendoms and the domain of the Pegasi. Growing up she’d heard stories of the wandering unicorns, how they eschewed the mountains and forests for rolling hills, pulling their wagon-homes from town to town where they’d sell their magic potions and spellwork said to descend from those practiced by the ancient unicorns of Thuelesia, and Lost Marelantis.
She’d imagined them as being… taller.
The stout, solidly built unicorns were nothing like the tall, exotic ponies in the paintings and picture books in Prance. They didn’t even have the unshorn fetlocks or the wild, bushy tangled manes and tails.
Taking an object bound in dark satin from one of the stallions, Alanotte presented their gift.
“Our ancestors, in a time so long ago we have lost count of the years, were entrusted with the sacred duty of guarding one of the gifts of your herd.”
Arching a brow, but not saying anything, Twilight took the object and undid the cords binding the cloth. Lifting a fold, Twilight emitted a delighted little squeal, her magic moving faster to throw the rest of the satin aside to reveal a large book.
“This is amazing!” Twilight’s hooves traced patterns and symbols etched into the books surface, Fleur unable to make any of them out. “I’ve never seen such precise rune-work on a book before,” she said before turning to Luna and beginning to gush over the book’s various qualities. “A triple-decked, septuplet bound demiurgic latticed rune system weaved through a… No, this is impossible. What material is this? Nothing should be able to hold a glyph of this nature.”
Luna simply frowned at the book, then asked Alanotte, “Whom did your ancestors say entrusted this book to them?”
“Who gave them the book is lost, I am afraid, She of the Night.” Alanotte bowed again. “All I know is that on the solstice of last summer, the Namegiver came to me in a vision, telling me to take it and my kin westward, across the oceans, and there I would learn to whom to give the book.”
“I see,” Luna whispered in a low, almost dangerous voice. “So, she is up to her games again.”
Not looking away from the book, Twilight asked, “Do you know what this is, Princess Luna?”
For a few seconds Luna was quiet, her features shifting from bemusement to a half-hidden grimace.
“That, Twilight, is The Book of Spring,” Luna replied. “But that should be impossible. All copies of the book were destroyed, along with the original.” Tapping a hoof on the legrest, Luna fixed Alanotte with a piercing stare. “You seem to have made an error, however. Our aunt has also revealed herself and is within the palace even now. The Book of Spring is hers.”
“While I wouldn’t say I know more than you, Princess Luna, all I know is that in my heart it was Twilight that I was meant to pass the book onto. Nopony else. It was on the day of her ascension that we arrived on your fair shores. The stars began to gather just as I set hoof on the docks. Surely, a sign of whom the book was meant for.”
“Just because two events happen at the same time is not indicative of any correlation,” Twilight piped up. Holding the book against her barrel, she added, “Thank you. I’ll make sure this finds a good, safe home. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
Alanotte tapped her hoof as if working up the courage to say what she wanted.
“All we ask is to serve you.”
“To… what?” Twilight tilted her head. “I don’t need anypony to ‘serve me’.”
“Nonsense, Your Divine Highness,” Alanotte laughed, the sound full and rumbling from her chest. “All great ponies need those to serve them, to protect their interests or perform deeds either beneath them or unsuitable to one of their stature. Or, for which they simply do not have the time to attend to.” Gesturing to the Nightguards along the walls, Alanotte finished with, “Besides, do your cousins not have their guards and an entire nation that serves them?”
“But Luna… Celestia doesn’t…” Twilight began to protest, only to stop. Beside her, Luna was almost shaking from trying to hold in her laughter, eyes crinkled at the corners. “This isn’t funny,” Twilight huffed, crossing her hooves.
“Yes, it is. You trotted right into that one.” Luna patted Twilight across the withers with a wing. In her officious tone, Luna said to Alanotte, “How, precisely, would you like to serve my cousin?”
“My daughters and sons are all strong of body and quick of mind, and it did not escape our notice that Princess Twilight lacks guards.”
“But I don’t want guards!” Twilight protested, half rising. “I don’t even need them.”
Luna, it seemed, had other ideas, saying, “It is not a bad idea, on one hoof. But I am less comfortable with trusting ponies that have only just arrived. We know nothing about you. It makes more sense to draw from the royal guard.”
Bristling, Alanotte gave an oath in her native tongue, then said, “We gave away one of the greatest treasures on the entire disc! What more proof could you want than that?”
“A great treasure it may be,” Luna inclined her head, “but that proves neither honour nor loyalty. Or ones ability to protect a goddess.” She then shook her mane. “Besides, you claim my mother sent you, and that is reason enough to turn you away. I did not trust her to name my daughter, I will not entrust the safety of one of the ponies closest to my heart to those she sends with a book better off lost.”
A polite cough stopped Luna.
“I appreciate your concern, but I think this is my decision, isn’t it?” Twilight smiled sweetly at Luna. Huffing a little, Luna didn’t argue, though she continued to wear her discontent like a badge. Standing to address the gypsies, Twilight said, “I concede that I may find myself in need of personal guards. However, it no small thing to decide how to fill those roles. So, until then, I invite you and yours to be guests of the palace.” Turning to Luna, she added, “Unless you find this untenable.”
Luna mumbled something, but did not object. A Nightguard was commanded to help the group settle and find temporary beds while a permanent solution was found. Thanking both princesses, the gypsies bowed and left with wide grins, a few of the younger members going so far as to mimic the movements of the stars beyond the windows.
For the next hour, court was relatively bland and uninteresting, comprised mostly of ponies curious to meet Twilight, their issues minor in the extreme. Luna let Twilight deal with these ponies, leaning on her throne’s rest with an amused glimmer behind her large, blue eyes.
It gave Fleur an opportunity to think more on what she was going to say. No novice to court politics, Fleur had been regularly visiting Daycourt since she was a filly. Her parents had thought it best for Fleur to be indoctrinated into politics at a young age. Since they’d passed away, victims of a brief cholera epidemic that had swept Equestria, Fleur had been Prance’s ambassador, furthering her immersion in politics.
And she still wasn’t sure what to say.
How did one tell two living goddesses that you dreamed you were a goddess like them?
Fleur was brought out of her musings by Quill's sharp voice calling Lord Parallax and the Astronomer’s Guild forward.
A confident swagger in his steps, Lord Parallax went to the base of the steps to the thrones. He barely bowed at all before opening his mouth.
“Princess Luna Invictus, Countess Twilight Sparkle, I’m—”
“Princess Twilight Tuilerya,” interjected Luna with an almost bored snort.
Twilight’s blush deepened and she lowered her head a little, muttering something to Luna. Lord Parallax, gaping a little like a fish that had jumped out of its bowl, corrected his mistake, sneering. “Princess Twilight Tuilerya.”
Fleur got the impression such similar corrections had been happening since Twilight had begun to sit at the Nightcourt. Lord Parallax’s lack of respect was not as common, judging by the way Luna straightened and narrowed her gaze, turning it into a glare that could cut through tempered steel.
Whether he was driven by willful ignorance or arrogance, Fleur wasn’t certain. The lord certainly had a reputation among the nobility for being pushy, block-headed, and over-indulged by his wife, a sweet but timid creature that was far more liked than her husband.
“We have come to demand that the stars be returned to their proper spots in the sky.” Though he made no indication, it was clear he meant the other members of the astronomers guild with him.
“Excuse me?”
This came from Twilight, any sense of bashfulness or embarrassment vanishing.
“We mean no disrespect, of course. But this tampering in the natural order needs to cease. The stars are—”
“Mine.” Twilight stamped a hoof.
Parallax looked between the princesses, his face contorting through a range of emotions before settle on a disdainful sneer.
“I beg to differ. In the landmark ruling of House Spectral versus Concave Parabolic of 1253, Princess Celestia decreed that no pony could own a celestial entity. I have the necessary documents, if you doubt me.”
Twilight blinked a few times, while Luna took the proffered documents, her features taking a stormy cast. Her expression only grew more severe as she flipped through the pages.
“He is correct. According to this, my sister did decree that no pony could ‘possess something beyond Ioka’s disc’.”
“What?” Twilight shot her cousin a deadpan glare, reaching for the papers.
Lord Parallax’s smug grin grew as Twilight read, and then re-read the ancient ruling.
She frowned. Flipped the pages over to see if there was anything written on the back. Squinted and muttered something to herself.
“Can’t believe I am listening to this,” Twilight snorted, shuffling through the papers for a final time.
Passing the papers back to Lord Parallax, Twilight replied, “No, you’re right. I don’t own the stars.” Twilight put on a wolfish grin, one that unsettled the astronomers around Lord Parallax. “I am the stars.”
With a shake of her mane as if she’d just come out of a pool, Twilight cast dozens of stars from her mane. The court gasped, many of the astronomers jumping back as if they were being confronted by a cloud of bees. Through the windows, Fleur noticed a swath of the sky had grown blank, empty of the lights that had been merrily spinning only moments before. Humming, the cloud of stars zipped and hurtled around the throne room, flitting above ponies’ heads or between their legs.
Ears firmly pressed back and tail clamped between his legs, Parallax let out a little whimper as one of the star came to rest just above the tip of his nose.
“Well, if you want to convince them to stop dancing, here’s your chance.” Twilight made little effort to hide her skepticism at the stallion’s chances.
“But, it’s a star! You can’t talk to a star!” he exclaimed, scooting back a couple lengths, the star keeping pace.
Twilight’s frown returned, deeper than before.
“How then, pray tell, am I to stop them?”
Yeah! You can’t stop us from dancing, little pony. We’ll spin and shimmy and cha-cha and tango and waltz the night away, we will! The star above Parallax cackled, darting from side to side like a boxer about to strike. Laughter and jeers echoed down from the stars circling overhead.
Leaning over, Luna whispered something to Twilight. Luna didn’t hide her amusement at the situation, especially when Twilight gave an incredulous huff.
“What do you mean he won’t be able to hear them?” Twilight waved at the buzzing stars.
“Just that,” Luna replaced her humour with a stern glower. “It takes years of training to be able to hear a spirit.”
“The stars aren’t spirits though!” Twilight protested, waving her hooves at the cluster of lights that had started to gather together above the crowd.
Fleur watched in rapt attention as a few drifted down around her and a few other ponies. One star in particular, brighter than any of the others present, settled on Fleur’s nose. A cool tingle flowed from the star, tickling her face. Crossing her eyes, Fleur found herself able to stare past the star’s outer light and into the dense core beneath. Bands of tight aether, formed of alternating strings of black and silver, pulsated and thrummed in time to a hidden heartbeat.
So focused on the sight, Fleur missed the next few quips between Twilight and Parallax. She was caught unprepared as Twilight jumped to her hooves, and in a voice heard as far away as Ponyville, shouted, “The stars are mine alone!”
Manes were blown back, the chandeliers rattled, and Lord Parallax and the astronomers directly behind him were blown over and thrown from the room like tumbleweeds. Eyes rolling in their heads, it took the group a few moments to collect their wits and scramble down the corridor and out of the palace.
Panting and the right side of her face twitching, Twilight demanded of the remaining crowd, “Is anypony else here to tell me how I can or can not treat my stars?”
A few shifted from hoof to hoof, ears pressed back, but none spoke up.
“Good.” Twilight gave a firm nod and sat back down.
With a wave of a wing, she called the stars back to her, the cluster darting into her mane and re-appearing back in the sky through the windows. All except the star resting on Fleur’s nose.
“Vega?” Twilight stepped off her cushion, waving her wing again. Fleur was tugged a few hoof-lengths towards the princess by the star. “Get over here. I’m not going to have you flying off.”
Something is wrong with this pony, sweetheart, Vega protested, clinging tighter to Fleur and making her knicker in surprise.
“That’s Fleur. She’s an acquaintance of mine, of ours. Leave her alone.” Twilight’s admonishing tone was well practiced. Taking the stairs from the throne to the open floor two at a time, Twilight marched up to Fleur and Vega. “I’m really sorry about this, Fleur.”
Fleur attempted to say that it was alright, that no harm had been done, but found her tongue refused to cooperate, numbed by Vega’s touch. A surge of fright made her ears fold back, Fleur attempting to reach out with her magic to push the star away. There was a flickering crackle as she touched Vega, followed by a flashing bang that sent nearby ponies skittering. Stunned, Fleur fell back with a soft thump, her ears ringing and blinded by dozens of spots like she’d tried to stare up at Sol.
When her vision cleared, Fleur found Vega hovering above Twilight’s head, the princess rubbing her own eyes and muttering
She’s dead, sweetheart. Or a part of her is, rather. Vega protested, flitting down to hover between Twilight and Fleur. Or was? Or wasn’t, but was? She feels dead, at least. But not. Groaning, Vega’s light turned a dark purple, almost matching Twilight’s coat.
“I’m not dead,” Fleur protested, the words fumbled only a little as the numbness passed.
Not you. The other you. Vega huffed, Fleur getting the distinct impression that the star would have crossed her hooves, had she possessed any.
“Wait, you can hear her?” Twilight frowned.
“Oui. Like a little chittering chipmunk.”
Chittering? Chipmunk? I’ll have you know my voice has been described as proud and husky. Chittering chipmunk… Never been so insulted. Was only trying to help, too. Vega pouted as she drifted into Twilight’s mane and back to the night sky.
“Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you, did she? Sirius accidently burned a page’s ear last week…” Twilight looked at Fleur this way and that, inspecting her face for any sign of damage.
“Non, I am fine. Was startled by the numbing effect, that is all.”
Twilight’s features morphed into a look of relief.
“That is good,” Luna said in a formal tone. "Ambassador Fleur de Lis, it is a pleasure to see you at our court. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
Fleur licked her lips, and, for a moment, she considered lying and returning home to her thick covers and the warm embrace of her husband. It'd be so simple, and they were just dreams. It was silly to talk to the Goddess of the Moon about dreams, wasn't it? Fleur shook herself out of her reverie, realizing she'd been standing silent for too long while the princess awaited her response.
Taking a deep breath, Fleur plunged into the truth.
"I've been having dreams ever since my time in Ponyville. They've been growing both in frequency and in... intensity. Shortly before I came this eve, I... I, Ô Célestia, donnez-moi le courage, I fell asleep for but a few minutes, but in that time I… Well, I wrote it in my journal."
As Fleur spoke Luna's face grew from amused to long and grim, her eyes taking a dark cast like a moonless night.
"Dreams," Luna's voice was cold as the most bitter winter wind, "visit any unicorn but once in the year." Luna’s eyes briefly darted to Twilight before returning to Fleur. “It has been so since before the founding of Equestria. What you are experiencing may seem like dreams, but they cannot be."
Fleur bowed her head a little.
“I realize that, of course, your highness. Which is why I have brought you my journal.”
“A Dream Journal?” Twilight asked, clapping her hooves together. “I used to keep one myself. Can I read yours?”
Removing the journal from her saddle-bags, Fleur was a little surprised when her golden aura of magic was quickly overpowered by a magenta glow and the book sailed towards Twilight, stopping to hover in front of her muzzle. With book in-hoof, or magic rather, Twilight returned to her cushion. For several long minutes Twilight hummed to herself as she skimmed the entries, pages flipping quickly. She stayed on a few pages for some time, re-reading an entry or staring at a particular word or sentence. Fleur felt a slight blush touch her cheeks as her private thought were laid bare before two of the most important and influential ponies.
While Twilight read, Luna asked for the court to be cleared. A few ponies grumbled, having not yet had a chance to speak to Luna or Twilight, but most sensed that whatever was about to happen or be discussed was not for them. Most chatted about how Twilight had summoned the stars so effortlessly, their voices only fading once the doors closed, leaving Fleur alone with the princesses and their guards.
At last Twilight lifted the book up and almost shoved it under Luna’s nose.
“Look here, look what it says,” Twilight almost babbled, her words tumbling over themselves in her excitement as she shoved the journal into Luna’s face.
Eyes darting across the lines, Luna’s brows shot upwards into her mane.
“You don’t think…?” Twilight let the question drift away, her tone both hopeful and filled with doubt at the same time.
“Vega is the Vulturestar, once thought to guide the dead to Elysium. She’s always had an extraordinary gift at perceiving the desires of wayward souls.” Luna tapped the throne’s legrest, staring at Fleur with a look that made her squirm.
Leaning over, Luna whispered something to her seneschal. Quill bowed quickly to Luna before trotting out of the hall at a brisk pace. The diary floated back to Fleur in a blue-white aura while Luna and Twilight discussed whatever it was that had grabbed their attention in a low undertone that Fleur could not hear.
Eventually, the side door was opened. It took all Fleur’s experience not to betray her surprise as Cadence entered the room, Tyr beside her mother, a long yawn issuing from the filly.
“I hope this is important, mother, it’s Tyr’s bedtime.”
“This will only take a few moments.” Luna gave Cadence a placating smile. Turning to Tyr, she said, “Some new information has come to light about the night you arrived, dear.”
Looking between the ponies in the room, Tyr puffed out her chest. “I won’t betray anypony.”
“That’s not what we’re asking, at all.” Luna stepped down from her throne, trotting up to Tyr and kneeling down in front of the filly so they were eye level. “Lady Fleur de Lis may be in danger, and we want to help her. She’s come across some names, and we’d like your help to know more about them. You don’t have to tell us anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“I… guess I can do that.” Tyr’s gaze flickered to Fleur then back to Luna.
Smiling brightly, Luna said, “Very good. Now, is there anything you can tell us about Demeter, Authea, or Lachesis?”
“Lachesis?” Tyr yelped, ears flattening. “She’s not here, is she?”
Wrapping a wing over Tyr, Cadence asked, “Is she a bad pony?”
“No… but she’s trouble. Big trouble.” Tyr trembled against her foster mother’s side. “Lachesis is the Goddess of Destiny, and one of the Fates. Nopony deals with the Fates. Well, except…” Tyr clamped her mouth shut, a guilty blush making her cheeks glow beneath her cream toned coat.
“Authea?” Luna supplied.
Jumping at the name like a snake had just darted in front of her, Tyr shook her head. She stopped after a few moments, and gave a resigned nod.
“Yeah. How do you know all this?” Tyr ducked her head down to peer at Fleur from between Cadence’s legs. “Is it because of her?” Slipping from beneath Cadence, Tyr marched up to Fleur.
A shiver ran up Fleur’s spine from the tip of her tail all the way to the base of her horn. It was as if she were being teased with a cube of ice, her skin trembling as it passed. Fleur’s ear twitched, a noise like the distant clattering of a dropped cutlery box soaking into her head. Confusion and a sense of displacement, like she were both present and not, followed. For a few moments, Fleur wondered if she were dreaming still, if everything that had happened that evening had been false.
“Tyr!” Cadence, Luna, and Twilight all shouted at the same time, all three princesses jumping towards the filly, their horns igniting with magic.
Fleur lifted a hoof, and she would have been shocked to see a thin film of glowing light surrounding her if not for the disembodied sensation. It wasn’t her that reached forward and brushed back Tyr’s mane, hooking the filly’s curls behind her ear.
“That is better,” Fleur said, though the voice was not her own. She wouldn’t have believed she’d spoken them if not for the resonance in her throat. “Mother always said to keep your eyes clear and forward, Tyr.”
“Athena?” Tyr’s voice trembled, the filly taking a step back and then disappearing behind Cadence and Luna as they interposed themselves. “Y-you possessed a mortal?”
“I did,” Fleur found herself saying, the reply accompanied by a wave of dizziness. “She will soon regain dominance.” Lifting her head into a regal arch, Fleur addressed Luna. “I am Athena, once Goddess of Wisdom, Daughter of Love and Courage, and now lost. I bear you and yours no ill will nor harm.”
Luna carried the slight hint of a frown at the corner of her lips.
“Is Fleur de Lis alright? What have you done to her?”
Tilting Fleur’s head, Athena said, “I did something terrible, and no, she is far from alright. You will attempt to find a way to help her, I am certain. I can see it in your eyes. Know this, only she can save herself. Showing myself in this manner is putting her at greater risk. I had to speak to you, however, to warn you. There is a plan for Twilight to go east, yes?”
“Yeah…” Twilight sidestepped around Luna and Cadence. “Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash and I were going to be leaving in a few days.”
“We, Fleur and I, must go with you, as well.”
Blinking at the declaration, Twilight was set onto the back of her hooves. “I’m not so sure that is a good idea. You are—”
“It is not up for debate,” Athena pressed. “The Fates and Authea have both said that we must follow you. Attempting to fight fate is never successful.”
“Okay, first of all, why the hay would we believe crazy ghost alicorns that possess ponies?” Twilight snapped, flaring her wings. “It doesn’t set a good starting point for trust, now does it?”
Wriggling past Luna and Cadence, Tyr jumped between them and Athena. Fleur found it so darling the way the filly tried to stand on the tips of her hooves to look bigger. A shudder worked its way through Fleur, the extreme sense of dislocation fading as Tyr attempted to berate Twilight.
“She’s my sister. I’ve known her for my entire life. Athena would never, ever commit the taboo of possession unless it was absolutely necessary.” The fire in Tyr’s voice died down a little as she turned around to find Fleur clearing the last lingering traces of Athena’s control.
“Fleur, are you alright?” Cadence and Twilight both asked at the same time.
An answer flitted on the tip of her tongue, but refused to be shaped. Unable to speak, all Fleur could do was shake her head. It took a few moments to find her voice, saying when she did, “I-I am… I do not know…”
“My sister! Let me speak to my sister again!” Tyr jumped at Fleur, beating her little hooves against Fleur’s shoulder.
Tyr yelped as she was enveloped in Cadence’s aura and pulled away from Fleur. Setting Tyr down, and giving the filly a warning glare, Cadence addressed Fleur.
“Why didn’t you come to us sooner?”
Sitting down so she could massage her head, Fleur let out a weary sigh. “It seemed so silly, worrying about dreams. But… I didn’t want to let them go either… There was such a feeling of strength. What are you going to do with me?”
Luna snorted. “Do? We will watch you, and try to help you, naturally. But what is happening to you… I must warn you, that the only time I’ve seen something similar, the methods used to save the pony in your position… they can’t be repeated.” Extending a conciliatory wing, Luna grew somber. “There is only one pony who could possibly help you, and she’s been gone a long, long time. Even then, I am uncertain that the results would be at all favourable or desired.”
A lump formed in Fleur’s throat at the finality and regret in Luna’s voice and in her touch. The words fell almost exactly as those of the doctor a few weeks earlier, striking deep and sending her reeling. The throne room spun, the faces of the princesses blurring together as Fleur understood the truth Luna hardly tried to dodge around: she was dying.
Her breaths became shorter as panic bloomed within Fleur. Twilight appeared at her side, lending Fleur support as she started to wobble.
Somepony began to give Fleur instructions, telling her to take deep breaths and repeat a short mantra. Fleur wasn’t fully aware of the words as she started to repeat them. Only after the fourth or fifth repetition did they start to sink in through the fog of panic.
“Thank you,” Fleur said, giving Twilight and Cadence a tired smile.
At some point, Tyr had slipped away from the group and taken Fleur’s journal. Leafing through the pages, she’d stopped on the most recent entry.
“You have to take her with you,” Tyr said, repeating the words louder when she was ignored. “I know you don’t trust her, but I do. If not for her and Artemis, I wouldn’t be here. I was captured and being taken to… to a very bad pony. The God of Slaughter and War. They rescued me when it…” Tyr took a deep, trembling breath. “Authea said, ‘only through their salvation will you find your own’! Fleur, or Athena, or possible both will help Twilight. I know it. Just as Athena helped me.”
Twilight looked from Cadence to Luna to Fleur. Fleur held her breath as Twilight considered, her lips moving silently as she went over details in her head.
“Okay, Fleur will come with us.”
“Twilight, no!” Cadence almost shouted, while Luna shook her head saying, “This is a terrible idea.”
A light laugh filled the throne room, Twilight shaking her head. “It’s a Prophecy. I’d thought I was done with them, but I guess I’m not.”
Dread bubbling at the base of her stomach, Fleur wasn’t sure how she was going to break the news to Fancy. At least she had a small measure of hope, and given the circumstances, Fleur knew that to be a minor victory in itself.
A picturesque town nestled in the northern Heartlands of Equestria, Bridleshire was everything a pony desiring to get away from the hustle and noise of the cities could hope to find. Built at the base of its namesake waterfalls, with simple cottages, thatched roofs, and flowerpots on the green painted window sills, everything about the town oozed rustic charm and peace. The ponies were friendly, the market quiet even on Saturday, and even the foals behaved themselves, with none of the screaming and scampering their kind was usual renowned for.
The only thing remotely unusual were the falls themselves. Sheets of dark sapphire with none of the white froth or mist. Local legend held that the town had been home to Smart Cookie, and it was she who had created the falls to stop some evil or other. The legends were predictably murky on the precise nature of the evil, or how she trapped it in the waterfall. Some claimed she turned the monster, a foul water spirit that lured ponies to the nearby lake that was the river’s source, into the river. Others stated it was a demon that she ensnared in a shadowy nether-realm that could only be reached through a door hidden behind the falls, visible only in direct moonlight, and since the falls were so dark, Selene’s light couldn’t illuminate the door.
Personally, Trixie thought it more likely that the tall trees simply hid the falls within their shadow most of the day and it was a mere optical illusion that made them appear so dark.
Not that she spared the falls much more than a passing thought.
After securing a permit from the town’s mayor/librarian/hotel-owner, Trixie set up her wagon next to the town’s square and was deep in preparations for a show. Looking around at the afternoon shoppers and the ponies watching her, curious about the wagon and the odd ponies that had come to town, Trixie decided that the usual humorous abuse act wouldn’t go over that well. The ponies looked more likely to break into tears and run away, and while that once had been her goal with the act, Trixie had discovered that she received far fewer bits by angering such a crowd. In the cities, where ponies were more likely to laugh at their neighbors misfortune the act was a big draw. Not so much in the Heartlands.
“So, what tricks are we going to play tonight?” Shyara asked around the rope she was pulling.
The filly wore a plain looking blue vest, one that hid her wings behind a relatively simple glamour. It was the only way Trixie would let her out of the wagon, especially when they were close to other ponies. Shyara didn’t particularly like the vest. It was not suitable attire for a goddess, and the enchantment made her wings itch. That or the wool. Shyara prefered to blame the enchantment.
“Trixie was thinking nothing too… quarrelsome. Perhaps the vanishing assistant trick, some conjurations, illusions, voice throwing. The usual.”
“Awww… that’s all the boring stuff,” Shyara protested, releasing the rope and causing the awning she’d been setting up to collapse. “Why don’t you ever do real magic?”
Huffing as she grabbed the rope and pulled it into place, Trixie affected a hurt air. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is the greatest wizard to cross Equestria since Clover the Clever. She doesn’t want to frighten the local ponies with displays of her true might.”
“Sure,” Shyara grumbled over crossed hooves. “Are you going to need me tonight, or can I poke around?”
Trixie hesitated, using the time to hammer the stake holding the rope down to think.
She didn’t see what harm there could be. The town was so quiet; even the squirrels looked bored, laying on branches with their eyes half lidded.
“Trixie sees no harm in letting you explore a little. Just be back in time to help clean up after the show. You’ll know it by—”
“The fireworks. I know. Thanks Trixie!’ Shyara shouted, already galloping away.
Shaking her head, Trixie went back to work, glad for the short reprieve.
Slowing to a trot once Trixie and the wagon were out of sight, Shyara turned towards the falls and the only tall building in the entire town. The stylised golden sun atop the building had caught her eye when they’d rolled into town. Shyara knew a temple when she saw one and resolved to get some answers about the local ruling goddesses.
Built on a small island just below the falls, the temple wasn’t much to look at up close, just a plain, rectangular building with smallish windows of stained glass. A low bridge crossed just above the fast flowing, but placid, river, a statue to a goddess standing to one side in the short gap between the island’s bank and the polished brown door into the temple.
Shyara paused at the statue, examining the alicorn. She didn’t look that different from many of the goddesses of Gaea. Her mane, painted a rust red, was loose, rather than braided or styled, and she wore a crown instead of a wreath, but otherwise Shyara wouldn’t have been able to tell the statue from those of most of her relatives. The pose was a bit odd, regal rather than commanding, with a more motherly air as she sat, tail curled to her side. Steel-grey eyes gazed down on Shyara, seeming to peer through her and sending a little shiver up her back.
Leaving the statue, Shyara entered the temple.
Unlike the exterior, the inside of the temple was far grander, with intricate carvings and frescoes etched into the wood pillars and lattice-work of the ceiling. Pews filled the first half of the temple. At the other end stood a lectern, with a sarcophagus behind it in an apse, and a large contraption to one side. Placed at the back of the apse was an altar covered in lit candles. Doors leading to, presumably, the priestesses office, were tucked into a nook between the pews and apse. The structure was far too small for the priestess to have a residence, unless it was underground. Given the river, Shyara doubted the temple even had a necropolis.
“Hello, little filly,” said a short unicorn that had to be a priestess from the robes she wore, emerging from her office.
Like the statue, her mane was red and coat white, and she wore the same motherly smile.
Shyara didn’t reply right away, it taking a moment for her to respond. “Uh, hello. I’m Shy Lulamoon, Trixie Lulamoon’s daughter. We just arrived in town today and I thought I would pay my respects to Celestia.” A short bow, like those given by supplicants to the temples to her real mother, followed, Shyara dipping so low her nose almost touched the floor.
“My, so polite. I am Solemn Hymn, and welcome to the Namegiver’s temple. What can I do for you?”
“I… am not sure.” Shyara frowned, drawing a blank on what to ask. She needed information, that much Shyara knew, but how to get it or what to ask without drawing suspicion eluded her. “What can you tell me about this place?”
“The temple or the town?” Solemn followed the question with a little, tittering giggle.
Both were discussed in great detail over the next few hours, Shyara following the priestess around as she went about her duties. Solemn was open, honest, and quick to answer and giggle. From her, Shyara learned a great deal of new information, particularly on Equestria’s pantheon of goddesses.
Initially, she was shocked that the statue was not of Celestia, but rather her mother, and it was this goddess who the priestess was truly dedicated to serving.
“Not that we don’t serve Celestia too, mind you, but the Arbiters are far closer to her than us. There’s been a lot of friction between the princess and the Sisterhood, stretching back to, gosh, the third century? Yes, that’s right… Though it’s not recorded what caused the divide.” Solemn instructed in that way particular to priestesses and teachers as she replaced the candles that had burnt to stubs. “Then there was all the kerfuffle when Luna returned. And don’t get me started on Cadence. Twilight, hopefully, will be a little friendlier, though there are… complications with her as well. But that’s far above my head and for the Revered Speakers to figure out.”
It was while she dusted the sarcophagus that Shyara grew bold enough to ask what she meant by ‘complications’.
“Oh, nothing at all.” Solemn took her time with the duster, brushing the stone with the gentlest of touches.
Letting the subject drop, Shyara asked about the sarcophagus instead. She’d never seen a pony, even the greatest of heroes, intombed in such a manner before. Necropolises with the tombs of heroes were popular locations for adventurers and the more nefarious sorts intent on plunder, drawn to the artifacts or lingering magics granted by the former heroes’ patron. This, naturally, lead to the goddesses and gods laying traps both magical and mechanical to keep the would-be looters away. Having a tomb just sitting out in the open was almost unthinkable.
“Isn’t it kind of morbid?” Shyara asked part-way through hearing of the deeds of Smart Cookie. Solemn had gotten as far as the founding of Equestria following the end of the Long Winter and Iridia’s defeat. “Having a pony’s body sitting in the middle of the temple like this?”
“A little, perhaps,” Solemn said, finishing her dusting and moving on to arranging the white cloth draped over the lectern.
“Why aren’t there any other tombs in here?” Shyara glanced around the room as if expecting to spot a sarcophagus that she’d missed when she entered.
Laughing, and her chores finished, Solemn went and got a glass of lemonade for them. “There are a few crypts in the cemetery just out of town. But Smart Cookie was special. An Earth pony and a wizard, trained in magic long since lost. She was the first of the Founders to pass away, sacrificing herself to protect this town. When she sealed the fiend, the Namegiver appeared, and it was she who created this little island, tomb, and placed Smart Cookie inside, proclaiming her a Saint for her many deeds.”
Standing on her hind legs to get a better view, wings trying to flap beneath her vest, Shyara propped herself against the carved stone side to get a better view of the lifelike figure on the lid. A little shock passed into her hoof, making Shyara yelp and take a step back. Her heart raced as she had a sudden feeling of being watched, like a great eye hovered overhead.
At the same moment a blue-green fizzcracker burst over the market.
“Oh no, I’m late!” Shyara yelped, dashing from the temple and away from the oppressive weight.
“There you are,” Trixie admonished when Shyara reached the wagon. “Dinner will be ready soon. You can help Trixie clean up.”
“I’m—” Shyara tried to open her wings, face scrunched up with defiance.
The cold look Trixie gave her made her stop. Dragging her tail, head low, Shyara joined Trixie in cleaning so the wagon could be changed back to a home through the ingenious sliding walls and floor. Little was said by either, Trixie spending the evening counting and re-counting the meagre amount of bits she’d recieved for the show.
Just before they curled up in bed, Trixie announced, “I think we’ll move on tomorrow. Vanhoover awaits, and this town is a little too sleepy. Reminds me too much of…” Trixie shuddered and reached around Shyra to hold the filly close.
Just before dawn, Trixie slipped into the wagon’s reins, and with Shyara still sleeping, they left town.
If they had stayed, they may have noticed the falls running clear, a hazy white mist obscuring the base and drifting over the temple, a group of the townsfolk gathering to stare and murmur in worry.
Shyara’s ear twitched as they started to roll down the simple country road, a sense of dread invading her troubled sleep.
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I was just about to go to bed...
Damn you.
4557429
I'm sorry.
4557441
I guess having a new chapter of Myths to read makes up for it
4557441
Speaking of which, I heard something interesting the other day about teleportation. The idea is that teleportation can take you from one location to another; effectively going from A to B without traversing the space in-between. The thing is, what you describe early in this chapter is what I heard was called a Zooming Spell since you first had to be able to visibly see the location. You can see it and "zoom" onto it, appearing there thanks to that.
Not telling you to change it, just throwing that tidbit out there because I think it's an interesting thought/idea.
4557492
It's not so much being able to "see" as "Knowing" the location. Like, Twilight could teleport to her room from just about anywhere because she "Knows" it.
4557610
Point still stands, it's called a Zooming spell (by some), and I thought it was something Tundara might want to hear, or at least find a little interesting like I did.
I laughed a bit at the part where Fleur mentioned matrons being the protectors of their herds... when has ANY character in this story done a good job protecting their family?
I can think of one or two, and ironically both were gaian goddesses: first Athena apparently rescuing Tyr, and then she Twilight's counterpart who sent the children to Ioka, if memory serves.
4557615
That's neat. Haven't heard of them referred to by that name before. :3
4557689
Heard it in the anime No Game No Life, and it sorta makes sense. The explanation for it was my own, but I would say that it makes sense in the context. Regardless, I didn't say it to get you to change it, only to tell you about it
4557696
Yeah, I think I have enough limitations on Teleportation now.
4557699
I much prefer short range teleportation in combat scenarios. The idea of using rapid teleportations to fire volleys of attacks from different directs within split seconds of each other is very appealing to someone like me
Uh-oh, the "fiend" will be unleashed because moonlight shone directly onto the waterfalls/door behind it
4557721
Never trust local legends... >.> ... <.<
What an awesome chapter. I like the intro of Timely and Captain Hardy here. Ya know I'm just gonna say that I like these revisions quire a lot in general
I loved the stars as usual and I loved how thoroughly that plothead Parallax got owned.
Can't wait for more
4557761
Don't trust them, but you should damn well listen to them anyways. There is a reason that myths and legends pops up.
Also, it feels like you are changing quite a few things this time around. I remember Athena being much more malevolent the first time around, making Fleur puke black icky stuff and what not, and even trying to take over fully when they were on that island where they found Faust again. Not to mention that you add quite a bit of new stuff in general.
I was like "What" when I finished reading it. It didn't feel like 11.000 words at all! You really know how to make a story capture me.
4557775
Yeah, things are being changed quite a bit, especially the initial stages of the voyage. It really feels like it is taking forever to get back to the Bellerophon. Next chapter... next chapter...
4557781
Thanks! I'm really glad the story is capturing readers.
4557771
I'm trying to show a lot more in the revision, stuff that I told readers before. It's drawing things out a bit more than expected, but it's so worth it.
Authea...huh. How'd she do that?
I suggest you take the comma after "strung" (after hyphenating "high strung")...
And put it after "lost".
[needlessgrammartip]the last modifying adjective isn't separated from the noun it's modifying, hence it would be "the new, high-strung princess".
Also, for the 2nd quote, if you were to take out "I am afraid", "She of the Night" would still be separated by a comma from "...them the book is lost", for a grammar reason I can't recall but still applies. Hence the need to put a comma after "afraid".[/needlessgrammartip]
Hmm...I kinda liked Athena as an antagonist, really.
...That's not good. Is this setting up where Celestia saved Shyara and accidentally scares her?
Mmm, I am very much enjoying all the extra detail and flavor the rewrite is adding it. It's totally worth it, and loads of fun to see so much extra going into the parts that I remember. And then occasionally being able to go, "Oh, hey, that's a little/a lot/totally different!" Quite delightful!
I'm curious as to what Applejack(and Soarin) is up to. She has been the least remarked of the Mane 6 and only because Pinkie and RD travel with Twilight a lot now.
Tantalizing as usual.
4557819
When next chapter comes around. "Next chapter... This time, I promise!"
As always great world building with the rewrite, and i like that Twilight here is the Twilight from the first two seasons down to her impatience and unpredictable short fuse (something most writers seem to forget) rather than the more bland tending to mary sueish character she became later in the show.
The casual mention of cholera helps a lot in placing the story in a setting where medicine has not yet been institutionalized and more according to the technological limitations you're following for this story.
I love that you used blessing to describe a group of unicorns, that made me chuckle.
The scene with the doctor seemed a bit superfluous, though, he could have just been on the ship like he was before and naturally become an important character as the story advances and he just happens to be there but instead now he's "destined" to be part of this great adventure. The prophecy i felt was a bit too explicit, it could have just been that Fleur needed to go with Twilight and that was that, maybe a general mention of peril to keep them guessing and that was that, instead we get a play by play of the important events in the journey.
Happy birthday again, thanks for the chapter.
So we do not see the talk about whom shall go with Twilight this time?
If she is going on a trip then she will need guards sooner rather than later.
Unless the Lionesses are going to arrive first it seems about them for Twilight to set sail.
He likes 'em sweaty, eh?
That right there is especially interesting given the most recent chapter of Castle, makes me wonder exactly what Blackwell is about to get up to.
Holy crap, Authea is other world Pinkie and she is speaking directly to Fleur through the dream.
Lord Parallax, husband to Countess Lulamoon? Interesting, if I'm not mixing fics up I believe that's the second non-Trixie Lulamoon reference since the rewrite started.
And some gypsies too? Fun.
Okay, not gypsies, but fun unicorns anyway. I'm expecting one to be named Marigold. Funny that they want to serve Twilight, unless it's a trap that is.
I like Vega, he/she/it is fun. And I really doubt that Sirius "accidentally" burned someone's ear.
There we go, the cat's out of the bag now.
I suspect that wandering into a temple to Faust was not quite what Trixie had in mind for Shyara to get up it. And did she just release the evil that Smart Cookie sealed? That seems bad. On the other hand, I like the idea of Cookie as an earth pony wizard.
*Tomb bursts open, mummified remains stumble out*
"I liiive agaaain! Now bring me coooookieeeeeeeees!
Or cake. Can't go wrong with cake really. OHHH PUDDING! Really, really, REALLY missed pudding. I know they said it was an intervention, but HONESTLY? Twelve hundred years? I. NEED. SUGAAAR!"
....
That kind of got away from me.
Also, I seem to have mixed up Cookie and Puddinghead.
Or maybe the historians did. That must be it.
Random joking aside, the new chapters are much easier to follow than I remember the original being. Definitely an improvement. And they were pretty damn good already.
4561668
Someday I'll stop making that mistake... some day...
4557492
From what I understand, they're doing something closer to hyperspace travel, while 'zooming' (and I've heard a few descriptions, but this is the least contentious I know) is basically accelerating yourself to relativistic speed while removing any impact you might feel. In other words, it's engaging no-clip and going REALLY fast.
Hyperspace is travelling via a medium other than the physical one to a location, while teleportation is simply ceasing to exist in one place and starting to exist in another.
As an example I'm sure people will understand, travelling via nether in minecraft is hyperspace, via enderpearl is zooming, and via commands is teleporting.
4570147
Huh... interesting. Never thought of it like that.
4570153
Well if you're going to define imaginary concepts, you might as well put way too much thought into it and then spend the rest of your life looking for opportunities to bring it up.
otherwise, what's the point?
4570430
Precisely!
4570435
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why so many fics end up having a side fic where the entire purpose is to explain mechanics.
something like 10-25% of readers are like me, and 70+% of writers are like Tundara.
That just seems weird.
Should have an opening quote.
Not sure how it is done in Canada, but I usually see "can not" as one word, "cannot". Also, I miss the little bit about Twilight spelling out a soup recipe.
They are learning about possessions earlier. This seems good, at least for Rarity, though I do not know if this information will meet a pony that can do anything about it or if Rarity will even let on she is having issues. Shyara is the the daughter of the other world's Twilight, right? They are the goddess of the same thing.
its*
Um, what?
Ah, little-known rule: when saying Your Highness/Majesty etc, Your is also capitalised.
comma*
its*
This reads awkwardly. Are you missing a word?
You want formulas or formulae for plural
You could lose the 'but'.
You could lose 'to the', either that or add 'area/other synonym' after 'downstairs'
period*
If only Demeter could hear her yelp, how much closer than a feather's width could she have possibly been to Fleur than Authea? Did you mean other nearby ponies excluding Authea? I'm assuming yes but it's still worded a bit strange.
past*
missing an opening "
As with Your Highness, My Lady should be written as such.
missing one or two words, it feels like.
Lose the hyphen
new, high-strung princess*
Ambassador.* nod.* You* Oui.*
too*
add a comma after afraid
periods, not commas. "proves neither honour nor loyalty" is better wording there too.
Quill's*
its*
period after sneering. Sneering is not a dialogue tag.
through a* range
Period*
The middle section would be better in em dashes instead of commas
"Luna’s eyes briefly darted to Twilight before returning to Fleur" would be better as a standalone action before the dialogue instead of in the middle of the dialogue. It's awkward where it is currently.
Your* Highness*
Don't mince words. Did she or didn't she?
Repetition there
Period*
its*
its*
quiet;*
Now, this is unusual. Normally I'm correcting loose to lose, but in this case it's the other way around.
Period*
Daaaaaaaaaamn, a few clunkers in there. But I loved the exchanges with Parallax and Shyara. Lots of fun stuff.
4885071
Something I picked up reading Patrick O'Brian. It is a type of bow, if I am not mistaken.
Would that statue happen to resemble this alicorn?
fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/029/a/2/lauren_fausticorn_by_hampshireukbrony-d5t5u0c.png
5686153
There is a strong possibility...
Smart Cookie is an Earth Pony in this setting?
pinkie.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/rsz/mlfw3082_small.jpg
Yeah, the assistants were
Private Pansy (Fluttershy)
Clover the Clever (Twilight)
Smart Cookie (AJ)
Demand? DEMAND?!?! You have no right to demand anything!
8119524
I'm certain they do not feel the same way.
Ah, classic Astronomers Guild. I loved writing that bit, and seeing all the reactions. 
This doesn't make sense to me. "Three nights hence" means "three nights later.
I would say "who" instead of "that"
The scene with the astronomers guild brings to mind a similar scene in Sharing The Night. It was pretty funny.
possibly
If Fleur is having dreams because she's possessed does that mean Rarity is possessed too?
I am enjoying this story and am eager to read more. Well done. I wish to point out two things. 1st--Reins are used by a driver to steer whatever animal is pulling the wagon. 2nd--The harness is what attaches said animal to the wagon, in this case Trixie, who needs no reins. Cheers.