• Published 14th Jan 2012
  • 3,347 Views, 173 Comments

Stories of a Warden - Rosencranz



A magic obsessed pegasus finds himself in over his head after being assigned to a cartological expedition to distant islands.

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VI

Quiet. A time of relaxation—all is dark, all is calm. A bed, a lamp, a book. He is nestled in bed, reading. Against his face rests the bag of frozen peas he dug out of the ice chest earlier. Hopefully it will keep his eye from bruising. Hopefully he won’t have to find his old glasses again.

He looks up. Hoofsteps. His pulse quickens, his chest tightens. He had thought his father was asleep.

The door to his bedroom swings open. He had thought wrong.

“I saw your light on,” the stallion says hesitantly.

“I’ve been reading.”

Something passes behind the stallions’s eyes. A flicker. “Reading what?”

The boy lifts the book, shows his father the cover. A Comprehensive Pegasus History, 1233-1742. Casio & Arembager.

The stallion nods. “Good, good. See, there’s a good book for you.”

The colt flinches, looks away. “Right. A better book.”

The stallion smiles. “See? Now you’re getting it.” He sits down on the end of the bed. He stays still, no rocking. He has sobered up.

“Yeah...” the boy replies.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, actually...” he says. He places a
hoof on the covers, over the boy’s shins.

“You know... you know I just want what’s best. For you, I mean,” he starts. Carefully, cautiously. A relationship is at stake.

“I know, dad.”

“Well, see, that’s what I have to make sure of. I need to know you know. I have
to see you understand. Does that make sense?”

“Yessir.”

“And when you bring back those other books, those very, very bad books, it makes me think... maybe you don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. See, earlier, today, when I was—when you came home—earlier, I just... I wanted to make you understand.”

“I understand.”

The stallion nods, pats him on the leg. “Of course you do. I think maybe I finally got through to you today... but I think maybe that wasn’t the right way to—maybe that wasn’t how I should have done it.”

The boy nods. The stallion looks at him intensely. Curiously. Searching for a reaction.

“I think maybe I lost my temper a little bit, and I... I want you to know that I’m sorry for that.” He glances up, hoping, just maybe... “How is your eye?” he asks.

“It’s fine,” the boy replies.

“That was a mistake, you see, I never meant for that to happen—”

“It’s fine—”

“I mean, really, you have to know, it was completely just a mistake. A fluke.”

“It’s fine, dad.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear. Can you do something for me?” The stallion shifts his weight a bit on the couch, rubs the back of his neck.

“Yessir?”

“You know how this was an accident?”

“Yessir.”

“Well, some ponies aren’t gonna think it was an accident if you say... if you tell it certain ways. Understand?”

“Yessir.”

“So you just gotta tell ‘em it was an accident. But maybe you’ll hafta change some details so that they see it was an accident. So that they’ll see it for what it was, for an accident.”

The boy raises an eyebrow. He knew this was coming. “You want me to l—”

“No, not lying, not really. Just... changing the details so ponies can understand the real nature of the thing. To help them see it like they should. It’s telling it so that they get one kind of truth instead of another. Does that make sense?”

“I understand,” he says quietly.

“Good, I’m glad,” the stallion says. He glances down at the boy’s bag, filled with the torn, burned remnants of what he managed to save from the fire. “You know you’re gonna need to return that.”

“What?” the boy asks, incredulous.

“I want you to take that back to the library.”

The boy is about to ask another question, about to argue. He looks up at his father.

A pause. He is thinking.

“I’ll take them back.”

It isn’t worth fighting over.

“That’s what I wanted to hear...” he glances at his watch. “You’d better get to sleep. Gotta get up early tomorrow.”

“But I’m not done reading...”

“Go to sleep.”

“Yessir.”

The stallion stands, takes the lamp, and moves to the door.

“I love you, Roads.”

“Love you too, dad.”

“Good night.”

VI

“Much Madness is divinest Sense -
To a discerning Eye -
Much Sense - the starkest Madness...”
-Emily Dickinson, Much Madness is Divinest Sense

It was strange. Usually the sun was such a comfort to Summer. In all of her wildest journeys, her most exotic adventures, she could turn and see it in the sky, and know that Celestia's eye was upon her. Here, though... here, it was different.

Here, it filtered through the trees and leaves and grass and trickled weakly through the bars to her face and she felt no better for it. Here, she was trapped in the bottom of a pit, with no way out. Here, Celestia couldn't save her. Here, she was trapped in a pit and hog-tied and clueless and hurting and her magic wasn't working and—no.

No.

She was Summer Dew. She would be okay. She had gotten out of worse jams than this, and she would get out of this one, too. As long as she kept her head about her. As long as she stayed calm. What was it Honey had always said?

Never panic; assess. Okay, she could do that. Assessment. What did she know?

She glanced around. All she could see was the four dirt walls that surrounded her, and the shadows of palm fronds that played upon them. When she strained her neck, she catch a glimpse of the top of the pit, three meters up, where wooden bars blocked her escape. When she stopped to listen, all she could hear was birdsong. What did she know?

Nothing.

No, that wasn't true. She knew she was in a pit. She knew how she got here. Those ponies... they had come in the night. Islanders. Hostile. They had knocked her out with something, something that smelled of... what was it? She knew she recognized the smell.

Lotus. That was it.

They're the ones who cultivated the grove, she realized.

Okay, what did that tell her?

They were prepared for something like this, if they already had lotuses ready—lotuses, and a pit. They'd had a plan, too. They had watched and waited and even taken supplies from the camp. No, not supplies—weapons. It all made sense now. The islanders had taken anything their prey could have used to defend themselves. The mallet, the razors, the wood axe. But what did it all mean?

It meant they had done this before. It meant that someone else had come to this island before they had, and met the same fate. Strongsteed. The name from the dog tags. This had happened to him, too. Perhaps he wasn’t dead. Perhaps she wouldn’t end up dead.

Good, Summer, good. She was assessing, working, finding an equilibrium. She felt her confidence returning. She had figured out—well enough—what was going on. Now she just needed to fix it. She needed a plan.

She thought for a moment. Nothing came to mind. Tied up like this, she couldn’t even stand up, let alone scale the high walls of the pit she had been tossed into. She couldn’t escape her bonds with magic; every time she tried to cast a spell, a wave of nausea passed over her while her horn stayed dark and useless.

Perhaps Roads or Chief could untie her, somehow. If they were even down here with her. She couldn’t tell; she was on her side, facing the dirt wall of the pit, hardly able to see anything.

“Roads?” she called. “Chief?”

“Oh,” a friendly voice responded. “You’re awake.”

A bolt of adrenaline shot through her veins; she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as her muscles tensed. “Who’s there?”

“Me.”

Summer strained against her bonds to roll over and face the center of the pit. As she flopped over, she caught sight of a lean, rust-colored earth pony sitting across from her, tied by the waist to a stake in the dirt. He gave a slight smile, tightening cheeks around sunken eyes, exposing broken, yellow teeth that protruded from a gaunt, hollow face.

“And how are you?” he asked merrily.

“Never better,” she replied. “Now, who are you, exactly?”

“You first.”

“Pass.”

“It doesn’t work like that. You first.”

Summer sighed. His insistence irked her, but what was the use resisting? “My name is Summer Dew.”

The stallion shook his head. “No, no, no. I don’t care what your name is. I asked you who you are.”

“What?” She gave him a confused glance.

“Who are you?” he repeated.

“Well... I’m a cartographer.” What did he want from her?

“A name, and a profession? That’s who you are? That’s it?” The stallion looked almost disappointed.

“I’m... I’m a mare?”

She wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. She hoped it was.

“You say that like it’s a question.”

“I’m a mare,” she said, this time more firmly.

He sighed. “No, no, no! You aren’t answering me! Who are you?”

“I just told—”

“Who are you?” He sounded almost angry.

“You already—”

“Who are you?!” He was shouting now. Definitely angry.

“I—”

“Who are you?!”

“I don’t know!” she blurted, flustered. She realized what she had said and reddened as a smile passed over the stallion’s face. She couldn’t let him get to her like that. Never let somepony in your head unless you’re sure you want them there.

“Exactly,” he said, satisfied.

Summer clenched her teeth; she could feel her temper rising. “And you? Who are you?”

“Not a clue,” the stallion replied, smiling. Had Summer been untied, she would have slapped him. She made a mental note to do so in the future, were she to get the chance.

“What’s your name, then?” she asked with a sigh.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Petty Officer Marion Strongsteed, Miss Dew.”

Summer blinked. “You’re Strongsteed?”

“I’m fairly sure I am.”

“You’re still alive?”

“I think so.” He held a hoof up to his neck, checking his pulse. “Yes, definitely still alive. For now.”

“My friend found your dog tags out in the forest... how long have you been down here?”

“Depends on how you define time.”

What?

Strongsteed rolled his eyes. “Seven years,” he said.

“Seven? Sweet Princess...” she breathed.

“‘Princess’? Which one?”

“It’s an expression.”

“Which one?” he asked again.

“Celestia, obviously.”

“Oh, Celestia’s still around, is she?”

“Yeah. Where else would she be?” Summer asked.

“Not a clue,” he replied. “Brilliant, that Celestia. Master strategist.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” he said, surprised. Then something occurred to him. “Right. Of course you wouldn’t,” he muttered to himself. “That’d be the point.”

“What?”

“The surprise attack. I can only assume you haven’t been informed.”

“Surprise attack? On what?” she asked, incredulous.

“On this island, of course! That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To instigate a coup?”

“No, you idiot. I’m here as part of a cartographical expedition. We were supposed to map this island, not conquer it. Who would we even take it from? The islanders?”

“No, no, no. The islanders are just pawns. We’re talking about Princess.”

“Princess?” Summer asked, incredulous.

“You haven’t even been told about Princess? My, you are in the dark, aren’t you?”

“Told what? By who?”

“Told about the island! By Celestia!” Strongsteed exclaimed, surprised by her ignorance. “You were supposed to come overthrow Princess in a surprise attack on the island. Obviously, the cartography was just a cover up.”

“Are you insane?” Summer demanded. “My team and I aren’t military, and we certainly weren’t instructed to overthrow anything.”

“Oh, of course not, neither was I.”

“What?”

“When I set out for the island, I thought the Princess was sending me and my crew on an expedition to find Starbeard’s burial tomb.”

“I thought that was out on Star Isle?”

Strongsteed shrugged. “Apparently not. Not that it matters. We were sent to this area, and we got shipwrecked on this island—just as Celestia planned it.”

“What? Why would she plan a shipwreck?”

“Because he wanted me to scout out the area, obviously. You can’t have an attack until you’ve scouted the area.”

“What attack?”

“Your attack, of course!”

“I already said they didn’t tell us anything about an attack!”

“Well, of course you weren’t told about it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a surprise attack. If you knew, it would ruin the surprise.”

“I don’t think you quite understand how a surprise attack works.”

“No, don’t you see? It’s brilliant. Conventionally, a leader tells their own troops of the attack, but not the enemy. But Celestia is no conventional leader. She’s too smart for that. An ordinary surprise attack would be anticipated. So she didn’t tell her own troops either. That way, they couldn’t give it away, even by accident. Instead, she just arranged for us to all be in the right place, at the right time. That way, when the coup happens, they’ll have never seen it coming.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Not at all. Can’t you understand? It’s so original, Princess will be taken completely unawares,” he said, crossing his forelegs and resting against the wall of the pit, confident in his assertion. “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”

“Well, you seem to have gotten wind of this whole plan somehow.”

“Well, I had no idea until Princess told me. She put the whole thing together, saw right through Celestia. Isn’t it interesting?”

“Who is this ‘Princess’ you keep bringing up? Girlfriend of yours?”

“Not in the least,” he scoffed. “A relationship with that toad? I think not. Princess is the ruler of this island.”

“The head native?”

“No, no, she’s Equestrian. Or, she was, anyway. She left, two hundred years ago.”

Two hundred years? I think your dates might be a tad off.”

“Well, two hundred years, give or take a few.”

“Give or take a few hundred. She would be dead!”

“What? You’re crazy, of course she wouldn’t be. She’s quite clearly immortal,” he said.

“You have anything to back that up?”

“Well, she said she was, for one. I highly doubt she would lie. That’s not her particular vice. For another, she has documents, relics dating back hundreds of years, with her name on them. She said she became immortal when she set hoof on this island, because this is where she was destined to be. She became a goddess, here, and the natives recognized it and made her their queen—though she prefers to be called Princess.”

“That’s insane. She has you brainwashed.”

“Not at all. She couldn’t brainwash me if she tried. They put lotus extract in the food, you see, and it keeps my mind wonderfully clear. I can see right through any deception. That’s the beauty of logic,” Strongsteed said, smiling.

“I’ve heard a good bit of logic before, and it didn’t sound like this.”

“No, no. I’m all logic. It’s all I’ve got.” He gestured around to the pit. “I haven’t left here in seven years—all I have are my thoughts. Logic and philosophy, they’re all I have to live for. If you could call this a life, anyway.”

“You don’t ever get to leave?”

“Never. Well, except for interrogation sessions. When Princess comes to find out what Celestia is up to. That’s how we first found out she was trying to invade the island.”

“I thought you said Celestia didn’t tell you anything.”

“She didn’t. Princess did. She told me she had a reliable source who said Celestia was planning a coup.”

"A reliable source? Who was it?"

“Well, I was, of course.”

“You? Why would you tell her that the Princess was planning a coup?”

“Because she told me to tell her. She said she already knew. ‘Had it from a reliable source,’ that’s what she said.”

“But you were the source!” Summer pointed out.

“Of course I was. And I daresay I’m quite reliable. If I can’t trust myself, who can I trust?”

Summer sighed. If he couldn’t see what was going on here, she couldn’t point it out to him. This ‘Princess’ was insane, and had apparently dragged Strongsteed into her delusions as well. She was getting tired of this line of questioning.

“Whatever, Strongsteed. Look, I don’t care about coups, or invasions, or Princesses, or what-have-you. I just need to know how to get out of here. There has to be some way to escape.”

“Well, I could tell you, but it wouldn’t be worth it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would just end up back here again. And you’d be like me.”

“Like you?”

“Blind.”

Strongsteed moved his head into the light, and Summer could see that his eyes were clouded over. They rolled and twitched independent of each other, twisting grotesquely in their sockets.

Summer was unphased. She’d seen worse. “What happened?”

“I tried to escape. When they caught me, Princess took all the sight out of my left eye. When I tried again, they took it out of the right one, too. Some kind of curse.”

“Why?” Summer asked.

At that, Strongsteed got a funny look on his face. “Why did she do it? It’s the same question as why she took me prisoner in the first place. As why she rules the natives mercilessly. As why just yesterday she had a fifteen year old colt beheaded, just to send a message. ‘No uprisings.’ Message received, loud and clear.

“Well, if you have to ask ‘why,’ you’re hardly up on things, now are you? It’s a funny thing, ponies. D’you know those older folks who always sit out on their front porches and talk about how the whole world’s going down the tubes? About how the kids these days are more violent than they used to be? About why that’s happening? Like, it’s the books or the music or the culture or ‘there’s something in the water’?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Summer replied, confused.

“Yeah. They like to say that. They have to. Otherwise they might get to thinking that none of those things are what taught their children to be monsters.”

“Are you ever going to—”

“—ponies like me, though, we know. We see things. Hear things. We know that evil isn’t something that’s out there in the woods or hiding under someone’s bed. It’s around us. Every minute of every day of our lives, and we greet it every instant when we step out the front door for the mail or go to get our morning coffee. We say “hello” to it and it smiles and looks us right in the face and says something polite back.”

“You have got to be kiddi—” Summer started to interrupt.

“—And then when we come home late at night after getting hammered at the bar and we beat our wives, we look in the mirror and know that it isn’t art that’s making the kids violent. That the evil isn’t lurking outside our house,” he said, and took a long, much needed breath.

“Does this have anything to do with—”

“—We look in the mirror and we look it in the face,” Strongsteed continued. “Does that answer your question? ‘Why?’ Well, she did it because she could. Because she’s just like the rest of us. That’s why.”

There was a short silence after he finished his diatribe.

“Bullshit,” Summer said.

Strongsteed blinked. “What?” he asked, shocked.

“That was perhaps the most useless answer you could have possibly come up with.”

“How could you say that?” he asked, indignant.

“Well, for one thing, you haven’t been to a bar in at least seven years—”

“—it was a rhetorical device—”

“—and for another, you didn’t really answer my question very well. I wasn’t interested in hearing about what you think about ‘evil,’ or how she runs this island. I wanted to know if she blinded you exclusively for trying to escape, because I wanna know what I’m going to have to deal with when I bust out of here.”

“But... don’t you care about evil? Don’t you care about the truth?” Strongsteed sputtered. He had been preparing that lecture for quite some time, waiting for that magical question, ‘why?’ He had thought it was a rather good speech.

“‘The truth?’ I don’t give a damn about ‘the truth.’ I want to survive, that’s what I care about.”

Strongsteed smiled patronizingly. “But, why survive if you don’t care for truth? What’s your reason to live?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Why survive if you don’t know why to live?”

“You got a better plan? Listen, we can sit down here all day and talk about why you think it is ponies do mean things to each other, or we can actually get something done. And besides,” she said with a grin, “Maybe what’s moral is just something you decide for yourself, anyway. There’s no evil, inside or outside, save what you give a name to.”

“Don’t be such a relativist!” he fumed. “It’s no fun!”

“I’m not. But it’s fun to make you mad.” Underneath his orange coat, Summer could see him turning brick red.

“Illogical, insolent, insoluble—” he spat.

“—That last one’s probably not the word you were actually looking for—”

“Shut up! I know what I’m talking about! I’ve thought this through!”

“Well, good for you,” Summer said calmly. “But unfortunately, I don’t particularly care. You can’t help me get out of here, so you don’t matter to me any more.”

“‘Matter’? Having meaning isn’t that arbitrary!” he objected.

“Here’s an idea: you don’t have one. To me, at least.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Actually, you’re right. You do matter, just a little bit. You taught me something very valuable.”

“Really?” He calmed suddenly. “What?”

“Not to eat anything they offer me.”

Strongsteed sat back again the wall in a stunned silence, unseeing eyes wide and mournful.

“No, no, no,” he said when he finally opened his mouth again, “it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to have somepony who would understand. Seven years in this pit, waiting for company, and this is what I get? You?”

“Well, if it makes you feel bad, I could just leave,” she said. “Oh, wait, no I can’t. How about you stop moping about what you can’t change, and see if you can get over here and untie me. Or at the very least tell me something I can use.”

“If I did... would it mean anything?” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Just help me out here.”

“I could do that. I could be... useful.”

“Fantastic,” Summer breathed. Maybe she was finally getting somewhere with this lunatic.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me everything you know about Princess. Just the facts, nothing more.”

“Well, it depends on what you mean by facts—”

“Just start talking!” Summer interrupted.

“Fine, fine. Let’s see... she left Equestria after her husband was killed in a dragon attack she blamed the Archon for... She landed on the island after a shipwreck and convinced the natives—who are all earth ponies and had never seen a unicorn before—that she was a goddess. Then she started setting up a guard.”

“Why?”

“Well, because of Celestia, of course. She’s been sending visitors to this island for as long as Princess has been here. Lately, she’s becoming more and more sure that Celestia’ll send a full force her way. So, the past hundred years or so, shes been building up the guard. Training them based off of the Equestrian Royal Guard, actually. She’s got stallions stationed all over this city.”

“The city?”

“Sure. We’re in the heart of it. The natives found a massive gorge around the river on this side of the island and cut their homes into it. Over a few hundred years the population grew and the village grew with it. Now it’s a gargantuan metropolis.”

“And you know this how?”

“Every hour, two guards come check to make sure I’m still here. Sometimes I get them to stay and chat—Princess has taught all the natives to speak Equestrian, you see.”

“And the natives? How many are there?” she asked.

“Tons. This side of the island is swarming with them. They stay away from the other half, though. Princess told them it was filled with evil spirits and demons, so they don’t venture to the other side of the mountain without her blessing.”

“Probably why they didn’t find us for so long. What are they like? How well trained are they?”

“The locals are a traditionally peaceful group of ponies. They hate change and they hate conflict. Anypony who wasn’t handpicked by Princess to be a guardspony is about as friendly as your average Equestrian. The others, though... steer clear of them. They’re a mean spirited bunch, save for Willow and Aspen.”

“Who?”

“The pit guards. All the others have been trained to hate Equestrian, but those two... I’ve talked some sense into them, over the years. Granted, not enough to get them to let me out of this hellhole, but still, it’s progress... what else do you wanna know?”

“Not much. I see what’s going on here. One last thing, though—have you seen my team?” she asked.

"I haven't seen anything in years," Strongsteed replied.

“You know what I mean.” At this point, Summer wasn’t worried about offending him.

“I heard them toss down two other ponies with you. I can hear them breathing, back in the other side of the pit.”

“They’re alive? Good.” Not that she would be worried about losing Roads—Chief, though, would’ve been hard to replace.

“Alive... and waking, it sounds like. One of them, at least,” Strongsteed said, one ear cocked, listening pensively.

“I hope it’s Chief.”

No such luck. From the other side of the pit came a low groan as Roads awakened.

“Where am I?”

“We’ve been taking prisoner by—”

“Why am I tied up?” he asked, voice rising.

“Like I said, we’ve been—”

“What’s going on?! Summer?! Summer, help! I can’t move, Summer, help me—” Summer heard him thrash against his bonds, giving small grunts of pain as they cut into his sides and legs.

“—calm down, Roads—”

“—I can’t get out! Help! How did we get down here?! What’re we gonna do?!” He was entering a full scale panic attack, now, flopping on the ground as he twisted every which way, further entangling himself in the mess of ropes that held him down. His voice cracked with fear and pain as he cried out for help.

“I can’t—I can’t—Summer, where are you—”

“—shut up—”

“Summer, where are you—it hurts, I can’t—”

“—Shut up!

Roads fell silent and still, chest heaving under the ropes. He was turned away from her, and had somehow managed to get himself caught in a narrow area where the walls almost met. He quivered with barely restrained fear as he waited for her to speak again.

“Calm down, Roads. We’re fine. Don’t worry about it. Here, just... see if you can turn over to face me,” she said soothingly, trying to ease his panicking. He would be useless if she couldn’t get him calmed down.

Pushing with one hoof against the edge of the pit, Roads managed to flip himself over. Summer caught sight of his face, streaked with dirt and blood, pale as the moon with eyes wide as wagon wheels. They flickered wildly, taking in the pit; she saw them linger over the still form of Strongsteed, who had fallen silent as he listened with rapt curiosity.

“See there? Listen to me and you’ll be fine. Look, if you’ll just pull your hips to the right a little and push with your left leg you’ll slide right out into the open.”

He stared at her for a moment and then slowly inched his way out. She saw him relax a bit as he freed himself from the enclosure.

“Now, if we’re gonna get out of here, I need you to stop freaking out. Can you do that?” she asked.

Roads gave an unsteady nod. Good. That was easier than Summer thought it would be, given his usual disposition. He’s adjusting, she realized. She felt a tiny flicker of pride rise in her chest, which she quickly quashed. Don’t get attached, Summer, she reminded herself. It was Honey Dew’s first and most important rule.

“What’s... what’s going on?” he asked quietly.

Summer explained as best she could what had happened; Roads calmed as she gave him a moment to reflect on the situation. She also told him what little she had been able to glean from Strongsteed, who would, every so often, interject with wild speculation. This, of course, included his notions of Princess’ immortality. Roads’ listened carefully as Strongsteed recounted how she had stopped aging when she reached the island.

“Summer,” he said, “that’s actually possible.”

“What? You believe this crap?”

“In this instance, yes. Do you remember that ley line that Chief and I found in that massive tree stump? The one I was telling you about? She could be using it to keep herself alive indefinitely. That might be why we found stairs cut into the wood.”

Strongsteed’s head jerked up at that. “Eternal life,” he breathed, “freedom from mortality? This changes... everything.”

Summer wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about, but she was fairly certain she didn’t care.

“So that’s how she’s been around so long? You’re sure?” she asked.

“I’m not positive. I’d need more information. But it’s definitely a possibility, if it’s only been two hundred years. Every nexus runs out of energy eventually, but one that powerful could last for centuries.”

“So it’s not eternal?” Strongsteed asked, and edge of concern in his voice.

“No. Not at all.”

“Oh. Well. Never mind, then. The world of philosophy marches on.”

Roads shot Summer a curious look.

“Don’t ask,” she told him.

He nodded. “All right then, how do we get out of here? Out of the pit, out of the city, off the island, any of it? What’re we gonna do?”

“I dunno,” she sighed. “I can’t get untied, and I can’t use my magic, so for now, we wait and hope Chief wakes up.”

“Your magic isn’t working?”

“No.”

“Must be the lotus.”

“What do you mean?”

“The lotus extract they used to knock us out, it scrambles your ley lines. That’s why you can’t use your magic right now.”

Summer gave him a blank look. He sighed and looked away, trying to think of an explanation that she could understand.

“Okay,” he said finally. “It’s more complicated—way more complicated, actually—than this but... you remember the river analogy?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, basically, you know how we talked about what happens when you mess with the alignment of a ley line? Like with an Attunement Potion?”

“Lotus works like one of your potions?” Summer asked.

“Not at all,” Roads said.

“Well why did you bring it up, then?” Summer asked, frustrated.

“Because this is something very pointedly different from an Attunement Potion. Messing with the alignment of your lines, see, normally doesn’t affect your magic output this drastically. That’s why I can still fly when I’ve taken a potion—the magic that makes me lighter is still there, it’s just slightly weaker,” he explained.

“But this isn’t the same at all...”

“Exactly. I think the lotus must have changed not just the alignment of your lines, but the polarity of them as well. The actual flow structure of the aetons has been temporarily scrambled,” he explained.

“How long is that gonna last?”

“I’m not sure,” Roads admitted. “It could be a few hours, it could be a few days. Till then I guess you won’t be able to cast any spells—and I won’t be able to fly. Oh, and don’t eat any of the food, of course. If what Strongsteed says is true—”

“—it is! If you accept that anything can be certainly true, anyway, which is up for debate, and I’ve often wondered myself if—”

“—yes, okay. Anyway, if you eat anything with lotus in it, it’ll slow down the recovery process,” Roads said.

“And most likely drive me insane, if what I’ve heard about the stuff is correct,” Summer said, nodding towards Strongsteed.

“Bah! Sane, insane, only difference is which everypony else says is which,” he grumbled.

“Shut up, Strongsteed,” Summer said. “Well, if that’s it then, I guess we’ll have to wait for Chief to wake up. He can slip out of his ropes, untie us, and then when you can fly again you can lift us out of here. He’s in here, right?”

“I can hear him breathing...” Strongsteed murmered.

Roads jerked against his bonds to twist his head around. He surveyed the darkened edges of the pit behind him, searching for the tell-tale silhouette of the sleeping pony.

“Yeah, he’s over here,” Roads said finally. “He’s still pretty out of it, though.”

“He woke up while the two of you were still unconscious. Just before they tossed you in. I heard them knock him out again, but he’ll wake in a bit,” Strongsteed said.

“Can you move over to him? See if you can wake him up, Roads.”

“It’s no use,” Strongsteed asserted.

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“No, not that. It’s no use because the guards are coming.”

“And?”

“And they’ll most likely be taking you to your first interrogation session. With Princess.”

“But we don’t know anything!”

“Precisely.” Strongsteed broke into a jagged smile. “Should be fun. Princess is a real gem. Very good first impressions, that one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see. I envy you, I really do.”

“What? Summer, what’s he talking about?” There was a sliver of fear creeping back into Roads voice.

“I dunno. Don’t worry about it. If there’s any interrogating going on, just let me do the talking. Just... stay quiet, and follow Chief’s lead.”

Somewhere above them, the crisscrossing wooden stakes blocking off the top of the pit were removed, and a decomposing ladder was shoved down into the dirt.

“Why? What’s Chief gonna do?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

A jagged stone knife whistled through the air and buried itself near Summer’s face. She didn’t blink as it thudded down before her.

“Cut yourself and your friends free, and climb up the ladder. Leave the knife in the pit. Don’t do anything stupid,” came a voice from above.

“Hello, Aspen,” Strongsteed called.

“Hey Strongsteed!” came a different, lighter voice.

“Willow! Shut up! We have new prisoners,” Aspen hissed to his
companion.

“Hey, new prison—” Willow called, before an elbow to his ribcage
stopped him short.

“Ignore him. Cut yourself free and climb up. Princess has requested your presence.”

“Why are you talking like—ow!”

In the pit, Summer grinned to herself. Inexperienced guards meant it would be easier to escape—later. If Princess wanted to see them, maybe she could talk her way out of this. She would comply. For now.

Summer took the knife in her teeth and sliced her way through the ropes around her hooves. Standing, she stretched aching limbs, wincing as her legs and back cramped after hours of contortion. She hobbled over to Roads, cut him free, and helped him to his hooves.

“Chief’s over here,” he said through gritted teeth as he straightened his back. His hooves had gone numb from restricted circulation, and he groaned as sensation returned to areas rubbed raw by the ropes.

Roads looked over at Chief. They had trussed him up more tightly, and used more rope because of his size. He was waking now, though, and the cords gave small creaks as he strained against them. Summer worked her way through the bonds and helped him stand; he leaned against her, still groggy from whatever the islanders had used to subdue him. As he moved into the light, Roads saw that he had been beaten during their capture as well—dark bruises ran the length of his left side, and one eye was swollen almost shut. It seemed not all the natives were as pleasant as Willow and Aspen.

Chief gave Roads and Summer a few confused glances, but said nothing. Roads supposed this type of situation wasn’t entirely foreign to him.

“Just follow my lead,” Summer said to him quietly.

Chief gave a steady nod, glancing around with his good eye. He gazed from the knife to Strongsteed, tilting his head slightly. Summer caught his drift and slipped Strongsteed the dagger.

“What’s taking so long down there?” Aspen called from above.

“My team is just now waking up. They can’t make it up the ladder yet, give us a
second.”

“Just... hurry up, or something,” Willow pleaded.

Strongsteed backed against the wall, to where neither of the guards could see him and cut himself free, leaving the ropes sitting around his hooves so that he still appeared restrained. Giving Summer a meaningful glance, he kicked the knife back into the center of the pit.

“Toss the knife back up here.”

“And try not to hit us, please!”

There was a small whistling sound as the blade soared through the air in a lazy arc and planted itself in the ground next to Willow’s hoof. He gave a small squeak and hopped daintily away from it. Beside him, Aspen let loose an exasperated sigh.

“Climb the ladder,” he said tiredly. He made a series of gestures to companions Roads couldn’t see, and within a few seconds a number of hoofsteps reached his ears. He craned his neck and saw that a cadre of fellow guards had joined their captors at the edge of the pit. He glanced over at Summer. Would she try to escape them all? He had no idea if it was possible, but if anypony could do it, it’d be Summer and Chief.

Summer caught his eye and leaned over to him. “For now, stay quiet, and do what I do. If anything changes, you’ll know.”

He wasn’t really sure what she meant, or what she was trying to do, but he nodded anyway.

“Good.”

She turned away from him and ascended the ladder, closely followed by Chief, who worked his way up the rickety wooden rungs with unsteady hooves, still not fully awake. After Chief was done, he clambered out of the hole on sore legs and dusted himself off, a small gasp escaping his lips as he looked up.

Around him was the panoramic view of a river valley, etched into blackened stone and lined with terraces. He stood on a hill overlooking the clear blue waters that flowed through the canyon, irrigating rows of crops around the basin at the bottom of the valley. Numerous islanders made their way through the fields, picking and digging and planting, as others moved across the wide terraces into caves carved into the high, rocky walls that surrounded the clearing. Some had constructed facades of wood and leather that protruded from the mouths of the caves, extending their homes out onto the terraces; others sat in huts filled with food, drink and craft, calling over bystanders to haggle loudly.

From his vantage point, Roads could see that the riverside city stretched nearly half a mile in each direction, and was incredibly well-tiered; by building their homes into the hills that surrounded the river, the natives had created a city as bustling as any in Equestria. Islanders swarmed across wooden bridges and clambered across platforms cut into the blackrock, going about their lives in the vast equatorian metropolis. He gazed out over the city in awe. These were no primitive ponies.

Summer, it seemed, was equally stunned. “Amazing,” she breathed.

Next to her, Chief gave a small grunt and a quick shrug. He was utterly unimpressed. “Seen better,” he muttered.

Roads just shook his head.

“Alright,” Aspen said. “Let’s get a move on. Princess wants to see these three now.”

“This way, please,” Willow murmured pleasantly, gesturing to a path that lead down into the basin.

The trio made their way down the slope to the river, forced against each other as the large group of guards, armed with spears, surrounded them. They passed scores of islanders, most of whom gave the group of guards and their escorts nervous glances before averting their eyes and hurrying about their business. Roads remembered Summer saying something about them being taught to fear Equestrians.

The group crossed a rickety, weatherbeaten bridge to the other side of the river and made their way up a series of ramps to the uppermost terrace. Roads felt somewhat woozy looking over the dropoff at the edge of the plateau, his ability to fly replaced by an irksome fear of heights. As a cool burst of wind blew past him, he felt as though he were being sucked over the edge, out into the void. He tried to shake the feeling, pressing against Summer as he tried to get away from the edge. She gave him an annoyed look and nudged him away.

“Cool it, Roads,” she whispered to him.

“I’m afraid of falling.”

“Then don’t.”

And that was that. Roads kept quiet as he followed the now silent procession across the terrace. Within a few minutes, they came to a massive alcove cut deep into the dark rock, its cavernous maw gilded over with flecks of gold that glinted in the light of the now fading sun.

They were ushered inside, the guards—save Willow and Aspen—remaining at the entrance. They walked along a wide hallway, lined with polished black marble and illuminated by torchlight, muggy from the poor ventilation and constantly burning fires. Pushing aside a heavy wooden door, the two guards ushered the party into a massive antechamber. For the second time that day, Roads was breathtaken.

The room was a wide rotunda, entirely covered in black marble, with a high, domed ceiling, coffered and complete with an oculus through which the smoke from a fire trailed. Through the hole fell a few rays of sunshine that did little to illuminate the darkened room; instead, the polished walls flickered with the light of the pyre that burned in the center of the room. The reflected firelight left Roads with the sensation that the walls were hazy and twisted, dancing this way and that. It was hard to tell, here, what was shadow and what was real.

Sitting directly behind the fire, on a throne of sleek, glinting bronze was a short, pudgy unicorn, whose head was wrapped in a floral crown, covered in gemstones, that barely covered a shock of red mane. She looked down on them with a wide, pompous smile, her eyes darting across each of their faces, looking for traces of awe in their expressions. Roads felt her eyes on him, and gave a small shiver as her smile grew wider.

“Welcome,” she said. “Welcome to my island.”

Roads turned to see Summer cock an eyebrow as she turned her lips up into a fake smile.

“Yes, It’s a lovely place. Wonderfully tem—”

“—You’ll notice I said my island. As in, ‘mine’,” she said, smile still etched across her face.

“I’d have to say I didn’t notice—it sounded so natural, you see.”

“I say ‘mine’ because I am the Princess of this island. I belong here. And you... don’t.”

“Well, of course, not. Good to see we agree. We’ll just be on our way then, and leave you to your little island—”

“‘Little’? Nothing about it is ‘little.’ Oh, it may look small, from a distance, but the island itself is huge. It expands constantly, like a living thing—not that you would ever be able to tell. The shoreline never expands—only the forests get bigger.”

She gestured behind her to a map of the island, stretched wide against the wall. It was enchanted somehow, green and blue lines rippling across its surface, ever-changing, certain areas growing larger and smaller at random. “I had to weave a dynamic map of it, you see. Nothing else would do. An ordinary map—for my extraordinary island—would be impossible.”

“Right. Well, that would explain why we had such a hard time trying to make one. Now, if you’ll excuse us...” Summer took a step towards the door. “We’ll just be leaving.”

A green aura caught her by the mane and pulled her back away from the door. Roads winced to see it, but Summer gave no indication of pain.

“Right,” she said. “So rude of me to leave so early in a conversation. There’s time for that later.”

“Oh, no, no, no. You’re never leaving,” Princess said, grin fading. “I know why you’re here.”

“And why’s that?”

“To scout out the island for Celestia. To prepare for the invasion.”

“There is no invasion,” Summer said calmly.

Princess’ eyes widened as a scowl crossed her face. For a moment, she was quiet and a deathly silence fell over the room. In the corner of Roads’ eye, the two guards exchanged meaningful glances.

“Don’t lie to me,” Princess said finally.

“There is no invasion.”

A bolt of green light caught Summer across the chest, lifting her off her hooves and hurling her across the floor.

“Don’t lie to me!” Princess screamed.

“Okay,” Summer said, rising from the floor, seemingly unphased by Princess’ magic. “You got us. You’re right. The Princess sent us, but not as scouts. We are the invading force.”

Princess’ smile returned. “I knew it,” she beamed.

“One question though. How did you find out?” Summer asked evenly. To her left, Chief shot her a questioning look. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve always known. Always. Even as a schoolfilly I was aware of my greatness. My talent. My genius. And even then, I know that some ponies would find that threatening. I knew that Celestia would find that threatening.

“I went to her school, you see, and she always had it out for me. She knew I was the only unicorn in my class—hell, the only unicorn in Equestria, who could compete with her for the Equestrian throne. Always worried someday I might try to take her chair from her. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when Celestia did nothing to stop the dragons from invading Equestria, nor when she incited them to attack our town. She was always jealous of me, always afraid I would take over.”

“Wait,” Summer said. “How exactly would the Princess—”

She was cut off as a burst of magic knocked her to the ground.

“Do not interrupt me!” Princess screamed.

“Apologies, ma’am,” Summer replied.

“A foolish thought—who would want to rule a land as pitiful as Equestria?”—Roads heard a bitter growl escape Chief’s throat at that—“After all, it’s pathetic compared to my island. But I can’t fault her for her delusions—when you’re as stupid as she is, you’re bound to make mistakes. Mistakes like allowing me to leave Equestria after my husband died. Mistakes like not realizing until too late that I had conquered this island. Mistakes like sending an invasion force this pitiful to unseat me.” Princess shook her head. “Pathetic foal.”

“I almost wouldn’t think it was truly her intention, wouldn’t think she could fail this miserably, but it’s really the only explanation for why more Equestrians keep turning up on my island. The last ones were even dressed like military. There was a whole ship’s worth of them. I killed them all, of course, save for Strongsteed. I kept him for information first, but after a while I learned all there was to learn. Now I just like to watch him lose his mind. You know, he used to be functional.”

Roads glanced over at Chief. He was fully awake now, beady eyes burning with fury, muscles tensed and rippling, wearing a scowl deeper than Roads had ever seen. He took a menacing step forward, but Summer edged over and stood in his way. She gave him the same slight shake of the head as before. This time, though, Roads could see her jaw muscles bulging from where she had clenched her teeth, and when she turned back to face Princess her eyes were tighter than before.

Still, she spoke with the same calm monotony as before. “Yes, well, not everypony can be as brilliant as you, Princess. You have indeed defeated Celestia. Now all you have to do is send us back to Equestria so that we can inform our Princess of her failure.”

“Send you back to Equestria? Brilliant idea,” Princess said with a smile.

“I knew you would see it that way.”

“What better way to humiliate Celestia than by returning her the dead bodies of her own invasion force?”

Summer looked up her quietly, deadly calm still unbroken. “That’s a bad idea,” she said, an edge of steel creeping into her voice.

“I’m afraid I don’t care. This was a nice talk, don’t you think?”

“Why even have it if you were just going to kill us anyway?”

“Well,” she scoffed. “I’m no barbarian. Everypony deserves to be informed personally when they are to be put to death. It’s just common courtesy.” Princess looked over to her guards. “Willow, Aspen, escort the prisoners back to their pit, and let the populace know that we’re to have an execution next week.”

Summer glanced at Chief and flashed a quick nod. At that, his lips curled into a thin smile. Roads was fairly sure that this was the first time he had ever seen such a thing. It was slightly unnerving.

Willow and Aspen approached the three wordlessly, preparing to guide them back out into the hall. As soon as they were within hoof’s length, Chief leapt into the air, striking silently at both of them, knocking the pair to the ground almost instantaneously.

He hit the ground running, sprinting for the door. Summer follow suit.

“Roads, let’s go!” she called over her shoulder.

He whirled around and dashed after her, making his way to the—what happened to the door? It was right there a minute ago but now it was—

“Gone,” Princess said. “Sorry. The door magically seals into the granite. I’m afraid the only way out is to break the enchantment. Which I don’t quite plan on doing.”

Summer turned to face the other unicorn. “Let us out.”

“Why should I?” Princess asked, sick smile back on her face.

“Because if you don’t, we’ll kill you. You’ve sealed all of your guards out of the room as well.”

“Two hundred years of practicing magic, and you think I need guards to defend myself against your three?”

“Only one way to find out,” Summer said, as a dark brown blur flew past her.

There was a crack and a flash of light as Chief smacked into a magical barrier that had sprung up in a split second. He rolled to his feet, unphased, and launched himself at Princess again as beside him Summer charged into her.

She won’t be able to hold Chief back for long. An earth pony with a military background is bound to have built up resistance to magic—and how powerful could Princess possibly be?

His question was answered as a wave of green magic took Chief’s hooves out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. An earsplitting cry filled the air as an aura surrounded Summer and she was tossed bodily into the hard stone wall of the room. She wobbled to her feet, caught sight of him, and called to him.

“Roads! Move!”

Roads glanced up at Princess, who was trying to subdue an incensed, swiftly moving Chief with magic, and having little luck. Each time she would manage to stop him short, he would only rise to his feet and charge her again, dodging bolts of magic until finally one lucky block would fell him once more. Roads sprinted quietly around the outer edge of the room, until he was directly behind Princess, out of her line of sight.

He took a deep breath, and rushed at her. He wasn’t sure what he could do when he got there, but perhaps he could buy Chief enough time to get within striking distance. He ran as fast as he could, gaining ground, moving ever closer to her.

Closer...

She still didn’t see him.

Closer...

Could she hear his hoofsteps?

Almost there...

A second more and he would be upon her. A body check, a hoof to the face, anything would do, and then Chief would be able to—Princess whirled around.

Before Roads could react he was flying towards the wall.

_________________________________________________________

Darkness.

Where is he? A pounding in his head, a shrill buzzing in his ears. He opens his eyes groggily, finds himself sitting against something cool and hard. Granite. Something warm trickles down the side of his face. He feels like sleeping. That would be nice. But there is something he needs to do.

In the distance, hazy figures dancing around each other. Flashes of light bursting through the rotunda. He closes his eyes again. Why does his head hurt so badly? The memories come slowly.

Books in a fire... kicked across the room... bashed hard against a wall...

No, that’s not right. Not this time. He opens his eyes again.

Three figures in the haze. Blue, brown, red. The blue one isn’t moving. It’s turning red, too. The other two are still dancing, though. They flow together and give off green light. Such beautiful colors. But darkness is coming again.

A storm... falling... striking tree branches on the way down...

No. Still not right. He feels his eyes open again. There are dark clouds at the edges of his vision. His own heartbeat echoes in his ears. Loud, like a drum. His mouth tastes of metal. Between the thumps in his ears, he can hear someone screaming.

“Chief!”

The brown figure is being held aloft. Kicking its legs, high in the air. It jerks. Falls.

“Chief!

It crumples to the ground. Keeps moving. Crawling. Swearing through broken teeth.

Darkness again.

Lying on clouds... hooves to the face... to the side... all over...

Not quite there yet. Closer, though. The darkness... slides. It’s still there, but thinner. He can see through it, now.

The brown one is in the air again. Held aloft by its neck. Slowly turning blue.

The darkness pulsates with the beat of the thumping in his ears. His eyes slide out of focus... then back again...

Now two are still. One is moving. Getting closer. Smiling.

A bolt of green light... caught in the chest... crashing into the wall.

That’s it. A bolt of fear runs through his stomach. Princess. She is coming closer, wearing a demonic grin. He struggles to move. His legs are far away; they respond slowly. He jerks and twitches against the granite. She is coming closer.

Darkness again, and then...

A face, pressed close to his. It says something. The sound reaches him from a distance. He can’t make out anything, save for the word “Celestia.”

Princess....

A flash of green light and all is dark once more.

Author's Note:

Once again, thanks for reading! I’d like to go ahead and thank my editor for the copious amounts of work he put into this fic, though not so much for the acoustic trauma he caused by screaming into his microphone about Princess’ scenes. Thanks, man.