Huge concrete doors opened to the surface of Blue Shelf. Bellesmith stuck her head out of the grand elevator car, biting her lip as a gust of cool mountain wind blew at her brown locks. Tightening a plain gray satchel around her flanks, she trotted forward, squinting into the bright sunlight streaming across a crystal blue sky.
Birds chirped and dipped low, flitting from tree to tree. The smell of pine and melting sap lingered in the air. At a distance, Belle could see zeppelins puttering. They numbered in the dozens, carrying freight along open trade routes in the free air.
"Have a safe trip home, ma'am."
Belle jumped, stifling a high pitched yelp. She glanced to her right, trembling.
A unicorn in a working jersey smirked, nodded his horn at her, and resumed transporting mana crystals from one building to another. Flanking the tall zeppelin tower at the summit of Blue Shelf was a series of wooden huts. Engineers and couriers flocked from building to building, while several of them hung about in tight clusters, spending the time in felicitous conversation. There was not a single beret to be seen.
Bellesmith fidgeted. The wind blew her bangs before her eyes. She raised a hoof to move the strands, but paused. She then lowered her limb. Concentrating with extra zeal, Belle telekinetically parted her bangs, allowing herself an unobstructed view of the mountain paradise. She took a deep breath, as if preparing for a deep dive, and strolled forward into the sun-kissed slopes leading into the pine forest.
As she trotted down the path, her hooves kicking up mulch and gravel, she passed by two wagons. One was full of freshly chopped logs, with a stallion hoofing out firewood to the locals, one hut at a time. Another was full of crystals bound for the facility, their energy brimming and waiting to be tapped.
Belle heard a sound to her right. She turned to look.
A manticore burst through the foliage and came upon her.
"Gaaah!" Belle shrunk away, covering her head. As the seconds bled by, her body wasn't ripped in half. Instead, she heard a soft, urgent clicking voice.
"Tchh. Tchh. Whoah there, Peach Fangs. This ain't the way."
Belle looked up to see a mare in forest-colored gear mounted on the back of the beast. Affixed to a burlap saddle, she telekinetically yanked at a pair of reins and urged the creature back into the underbrush, joining three more manticores being similarly guided by ponies to drag lumber and supplies towards an nearby mill. Beyond them, the forest line loomed clear and naked, without a single manafence to bar them.
With a dry gulp, Belle returned to the mountain path, quickening her pace. Soon, she was passing under the shade of hanging pine needles. The air rustled with swaying limbs in the refreshing, afternoon breeze. Squirrels foraged besides the road, hopping fearlessly close to where Belle's hooves and the tracks of countless others had tread.
Nervously, Belle glanced ahead. The village loomed, and it was twice as busy as she remembered it. Instead of barren streets and dilapidated building fronts, the place was ripe with equine life. Ponies and other quadrupeds milled about, trading goods, pushing garden wagons, sharing stories, and filling the air with mirth and laughter. As the scientist approached the heart of town, her figure was reflected in many a pair of eyes. Smiling faces and eager expressions were in abundance.
She didn't smile back. Her shivers doubled with each glance she took to either side of her. Belle took one look at the front of the library, and a pair of buffalo stood at a distance, a male and a female. The two beloveds waved politely at her.
Shuddering, Belle skirted pass a rickety wagon and a line of laborers. She came upon the central office, but grimaced at how long the line was outside the entrance. She fumbled with the crystal identification shard that was located in the front pocket of her satchel.
"Bellesmith!" A chipper voice exploded in her ear. "As I live and breathe!"
"Nnngh!" she gasped, dropping her shard entirely. She turned to see Baxter grinning in her face.
"Long time no see!" he sing-songed, waving a cloven hoof. "Wow, they really kept you down there for ages, huh? At this rate, I figured you were gonna sprout roots and stay down there for good!"
"I... uhm... I am having... that is..." Belle bit her lip, grunting as her forelimbs tugged at the stubborn shard stuck in the mud. "I was having tr-trouble... and I... I-I..."
"Here, allow me." Baxter's antler's glowed. With a single tug, he easily plucked the stone loose and floated it over to Belle. "You're getting rusty, Doctor," he said with a smirk. "Another day of sequencing, and you won't even be able to open doors with that horn of yours!"
"I... I can't... erm..." Belle fitfully looked over her shoulder. The line into the office looked even thicker. She was starting to sweat profusely. "There's no time for... f-for talking..."
"Oh come on! You gotta give me at least a little gab!" Baxter said, almost hopping in place. "Is the project going along smoothely? Figured anything out about the ancient ponies who ran this country before us?"
"You..." Belle stammered. "You know?"
Baxter raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? Pffft... not like this place is top secret or nothing..."
"Uhm... Baxter, darling?" Kenna trotted up, carrying a basket of flowers atop her hindquarters. "Perhaps you should tone it down a bit? Can't you see Belle's exhausted?"
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Baxter smirked in Belle's direction. "You okay, girl? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"I... I..." Belle looked at Baxter, at Kenna, then at Baxter again. "I-I gotta go!" She galloped off, almost dropping the shard again.
"Whoah!" Baxter gasped. "What's the hurry, Doc?"
Belle panted and panted. As he passed by the general store, two ponies were trotting out.
"And for the last time, I'm not allergic to peanuts," Placid said in a dull groan. "If I was, I'm quite certain I would have perished from all of our visits to your cousin's for Spark's Forging every year."
"Would it kill you to be a little bit careful, at least?" Felicity grumbled. "We don't want a repeat of last month with you and the Hayseed Supreme."
"You do realize that was an isolated incident, and you had talked me into drinking copious amounts of cider at the time—" Placid turned, and it was then that he saw Belle. "Oh, good doctor! You have returned to us!"
"I knew she'd come around eventually!" Felicity said with a smug grin. She then blinked awkwardly. "Uhm, Doctor?" Felicity pointed back at the office. "Aren't you going to check yourself back in?"
"No t-time!" Belle simply scampered past them. "I have to go!"
"No time? Is she daft?" Placid muttered.
Felicity placed a hoof on his shoulder. "Leave her be. She's been through a lot. Delusional paranoia is difficult to shake off."
At that, Belle glanced back—only to blindly bump into something. She grunted breathily, stumbling backwards. When her vision cleared, an angry, wooly face was glaring up at her from beyond a gnarled pair of horns.
"You ever heard of trotting lanes, princess?" Grinder venomously spat. He grinded his hooves, pulling a rusted wagon full of bricks. "I'm not that kind of ram. Go to the west side of town and bump into a stallion who gives a flaming turd, why don'tcha?"
Belle squeaked forth a tiny whimper. She bent her head forward and outright sprinted into the forest. She heard the worried voices of Felicity and Placid behind her in the distance. They soon faded between the tree trunks, like hushed wind between the pines.
After scaling clumps of pine needles and mounds of fallen tree limbs, she made her way onto an open path again. She followed its winding course uphill, veering left and right to avoid tree stumps and collapsed logs. At last, she came upon a brightly-lit avenue, flanked by log cabins.
She heard something here, something that had never rang through that lonesome mountain air before. It almost resembled the mewling of kittens, until Belle's sluggish canter brought her upon the edge of it, and then she was hearing laughter and cackles and giggles. She froze as soon as two of the bodies rushed past her, chasing each other on short, waddling limbs.
A little filly laughed, running circles around Belle until she hid behind one of the mare's limbs, hiding from a colt who was playfully chasing her. The colt jerked left and right, trying to coax her out from behind the scientist. At last, the filly made a run for it, joining her friends who had made a fort out of twigs on the crest of a hill along the forest's edge. When the colt came within range, the fillies on the other side stood up and telekinetically tossed water balloons with tiny glowing horns. The colt shrieked and ran off, giggling.
Breathless, Belle looked away from this scene and gawked at the houses. Every other log cabin was dotted with children, some of them playing, others standing and chatting on the front stoops to their homes. Mothers and fathers hovered all about, tending to lawnwork, sweeping the walkways clean, and beautifying the gardens.
Belle fought the urge to hyperventilate. She strolled ahead, slowly this time, making for the familiar brown shape that was her home. As she did so, a mare trotted in the opposite direction, smiling as she hummed a happy tune in the sunlit air. A filly sat in one of the pockets of her saddlebag. The youngster waved at the scientist with a bright smile.
"Hello, Doctor Belle!"
Belle winced, but nevertheless waved back. A pair of colts trotted past her, dragging fishing equipment.
"Hey there, Belle!"
"Nice afternoon, Belle!"
Belle hushedly nodded. Her limbs were numb as rubber at this point. With a few more steps, she came upon the springy grass of her cabin's front lawn. Turning right, she hurried up the path and planted her hooves against the front door handle. Pausing, she turned and flashed a twitchy look over her shoulder.
Across the street, two mares sat, gossiping. Beside them, a pair of very young fillies sat, playing with horse dolls. One of them giggled, her voice sounding like bells in the forest air. She had a mane of bushy emerald. Slowly, like a rotating gravestone, her plump little smile pivoted towards the scientist.
With a burst of magic, Belle flung the door open, launched herself inside, and slammed the thing shut behind her. She slumped against the cabin's frame, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. In one movement, she stripped of her saddlebag and brought a pair of hooves over her eyes. The mare's teeth clenched and unclenched.
All was silence. Until....
"Belle? Darling, is that you?"
The first breath to come out of Belle was like a knife being ripped from her chest. When she opened her eyes, they were already glossing over. Her breaths slowed as she gradually lurched from the front area and into the kitchen. Hanging a left, she peered around and into the reading room.
The cabin's library was full of color, all muted, painted with every binder and book cover imaginable. And in the center of it all, like a monocrhomatic nucleus, he sat with his stripes, bright and lively, as if he was absorbing everything that the colors had to give and passing them back out in like turn. He didn't look back; he didn't so much as stir as his hovering manasphere flew circles above three open tomes lying across a thick oak desk. A pair of fuzzy ears twitched, and then a voice came—his voice.
"You'll never believe this, beloved. Did you know that Xonan infants are marked with ink stencils less than three weeks after foaling? It would appear that the application of cultural tattoos is committed far earlier than popular culture is apt to believe, that is, if I'm to take any of these old manuscripts seriously. They were written by a quorum of ponies who graduated at Blue Valley University. I never held much respect for Blue Valley, and that's not simply because Mountainfall rivaled them in every intellectual field."
Belle draped herself against the edge of the room. Her hair hung in tattered brown streams around a fragile smile aimed at the library's center. Every subsequent breath tore at her lungs, so that she couldn't help but emit a shudder or two.
Pilate heard them. Of course he heard them. Those ears of his twitched, and soon he was turning around, tilting his head aside like a curious sparrow perched on a low-hanging tree branch. "Belle?" he murmured into the air. His ears twitched again, and he turned completely around. "Beloved? Is everything alright?"
Belle trotted. Belle bounded. Belle threw her forelimbs around Pilate, nuzzling his neck and chin deeply, sobbing into his black and white coat.
His face stretched in shock and confusion. A pair of gray eyes searched the ceiling aimlessly as he stroked her back and murmured, "Why, what is it, Belle?! You're back! Isn't that a good thing?" He gulped as he felt her shudders harder and harder. "Belle, honey, what's wrong?"
She hiccuped on a sob, smiling as tears streamed from her clenched eyelids. She murmured rapturously into his scent, "I had a bad dream..."
No.
This is wrong. Whoever is doing this to her is wrong, and they should feel sick to their stomach for doing it.
Uh Oh -- looks like Belle is starting to taste the Kool-Aid.
Noooo belle! Don't give in!
Assimilation complete.
step 1: make em doubt
step 2: make em WANT to believe.
step 3: You bastards
Ledomare, you are two steps shy of finding out if I can knifehand an entire nation. Imma go stretch out...
forty overhead clappers, ):(. Knock 'em out!
I always found the study of Xonan culture to be quite fascinating. It has such a rich cultural history that remains unexplored in contemporary academia.
It's like a drug. You just want more.
2892011Kool-aid? What kool-aid? What flavor is it?
Noooo no no nononononononononoooo please noooooooo
That's just low.
Really freaking low.
2869975
but she still likes to get an update every time she talks to Luna and she has constantly asked about apple bloom on every conversation Thay have had
I don't know but I think it would cool if it happened
I kinda feel like the BLU Soldier with regards to my predictions.
"Watch. They'll come true any second now. Aaaany second...."
That mare plays a really good game of chess...
Dash is going to snap her out of it.
Calling it now: Belle is going to die a completely shattered mare towards the end of this.
It gets more and more twisted. Belle's being shown a perfect life, only for it to be inevitably torn away from her as she's plunged back into the fire.
Cruel.
Now all that's left is for Pilate to start asking absurd amounts of questions about RD. Nightshade's evil master plan is almost complete, and there's no way Belle can see through it
SNAP OUT OF IT BELLE!!
Two things:
1.) Nightshade and ilk are betraying Belle's trust.
Betrayal is Loyalty's opposite.
Belle will overcome this obstacle.
2.) Belle thinks Pilate is Dead.
Nightshade is capitalizing on this.
Pilate isn't actually dead.
If Pilate actually has a chance to communicate with Belle, The charade is up.
2892274
Kool-Aid flavor.
I really wonder how this all ties in the story... I need answers, damnit!
Also,
Darn it, Belle. I don't even.
Damnit were still in the animus?
Now Pilate has a mana sphere? I know he HAS a mana sphere but with the looks of how Belle has her horn back...
Belle lost her horn while rescuing civilians in a zeppelin crash, Where she also rescued Pilate as he also lost his vision in the zeppelin crash. Now whatever reality this is, that crash somehow never happened, Pilate was blind to begin with, and Belle still fell in love with him.
I've
seenread no proof of the crash not happening, so this is all just a hypothesis...2893422>>2892988>>2892778>>2892625>>2892382
What if Belle lives a full and happy life, Helping out the scientists with safer jobs, and when she dies a happy mare proud of her accomplishments, she opens her eyes to see Nightshade haloed by a lamp standing over her. She nods once, and walks from the cell/sequencing room/bad place.
Unless Chekov's Bullet Kera dives in with a hammer. She's the only other pony I know with sequencing experience, and she would be the only one in a position to hijack the dream from the outside. And take control of the dream.
BWAAAAAHHHH
2893745
Nightshade is merciless, but she isn't cruel unless she needs to be. For all we know, she's intentionally being as gentle as possible to try and coax vital information out of Belle, knowing that tormenting her just reaches a dead end. Belle's never responded well to physical and mental pain.
I love how every flaw is whitewashed, even the peanut allergies. Whoever's controlling this simulation has a serious case of OCD.
Even though it's a fabrication, it's kind of nice to see the Blue Shelf gang again.
Also, dat moment when Belle realizes that Pilate is still blind, even though her horn is intact.
The thing is, does Belle even remember the zeppelin crash? Was it stated one way or another previously? I seem to remember her not remembering it very well. And if she has little to no memory of it, and this reality is constructed from Belle's memories, it makes sense that Nightshade could overlook the connection between Belle's broken horn and Pilate's blindness. And that mistake could be her undoing - or, at least, the undoing of this ride she's taken Belle on.
I wanna let whomever is doing this to her...to be given to Floydian and Simon.
i think this might actually be real...
It'd be interesting if the end result of Nightshade getting all this info from Belle resulted in a classic heel-face-turn. She sees that letting Belle and Co. escape would be to her advantage, perhaps? It'd cercertainly get Shell and his enforcers to leave in pursuit.
I'm gonna say this again. this has to be a dream.
I'm not familiar with the term, but it has something to do with the reaction of your mind seconds after something fatal occurs upon you. a defense mechanism for the mind i might add. it would make sense, because we just experienced her leaping off the zeppelin to her certain death, and it wouldn't be a rare thing to create yourself a alternate reality within seconds as a last resort.
also, if this turned out to be a simulation, then I'm confused as to when the hell this occurred.
I'm actually still trying to figure out when Belle fell into the dream in the first place...
Wow, I have to give you props IC. You're not just sowing doubt with Belle. All without any work other than what's happening to Belle you are sowing doubt and confusion amongst your readers, inspiring a fear of the unknown into them. One that I had thought, at this point, we'd be immune to. You devious, devious bastard you.
...I think I'm going to have to stop reading temporarily, so I can read this entire alternate Blue Shelf arc all at once. This anticipation is driving me insane.
Every single chapter, she falls ever deeper into the pit of this fake reality, and every single chapter the next day I'm hoping that she will start to doubt, to realise, but it never happens. How you're toying with her emotions like this is agonising to watch.
2893745
It would be something more subtle than that. My guess is something like Pinkie Pie showing up in the background of a store or in the woods or Luna talking to Belle indirectly.
I could just imagine that scene. It would be creepy as hell, but awesome.
So.... Can he see or not?
If Belle never broke her horn, then Pilate never lost his eyesight. They happened in the same accident.
I just love the chapter title. Just what role is Discord playing in this arc? Also, Belle's panicked reaction to the perfect world once more took me back to this fella here:
2893851 "The first Maretrix I designed was quite naturally perfect, it was a work of art, flawless, sublime, a triumph equalled only by its monumental failure. The inevitability of its doom is apparent to me now as a consequence of the imperfection inherent in everypony."
How Dare you pull a Clannad on us!
And the dagger inches just that much further into her gut; twists just that much further upward and to her left, toward her heart. This is destroying me to read this, but I need to press on. If this is a fucking sequence induced by Nightshade, I'm going to blow a fucking gasket (I've yet to read the new chapters, so sue me if I'm a little behind).
Gah! You're tearing me apart, Scolon!
Belle is clearly the butt-monkey of this story - she can't seem to catch a break. First she thinks her beloved's dead, then she's forced to team up with the guy she believed to be at least partly responsible for her beloved's death, then she has to shave her mane, then she befriends the friendly neighbourhood plucky orphan, only to lose her other partner (who she's finally begun to trust and genuinely like) to torture-happy enemy soldiers, and now, as if all that weren't enough, someone's screwing with her brain and making her experience her worst fears (Kera dying) and giving her false hope for a past and future that can never be, all while reintroducing her to ghosts from her past that can't possibly hope to live again save for in her twisted memories. Plus, the connection she shares with Dash (the thing that changed her world and allowed her to escape sequencing in the first place) is marred by Discord's less-than-lovely influence and may or may not pose future consequences to her well-being.
...And the story ain't even done yet. To quote Shania: "Up, up, up, can only go up from heeere!"
IIIIIt's Dashie's evaluation time!
And now she has foals too?! Whoever's doing this is an absolute dickwad. And the saddest thing is that their plan us working...don't believe it, Belle! These are my thoughts so far.
-MASH
P.S. So I'm going to be going on a vacation for about a week, returning next Friday. There won't be any Internet where I'm going, so I'm have some catching up to do when I get back...Maybe another Marathon?
Ouch.
Damn you, Colon. Damn you.
Damn you damn you damn you damn you damn you.
*sniff*
. . . damn you. . .
Somebody explaaaaain.
-Spirit
I don't even know what to believe anymore. I know this is fake, but dammit I want to believe it's real.
...red pill or blue pill?
As I thought. Well... if this is a dream, waking up will be quite cruel.
Oh god no
this is the first time I've felt nausea because of this series