EMy Little Priestess - Worship is Magic
MLP: FiM
It’s tough being the Divine Radiance. Particularly when you have Acolyte Sparkle to deal with.
Twilight
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Georg · 6.4k words · 109 3 · 782 views

My Little Priestess - Worship is Magic (and Ch12 of Bridge Troll) · 1:46pm Nov 18th, 2024

And Lo, the Author didst look out upon the land and heard the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth from half of the land, and proclamations of unlikely heavenly bliss and paradise from the other, and suspects that all of us are about Done With It. With that, the Author hath brought forth words from a land where an infallible and Divine Radiance does rule over her adoring public, bringing joy and peace to all who regard her Blessed Words. Rejoice, for you have been given a mere glimpse of her wisdom, with no votes or politics to interfere with your worship of her Divine Wisdom.

There will be a collection at the end of the sermon, and all we request in return is three bills, which in deep regard for ecumenism we request that no two of them be of the same denomination. Or you can donate to Estee’s future trip to the land of cute squirrels and koi fish (which is probably a better use for your money, although not tax deductible)

Author Notes: (A study guide is available for a small donation)

This story springs from a discussion I had with Bad Horse ten years ago. Yes, I know that means I’m slow, but without age, communion wine would be merely grape juice. Over time, both Tek and Bad Horse have added little bits of wisdom, and the parchment has grown dark with age, but I think you will find this a pleasant little irrelevant… I mean irreverent take on our favorite world of talking horses and reshapable cosmos.

Enjoy!

And as promised, Chapter 12 of The Young Knight, the Fey Maiden, and the Bridge Troll

Chapter List of The Young Knight, the Fey Maiden, and the Bridge Troll

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11 (with funding request)
Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Fire Sale

Fetch was an optimist. He had been hoping to get the second coat of tar applied to the bridge ropes and decking before sunset, but if Princess Tula had not helped out, he would have wound up mucking tar around in the dark. As it was, the shadows had gotten long and Tula had created several small fey lights around their last bit of working space so they would not have to heat up the tar pot tomorrow for just the final few feet of bridge. It had gotten a bit chilly as the day went on due to a thick overcast which had swept over the area, and the weather began to get blustering with growing gusts, which made Fetch glad they were not working on the middle of the bridge when it started blowing.

Back at his home village, Ottao used to call this Dragon Weather, when heavy clouds began to scud across the sky in heavier and lower groups. It was a time for working twice as hard as usual, with the growing feeling of imminent rain after sunset, a long and slow soaker combined with the constant rumbling of thunder all night. The merchants would sit around the inn’s fireplace and swap stories while the rain made soothing gurgles in the background, leaving Fetch the opportunity to soak up more information about the big world outside of his small village.

Getting the Small Bridge properly tarred would keep the water off this evening, so they had finished their job just in time, even if it had gotten terribly messy at the end. Accidental tar splattering had turned into semi-intentional splattering until both him and Princess Tula were hopelessly uncleanable. Even lye soap would not be able to scrub all of it off, but Tula had a spell that she said would help.

It was going to be awkward, to say the least. It had been several years since a female had seen him bathe. Having a dark shadow sweep over their path back to the house-rock was almost a welcome distraction from the upcoming embarrassment.

At least until he saw the dragon.

It was an immense creature, with a wingspan larger than the corral in back of the house, and a long, slender body. The only sketches of dragons he had seen were ink lines on plain paper, and seeing the real thing took Fetch’s breath away. There was a majesty to her motions, a grace that surpassed anything he had seen at the village. Every muscle’s motion had a purpose, every dip of the wing led to a sweeping change in her position until she rested perfectly amidst the scattered bridge construction supplies without knocking over a single stack. Dripping with condensation from the low-lying clouds, the pale blue scales of her svelte body glittered in the evening light like she was covered in jewels and polished to a fine gloss.

He wanted to applaud, but it did not seem appropriate. A polite introduction was more in line, and Fetch cleared his throat to begin.

“Greetings, young dragon. Welcome to Quartz’s bridge.”

There was a certain silence that followed his announcement, the kind of silence you get when all the people in your vicinity rapidly departed while you were not paying attention. Fetch did not want to look because the dragon was so fascinating, so he tried to keep talking. “We don’t have many dragons visit. Just you so far. Since you obviously don’t need to use the Small Bridge, are you here just to look or…”

“This is not the Wizard’s bridge,” rumbled the dragon. She cast a look to either side before focusing on the rope and timber structure stretching over the chasm. “It is far more sturdy than I remember.”

“You were a friend of the Wizard?” asked Fetch out of reflex. “Did you know his family?”

That seemed to set the dragon back a step, and she curled her tail in front of her while fixing him with a rock-steady gaze. After a few moments of close examination, the dragon blinked, shook her head gently, and said, “You are a most unusual child.”

“Tell me about it.”

Quartz was crouching in the underbrush, holding a head-sized boulder like he was about to throw it at the dragon. Princess Tula was a bit to his side, holding a longbow at full draw and looking very much like she was going to release the arrow no matter what happened, so Fetch moved to stop things before they got out of hand.

“Dragon, this is my employer, Quartz, and Princess Tula of Nadare.”

The dragon cast a casual glance at Quartz, let her gaze linger on Tula for a time, then turned back to Fetch as if neither of them were any real threat.

“Why do you not quake in fear?” said the dragon.

“I… Well, you didn’t seem…” Fetch had been reacting instead of thinking, but now that he considered the question, it really did not change his approach. “If you were going to attack us, you could have done that when you flew over.”

“True,” said the dragon. “If I had not cooled off during my flight here, I might have.”

It was a stretch, but Fetch was starting to see patterns in his life, and it was worth the question. “King Seiki?”

The dragon jerked, and swung her head around to stare directly into Fetch’s eyes from very close range. She most likely would have snapped out an angry response if the sky had not taken that moment to give off a bright flash of lighting somewhere above the clouds, followed by a low rumble and the start of a light drizzle that precluded discussion of any type, even from a dragon. The interruption gave him a chance to measure his words, which was probably a good thing because Fetch had been far too casual with a creature this powerful. And it felt like the rain was going to start in earnest soon.

“My apologies, Lady Dragon,” said Fetch with as close to a noble bow as he could make. “Would you care to adjourn our discussions to someplace more comfortable? Uh…”

The dragon picked up on her cue effortlessly. “The Wizard and I frequently spoke at length. I believe we have much to speak about as well.”

* * *

The corral at the Stone House must have been sized for the dragon originally, with a little extra space for growth. The dragon settled down into the space as casually as if she had never left, leaving Fetch very glad that Nutmeg had been taken back to Nadare with the bridge-building townpeople. The old horse was probably being spoiled rotten there, if the way the children had been treating him to little snacks of sweetened oats last week was any indication.

Broom had taken the new damp guest in stride. She had taken one look and vanished inside the home, emerging with the leftover deer and some stew before Fetch had a chance to ask, and since the dragon had not even blinked an eye at the animated broom, they must have met before.

The remains of the deer lasted a very short while, but the dragon took her time with the iron pot full of stew, and even encouraged her humanoid hosts to get a bowl first before she started.

“Lubonia is a better cook,” admitted the dragon between sips like a human would manage a teacup, shielding the top of the pot from the ongoing drizzle with one clawed hand. “The broom is not bad, mind you. It is just difficult for it to measure by instinct. Now, what brings you to my old friend’s home?”

“Gonna build a bridge across the ravine,” declared Quartz proudly, without a hint of the reluctance he had shown up to this point. “Best one in a whole passel of counties around here. The girls are gonna be so impressed they’ll fight over me. Would you like to see my plans, Miss… err… Missus… Fraid ah didn’t get your name.”

“She didn’t offer it,” said Fetch in a hurry. “Dragons do not share their names with any but their closest friends, because they believe names are power.”

One eyebrow ridge on Quartz climbed an appreciable amount, giving him a quizzical expression. “Ya mean if’n I called the lady somethin’ like Lilly, that’d make her any less a dragon? You shoulda heard the names some of yer people called me.”

“Fetch is right,” said Princess Tula. “Dragons are much like Wizards in that respect. They tend to stay to themselves and refuse common names, like the Wizard of the Bridge. Well, that’s what Father called him formally.”

“I really don’t want to call you dragon,” insisted Quartz. “Seems degrading, like everybody calling me troll. I’m gonna call you Lily.”

“I’ve heard worse,” said Princess Tula in an obvious attempt to calm the mood. “And we are on his lands. Well, his… It’s complicated,” she ended in an obvious attempt to conceal something. “Perhaps we should speak of your encounter with King Seiki.”

The large fanged head had looked back and forth as the conversation unrolled, seeming pleasantly bemused although it was difficult for Fetch to evaluate the expression very well. He had to consider the rest of the slim body and folded wings, as well as the way her pale blue tail curled up underneath where it would remain dry. Generally, it looked like the dragon was calming down and focusing her ire away from him and to a very familiar target.

“I did not encounter the usurper,” growled Lily. “My old friend came to visit, but he has changed since our times together. He was distant. Distracted. Angry, but not at me. He evicted me from my lair, drove me from their kingdom, and…”

Fetch allowed the dragon time to continue, but eventually spoke up when the silence became too painful. “I suspect your view of the tale is distorted slightly. For example, if you were forced to confront your friend and drive him away, you would be reluctant and angry, correct?”

“Indeed.” The dragon’s lips drew into a thin line, showing more fangs than Fetch was comfortable with. “But who could force a Wizard to do their bidding?”

“Figgure that’s obvious,” said Quartz. “Seiki’s got the Wizard’s family under his fat thumb, an’ used that to weasel out an oath.”

“That… would do it.” Lily nodded, looking very much like she was planning something violent.

“Weaseled the Wizard into protecting Seiki,” said Fetch quickly. “You go flying off to kill him, and you’ll be facing your old friend in the worst possible way.”

The dragon did not say anything, but Fetch could see the tension leave her wings, and the sensation of being underneath a dragon preparing for a dramatic takeoff began to fade. He still wanted more information, and there was only one way to get it.

“Perhaps it would help if you were to tell us exactly what happened.” Fetch shifted uncomfortably under the lean-to of the stable and tried to ignore the dripping of the ongoing rain. “The Wizard you know does not seem to be content with his situation. Perhaps we can help him get free.”

“And then the false king will die,” said Lily in short, deliberate words.

* * *

Discussing events with a dragon was a trial of patience. She wanted to speak about everything except what the Wizard said to her. It must have been painful when a friend turned against yourself. Fetch hoped never to go through that kind of pain, but he was determined to help the dragon. It was not something he had to do, but Mrs. Triana would not approve if he refused. It was a responsibility of his decision to speak up, and although he had started down this road in an attempt to run from his past, his responsibilities refused to simply go away.

So he remained quiet and respectful as the dragon talked about her life after leaving the Wizard and his growing family, the process of finding a comfortable cave far enough from human towns to reduce the chance of marauding knights, and yet close to the ancient ruins so she could engage in the perpetual sport of dragons poking their noses into abandoned places. It was a profitable occupation, filled with excitement and adventure, where she planned on spending a century or two until it became time to raise a clutch of her own.

The discussion took several hours, during which the rain eventually trailed off to a few drops and the damp dragon had evaded the point long enough. Quartz had begun to yawn near the end, but Princess Tula remained just as bright and attentive as a cat with a particularly fascinating mouse, most likely due to her elvish heritage. Still, the princess did not push for details, so it fell on Fetch to ask.

“Dragon, we appreciate your time, but—”

“Humans,” scoffed the dragon. “I grow weary this evening as well. You wish to know of the Wizard’s words, then?”

“Yes, please.” Fetch nodded, still feeling terribly tacky and flammable with all of the tar still stuck to his skin.

“He said very little, actually.” The dragon paused and the tip of her tail twitched as she thought. “When he arrived, he looked around the cave and remarked about the variety of my hoard and how it had expanded over the years.”

“Exact words, please,” said Fetch without thinking. “It may help.”

At first, the dragon looked to argue the point, but she relented after a minute or two of silent thought. “The cave looks magnificent, far better than that little crack in the rock by my home. It will be a shame when King Seiki’s men arrive in several days to cart this treasure all away so that his army might be paid. It would be wise to be elsewhere when they arrive. Until we meet again, old friend.” Lilly’s tail lashed once beneath her. “And then he left.”

“Without exchanging any direct words,” mused Fetch to himself. “Quite unlike a friend. I have to wonder if Seiki even knew he traveled there.”

The dragon hesitated, and the tip of her tail twitched with greater vigor. “He did not look at me, not once. If the usurper were to ask, he could easily bend the truth and say the two of us did not meet. He arrived, examined the treasure Seiki desired, spoke only to himself, and departed.”

“When truth is not truth.” Fetch nodded to himself, lost in the lessons he had learned in his home village. A sharp elbow from the elven princess brought him out of his memories, and he returned to the topic at hand… Well, claw. “Were you able to remove any of your hoard before you left?”

“Most of it,” rumbled Lily. “The coins and raw gold, several chests. Most of the artifacts and statuary remain. I could not see any of my treasure being used to pay for the thief’s men.”

“Good, good,” mused Fetch mostly to himself. “King Seiki is already cheapening the kingdom’s coins with base metals. He probably promised them fresh coinage.”

“Excellent.” The dragon let out a puff of brimstone-smelling breath. “With luck, one of his greedy subordinates will put a knife into his back. Although, I presume the Wizard will stop them.”

“More likely he will invade yet another nearby kingdom to loot their treasury.” Fetch paused and looked around. “Wait. You said you removed much of your hoard. Where— Ooof.”

Princess Tula had quite sharp elbows and considerable strength. She fixed him with a fierce green-eyed gaze and said quietly, “Don’t ask.”

“But—”

“Don’t.”

“Then I will,” said Quartz. “Don’t look like you got no pockets. How’d you go about bringing a bunch of gold with you?”

It was obvious that the dragon was uncomfortable with the question. Her scales lifted up in rows much like an angry cat and her tail lashed behind her, stirring the dirt of the corral. Quartz did not appear to be concerned and continued, “If’n it’s some sort of dragon secret thing, that’s fine. Trolls have some secrets of our own.”

That seemed to mollify the dragon slightly, and she settled back down onto the raw dirt with a huff of smoke.

Smoke that coalesced together, leaving several silver coins falling into the dirt.

It was impossible to miss, but Tula tried her best by looking at a particularly fascinating bit of shrubbery on the corral wall. Quartz had no such hesitation. He bent down, poked at the coins with one large grey finger, then left them in place as he sat back down with an understanding grunt.

It was obvious why Quartz did not pick up the dragon’s coins, but Fetch was baffled about their method of transportation, and his natural curiosity rose to the occasion. “You stored your treasure as smoke? Where do you store the— Oh.”

The process was rather obvious in hindsight. As Quartz said, the dragon had no pockets outside, so magically turning treasure into smoke and storing it inside was about the only possibility.

“You must have terrible indigestion,” he said instead.

Princess Tula snorted a very unprincess-like snort, but Quartz leaned forward and made an unexpected offer.

“There’s this crack in the ravine wall upstream just a bit. Spot where there’s some tinted quartz in the granite makes it sparkle pretty-like. Was thinking about quarrying some of it out for the fringe work on the bridge, mostly top spots that catch the sun. It’ll be a teech weaker than ordinary granite so probably shouldn’t do the whole structure that way, but I could pull a few blocks out for you to stash your loot.”

The dragon regarded the troll through narrowed eyelids. “That sounds like my previous home.”

Quartz shrugged. “Not that I’d ever comment on a lady dragon’s weight, but you grew a bit since then, I reckon. Ain’t no way you’d fit through that crack now, an’ if the Wizard was trying to drop you a little friendly hint about a safe spot for you to hide…”

Ever so slowly, the large draconic head nodded. “I used to watch his children as they played in a river pool outside my cave. He quite obviously thought it safe as his own house.”

Quartz walked back to the wagon, rummaged about in his things, and brought back one of the several maps he had recently drawn.

“It’s above the high water mark from last year, with some spray coming from this creek that hides it from casual looks. No spring flooding during the years you lived there, right?”

The dragon nodded again. “Less than a wingspan from the edge at times, but the flooding always brought down a sprinkle of gold dust or two from the mountains. Summer when the river level dropped was a good time to take the children prospecting upstream.”

Broom crossed her wooden arms where she was standing in the back doorway and seemed to glare at the dragon.

“I ensured they were washed before returning them,” said the dragon.

Fetch could not get the image out of his mind. Two young children, dripping river water and carrying shovels, placed on the front steps of the boulder home with Broom responsible for the rest of their evening care.

“Sounds easy enough,” said Quartz. He interlaced his thick fingers and flexed them, making a series of low popping noises. “Tomorrow, we’ll go up there and see about quarrying you out a proper cave. Then I’ll drag the blocks to the bridge site. Mebbie even find a way to work a nachurall-lookin’ door into the design to keep out nosey critters while you’re not home.”

“Why?” huffed the dragon with another puff of smoke that turned into the jingle of coins.

“You scratch my back, an’ I scratch yours,” said Quartz while pinning the parchment map down on the table for a few more notes. “Only more in a figurative sense than literal.”

“No, I mean why would you help me instead of taking advantage of my situation?”

Quartz shrugged. “Pa always said helpin’ somebody and expecting more in return always left you holdin’ an empty sack, but offering help when folk were at their worst always gave you a nice warm feelin’ in yer gullet, even if nothing ever came of it.”

There was another short puff of smoke from the dragon and a few more coins fell into the dirt.

“If you want, we could see if Broom would let you store your treasure in the house until there’s enough space in your cave,” volunteered Fetch. “It’s the most secure place around.”

The broom did not seem to take the suggestion well at first, but after a long look at the mismatched group in the corral, she gave a short nod of her handle.

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