//------------------------------//
// The Prince And The Empress 
// Story: Hecate's Orphanage 
// by BlackRoseRaven 
//------------------------------//

Chapter Two: The Prince And The Empress
~BlackRoseRaven

Thorn strolled down the hall, absentmindedly paging through a journal floating in front of him. By now, Team 0-0 had been deployed and had likely engaged the enemy... and he was admittedly a little eager to see them home and find out what happened, for a lot of reasons.
For now, though, he was off duty. Technically he'd been off duty all day, actually, but he needed to work. Hecate always told him to rest whenever he felt achy, but he hated not working: if he didn't keep himself busy with something, anything, then he ended up just pacing the halls all day, and the pain always seemed to get worse.
He liked working. He liked helping others, even if at the same time he wasn't precisely fond of having actual contact with other people. He was a little antisocial, he supposed, and being Hecate's son automatically made him terrifying to most of the population of Decretum.
Thorn came to a halt in front of a pair of armored doors, rolling his metal shoulder absently as the crystalline eye at the top of the frame scanned quickly over him. A moment later, the doors clanked loudly before pulling apart, the stallion striding fearlessly into a laboratory filled with massive, rumbling machines and strange ponies that were working fastidiously, rapidly assembling and fine-tuning some of their more sensitive equipment.
Most of the work here was done by either mechanical, completely-synthetic drones, or the Dogmatists: the proper name for 'Clockwork Ponies,' as they were called by most of the inhabitants of Decretum. These latter ponies were partly synthetic, generally designed for industrial or military purposes: long ago, Valthrudnir had created thousands upon thousands of Dogmatists to build and maintain his various projects, and to serve as shock troops when he went to war with other worlds. Their talents and personalities had all been erased and rewritten to better suit Valthrudnir's goals... although it seemed sometimes to Thorn that many of the Dogmatists still clung to vestiges of their old selves, every now and then showing a flash of emotion or some tic or shift.
There weren't many of the original Dogmatists left, but as the Orphanage began to recruit more and more ponies from across the worlds, new Dogmatists were now being produced. Many of the ponies who arrived here in Decretum were not in the best physical condition, and while some might accuse Hecate of only being interested in bolstering her own armies, Thorn knew that Hecate honestly just wanted to help these ponies be the very best they could be.
He glanced down at his own metallic limb, watching the way it shifted and flexed, servomotors humming quietly and pistons clicking as they pumped intermittently. Then the stallion hurriedly shook his head before forcing himself to return to the subject at hoof: it wouldn't do to linger, after all.
He strode towards the back of the laboratory, heading past the rows of tables to a large security door. It opened for him when he approached, the stallion opening his mouth, then instead sighing tiredly as he entered what was supposed to be a secure chemical studies room, and instead found one of the counters was piled high with juices, drinks, and candies. “Necrophage.”
A fiery-red mare poked her head up from what looked like a large trough, and then she brightened and spun hurriedly around, saluting sharply. She had a sky-blue mane that twisted jaggedly in all directions, and bright blue eyes that shone with happiness and energy. She was small and squat, but her body was muscular, and her jaws were disturbingly-large, filled with enormous teeth. And strangest of all, she didn't have a cutie mark. “Hello, sir!”
Necrophage wasn't a pony in the traditional sense though, so to speak: she was a Replicant, a special kind of Clockwork Pony who had been modified genetically and cultured from birth, designed to infiltrate and perform special tasks inside pony society. There were precious few Replicants left: they  had been among the final creations of the Jötnar before he had finally been defeated after underestimating ponykind one too many times.
“You aren't supposed to have food in here.” Thorn said dryly, gesturing at the pile of drinks and candies on the table, and then he frowned when the mare only giggled loudly. “Yes?”
“Oh, I know, sir, but that's not food.” Necrophage said earnestly, and Thorn frowned slightly before the Replicant explained brightly, pointing at each item in turn on the table: “That's blueberry tea! That's a milkshake! Those are lemon mango drops! That's chocolate powder! See, it's all drink and flavor stuff, stuff for mixing with other stuff, because this is all kind of icky. And it helps the fuel smell nicer, too, and... and I never ever ever drink or eat anything that would interact badly with it, and not just because I don't like bellyaches, but because I really want to do super-duper best for Queen Hecate, honest!”
Thorn sighed tiredly again, then he leaned up a little to look at the feed trough before grimacing in spite of his best efforts not to: Necrophage had been designed for 'recycling and cleaning' purposes, and her main function was eating corpses, dead matter, and any organic garbage she came across, then processing them in her stomach before regurgitating them in the form of liquid fuel. Very little of what she ate was wasted, which made her invaluable: since she was able to convert a hundred kilograms of dead matter into just about a hundred liters of liquid, only roughly ten percent of the matter was digested in the process.
It was impressive, and made her very important to their operations here, since by herself Necrophage was able to devour and process up to half a ton of fuel per day. Maybe not enough to keep Decretum running by herself, but nothing to scoff at, either. Furthermore, when it was necessary, they were able to send Necrophage to outposts in other worlds, and within a week she could usually refuel their equipment and their storage tanks.
And of course, it helped them keep their garbage down: food leftovers, giant dead bugs and rats swept out of vents, experiments-gone-wrong and decayed golems were all broken down into a slurry and dumped into the trough for Necrophage to eat. Thorn couldn't help but shiver a little as he looked past the happy-go-lucky mare at the endless feast of death, and then he cleared his throat before hurriedly looking back at his clipboard, saying finally: “I'll... make a note to Queen Hecate and we'll get you properly authorized... flavor additives. But I'm here on business, not pleasure, Necrophage.”
Necrophage immediately tried to look serious, nodding firmly and saluting again... and then she giggled loudly and leaned forwards, looking like an excited puppy. And Thorn sighed a little at this, the other problem with the Replicants: Valthrudnir had apparently had difficulty making them properly mimic actual pony emotions, so they tended to be a little... eccentric.
Thorn only pushed forwards, however, saying calmly: “In three days, you're to report to Experiment Hall C. You will be helping with preparations for a guest who will be arriving shortly, and remaining to act as part of the work crew for as long as you are needed. Understood?”
“Sir yes sir yes sir!” Necrophage said brightly, and then she paused before asking curiously: “Is it just me? Or am I going to have anyone else working with me?”
Thorn opened his mouth, then reminded himself that in spite of how strange she was, Necrophage was also technically the highest-ranking Replicant in Decretum: so even if she was air-headed and ditzy, she also did have certain privileges. It didn't say anything in the file about Necrophage having officer duties during her reassignment, but she was being given escort duty...
“Yes. Your sister Muse, and several Dogmatists are being assigned to the project as well.” Thorn said hesitantly, and Necrophage bounced on the spot, giggling and clapping her hooves excitedly. “But you're not allowed to speak to anyone about this. Understood?”
Necrophage nodded firmly, covering her mouth with her hooves before she muffled out: “Sir yes sir! I won't tell a soul!”
Thorn felt moodily like this was somehow going to come back and bite him, but he only shook his head before turning away. But he didn't get very far before Necrophage blurted suddenly out: “Can I ask you a question, sir?”
“I... I suppose.” Thorn said after a moment as he stopped in front of the door, nodding hesitantly as he looked moodily back at the mare, and Necrophage looked strangely excited by this chance as she hopped towards him.
“What does your cutie mark mean?” she asked inquisitively, and Thorn frowned a bit before he looked back over his shoulder at his hip.
He shrugged his cape to the side, wanting to ignore the subject, and yet somehow, well... Necrophage had big, curious, remarkably-innocent eyes for what was essentially supposed to be a war construct and living recycling plant, and she was bouncing a little from hoof-to-hoof, and, well... it wouldn't hurt to tell her.
Thorn bit his lip for a moment, then sighed a little and reached back to touch the profile of the raven's head on his flank, silently tracing around this shape before he murmured: “My special talent is for writing. Poetry... Hecate told me that I get that from my father.”
“Who was your Daddy if Hecate is your Mommy?” asked the mare curiously, and Thorn was almost surprised into a laugh, just by the pure childishness of the question.
Instead, he gave her a dour look, but since she continued to look insistent and didn't seem to understand how difficult a question that was, the stallion sighed before answering finally: “Hecate is my mother, but she adopted me. My biological parents are...”
He halted, then shook his head quickly before muttering: “It's not important and I have work to do.” Thorn stopped, reaching up to silently rub at his mechanical limb for a moment as the pistons whirred. “Go back to work, Necrophage.”
“Okay, sir.” Necrophage said cheerfully, smiling warmly over at the unicorn. He gave a thin smile in response, beginning to turn away, but then he almost flinched as Necrophage said kindly: “I'm here if you ever want to talk about it or anything, though. I might not know much, sir, but I do know that we're all in this together, right?”
“I... suppose.” Thorn said awkwardly, and then he cleared his throat before simply nodding and mumbling: “Well, we both have work to do. Let's focus on that for now.”
Thorn turned and awkwardly hurriedly away, his clipboard bobbing behind him as Necrophage waved brightly until the door slammed closed behind the stallion. And then Thorn skidded to a halt and dropped on his rump, sighing tiredly and dropping his head as he mumbled: “I don't know why she always insists on being... herself.”
The stallion looked uncomfortably over his shoulder, then he shook himself briskly before floating his clipboard in front of himself and studying the other jobs on it. Apart from telling Muse and the selected Dogmatists about their new assignment, he had projects to check in on, machines to make sure were calibrated correctly, trainees to inspect...
Thorn sighed and picked himself up, turning around, and then he looked up in surprise as a small metal orb whizzed through the air towards him. It stopped in the air above him, hovering and focusing its glowing blue glass eye on him before Hecate's voice grumbled: “Thorn.”
Her tone was exasperated and only a little distorted, and Thorn smiled awkwardly before he gestured over his shoulder, explaining: “I just finished talking to Necrophage about her duties. I'm heading to inform the others of their assignments. I'll stop along the way to run a system check as well-”
“No, Thorn. Report to my office as soon as possible, we have something else to discuss.” Hecate said moodily, and Thorn frowned a little before the orb clicked loudly and spun around, zooming away through the air.
The stallion looked uncertainly in the direction the security device had gone, and then he finally shrugged before deciding he might as well report to his mother's office right away. It would be better to find out what Hecate wanted before anything else: he knew that whenever she said 'as soon as possible,' it was generally a euphemism for 'immediately.'
Thorn rolled his metal shoulder, then made his way out of the laboratory, absently checking his clipboard as he made his way into the hall. He already had the full agenda memorized, but it never hurt to double-check: the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint his mother or be responsible for any avoidable mistakes. He'd caused enough trouble in the past by not being careful enough...
The stallion lowered his head a little as he felt pain shiver through his metal leg: the limb was missing, but that sure didn't stop it from hurting, especially when he thought about how he'd lost it in the first place.
That had been back during his first year here in Decretum: he'd been so fascinated with everything, with all the huge machinery and the Dogmatists who were all so peaceful and so orderly and organized. It had been so very different from where he'd grown up, where he'd been kept locked away in secret, and everything had been powered by magic he couldn't effect. Studying the machines had helped take the pain away, had helped him cope with his feelings of abandonment and loss, and all the schedules and routines and rules had given him a sense of control.
He didn't blame his parents, even if sometimes he wanted to. Even if sometimes he felt like he had been one big mistake on their part, at the same time... he knew his parents had loved him. For a decade, they had given up the entire world for him, and they had taken care of him, taught him and loved him, and then given him up, not because they wanted to get rid of him, but because they had to go places that were too dangerous for him. And they had given him up because he had been born in a place that was full of darkness and full of pain, and they wanted him to be safe, and to have a place with security, and where he could have friends.
They had saved him, really. He smiled briefly, dropping his head: they had protected him, and moved him to the safest, the best possible place, where he could become a strong adult, where he could help other ponies. And even if things had been very awkward with Hecate at first, more and more he understood why they had chosen her: because Decretum was safe, because Hecate was a mentor, because here, he got to experience not just one world, but to learn about dozens and dozens of cultures and races and peoples. Maybe other worlds would have been happier, but they wouldn't be nearly as safe, and he would never have learned even a smidgen of what he had here.
He liked it here, even if he had been a dumb, clumsy kid who had been far too curious about all the massive machinery and the secrets beneath the steel world. He had tested his luck on too many occasions, made too many runs through the mechanical underbelly of Decretum, made of nothing but frameworks of pipes and massive cables and enormous gears.
He had been a stupid kid. Energetic, listless, wanting to be like his parents even after they were long gone, wanting to be strong and to grow up too fast just so he could one day take off in search of them, adventure alongside them. He had always gone exploring, trying to impress Hecate, trying to prove to himself he was the child of his parents, running wild through the ever-ticking Clockworks and exploring every nook and cranny of Decretum's vast underbelly, never realizing how much of his life he was risking...
Not until he'd finally gotten caught in one of the largest gears, and lost his leg. The only reason he'd survived was because a security drone had found him, and Hecate had been there in minutes, and she had sacrificed a master gear to save his life, shutting down an entire section of Decretum, delaying her own plans and projects for days, weeks, years... just to protect him.
She had been forced to amputate, a surgery she had performed personally. They had removed the rest of his stumpy, useless limb, and he had spent days in the medical center, and Hecate had been there, by his side, the whole time. Hecate had weathered the storm with him, helped him, treated him with a gentility and a grace he had never expected to see in her after their rough start, and a kindness he didn't deserve. She created his first prosthetic leg for him only days later, and many others had followed after that as he'd grown up.
It was funny. Losing his leg was what had truly cemented their relationship, what had made Hecate treat him less like a guest she had no idea what to do with, and more like her son. And he had come to honestly see her as a mother, to care about her in the same way he did his own parents, and to look up to her and want to do his best to help her, and make up for all the trouble he'd caused and because he had come to respect her and trust her.
Thorn smiled faintly as he stepped out of an elevator and strode down a quiet hall towards a large security door with the crest of Decretum on it. He'd been walking on autopilot this whole time, and it looked like he hadn't even realized how much time had passed, with all these silly memories.
He knocked politely on the door, and there was a click before it whirred open for him, letting him stride into an office that was sterile, cold, and nearly devoid of personal artifacts. There were only a pair of massive shelves that were filled with neatly-ordered binders and reports, a massive shield on the wall behind the steel chair she sat in, and her neat and ordered desk with its few effects.
Hecate didn't look down from the holographic screens floating around her, the mechanical mare moodily jotting notes down into a booklet in front of her. Thorn waited politely, putting his clipboard aside before he carefully reached out and picked up the folding picture frame that Hecate kept on one corner of her desk. There were only two photographs in the paired frames, one of him, and the other of a proud black stallion with a brush-cut silver mane and white eyes; Thesis, her first son.
Hecate sighed quietly as her eyes flicked towards Thorn, and then she moodily flicked one metallic claw to dismiss the screens around her, before reaching out and snatching the folding frame away, snapping it shut and putting it grouchily down on the desk. “Why haven't you been sleeping?”
Thorn shrugged a bit, looking up at his mother with a small smile. “Pain, I suppose. Phantom feelings, and concerns over the future. I have a feeling-”
“Don't start with that 'bad omens' nonsense.” Hecate said moodily, but her eyes were concerned, and after a moment, she sighed quietly and said in a softer voice: “Those prophecies are self-fulfilling, Thorn. Of course if you decide that every time you start hurting, something bad is going to happen... then something bad is going to happen. Something bad always happens. This is Decretum, where we deal on a daily basis with so-called 'bad' things.”
“I don't think this is a bad place itself, however.” Thorn replied softly, and Hecate looked at him for a few moments before the stallion smiled a bit and said: “I can't help what I believe, Queen Hecate. I just know that no matter how tightly I cling to the physical, there are still things out there that I can't understand. Feelings that simply... are.”
“You're a lot like your parents.” Hecate replied quietly, and the stallion blushed a bit at this, bowing his head in gratitude before Hecate sighed and dropped her elbows on the table, closing her eyes and lowering her head. “I still don't know why they left you with me.”
Thorn only shrugged, looking up his mother for a few moments before he answered: “Logistically this place makes the most sense: there are no threats here and I'm protected by our operations and military forces.” He paused, then added with a small smile: “No threats to me apart from you yourself, of course.”
Hecate smiled briefly at this, losing her usual mask of coldness: it made her features seem less sallow,  even her crackling mane of lightning seeming to grow gentler. “Well, it's nice to know that you're not entirely like your parents. They never learned anything.”
Thorn laughed a bit despite himself, and then he looked down, his hoof shifting to his shoulder before Hecate said in a firmer voice: “But you do need your rest, Thorn, whether you like it or not. I have an important assignment for you to handle, and I want you at your best for it.”
Thorn tilted his head, and Hecate glowered at him before she straightened and laced her metal hands together, saying moodily: “I am talking to you as your superior now. Professionalism, Thorn.”
“Yes, Queen Hecate.” Thorn smiled all the same, even as he straightened and asked briskly: “What tasks do you need completed?”
Hecate studied Thorn meditatively for a few moments, and then she said with a hint of distaste: “Our special guest will require special attention during her stay, as she is on loan from Hel. As you're aware of, I've assigned two Replicants and several Dogmatists to serve as her work crew, and she'll have full access to several teams of Worker Drones.
“I have no desire to work with her. As a matter of fact, I would strongly prefer to avoid contact with her, unless absolutely necessary. Therefore I am assigning you to help manage the work force and to keep her in line.” Hecate said calmly, and Thorn grimaced ever so slightly, before he sighed and reached up to apprehensively touch the ring around his horn.
Hecate smiled thinly, not needing to speak to confirm his suspicion: because of that little piece of jewelry he wore, no demon of Helheim could risk harming him without bringing down the full wrath of the Archives and Goddess Hel herself. “I understand.”
“Do you have a problem with my orders?” Hecate asked moodily, and Thorn hesitated before he looked up at her and shrugged a little.
“I dislike using my Archive privileges. That's all.” Thorn said honestly, and then he shook his head briefly before adding quietly: “But no, Mother. I'll do it. What can you tell me about her?”
“Her name is Bani. She will act rude and obnoxious, but... she was the same way in life.” Hecate smiled moodily, but Thorn thought he saw a glimpse of something more under the surface: nostalgia, perhaps even affection. “She is a mix of Wrath and Pride, but do not mistake her confidence and cockiness for arrogance. I expect you to do whatever she asks, Thorn. Make a good enough impression on her, and she might even tell you more about your parents.”
“She knew my parents?” Thorn rose his head in surprise, and then he blushed a bit before clearing his throat and forcing himself to simply nod, trying his hardest to remain impartial and professional. “I mean, thank you, Queen Hecate. I'll keep that in mind and I'll make sure that I do everything necessary to make her comfortable during her stay.”
“Good.” Hecate paused, and then she rested back a bit in her throne of steel, relaxing a little as she answered: “And yes, she did know your parents. She knew them longer and better than I did, as a matter of fact. She was also particularly fond of your brother.”
“My brother...” Thorn shifted a little, looking down as a strange twist ran through his stomach. It was always strange for him to think about how there were siblings out there he'd never met: a brother and two sisters who might not even be aware that he existed. They might not know our parents are still alive.. “Does she know who I am? Will she know...”
Hecate shrugged, then said meditatively: “I suppose if she's still in Hel's confidence... then yes, she probably does. I do not want you using your familial connections for personal gain though, Thorn. I will not tolerate nepotism and she is not coming here to be your new best friend and to waste her time telling you old stories. She is coming here to help bring Decretum's Large Uplink Nexus online.”
The stallion nodded quickly to Hecate, and she sighed a little, rubbing at her head slowly before muttering: “Once the LUN is running, then I suppose you can do as you please with her. I'm sure she'll be around for a few days following the completion of the project: she has asked a very difficult favor in return for her assistance, but we are in no position to deny her.”
Thorn nodded again, then he hesitated before asking cautiously: “What about the request that Hel sent to us? Can you... is it possible for you tell me if they've made contact yet?”
“No reports have been filed and they're outside monitoring range. Furthermore, I'm fairly sure that I just said I do not want you abusing your status for privileges.” Hecate said moodily, but when Thorn only looked at her uncomfortably, she sighed after a moment and rubbed slowly at a temple with one steel claw. “Fine. I will let you know their status when it arrives. Are you that concerned for them?”
“It was hard to lie. I felt... uncomfortable doing it.” Thorn admitted, nodding a little and looking honestly at his mother: maybe he sounded a little childish, but still... “I guess... I feel guilty. And if they come back injured...”
“They are going to return injured. But that is not your fault. You were under orders to tell them what you did, and the only failing will be their own.” Hecate said calmly, shaking her head shortly. “As long as they work together and remember the basics of combat, they will not be incapacitated. This is only a training exercise, Thorn: maybe getting hurt will finally teach Moonflower his place.”
The stallion fidgeted a little again, and Hecate sighed and rolled her eyes before gesturing at him irritably. “Go and rest. I've given you your orders and you're supposed to be off duty.”
“Can I at least go and see Muse, let her know about the tasks for her?” Thorn asked, and Hecate glowered for a few moments... but then she sighed and nodded grudgingly.
Thorn began to smile and turn away, before he stumbled stupidly when Hecate asked almost abruptly: “Have you made any friends?”
The stallion looked lamely over his shoulder at her, then cleared his throat before rubbing at his face and saying awkwardly: “I don't see what that has to do with anything. I... I am... amicable with both Orphans and Dogmatists. I think that's more than enough.”
“Ponies place a great value on friendship. I know that you do as well, whether or not you'll admit it.” Hecate said gently, and Thorn turned around, bowing his head humbly and looking with embarrassment up at his mother: his mother, Hecate, who had abandoned her usual mask of coldness and contempt to look at him with the openness and compassion that the rest of the world so rarely saw... but unlike the rest of Decretum, Thorn never forgot that once upon a time, his mother had been a Princess of the Sun. “Once... I put a great value on friendship and family, too. So great, that the lack of it, the wanting of it...”
Hecate flexed one steel claw slowly, and then she looked up and said moodily: “Putting that metal leg on you was troublesome enough. I do not need you making the mistakes I did and ending up any more like me than you already are. Find friends, Thorn. Consider it an order from your Queen. I hear all the other matriarchs of Equestria have made similar orders at some point to at least one of their subjects, so I may as well join them in doing so.”
Thorn looked lamely at his mother, and then he reached up and rubbed the back of his head before he said awkwardly: “Necrophage is-”
“Incapable of rational thought. Find a real friend, not a broken circuit.” Hecate said irritably, and Thorn shifted uncomfortably on his hooves before the mechanical mare sighed and said sourly: “Since you've been asking about them so much, why don't you try and make friends with Team 0-0 when they return? Moonflower is an idiot, and La Croix is an irritating stripehorse, but Cadence and her father are... not completely worthless.”
“I thought you liked La Croix.” Thorn said, mostly to try and deflect from the subject. Hecate only glared at him, however, until he finally gave a lame smile and added hesitantly: “And I mean... I can attempt, but diplomacy has never-”
Hecate only rolled her eyes, gesturing at her son irritably with one metal claw. “These ponies all but slaver over the idea of friendship. Even most of the ones that come from damaged or outer rim worlds seem obsessed with moronic ideas of 'friendship' and 'harmony.' Even here in Decretum, the Dogmatists form their little bands and have preferred work partners.”
“Yes, I... I know.” Thorn mumbled, dropping his head. “I know it's important. It's just hard for me to find ponies to get along with. A lot of ponies are afraid of me and... a lot are afraid of you. And I find it so hard to talk to anyone about anything-”
“Are you ashamed that you're adopted? Are you ashamed of your parents, or that you were abandoned here with me?” Hecate asked darkly, leaning forwards over the desk, and Thorn winced a bit before the mechanical mare asked coldly: “Are you ashamed of me?”
Thorn shifted a little, and then he sighed quietly, not taking his mother's bait and far from fooled by her snappishness. “No, of course not. You know I'm not, I'm just... every time I do reach out or trust them, I just end up with ponies who want to impress you, or who think I can do things for them, or... I find them... difficult.”
“I know. You're a little elitist, Thorn, and you have high expectations of everyone and everything around you. And that is partly my fault, for training that into you.” Hecate replied, sitting back a bit and softening as she studied her son. “But you're better than that. I raised you to be better than me, and your parents were better ponies than me, who showed mercy to people who didn't deserve it and who dedicated themselves to protecting these worlds. You are not me, Thorn. You are your parents' son. If you can't learn to give these sniveling idiots a chance, then why are you here, trying to protect millions of sniveling idiot ponies from the quick death so many of them deserve?”
The stallion looked uncomfortably at his mother for a few moments, and then he cleared his throat and dropped his head, mumbling: “You frighten me sometimes, Queen Hecate.”
“Good. I should.” Hecate said grumpily, and then she gestured at him irritably. “I thought I told you to leave, by the way. Why are you still here, wasting my time? You have your assignments. If you're not going to rest, then go and find a friend apart from Necrophage.”
“Yes, Queen Hecate.” Thorn sighed a little, dropping his head forwards before he dragged himself around in a circle, mumbling: “I guess that it could be worse.”
Hecate moodily watched Thorn drag himself out, and then she laced her metal fingers together before sighing quietly herself and shaking her head slowly. She felt... guilty, she thought. Not just because she hated ordering Thorn around, but because she knew he was going to be upset when he found out what Team 0-0 was going to end up going through before they got back...
Well, it wasn't like Hel's guardians were going to kill them. On the other hoof... that didn't mean they weren't going to end up severely injured, perhaps even critically wounded. Especially Cadence: the ivory mare was fearless in the face of danger, thanks in part to the fact she couldn't die. Killing her only made more of the Swan Maiden she had once been emerge... which would further complicate things for other reasons if it did happen, but Hecate didn't feel like digging into the details of a problem she could do nothing about right now.
So instead, the mare sat back and flexed her metallic claw, the holographic screens flickering into life around her. She looked back and forth between these moodily, then reached up and tapped a quick set of commands across one of the screens, bringing up a wider set of statistics and studying them moodily as she rubbed the underside of her chin slowly.
Still, her mind was lingering on Thorn, whether she wanted it to or not. She supposed that in the early years, she had spent almost all her time thinking about Thesis, too: even after he'd grown up into a strong young stallion fully capable of taking care of himself, she had always worried most about him, in spite of the fact that there had been a war raging on...
Hecate shook her head slowly as she tapped through screens: some instincts you just couldn't kill. She supposed that it was those same instincts, those same... 'chemical reactions,' as Thesis would have grumbled about, that made her the way she was...
No, that wasn't fair. Thesis had been a brilliant, cheerful stallion before Valthrudnir had tried to reprogram him in his own image. But all Valthrudnir had done was make Thesis psychotic and confused: Thesis had still had a heart that had believed in things like love and brotherhood, but also a mind that refuted the existence of emotions, that explained every bit of magic and miracle in life as nothing but hard science and soulless consequences, that believed in nothing but chemical reactions.
Thesis had ended up becoming so sad, so broken. She had eventually been forced to accept that her son had died more than a thousand years ago, and all that had been left behind was an empty, broken shell of a stallion. A true Replicant, a chrysalid that had replaced her child and who did nothing but shout orders at her and inflict pain and suffering on the world, because he didn't believe there would be any punishment for his actions in the afterlife. As if that somehow justified all the things they had done...
Hecate knew in that small, tiny piece of her that refused to change, that refused to die, that even if there would be no punishment for the sins and wrongs and evils they committed in life, it was still wrong to hurt others merely for amusement or personal gain. Even if you never suffered for it, right and wrong still existed: you couldn't simply erase them from existence merely because you wanted to. You couldn't justify yourself that because there were no consequences, it wasn't the wrong thing to do... all the things that I have done.
Hecate shook herself briefly, shrugging off her thoughts. There was no point in thinking about the past, and everything that had been: Thesis, for better or worse, had been put out of his misery decades ago now. Although there was a strange, almost laughable irony in the fact that now she had adopted the son of the stallion who had been responsible for her own son's death...
The mare sighed and shook her head slowly. No, saying it was 'ironic' was just an easy way to dismiss it. And she didn't want to dismiss this: Thorn was her son now, for better or worse, and as hard as she could be on him, she never wanted to undervalue him.
A little more than ten years had passed now, every day of which she'd struggled to do the right for him, to not make the mistakes she had made with Thesis. Every day of which she questioned if she was worthy of being a 'mother:' an Empress and Queen, certainly, but a mother...
She still remembered the day that they had shown up: those three idiots, escorted by none other than Goddess Hel herself, who had been decent enough to make a truce with them for that day. But Hel was a mother herself, and Hecate had understood: not even she would have taken advantage of parents who were being forced to give away their child.
Thorn had been curious more than afraid: he had been such an inquisitive child! Then again, he'd also been raised in a place where monsters like her weren't all that uncommon, and nor did she expect that she was the most frightening thing Thorn had ever seen.
She smiled briefly, shaking her head slowly. It had been enough of a surprise just to see them at all: but to see that they had actually had another child, and then find out that they wanted to give the colt to her...
Horses of Heaven. They had ended up giving her three days to make a decision: all that the little group could afford. But how could she say no? Oh, she had tried to send them away, certainly: derided them, ignored them, denied them, then eventually tried to tell them to find someone else, like Freya or Antares or even Innocence, she had likely grown up enough to handle a foal by now...
But no. They wanted her to raise the foal. They wanted him to be safe and hidden away, here in Decretum: for as welcome and nourishing as Looking Glass World was, they had made many enemies... and some of the same demons intent on capturing or hurting them would be all too eager to use someone like Thorn as bait.
It was ridiculous, the lengths they went to in order to keep up their charade... but Hel had her role, and those three had theirs. All of them were trapped in the tangled webs of rules and laws... not even those three morons had been able to escape it. Even if they had their freedom, they still paid a cost for it: a cost that had proven much higher than any of them had expected, Hecate had seen.
So Thorn Blackfeather had become her son... and of course, within a year, she'd failed to protect him. She wondered sometimes whether or not Thorn blamed her... if he maybe even wondered if she'd hoped that some day, she'd be given the excuse to replace inferior flesh with superior steel, just like she had with her own decaying body...
She didn't honestly know what she thought herself. The original design had been a simple prosthetic, but as Thorn had matured and become an adult, she had put more and more effort into building the best possible prosthetic she could. Now it was a triumph of magical and technological engineering: a cybernetic leg that could move as easily as the real thing, but was dozens of times stronger and more resilient.
Hecate flexed one of her own mechanical claws silently: she could tell herself all she wanted that she had done it purely out of need to protect and help her son, but there was more to it than that, too. Machines were dependable, and something she could control: a machine could be rebuilt even after it was destroyed, and memory chips could be replicated, data could be copied, and there was no need to worry about silly things like souls or emotions. Even if machines had their own strange life... their lives were easier to maintain, easier to fix, easier to change if something went wrong. Machines weren't dangerous to care about.
The Clockwork Queen shook her head slowly, her lightning mane sparking around her head before she scowled as a screen beeped at her several times. Her eyes flicked towards the warning symbol that was now flashing over it, and then she finally resigned herself to dealing with whatever nonsense had just cropped up: she had no doubt that it wasn't a problem with any of the Clockwork machinery that ran Decretum, but instead the more organic elements that had taken up residence here.
Hecate reached up and tapped on the screen, and it was almost immediately replaced by the face of a panicked-looking pony, who blurted the moment he saw Hecate had opened the channel: “Problem! Problem! We have a Class One alert!”
“What?” Hecate's eyes widened slightly, and then she gritted her teeth and leaned forwards, ordering sharply: “Engage full lockdown and scramble-”
“Oh, now now, there's no need for that, buttercup!” trilled a cheery voice, and Hecate's eyes narrowed before she felt something grasp into her steel shoulders, twinkling motes of ice gleaming in the air around her as the temperature suddenly sharply plummeted.
“Cancel the Class One alert. Tell everyone to get back to work. False alarm.” Hecate said moodily, and then she waved a metal claw to gesture away the screens before closing her eyes and asking disgustedly: “What do you want, Hel?”
The Goddess of Helheim giggled loudly as she stepped backwards; or rather, the ice puppet that she was acting through did. But even if it was made completely from frost, with a dress of snow covering a long, gangly crystalline body, there was something terribly-alive about the construct: it was like more than just Hel's will animated this alien biped that had the sallow features of a cow. “Oh, just a little bit of love and affection, and maybe a big old 'thank you' for helping you so much, Miss Tin o' Beans. That'd be great.”
Hecate glowered over her shoulder at the cow-headed goddess, and then she shook her head in distaste before saying irritably: “Any gratitude I feel for you is erased by your constant need to be the center of attention and interfere with my operations. Get out of my world.”
“Bossy, bossy, bossy!” Hel clucked her tongue, then snapped her fingers... and then she blinked in surprise as Hecate only calmly stood up and turned around, crossing her metal arms as she loomed over the tall but terribly-thin ice puppet.
Hel wildly snapped her fingers several more times, then uselessly hammered her icy fists against Hecate's steel breast before the mechanical mare rolled her eyes and reached up to catch one of the goddess' wrists, making the ice puppet whine loudly and flail at her helplessly. “Hey! Hey, that's not fair at all, you great big cheater! You're not allowed to block my clicker!”
“I am not your minion, Hel. And I am well aware of how you enjoy abusing your powers.” Hecate replied distastefully, clenching her metal fingers and making Hel squawk as her wrist was crushed into nothing but snowy powder. “Insulating my armor against your abilities was one of my first priorities. Your powers can't directly effect me.”
Hel glowered at her, then shook her stump of wrist wildly before a new hand formed from frost, the goddess immediately shoving a finger into Hecate's nose as she threatened: “I can trash the rest of this trash-heap world, though, so you better watch yourself, lady. You might think you're... 'ahead' of the game, but I've always got an ace in the hole.”
Hecate looked fearlessly at Hel, and the goddess glared back before she suddenly smiled, bouncing excitedly on her feet and tapping a quick tattoo cheerfully over Hecate's mechanical body as she asked brightly: “So hey, how's the kid doing? You attach any guns to him yet or anything?”
The mechanical mare gave Hel a disgusted look, then she gestured irritably with one finger at the goddess, who groaned loudly before sighing loudly and throwing her arms in the air to stride past Hecate and around to the other side of the mechanical mare's desk, asking grumpily: “Is that better, miss rusty spoon?”
The Queen of Decretum simply rolled her eyes, then asked moodily: “Why are you here and what do you want, Hel? I don't have time for your fun and games.”
Hel grumbled in frustration, childishly stomping her feet before she whined loudly: “Why is everyone always so mean to me? Oh, sure, maybe I'm sort of evil and all, but you totally are too! I mean, look at all this crap, I don't build giant machines to take over worlds and kill the poop out of people, I keep a billion demons and monsters locked up where they can't hurt anybody!”
The ice puppet flailed a little, and Hecate rolled her eyes before pointing at the construct and threatening: “If you continue to try my patience, Hel, I will do precisely what Valthrudnir did to you, and reach right through that idiotic toy of yours to drag the real you out of your hidey-hole beneath Helheim.”
Hel laughed loudly at his, leaning forwards with a grin as her eyes gleamed and she put her hands on her hips. “Oh really? You think you really have the knowledge to do that, you overgrown spatula? I could totally take you in a fight, come on, show me what you got!”
The construct rose her fists gamely, dancing back and forth on the spot, and Hecate only looked at her irritably before the puppet suddenly became serious, glaring at the mechanical goddess as she said coldly: “Precisely. You aren't going to fight me because you know that even if you got the know-how, you don't have the raw power to exploit that little vulnerability of mine.”
The two studied each other for a few moments, and then Hel suddenly brightened again, clapping her hands and saying cheerfully: “But my daughter probably could! Have I told you about how proud I am of her? Oh she's growing up so fast... kids, huh? They all grow up so fast! One moment they're all little tykes, the next they're big adults, and next thing you know after that, boom, they're dead and off on some new whirlwind adventure!”
Hel swayed back and forth, lacing her fingers together as she let her arms pendulum, and Hecate shook her head before she asked moodily: “If you're so interested in children, then why didn't you take Thorn?”
“Oh, don't even joke, you big metal momma. I know how attached you are to the kid, and you know how bad I am with children. I didn't even raise my own daughter... kept an eye on her, oh sure, but it was always behind the scenes, letting her make her own way through life and death, trusting in All Daddy to make sure that not everything went to the place named after me.” Hel replied easily, waving a hand dismissively. “No, no. I'm all behind the scenes, not so much the hands-on, stuff. I write and direct, but rarely act.”
Hecate couldn't help but give a thin smile at this metaphor: it was all too appropriate for the goddess. The mechanical mare studied her for a moment, then turned and sat down at her desk, ignoring the way Hel propped herself up on it and leaned forwards, batting her eyes. But this time, she refused to get drawn into the goddess' games.
Instead, the mechanical mare tented her fingers on her desk and simply looked moodily at Hel, the goddess grinning at first... then slowly starting to squirm under the unflinching, cold gaze of Hecate. And finally, Hel groaned loudly before shoving herself backwards and falling with a loud thump to the floor of the mechanical mare's office, complaining: “You really are a piece of work, you know that? I don't think any other person in all these bajillion worlds has a stare like you do.”
Hecate only continued to look moody, and after a moment, Hel rolled her eyes before she grumbled: “Fine. As a matter of fact, I'm not here to visit just because of your charm and wit, missy metal. I'm here because I need to level with you about something.”
The mechanical mare narrowed her eyes at this, the two looking at each other for a few moments before Hel smiled dangerously and swirled a single finger through the air beside her head. “You see, I don't really buy into nobility and redemption. We do what suits us, that's what I feel, that's what I believe, and that's the way I try and live my own life, too.
“I have many reasons to want to protect what I've got. And I've got plenty of reasons to want to try and keep you here under my thumb, too, sweetie-cake. Not just because I'm a little anemic and I know how good iron is for me, but because you're the last living link to good ol' Vally-wally. And gosh, I would just hate to lose all this technology!”
Hel gestured expansively around herself, grinning widely, and Hecate studied the goddess intently before the ice puppet clapped her hands together and said calmly: “So for the last decade and change, I've been happily backing you, giving you all the help you need to get this place up and running, just like how I gladly helped Heaven get its scrawny pale ass back together. I know how to play the game, metal momma, I've been playing it for years and years and years longer than you can count.
“And now the time has come for me to ask for a little something in return from you, for all the generosity I've given you. Something that's... maybe a little outside of what we agreed to, but...” Hel leaned forwards, rubbing her forefinger and thumb together with a wink. “I'm sure that since I have the cash and the power, you'll be willing to bend the rules for me.”
Hecate looked up at Hel with disgust, and then she sighed tiredly, shaking her head slowly and muttering: “Amazing how some things never change. First Valthrudnir turned me into nothing but an administrator program for Endworld, and then I was dragged to Looking Glass World and forced to demean myself working for a rude, obnoxious loudmouth. And now, even with Decretum mine and mine alone...”
“Well, toots, that's the sad truth of the world. There's always a bigger fish.” replied Hecate with a disdainful flick of her wrist. “You know. Unless you're me. I'm the mother of all whalesharks. I'm the gigantosaurus rex. I'm the big momma, little metal momma.”
Hecate rolled her eyes in distaste at this, then asked irritably: “What do you want me to do, Hel? And why do you want me to do it when you're supposed to be all powerful?”
“Partly for the power trip, sure, but even if I'm just about omnipotent, sweetie, and real close to omniscient... I'm not perfect.” Hel replied candidly, waggling a finger at the mechanical mare before she clenched and unclenched her fingers, magic zapping along her arm before she flicked her hand towards Hecate.
Energy crackled in an arc into the metal mare, who only grimaced slightly as the magic uselessly arced back and forth over her steel body before Hel said softly: “Just like you demonstrated yourself, buttercup. Or do you really think that you're so head and shoulders above everyone else, you're the only person to ever figure out there are certain little nuisances that block up my powers?”
Hecate frowned at this, and then Hel crossed her arms and added moodily: “Sure, I can always just create a baseball bat and knock your block off like you're nothing but a dumb zombie, but you know me. I like to click my clicker. Me and Vally-wally admittedly had that in common: we liked to just make people blow up ourselves, not hit stuff with other stuff. Fun as that is, it's also very annoying learning to aim all over again. I'm supposed to have grown all out of that!
“So, long story short, I'm enlisting the help of you and your jolly crew of nutjobs to help me with a little bit of kitchen work. Oh, yes, I know you've got something rather important going on for me already...” Hel grinned slightly, reaching up and tapping her nose, and Hecate narrowed her eyes dangerously after a moment as she realized...
“You specifically wanted your Archives distracted. That's why you chose them... no, more than that.” Hecate said slowly, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she leaned forwards. “This is why you pushed to run this stupid test of yours. You want to see how the best of my best fare against-”
“Against my best of the best, and make sure that you're up to the challenges I have for you. Because, metal momma, if you didn't raise them chickies just right... then you're not only useless to me, you've gone and wasted my time.” Hel interrupted, crossing her arms and looking evenly across at Hecate. “You promised results after all. And oh, sure, you've done a swell job, fighting off a monster here and there, honeybunny. But so far, nothing my Archives couldn't handle, so I'm not super impressed just yet. You'll have to really show some get up and go if you want me to do more than throw money and some low-level demons your way.”
Hecate looked moodily at the goddess, studying her darkly before she said in a low, dangerous voice: “I am not your thug, Hel. Decretum and my Orphanage are my business. And if you attempt to tamper with that, I have no problem dissolving our treaty and agreement.”
Hel smiled smugly at this, crossing her arms and asking patronizingly: “Oh, really? Gee, I'm so scared, you big can opener. Unless you happen to be a can of whoop ass you're gonna open up all over me, why precisely should I be afraid-”
Hecate made a short, diagonal gesture with a metal claw, a holographic screen appearing in front of her before she said coldly: “Authorization code: 'Ithavoll,' confirmation code: 'metempsychosis.'”
Hel cocked her head curiously as images flashed on screen, and then the ice puppet's eyes widened in disbelief before she slowly gritted her teeth, eyes blazing with fury as she opened her mouth, raising a hand...
The mechanical mare was unflinching and fearless, only looking coldly back at Hel, and the goddess slowly closed her mouth before she gritted her teeth... then suddenly gave a thin smile, asking moodily: “So when I play games with you, it's all badong and stuff, huh? But when you play games with little ol' innocent me...”
Hecate only flicked her wrist, banishing the holographic screen and saying curtly: “I hope we have an understanding.”
The goddess scowled darkly, then she leaned forwards and said distastefully: “This is just about an act of war, you know. I don't like that. I don't like that one little bit. I think I'm going to have to send some demons here to destroy your whole facility. I think I'm going to do what Vally-wally did and dump a whole slice of Helheim right into Decretum. I think-”
“Shut up.” Hecate said coldly, and Hel's jaw dropped and her whole body went limp with shock before Hecate pointed at her and continued fearlessly: “I will do whatever it takes to protect my empire, even from you. I am not afraid of you, Hel, and I have plenty of countermeasures in place to protect Clockwork World from you, from Terra, from any other 'do-gooders' or self-proclaimed 'villains.' I am not afraid of you, Hel. I am not afraid of your hordes of whipped demons. This universe needs order, and I am going to provide precisely that... and I will not let any of you stand in my way.”
Hecate slammed a metal claw down against her desk, leaning forwards aggressively, and Hel rose her hands in a gesture of surrender, leaning backwards and saying awkwardly: “Hey, hey, whoa now, metal momma, you've made your point. You don't have to get all... bitchy. What, you install ovaries in that thing so you can have robo-PMS?”
The mechanical mare only narrowed her eyes dangerously, and Hel snorted before she dropped her arms and said moodily: “You really are no fun at all. I should have known that Vally-wally always had an extra ace in the hole, though, whether or not he'd never use them... or no, those were trophies, weren't they? He always loved collecting stuff, like trading cards. Like a five year old, he was. You don't get offended when I say that about your ex-whateverhewas, right?”
Hecate crossed her arms as she straightened, her expression only growing darker, and Hel looked moodily at the Queen of Decretum for a few moments before she sighed and bowed politely, muttering: “You might not be a can of whoop ass, but I guess that big helping of 'screw you' is even worse in some ways. Fine.”
Hel straightened, then brushed grumpily at her snowy dress before saying darkly: “Still, you better not screw this up. Because you want this responsibility? Fine, you get all the responsibility now. And I'm gonna be happy to tattle-tale on you to everyone else if you screw this up or if even one of your little projects step out of line.”
“Good. What did you want me to take care of?” Hecate asked calmly, and the goddess glowered at her before Hecate smiled thinly, gesturing easily off to the side with one mechanical claw. “Like you said. My responsibility. I suppose that means I have to clean up the messes you can't handle yourself, Hel.”
“You are just begging for a spanking, Hecate.” Hel threatened, gesturing at her angrily before the icy goddess huffed loudly, then she said grouchily: “I don't feel like talking to you anymore, and I have some meat to butcher. I'll tell big bovine Bani to tell you what I was going to tell you today but I don't feel like telling you anymore. Got it?”
Hecate only gave a thin smile at this, nodding once. Hel only continued to glower, however, before childishly making a face at her and blowing a loud raspberry at the mechanical mare until she vanished from existence with a loud pop.
The Queen of Decretum gazed moodily at the space where Hel had been a moment before, and then she shook her head slowly before sitting back at her desk and finally letting herself relax a little with a visible sigh of relief. She'd honestly had no idea Hel was going to react to her little gambit, and if the goddess had turned on her, it would have made things... difficult. She knew that in the future she would have to be careful, and these facilities monitored stricter than ever...
But if everything went as planned, then perhaps in a few short years, these stupid little ponies would no longer have to fear even the most vicious of gods and monsters. And Hecate would be there to watch as her clockwork, her machinations, her Decretum brought true and ultimate order to these countless worlds in a way that Valthrudnir had never imagined.