Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Lady Of Light
~BlackRoseRaven
There were hundreds of them. Perhaps a thousand, maybe even more than that, Cadence thought, as her eyes roved slowly back and forth.
Countless corpses, skeletons, undead; dozens and dozens of Nzambi; strange, alien monstrosities of fused flesh and bone that Cadence had never seen before, patrolling slowly above on ominous, enormous wings.
This army of the dead milled and groaned and whispered, led by two figures: one was a strange puppet made of stone and bone, toxic green light pulsing in the chinks in its armor shell. It wore a grisly skull-mask and walked on four spindly legs that ended in gleaming talons, shaped like some bizarre beast that Cadence had never seen before.
The other, however, Cadence recognized all too well, doing her best to be civil when Melinda smiled at her and greeted tenderly: “Lady Danzsöngr. It is a pleasure to meet you again, even if on unfortunate terms. I-”
“Swan Maiden. You will die painfully, unless you surrender Baron La Croix to us. Then, you will only die.” hissed the monstrosity as it stepped forwards aggressively. Cadence narrowed her eyes at this, but the golem-beast's eyes only glowed ferociously from the sockets of its mask, as it roared: “Do not test us! We are-”
“Shh.” Melinda said gently, and the golem shuddered before the light glowing through its body suddenly pulsed, as if in surprise, and then it simply froze in place, head falling limp as Melinda chastised: “There is no need for such behavior, and no excuse for it, either.”
The Mother of Witchcraft paused, then looked up and smiled reassuringly, bowing her head politely. “I do apologize for the behavior of my accomplice. I am afraid that those of Bondye's clan do not teach very good manners, especially to their servants.”
“What are you doing here, Melinda?” Cadence asked shortly, and then she grimaced as the Swan gently nudged her. Admittedly, the Swan telling her that she should be more polite only made her feel like being even ruder, but she sighed before grudgingly adding: “Sorry. It's been a rough... while.”
“I understand, darling, and I'm sure that my appearance here is unsettling.” Melinda smiled as she met Cadence's eyes: she was honest, even compassionate, and yet Cadence felt like Melinda was meticulously measuring her every movement, studying her with such intensity that it felt like she could- “Read your thoughts? Almost, but... not quite. Only the loud ones, dear. But you are unusual in the fact you have two rivers of life inside you, and it is very different to tell one from the other.”
Cadence did her best not to grimace as she suppressed her thoughts as much as possible, but Melinda only smiled at her kindly, saying softly: “I will refrain from glancing too deeply into your mind, dear. It is only that... loud thoughts beg for attention. But you wish to keep things on business, do you not?”
Melinda paused, then straightened and continued almost solemnly: “Bondye desires Baron La Croix to be returned to him. It is difficult for me to choose sides here: old ways and old fashions keep me curious as to why you would go to such lengths to protect a servant of the enemy, even if he has served faithfully thus far. A traitor is always stained, is he not? And he was created by Bondye, was he not?”
“He's my friend. I don't care where he came from. I only care what he does now.” Cadence replied firmly, and Melinda smiled reassuringly as she held up a hoof.
“I'm not challenging you, my dear. I know there are many, many problems with my own ways of thinking. Problems I am trying to mend, even now.” Melinda gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head slowly. “But old habits die hard, as I'm sure you must understand, Lady Danzsöngr.”
“Cadence.” the mare corrected.
“I disagree.” Melinda smiled, cryptic and kind and firm all at once. “There are two of you, but neither of you are Cadence: there is only Danzsöngr.”
Cadence frowned at this, but then she scowled as the eerie statue trembled before it snarled, raising its head as it turned its masked features towards Melinda and hissed: “Witchdoctor, do not dare to-”
Melinda smiled, but her eyes were like ice as she asked pleasantly: “If I have offended you so greatly, shall I remove myself from your company and leave you to deal with these dear ponies yourself?”
Silence fell, punctuated only by the whimpers and moans of the restless dead, before the golem-thing suddenly dropped its head and mumbled almost childishly: “No. Stay.”
“That is what I thought.” Melinda turned her attention back towards Cadence, saying: “But I have been bereft in my duties. Dear, allow me to introduce Mfalme Kuoza, a... necromancer of Bondye's, and a... conduit for his powers.”
“I am no 'necromancer,' miserable witchdoctor. I am the embodiment of Bondye, I am the High Priest of Darkwater.” growled the strange entity, and Cadence only snorted before the monster rounded on her and hissed: “And you. Disgusting abomination of Hel. Yes, I know precisely what you are, and I know precisely what to do with your kind.”
Cadence narrowed her eyes, and Mfalme Kuoza rose his head, roaring: “Do you hear that? Do you see how afraid they are? The weaklings of the metal world already tremble before us and beg for mercy! But there shall be none!”
“I sincerely apologize, dear. I know this must be very grating to you. Bondye's servants are all of a particular sort, though, and there's little I can do to persuade them to act otherwise.” Melinda apologized, before she turned her eyes towards Mfalme Kuoza and added quietly: “But I am sure he can at least try to have a civil conversation for a moment.”
The creature shifted almost nervously, but Cadence decided to take the initiative before either of them could speak again, saying quickly: “I want to speak to Bondye. I want to know why he's doing this. It's one thing to want La Croix but it's another to be willing to march an army on a defenseless village just to make a point.”
The monster snorted in contempt, but Melinda looked at the golem pointedly before she ordered: “Well, servant? Summon your master.”
Mfalme Kuoza hissed furiously, but then he snorted in contempt as he stepped backwards and rose his skull-masked face high, the malevolent light glowing brighter out of his sockets and the cracks in his body as he growled: “Very well. May my master punish your impertinence as he sees fit.”
For a moment, the golem slumped, but then the energy in the air changed, became slick and fetid and hot, as the puppet rose its head and a new voice growled: “I am not a familiar to be summoned at will. Are you returning my servant, Swan?”
“No. I am giving you a message.” Cadence replied coldly, fearlessly studying the puppet: she could feel Bondye's powers flowing through it, giving it new life and strength, but his malignancy and his arrogance were already making Mfalme Kuoza's stone and bone body steam. Bondye would rot the puppet out with his own carelessness at this rate. “Cease all hostilities and surrender. If you surrender and provide information to us on Loki, we promise leniency for your crimes.”
Bondye snorted in disgust at this, and then he spat: “And I suppose that I should be grateful for your offer? But your kind has never been anything but savages. Arrogant, stupid, greedy savages.”
“You're one to talk. Using the dead like pawns, putting innocent lives at risk, and worst of all, thinking that somehow you can make some deal with Loki, like he's going to let you live at the end of all this.” Cadence snorted, glaring at the puppet. “You're a coward.”
“I am your better. And you will not talk to me that way, poppet, or I will kill you.” Bondye growled threateningly, but Cadence only smiled thinly.
“Go ahead and try. Better people than you have already taken their shot.” Cadence's eyes flashed as she leaned forwards, adding menacingly: “And better people than you have succeeded.”
“I think perhaps things are getting a little too heated.” Melinda cut in gently, before she continued in a soothing but serious voice: “I think it would be best if we worked on establishing a bit of common ground between us. We're all adults here, aren't we? And while Cadence, you have been rather rough and discourteous, you must admit the show of force is... rather crude, Bondye.”
“Shut up, witch.” Bondye said disgustedly, and Melinda's eyes narrowed slightly before the puppet turned back towards Cadence, saying contemptibly: “I will have nothing to do with toys and whores. My decision is clear and final, and... a-and...”
Bondye's voice broke, and the puppet started to shiver as strange, guttural growls and rasps came from it. After a moment, Cadence's eyes widened as she realized that Bondye was choking, but she couldn't sense any magic: all she could feel was a sudden coldness that was emanating from Melinda, as the Sky Witch said softly: “No, Bondye, do go on. Please. I insist that you say your piece. We're all listening.”
Bondye choked and wheezed, green light pulsing erratically out of the puppet before the golem toppled forwards, twitching helplessly on the ground as this mighty, terrible god of death whimpered and rasped like a child with something lodged in his throat, gasping and gargling even as he struggled to say: “I am... y-you cannot... stop this. Stop, release m-me...”
“Please speak up, Bondye, we can't hear you. If you have nothing further to contribute to the discussion, it would be best if you just stayed quiet for now.” Melinda reprimanded, before she added in a gentler voice as she smiled at Cadence, who was staring with disbelief at the gorgeous unicorn: “My apologies for being so... terse, dear. But I would like to see this business concluded as soon as possible.”
“I... understand.” Cadence said after a moment, maybe now only starting to understand that Melinda was truly a force to be reckoned with. Had she really underestimated the powers of the Sky Witch until now? But she can hex a god... without wasting even a smidgen of energy... “I just want to avoid as much bloodshed as possible.”
“Yes, dear, don't we all?” Melinda studied her with a kind smile, before she said softly: “It's very good of you to want to swallow those nasty primal urges and work with us. But I do need to make a selfish request of my own, dear...”
The Sky Witch leaned towards her as the puppet choked and spasmed helplessly on the ground, before Melinda whispered into her ear: “Trust me.”
Cadence looked uncertainly at the mare for a few moments, and then she finally nodded hesitantly. Then she grimaced as Bondye finally managed a long, rasping breath as the puppet shakily shoved itself up to its claws, wheezing: “Loki... Loki will hear of this betrayal, Melinda...”
“By all means. Feel free to inform him.” Melinda smiled courteously, before she added as the puppet started to snarl: “Perhaps you should go speak to him now, if our discussions aren't going to merit any further development.”
“I... you will pay for your treachery, witch.” growled Bondye, but his voice was weak and tinny, still rasping from the lack of air before the puppet suddenly twitched and fell forwards with a clank.
After a few moments, the golem slowly picked itself up, visibly smoldering from Bondye's careless abuse of his body. Mfalme Kuoza hissed uselessly through his teeth as he clambered back to his claws, shaking himself out before he touched his cracked skull-mask and growled: “T-There, now all of you have seen it, all of you have seen that-”
“Bondye is weak, yes. And you are weaker still, seeing as even serving as nothing more than a temporary vessel for his voice has left you burnt and ruined.” Melinda observed, and the golem snarled at her, but the mare only bowed her head politely, saying softly: “Perhaps that was out-of-line, however: I fear my patience is very much at its end, and it makes me... difficult.”
The golem shifted apprehensively away, and Cadence bit her own lip before she forced herself to be as professional as possible, asking: “Is there anything we can agree on? Will you withhold your forces if I bring La Croix out for a discussion?”
Melinda cocked an eyebrow curiously at this, then she started to smile, until she was interrupted by Mfalme Kuoza rudely stomping forwards and hissing: “We will not accept even your cowardly sacrifices at this point. No sacrifice, no surrender! The cost of your arrogance will be paid in the blood and bodies of the ponies you so treasured and sought to protect, and only after you see them die, will you too be allowed to perish!”
“I suppose that dashes any hopes for a peaceful resolution.” Melinda said softly, and then, without so much as a glance in Mfalme Kuoza's direction, she flicked her horn towards him and he simply vanished.
Behind her, the horde of undead roiled and rumbled nervously, but Melinda only turned a calm smile towards Cadence, saying softly: “Ten minutes, dear. That's all I can guarantee you before Mfalme Kuoza drags himself out of that little wrinkle in time.”
Cadence frowned, and Melinda smiled before she asked inquisitively: “But before you go, is that dear Moonflower able to come out and play? I would love to test him some more, darling, but he feels a little... distracted. It would not be very fair of me to surprise him with a test, even if all in the spirit of fun and games. Do ask him for me. And if he needs some time, we can put it off until later: is he alright? Did that awful brute Ignominious injure him?”
“No, uh... it's because of Thorn. Moonflower and Thorn are a couple-”
“Oh.” Melinda seemed surprised, almost bewildered, as she stared at the mare. “So they really are paramours? That is so very... strange.”
Cadence blinked, but Melinda only shook her head and said earnestly: “It is just not something natural that happened in my day and age, or at least not without dire consequence. As I said, I am still caught in my own time and culture, even after all the years that have passed, and sometimes it is... it is hard for me to not fall back into those habits.”
Melinda halted, then she smiled and said suddenly: “Perhaps I shall go and speak to Prince Thorn. Offer my friendship and support to him in these troubling times. I know he was badly injured by that rat, Cancer, and if there is anything I can do for him, I feel that I should. It was very selfish and rude of me to get so caught up in testing his mother, when I could have been protecting him.”
“Uh...” Cadence stared for a few moments at Melinda, before she said awkwardly: “You know he's not... in Decretum anymore, and I'm not sure that...”
“Oh, darling, don't worry. Wherever he's gone, there I'll go. It's just a matter of looking at it as nothing more than a step away.” the mare said pleasantly, before in front of Cadence's shocked eyes, Melinda simply vanished.
The Sky Witch smiled to herself as she slipped backwards between realities, before she calmly turned around and greeted politely, even as a demonic stallion squealed and toppled off his hooves at her sudden appearance: “Greetings, Thorn Blackfeather.”
Thorn Blackfeather showed only the slightest surprise as he straightened from his meditation, before he grimaced when Morning Glory smacked the back of his head, growling: “Hold it.”
The sapphire stallion shifted backwards, resuming his stance on his hind legs, his foreleg held up in front of himself and hoof flexed. Morning Glory mirrored him on one side, and Freya was on the other, the Valkyrie cocking an eyebrow before she asked mildly: “And just what is a sorceress of your prestige doing here?”
“Greetings, Queen Freya. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope you don't find my appearance here too unsettling, any of you...” Melinda glanced around the pagoda before she smiled kindly at Burning Desire, who grinned awkwardly as he rolled up to his hooves and bowed his head quickly. “Hello, sir. I sense an interesting residue around both you and your sister... noble lineage, but half-breeds, yes?”
“Would you like a demonstration of this half-breed's heritage?” rumbled Morning Glory threateningly as she dropped forward, before she scowled when Thorn reached out and gently grasped her horn.
After a moment, the Destroyer spat to the side in disgust, then she reared back and resumed her position as Melinda said humbly: “I apologize. I was just discussing with Lady Danzsöngr that I can come across as rude because I am still ingrained in old ways. I will try and be more considerate.”
She paused for a moment, then turned a smile towards Thorn, studying him intently as she continued: “As a matter of fact, it was such a matter that inspired me to come here in the first place, and see what I could offer you, Prince Thorn. Your friends are currently-”
“I don't mean to be rude, Melinda, but I'd prefer not to know what's going on right now with them. I have some difficulties of my own to work out first.” Thorn interrupted gently, and Melinda smiled wider before she bowed her head in agreement. “But if there's anything I can do for you, I'm more than happy to. And you are very welcome to join us. Yes?”
Morning Glory grumbled, but Freya only shrugged amiably and Burning Desire nodded vigorously, blurting: “Yes, yes, most definitely! What a beautiful name you have, Melinda, almost as beautiful as you are! What a splendid mare you are... and I must say, your fine reputation precedes you, too! It's an honor, an absolute honor, to meet you!”
“Now, darling, there's no need to make a fuss. Myths are myths and legends are legends, nothing more.” Melinda answered with a chuckle, before she returned her eyes to Thorn and studied him intently.
He looked back at her calmly, but he felt her, reading into him all the same, so clearly and so deeply, and... “Oh, you poor, sweet colt, the trauma you've suffered... but I see you are at least taking steps forwards, to remedy your problems, and you have good, dear friends and family...”
Melinda paused, then inquired as politely as possible: “Is it true that you and Moonflower are... involved romantically?”
“Yes.” Thorn answered bluntly, and Melinda blushed the slightest bit as she bowed her head to him.
“I am humbled and left in admiration of your forwardness. Please excuse my behavior, dear. It's strange to me.” Melinda paused, then she straightened slightly and smiled kindly before she said softly: “I must say, I am very impressed, as well. Even with your current stress and difficulties, you're still maintaining your energies splendidly. Will you listen to an offer?”
Thorn nodded, looking at her with interest: admittedly, he was worried, anxious, frustrated, but also very curious and almost relieved to see Melinda here. It meant that to some extent or another, in spite of the control collar around her neck, Melinda was still able to act under her own free will. And of course, it wasn't every day that he received offers from legendary witches to learn something that could possibly make him useful again...
“Now, dear, it is I who am delighted and gladdened to have a student. Even if only briefly.” Melinda said kindly, before she sat down and asked: “How long will you be, darling? Oh, I know, it's a silly question to ask, isn't it? I'll just ensure that I last out the night: should we finish early, I'm sure I can make myself useful somewhere else.”
Melinda tilted her head slightly to the side as her horn gave a single gleam, and there was a strange sizzle of energy before she took on a strange, fuzzy transparency, smiling kindly as Freya blinked and Morning Glory scowled. But it was Burning who picked it up first, saying slowly: “You're not... really here anymore, are you?”
“In a manner of speaking I am, but I suppose in the most literal sense I am not, no.” answered the mare politely in muted tones, smiling as she bowed her head as her image fizzled in and out of reality. “I can't simply disregard my duties to Loki, as much as I might like to. So I will attend to those while I leave this, my shadow, here. It is a very useful parlor trick, but little more.”
“Yes, yes, oh of course. Nothing impressive about cross-dimensional illusions at all.” Burning Desire said wryly, before he cocked his head curiously and asked: “Or are you more than that? You seem almost like a simulacra... of sorts.”
“More, and less. 'Shadow' has always been the most appropriate word, I feel.” Melinda replied softly, shrugging a bit before she said gently: “But do not let me interrupt. I can maintain this for as long as necessary.”
“We're almost done.” Thorn answered as he shifted downward, breathing slowly out as he leaned forwards while sliding his foreleg behind himself. Freya and Morning Glory both moved at the same time with him, calm and silent, while Burning Desire only marveled over Melinda.
There was no rush, though, no hurry: Thorn took his time finishing the exercises with the others, and when he finally settled down to all three hooves, Melinda smiled at him before she said softly: “You're quite an interesting pony, Prince Thorn. I see that you're working hard on ensuring that you do not rush your tasks... a difficult thing, I understand, for someone who has likely been trained heavily in the philosophy of do-and-be-done.”
“We call it hurry up and wait.” Thorn answered politely, before he glanced back at Freya and Morning Glory, asking: “Will you excuse me? I will refrain from business as much as possible but I still need to speak to Melinda about a few sensitive matters.”
“Always so thoughtful, boy. We women truly appreciate that.” Freya said ironically, but Thorn didn't so much as look at her until Morning Glory shrugged, which made the Valkyrie smile slightly. “You are getting better.”
“A little.” Thorn gave a brief smile over his shoulder before he turned his eyes back towards Melinda, and she nodded to him.
“Anywhere you wish to go, I am fine with. I should even have enough strength to teleport us a short distance... but not across the continent, of course. That would be too revealing.” Melinda said, and Thorn nodded before he strode calmly towards her, the mare studying him silently before she said softly: “You walk with a grace and strength that befits your proud stature, Prince Thorn. Do not ever let anypony tell you otherwise.”
“I don't.” Thorn answered, and Melinda smiled at him before the stallion asked: “Would you mind walking while we talk? I think you'll enjoy Subterra.”
“It would be my pleasure, dear.” Melinda answered kindly, bowing her head in return, and Thorn gave her a brief smile before he led her out of the pagoda, the shadow of the mare strolling along at his side and remarking: “I see that you've been studying alchemical processes here.”
“We have nothing to do with this. Although we have traded information with Subterra in the past so we could manufacture our own empathy stones: they are very good for stabilizing demons.” Thorn replied, and Melinda chuckled.
“A bit of a misnomer, don't you think, dear? After all, it's not really the demons who need to be 'stabilized.'” Melinda remarked, and Thorn shrugged before she continued: “And I know who your parents are, and that they must have had something to do with this. I know it's a rather personal question, but how is your relationship with them? Do they take an interest in you? Are they kind to you, darling?”
“Of course.” Thorn glanced towards Melinda, before he added quietly: “They're supportive of me, in every way. What do you think of them?”
“Strange, but not so strange, really. In the past, relationships were not so... structured as they are in this day and age. No, that is a bad word for it, but so is 'pure' or even 'suppressed;' it was more that we followed our instincts as much as protocol and procedure.”
“So it was fine for a mare to sleep with a mare, but not stallions?” asked Thorn with a hint of a smile, and Melinda laughed, apparently not caught off guard by the quip.
“Encouraged, even! I do apologize again, dear, I don't mean to... stick a thorn in your hoof.” Melinda gave the slightest of smiles in return as she winked at the stallion, then she said in a softer voice: “Yes. We mares have always been lucky, you know: we are a very equal race, and we always have been. Stallions like to pose and pander to each other as if we mares have always been under hoof, but that is such silly posturing that we all know is far from true. Even if mares have been pressed towards genteel tasks, well... I know that I am not the only legendary witch.”
Thorn nodded briefly as they walked along, before he replied: “I try and avoid thinking in terms of gender politics. It's not productive from any angle.”
“I know. But I'm sure you know as well as I do, politicians hate to be productive. There's nothing to be gained from that.” Melinda answered, and then she smiled softly as they passed by several demons, who all nodded to them courteously, studying them with curiosity. “You can't pretend you aren't thrilled by this, dear. That you don't feel proud that you've been able to play some role in all of this.”
“I don't think we have. All of this was established well before my time: perhaps Decretum has had some role in helping to normalize these relationships, but Subterra was a project of my Móðer's, and what I celebrate is her achievement and the achievements of my heritage.” Thorn answered. “But I won't lie: Decretum emulates many of these concepts, although where I learned them from was... very different.”
“Helheim.” Melinda supplied, and Thorn nodded, unsurprised but curious. But the mare only shrugged before she said softly: “Well, some interests never die, you know. I've always been... dreadfully curious about Helheim. My research always came back to there: what was Helheim? What was Hell? Was it truly a plane of eternal torment? Or was it something more than just... a Tartarus where we tossed away our most undesired undesirables?”
“It is so much more.” Thorn said softly, before he glanced up in surprise as Melinda caught him by the shoulder, squeezing into it slowly as their eyes met: and even through the inconsistency of her shadow-body, Thorn felt the intensity of her strength.
“You hold ten thousand secrets inside you, Thorn Blackfeather. And you keep them so tightly, under lock and key, for which I cannot help but applaud you. Yet all the same, those secrets would make you a target for many others... include me, were I not so polite. And I must admit in past times, I was not as... well-versed in proper etiquette as I am now.”
“Then it's fortunate for me that you are.” Thorn replied evenly, looking back at the mare for a few moments before she smiled in amusement at him, shaking her head slowly.
“Your lack of fear might cost you one day.” Melinda said softly, before her eyes flicked towards his stump of shoulder and she added quietly: “No disrespect intended, of course.”
Thorn only nodded, and then the two looked up, watching as several Nightmares passed by through the air above, the creatures giving curious glances to the ponies below. After a few moments, Melinda smiled briefly, murmuring: “They wrote so many old poems and ballads about me, and about the things I did. But none of them were very right... even if the things I called to my own doorstep might certainly be called nightmares.”
The stallion glanced over at her, and then he asked: “And they're still with you?”
“Always. They're always with me. Even now, I'm not free of them, and I never will be, either.” Melinda paused, then shrugged before she said simply: “It is a good reminder.”
Thorn nodded again, and there was silence for a few moments before Melinda gestured towards the palace in the distance, asking: “May we walk there?”
“Of course.” Thorn gestured politely at her, before he said in the mildest of voices: “I would offer you my leg, but I appear to be a little short.”
“You're terrible, darling.” Melinda said in an amused voice, and then she shook her head as she fell in step beside him, the two walking along for a little while and both only taking in the sights, the sounds, the feeling in the air around them.
Finally, Melinda smiled as they reached the base of the mighty pyramid, asking: “So, Prince Thorn, you never are tempted to use your status to your advantage, even here?”
“Sometimes. But then I remind myself of why I'm here.” Thorn answered, and then he set a hoof on the staircase with a glance to the mare. “Did you want to see the rest?”
“I do.” Melinda said with a smile, and then she watched as the stallion calmly started up the stairs, following after a moment as she murmured: “I certainly am fortunate to have you as my gracious host.”
Thorn only smiled briefly over his shoulder at her: ten minutes later, the two reached the top of the staircase, and Melinda murmured: “My. It's all much more beautiful than I had expected. And this, I suppose... this is Nightmare Moon?”
“The Lady of the Moon, as she's called now. But yes, it is.” Thorn answered with a brief nod, glancing over the massive statue of his... other mother.
Melinda studied it with silent fascination for a few moments, and then she shook her head slowly before murmuring: “She's not a true Nightmare, though... that's a weak word for what she is. Passion, I imagine... similar to the things I called through...”
“By sprig of holly and thorn of oak?” Thorn asked mildly, and Melinda smiled slightly and gently tapped his shoulder, but the stallion only shrugged a bit before he asked: “How did you call the... 'nightmares?'”
“Oh, very simple, Thorn. I simply invited them in: that's all magic is, you know. Making an offer to someone else that they can't refuse.” Melinda replied gently, and Thorn gave a brief smile before the mare turned her eyes back towards the statue, asking: “Would it be possible to meet her? I would dearly like to. Does your mother even realize what she's done, that this is the... apex of night magic?”
“She didn't do it alone. And this was what Nightmare Moon wanted, too.” Thorn replied quietly, and Melinda looked thoughtfully at Thorn, as the stallion smiled briefly over at her. “Nor did she summon the entity herself. Ignominious thought he was culling a spirit from Hell...”
“But he did not realize that the underworld and the beyond were two very different things. He didn't even realize the source that he tapped into.” Melinda chuckled softly, before she shook her head and said quietly: “Often, when we are young... when we have no idea what we are doing, and thus no concept of either... limitations or impossibility... it is then that we weave our greatest spells. We may not know how to speak properly through our magic, but we also... do not fear being rejected. And the things that we speak to often don't know how to say no.”
Thorn nodded slowly, before Melinda said quietly: “Prince Thorn Blackfeather, you can channel... I would estimate, a hundred bæns of energy. Your... dear friend, Moonflower-”
“My partner.” Thorn said, and Melinda smiled and bowed her head.
“Your partner.” she corrected herself, then continued: “I would say that he is capable of channeling upwards of... eight hundred thousand? Perhaps even a million. His potential is untapped and incredible. I doubt he understands it himself.”
“He thinks he does, but he still doesn't. His problem, of course-”
“Is control, yes. Control, and calling that power up.” Melinda gently touched her own chest, murmuring: “Our bodies can only handle a limited amount of energy coursing through them at all times. That is why those who are so blessed in magical prowess become... something a little different. But it is not the silly physical changes that are the greatest, but rather the inner transformation that is the most important. The ability to handle, and channel that energy effectively.”
Melinda smiled over at Thorn, and Thorn nodded slowly before the mare said softly: “Hexes are a different matter entirely. They are not about how powerful you are, but rather about how compelling you are. You are rather good at being an authority, Thorn: you are not intimidating, but merely... well, I do not have a better word than authority. You are respected. Listened-to. Obeyed and adhered. And even though I understand it has been tested in recent times, your will is as iron.”
Melinda studied the stallion for a few moments, and then she smiled slightly and said quietly: “No, I trust you not to abuse this power. And I give it to you, Thorn Blackfeather, perhaps partly in hope that when he is ready for it, Moonflower will be able to take on my teachings. Oh, do not get me wrong. I am honored to have you as my student. But I would be lying if I did not wish that... I could reach out to that child of the moon as well.”
“Child of the moon... fitting.” Thorn said softly, and then he nodded hesitantly before he looked up at the statue of Nightmare Moon, asking: “What did you have in mind, then?”
“Everything.” Melinda said simply, and Thorn frowned as he turned his eyes back towards her, but the mare smiled at him gently. “Oh, Thorn, you're not stupid. All unicorn magic, from the meekest light to the greatest explosion of power, it's all the same. It all starts the same, it's all fueled by the same, and they are silly to divide it up into... schools and classes and types as they do instead of teaching unicorns that... anything is possible. They just have to learn to apply themselves in the same way they do to their own magics.”
Thorn cocked his head, but Melinda only laughed, shaking her own and saying kindly: “Now, dear. If we start arguing about it we'll be here all night and we'll get nothing done. Let's focus back on what we came here for.”
Melinda flicked her horn gently, and an orb appeared in midair, floating silently: Thorn glanced at this, studying it for a moment before he said: “Interesting. It's made of condensed spirit energy, in such a way that standard magic or physical force can't affect it.”
“But a hex applied to it...” Melinda flicked her horn calmly, and the orb shone with a variety of colors before she turned her eyes back to Thorn, smiling softly. “The underlaying art to crafting a hex is a simple one. You are extending an 'offer' or an 'order.' For me, I much prefer to make offers, darling: dress anything up properly, and you can get anyone to accept anything. Orders are much harder: some people, no matter how fiercely you order them to, simply will never listen. For those, you will have to soften your hex into a request.”
“I don't understand.” Thorn said bluntly, looking at Melinda, and the mare smiled at him benevolently before she winked at him.
“You will, dear. You felt how I hexed you before: first, gather your energy, roughly... ten bæns' worth should do. Then you must covert that energy. There will be some loss in this process, dear, especially since you are a beginner, but you need only convert approximately a single bæn for the hex.” Melinda instructed, and Thorn nodded before he closed his eyes, then winced when Melinda gently tapped him on the shoulder. “No. Keep your eyes open at all times. You must look at your target, look into your target, even if it is merely a ball of spirit. That ball has no feelings, but it does have set emotions, dear.”
“Right.” Thorn murmured, staring at the floating ball of spiritual energy before he focused, then took a slow breath, gathering his energies. He shaped them carefully, then focused his magic, grimacing a bit as he muttered: “I've never been very good at redistribution of energy...”
“You're doing fine.” Melinda encouraged, before she added: “The hex we will work on today is the easiest. Simply change the emotions of the sphere, that is all. Shape it as an order. And remember not to focus it through your horn. It must come from you, reaching into it.”
Thorn nodded briefly, and then he took a slow breath before he leaned forwards, trying to focus in the way Melinda had told him to. It was difficult, though, especially with all the emotions twisting through him, all the anger and the hate and the fury and the sadness that was still boiling and roiling inside of him...
“You don't have to let it go, dear. The trick isn't in rising above all those pesky emotions, but in learning to embrace them. Anger manifests outwards purely because we try so hard not to feel it, after all.” Melinda said softly, and Thorn breathed slowly before she said quietly: “Use those emotions, as fuel. Understand them. Understand why. Then use them, let them fuel you, let them sharpen your will and resolve.”
Thorn narrowed his eyes as he focused in on the orb of spirit, his front hoof digging against the stone floor of the pyramid before he gritted his teeth, body flexing as he pushed the magic out-
Nothing happened, and Melinda clicked her tongue before she corrected, gentle but firm: “No, dear. This is where my hexes differ from your unicorn magic. Remember, you are not giving it to them, you are not pushing it towards them: you are ordering them to take it from you. Even more than you giving it to them, they must be the ones to take it from you. Don't you remember the hex?”
Thorn did, nodding once before he lowered his head slightly and murmured: “Alright. I'll try again.”
“Good.” Melinda smiled, before she stepped back and studied Thorn intently as he gathered his energies again: he took less and lost less in the conversion, this time, she noted... but of course, she wouldn't have been so eager to teach if she didn't expect the stallion to be an excellent learner.
Thorn kept his eyes on the target, breathing slowly in and out, feeling his emotions flow through him: as he concentrated his magic, he felt those emotions becoming riled up, felt his focus distorting, especially as he shaped that energy into the hex inside himself. More than that, his mind felt almost foggy, like the energy he was burning off was clustering his brain, making him lose focus and forget what he was supposed to be doing...
No. He remembered. He breathed slowly as he focused that energy into a spell... no, not a spell. A hex wasn't a spell, not in the way he knew it: that was why it was so hard to focus, so difficult to do, in spite of how little magic he was using as his eyes focused tightly on the orb...
Maybe that was the problem.
Thorn tried to lean away, tried to let go. He tried to simply breathe, and kept his focus on the orb as almost a secondary thing, something more out of circumstance than decision. He made himself aloof, even as he stretched out with that hex, but not too far...
He felt it: almost like tendrils of spiritual energy, stretching back, magnetized by the hex. It was hard, not to fling that energy straight at the orb, but to keep it steady, until the other energies accepted it... and then he simply let go.
The orb flashed a deep, low blue, and Melinda politely clapped for him, smiling softly as she murmured: “Excellent.”
“Not excellent. Difficult.” Thorn murmured, lowering his head and shaking it, his skull throbbing with pain, his heart pounding in his chest, the wild emotions twisting through him nearly making tears fill his eyes. And yet...
He reached up automatically, grasping his stump, and it felt dry, almost coarse. He frowned a bit, but Melinda only smiled before she said gently: “It's because those emotions came from a different source than the poison you have been allowing to ruin you for these last few days.”
Thorn looked at her sharply, and Melinda bowed her head as she said softly: “I spoke out of turn, dear, and for that I apologize. But I will not apologize for saying the truth, and something that, from the shame in your eyes, you know also to be true.”
“I do.” Thorn said after a moment, glancing down as he rubbed slowly at his leg, before he murmured: “I am going to do better.”
“I know, dear. You are doing better. Consider this one more tool in your arsenal to help you, because I do indeed care about you and your well-being, and not just because you happen to be the brother of dear Prince Thesis.” Melinda smiled at him kindly, and Thorn rose an eyebrow questioningly. “Well, of course. You're polite, cultured, and you excel with the tools you have... and I would hate to see a carpenter such as yourself let his skills rust because of a few silly follies.”
“Thank you, Melinda. You honor me.” Thorn said honestly after a moment, and Melinda chuckled quietly and waved a hoof dismissively before the stallion rubbed at his head and asked: “So hexing is more a... form than a specific spell, isn't it? I mean-”
“Yes, I understand what you mean, dear. Once you understand the basics, you can shape any effect you like into a hex, benign or malicious.” Melinda answered. “Of course, they call the opposite of a hex an 'enchantment' or a 'charm,' but that isn't actually correct: a hex is a hex because of its nature, not because of its effects.”
“But I suppose the more potent a hex, the harder it is to get someone to accept the 'offer.'” Thorn said softly, and Melinda smiled faintly.
“I wish that were true, dear, because it would have saved me a lot of trouble in the past. But sometimes, you never know who might be silly enough to accept a passing fancy... or who among your friends and enemies might desire, somewhere deep inside them, if only for a moment... to die.” Melinda quieted, then she shook her head and said softly: “I abused my gifts, terribly. Hexes, and Nightmares, and pure magical power... I used them all for the wrong things and the wrong ends.”
“You're trying to stop Loki from making the same mistakes.” Thorn paused for a moment, reading into the shadow of Melinda before he said slowly: “You knew it was never Thokk. You knew it was Loki from the start.”
“I did.” Melinda admitted with a small smile. “Not that it changes anything. Thokk, Loki, the Prime... aren't they all the same? Sad, disappointed little people, all of them looking for love in all the wrong places. All of them trying to find answers to the questions they've been too afraid to ask. I feel sorry for him. Even this, attempting to take on the entire universe, it's all just an extended act of running away.”
She paused, then smiled over at Thorn and continued: “No. I won't join your 'side' of the battle, because there are no real sides, not really. You know that if you need my aid, you need merely call on me... but I think I am more useful at Loki's side. To chastise him when he is cruel, to congratulate him when he is strong, to encourage him when he is smart. This cannot be ended by bloodshed. I think you know that, dear, now don't you?”
Thorn looked down quietly for a moment, then he nodded slowly before murmuring: “I trust you. You're also... testing us, aren't you?”
“I am. I want to see that this Orphanage is not just another immense ploy for power. I want to see that worlds like these...” Melinda gestured around at the beautiful, the magnificent, and the terribly dark Subterra. “Deserve to exist. That they are not merely another cycle of predator-and-prey, where for all the happiness in the air, the ponies are subjugated by the worst possible means: kindness, and love.
“I am many things, Thorn. Very few of those things are what is spoken of in legend.” Melinda smiled at him, kind and tender, and yet so serious, so unflinching, as she said: “I understand that things are the way they are for a reason now, whether or not I want to strive for better, whether or not I would love to see things taken to a better order... but the natural order is sometimes all we have to return to. I don't want to see the Void consume everything: I don't believe that is in anyone's best interests. I don't want to see these realities undone. I believe they exist for a reason. I believe that... more than simply protecting the core worlds, these realities have come into being so that we could have marvels like... like you, and like dearest Cadence, and like that mighty warrior, Brynhild. But these realities have caused such... trouble, too. Look at Helheim, chock-full of demons that wouldn't exist otherwise. Look at how great and far and cruel Hel's reach has become. Look at the gods: how many have lived, how many have died.”
Melinda paused, then smiled in amusement as she added curiously: “Look at you. Not in the slightest as to what I expected.”
“I could say the same.” said an even voice, and Thorn looked up in surprise as a tall figure approached them, striding calmly on two hooves, his white gloved hands laced together in front of himself. There was a strange jaunt in his step, but his ivory eyes were dead serious beneath his spiky blonde mane, a smile lingering on the lips of the horse-headed figure as he said softly: “Melinda, the Sky Witch.”
“Theophilius Carter, the Mad Hatter.” Melinda bowed her head low, then smiled when the Hatter suddenly dropped to his knees and slid forwards, sweeping up one of her hooves to kiss it delicately.
He looked up, remaining serious even as his body seemed to move of its own chaotic accord, flicking a handkerchief out of a pocket of his patchwork suit to begin polishing the hoof he had kissed, even as he said quietly: “Kvasir, at times like this. I've been keeping a close eye on things. Or at least, as close an eye as I can.”
“Yes, I've felt your presence now and then. Loki is very interested in meeting you, you know... although I fear that as the Prime, he has... unpleasant plans for you.” Melinda said delicately, and Kvasir gave a thin smile.
“Lord Kvasir, King of Valhalla.” Thorn bowed low, before he grimaced as Kvasir caught him under the chin and almost yanked his head up, shaking his head shortly.
“No, no, none of that. None of that.” Kvasir said quietly, and then he sighed as he sat back on his haunches, scowling a little as he absently brushed at himself. “I know that Hecate wants to meet with me. I know that your mother, Morgan, has also been looking for me. I need more time, though, and you know that I don't work well on the schedules of others.”
“Yes, Lord Kvasir. But you know I'm currently off duty at the moment. A substitute is standing in as regent and I'm trying to avoid business affairs.” Thorn replied, but Kvasir only smiled wryly at this before he reached up and tapped his own nose with a finger.
“Precisely. That's just why the Hatter wants to meet with you now.” Kvasir answered, and then he shook his head briefly before saying shortly: “But I'll have to keep our time brief, all the same. You know that the Hatter doesn't like to spend very long doing the same thing.”
Thorn sighed a little, but then he nodded briefly before asking finally: “What does the Hatter want to talk about?”
“Not the right question to ask.” Kvasir said softly, and Thorn frowned slightly before Melinda smiled and leaned forwards politely.
“I don't presume to know you, of course, and I don't at all presume that you would want to listen to me or negotiate with me. But I was very curious, Hatter, about all the places you haven't been.” she interrupted, and Kvasir gave a wry smile at this.
“She's good. But I sense you've been around chaos entities before.” Kvasir said with a meditative look over the mare, before he continued, enunciating his words slowly and carefully: “He hasn't been anywhere you haven't been, except for the place where he first came from. And you know he's been to all his favorite places: visiting Alice and the White Queen, and avoiding all the red... and to reiterate, he's been down the rabbit hole, where he first came from.
“And he's been a few of his least favorite places as well. Not because he wants to go there, but because for better or worse, he knows he has to take responsibility.” Kvasir continued, his eyes flicking between Thorn and Melinda. “It's interesting, how your... commander in chief has been in all the best and worst places in this universe during his search. He ran to the beginning, but he seems to be looking for the very end.”
Melinda only chuckled softly, bowing her head before she remarked softly: “Well, I'm sure you know even more about the Prime than I do, and he knows just about as much about us as we do about him. But not quite everything: every time you know everything about chaos...”
“It changes.” finished Thorn, the stallion nodding slowly, and Kvasir snorted dryly.
“You're not half as poetic as your father.” he said, and then he turned his eyes towards Melinda, studying her for a moment before he said quietly: “And you're not half as boring as he expected you to be, either.”
Melinda only shrugged and smiled in her cryptic way, answering cordially: “I don't want to impress anyone, dear. I only do my best to be myself.”
“I know that's a lot harder than it seems.” Kvasir muttered, before he straightened and looked at Thorn, saying shortly: “I can't maintain control for very long, but I can for brief periods. I won't guarantee that I can meet Hecate, but I will... do my best. Even Theophilius can respect the value of a promise.”
“Then promise.” Thorn responded equably, and Kvasir gave another of his thin smiles.
“You're as difficult as your parents.” he said, and Thorn didn't know if that was an insult, a compliment, or some combination of the two. “Very well. You have my promise. Our promise, if you want to be technical about it.”
Kvasir grimaced, then he rubbed slowly at his face before blurting: “A promise is a promise, unless it's made under duress! Then it's merely a contract, and we all know how easily those flimsy things shred!”
Thorn gazed with sympathy at the Mad Hatter, while Melinda chuckled quietly before she said softly: “That is true, my friend. But they can bind their victims oh so tightly as well, can't they?”
“Like snakes! Like... snakes.” Kvasir shivered, then shook himself and sighed, grasping at his top hat and tugging it down around his ears as he muttered: “It's very vexing being insane. I'm not quite sure how anyone does it. I feel myself slipping away and the Hatter taking over... I still don't even see how it's possible that he exists. That a simple mix-up could result in... this.”
“Well, that's exactly it with chaos, isn't it? It's not just what you're absolutely sure of... it's when you're absolutely sure it's not that the opposite tends to hold true.” Melinda murmured, before she asked quietly: “Did you make-believe Gymbr, or did he make-believe you?”
Thorn looked up sharply at this, but Kvasir chuckled dryly before he whispered: “I suppose that would be a point of some contention for those from the Void... but unfortunately, we're both... very real...”
Kvasir clenched his eyes shut, clutching at something beneath his silk shirt, before he gave what was almost a sigh... and then the Mad Hatter popped to his feet, firmly knocking his heels together before Theophilius Carter declared brightly: “Oh my! I'm ever so late for tea, I'm afraid. But lucky me, it looks like I have a few guests right here!”
The Hatter clapped his hands together, gazing between them warmly as Thorn grimaced, but Melinda cut in quickly and courteously: “As much as we would love to attend your tea party, I fear we are both a little underdressed, dear Hatter. By which I mean of course, that we are not dressed at all. That is not very suitable for tea, is it?”
“Nonsense! Tea is an activity that can be done clothed, naked, diligent or blind! You don't have to be just anyone to have tea, you know, and you don't have to make it a party or a panic!” declared the Hatter as he threw his arms wide, and Thorn smiled faintly as he looked up at Theophilius Carter: the madness of the Mad Hatter, the essence of chaos that had twisted Kvasir into its avatar.
“You look sad. Don't look so sad!” Theophilius said almost urgently, as he reached down and gently wiped a thumb under one of Thorn's eyes, making him grimace a bit. “There, isn't that better? A little irritation is good for irrigation. And you are a young flower, aren't you?”
“I'm me.” Thorn shrugged a bit, and then he asked: “Is there any way to speak to Kvasir?”
“Oh, of course! He's always listening.” Theophilius said kindly, tapping firmly on the end of his own snout several times before he clapped his hands together and said gently: “The problem is that you probably want to hear back from him, don't you? And that is not quite as possible... although never impossible, either! Not if you listen just right.”
Theophilius clapped his hands together, and then he flipped gracefully backwards and landed on his hands, grinning widely as he asked brightly: “So do you have time for tea?”
Thorn began to open his mouth, but Melinda reached out and touched his shoulder, saying softly: “There's always time for tea, Thorn Blackfeather.”
Thorn sighed a little, but then he nodded hesitantly, and Theophilius smiled brightly before he glanced back between his arms and mock shuddered at the sight of the statue, floating eerily in the air upside down as he hugged himself tightly. “But not in the sight of that statue! She might come to life and gobble us all up if she smells the sweets and the sultry and the scrumptiousness of our banquet! No, no, away, away, I know just the place to go!”
With that, the Hatter spun violently around and flipped rightside up, landing on one foot before he grinned and rose a hand to snap his fingers, and in a flash, the three were simply gone.