Chapter 50: Legacy.
“Is all well, Miss Lulamoon?” Princess Luna's voice breaks the silence hanging over the chariot ride to Canterlot.
The wind billows past as the chariot cuts through the night, my cloak fluttering against it, though the Princess' ethereal mane is unaffected. Trixie, meanwhile, leans over the side, eyes trailing over the ground below as it whips past at the impressive speed of our bat-pony chauffers. The wonder from her previous chariot ride isn't present this time, her mood a weight that presses down on the atmosphere of the entire chariot.
She breathes deeply. “I'm fine, Princess. Thank you.”
I lock her in a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you're a better liar than I am?” I don't need to see more than the back of her head to call that one out.
“Hmph.” She attempts to huff, but it falls flat. She soon turns and sits normally, letting me get a proper look at her face. Her face is etched with trouble that she attempts to disperse with a sigh. “Fine, I'll talk.” Her eyes turn sidelong as well to meet mine. “Take notes, Dusk. This is how you connect with ponies.” It's intended as a joke, but it lacks her usual punch or delivery.
“Funny.” I quip regardless.
“I thought so.” She nods, turning her head to look up at the stars. She stays silent for a time, but I don't prompt her to start talking. Its clear from the look on her face she's turning the words over in her head, unraveling some complex emotional knot before speaking. After a time, however... “That magician's set used to belong to my grandfather. I'm sure you already know this, Dusk, but after I flunked from Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, my grandfather would tell me tales of traveling stage magicians, awing the lands by using their wits and ingenuity to bend simple spells in unexpected ways, making them appear to be master mages whose feats would sometimes stump even the most magically versed unicorns, at least for a time.”
“Oh!” Princess Luna claps her hooves together, her tone injecting a bit of cheer to the conversation. “We remember such traveling performers in the far past.” Her cheer, however, quickly gives way to a wistful disappointment of her own. “They are... quite a scarcity, in these days. The poor facsimiles in Las Pegasus appear to be all that yet remain of that trade.”
“Yeah, not too many traveling showponies these days.” Trixie agrees with a nod. “But, come to find out, my grandfather was one of those showponies in his youth, and once he saw my interest in it, he pulled out one of his old routines for a birthday party of mine after I'd flunked from Celestia's School as a means of cheering me up. I was enamored by it immediately. His tricks were mesmerizing, really, especially to someone like me whose not exactly great at conventional unicorn magic – and there was more than one I never figured out how to replicate.”
“He sounds like quite the guy.” I comment before I can help myself, though thankfully, it gets her to finally crack a smile.
“He certainly was something else.” She nods. “I took some acting lessons with a sister of mine, and convinced him to pass his art of showponyship down to me. My mother – his daughter – had never been interested in it, nor had her husband once she married, so he had resigned himself to letting it die out before I showed up. Fate's funny like that, I suppose. He taught me the ins and outs, the basics of both the magic and the show, beefed up with those acting lessons to help me recover whenever things went badly. He wouldn't teach me his signature tricks, though.”
The Princess' head tilts curiously. “He sought to pass his legacy down and yet he only taught the fundaments of his art?”
“It was more than the fundamentals, but... I suppose you could say that. He had his reasons, though. He said that every showpony needed to explore the world, develop their own technique based on the sights they see and the ponies they meet.” She pauses for a moment. “The most important part of true showponyship being to leave a mark on the ponies in their audiences that only they can leave.” She laughs soberly. “I really screwed the pooch on that one, huh?”
“You've not done quite that badly for yourself, Miss Lulamoon.” Princess Luna replies, attempting to reassure her.
“It's not that simple.” Trixie shakes her head. “When I was finally ready to set off on my own, grandpa gave me my hat and my cape. I wanted to become great, have my name passed along the winds back to my home so grandpa would know his legacy didn't go to waste. But... I wasn't that fortunate. I journeyed for quite a time on my own. Years. I'd built up some fame, sure, but it wasn't enough.”
She pauses again, and a pregnant silence hangs in the air. The subtext fills itself in at her hesitation to continue, but she eventually finds her voice. “One day, a letter found its way into my hooves from back home. I hadn't gone back there since I started my journey. Not that I had reason to avoid them, I was just taking grandpa's advice to heart. When I came back, I wanted him to be proud, and my reputation to precede me. But, I'm sure you've both figured out what happens next. It wasn't bad, mind you, grandpa was quite old, by then, and wasn't known for being particularly hardy. Just went to sleep one night and...”
Trixie chokes something back and takes another deep breath before continuing. “Do you remember what I told you once, Dusk? How I became The Great and Powerful Trixie, instead of just playing the role? This is around the time that started. I felt lonely and hurt despite the fact I'd always traveled alone anyway. My emotions were raw, so I pushed everyone and everything out. Easier. And then Ponyville. Again. Every tiny failure of The Great and Powerful Trixie to me had become far more than mere wounds against my pride. I just became so consumed by it all...”
She falls into a silent slump, thoughts visibly swirling around her head again. Princess Luna says nothing, and I find myself lacking on words as well, so I simply set a hand against her back, hoping the comforting gesture properly transcends species.
“Thanks.” She says after a moment. “I... I just really messed up. Grandpa gave me his legacy and all I did was shame it.” She sucks in air through her teeth, biting down on her lower lip to keep her composure stable. “I'm sure Twilight Sparkle will do better.”
Its Luna that speaks up first. “You're judge yourself much too harshly, Miss Lulamoon.” Trixie looks up at her, their eyes meeting, Princess Luna giving her a friendly smile as she continues. “The mare you are now is no longer the mare of your past.”
“It's not who I am now.” Trixie shakes her head. “It's not even who other ponies view me as now. It's...” she bites at her lip again, forming the words carefully in her mind before speaking, “I lashed out and tarnished something special to me. I don't think I can ever go back to it, now. Dusk did his best to get me to try, but with each show I did, each day that passed, I realized The Great and Powerful Trixie had become somepony I hated. I hadn't lost the passion of the stage, but I didn't want to be that pony ever again.” She sighs, then turns her gaze skyward. "And now, the longer I'm removed from that identity, the more I feel I've made the right choice."
"I..." the bit of hesitation in the Princess' voice, or possibly the lack of Royal We, causes Trixie to look back down at her, letting their eyes meet, "I understand you clearly, Miss Lulamoon."
The Princess and Trixie both divert their eyes from each other, each finding opposite sides of the chariot increasingly interesting. After a moment, Trixie's head turns up to the sky again, and a realization makes its way into her eyes as she turns back to us, now that she's no longer focused on relating her story to us. “Hey, when did we arrive in Canterlot?”
“About halfway through.” I reply with a shrug, earning a swat of Trixie's hoof against my arm.
“Ass.” She huffs, properly this time.
“We thought the dreamer was a 'human', not a donkey, Miss Lulamoon.” Princess Luna chides her playfully, twisting on the double-meanings of Trixie's words to provoke another huff from her. After a moment, the conversation dies down completely once more, and the Princess takes the opportunity to get us to the matter at hand. “Come, there is much to show and lodgings to be allocated, we must make haste.”
Princess Luna steps from the chariot, and I follow soon after, with Trixie taking up the rear. A quick glance around identifies the building structure of Canterlot's castle, but not from any of the admittedly few angles I'm familiar with it from. A back entrance, maybe? There's quite a bit of bat-based security, and none of the grass or gardens I've come to associate with the castle's courtyards from my previous visit. Instead, a stone path leads up to an imposing set of double doors, set to a wall with no windows or other visible form of entry.
I take this moment to ask something I really should have asked before even getting in the carriage. “So what's your plan, anyway, Princess?” I ask as the Princess uses her magic to push open the massive doors. The bat-ponies from before have assembled into rows on either side of us, giving a salute. “You haven't exactly been forthcoming on the details of what's going on here.”
“You shall see.” She replies with her characteristic vagueness and steps inside. Trixie and I follow soon after. Past the door is a corridor of stone, torches lining the walls for light as we journey deeper.
“Bit spooky for Canterlot, isn't it?” Trixie observes, her place behind me slowly shifting to being in front of me as my condition causes me to grit my teeth and slow my pace somewhat.
“Mayhaps.” The Princess confirms. “However, 'tis but a direct path to the old castle dungeons.”
“Dungeons?” I ask, letting out a nervous laugh, gritting down the accompanying pain. “What're we getting locked up for?”
The Princess giggles. “Nothing, dreamer.” She assures, before turning her head to me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Unless you wish to be bound for something.”
“Yeah, no thanks.” I answer, just a bit too quickly, hoping that particular implication is just a quirk of her archaic vocabulary.
“Only 'no thanks', not 'not interested', Dusk?” Trixie jabs verbally, turning to me with a mischievous grin of her own.
“I think its your turn to shut up, Trixie.”
“Never!” She fires back, a bit of a spring in her step as she increases the distance between us, turns back, and raspberries. At least she's somewhat back to normal.
The hall soon splits into a path forward and a branching stairwell downward, which Luna soon takes, prompting us to follow after. “According to Our Sister, these dungeons were decommissioned many centuries ago.” Princess Luna starts explaining, breaking the silence that'd fallen on us after my trade with Trixie. “As society grew, the older incarceration methods were decreed too inequane.”
“Then why are we going down there?” I ask, partly out of my own self-disgruntlement as I deal with the tribulations of my newest rival – stairs.
“We've... re-purposed them, in a manner of speaking.” Princess Luna clarifies in her own way. That is, not clarifying at all. “Inequinity isn't a cause of concern when housing creatures that lack it.”
She can't be implying what I think she's implying.
Trixie decides to ask the follow-up as the stairs mercifully transition into another hallway, this one lined with many reinforced, metal doors. “What do you mean, Princess?”
“See for yourself.” She says as we stop in front of the first door, which on closer observation has two movable slits in it, one each at pony and alicorn eye-levels. Convenient, in my case, as Princess Luna's horn glows, pulling back both slits. Metal bars block the view-ports from being completely obstructed, and inside...
Inside, is a writhing, furry, blue mass. Its exact form is hard to discern at first glance, bound in a series of thick, metal rings that hold its limbs tight to its body and what appears to be its mouth shut. Piercing eyes, filled with instinctual concept, peer back at me as I finally begin to comprehend its form. Four feline legs are pressed up against its body in the rings, as well as a tail, and certain... less natural looking growths.
“No way...” Trixie trails off, stepping away from the pony-level view-port.
Its the Jenova-infected chupacabra from the train. My attention snaps to Princess Luna, not even noticing I've dropped the box of clothing Rarity gave me until it hits the floor with a thud. “Are you stupid or something? This thing should be dead, not sitting in a cell.” I can feel my disbelief boiling over at what I've just seen, and its more than enough for me to drop the respectful pretense that Luna's title of 'Princess' might otherwise afford her.
“Not at all, dreamer.” She shakes her head, taking the bluntness of my outburst in stride. “We kept specimens so that We might analyze the parasite for points of weakness. Now, We continue to keep them so that We may find a way to reverse the path of the parasite and potentially cure what ails you. It is the minimal debt of service owed you by Equestria.”
“Well, I don't want it!” I snap back. “What if one of these things gets out somehow? I've some chest pain and my body's weaker. Big deal! I can live with it, if it means getting rid of the rest of Jenova's traces.”
“Their escape won't be an issue.” She replies, turning from viewing into the cell to face me. “Upon the death of the primary creature, the remaining infected creatures seem to have regained their initial instincts upon being freed from the central consciousness. The creature in that cage, mentally speaking, is no different from any normal chupacabra, as far as all tests indicate. Even if it should escape, reclamation would be but a simple procedure. Additionally...” She turns her full body to me now, face serious. “Consider, dreamer, that you are only but perceiving your predicament in one direction.”
“...What's that supposed to mean?” I turn the statement over in my head, not having any real clue what she's talking about.
“You view it as the parasite's infliction weakening your body as its primary goal, yes?” I nod, and she continues. “That is only but one way to view its course, however. It is possible the creature, Jenova's, infection, could have any number of aims. Simple death of the host is one, but t'was a cunning and resourceful creature. Such a petty aim in its parting affliction seems a grave underestimation of its intent and ability.”
“Just tell me what you're getting at, already.”
“It is equally possible your body is weakening because it is fighting against the parasite's infection to the limits of its ability, and that the parasite's goals within you deal in its self-preservation.” She looks into the cell, then back to me. “Were We a creature of its capability, it is surely an option We would consider, at least, if at all possible. What would make yourself a suitable host for such a thing over others We are unsure of, however.”
“Self-preservation?” The thought strikes me, but it – and her logical train – make some form of sense. All those lovely experiments Hojo subjected me to a world away would make my body hardier for such a thing, if nothing else.
“Tis but a theory.” She says with a nod. “But it is why We cannot simply comply with your wish. Once We ascertain the true nature of your ailment, mayhaps, but until that time... observation is needed.”
I let out a single, sarcastic laugh. “I guess I am getting locked up after all, huh?”
“Now, hold on!” Trixie cuts in, hoof pointed accusatorily at the Princess. “You said you had a solution to all this! Then we come here, and you've got who-knows how many of these things down here in a freak-show lockup, and you've yet to say a single thing about the entire premise you brought us here on!”
“Ah...” It's the Princess considering her words carefully this time. “Don't believe We have brought you here under false pretense. While We have yet to fully purge the creature from a host, it has proven receptive to magical treatment." She moves her gaze from Trixie to myself. "Upon the morning 'morrow, those We've assigned to this cause will attempt to impede its progress in infecting you further, dreamer.”
“Right...” My voice trails as I begin to wonder just how many of these things she's captured. Looking down the hall, there are quite a number of cells, so I'm left to wonder just how thorough she's been.
“Shall we leave this dungeon?” The Princess asks now that both Trixie and I's questions have died down. “We can have a member of our guard escort you to the quarters We've prepared for your arrival.” Without waiting for our answer, she turns and begins leading us back up the stairs, the way we came. Trixie helps me collect up the box I dropped earlier and we make to follow her.
One trip up the stairs, and down the hallway we bypassed earlier, and through another set of massive double-doors, and we're finally in a more recognizable part of the castle. There are bat-pony guards for this door as well, ensuring that no one can wander into the old dungeon area that Luna's re-purposed from inside the castle, either. A quick look around at all the moon-based upholstery gives me the hint that we're in her private wing of the castle. Nice and direct path, at least. From here, she passes us over to one of her Night Guard, a rather prickly stallion who responds to Trixie's few attempts to be sociable with curt answers, or none at all.
Thankfully, he leads us a stairs-free path down one hallway to our left, then another to our right, before finally stopping us in front of a door with an ornate, midnight-blue trim. He hoofs it open, then beckons us to enter. Inside is a rather nice change from the last time I stayed in Canterlot. Instead of a spartan hospital room, it's some kind of guest room, decorated in Princess Luna's personal colors, with a wall-sized window on the far side. Inside the room itself are a pair of ornate bureaus with a matching, pony-sized mirror, a door that I imagine branches into either a washroom or a closet of some kind, but most notably to me – a pair of unusually large beds, that I can only imagine are meant for non-pony dignitaries. I suppose I'll be able to sleeping on a bed where my feet don't dangle off the foot onto the positives of this trip, if nothing else.
From the doorway, our stallion guide speaks in a deep, gravely voice. “Princess Luna has instructed me to inform you that you may venture anywhere you like upon palace grounds during your stay. If you need anything, there shall always be a pony stationed outside. Please, enjoy your stay.”
He gives us a nod, and before either of us can reply, he's out the door, shutting it behind him. We make our way over to the pair of beds, Trixie quickly claiming the one closest to the window and jumping up onto it. I, meanwhile, gently set the Buster Sword across the tops of one of the bureaus and my box of clothes atop that, before finally sitting on the remaining bed's edge. Its... quite soft. Spare no expense when you're royalty, I suppose.
“So...” I start, turning to Trixie, but she cuts me off immediately.
“When do we bust out of here?” She asks, flopping down on the bed and turning to me. “I know you're planning it.”
“I dunno.” I lay back onto the bed myself, placing my hands behind my head. “The beds are nice. I'm thinking about staying.”
“Sure you are.” She quips back, laying flat against the bed.
“I at least want to see what she has in mind, first.” I reply after a moment. “This situation is getting really sketchy but I'm still willing to give her a bit of the benefit of the doubt. There's always the chance her doctors or whatever can actually help.” I pause a second before continuing. “Besides, she does have a point in us not knowing what this infection Jenova left me with is actually doing, aside from most likely killing me.”
She sighs. “I guess so.”
“Hey.” I call over to her, curiosity getting the better of me before I can stop it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” She replies, now rolled onto her back and pawing at the air absentmindedly with her front hooves.
“That story about your grandfather... that's the memory you passed on to Twilight so she could teach you that spell, isn't it?”
Her hooves stop pawing the air, her face becoming inscrutable. She lets the silence hang in the air a bit before replying. “So what if it is?”
This time, I let the silence hang. I'd asked, but I hadn't really thought of what to say if she'd said yes. Though, I suppose there's really only one thing to be said. “Thank you.”
She resumes pawing at the air. “Yeah, yeah.”