Chapter 51: It's Weak to What, Now?
I awake suddenly, body shivering despite the heavy blanket currently wrapped around me. My face is covered in sweat, and I need to focus to regain control of my labored breathing. It takes me a minute to realize I'm clutching the blanket tightly, and a bit more than that for my mind to stop racing and finally let me get a grasp of my surroundings. Right... Canterlot. The guest room that Princess Luna had set aside for myself and Trixie.
“Hey, you alright?” A tired voice asks from the bed to my left, punctuating the question with a drawn-out yawn. “You've been freaking out for the last thirty or so minutes now. Nightmare?”
I collapse back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling as a soft glow of sunlight emanates from behind the room's massive curtain, enough to indicate the coming of the morning without any of it seeping into the room. I'm not surprised that Luna's personal wing would be on the west side to avoid pesky sunrises as she tries sleeping. Once I've got myself fully calmed, I finally reply. “Sure feels like it.”
“Feels like it?” I can hear rustling from her bed. “You don't remember?”
“Weird for me, I know.” I finally pull myself up into a sitting position with a wince. “Maybe that's a good sign, though.” I turn my head to face her, finding her rolled on her stomach, head up and facing me, eyes half-drooped with tiredness.
She lets out another, short yawn, covering her mouth with her hoof. “What do you mean by that?”
I fling my legs over the side, sitting on the edge of the bed. It must still be pretty early. “If I can't remember it, that must mean no weird space aliens or pony princesses were involved, which just makes it any old nightmare, right?”
“I suppose so.” Trixie replies in a half-mumble. “Now, Trixie requires the rest of her beauty sleep... good night...” And, with a plop back on to her side, head meeting pillow, the beast slumbers once more.
I shake my head clear of the remnants of sleep, knowing full well after how I woke up that following Trixie's lead isn't a thing that's happening. Deciding to make the best of the current situation, I decide to head to the washroom, which, like the beds, has a manner of upscaling that confirms to me this room is definitely for some sort of inter-species dignitary normally. Not only do I get to sleep on a bed where my feet don't dangle off the end – I get to wash in a room not made for a creature half my size. A miracle of life, truly.
A miracle soon ruined when I pull off my shirt to see the mess of bandages along my chest and around my left arm. Without a new set, I can't wash while wearing them, and I'm not sure if washing without them is safe given the nature of what they're covering. I resign myself to simply washing around them the best I'm able, and see what I can do about that situation later.
Once I finish, I return to the main room to indulge in another of my newfound appreciations for simple pleasures – a clean set of clothes via Rarity. Folding the old set and placing it aside to wash later, I fish into the box and pull out a new set of clothes. Visually, they look identical to my original set – though mercifully, this second shirt is lacking the decal-work Rarity put into the previous one. Once I get them on, however, the difference is made clear. While my original set is of a coarse, sturdy material, the sets crafted by Rarity are soft, designed with comfort in mind instead of durability, and right now that's a change I can appreciate.
Who knew the simple pleasures could be so nice?
I take a moment to flop back on the bed and enjoy said simple pleasures. After that, though, it's time to get moving. I strap on my boots, pull on my gloves, and soon my armor is all in place. I pull my cloak over myself and decide it better to leave the Buster Sword where it lay for now. It'd be quite awkward to carry it around the castle halls, especially without a proper sheathe. Not that I should need it, anyway. I take a final look back at Trixie, whose now got a pillow clutched between her hooves, pressed up against her chest, back in what appears to be a restful sleep. I should be back before she wakes up. One cowboy hat and drawn hood later, and I'm heading for the door.
Outside, I pass the promised guard next to our room with a silent nod. The stoic stallion from last night has been replaced with a mare that returns my nod with a respectful salute. It's a bit surprising to see one of the bat-ponies at this hour, but I assume I've caught her a bit before the change of shift. Either that, or Luna's giving us twenty-four hour bat-protection. We'll see, I suppose. Remembering the path from last night, I take a right turn from our door and head down the hall, taking the first left into the branching hallway. I'm not sure if Luna's guards will let me do what I have in mind, but I'm going to try. I want a better look at the things she's keeping in that dungeon, one way or another, for my own curiosity if nothing else.
One left later and I can see the large doors we entered through the night previous, with a bat-pony guard to either side. Not surprising, as I'm sure these are most definitely staffed by bat-ponies at all times. It doesn't seem within Luna's style of leadership to delegate this sort of responsibility to outside her personal guard at any point. Hopefully, however, bat-ponies might actually make my job easier over the traditional guards I'm used to seeing around Canterlot in the daylight hours, as I enact Plan A – striding up to the door like I own the place.
“No entry.” The guard on the left says flatly as the two cross a pair of spears held in their hooves, blocking the door. His voice is stern and uncompromising. There goes Plan A. Time for Plan B.
“Why not?” I ask, letting my gaze drift between them. “My protégé and I were brought here personally by Princess Luna and shown this facility just last night."
“No entry.” The same guard repeats. “This area is under strict orders to only allow access to those escorted by Princess Luna herself or those on the approved shortlist.”
“Getting a personal walk-through from the Princess herself doesn't put me on the shortlist?” I ask, trying to see what leeway I can use to leverage them into letting me by.
“No.” The other guard replies this time. His voice is surprisingly high-pitched and nasally. No wonder the other guy does most of the talking. “Princess Luna putting you on the shortlist puts you on the shortlist.” The stallion then pulls out a rolled parchment, unfurling it and reading it to himself. “And as far as our most up-to-date shortlist is concerned, there have been no new additions within the previous two nights.”
I decide to push my luck, going for the longshot. “And what if my name's already on there?”
The guard with the list raises an eyebrow. “Name?”
“Cloud.” I reply, remembering that the guard that read her summons at Golden Oak referred to me simply as 'Cloud', so if my name actually is on there, that's most likely how its been noted.
“Nope. No one with 'Cloud' in their name is on the list.” The guard rolls the scroll up and places it back under his armor. “No entry.”
Plan B is a bust. I decide to go for a longer-shot with Plan C as I pull back my cloak enough to expose my infected left arm, holding it up to the two guards. “I'm the whole reason she's still keeping the stuff down there alive and I really can't even go down and look at it?”
“Sorry.” Its the stern guard speaking again. “No entry. No exceptions. Princess Luna makes the rules, we just enforce them.”
“Right.” I decide to cut my losses, turning back the way I came, giving the two guards a wave over my shoulder as I head back. “I'll be sure to lodge a complaint to whichever nimrod incorrectly put 'anywhere on the palace grounds' on my permission slip!”
On the walk back, I consider plans on how to get around the security, since simply asking nicely isn't going to get the job done. Hit it until it stops moving is off the table as well, for obvious reasons, so this is getting complicated. Maybe I can have Trixie make a distraction? Or, the more logical part of my brain says, I could just ask Princess Luna to give me permission. It's not like I'm suspecting her of hiding something down there. I simply want to see the extent of what she's been up to, especially after it she seemed to rush us away after showing us the bare bones of the operation last night.
But, it's Princess Luna. She's... vague at times, most times even, sure. I've even admitted to myself I don't think she's hiding something, so why do I feel so paranoid about it? Old habits die hard, I guess. But, on the other hand, if she has nothing to hide, why aren't Trixie and I on the shortlist the guard mentioned? It's possible she simply forgot or didn't think either of us would be interested in heading down there a second time, but at the same time...
It's a bridge I'll have to cross when I get there.
I give the mare standing guard at our room another nod as I return, entering to find both beds empty this time, the curtain drawn open. Looks like Trixie woke up in the time I was gone, and the sound of running water from the washroom tells me exactly what she's up to. The different parts of her coat ensemble lay with care on her bed, the bangle of Materia I'd given her resting beside them.
I flop onto the bed, relaxing and staring at the ceiling until I hear the water from the other room cut out. I turn my head to the washroom door in time to see it open, the expected occupant exiting with her mane wrapped up in a towel. “So, where'd you head off to?” She asks as we catch eyes and she makes her way over to her bed.
“You know, just a bit of poking around.” I reply, waving a hand in the air nonchalantly. “Wanted to see if I could somehow get back in that dungeon Princess Luna showed us last night so I could poke around. Wanted to see what kind of crazy critters she has in her petting zoo.”
She lets out a single, small laugh as she reaches her bed and tosses her shirt across her back. “I'm guessing that went about as well as not, considering you're here and not down there.”
“You'd be correct.”
She gets her forehooves into the shirt with a surprising deftness, then closes the buttons along the shirt with her hooves without any of the problems I remember her having previously. Did she practice buttons when no one was looking? Now there's an amusing mental image. “What made you do that, anyway? Decided you don't trust Princess Luna all that much, after all?”
“I'm not sure.” I answer honestly. “Part of me thinks I'm just being paranoid. That tends to happen with me when dealing with people who put Jenova-infected creatures in cells and hide them away from everyone. I can't imagine why.”
“Yeah.” Trixie rolls her eyes as she tosses her coat across her back next. “No clue why, there.”
“Careful with that cynicism.” I admonish her. “You'll turn into me, at this rate. And that'd just be terrible.”
She looks up at me and smirks as she buttons up the coat. “I suppose I could go back to full-time third-pony egotism, if you prefer.”
“...On second thought, keep the cynicism. Consider it an early birthday gift.”
“I knew you'd see things my way!” Her smirk turns into a full on grin as she walks back to the washroom with a skip, but turns and pokes her head out at the last moment. “But, sadly for you, I'm keeping both!”
A few minutes later, she exits the washroom again, mane now in its usual, groomed condition. Surprisingly quick, all things considered. I'd pegged her as the type to spend god-awful amounts of time on it. Either it just easily shapes into the way she likes wearing it or she's a hair wizard. On second thought, hair wizard is probably something that actually exists in this weird place, so nevermind.
My bed suddenly squeaks down, a new, pony-shaped weight on the mattress as she walks over to me. In her mouth is the last remaining piece of her ensemble – the bow tie. She stands over me, eyes looking down her snout to meet mine, confident smirk upturning the edges of her mouth.
“Really?” I ask.
She transitions herself from her smirk to a pout.
“You still haven't figured out how to tie this yourself?”
The pout transitions in a beg, complete with wide, pleading eyes.
“Fine.” I reach up, grabbing the bow tie as she sits next to me, beaming in victory as I pull myself into a sitting position of my own and start to secure the tie around her neck. “One of these days, you're going to have to learn to tie this thing for yourself, you know.”
“Maybe!” She replies. “But that is a bridge that I shall cross when it presents itself.” She gives me a knowing look before continuing. “For now, pamper Trixie! It's what she keeps you around for, after all!”
“Sure it is.” I reply as I finish fastening the tie.
“We still have a guard out there?” Trixie asks, changing the subject.
“Uh... yeah.” I reply, a bit confused.
“Good!” She jumps down from the bed, heading for the door. “I'm gonna bug them about getting that testing Princess Luna was talking about started. Might as well get it over with now before we start fueling our conspiracy theories too heavily.”
Point taken.
She cracks the door open, poking her head out, and I can hear the sounds of conversation on the other side of the door even if I can't hear the words being said. After a bit, she steps back and turns to face me. “Hey Dusk, get up! He says we can head up to the infirmary ward to meet the specialist or whatever that Princess Luna is sticking you with, and get breakfast once we're there.”
He? I guess that poor mare finally got her shift-change.
“Let's get going!”
“Yeah, yeah.” I push myself up from the bed and survey the room, deciding to grab my trusty Buster Sword this time before heading off.
“You're... really gonna lug that around and freak out pretty much the entire castle, aren't you?” She asks, eyebrow raised.
“Totally.” I confirm as I adjust it in my grip, holding it in a reverse-grip where the blade points behind me, blunt-side to the ground to minimize any chances of me damaging government property. That's always a mess to deal with, after all.
Almost as much of a mess to deal with as government employees. “We can't allow you to carry weapons freely inside the castle, sir.” This new stallion guard states as Trixie and I leave the room. He's a bat-pony like the rest, confirming that our guard is also going to be twenty-four hour bats.
“Shining Armor said that last time I was here.” I reply, smirking from behind my cloak's hood despite the fact the stallion can't see it. “I ended up winning that argument, so lets just skip this one and get going.”
He looks from me, to my sword, to Trixie, and back to me, then shrugs and turns to lead us forward, seemingly far more resigned to let the argument fall than his door-guarding counterparts. I'm not complaining. Too bad the other guards weren't so cooperative, though.
He starts by leading us along the path I've started becoming familiar with – right from the room, then left turn, connect into one of the larger hub-rooms of this wing of the castle, that also branches into that dungeon area. From here, however, we swing another left, branching instead into a massive hall with an arched ceiling, ornate pillars trailing down in support every few steps.
“So,” Trixie cuts into my thoughts, pulling me away from admiring the architecture, “nervous about your check-up, Duskie?” She asks, head over her shoulder and tossing me a mischievous, half-lidded look with the grin to match.
“Maybe.” I reply, catching her off-guard with my forwardness.
Her eyebrow raises, then she shrugs as she lets her pace slow slightly to walk beside me. “Suppose that's fair. It's not like we know what kind of freakish experiments they intend to put you through, after all!”
“Right, because that makes me feel loads better.”
“But, seriously,” the mischief cuts away, “what's to be worried about? You're the one who wanted to agree to this in the first place, remember?”
I shrug. “Call it a side-effect of my newfound vulnerability.”
“Sure.” She propels herself slightly in front of me, a playful skip in her step as she looks back over her shoulder. “Let's.”
It doesn't take much longer for the guard to escort us to... wherever we've ended up in this maze of a castle. Any bearings I might've been developing got lost with my conversation with Trixie, but we can't be that far out from where we started. We now stand in front of a nondescript door, easily replaced by any other door that I can surmise from this area as I look up and down the hall. Princess Luna's medical wing, most likely. The guard pushes the door open and motions us inside, to find a room not all that different from the one I was laid up in last time I came here. Window, chair, stand, bed, and nothing else, a spartan room with spartan furniture.
“Please, wait here.” Our escort says with a nod as he closes the door behind us.
I decide to sit in the chair instead of on the bed, deciding the back support is preferable to the softness, setting the Buster Sword down beside me. Trixie takes the initiative to claim said bed for herself, sitting on the edge closest to me.
“You know.” I start, looking at Trixie from under my hood.
“No, Dusk, I don't know.” She replies, locking eyes with me as a smirk slowly spreads across her muzzle.
“Really?” I shake my head. “That's the kind of awful joke I'd expect Twilight to use on Spike to get him to stop using slang.”
She shrugs. “I guess I was just hanging around Twimom a bit too long, huh?”
“Maybe.” I lean back in my seat, back pressing against the wall. “I was just wondering why they dragged us all the way out here instead of just sending whoever it is right to our guest room. I'd figured Princess Luna would want to keep things as low-key as possible.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Trixie shakes her head. “Professionalism, dear Dusk. We are still well within Princess Luna's personal quarters as far as the castle is concerned, and there is a certain expectations for one's private quarters to be, well, private.”
“You say that, and yet we're the guests of Princess Privacy Invasion herself, remember?” I remind her. "She doesn't seem to even know what that word means, half the time."
“Ah.” She sucks air through her teeth. “Point taken.”
At that, the door handle jiggles, catching both our attentions as it swings open to reveal... pink. A familiar pink. One with horns, wings, and a three-tone mane, and a height only matched from normal ponies by the likes of Shining Armor. “Ah, welcome! Doctor Cadenza is in today!”
I raise an eyebrow, perplexed. “Okay, gonna be honest, this isn't close to what I was expecting today to go like.”
“Princess Cadance!” Trixie enters an immediate, reflexive bow. While she seemed more comfortable with Princess Luna, it seems old habits die hard with the other members of royalty.
“Please, Trixie, I said last time, just call me Cadance.” Our new arrival says with a smile, causing Trixie to raise from her bow.
“Oh... right. My apologies, Cadance.” Trixie nods. “But, what are you doing here? We were expecting... well... anything else, really.”
“Weird, right?” Cadance replies, giggling as she makes her way over to us, door now shut behind her. “Aunty Luna caught me up on all the weird stuff that's been going in this adorable fit of frustration. She showed me those nasty looking creatures she has, and how she was trying to get the thing infecting them out somehow. She said they showed receptiveness to magic but not enough to actually change anything. I'm not particularly good with my magic, but after explaining everything, aunty asked me to try seeing if I could do anything, and I decided to humor her.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Turns out, whatever the thing is, it responds strongest to Love Magic, of all things, so now I'm on the case, for bettter or worse." She winks. "Besides, I kind of owe you ponies one for taking care of my Shiny for me.”
“Love Magic?” Trixie asks the question faster than I can.
“Well, don't you know?” She glances to Trixie. “I am the Princess of Love, after all. Kind of has a bit of an influence on how my magic affects things, or so it seems.”
“Princess of Love?” I tag with Trixie on the question-asking. “I get the whole Princess of the Day and Princess of the Night thing given how everything works around here, but what purpose does the Princess of Love serve?”
“Well, you know,” she waves a hoof dismissively, “help ponies with their relationships, either realizing or holding onto their feelings. I'm technically supposed to deal in far more than that, helping struggling ponies find and build their familial and platonic bonds as well as their romantic ones, but for some reason, I always get pigeonholed into doing that last one and never any of the other ones. I can't for the life of me figure out why.”
“So basically, you just kind of go around and... spread love, and stuff?” Trixie asks, head tilting. “I didn't think we'd need an entire Princess for something like that.”
“You'd think!” Cadance gives a large smile, before leaning in to Trixie. “Then again, a few birdies have told me that you might be in need of my more classical services in addition to the one I'm here for.”
I whistle loudly. “Not interested.”
Trixie smacks a hoof against her forehead. “And I thought we'd finally gotten over ponies implying that...”
Cadance giggles. “Relax, its just a joke. Though, if you ever do need my services-”
“Can we please, just, not?” I cut in, trying to pull this conversation literally anywhere else. To help further this objective, I pull my left arm out of my cloak, flexing it in front of me and properly showing off the visible signs of Jenova's infection. “Besides, if you can actually do something about this, I'd like to handle that before anything else.”
“Ah, right, that's why I'm here, isn't it?” She asks, turning back to me and examining my arm. Her eyes run up and down it as she takes in the details of my splotchy doom. “This looks really... different... is this really the same creature's doing?”
“Sadly.” I confirm for her.
“Right, well.” She gulps. After a moment, her horn glows. Her voice's timber is the exact opposite of what might be described as confident. “Well, here goes, um, something, hopefully, everypony.”
It's at that moment I realize – I'm now in the care of someone who might as well be wearing a sign that says 'I have no idea what I'm doing', and my support network is Trixie.
I'm so screwed.