//------------------------------// // Chapter 36 // Story: The Perilous Gestation of Swans // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Powerful shudders of revulsion felt as though they would tear Gosling limb from limb. The potion? Indescribable. He could feel things slithering beneath the flesh of his wings as bowling balls bounced together inside of his guts. Eyes wide, teeth bared, Gosling was forced to endure the most unpleasant of sensations, and he reminded himself that this was to get his wings back. The contents of his stomach boiled back up into his mouth, and he was forced to swallow, because he had to keep the potion inside of him for it to work. “This tastes like ass!” He managed to spit out the words and then felt the contents of his stomach burning the back of his tongue. “How many asses have you tasted?” Luna asked while she stood near, her head tilted off to one side in concern as water dripped from her body down upon the floor. In between gags of revulsion, he replied, “Just one.” Then, he was overtaken by a fit of coughing. With a serene calm, Luna turned to face her sister, who remained in the immense bathing basin. “Sister,” she said in a deadpan constructed of pure, dry snark, “wash more. Swamp ass does not become thee.” “This is coming from She of the Deadly Downdraft.” Luna’s cheeks puffed out and her lips puckered into an angry pout. Gosling meanwhile, was consumed by a terrible coughing fit, and he staggered around while trying to get much needed air into his lungs. His naked, featherless wings waved about as he flapped, and curious bulges could be seen moving beneath the pale pink flesh. One of his flailing wings clipped Luna in the head, sent her sprawling, and then Luna slipped in a puddle of soapy water. Being an alicorn of immense grace, Luna scrambled to regain her balance—she flapped liked a madpony, with much sound and a few lost feathers falling—while Kibitz stood watching with a calm expression. Suffering total failure, Luna tumbled into the bath with a splash as well as an indignant hoot and the resulting lunar tsunami smacked Celestia in the face. “Majestic,” Kibitz deadpanned while Luna thrashed in the water and Celestia began spitting out bubbles. When Gosling drew too close, the stuffy, calm unicorn sidestepped and fell back to a safer location. Somehow, Kibitz was still dry. “The things we do to maintain the illusion of dignity for the sake of the Empire.” “Just think, Kibitz”—Celestia was forced to pause so that she could belch out a blast of soap bubbles and she somehow did so while maintaining her serious mien—“without us, the world would most certainly end. We are all that stands between what is good and total, absolute destruction.” “I am so filled with hope by your statement that I fear it may come squirting out of my ears,” Kibitz replied while his mustache trembled. “Certainly, something is going to come squirting out of somewhere should total, absolute destruction come along.” The first pinfeathers tore through Gosling’s flesh and bright droplets of scarlet trickled along his naked wings, forming glistening ribbons. Growing in new feathers was painful to begin with, and Gosling was now growing in all of his new feathers at once. Pale white sheaths pierced thin, fragile skin as they tore their way free. Some of the sheaths were whole inches long and quite thick. Foul smelling sweat now poured from Gosling’s pores, and it felt as though every inch of his skin was burning from within. The white sheaths of his future feathers gleamed like maniacal misplaced teeth that grew from out of his wings. His teeth were bared in a fierce grimace of pain, and he snorted with each breath he took. Down in the water, Luna waited, her front hooves resting upon the edge of the basin, and her chin rested upon them. Celestia had regained her composure and she too watched as the transformation took place. Magic cures and restorations existed, and while they were beneficial, they were seldom gentle or pleasant. Some of the sheaths began to crumble; flecks of white swirled down to the floor like snowflakes, revealing the feathers within. Primaries of exceptional length were now present, but the feathers had not yet expanded into their proper shape. Radiating an intense aura of utter calm, Kibitz pulled a styptic pencil from his stylish dark purple crushed velvet frock coat. Raising an eyebrow, his mustache quivering with each shallow breath, he waited for the transformation to finish so that he could begin his work to staunch the flow of blood. “Whenever you are ready, Your Majesty,” the old, dignified unicorn said to Gosling while he stood ready. “I’ll not have you bleeding out on my watch, that’s for certain.” Just when Gosling thought he couldn’t bear another moment, it all took a turn for the worse… Tossing her head about, Luna did nothing to hide her worry. Things hadn’t gone well; Celestia had said that nopony had taken the sheer size of Gosling’s new wings into account. Growing a few feathers on a short, stubby pegasus wing wasn’t too terrible—as these things go—but Gosling no longer had short, stubby pegasus wings. The sheer number of feathers that had grown in was astounding, and Luna was already curious about how this would affect his magical physiology. With a tender touch, she worked to pull and pluck away the remains of many sheaths, though she was mindful of his many fresh new pinfeathers, which were filled with blood. Over time, each feather would transform, and the blood would only be found in the base of the shaft; Gosling was at a real risk to suddenly start bleeding if something damaged his newly grown feathers. Every single pinfeather was sensitive, and disturbing them too much would cause agonising pain. Growing in one or two pinfeathers was painful, and at the moment, Gosling was nothing but pinfeathers. “Drink this, Gosling,” Celestia commanded as she pressed a wineglass to his lips. Inside there was something thick, syrupy, something that was a bold red, and it clung to the sides of the glass. “It’s cherry cordial, mixed with a few drops of poppy tincture.” Gosling’s response was slurred from pain as the glass was pressed to his lips. “I don’t like poppy juice.” “I assure you, there is very little in there. The ninety-six proof cherry liquor will be the real heavy hitter.” When Gosling’s lips parted, Celestia poured the drink down his gullet, and Luna found that she was quite surprised by how well he handled himself. He shuddered, made faces, blinked his eyes a few times as tears streamed down his cheeks, and then went still. Luna’s eyes stung from the scent of the hard alcohol and she watched as her sister poured more cherry cordial from the bottle. This glass she drank herself, and Luna raised one hopeful eyebrow. It had been a long, long time since Celestia had seen Luna this concerned about anything. Luna was exhausted, by the looks of it, but wasn’t yawning. Her bleary eyes had vivid red spiderwebs in them and remained narrowed, almost squinty. A most unbecoming scowl was plastered onto Luna’s face as she paced the length of the room, and Celestia wished that Luna would sit down, because watching her go to and fro made Celestia want to pace as well. Did she love him? Celestia hoped so. Nothing would be better than a return to the old ways, back when they were happy and trustful with one another. Sure, they didn’t have much in the way of individuality back in those days—being considered a single, glorious being with two bodies—but Celestia honestly didn’t mind such associations. Now that she was a little older, a little wiser, and had finally pulled her own horned head out of her nethers, it was Celestia’s most sincere hope that an official return of the Royal We would instil a much needed sense of equality in Luna, so that her sister would need not feel herself the lesser of the two of them. If they could just bond over a shared interest—Gosling in this instance—Celestia was certain that Luna could be healed… restored. It was no longer a secret that Luna’s magic had been waning for a time—in fact, it had been downright wonky and there was the matter that Luna had fallen so easily to a darkness elemental. The scales of balance were still off, and this was quite alarming, given the sheer number of enemies that sought to devour Equestria. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she might be getting a little too old, and maybe just a bit set in her ways. It felt that way sometimes, as Twilight and Cadance had more successes in the public eye. They were more ‘in touch’ with modern ponies. Then again… a thousand years from now and Cadance might not appear to be so young and hip. As for Twilight… The pacing of her blue and moody sister drove Celestia to distraction. Alas, poor Luna. For a thousand years she had gone without prayer and devotion, and because of this, she was now somewhat stunted. Of course, Celestia would never say such aloud, but they were both aware of it. Luna had been almost completely forgotten, with all of her shrines and chapels having been torn down long ago. She had died, and because of this, she had faded from the memory of the public. At least this was set to change, with Gosling spearheading the restoration of Luna’s worship. Celestia had a sincere hope that Gosling would dip his spearhead into the Holy Fount of the Moon Goddess… Gosling’s feverish state made him shiver and the cherry cordial had dulled his senses. He couldn’t quite feel the couch he was sprawled upon, but he could feel a burning sensation in his wings. Lifting his head—a real struggle because it was so heavy—he looked into Celestia’s rose coloured eyes. “Tell me a story,” he asked, and his voice sounded strange to him. “Not a silly story. Give me history. No funny business, I know how you are. No buttery ponies and clever, hungry dragons.” Through his blurred vision, he saw Celestia’s lips press together, and this made his ears rise in annoyance. “Serious. Story.” “But the serious ones are so dreadful—” “Serious. Story.” Gosling did his best to look commanding, but he was pretty sure he failed. Sighing, Celestia’s ears drooped. “I could tell you a story about unicorns with curved horns.” At this, Gosling shook his head and replied, “No… tell me something that is not in the history books.” “The things not in the history books are best left forgotten—” “But you lived through them and I know you remember.” “There are times I wish I didn’t. My memory is long, Gosling, and filled with a great many terrible things. I have seen much that is best left forgotten.” “But I wish to know.” Again, Celestia sighed, and her face became downcast. “Very well, Gosling. There are things that cannot be unlearnt. It is time for you to learn a lesson and I will be your teacher. This seems to be a tradition with my students… all of them. Sunset Shimmer and I had this moment, as did Cadance and I, and even Twilight became a vessel of unwelcomed knowledge that I know she regrets to this very day.” Luna paused in her pacing long enough to say, “Sister, don’t do it. You don’t have to give Gosling what he wants.” Angling his neck, Gosling brought his head to rest against Celestia’s meaty thigh, and he waited while she prepared herself. He felt drowsy, but not sleepy—a strange feeling indeed—and he longed for a distraction from his pain. What had Celestia told Twilight? Was anything too terrible for Twilight to be repulsed and not take an interest in it? “I will tell you something I’ve not told anypony for centuries, Gosling.” Celestia’s voice was strained, almost cracking, and Gosling’s ears pricked to an alert position. “A long, long time ago, there was a filly… and she watched as her kind grew desperate and callous against a terrible evil. She was an alicorn filly, you see, and it broke her heart to watch as her own kind ceased to be moral paragons. This started with her foalhood friend, whose name was Limey, and he was treated quite poorly by her elders.” A few feet away, Luna ceased to pace, and Gosling heard her inhale, but not exhale. “More and more, her elders gave up the moral high ground that they had fought for so long to defend, and the corruptive influence that filled the world found purchase in their hearts. Many alicorns had become monsters on the outside, twisted and made foul by terrible magics, but these alicorns became monsters on the inside, and they spoke with deceitful, honeyed words.” Above all else, Gosling could hear the regret in Celestia’s voice. “The ancient race of alicorns had gone mad… thoroughly and utterly mad. The war with the draconequus spawns had brought out the worst in them… the absolute worst. And so, this filly, desperate to save her little ponies, found that fate had forced her hoof: to save her beloved, precious little ponies, she would have to face another threat to their existence.” The pain in Celestia’s eyes became too much to bear, but Gosling could not turn away. “The history books tell it one way, and there is some truth to that,” Celestia continued. “Using the worst of magics, the elders actually tapped into the corruptive magic and turned it upon the little ponies, twisting them and turning them into monstrous creatures fit for combat. The city was under siege… desperation drove them to extremes… unforgivable extremes. So, this filly, she was forced to slay them and their ruinous creations.” Luna let out a pained gasp, finally releasing the breath she had been holding. “This filly, she took her tiny, precious band of survivors, those still whole of body, and she fled. Behind her, she left a massive crater and scorched earth. Her elders were dead, the city ruined, and what was left of it sank into the ocean. With a broken heart, she realised that as long as the alicorns existed, her little ponies would never be safe. They had become a threat equal to, or perhaps greater than the draconequus spawn menace.” A few steps away, Luna began weeping, a sound that made Gosling’s ears twitch. “Keeping her ponies alive and preventing their extinction became a priority. These are the same ponies that we now call the First Tribe. There weren’t very many of them left. Together, they fled into a dangerous wilderness, and this filly was forced to make very adult decisions that she wasn’t ready for. As she roamed, leading her tribes behind her, she took no chances, and every draconequus or alicorn encountered out in the wild was slain. One by one, she hunted them down, she sought them out and she slew them. None of them could be trusted, not a one.” Staring into Celestia’s eyes was terrible, and Gosling didn’t know how he managed. “This filly, she was filled with a need to keep her little ponies safe at any cost, and she began to wonder if she was any better than her alicorn elders. She was ruthless with her hunting, and one by one, they fell, even those who had hid themselves. Her instincts told her that that it was only a matter of time before they lost themselves to madness. They were monsters in waiting… all of them.” It was at this point that Gosling made the dreadful connection, and he turned to look at Luna, who wept. “And then, there were two…” Celestia didn’t speak these words so much as she breathed them. “I thought my ponies safe, at least for a time, and new ponies had joined us after a terrible ice age. The new blood was needed… we were so few. Those years were hard… I remained a filly for long periods of time… I died often. I think I died while foaling more often than I died in battle. I had carved a kingdom out of the monster-infested wilderness, with my capital right in the heart of the Everfree.” Luna made a bleating sound, and then covered her face with her wing. “I saw all the warning signs, but I chose to ignore them… I did not wish to be the last of my kind. A powerful wizard named Star Swirl had become my tutor, and he taught me much. I had plenty of raw magical strength, but a real lack of control. He tried to fix that. While we prospered, while I grew and I came into my own, while I reveled in my many successes, I blinded myself to the shadow consuming my sister.” It was at this point that Gosling had something to say. “Nightmare Moon happened.” Crestfallen, Celestia nodded. “And then, there was one. The madness that had claimed my species had taken one more, and I was left wondering how I alone seemed immune. Of course, as the years passed, as I waited out the thousand winters, I began to wonder if I was immune… I had committed genocide against my own kind. I carved away the dangerous threats so the little ponies that I so loved could prosper… I had saved them, but at such great cost to myself. At some point, I realised, it didn’t matter. What had been done was done and it fell upon me to continue to ensure their survival, even at the cost of my own happiness. I hadn’t slain my sister, I just… I just couldn’t do it at the time, but I had banished her, and I had done so with the hopes that she could be restored. I didn’t want to be alone…” Sure enough, the lesson sank in, and Gosling had learned something he wished he did not know. “I am not the pony that others believe me to be. I am a bloodthirsty warlord and a tyrant. I’ve taken the lives of many… perhaps millions. To secure an empire, I crushed mine enemies and then I sowed the dead land with their blood and bones to give life to the soil. With mine hammer, I have laid waste to entire armies… I have created oceans of blood, seas of gore that one could float a vast navy upon, and my battlefields scabbed over with the liquefied remains of the dead. All of what you see right now, all of the history that you think you know, all of the gentleness and good virtue of the mighty nation of Equestria, it is all a fabrication, just as I am a fabrication. I have outlived the historians, and I have corrected much of their histories. I am not the mare that I have made others believe I am.” Somehow, Gosling found the courage to look into Celestia’s eyes once more, and he saw how they blazed with terrible inner fire. “If you are not Celestia, then who are you?” Her chest puffed out, the muscles of her neck went taut, and a fierce, burning pride could be seen on Celestia’s face. Looking at her, Gosling could see the terrible truth, that there was something dreadful hidden beneath her unfathomable beauty. I am Sol Invictus, She Who is the Unconquerable Sun.