Myths and Birthrights
By Tundara
Book Two: Duty and Dreams
Chapter Nine: The Demonstar
Once again, Twilight found herself the center of attention in the middle of a grand gala. As before, nobles from all stripes and sorts came either to see the latest curiosity first hoof, or play the games of politics; both more often than not.
At least, unlike the Gala of the Stars, she shared some of the spotlight with Luna. Armoured in cloak of cold aloofness, Luna’s hard, ice blue eyes judged everyone beneath her gaze. She was imposing and haughty, with an unapproachable regal air, and a deep comfort to Twilight. Luna acted as a bulwark, protecting Twilight from the worst of her anxiety. Unable to use her breathing exercises under so many judging eyes, Twilight latched onto the relief Luna provided.
Even with Luna’s reassuring presence, Twilight couldn’t shake the sensation of being under a hungry dragon’s shadow. Dread quickened her heart, and her smile was cracked and unnatural, a slight tremor in the corner of the eye. Wherever she went, judging eyes followed. Whispers danced at the edges of perception, her name coupled with a sour note the only comprehensible components.
Worse than the suspicious murmurs of the nobles were the servants. Reverence of a nature Twilight had never before encountered echoed from each like the plucked strings of a harp that could not silenced. Her teeth vibrated whenever one drew near, and a sharp throbbing pain began to form behind her right eye.
Her only relief came in the form of a tasty drink. A brandy of some type flavoured with cream and licorice. It danced across Twilight’s tongue delightfully and helped divert her attention, if only for a brief interlude. It was no Sparkle tea, but serviceable for Twilight’s purposes. Unable to be affected by so little alcohol, the act of holding the glass, of regulating her magic so as to avoid shattering the fragile object, provided a tiny focal point for her to latch onto whenever her anxiety spiked. With her two sources of protection near, Twilight mingled until it was time for the presentation of the gifts.
In the heart of the gardens, the large chest she’d brought had been placed upon a raised platform. With but a look from the empress, the crowd fell into silent expectation. Twilight was a little impressed, comparing Maatsheptra favorably to the princesses. Her regal demeanor, heightened by the fading light of the day, gave her an unapproachable, commanding air. She possessed a portion of Celestia’s motherly air combined harmoniously with Luna’s stern aloofness.
The empress’ mere presence wasn’t enough to quell everyone. A sharp, young laugh prickled Twilight’s ears. It was the worst kind of laugh, reminiscent of her younger sister when she was in one of her mean spirited moods, or any other bully when they spotted their favoured target.
Two foals, a colt and filly, dressed in fine silks and adorned in jewels and gold, sauntered through the crowd. The small scales beneath the eyes, shaggy black manes and the short, curved horns perched on their brows spoke to their heritage. Parting before them, the gathered nobles allowed the noisy foals access to the platform.
Still laughing, the young prince skipped up onto the platform ahead of his sister. The light in his golden eyes was the worst sort; over-confident, sneering, and cruel. Too many times, Twilight had seen similar glimmers in the ponies that pranced through Celestia’s court, and an instant dislike for the prince took hold.
The young princess, however, held none of her brothers contemptuous arrogance. She held herself neither above others, nor did she cringe or shy away, but moved with a quiet assurity as if she were wandering through a pleasant dream. A demure smile was given to a few nobles she recognised, and she bowed to Luna and Twilight before setting hoof on the platform.
“These are my foals; Toashetra and Hattmettren,” Maatsheptra introduced them in turn. In a voice that carried far, she addressed her foals, “You were instructed to stay in the nursery.”
“You tell us to do a lot of things we ignore,” Toashetra scoffed, eyeing the four ornate boxes arrayed on a low table. There was a familiar glimmer to the look, one that sent shivers up Twilight’s back. “What tithes did the ponies bring? I demand to know.”
Luna frowned, displeasure at the colt leaking from her like an oily smoke.
Impassive, Maatsheptra asked her daughter, “What about you?”
“I was curious, naturally,” Hattmettren indicated the gifts with a slight wave of her hoof, “Who could learn about your guests, Your Imperial Majesty, and not feel the delight of wonder and the itch to meet such interesting ponies?” To Luna and Twilight, she added with a bow, “It is a great honour you bestow on our nation.” Though a little saccharine, Hattmettren’s words were genuine, and drew ire from her brother.
Her daughter’s politeness obviously pleased Maatsheptra. She gave permission for the princess to remain while the young prince was ordered back to his rooms.
Cheeks puffed out, he lashed his tail back and forth, and whined, “But, I need to know what they brought!” His protests only grew as a pair of Imperial Guards flanked him and began leading him away. He kicked. He screamed; And, in general, acted as only the most spoiled and unselfconscious of foals are capable.
Sighing as her brother was picked up and dragged out of the garden, Hattmettren took her accustomed place beside her mother.
Maatsheptra studiously ignored the antics of her son, and, as soon as his howls had faded, put on a pleasant smile as she turned her attention to the gifts.
Opening Luna’s gift first, she was presented with wine. Three bottles packed in straw and sturdy frames. Twilight tilted her head a little, eyes wide at the sight of the familiar bottles. Wide bodied, with thin, slightly tapered necks, Twilight had only seen them once before. Her suspicious hopes were confirmed when Maatsheptra exclaimed in a voice intend to carry across the gardens, “Genuine moon wine! Straight from Luna herself. And three bottles, no less. But how? There has not been any in centuries, and it takes years upon years to properly ferment.”
“True, the first barrels will be a decade before they are ready. These, however, are from my ancient stocks,” Luna said as she uncorked one of the bottles. “My sister did not find all my vaults, nor did adventurous archaeologists uncover every one of the Nightmare’s secrets. These were in a hidden panel in my old chambers in Everfree Castle. Seven bottles, of which these three remain.”
Glasses were produced, a fine set of crystal embossed with platinum that accompanied the wine, and filled with the greatest of care. One each passed to Twilight and Maatsheptra, Luna raised her glass in a toast, and said in a hearty boom that carried over the entire garden, “To new friendships.”
“To prospective alliances,” Maatsheptra replied before she took a cautionary sip, while Luna and Twilight both drank down large mouthfuls.
Fire, cold and soothing, leapt over Twilight’s tongue, swelled in the back of her mouth, and then rushed down her throat in a wonderful cascade. Blissful sensations of burning frost tingled outward from her belly, worked its way down all six limbs, and made Twilight sigh with pleasure.
She’d never cared much for wine before encountering Luna’s moon wine. Even afterwards, Twilight couldn’t say that she cared for the wine. It did, however, steal away tension and envelope her in a temporary shield against anxiety.
Before anymore of the royal gifts could be enjoyed, a page slipped up to Lord Halphamet, and whispered something in his ear. He gave no indication of what was said, simply broke away from the group he’d been with to relay the message to the empress. Maatsheptra listened with a polite smile, then said, “Yes, have her announced.” She then nodded to the herald, who stood on anxious hooves off to one side.
He cleared his throat, and had just gotten past, “Her Divine Highness,” when Faust swept past him.
Heads swiveled around and eyes widened, the remaining gifts forgotten.
A small part of Twilight was thankful for the interruption. Compared to Luna’s moon wine, or Philomena’s eggs nested in a bed of golden straw and enchanted fire opals sent by Celestia, Twilight’s gift felt so plain. All she’d been able to put together were the original friendship letters she’d sent to Celestia during her tenure in Ponyville. Other than placing them within three gold and dragon-horn scroll cases, one for each year, the letters were untouched.
If Mattsheptra was surprised by Faust’s appearance she showed no sign of it. There was more an air of curiosity and anticipation, like she were a filly on Hearth’s Warming morning about to open a big present. Expectation grew as the herald was brushed aside only half-way through Faust’s litany of titles.
Leaning towards Luna and Twilight, Maatsheptra said, “Just watch. I believe you will enjoy what follows.”
Luna shot a glance at the empress that hovered between incredulity and annoyance while Twilight wondered over the empress’ meaning.
Faust moved through the crowd with purpose, murmurs left in her wake as she passed by the platform with little more than a slight glance at Luna and Twilight.
“Mother, what is going on?” Luna demanded and stepped in front of Faust.
With a quick side-step, Faust maneuvered past Luna like she were dancing around a particularly obstinate tree. Her course put Faust on a direct line to where Twilight’s friends stood chatting.
They began to greet her when Faust swooped down to pin Timely in a deep, passionate, but very one-sided, kiss.
Timely reacted by freezing stiff, eyes the size of dinner plates, and face an absolute white beneath his cream coat. They remained this way, crowd gawking, lips pressed tight, for a full minute. Faust broke the kiss at last, tilted her head a little, and frowned just perceptibly. Timely’s jaw moved in shocked silence as he attempted to form words unable to find voice.
“Am I that bad?” Faust asked, a hesitant hitch in her voice. “With such a gap in experiences, I had nothing to base it upon. Perhaps I simply need more practice.”
She leaned back down, lips puckered like the suction cups of an octopus. This snapped Timely out of his fugue.
He quickly back stepped, and snapped, “Madam! What in Celestia’s mane are you about, accosting a stallion in such a manner so publicly?”
Faust pulled back, her brow pinched together in a delicate line. She barely acknowledge the crowd, eyes only flicking to where Twilight and Luna stood. Twilight was utterly flabbergasted, coherent thoughts having long since thrown up their collective hooves and retreated to safer corners of her psyche. Luna hid a set of snickers behind a hoof.
“Trying to correct an errant deviation in the Weave, my love,” Faust answered in total innocence.
Face darkening to a cherry red now, Timely grabbed Faust by the ear and pulled her aside to a growing susurration of whispers. Amusement bright across her face, she followed at a dignified pace, hardly seeming to notice the glow of magic about her ear.
“Daughter, we’ll talk soon! Your father and I simply need to reconnect! It may take some time, as he has had several lives to forget me. Have faith. Everything will work out in the end, and we shall be a family again!” Faust shouted, her voice carrying far beyond the confines of the palace grounds.
Overwhelmed by the din of chattering nobles and Faust’s odd behaviour, Twilight experienced the party in a blurry haze. She was aware of attention returning to the gifts after a short period of gossip and conversation surrounding the strange arrival the Queen of All Ponies. Likewise, the opening of the remaining gifts tumbled by without truly being parsed. Maatsheptra gave the same delighted little smiles and comments when each was opened. Her gift was received the same as the grand gestures sent by her cousins, but part of her whispered the empress was merely being polite.
Drifting further and further to the side, Twilight took the first opportunity to slip away and look for a quiet segment of the garden to calm her nerves. The party pressed in from all sides, crushing her under the weight of judging eyes and embarrassment. All she wanted was to retreat, to curl up in a pile of ancient books and escape into their pages until the anxiety passed. It took substantial self-control to keep from teleporting to the Bellerophon. To do so would cause a scene far worse than the difficulties presented by staying.
Behind Twilight came her friends, each trying to provide some comfort. Twilight began to thank them, while wishing they would give her a little space to be alone, when she walked into a pony.
“Head among your stars, princess?” chortled the pony she’d bumped. Acid inflicted the voice, enough to startle Twilight.
Stepping back with a quick apology, Twilight was surprised to find the speaker to be an attractive, pitch-black pegasus. No, not pegasus, Twilight realised with a start. Close enough to reach out and touch the mare, Twilight could taste the magic leaking from the layer upon layer of wards and enchantments encasing her. It took a little concentration to peer past the spells, and truly see her. When she did, Twilight gave a little start.
It was like staring into a void, as if there was nothing beside her. The mare consumed the ambient aether around her, sucking it into her core as if she were a dark, swirling hole. Her presence pulled at Twilight like a lodestone on iron.
Instincts honed over many adventures screamed that she was in danger. Eyes darted towards her friends, and found them all acting as if nothing were amiss. Rather, they chatted and laughed at Timely’s expense, and took no notice of the danger in their midst. Except for Luna, who watched Twilight out of the corner of her eye.
“Ah, not so mirror-eyed after-all,” the mare laughed, a dangerous sound that further put Twilight’s teeth on edge. “I feared you’d be too blue-white to even think to see my true-self. Look long and well, mistress, for I am what you condemned my beloved sister to become when you cast her from our home in the heavens.”
Twilight jerked back as if she’d been bucked. Her insides writhed in dread, as if she were about to tip into a pit filled with spiders.
“I am Algol, mistress,” the pegasus swept into a deep, mocking bow, “first among the Valla.”
Questions burst like novas as her mind raced, unable to form any definitive conclusions. She needed to know more about this mare but found herself unable to speak; Curiosity so strong it strangled any other thought took hold. Only a few stuttered words managed to escape her spinning head.
“My sisters are fools to trust you,” Algol continued in tones that cracked like a whip against Twilight. “Perhaps they now see the error of their ways. You are no more than our slaver, and we mere things to be used, spent, and tossed aside at your whims. Well, this is a nation that has tossed off the shackles of despots and tyrants many a-time. Maybe my sisters will see the violet-black that is the true-you at the core of your being. Maybe not, however. Two-faced. Duplicitous, even to yourself.”
Twilight’s questions were quelled by the cold accusations. “I know myself rather well, actually,” Twilight countered with a huff. Algol’s amusement should have warned her that she’d entered a trap. Pressing ahead, she said, “Introspection and growth has been very important to me for a long time.”
“Ah, but is it? You claim to see into the mirror of the self, to know the colours that swirl in your heart. Yet, how can you, when you are but half of yourself? When you wait, rather than act. The face you wear is so… bleached. Like old driftwood on a rocky shore, content with wherever the waves have carried you. My sisters are so blind to follow your inept lead. Mistress indeed!” Algol curled back her lips into a disdainful sneer and turned away to leave a stunned Twilight behind. She was stopped before she could vanish by Rainbow’s wing thrust out in her path.
“Hey, nopony talks to my friend like that,” Rainbow growled through clenched teeth, appearing at Twilight’s side.
“Ah, and here is the Element of Loyalty, leaping into crimson fields without a thought. Mmm, you smell even like your forebearers, cherry pink and watery blue, but are so much lesser than the previous Elements,” Algol sniggered, the sound making Rainbow’s scowl grow.
“Hurricane, now there was a pegasus! Such a tiny thing, but with such a passion for the arts of war. Commander at fifteen, Commander-General a year later, and were it not for all the depressive blue of the Long Winter caused by Iridia’s descent into glorious lavender-black, why, I have no doubt Hurricane would not have only driven the griffons from the Mareberian peninsula centuries early, but she would have shattered the griffon empire entirely. Instead, she joined those fools led by Clover the Clever. Hurricane’s loyalty was boundless steel-grey.” Algol laughed as if she were relating a story from her schooldays with an old acquaintance. It did little to hide the snarky, dismissive glimmer in her red eyes. “You Elements of Loyalty are so predictable, and boring. A bit of advice; never stare a lotus in the eye.”
Rainbow bristled, wings rigid with anger. “I don’t even know what that means, but if you want to pick on my friends, you’ll have me to deal with first.”
“Rainbow, I’m alright, honest,” Twilight said, rather loudly so as to drown any further discussion. “This is all a misunderstanding. Just apologize and—”
“Apologize to her?! Me?” Rainbow yelled and jabbed Algol in the chest. “After what she said to you? I can’t just let her say things like that to my friends.”
With a growing grin, Algol looked down at Rainbow’s wing. “Is that a challenge?”
The question, spoken with such hope, shook Twilight to her core. There was malice in the question, and a fervent desire to bait Rainbow into a trap. She tried to stop Rainbow, to interject, but was too slow.
“Of course it’s a challenge!”
Murmurs and gasps from the crowd confirmed Twilight’s worst fears.
“Then your challenge is accepted. We will duel in the building of violet screams, beneath the eyes of Zerubaba. My Second will meet with yours to settle the details.” More excitement from the crowd greeted Algol’s proclamation.
Something had to be done, and quick. Zebra duels were not like the contests and games used among Equestrians to settle their differences.
Twilight needed help preventing a disaster. Looking around, Twilight couldn’t see any sign of Luna, nor Maatsheptra, the platform empty. Either could settle the argument before it went any further. Without them, Twilight didn’t know what she could do to spare both her friend’s feelings, and stop the duel.
“Seconds? I don’t understand. Just tell me where and when you want to race, or hoof wrestling, or whatever.” Rainbow demanded, still unaware of the danger she’d encountered. “Nopony is better than me when it comes to sports.”
Algol, and the crowd, laughed. “Races? Hoof wrestling? Sports? We are not foals, unwashed and white. I chose spells as my weapon. You may chose as you like.”
“Spells? Weapon?” Confusion flitted across Rainbow’s face and drew her brows together.
Twilight raced through everything she’d been told about Zebra customs. There had to be some way to stop the duel. Some little tidbit or rule that could be leveraged into one or the other backing down. Nothing she’d learned about Zebrica from Fleur was of use. However, a small comment made by Zecora shortly after Twilight met the shamaness popped up, a little nugget that could save both ponies.
Steeling herself for her friend’s recriminations, Twilight said, “Rainbow can’t duel you; she’s pregnant.”
Rainbow’s face turned a bright cherry red beneath her fur. Whether from anger or embarrassment, Twilight was unsure.
“Then she should learn to moderate her tongue. I have no qualms about fighting a pregnant mare, if she is so green-red as to issue a challenge. I will let her chose a proxy, however. I’m rather magnanimous, after all.”
“Listen, I don’t need nopony—”
“I will serve as her proxy,” said Fleur, emerging from the crowd with Halphamet to stand beside Rainbow. Behind Fleur, Twilight could make out Pinkie, her mane hanging limp as she chewed on the edge of her hoof.
“This is acceptable,” Algol answered before Fleur had finished. With a snap of her wings, Algol launched herself out of the garden, gusts of wind kicked up by her departure whipping across Twilight and her friends like a final insult.
“Who was that?” Rainbow asked, her sharp voice carrying far.
Halphamet followed the direction of her gaze, and frowned. “That is the Nahraha. It was she who taught us how to bind the ifrit to our wills, guided the Empress when she was cast out by her tribe for her prophecies, and serves her still as her most trusted advisor. You have made a very dangerous enemy.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve kicked worse in the teeth,” Rainbow scoffed and puffed out her chest.
“Except that you can not, mon amie,” Fleur sighed, ears falling as she shook her head.
Ears pressed back until they were flat with her head, and tail snapping with irritation, Rainbow said, “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for you to get involved. I can take care of that crazy mare on my own.”
“Oui, but, the safety of your foal comes first, no?”
“Didn’t stop me from saving your flank from Amon back on Marelantis, as I recall. So, it shouldn’t stop me now.”
Stung, Fleur snapped, “If I could take that ‘burden’ instead, I would much rather.”
“If you want the foal so bad, you can have it,” Rainbow growled back, wings thrust to the side. “I was violated and you think it is some great gift? Ha! I never wanted to have a foal. I’m not like AJ or Shy, who both want to be moms some day. This,” Rainbow pointed at her stomach, “was not my choice.”
With that, Rainbow launched herself into the air with far more force than that of Algol.
Twilight stood silent, confused and torn, unsure if she should follow her friend or not. From previous such displays, Twilight knew Rainbow needed some time alone to sort through her feelings. In an hour or so she’d find Rainbow.
Fleur moved in a slow, precise circle around the spacious room granted her by the Empress. A warm chamber, with high ceilings, tall windows flanked by silk curtain, and dominated by a spacious bed that was large and grand enough for a princess, it surprised her. She’s assumed her rooms would have either been shared with the other members of Twilight’s party, or been much smaller. Even her dunnage had been moved from the Bellerophon and placed in the dressers before she’d stumbled half-drunk and nervous into the room.
A thin frown played at the corners of her mouth, making her otherwise attractive features seem harsh and unwelcoming. Anxiety refused to be held at bay. Worries played out over and over in her mind, shepherded by the lessons she’d given Twilight on the nature of Zebrican duels.
She traced a hoof up her other foreleg, feeling the new scars hidden just beneath the surface. Mementos of Marelantis, and the demon-lord Amon.
For an instant Fleur wished to have Athena back. Wished she had withheld herself from stepping into the fight, and getting involved in the duel. Wished she’d never left Equestria in the first place, or simply for her dear Fancy Pants.
His absence created a gaping hole that left her weary and frightened. Cold without his strong hooves wrapped around her, without the gentle timber of his voice to give her confidence, Fleur doubted her capacity to fight Algol.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Luna as she entered before Fluer could give a greeting.
“What you are doing is very noble, Fleur de Lis, and very foolish,” Luna said without preamble, and with a note of admiration. “Though she may grumble, I suspect Rainbow appreciates and respects you all the more for your intervention, though she is unlikely to ever admit it even to herself.”
“It seemed more like she hates me now, non?” Fleur tried to put on a brave face, but suspected Luna saw through the facade with ease.
Taking the long lounge beneath the wide windows as her own, where the wind could play through her flowing, silvery mane, Luna asked, “Tell me, have you read the Book of Selene?”
“Oui. As a filly, and again when you returned, your Highness. My father possessed an ancient copy that belonged to our ancestors. Princess Celestia was less effective in the Old Queendoms at erasing your presence from history. As a filly, I found the book too violent. A lot of ponies died in each story.”
“Hmm, what about when you re-read them?”
“They are still violent,” Fleur shrugged. “It read more like an… what is the word? Anthology, yes? Like an anthology of short stories that must be unreal, for they were too fanciful to be believed. I was unsure what to think. You appear very little like the mare in the stories. She was so quick with a sword and hacking ponies to bits. You were very uncertain, and even tempered, though a bit cold, at first. I believed the stories to be exaggerated tales.”
Luna tilted her head to one side as Fleur spoke, a wide grin growing across her fine lips. “Which story was your favourite?”
Fleur had to think for a few minutes, recalling the various tales that filled the Book of Selene and comprised the first century of Luna’s life. The vast majority of stories detailed what were generally known as Luna’s maiden years, before she Awakened and took up the mantle of the Goddess of the Moon.
“There are so many,” Fleur said to gain more time, “Tamashi was enjoyable, with the bit in the middle, though still filled with too many deaths. I found Mountain of the Alabaster Throne and Reaver on the Wine Red Sea too unpalatable.”
“Lots of good ponies died in those,” Luna agreed, ghosts haunting the corners of her eyes and weighing her words with guilt. “Too many.”
“The Moon on the Sword was worse, though.” Fleur hesitated, and was afraid to ask how much truth that particular story carried. She shuddered to think what it would have been like to see her own family die in such fashions as presented in the book. “I would say my favourite was Princess of the Red Palace.”
“Meaghan,” Luna sighed, a wistful air breaking her stern composure. She smiled, gaze far-off, and became lost in old memories. The lapse was only momentary, and then her hardened exterior returned. “What about, Ponies of the Purple Pool?”
Fleur blanched, and let out a frightened whinny.
That was her least favourite story, perhaps. Not because it had the most ponies die, or was all that violent. Rather, it all seemed so pointless, the wanton cruelty and pleasure the villain of the story drew from tormenting Luna, a little filly still reeling from losing almost her entire family. A powerful sorceress, the villain toyed with Luna and her guardians high up in the mountains of Trotalonia, binding souls to her will, and their bodies to the titular pool, where they became shambling, undying abominations.
It clicked why Luna would bring up that particular story.
“Algol is the necromancer?”
Luna gave a slight nod.
“But, in the story, you killed her!”
“Algol is difficult to kill.” Luna sighed. “She was the first star to fall, and has wandered the disc before even the arrival of Iridia and Faust. Who can say what ancient secrets are hers alone, or how she rejects the limitations of mortality? All the valla are immortal, in a sense, preserved from the effects of time’s passage. Timeless, I suppose, is the better phrase. But, Algol, she is something else.
“When the Nightmare was imprisoned, there were a couple dozen such former stars living on the disc. I hoped to reconnect with them after my restoration, but in all the time since my return, Algol is the first to reappear. I worry for my old friends, and hope that nothing has befallen them during my banishment. That they simply spurn my company for the sins I committed as the Nightmare.
“All this has little connection to the matter at hoof. Algol is a foe as deadly as what you faced on Marelantis. She delights in the spread of suffering and misery. To her it is a tonic on par with the finest of wines. That she has been here in Zebrica these many years puts me ill at ease about the entire expedition and reasons for the empress’ invitation to Twilight. Duels among zebras are to first blood, but there is nothing that states that the blood drawn can not be lethal. All her strokes will be aimed at the throat or soul.”
Luna slipped off the lounge and made her way to a corner of the room. Next to Fleur’s grand bed, rested Pallas and Aegis, the spear and shield‘s resplendence making even in the opulent room seem drab with their presence. A faint glow preceded Luna hefting the spear. She gave it a few experimental twists and thrusts, and nodded her approval.
“The Bellerophons claim you are an expert battlefield tactician, and a true warrior.” Pallas spun about Luna in a fluid dance and came to rest with a clang beside her. “How much is truth, and the after-glow of being rescued, I wonder. Show me.”
Mastering the blush that threatened to creep over her cheeks, Fleur replied, “Non, your Highness, it was Athena who did all the fighting on Marelantis. Without her guidance, I would have been lost.”
Taking the offered spear, Fleur attempted to give it a few experimental thrusts. She held no confidence in being able to replicate the intricate movements Luna displayed. Pallas was heavier than Fleur remembered, like a dead lump of pig iron. There was none of the responsive flicker, the almost eager way Pallas responded back on Marelantis.
Tsking, Luna summoned Tamashi. Her ancient moonsilver odachi did not so much appear as cut its way into the room with a ringing silence. Light was drawn into the ancient curved blade so as to make the room seem dim and frightening. In the sudden half-light, Luna’s features seemed all the harsher, a stern set making her appear as if carved from midnight marble.
“Come at me,” Luna said, dropping into a ready stance. Tamashi glimmered with eager anticipation, flying to its mistress’ side.
Mouth suddenly dry, Fleur tried to comply. The moment she began to thrust Pallas, the spear grew impossibly heavy, like it weighed as much as a mountain. With a booming thud, Pallas struck the floor. For a long moment Fleur stared at the uncooperative weapon. Magic strained in her horn, cheeks puffed out, and Pallas refused to budge. The spear mocked all her efforts.
“I was afraid of this,” Luna said after Fleur gave out a defeated gasp. With an almost casual flick of her horn, Luna retrieved Pallas and set it back next to the bed. “Whatever occurred on Marelantis, Athena’s arms now reject you.”
“Because she is gone,” Fleur concluded grimly, thoughts racing as to how she could possibly fight Algol now. Without the mighty spear and shield, she was just another unicorn. “What chance is there against Algol now?”
Luna shrugged and casually shouldered Tamashi. Princess and ancient sword were striking, as if each were a part of the other, and only together complete. Always an imposing figure, with her stern gaze that many mistook as aloofness, Luna appeared ten times as commanding. Fleur saw her as she seemed in those long lost days, the warrior-princess who protected ponykind from the horrors that lurked in the darkness of the night.
Her heart beat faster, and Fleur wished with all her might that she could have but a fraction of the strength Luna displayed.
Maybe then she’d have hope when facing Algol.
“Three days,” Luna clicked her tongue. “Let us hope it is time enough to teach you how to at least survive. I hope Twilight doesn’t mind being left alone with the empress. We have a lot of work ahead, you and I.”
Fleur blinked a couple times. “Pardon?”
“Come, let us find one of the empress’ sparing rooms. This palace must have at least one.” Luna set off at a brisk trot, indicating for Fleur to follow.
Dread still twisting in her belly, Fleur followed. How she could be prepared in so short a time to fight a being many thousands of years experience seemed impossible.