It wasn’t every day that a brave, noble knight approached the castle of an evil vizard, but approach Nuance did, with his heart lodged in his throat and an uncomfortable squirmy sensation in his guts that made him want to run home to his mother. Said evil vizard kept a beautiful young maiden captive, because that is what evil vizards did, you see, and Nuance hoped to somehow secure her release. If not her release, then perhaps he could at least say hello before the vizard could release his volcanic vexation.
The tower beyond the gate ahead was a dark, foreboding place, menacing beyond description, and a dreadful prison filled with unspeakable horrors—some of which his beautiful maiden dared to call pets. Nuance feared that he might never fully understand Quiet Dark and her gruesome, morbid fascinations, but remaining in a constant state of mystified awe made everything about her so much more exciting.
A lone bushwoolie could be seen tending to the gardens of deadly nightshade, hemlock, and toxicoscordion venenosum. Nuance reminded himself to be on his best manners with the bushwoolies, and that he couldn’t boss them around, or play pranks on them, or pull their hair, because that would make the vizard’s hippogriff monster quite angry. Making Quiet’s mother angry was the last thing he wanted to do, because Blackbird was big enough to gobble him down in one bite, and she also made fantastic pies—pies fit for royalty, which Nuance was.
Upon Nuance’s approach, the bushwoolie vanished, darting through the utterly terrifying front door. What was so scary about it? Nuance wasn’t sure, but looking at the door filled him with dread, perhaps because of the vizard that lived beyond said door. A weird smell was in the air, something not pleasant, and Nuance wondered what sort of evil alchemy the vizard might be doing. Or maybe, just maybe, Blackbird had one of those sorts of pies again, the kind best left unspoken about.
The soldiers around Nuance halted, forming a protecting formation, and with his guts slithering like slippery serpents, the young colt continued ahead, alone on his solitary quest of confrontation with the most evil and most horrible of all vizards. He was known by many names, many titles, each more terrible than the last. The ponies of Fancy called him Dim le Destructeur. In Germaney, he was Bote der Feurigen Zerstörung und des Brennenden Todes. By the dragons and much of Equestria as well, he was simply known as Kommissar Dim, Ember’s Chosen. His daughter, Quiet, called him Daddy, Papa, or Vater, depending on her mood.
With no warning whatsoever, Nuance’s mouth went dry and he came to halt while trying to work up a little spit. Like a kettledrum, his heart pounded within his barrel, and all of his frogs were sweaty. Like nothing else in the whole wide world, Dim scared him, because the wily vizard saw right through him. Dim held no respect for position, for class, or caste, or anything else for that matter. The Kommissar judged all by their own merits, and Nuance, who had been a prat for a little too long, now had Dim’s dreadful ire. In the worst judgment of all, Quiet had been forbidden from seeing him, and Nuance knew why.
Giving himself a good shake, the steadfast colt reminded himself that he was a noble knight here to deal with a dreadful, tyrannical wizard. He attempted to stick his courage to the sticking place, but his courage, perhaps wiser than him, fled the scene with all haste. For a few seconds that stretched into a small, self-contained eternity, Nuance almost widdled himself and he wished that his sister Corbie was here to comfort him, though he would protest and deny such a need.
Before he could collect himself, the door was flung open and, horror of horrors, the vizard himself appeared in the doorway, looking dour, smoking a pipe, and glaring. Oh, how he glared, making all of Nuance’s innards almost liquify and go shooting out of his back end. Dim, in all of his terrific, tyrannical glory, stood in the doorway. Nuance tried to say something, some kind of formal greeting, but all that came out was a squeak.
The noble knight had faltered in his quest.
“Begone!” the vizard snapped, his words punctuated with curls of smoke.
“I’ve come to see Quiet—”
“Quiet is confined to quarters until such a time that you leave the Crystal Empire! Now begone, brat!” Then, without further ado, Dim slammed the door shut with a thunderous bang that echoed through the walled garden.
“I’m not leaving until I see Quiet!” Nuance shouted and he hoped that Dim could hear him. “If I have to, I’ll live in your garden! See if I don’t!”
There was no reply, no indicator that he had been heard. Would he really live here in the garden? Would he actually lay siege to Dim’s tower? He might. His parents had sent him here to the Crystal Empire to get him out of Canterlot for a while, for a change of scenery, and the vizard’s garden of toxic terrors was nothing like Canterlot, not at all. Just a few yards away, a giant sap trap grabber was suffocating a struggling songbird. Nuance watched it with wide, fearful eyes, and hoped that none of the foliage had a taste for unicorn colts.
So, it was to be a siege, then. Sighing, Nuance sat down upon the flagstone walkway and tried not to think about how dirty it was. The dreadful smell was growing worse and he wondered what sort of vile alchemical concoction was brewing. With his nose crinkling in disgust, Nuance committed himself to his courtly action, and if necessary, he would even brave the dark, dreadful night, though he hoped that it would not come to that.
“Hiya, Nooncy!”
Tilting his head back, the colt looked up and saw a familiar face peeking out of a narrow window—his maiden, his princess, his special somepony, she was beaming down at him with her terrifyingly, terrifically toothy bear trap smile. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, a thousand songs, whole books of poems, his mind raced as he tried to think of just the right thing to say to his one true love, his lady fair.
“What’s that smell?” Even as he said it, Nuance facehoofed.
“Oyster stew,” Quiet replied, her teeth glinting in the sun with an odd, almost metallic sheen. “Doesn’t it smell super-duper good?”
“No.” Nuance shook his head and regretted his reply.
“You’re so silly, Nooncy!” After a moment she added, “Uh oh! Buh-bye, Nooncy!”
With that, his beautiful princess was gone, and poor Nuance was left all alone in the garden, to reflect upon all of the things he might have done differently had he the chance to do so. A better opener, perhaps, not asking about the dreadful smell. Maybe telling Quiet that she was pretty and that he wanted to brush her mane. If only he was more like his father, who always seemed to know just what to say, or what to do. Gosling was a well-loved pony and Nuance… well, Nuance knew that he was not so well-loved as his father—but he was trying to change.
Sitting on the hard ground was a miserable experience for Nuance, who was used to sitting on the very best, the very softest of things. The soldiers gave him plenty of space, so much so that he almost felt alone. They all stood in silence, like statues, and not a one had said so much as a single word to him. His mother, Celestia, had given them orders not to interfere, and Nuance was a bit upset about that, but there was nothing he could do. Even if the guard could interfere, it would not go well for them, and ordering them to make Dim comply would only end in disaster.
No, this was something that he had to do for himself, somehow. His other mother, Luna, she had been the one to tell him to confront the vizard, and then do what was necessary. What was necessary? Nuance wasn’t sure, but his mother had promised him that when the time was right, he would know. Rather than pitch a fit and demand that she do something to fix this mess, he had accepted her words with silent grace.
But he was pretty upset about that though. All of that good behaviour, all of that doing the right thing, all of that painful acceptance, and not one word of praise from his mother, Luna. She had said nothing to commend him for being good, she offered no recognition, and deep inside of him he was irked because of her transgressions, her slight, her complete and utter failure to do her job as his mother.
He deserved better.
The door opened and a dark, foreboding shape seemed to materialise within it. ‘Twasn’t Dim, Nuance realised with no small amount of relief, but Blackbird. Shiny, sleek, black, she was a terror just like Dim, but for different reasons. Sitting on the flagstone walkway, he looked up at her and did his best to appear miserable.
“Can I see Quiet?” he asked.
“No, Nuance, I’m sorry. Dim has forbid it.”
Blackbird’s voice made his ears prick, but the rest of Nuance sagged, crestfallen. “Can I maybe speak to Dim?”
Shaking her head from side to side, Blackbird replied, “No, Dim is asleep. He’s taking a nap with Quiet, which is why I am here talking to you. Nuance, you should go. Dim is still angry with you, like, unbelievably angry with you, and that’s not going to change any time soon. You crossed a line, Nuance.”
The sudden tightness in his chest prevented him from saying anything, and he sat there looking up at Blackbird in silence. His reign as the Prat Prince had consequences, and he wasn’t sure where to even begin so that he might fix them. If only he could talk to Quiet somehow, she would tell him what to do, how to fix this, how to make this better, but Quiet and her advice was out of his reach. When the feeling that everything was just too impossible became too much to bear, the all too familiar sting of tears in his eyes overwhelmed him, and his barrel began to hitch and shudder.
Demanding to speak to Dim would only make things worse.
“Maybe you should try talking to Cadance. That seems to help other ponies in similar situations. Or maybe Shining Armor could give you some advice. He’s a father with two daughters. Maybe he can think of a way to appease Dim that won’t involve rivers of blood and fiery burnination.”
Sniffling, Nuance nodded, but he had no intention of budging and he was determined to wait this out, somehow. For once in his life, he was going to follow through with something, even if it meant risking a vizard’s ire. Quiet was worth that, so he felt, so he settled in for what was sure to be a long sit.
“Be nice to the bushwoolies,” Blackbird said as she began to close the door, “Or else it won’t be Dim that you need to worry about.” Just as she finished speaking, the door thumped shut and once more, Nuance was left alone in the ghastly garden.
A procession marched through the same gate that he had entered but a few hours ago and Nuance let out a resigned sigh. Flurry Heart and Skyla had arrived, no doubt so they could torment him. Quite a number of guards were present now, milling about the gate, and Flurry pushed past them with her little sister in tow. About a year or so ago, Skyla had given him a good thrashing and seeing her now made him recall every painful blow.
“Wow, you look miserable. I thought I’d’ve enjoyed seeing it more—”
“Skyla!”
Giving her big sister a sidelong glance, Skyla continued, “Why are you even here, Nuance?”
“Skyla, you promised that you’d be civil,” Flurry snapped as she tried to slap her sister, but her smaller sibling sidestepped the slow, clumsy assault.
“Leave her be,” Nuance said as he cast his gaze down upon the ground and watched as a beetle went trundling by. “I deserve this. Everypony hates me.”
“Everypony except for Quiet.” Skyla approached while keeping a wary eye on her big sister. “Quiet is a real weirdo though. She likes gross things, like slugs, cobwebs, and mutant spiders. For the life of me, I don’t understand what she sees in you.”
“Skyla, you big dummy, Quiet probably sees the same thing in Nuance that her mother sees in her father.”
“Shut up!”
“No, you shut up!”
“When I look at you I throw up!”
Flurry stuck out her tongue and blew a vulgar raspberry at her little sister.
“At least I didn’t ruin last year’s Crystal Cotillion. Nyah!”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Nuance bit down upon his lip and wished that the sisters would just shut up. If only Corbie was here to make him feel better—but alas, she wasn’t. His eyes burned and he squeezed his eyelids together even harder in a vain effort to try and hold everything in, because he didn’t want to cry in front of Skyla again.
Feeling the tickle of feathers beneath his chin, Nuance tried to jerk his head away but found that he couldn’t. His head was lifted, even though he fought against it, and Flurry was no doubt trying to be bossy again, because that’s just what Flurry did. Sure, he might be a prat, but Flurry was a bossy bully that told everypony around her what to do.
When Nuance opened his eyes, he did not see Flurry though, but Skyla’s bespectacled face. In shock, he blinked a few times, his vision fuzzing over, and had to struggle to bring her back into focus. Her wing might have well been stone, for it was so unyielding and solid. Tears spilled down his sodden cheeks and his embarrassment burned him from within.
“My best friend is miserable right now,” Skyla said in a low, flinty voice. “She’s been miserable since you were told to stay away and that she was no longer allowed to speak with you. Quiet told me that you are trying to turn over a new leaf. Is this true?”
“I—”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes. I’m trying, but nopony seems to want to give me a chance.”
Down deep within her throat, Flurry grunted, but nothing was said.
“You and Flurry have something in common then.” In a birdlike manner, Skyla’s head cocked off to one side to look over at her sister, and her nostrils flared broad and wide. “Flurry totally failed at being a princess and she ruined the Crystal Cotillion. It blew up in her face. It’s still blowing up in her face. It’ll keep blowing up in her face for quite some time, I think—”
“Shut up, Skyla!” Flurry whined.
“But she deserves a fair chance to make things right, and you do too, even if you are a scummy little slimeball that wets the bed—”
“Skyla! Rude! Totally uncalled for!”
“Two-face!” Skyla’s lip quivered with anger as she confronted her sister. “The entire way over here you kept making all kinds of cracks about him being a bedwetter. I believe you said, ‘The Bedwetting Prince of Potty Puddles.’ Was that it, or do you want to correct me?”
Biting her lip, Flurry gave her younger sister a murderous stare, but she also backed away. Nuance, who had heard all of this before, let out a sigh. It still stung, it was as painful as ever, and it seemed as though these words, this ridicule was going to haunt him right to his grave.
“I don’t like you, Nuance, but Quiet is my best friend, and this is tearing her apart. So now that the air has been cleared and everypony knows where we all stand, the three of us need to figure out some way to fix this.” While she spoke, Skyla narrowed her eyes at her sister and her ears tilted aggressively in Flurry’s direction.
“Why the three of us?” Flurry demanded. “Why do you feel the need to fix this, Skyla?”
“Because, you fluffy pink idiot,” Skyla replied in the snarkiest of deadpans, “we’re going to be in charge some day. All of us. Nuance too. And if we can’t figure out how to put our differences aside and work together now, all of Equestria is doomed, you mental midget. Do you want Equestria to be doomed?”
“No!” Flurry rolled her eyes while shuffling about on her hooves. “Okay, fine, I see your point. Too bad you can’t see yourself in the bathroom mirror to brush your teeth without a stool, short stuff.”
“One day, when I rule, short jokes will be outlawed. Mark my words!”
“If drool was rule, your pillow would control the universe—”
“Gah! Both of you! Just shut up!” Lifting both of his front hooves, Nuance squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his head. “Shut up!”
“See,” Skyla said in a matter-of-fact way, “this is how you get doom. If we keep this up, there’ll be windigos in our future. Do you want windigos? Because I don’t want windigos. Now, can we make a truce so that we can work together and prevent the imminent windigo invasion?”
“Sure, I guess.” Flurry shrugged with her wings, and then stood there, just glaring at her sister.
“I would be grateful for your help, thank you.” Opening his eyes, Nuance let go of his head and put his front hooves back down upon the ground. “So, is there a plan?”
Taking a moment to adjust her spectacles, Skyla nodded. “We lure Dim out and then we try to get him to listen to reason.”
Rolling her eyes in a way that only a big sister could, Flurry let out a snort and said, “We should just invite the windigos now and get it over with!”