//------------------------------// // Burden of Leadership // Story: Harmonics // by ezra09 //------------------------------// They walked together down the main dirt road of Camp Canterlot, heading South toward the ruined city. “So, your letter,” Thistleroot started. “I’m sorry,” Scootaloo said. “I know it was a lot to ask, but this is serious. We were attacked by windigos yesterday. Things are only going to get worse.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re the one who suggested that my friends are following my lead. I made a decision. Isn’t that what you wanted?” “Yes,” Thistleroot answered. Scootaloo waited for him to continue, but he walked on in silence. “So what? You wanted me to make decisions, but you don’t agree with one, so I’m in trouble?” “Nope,” Thistleroot said. “You’re right, I don’t agree with it, but I trust you. You know more about that particular situation than I do. If you think freeing Discord is the right call, I’ll follow it.” Scootaloo slowed, arching an eyebrow at him. “Really?” “Really,” Thistleroot said. “Then what’s the problem?” Thistleroot’s horn glowed, and one of his saddlebags popped open. A rolled piece of paper floated out and unfurled. Thistleroot cleared his throat and read, “I think you might have been right about that, at least. I come up with an idea and they agree to it. I don’t like it. I really don't like feeling like everypony is following me, but they’re my friends. I don’t want to let them down.” “You know, when I wrote that letter, I didn’t expect it to be read back to me,” Scootaloo said, deadpan. “It was bad enough the first time.” Thistleroot continued, “This next part is pretty important though. Ahem, if we die trying to fight Nocturne, freeing him might be the only chance we have left. Do you see the problem?” Scootaloo considered the words as they passed the final row of tents and entered the city ruins. “No?” “If we die,” Thistleroot said. Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen how powerful Nocturne is, and how evil Rose is. We can’t pretend it couldn’t happen.” “Nuh-uh,” Thistleroot said. “You make a decision, and the other ponies go with it. You said it yourself. Unwilling or not, you’ve accepted the role of leader.” “Okay?” “Well, obviously that means you’re not allowed to die. You have given up that right. Full stop, no excuses.” Scootaloo’s steps faltered and she blinked several times in confusion. “What?” “Other ponies are depending on you. You’re not allowed to die.” “That’s... It’s not like I’ve got a choice in the matter. We’re going up against some really dangerous creatures.” “Nope. You’re a leader, you don’t get to make excuses.” “That’s... You’re being ridiculous.” “Yup,” Thistleroot agreed. “What happens if you face Nocturne and you end up dead?” “I end up dead. Isn’t that kind of self explanatory?” “What happens to the ponies with you?” Scootaloo frowned. Her stomach did an uncomfortable little hop as she thought about it. “First of all,” Thistleroot said, and there was a hardness to his voice that she hadn’t heard before. “I’m not sitting on the sidelines and keeping myself safe. The changelings destroyed my home. When you face them, I’m going to be right there next to you. Which means that if you die, I probably will too. Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Spike will be there too.” “That’s not fair,” Scootaloo said, heat rising in her chest. “I never asked for that.” “And I never asked for my roguish charm and good looks. Yet we all have our crosses to bear.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes and he grinned. “You’re right. None of us asked for any of this.” He turned, circling around a large chunk of stone that used to be part of a dance studio. The ruins of Canterlot Castle came into view ahead of them. “And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that my apartment is in ruins. It’s not fair that I’m currently unemployed and homeless. It’s not fair that other ponies look up to you. It’s not fair that your sister is a statue. I’m sorry.” Scootaloo sighed. “It’s... Okay, I get your point. I kind of already knew that I had to be careful. I don’t want to see anypony get hurt because I made a bad call.” “I know you don’t,” Thistleroot said. He glanced to their right as the passed the still standing archway leading to Canterlot gardens and frowned. Scootaloo didn’t know why, but he spent a few more seconds looking toward the garden entrance than he had any of the other rubble. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to not die, and to keep everypony else safe. That has to be enough for you, though. I can’t just make myself immortal to keep you happy,” Scootaloo said. Thistleroot pulled his gaze away from the gardens and grinned. “Alright, fair enough.” “So, where are we going, anyway?” Scootaloo asked as they continued down the street toward the ruined castle. “Or, that’s obvious. Why are we going to the castle?” “We’re visiting the statue of Discord,” Thistleroot said simply. Scootaloo faltered again, and then came to a stop. “Why?” Thistleroot stopped a few steps later, but didn’t turn to face her. When he spoke, there was a slight tremble to his voice. “Because, I want to tell you a story. A story of a dashing unicorn, and the crazy pony that he may or may not have gotten killed. It’s not something I want to think about, but it’s a story you should hear.” “A crazy pony? You mentioned a crazy pony before, during the battle just before Nocturne was released. The one that told you Canterlot would be destroyed.” “Yeah, that’s the one. It was just after the gala. I was staying by the princess’s side, waiting for news about what happened to you. Before we knew you’d been captured. We found out that the attack on the gala was just a distraction, that they wanted to use mind magic on Discord, to find out everything that happened to you ten years ago. They wanted to make their own Elements of Disharmony.” The bottom of Scootaloo’s stomach dropped away. “That’s how Dash and the others were turned to stone, isn’t it?” “Probably. The thing is, the princess and Starswirl mentioned that looking into Discord’s mind would mess a pony up. Later on, while I was by myself, I was looking for something to do. I was at the hospital, and I saw that they had a psych ward. On a whim, I checked to see if there were any ponies admitted recently, and I got lucky. I found the pony that looked into Discord’s head.” “Was he... was he that bad?” Scootaloo asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It was even worse than anypony thought it would be. I don’t think he ever could have gotten better. His name was Day Dream. He was an orange unicorn, though I don’t really know much about him.” “Orange? Did he have a cutie mark like a thought bubble?” Thistleroot turned back to look at her, eyebrows arched. “Yeah. How did you know that?” “I met him once,” Scootaloo said. The memory sent chills through her. “Just after you were kidnapped. The memory spells started slipping, and an orange unicorn attacked me. He tried to cast more memory spells on me. I got away, though.” “I guess that makes sense,” Thistleroot says. “Mind magic like that is illegal. Not many ponies can do it.” “So, he went crazy?” “Yeah. The thing is, he thought he was Discord.” Scootaloo blinked. “He thought he was... what do you mean?” “Like, he talked about things Discord did using the words I and me. He told me that the changeling queens hid the key to Nocturne’s prison by saying it was ‘with us but not us’. That kind of thing. Starswirl said that with something as powerful and crazy as Discord, it wasn’t surprising that looking into his mind would leave an imprint like that.” “Yeah,” Scootaloo said. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what that would be like, to connect her mind directly to the spirit of chaos. “Um, you said... you said he was killed?” “Yeah,” Thistleroot said, his shoulders falling, head hanging low. “Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe the crusaders were already looking for him, and just happen to find him. But it’s possible that they already knew where he was, and just decided to get rid of him because I’d found him. I really don’t know.” “I’m sorry,” Scootaloo said. She stepped forward, awkwardly putting a hoof on his shoulder. Thistleroot shrugged. “Yeah. It’s like I said earlier, sometimes we might make mistakes and other ponies pay for them.” He shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “Anyway, that’s not the point of this story.” Thistleroot turned back toward Canterlot Castle and started walking again. “Okay,” Scootaloo said. He was obviously still bothered by what he’d just told her, but if he wanted to change the subject, she wasn’t about to force him to dwell on it. She started following again. They were silent for another few minutes, picking their way through the castle courtyards, and eventually finding their way into the sculpture gardens. Ahead of them, a single patch remained untouched by the destruction, and at its center stood the statue of a draconequus, face an angry glare, talons reaching down in front of it. “What’s the point?” “The point is that you apologized.” “I what?” Scootaloo asked, trying to shift mental gears. When had she even been part of the story? “You apologized to Discord about what happened, didn’t you?” “I... actually, yes. But, how did you know that?” “He told me.” Scootaloo shook her head. “Sorry, what? I’m confused.” “Once I figured out what was going on, that the crazy pony had Discord in his head, I asked him a question. I asked him if he hated you.” Scootaloo stopped again. “What?” “I asked Discord if he was angry with you, and he told me that you apologized. He said he didn’t hate you.” Thistleroot kept walking. Scootaloo stood, rooted in place, trying to understand what he’d just said, trying to comprehend what exactly was happening. Thistleroot had talked to Discord? In a way? He’d asked what? Had he pieced together that much, or had somepony told him more? He’d asked Discord what? He’d asked... “What?” Scootaloo asked, moving forward again. Thistleroot looked back, pausing, a look of doubt flickering across his face. “I uh... oh. I didn’t mean, like... I wasn’t trying to step on any hooves, or anything, I promise. It just occurred to me in the moment and I asked.” Scootaloo breathed. “It’s... it’s fine. I’m sorry, it’s just, that’s kind of a touchy subject.” “I can imagine.” “What’s the point of all of this? Why are you bringing me here for this story?” Thistleroot looked back up at the castle, and then turned back to her. “I’m not freeing Discord,” he said. “But I think you should.” Scootaloo’s face hardened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you have any idea what he’d do to me if he was freed?” “Apologize, hopefully,” Thistleroot said. “It sounded like he was sorry.” “That wasn’t Discord! What if the real Discord doesn’t forgive me for trapping him again? Do you have any idea what he could do to me?” “A bit,” Thistleroot said. “It’s all pretty similar to what Nocturne and Rose could do to you.” Scootaloo hesitated. “If you don’t want to free Discord, then I’ll agree with you,” Thistleroot said. “If you decide it’s too dangerous to face Nocturne, I’ll stand by that decision too. I’m not strong or brave enough to fight them on my own. But I’m not going to stay here, alone and safe with a back up plan and prepare for your death. I... That is one decision I won’t agree with.” Scootaloo leaned back, shoulders falling as she took in his expression. He somehow managed to look angry, sad, and resolute all at once. “If you think freeing Discord would help, if you think he’ll be able to save ponies’ lives, then free him,” Thistleroot said. “It’s really not even the craziest idea you’ve ever had.” “What if you’re wrong?” “It doesn’t matter. I won’t let him hurt you.” The idea almost made Scootaloo want to laugh. “How?” Thistleroot shrugged. “I’ll find a way. Like I said, you’re a leader now. You’re not allowed to die.” Scootaloo shook her head. She stepped forward to get a better view of the statue. “There’s no rubble around him.” “Nope. I noticed that before, just after the city was destroyed. You said the princess cast a bunch of spells all at once, and one of them you never figure out what it did, right?” “Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “I guess we know now.” “Do you think she planned for this?” Scootaloo shook her head. “No way. I think she just wanted to give us as many options as possible.” She stepped forward even further, looking into the face of Discord’s statue. He still wore that angry glare. A familiar stab of guilt ran through her. He hated her. He had to hate her after everything that had happened. And she’d hated him, for a time at least. The thought of freeing him terrified her. He’d been her friend. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. If you can find a way to free him, I’ll do it. But I’m not going to wait. If we find something else first, we’re—” The fragment of harmony hit the ground in front of her. “...” “...” “...Thistleroot?” “Yeahuh?” “You have three seconds to run.”