//------------------------------// // Meetings and Reunions // Story: Northern Venture // by Chengar Qordath //------------------------------// Marching through the mountains in the face of freezing winds and light but seemingly unending snow got old fast. Despite the faint grumbles it provoked from Sigil, I’d gotten in the habit of keeping up a low-level heat shield over the group whenever we were out in the open. Maybe the caribou thought I was being a bit soft or wasting my magic, but everyone else in the group shot grateful looks my way every time they saw me casting. Of course, there were limits to how far I could take the spell. No matter how good I was with heat and fire, doing it for hours at a time was draining, not to mention taking the temperature above freezing would’ve caused a dozen new problems. Nopony would thank me if I turned all the ice and snow under our hooves into half-melted slush. Still, at least I could take the edge off the cold. Sigil eventually showed his displeasure by taking the lead, moving far enough ahead that he would be out of my spell’s range. That suited me just fine; unlike the rest of us, he had a thick coat and all the other adaptations that made cold weather a lot easier to deal with. Kukri had done her best to imitate his thick, shaggy fur, but judging by how she still shivering and whimpered every time the wind picked up, it wasn’t good enough. Puzzle glanced down at my poor apprentice as I put a bit more power into the warming spell. “A new form can only do so much, little one,” he advised. “Not every trait of the form we take carries over to us.” “Is there a form this one can take that will stop it from freezing to death?” Kukri grumbled. “You have survived the week,” Sigil commented from ahead of us. “And I would not keep us on the road if you were in any danger. If the cold bothers you so much, I suggest you grow stronger and overcome it.” Kukri stuck her tongue out at the caribou once he turned his back on her, only to quickly pull it back in with a groan. “T-too cold to do that.” Her eyes flicked up to my horn, hoping I’d send another heat spell her way. I held off, considering she’d kind of brought her case of cold tongue on herself. My apprentice let out a put-upon sigh. “This one knows what spell it wants in its arsenal next.” “This one would like to learn that as well,” Puzzle agreed. “Warm clothing and a heat talisman are enough to make this survivable, but a spell to help deal with the worst parts would be welcome.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered. “Though it’s not as easy as it looks. Energy manipulation is one of those fields that can find dozens of unpleasant ways to go horribly wrong if you make even a small mistake.” “And such things are not needed regardless,” Sigil commented. “Ponies have lived here for centuries without needing a pyromancer to help them through the cold. All it takes is a bit of preparation and the right supplies.” “Yeah, but I’m gonna bet most of them weren’t trying to climb a mountain in the middle of winter while it’s snowing,” Strumming pointed out. “And the ones crazy enough to try it didn’t make as good of time as us. Plus they’re a lot more used to these conditions than we are.” Sigil grunted and refused to answer her, which was probably the closest he was willing to get to conceding that she raised a valid point. Strumming wasn’t about to let his silence keep her from speaking her mind. “Just saying, survival in Northmarch isn’t that different from survival anywhere else, apart from being colder. I’d like to see how you do in a desert with all that heavy fur.” “Not to mention the deep jungle beyond Zebrica,” Puzzle added. “This one would be quite happy to never have to deal with that much heat and humidity again. Not to mention the local wildlife was both large and unfriendly.” “At least Northmarch has plenty of the last,” Strumming chimed in. “Sure, your good old wargs and trolls aren’t quite as exotic as thunder lizards, but they’re still massive beasts that can do all kinds of nasty things to unprepared ponies. Not to mention the Blightspawn.” “Lady Argentium exterminated the last of those ages ago,” Sigil snapped. “There has not been a confirmed sighting in over a century.” “Which would be a lot more reassuring if they weren’t in the habit of killing everything and leaving no survivors behind,” Strumming countered. “Not to mention how much of Northmarch is uninhabited. There’s plenty of wilderness for a few of them to hide out in.” Kukri frowned and rubbed her chin. “This one heard something about them in her studies before the trip, but there wasn’t much information...” “They’re monsters that the dragon Blackfyre made to supplement Sombra’s forces during the war between the Crystal Empire and Equestria,” I explained. “Nasty things from what I’ve read,” Strumming agreed. “Take a normal creature, mix in some dark magic and a bit of dragon blood, and bam: instant abomination. They followed orders back when Blackie was around, but after Argentium and Celestia put him down for the count most of them turned feral.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Arguments aside, I sure hope Sigil’s right about all of them being gone, ‘cause knowing our luck we’re gonna end up running into them if any are left. It’s like Bacon has a huge sign over her head telling all the monsters and warlocks where she is.” “You are mistaken in one regard, Heartstrings-mare,” Puzzle murmured. “If the Shimmer-mare knew of a Blightspawn, she would doubtless feel obligated to hunt it down herself.” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Why do you make that sound like a bad thing? If there was some sort of ancient abomination creature going around ripping up innocent creatures, it’d be my job as a magus to deal with it.” I thought it over a moment, then shrugged. “I mean yeah, I’m not strictly obligated since I’m technically a Freeport Magus, but do you really think I’d let that stop me from saving lives?” “You can’t save the entire world,” Puzzle murmured darkly. “No,” I agreed. “But that’s no excuse for not saving what I can.” Kukri grinned up at me, only to duck her head back down and pull her hood tight. “How much further is it? This one feels like it’s about to freeze solid. Can we stop at the next cave and start a fire for a bit? Just until this one can feel its limbs again? And maybe have something warm to eat as well?” “Just a little further,” Sigil rumbled. “Be happy that the runestones lining the path keep the road from becoming completely impassable. In older times the way was far harder, to dissuade any who lacked the necessary conviction from disturbing the great Argentium.” “You’d think the fact that they’d be annoying a giant dragon that could swallow them in a single gulp would be incentive enough,” Strumming pointed out. “Then again, Celestia could probably do all kind of damage if she really wanted to and plenty of people still bug her about really stupid stuff. Maybe she needs to add a lava moat around Canterlot Castle?” “Spoken like somepony who has not been around enough volcanoes,” Puzzle countered with a grin. “Perhaps the Heartstrings-mare is not aware, but active volcanoes with flowing lava do not tend to smell pleasant.” “This one would be willing to endure any smell it needed to in exchange for some nice warm lava,” Kukri grumbled. “It would certainly prefer that to getting lost in a blizzard and freezing to death like a bugsicle.” “You don’t have to worry about that.” I nudged her and pointed forward. “We’re almost there. See?” The snow flurries parted for a few moments, giving us all a clear view of what lay ahead. A sheer cliff face lay before us, with a pair of massive doors sitting right in the middle of it. Flanking each side of the entrance were a pair of enormous statues of what was presumably Argentium herself. Normally I would’ve suspected that the statues were exaggerating her size, but the huge doors were sized for something as big as the statues themselves. Not to mention Puzzle had made a point of warning me that she really was that big. As we drew a bit closer I realized the doors were actually made out of wood. Considering they belonged to a giant fire-breathing lizard, that came as a surprise. Wood and fire generally didn’t mix, especially not when these wooden doors had a ton of intricate decoration and detailing. They had to have taken thousands of hours of craftsmanship, and a single breath from her could completely ruin them. It seemed like a huge risk. Or maybe that was the point? After all, I was a pyromancer and I’d never been shy about keeping flammable things in my tower. Maybe she had wooden doors to show the entire world just how much control she had. It would certainly fit with everything else I’d been told about her. Kukri had far more immediate concerns on her mind. “Oh thank the endless night, we’ve made it! Please tell this one it’s warmer in there.” Sigil opened up the doors, and blast of hot air that felt like an oven hit us. Kukri scampered past Sigil as soon as there was room for her. The rest of us tried to be a bit more dignified about it, but only a little. Normally decorum would’ve said we shouldn’t cross the threshold without a formal invitation, but even Sigil wasn’t stiff-necked enough to make us all wait outside for a point of ceremony. He waited until the doors were shut to say, “Be welcome as honored guests within the home of Argentium the Runescaled.” “Thank you.” As everyone started shedding coats and scarves, I tried to remember the old manners Celestia had hammered into me back when I’d thought all those lessons were stupid and pointless. “We are honored Argentium would welcome us within her home, and will conduct ourselves as guests within it.” Evidently that was close enough, since Sigil just nodded and carried on. “Between the hot springs below us and the enchantments Argentium laid for the comfort of her guests, I think you will find the caverns more to your liking. Save for her treasury, throne room, and private quarters, you are free to go where you wish within the caves. The staff would be happy to accomodate any reasonable request so long as they are not on an errand for the lady.” He shot a slight smirk Kukri’s way as he added, “Though they might consult the master if they think her apprentice is asking for things she should not have.” “I’m sure she wouldn’t take advantage of Argentium’s hospitality,” I said, directing a rather pointed look Kukri’s way. My apprentice met me with a smile that radiated so much innocence I knew she had to have been plotting something. Probably asking the servants for a bunch of her favorite food and sweets. Not that I was averse to spoiling her a little after she’d spent an entire week freezing, but there were reasonable limits; Knives and Codex were basically trusting me to act in loco parentis, so I kind of had to be a responsible pseudo-parent. Puzzle grimaced and massaged his limbs. “Remind this one to rethink ever visiting Northmarch during winter. Or at least humbly asking Argentium if she might prefer an alternative meeting location in a more hospitable climate.” Kukri groaned and stretched, luxuriating in the warm cavern air. “Remind this one to rethink visiting Northmarch again even if it’s the height of summer.” Her eyes flicked over to Sigil. “Er, no offence. This one just prefers a Freeport winter to a Northmarch one.” “We have a name for what Freeport calls winter,” Sigil answered dryly. “We call it summer.” I cleared my throat and tried to get things back on track. “Hopefully if Argentium ever wishes to meet with us again we can arrange something with a slightly more convenient time and location for everyone involved.” Granted, Argentium probably didn’t feel the slightest bit inconvenienced by waiting in her cave while we climbed a mountain to reach her, but pointing that out might not start things off on the right foot. Sigil still picked up on the implication, even if I was too nice to say it outright. “I’m sure Lady Argentium had reasons for the timing and for asking that you come to her rather than arrange another meeting place. She always does.” Strumming frowned and very carefully muttered under her breath. “And us mere mortals must bend to the whims of Dragon Timing.” “No kidding,” Kukri grumbled a bit less cautiously as she removed the last of her coats, leaving only the gambeson Strumming had given her. “This one’s curious what her reasons are. We’ve been travelling for almost a month to meet her, and a trip like this in the middle of winter is somewhere between inconvenient and dangerous.” A faint frown creased Sigil’s lips, and Puzzle took action before I could. “This one would remind you how to behave while we’re in Argentium’s home.” Judging by my apprentice’s baffled frown she didn’t quite get it. I stepped in to make sure she realized how serious this was. “Remember all that old fashioned hospitality stuff I told you about? Argentium takes it very seriously. That includes showing a host all the proper respect and deference they deserve while you’re a guest in their home.” Kukri’s ears drooped as the lesson sank in. “Right, right, sorry—this one’s brain’s still thawing. It’s coming back to this one now.” “Good.” I turned back to Sigil. “I apologize. I’m sure you’ll understand that my apprentice is tired and meant no offense with her words.” It irked me to have to ... well, I wasn’t exactly groveling, but it was definitely more than just a token apology. Especially since Kukri was really just saying what all of us were thinking. Argentium could’ve flown out to Freeport or Coldharbor to meet us without too much effort on her part, and saved us a lot of trouble. “I accept your apology on behalf of Argentium,” Sigil answered magnanimously. “The journey has been a long one. If you will excuse me, I shall arrange for refreshment. Make yourselves comfortable.” Once he’d left I took a bit to actually study the entryway. The scale of everything there was exactly as ridiculous as you’d expect for the home of a gigantic dragon: the chamber was so huge and the ceilings so high I wasn’t surprised to spot a few runes that kept and clouds or fog from forming. Naturally, Argentium’s entryway included all the usual displays of conspicuous wealth you’d expect from anyone with her resources. However, Argentium’s tastes were a bit more refined than most dragons. Instead of huge piles of gold and gems, the walls of her caverns had a collection of the finest art in the world. Paintings by Roanbrandt and Happy Tree, sculptures by Marecoangelo and vases by Amphora Potter were just the first things I noticed. I’d seen museums with less impressive collections. The centerpiece of her display was a massive tapestry that had to have been at least a thousand years old judging by who was in it, since any art portraying Luna and Celestia together had fallen out of fashion after Nightmare Moon. Judging by the armor they were both wearing along with Argentium, the whole thing had probably been made back during the war against Sombra and Blackfyre. Celestia looked different. Not in any immediately obvious physical way, but there was just something about her eyes and the way she carried herself. She looked ... young. Or at least, however much that term could be said to apply to an ageless immortal. There just seemed to be a sort of energy and vitality around her instead of the usual reserved wisdom I was used to. Maybe it was because she actually was over a thousand years younger, or maybe it was because she still had Luna. Or maybe it was both those things together with everything else, like the Lunar Rebellion and the Morning Wars. Strumming stepped up to my side, giving the tapestry a quick once-over. “Huh. So that’s what they looked like back in the day.” She picked up her half-eaten bag of chips and was halfway to eating another one when she grimaced and reluctantly closed the bag. “Okay, yeah. Hate to say it, but wacky funtime Strumming needs to go away and super-serious professional Strumming needs to come out.” She took a deep breath, then slowly straightened her stance. It was a strange sort of transformation as her lazy slouch shifted to stiff-backed attentive professionalism, and a quick flick of her wing brushed away a few crumbs from her previous snacks. When she spoke, even her voice sounded different. “I will follow your lead, Magus.” Kukri blinked and let out a low whistle. “Wow, you are serious.” “The situation is serious,” Puzzle explained. “Argentium is a being of considerable power, influence, and immense pride. As impressive as her hoard is, she values her image and reputation above any physical object. The slightest hint of rudeness or sarcasm could offend her and ruin this entire endeavour.” Kukri nodded along. “Serious and polite as serious and polite can be, got it.” Strumming fixed her with the sort of unamused glower that she was usually on the receiving end of. “This isn’t a joking matter, Kukri. Sunset is counting on you to conduct yourself like a proper apprentice. If you say something like you did earlier in front of Argentium herself, we will be out of here and walking home through the blizzard before you can blink.” Kukri flinched. “This one was just ... it was cold, tired and frustrated. But it isn’t stupid enough to say something like that in front of Argentium.” “You said it within her home, and in front of one of her servants,” Puzzle pointed out. “That’s almost as bad. Not to mention how keen a dragon’s senses are. Mind. Your. Words. You’re so small you wouldn’t even count as a snack to her.” Kukri grimaced and shrank down. “It’s... This one’s being serious. Even if it didn’t take the prospect of a dragon seriously, it’s not going to make the Shimmer-mare look bad.” “I know you won’t.” I gave her a quick pat on the back to reassure her after the mild lecture the other two had delivered. “They’re just playing it safe. Better to remind you a dozen times than have you slip up once.” “Right.” She seemed to perk back up at my praise, and took a moment to shift out of her cold weather form and into her usual default disguise—a miniaturized version of me. I still wasn’t sure what to make of that. I mean, the hero-worship was flattering, but it was just a little odd to see her going that far with it. However, this time her disguise left a bit to be desired. Her mane and tail were a bit of a mess. She frowned and tried to put them in order by shifting a few more times, but with no luck. “This one ... um, could I get a little help?” Seeing a miniaturized version of me looking so messy got me thinking, and quickly conjured up a plane of ice to check my own reflection. What I saw ... wasn’t great. Not that it was horrible, but I looked like I’d been camping out and walking through arctic wilderness for a week, and that after a couple weeks of living on a ship with limited hygiene opportunities. Fitting, since that’s exactly what I’d been doing. I hadn’t enjoyed a proper bath since I’d left Freeport, and a month of nothing more than quick rinses and cleaning spells had left me less than fit to visit an incredibly proud and prickly dragon. Strumming checked her own reflection, then sighed. “She just asked us to walk up here through a blizzard. If she would be that annoyed about us looking a little road weary, I imagine she intends to give us a bit to freshen up like a proper host.” “Indeed so.” Sigil strode back in, accompanied by a few other ponies and caribou. “Her Ladyship anticipated as much and will see you in the morning. The staff are already preparing quarters for you, and have arranged for refreshments in the meantime. Hopefully the remainder of the afternoon and evening will be enough to restore body and spirit.” Sigil led us into the next room, which was much more reasonably sized for non-dragons. Not that smaller rooms would lock Argentium out. From what Celestia and Puzzle had said, Argentium was quite capable of either reducing her size or taking on a relatively pony- or caribou-like form. She only really needed the full-size caverns for when she was sleeping or if she wanted to impress everyone with how huge she was. The central feature of the room was a massive banquet table loaded down with just about every type of food imaginable. And I do mean every type—I was pretty sure Argentium was showing off just how much research she’d put into our group, because a few of my old favorites from when I’d lived in Canterlot Palace and had access to Celestia’s chefs were sitting right next to several bags of Strumming’s favorite brand of chips. Kukri’s ears perked up and she trotted over to several large trays that seemed aimed at her. She started by grabbing a large mug of hot chocolate and a plate full of shrimp, then started to reach into her bag for her thymoplasm flask before Puzzle gently stopped her and pointed to a large decanter full of it. Thankfully, Kukri took the hint and accepted the ‘plasm our host was offering. Naturally, ignoring the host’s food and eating your own would be a huge slight on Argentium’s hospitality, as it would effectively be saying that the food she’d offered us wasn’t good enough. That, or it would be implying we thought she’d poisoned it. While it was unlikely to be an issue given the sheer quantity of food provided, we would also need to be careful not to completely clean out everything she’d offered as that might be seen as implying she hadn’t provided enough. Unless we were eating in West Zebrica or a rural earth pony community, where it was sometimes seen as an insult to not clean your plate since that implied the food wasn’t good... I was starting to remember why I’d never been at my most patient when it came to Celestia’s etiquette lessons. Even leaving aside the fact that I’d been a bit less mature back then, it was hard to keep all the different rules straight. Especially when different societies and classes and races all had their own rules, some of which contradicted other rules. If I could’ve gone back a few years and thumped my younger self over the head to make her pay more attention... I cleared my throat and turned to face Sigil. “Please let Argentium know that we thank her for her hospitality, and the excellent meal she has provided for us.” Sigil nodded politely. “I will convey your words to her at once. I imagine the staff should be more than able to see to any further needs you have.” “We will try not to be too much of a burden,” Strumming answered, securing a large plate of onion rings and sweet potato fries. She tried one of them and let out a low, appreciative murmur. “Oooh, my compliments to the chef.” Puzzle grinned as he loaded his own plate with several kebabs, grinning. “There is one good thing about having Argentium as a patron: she is a very fine host. The rules of hospitality impose as many duties upon her as they do on us.” One of the servants stepped up to Puzzle, carefully clearing his throat. “The Lady asked us to inquire as to whether you and Agent Heartsrings would wish to share quarters.” Puzzle and Strumming both paused, sharing a look. She shrugged, and a second later he followed suit. “This one sees no reason to trouble the staff with the bother of preparing two separate rooms when a single will suffice.” Strumming nudged him and whispered, “Makes it easier to keep warm at night too.” “Quite,” Puzzle agree with a dry smile. The servants either didn’t hear that byplay or chose to ignore it. “We will see to it, then.” One of them passed a single small runestone to each of us. “If you require assistance, merely activate this stone and one of us will be along to assist you shortly. As Sigil said, you are free to go anywhere other than Lady Argentium’s personal quarters, throne room and the treasury. We have already taken your coats for laundering, and Sigil said some of you would probably want to take advantage of the hot springs. Are there any other needs you anticipate?” I took a moment to swallow a bite of my eggplant parmigiana before answering. “Nothing I can think of at the moment, though Sigil was right about us wanting to use the hot springs.” Kukri nodded emphatically. “This one’s going to take full advantage of those as soon as it can. She frowned, looking back at the food. “Or as soon as it finishes eating. Or ... could it take some of the food down to the springs?” “I like the way this kid thinks,” Strumming said with a grin. “Though asking the staff to move all this food down to the springs seems like a bit much.” “I can just teleport it.” I started to cast the spell, only for it to fizzle. “...or I could if our host didn’t have her caverns dimensionally warded.” In hindsight, I probably should have seen that coming. Of course the ancient super-powerful dragon would have wards to prevent anyone from teleporting or opening a portal into her home. Especially given the size and value of her hoard. I sighed, feeling just a bit silly now that my attempt to show off had failed so spectacularly. “Okay, we’ll hit the hot springs once we’re done eating.” “That sounds like a fine plan to this one,” Puzzle agreed. “It can attest from past experience that the springs are most welcome way to relax and unwind after a long journey, especially one as cold as ours.”  I grinned and got back to my meal. “Well then ... let’s relax.” A day of rest and a good night’s sleep in a proper bed had done wonders for everyone’s spirits and appearances. Not to mention a day of availing ourselves of Argentium’s hospitality had nicely dispelled or at least suppressed any resentment over the long and uncomfortable journey. Maybe that was part of why the staff seemed to be going all-out to accommodate us. Sigil almost certainly would’ve told his mistress that we were a bit resentful about climbing up a mountain in the middle of winter. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who’s treating you to gourmet meals before letting you relax in her hot springs. We were just finished up a breakfast of fresh fruit and thin Northmarch-style pancakes when Sigil joined us. He quickly scanned the table to make sure he had our full attention before speaking up. “Magus Sunset, I trust you and your companions are feeling better?” “Much better,” I answered. “Thank you. And if you don’t mind, convey our thanks Lady Argentium for her excellent hospitality.” “You can tell Lady Argentium herself,” Sigil answered with a tight smile. “She would like to meet with you when you're ready.” “I’m re...” I was about to say now, but I’d told Kukri to leave her nice robes in her bag so she didn’t get them dirty at breakfast, and Strumming still had a bit of bed-mane. “Give us just a minute to prepare and we’ll be ready.” “Very well.” Sigil patiently stood by the door as we hustled off to our rooms to make sure we all looked presentable. Well, I mostly concerned myself with Kukri; Strumming was at least technically a responsible adult, and Puzzle could handle her regardless. I managed to get Kukri dressed up in her nice robes with only a few token grumbles from her, but had to shake my head when she shifted into her usual mini-me form. “No disguises today.” Kukri sighed and reverted to her natural state. “Let this one guess: wearing a different form than its natural one would be another violation of the rules of hospitality?” “Yup,” I confirmed. “Showing up to a first meeting in disguise is a bit rude, even if you’re not actually trying to conceal your identity or nature.” “That does make sense,” Kukri conceded reluctantly as she shifted back. “This one isn’t sure its robes look as good like this. Do the colors still match?” “You’re fine.” I gave her head-crest a quick pat, then shuffled her out the door. Puzzle and Strumming were already waiting for us, with Strumming seeming to be back in her unusually serious mode. It was strange how much a change in posture and facial expression completely altered her image. If she went around like that more often and spent less time slouching and looking lazily insolent, someone might actually mistake her for a proper EIS agent. Sigil looked us over, then nodded to himself. “If you’re all ready?” We nodded, and lead the way through the hallways until we exited into the massive open cavern once more. This time he took us through a huge sculpture garden, and then a second chamber where the titanic walls and ceilings had been turned into several presumably life-sized frescoes showing off Argentium’s various accomplishments. Many of them focused on her leadership during the war against the Crystal Empire, while others showed her helping the caribou construct their cities or training them in the art of runecasting. Kukri scanned through the various figures on the wall, trying to find one face in particular. “Do you see Torch among her students, Shimmer-mare?” I quickly looked the various ponies learning from Argentium over, but didn’t spot anyone who matched the paintings and sculptures I’d seen of Torch Charger. I was about to tell her that the students were probably just an artists rendering rather than a perfect copy of her actual historical students when I spotted one uncomfortably familiar face. I’d only ever known one unicorn mare with a light blue coat, a crimson mane done in two thick braids, and a surprising amount of raw muscle for a magus. I could’ve done without the reminder. Thankfully, there was something to distract me from that waiting in the next room. While the chamber Sigil led us to was by far the most finely decorated we’d seen so far, I don’t think any of us were looking at the paintings hanging up on the walls. The dragon sitting on a massive throne in the middle of the room demanded our attention. Argentium was ... big. No, a word like ‘big’ doesn’t even begin to capture the scale of just how large she was. Puzzle hadn’t been kidding when he said she could swallow Kukri in a single gulp. She could probably eat any of us in a single bite, though the only thing the adults had going for them was she might need to chew. The next thing I noticed were the scales that she named herself for. So far as I could tell, every single one of her shimmering silver scales had a rune inscribed in it. It must have taken her years to pull off, and she probably needed to constantly refresh the runes as she shed scales and continued to grow. That kind of dedication to detail took a lot of work. Argentium turned her massive horned head down to face us, smiling. There was something odd about her smile, and it took me a second to figure out what it was: she was making a clear effort to hide her fangs. Given how large and sharp they doubtless were, a smile showing them off probably would have been less welcoming than intended. Sigil stepped forward and bowed, obviously not phased by her sheer presence the way the rest of us were. “Lady Argentium the Runescaled, I bring before you your guests, Freeport Magus Sunset Shimmer, her apprentice Kukri Doo, and Mister Puzzle Piece of Freeport along with his paramour Strumming Heartstrings of the Equestrian Intelligence Service.” Argentium glanced to Puzzle and nodded, then fixed her attention fully upon me. “Magus Sunset, you may approach.” I stepped up, doing my best to hide any sign of being impressed or intimidated by her titanic size. It took a lot of work. If not for the fact that Kukri was blatantly gawking at her I probably would’ve had a harder time resisting the urge to do so myself. One of the benefits of having an apprentice, they could have all those little imperfections a proper magus was supposed to be too good for. Argentium grinned and drew herself up to her full height, the light glittering off her scales. “I take it this is your first time seeing a greater dragon, Kukri Doo? I don’t blame you for being impressed.” Kukri stared up at her and squeaked out. “You are kinda ... big.” Argentium snorted softly, sending a small burst of white-blue flame out her nostrils. “I prefer the word ‘magnificent’.” Kukri let out another nervous squeak, and I swooped in to keep her from being completely overawed by Argentium. “That too. And several dozen other words I could think. I’ve heard descriptions, but words fall far short of the reality.” She answered me with a slight inclination of her head, as if to show that while the blatant flattery didn’t impress her, the effort was appreciated nonetheless. “Thank you for your kind words, and for answering my summons so swiftly. I trust that the journey was not too trying, and that my hospitality has sufficed?” “We are honored to be your guests,” I answered deferentially. Puzzle nudged me and pointedly glanced down at the lump within my robes that contained her gift. I shot a faintly annoyed glare his way; I didn’t need the reminder. I pulled the wrapped package out and it to Argentium. “I bring you this small item as a token of my appreciation.” Her eyes immediately focused on the item in my hooves. “Now what do we have here?” One of her massive claws reached over and plucked the present out of my grasp with surprising delicateness. She brought it up to eye level and carefully unwrapped it, somehow managing to get the paper off without tearing it a single time. Most ponies couldn’t even do that, let alone a creature as huge as she was. Once she had the book in her claws she looked it over and smiled. “Ah, a most rare tome indeed. My thanks, this is a fine gift.” “It is only a small token of my esteem,” I answered, trying to remember if Celestia’s advice for giving gifts to dragons was to play up their value to make it seem better, or downplay it so you didn’t start getting into an ego contest. Whichever of the two I was supposed to do, Argentium seemed to find my answer satisfactory. She smiled and nodded, carefully setting the tome down on one of her bookshelves. “The thought behind the gift is far more important than the thing itself. Though I do wonder how such a tome ended up in Freeport.” “A dealer in rare books and other antiquities came into possession of it,” I answered. I decided not to mention the explosion at the book collector’s shop. No need to bring up macabre details that weren’t really relevant. “I see.” She frowned thoughtfully, then nodded to herself. “A great many things seem to find their way into Freeport.” “There’s a reason Freeport likes to call itself the crossroads of the world,” I pointed out. I wisely left out that it also had a reputation for being a good place to sell off anything whose provenance was somewhat dubious. “That is one of many things I have heard said about it,” Argentium murmured. “In any event, when I have the time to spare I am sure I will read and enjoy your book. It has always been fascinating to see how historians analyze events I experienced first hand.” She turned away from the bookshelf, focusing her full attention on me. “For now, however, I have a story in front of me whose ending has yet to be written. I confess have been most curious to meet you. Tales of the Magus of Freeport have been heard even this far north, if a bit scattered.” I decided to stick with modesty, since it had gone over well so far. “I had no idea my reputation was so widespread.” “My ears do go far and wide.” She smirked at Puzzle. “Not to mention that your companion is one of several agents I compensate to aid with a few minor tasks and help me keep abreast of events in the wider world. And, of course, I continue to correspond regularly with your former teacher. Celestia retains a keen interest in you.” “I noticed.” My eyes naturally flicked over to the EIS spy she’d sent to keep an eye on me. There were quite a few things I didn’t buy about Strumming’s tall tales when it came to her role in the EIS and its hierarchy, but the one thing I was ninety nine percent sure about was that she was serving as Celestia’s eyes and ears to keep an eye on me. Argentium cleared her throat and flicked a claw through the air. “However, just as you said earlier, there is a great difference between seeing something for yourself and hearing it described to you by another.” Kukri looked back and forth between the two of us, then slowly raised a hoof like a schoolfilly. Argentium cocked her head to the side curiously, then nodded. “Yes, Kukri? Did you have something you wanted to ask?” My apprentice took a deep breath, then nervously squeaked out. “Pardon this one for speaking up, but it would like to say something: Magus Sunset has saved this one’s life more than once. She is a hero and the best mare this one has ever known. She even gave it the chance to study magic as her apprentice, and this one is proud to be her student. It, um ... this one just thought it needed to say that, so ... um ... it has.” She sat there, a hint of a blush slowly building up through her carapace. Argentium chuckled, the sound surprisingly soft and gentle considering how massive she was. “It seems you have quite the proud apprentice, Magus.” I smiled and gave Kukri a pat on the back. “And an apprentice I'm quite proud of.” “Clearly.” Argentium leaned back in her throne, looking me over. “However, it is not your past acts that concern me. By all accounts you have established yourself in Freeport and done good work there, but I cannot imagine one of Celestia’s former students would content herself with such modest goals. Your mother is a mare of incredible ambition, and by all accounts that is one trait she passed on to you: the drive to do great things, and to make still more of yourself. The question, then, is what the fire in your belly and hunger in your soul will drive you towards.” With a smile that showed just a hint of fang, she concluded. “Beings with both high ambition and the power to make their dreams reality can achieve great things. Or terrible ones. I would know which you will be.” Well that was a loaded question, and one I wanted to take a moment to make sure I answered correctly, considering a bad answer could have her looking at me like a nascent Sombra or Nightmare Moon. Instead of answering right away, I temporized. “I’m sure you’ve traded notes with Celestia about me at some point, and I’m also sure that included what she had in mind for me.” “That she intended to set you down the path to becoming an alicorn?” Argentium asked. “Yes, I am aware. I also know that you made a point of leaving her several years ago to blaze your own trail rather than follow the one she set out for you.” Kukri stared at me, her jaw just about hanging on the floor. I belatedly realized that I’d never actually mentioned that to my apprentice. I tended to not talk a lot about what I’d learned from Celestia when I was training her. Strumming already knew, and Puzzle didn’t seem the least bit shocked by the news, but Kukri ... well, that little revelation would probably just encourage her hero-worship even more. However, I had a question to answer and a dragon who didn’t like waiting. After thinking it over a bit longer, I decided to just be honest with her. “I ... honestly don’t know where exactly I’m going. I’ve got goals, but the pathway to get to them isn’t as clear as I’d like and so far I haven’t had much luck with making progress towards them. “A refreshingly self-aware answer,” Argentium noted. “Often the problem lies not in finding what we want in life, but rather identifying the best means of achieving it. Wanting to become an alicorn is simple enough, but actually obtaining ascension...” The dragon grinned down at me. “Fortunately for you, one thing Celestia and I have in common is a certain level of experience in guiding eager young minds.” I was briefly tempted to argue the point about me being young, but I suppose everyone is young to a being whose age can be measured in millenia. Besides, advice from an ancient dragon was always worth listening to, and it could make a great way to shift the conversation towards my school-building plans. “Are you really now? Sounds interesting. I did have a few ideas I wouldn't mind running by you...” “Certainly.” Argentium leaned back in her massive throne. “By all means, share your thoughts. Often simply discussing an idea makes it far stronger than brooding over it within the silence of your own mind.” “Great.” I took a deep breath, then started my pitch. “So, I was thinking of starting up a school in Freeport. Magical education in the islands has a lot of room for improvement, not to mention we have some unique geographic advantages. Being the crossroads of the world means more than just trade in physical goods, since there’s also ideas. Imagine an academy where a dozen different magical traditions meet and mix together.” Argentium nodded along. “Fostering new minds is always an admirable goal. I have found that ignorance and lack of guidance often causes far more damage than active malice.” “Exactly,” I agreed. “But, getting back to what you said earlier, there’s a big gap between wanting to open a magic academy and actually making it happen. Building a school takes time, personnel, and considerable resources. “Something I know all too well, yes.” Argentium ran a claw under her chin. “I have occasionally given thought to making a proper institution in Northmarch, but much as I enjoy fostering a few talented individuals I have never shared Celestia’s fondness for ... institutions. The old system of master and apprentice has sufficed for Northmarch.” Her massive shoulders rolled in an uncaring shrug. “But Equestria and Freeport might have different needs. You think you can build a suitable school in the islands?” Kukri felt the need to jump in and support me. “She’s a fantastic teacher! This one’s learned more about magic in a year than it could otherwise hope to in a decade, and that’s even after all the complications from teaching a different species! The Shimmer-mare is ... um...” She trailed off as she slowly realized she’s just interrupted us. “Um ... really good? Sorry, this one will be quiet now.” Argentium politely ignored Kukri’s outburst, keeping her attention on me. “I suppose the Council hasn’t been eager to help you, have they?” She snorted. “Pity. They began with such promise, but time seems to dull the focus of any mortal institution. Where once they sought to change they world for the better, now they seem to care only for preserving what they have.” I grimaced and nodded. “They made some noises about how they weren’t sure I had enough proven experience, but I think a lot of it was that they just didn’t want to take a chance. Why invest in something without guaranteed returns?” “A wise policy if you seek to preserve what you already have, but not one that lends itself to growth. Great things are rarely accomplished without risk.” Argentium’s eyes flicked over me. “If the Council will not help, then there only two options: either you gather the resources you need to build your school elsewhere, or you go someplace else that would be more welcoming to your proposal.” I shrugged. “Pretty much how it looks to me. Getting the independent wealth to run my own school would be hard, and outside investors will want something in exchange for all that money.” The Council doubtlessly would too, but at least with them I could be reasonably sure their agenda and mine lined up. Freeport would reap obvious benefits from having a corps of trained magi, and making the islands a locus of magical learning would obviously attract new trade in magical items and crafting. Not to mention the prestige that would come with being a very large and successful magic academy. With private investors, agendas got a lot fuzzier. “That does leave you in an unenviable position,” Argentium continued. “No money to obtain your goals in Freeport, and it sounds as if your plans would not be half so well served in any other location.” “Not that it’s stopped the offers from coming in.” When I saw Argentium’s curious look I elaborated. “Celestia wants me to come back and teach at her school for a while.” “Little surprise.” Argentium chuckled. “She would like to have you closer to home, and a bit more experience in education would make you seem far more qualified.” “It’s perfectly logical,” I agreed. “Not sure if it’s what I want, though.” “And why not?” I hesitated, trying to find the best way to explain it. “Because I want to handle this on my own. If I have to go back to Celestia for help...” “Of course, you wish to be independent.” The dragon fixed me with a piercing gaze. “That rather begs the question of which of your goals is more important. Is this about making a school, or about proving yourself?” I thought about that for a second. “The two go hand-in-hand. Making the school is part of proving myself. There’d be no point if I was just parroting Celestia’s old lessons and doing it all only because she was helping me.” I sighed and ran a hoof through my mane. “But ... I do want to make it happen, and just taking a little help from her doesn’t mean I’m not accomplishing anything on my own. Argentium nodded along. “Then it sounds like you want to take the harder path, so long as it isn’t so hard that you fail. You want Celestia’s help, but fear that accepting it might diminish your own achievements or temper your ambition.” “I guess, yeah,” I grimaced and tried to think of the best way to explain it. “It’s ... I want this to be my magic academy, not Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns Mk. II, and oh yeah—her student Sunset Shimmer helped set it up.” “No small distinction,” Argentium agreed, inclining her head to me. “It would be far too easy for her presence to overshadow yours. It is no small part of why I prefer a less direct role in my rule over Northmarch. You left for Freeport to establish yourself, and now you fear going back on that, even if I doubt Celestia intends to strip away all that you have achieved.” “I don’t think she’d ever do that on purpose,” I agreed. “It’s not like she’s got some master plan to take away my independence. It’s just ... she just wants to help, but that’s the thing: I don’t want to spend the rest of my life having her help me out. I don’t mind the help when I really need it, or getting some good advice, but...” “You want to fly free,” Argentium concluded. “Better a unicorn blazing her own trail than an alicorn who is just a lesser royal serving beneath her old teacher.” “Yeah.” I frowned and shook my head. “Though really, I’d think you’d need to do more than follow lessons and be a good flunky to ascend. What’s the point of being an alicorn who’s just doing all the same things a unicorn could?” “Just so.” Argentium nodded. “You wish to take your power out into the world, to remake it to your own desires rather than merely exist. That is the source of your frustration with the Council, and why you fear a return to Canterlot. Both restrain you from achieving your true goals in life.” She leaned forward. “Though I wonder how much of this is about improving Freeport, and how much is about becoming an alicorn.” I thought it over, then shrugged. “Once again, the two goals are tied together. I don’t know all the details, but being a good pony doing good things is a pretty big part of making it to alicorndom.” “True enough.” Argentium frowned thoughtfully. “Of course, many philosophers would say that if your good works stemmed from a selfish motive, they would never truly be good. Having an impure motive would taint your every action.” “I’ve always been more of a consequentialist,” I answered. “If I make Freeport a better, happier, and more prosperous place, what does it matter if I hoped to get something out of it? It’s not like me becoming an alicorn would undo all the good I’d accomplished. If anything, it would make it even easier for me to do more.” Strumming cleared her throat, then carefully spoke up. “In my experience, completely pure motivations are vanishingly rare. Even if you cut out all the people who do charity for the praise and adulation, most of them do it because they enjoy helping. Thinking about how righteous and self-sacrificing you are is incredibly satisfying.” “That much is true.” Argentium looked over my entire group. “You have given me a great deal to think about. I wish to take some time to meditate on this before I decide if I shall take any action on the matter. Freeport has always been a rather complicated nation, and the type of changes you propose could radically alter its destiny. An alicorn in command of her own magic academy could change everything.” “That’s the idea,” I pointed out. “And an alicorn who is less than fully satisfied with the current government and has an army of loyal battle-mages supporting her could change even more,” Argentium concluded with a knowing grin. “At least you have ambition worthy of your legacy.” “My legacy?” I asked. “Your origins, specifically,” she not-quite explained. “You mean the fact that I’m from Equestria?” “More specifically, your teacher and parents,” Argentium clarified. “Even if Celestia is not quite so ambitious as she was when she still had her sister at her side, there are times when the old fires burn bright in her eyes.” I nodded along. “Celestia’s been a huge influence. I know we butted heads at times, but she was a great teacher and a wonderful mother to me after...” I decided it might be better not to start complaining about my birth parents in front of Argentium. It wasn’t exactly dignified, and my birth mother had studied under her. I’d evidently given away a bit too much already, because Argentium was staring down at me with a slight frown. “I see. That is indeed how it stands.” “Meaning?” “I am sure you aware that your mother was one of my students,” Argentium explained. “It is only natural I would be curious how things stood between you and your parents.” “My parents.” I didn’t want to sound too argumentative, but there were some matters I had to take a stand on. “I assume you mean Scarlet Runeseeker and Solar Shimmer? I haven’t seen or heard from them in years, even before I left Canterlot.” I let that sit just long enough to make my point before concluding. “Things are fine with me and Celestia.” Argentium’s frown deepened. “I see.” I took a deep breath and made sure I didn’t sound terse after she’d touched on a few sensitive topics. “Was there anything else you wanted to know?” She shook her massive head. “I think that is enough for right now. My apologies for touching on what appears to be a rather complicated personal issue. However, I hope that my reasons for doing so will be clear soon enough.” “You have nothing to apologize for,” I answered diplomatically. “Though if you don’t mind my asking, what do you mean about your reasons?” Argentium rose from her throne, and with a careful flick of her tail pulled open the door to one of her inner chambers. “We are ready for you, Scarlet.” I tensed as a mare I hadn’t seen for years and would’ve been perfectly fine never seeing again strode into the room. She looked a bit older than the image I’d seen in the fresco on Argentium’s wall, but that was mostly just a few subtle age lines and her muscles not being quite as well defined. And the archmagus cloak she had on was unmistakable. Scarlet Runeseeker, my birth mother, stared at me neutrally. “Hello, Sunset.”