//------------------------------// // Chapter 15- The Onset of Trouble // Story: Restart // by Alden MacManx //------------------------------// It was on my fourth trip to Canterlot that the first signs of trouble started rising. This trip, Accurate Strike came along with me, because he wanted to visit the Solar Guard headquarters to talk about senbons, which are becoming popular with the Guard in Ponyville. I had an arrangement to take the train up one day, spend the night at the Castle in company with the Princesses, then head to Topspin Productions to make the records, a chore which would take all day to do. I would then spend another night at the Castle before training home to Ponyville the next morning. The train trip to Canterlot went without a hitch, as did the first night at the Castle, arriving early enough to chat with the Princesses before catching some sleep. They liked my slightly irreverent tone with them, never going to disrespect, but treating them like I treated everypony else, with just a touch more respect. I would never call them anything but ‘Princess’ for Celestia and ‘Luna’ for Luna, but only when we were chatting alone. The next morning, after breakfast, I’m walking to Topspin Productions when I encountered a crowd of ponies in my path. Skirting the crowd, I spotted four ponies fighting, two of which were City Guard trying to break up the other two. I gave it a glance as I made my way past. Suddenly, it felt like the Jolly Green Giant’s flashbulb went off in front of my face. Yes, I was wearing my hat and shades, but still, the intensity of the light caused so much pain to my eyes, I screamed loud enough to shred something in my throat before I passed out. I woke up to darkness as well as an ache in my head that wasn’t severe, but a real annoyance. My throat felt like I was gargling used razor blades, and I became aware of some unusual twinges along my barrel. I let out a grunt of surprise as I came to, which was followed by a voice I knew too well. “Mister Tristan, how do you feel?” “Doctor Makeswell? Where am I?” I managed to rasp. “You are back at Canterlot Castle. You were rather viciously attacked when you were near Topspin Productions. First, some pony cast a flash spell, not in front of you, but on your sunglasses directly. After that, you were beaten rather severely before two of the Solar Guard spotted the commotion and investigated. Most of the perpetrators escaped, but one was captured and is being questioned now,” I was told before I felt a straw in my mouth. “Have some of this.” I sipped, and whatever was in that drink did wonders on my throat. I sipped again, and the razor blades vanished. “Why is it dark in here?” I asked. “I have your eyes covered right now. They will need to remain covered until tomorrow morning at the least before I remove the bandages. Your eyes were severely burned by the flash attack. They will heal, but you need some time yet,” the doctor said, sounding as if he was delivering a pronouncement from On High. I thought ‘thank you very much, Major Winchester’, as his bedside manner has yet to improve. “Where are my saddlebags?” I asked. “From what I have heard, they were found nearby, having been torn off your body. The contents were scattered about. That accounts for the cuts and scrapes on your barrel and legs. They are healing, not to worry.” “When it comes to healing, you are one of the few ponies I trust to do it right, Doctor Makeswell. I may not like you personally, but professionally, you have my respect,” I told him. “Thank you for saying so, Tristan. For now, get some more rest. Princess Celestia will be up soon. She will be able to answer many of your unspoken questions.” “Before you go, what time is it?” I asked. “Fifteen minutes until five. You have been unconscious for over nine hours. I kept you that way to promote healing. Feel free to yell later, when you can see me, so you can aim your picturesque language in the proper direction. If you need anything, your guard will bring it to you,” Makeswell told me. “My guard?” I asked. That’s when I heard Accurate Strike speak. “I will be here until you get the bandages removed. You need anything, say so.” “Why are you here, Strike?” I felt him sit down next to the bed, leaning up against it. “I thought you would prefer having a friend here with you. It’s no problem. Just relax,” he told me, taking my hoof in his glow. “Thank you for being here. Have you let Twilight and the rest know?” I asked. “Oh, yes. Princess Celestia sent her a message shortly after you were brought in. They arrived here via teleport and have been searching for the ponies behind your beating. Princess Celestia personally questioned the one we captured,” he said in a tone of voice that said I really should not press farther now. “Any reporters?” “One photographer happened to be nearby when she saw the flash. She did manage to take some photos of the crowd. I don’t know anything more.” “This is going to get ugly. Anything I could have done different? I had no warning at all…” Strike sighed. “Sometimes, even fools get lucky,” he said. When he said that, a cold chill ran down my body, from my horn down to my tail. “Fools. I’m going to suggest the known compatriots of a certain pony I have become acquainted with should be questioned.” “Blueblood?” Strike said. “Somepony thought of that hours ago. I have not heard any results yet.” I groaned and laid back on the bed. “I hate it when I’m right.” Strike stayed with me, holding my hoof, talking to me for some time before I heard a door open. I could feel Strike stand, then I heard a voice, one of the most wonderful voices I know. “Do sit down, Lieutenant. I won’t be long.” “Princess Celestia, please forgive me for not bowing to you. Then again, I’m not entirely certain which way you are, so I think I should be given a waiver in this case,” I said in a calm voice, aimed almost precisely opposite to where I am sure she is. Celestia laughed in a demure fashion. “Keep that up, Tristan. Your good humor despite all that happens is refreshing,” she told me as she took a place next to the bed. “Do I dare ask about the results of your investigations?” “You may ask, but I doubt you would like the results,” she said flatly. Immediately, I started sweating some. “I hate it when I’m right,” we said simultaneously. “The one assaulter that was captured did not know much, only that he was paid a hundred bits by somepony to, and I use his words, ‘mess you up some’. No, he did not know who it was who gave him the money. He knew who you are, and he said he did not cast the spell on you. That we believe, because he is an earth pony. The flash was his cue to move in, along with several others,” Celestia told me. “What are Twilight and the others doing?” I asked. “Looking for the unicorn who cast the spell. Every spell can be traced, it’s just that tracking down the caster, if the searcher does not know the caster, can be difficult, especially in a city composed primarily of unicorns,” Celestia said to me. I did not say anything for a moment or so. “I have some ideas on that score, but I will wait for a more appropriate time. How about tracing Blueblood’s associates?” “That will take some time, especially because we have no connection to any of them,” Celestia told me before adding a word. “Yet.” “Princess, thank you for the report. May I ask that when Princess Twilight or any of the others report in, that I be informed?” I asked. “But of course, Tristan. Now, get some more rest. It speeds healing. Besides, you look ridiculous with that hood on over your bandages,” Celestia said with a slight giggle. “I’m gonna moiderize Makeswell for this…” I said, pointing to the head wrap, which not only increased Celestia’s giggles, it sparked Accurate Strike into laughing as well. My opinions on Makeswell, both personal and professional, were well known. “Word will be sent when Twilight Sparkle reports back in, Tristan. I’ll tell Luna before I retire for the night.” “Sleep well, Princess. May I hope for the same,” I replied, bowing slightly from my position, deliberately aiming away from Celestia. “May your attitude never change, Tristan. It is so refreshing to me,” Celestia said before departing. When I heard the door shut, I relaxed, and Strike started to laugh. “Just how do you get away with such things with Princess Celestia?” he asked when he stopped laughing. “I treat her like I would treat anypony else, Strike,” I told him, relaxing back into the bed. “She may be awesome, but she does not overawe me. I respect her, not worship her, and she knows it. That’s how I can do what I do with her.” “I envy you, Tristan.” We chatted for a while longer, then he fed me a light dinner. I found that trying to use telekinesis with my lights out requires a lot more practice than I had on the subject. After some more talk, I dozed off. I woke up when somepony shook me. “Tristan, wake up,” I heard. “Twilight? What time is it?” I mumbled. “Almost midnight. You wanted a report when we were done?” Twilight told me. I came fully awake and turned my face in her direction. “Good news, bad news, or just news?” “We got a reading on the unicorn who cast the flash spell on you, and we’ve been looking. We followed a lead, got a name, but we can’t find her.” “Her? Who is she?” I asked. “Her name is Obsidian Sands. She has a tenuous connection with another unicorn of our acquaintance…” Twilight trailed off bitterly. “Is that a fact?” I asked. “Why can you not find her?” “We think she skipped town right after the attack. It is known she can’t teleport yet, so she must have caught a train,” Twilight told me. “Or walked or caught an airship flight or chariot out. If Blueblood is behind this, he could have had her spirited away right after, to deny evidence. What I want to know is, what are they after?” I asked. “I think that should be obvious, Tristan. Your phone, which contains all your music. He thought you had it in your bags, while you carry it someplace else, a place only you and one other can access,” Twilight replied, a little irritation creeping into her voice. “Yes, and if you don’t want something heard…” I said, waiting for Twilight’s follow-up, which arrived right on cue. “…don’t say it.” I taught her that phrase, and she took it to heart, along with a bunch of other odd turns of phrase I will mention when I damn well feel like doing so, thank you. “Twilight, get some sleep, and we can follow up tomorrow.” “What do you mean ‘we’, Kemosabe? You are staying right here until Doctor Makeswell says you can leave, and not one second before!” Twilight snapped back at me, using a line I used on her more than once. It stings when it gets turned around. My face fell into a frown. “If you insist, Princess. I will stay here, and Accurate Strike will make sure of that. Right, Strike?” I asked. “Got that right, Tristan. You are not leaving this suite until I get the go-ahead from the doctor.” “Well, then, how about you help me up and guide me to the john? I gotta go!” I snapped. “I’ll leave you two to that chore. I’m going to bed. Good night, Tristan,” Twilight said, definitely cranky and tired. I wished her a good night as she walked out, not quite slamming the door. Strike helped me do my business. “She’s upset, all right,” Strike said as he led me back to bed. “She is and she’s not going to let me forget it anytime soon. I’ll appeal to her logic later. Right now, she needs sleep, and so do you. I’ll just lie here and fake it.” Accurate Strike used his glow to get me up and settled into bed. “Fake it? You are going to sleep, not fake it!” he told me firmly. “Strike, I just woke up! There is no way I’m going to…” I remember protesting before a wave of sleepiness the size of the wave that hit Sumatra on Boxing Day some years back rolled over me and I passed out. I didn’t know then that Strike also had passed Field Medic training and knew some general anesthesia spells. Just when you think you know a pony… I did not wake up until noon, when Doctor Makeswell was removing the bandages. I could not be sure if he was holding my head up or twisting my head OFF. I let out a squawk of protest, and he told me in his oh-so-cultured way, “I suggest you hold still, Mister Tristan. I’m working to restore your sight. That is worth any small discomfort along the way, yes?” I could only let out some chokes and gasps until I felt the bandaging come off, and his grip on my head relaxed. “Now, keep your eyes closed,” he commanded in a doctor voice. I heard the curtains closing, then felt something get tossed over me, like a heavy quilt. “Open your eyes,” Makeswell commanded. Slowly, I did, blinking furiously to get the gunk out that had built up there. I became aware of a dim glow, which grew brighter until I could make out Makeswell’s head under the blanket with me, his horn glowing. “Do you see me now?” “Yes, I do. Whatever you did worked, for which you have my thanks.” I told him with as much sincerity as I could muster up. “I’m going to require you to wear dark over-glasses for the next few days, to allow your eyes a chance to heal some more. It’s that or staying in the dark for two more days. Which would you prefer?” Makeswell asked in his snootiest tones. “Wearing the dark over-glasses, of course. Can they be warded so no more flash spells on the lenses?” I asked. Makeswell snorted. “Goes to show you have some sense. These are warded like that, and once your eyes heal, bring me your other glasses so I can treat them as well. They are going to have to get more creative next time!” “I apologize for cutting into your social circuit time, Doctor,” I told him with a little acerbity. “I’ll try not to let it happen again.” “Good to see you are returning to the disturbed state you call normal, Tristan,” he replied in similar tones. “Shut your eyes, I will remove the blanket and fit the over-glasses on you. Then you may look around.” “Sounds like a plan, Doctor,” I said as I complied with his orders. We have a love-hate relationship, as I said earlier. We share respect of each other skills, but personally, we can’t stand each other, and do not hide that fact. The blanket was removed, and I felt something slip over my head and settle into place. When told, I opened my eyes. I could see perfectly through the over-glasses, but the light I saw was dimmer than I knew it should have been, but without the darkening tinted lenses would give. “A little different, yes?” Makeswell said. “I should say so,” I commented as I got out of bed and headed to a mirror. At first glance, I could not see anything over my eyes, then I realized there were clear half-globes attached to a strap the same color as my fur, rendering it almost unnoticeable. The protective lenses were almost invisible at first glance. I nodded at my image, impressed. “Not bad at all, Makeswell. I can hardly tell they are there.” “That is the point, yes? Credit me with a little bit of sense.” “I will, for now. I’m still waiting on the check for the rest of your sense.” Makeswell let out a snort. “It’s a good thing we respect each other, Tristan, or I might get a bit upset with you.” “With your professional demeanor? I highly doubt you ever get upset with a patient while you are treating them,” I said back to him. “It’s when I’m NOT treating you that you should worry, Tristan.” “Why do you think we never meet socially unless someone is around? I’m not going to give you a chance!” I laughed. Makeswell smiled at that line. “I never think you’re dumb, Tristan. You just think different than I do. Must be why the Princesses like you so much.” “I’ve said this before, I treat them with respect, not awe. They are wonderful ladies I am honored to call my friends. Maybe someday we can reach that stage, you and me,” I said, turning to look at Makeswell. “In your dreams,” he snorted. “That’s where I practice, Makeswell. Thank you for the glasses, and rest assured I will wear them until you can treat the other sets,” I told the bigger unicorn. With the lenses, only brightness was dimmed, not the colors. “You are quite welcome, Tristan. Do try to be careful, will you? This time, you had a good reason to need treatment. Other times, not so much,” he said snootily before departing. “You let him have the last word?” Strike asked. “This time, he earned it. Now, shall we go and raid the Royal Kitchens?” I said, making my slightly wobbly way out of the room. Being in bed for over a day, it takes a few minutes to get steady again on your feet. Well, it does for me… Over lunch, we got an update on the search for Obsidian Sands, which essentially boiled down to she had skipped town without leaving a trail. The news was irritating, but not unexpected. I know of ways to skip town without leaving traces, it all depends on the amount of effort one wants to put into it. After lunch, Strike and I went out, first to replace my casual saddlebags, in dark blue this time instead of red, then off to Topspin’s for a reschedule. Topspin was glad I had recovered from the attack and asked where my trademark sunglasses are. I told him I am wearing what the doctor gave me, and I will wear them until he says I could go back to normal. We rescheduled our session for the next day, but I wanted to record some tracks not for general release, but to make some for a specific pony, a friend named Vinyl Scratch. They were not tunes I would release to the public, but some tracks I knew she would enjoy, having played them for her and getting her enthusiastic approval. I think it was her throwing herself at my hooves and begging, but I’m not sure. I also had two tracks cut for her roomie, Octavia. I did not have much classical that was not organ, but I found what I had and printed them off. With Strike by my side, walking through the city became far less worrisome. Strike wore his undress uniform, which pretty much announced the fact ‘do not mess with this pony, you may not live to regret it’. Strike got a good laugh when I told him my thoughts. “Not too far from the truth,” he said. That night, I dined with the Princesses, Strike, Twilight and the ladies. They did not have much to report, having looked for the ponies pictured in the few photos from the scene of the attack but coming up completely empty-hoofed. Obsidian Sands also vanished like a will-o-the-wisp. I announced that my next recording session is rescheduled for the next day, and that I would keep up my routine. “After all, if I let our opposition dictate my patterns, they win. No, I’m going to be me, no matter what.” I declared. “It is to be hoped you make some changes in your routine, so as not to be predictable,” Luna said in cautionary tones. “I shall endeavor to be predictably unpredictable, Princess. Let them make the next move. Every attempt leaves more clues to trace the perpetrators,” I said. “With Captain Accurate Strike as your personal guard, you will be much safer,” Celestia declared. Strike looked like he had been slapped across the face. “Princess, I’m just a lieutenant,” he said. “No longer. You are now a captain, in charge of Tristan’s security. You may draft whatever resources you think are necessary to safeguard Tristan. He and his music are positive forces for change, and we wish to keep it that way,” Celestia said, looking to her fellow alicorns in the room and getting slow nods of confirmation. “So, you are going from the Terror Trainer to my personal demon, eh?” I quipped. “I’ll struggle to cope with the load.” Strike mock-glared across the table. “Got that right, you independent cuss! I’ll shackle you right proper!” he called back. I started humming a tune as I ate some more of the dinner. “Just what is that tune?” Rarity asked. She has the best musical sense of the six. “A song entitled ‘Shackles and Chains’, Rarity. Remind me and I will play it for you sometime. I just thought the title appropriate,” I told her casually, to laughter around the table. “Now will be a good time, Tristan,” Celestia suggested. “Be right back. Pardon me,” I said, leaving the table and going to where nopony could see me. Then and only then did I retrieve my phone, as per my promise to Pinkie that nopony would ever see me do so, until she said I had the trick down well enough to do so in front of witnesses. A small price to pay for the knowledge. When I came out, I announced, “The title is appropriate, but the song is about a bad love affair,” before playing the song. When it ended, Celestia told us, “There is SOME appropriateness, Tristan. Only, it is not Accurate Strike, it is our suspected opponents who are trying to shackle and chain you.” “Point made, Princess. It’s a habit of mine, that being certain situations will remind me of song titles, even though the lyrics do not match the situations,” I said in reply. “It’s not a bad habit,” Applejack said. “Have you decided which songs you are going to do for us?” “I’m being very careful on that, Applejack. I want the song to be a true representation of my feelings for you all. I only have a selection of five hundred eighty-five songs on my playlist, so I have to winnow with care. The title may be right, but the song may be wrong,” I said in all sincerity. “I liked some of what you were singing while working at Sweet Apple Acres,” was her answer. “Me, too, when you were with the animals,” Fluttershy piped up. “Fluttershy, the song I have in mind for you is not one I have recorded, all I can do is try to remember it as much as I can. It has been years since I last heard it,” I said. “If somehow, I can get my memory enhanced, and learn to write music, I could try to write it out and have someone perform it.” I saw a glance fly around the table. I knew then I was in for something. “Tristan, I think I have something in mind. When I get back to Ponyville, I will research the spell,” Twilight said. “Now I know I’m in for it…” I muttered, to laughter from the group.