//------------------------------// // A Hushed Conversation // Story: The Infestation of Equiss Prime // by Jest //------------------------------// Slow, methodical hoofsteps echoed through the castle’s lonely hallways, Blueblood walking at a more sullen pace than he had a minute ago. Despite how badly most of him wanted to go home and talk to his wife, another, smaller part of him was reluctant to do so. She wasn't an intimidating mare by any stretch of the imagination, but when the topic of the princess or unicorns came up, she could probably shout down a manticore and the stallion wasn't wholly sure if he was ready to deal with that right now. But he had to, his conversation with his ‘aunt’, proved just that, and this was one conversation he couldn't put off anymore. Still, that didn't mean he had to like it. He tramped through the halls, his usual smile plastered back on his face, as if he hadn't just been reamed and demeaned like a petulant child. Passing through the castle, he stopped and nodded to a few of the other nobles and dignitaries he recognized, even exchanging greetings with a well revered general who was lingering near a balcony, a pipe in hoof. Must keep appearances, he reminded himself, though he knew at least one of the nobles saw right through his facade, it hardly mattered, only the act did. As he neared his family’s tower, his pace quickened slightly, the familiar sight of his blue and gold guards coming into view, filling him with a sense of pride and oddly enough, peace. The two guards he saw before him were non-descript in the extreme, the enchantments on their armor making them appear as identical stark white unicorns, with piercing blue eyes and long finely filed horns. The stallions themselves weren't what made a sense of pride well in the stallion’s chest but rather their weapons and armor that marked them as his family’s personal guard. They each wielded a pair of sleek, gold handled short swords, with mana infused blades that turned the ordinary grey steel into a sparkling blue. The weapons themselves were meant to be wielded by telekinesis, and were light, yet strong and tied to the wielder's mana signature, meaning they couldn't be used by the enemy, or wrenched away by an opponent. What was the true pride and joy of the Blueblood armory was not the blades, though they were effective, but not nearly as significant as the armor. The armor covered most of the wearer’s body in a thick shell of finely woven golden plates. The artistry and craftsmanship was beyond compare, blending form and function in a way that only the Firstborn could truly accomplish. Blue gems were inset at joints, shoulders, chest, and near the hooves of the wearer, linking together to create an automatic shield that deployed the instant the armor detected danger. Each set was over nine hundred years old and it took the work of several maintenance ponies to ensure that these ancient suits of armor continued to remain as effective as the day they were forged. He had personally started a program to try and recreate the suits and blades, but many of his ancestors had tried, and he didn't hold out much hope that he would be able to accomplish what his predecessors had not. Still, it would be quite a sight to see an entire battalion of unicorn soldiers all wearing this powerful armor and wielding the ancient weapons of his Unicornian people. He shook his head and flashed his personal guards a wide smile. “Good evening, Night Bloom, and Sudden Spark,” he announced, giving a slight nod of his head to the two guards. The guard to the right immediately burst into laughter, slapping his partner across the shoulder. “I told you he would figure it out, Nighty!” The other guard rolled his eyes and ducked into a more professional bow. “Good evening, Master Blueblood. I hope your conversation with Celestia went well.” Sudden Spark ducked into a bow as well, stifling his laughter. Blueblood grinned and motioned for them to rise, which they eagerly did. “It certainly was… enlightening, to say the least.” Sudden Spark raised an eyebrow. “That doesn't sound good, the old mare busting your chops again?” “Pfft, I wish it was just that.” He sighed suddenly, shaking his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling rather thirsty.” “Of course, Master Blueblood,” Night Bloom remarked, bowing slightly before opening the door for the master of the house. Sudden Spark quickly followed suit, parting the other door that made up the entrance, bowing low. As the elder stallion passed between them, Night Bloom cast his companion a sharp look, causing him to wilt slightly. All of which Blueblood saw, but didn't care to note, he did after all usually enjoy the bit of banter his guards often partook in, but now was different. He trotted inside at a solemn pace, barely noticing the heavy oak doors slamming shut behind him. Ahead of him the grand splendor of his personal tower lay before him, and though he usually stopped to take in the grandeur of his family’s home, this time he kept his head low. Passing by paintings that cost more than the average pony made in a year, and hardly even lifted an eyebrow as he trotted past a bowing maid, offering her only the smallest of smiles before making his way up stairs and into the more private area of the tower. As he climbed the spiral staircase, he heard the soft sound of string instruments coming from above, signalling that his wife was listening to her favorite record again. Though he hadn't been a fan at first, the all string orchestra had grown on him, impressing his logical side with the sheer complexity of the songs. It was also written and played entirely by unicorns, as most other races had trouble manipulating the finely stringed instruments. Before he could go towards the origin of the music he turned down a side hall and made his way to his son’s room, noticing the door to which was open, and his son was leaning over his writing desk, his horn alight. Smiling faintly, the elder Blueblood trotted down the hall, hoping to judge if his son held any love for the old nag, and if he did, to try and quash that notion. As he neared the door, his son stopped suddenly, the door slamming shut mere inches from the elder stallion’s nose. Blueblood raised his hoof to pound on the door, but found that he couldn't really muster the energy to be angry at the foal, it had only happened today after all. Maybe it was best he simply gave up for now and came back tomorrow when he had more energy in his bones. The stallion let his hoof fall to the floor once more and turned away, trotting back down the hall and pushing his way into the kitchen, silently wondering if he had anymore of that good brandy from that party he threw a number of weeks ago. As soon as he entered the room, he instantly noticed the form of his second wife, Bright Horn. She was sitting at the small breakfast table, a book titled The Rise and Fall of the Third Unicornian Empire in hoof, tea cup set just off to the side and the record player resting beside that. The mare herself was thin, ash grey with long dirty blonde hair tied into thick braids that draped down the sides of her neck. Her eyes were an electric blue that nearly glowed in the low light of the room, and on her flank was a picture of exactly what anyone who had heard her name would assume, a bright white horn surrounded by a sharp blue glow. “Hello dear,” she greeted. “How was your little talk with the old hag?” The mare licked her hoof and flicked the page, not looking up from her book. “It was… interesting,” he remarked lamely, turning towards the kitchen and rifling through the liquor cabinet in search of the one bottle he knew would satiate his unique thirst. Behind him, Bright Horn frowned and placed a bookmark in her book, setting it aside, and shut off the music. “What do you mean by interesting?” she asked, the joviality leaving her voice. He grunted. “I need a drink first before I sour my palate with such talk.” Blueblood stood up, bumping his head on the counter and cursing under his breath. “Did you happen to know where my Henri Dodgedon went? I could have sworn there was some left.” The mare rolled her eyes and opened a cabinet just above his head with her magic. “It's near the top, remember?” “Right,” he mumbled, leaning back and plucking the bottle from the shelf and hastily pouring himself a tumbler of the stuff, making sure to add the perfect number of ice cubes. With a sigh he plunked down in the seat across from his wife, sniffing the brandy, before putting it to his lips and taking a small sip. “Ahh.” The stallion closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as he did. “It didn't go well, ” Bright Horn stated simply, sipping her tea. The stallion grimaced. “No, it did not.” “She didn't like how truthful you were.” Bright Horn’s eyes narrowed, her expression darkening. “She yelled at you, didn't she? Yes, she yelled at you, then she threatened you, like a common peasant.” Blueblood sighed. “As usual you are right.” He chuckled, taking another sip of his brandy. “No matter how many times you do that, I’m always amazed by your little trick.” “It is no little trick,” Bright Horn stated. “If you merely trained in the Khala more, you could do the same, or at least shield yourself from others.” “Ahh yes, your ancient unicorn fighting style, magic without magic, right?” he asked, downing the last of his drink and sighing contently. “That is a crude translation, but it isn't a wrong one.” Bright Horn leaned across the table, taking the stallion’s hoof in her own. “It really is a considerable boon, you know.” Blueblood sighed, giving her hoof a squeeze. “I know, but I simply don't have the aptitude.” “Nonsense!” Bright Horn remarked dismissively, squeezing his hoof. “All noble unicorns have the capability to undergo the training in the Khala, those descended from the Firstborn even more so!” Blueblood sighed, releasing her hoof. “Still, this is a topic for another day, we have much to discuss right now.” “Very true,” Bright Horn muttered, sitting back in her seat and sipping at the last of her tea. “Though I would insist that we come back to this discussion later, as training in the Khala is natural for those of us of noble birth. We have, after all, a moral imperative to rule over the lesser races.” He snorted in amusement, levitating his cup over the counter. “I wish it were that simple. All we rule over is a hoofful of businesses and a small swath of land on the north face of Mount Canter.” “That is true, we can only claim ownership over small bits of land, but the houses as a whole control a significant amount of the Equestrian economy, and can claim at least indirect ownership over a third of the country. Which is more than the average pony can say,” she pointed out, downing the last of her tea and placing the cup next to her husband’s before casting a quick sidelong glance at the door to the kitchen. A glance her husband didn't seem to notice. “Why must you always speak as though we are not ponies?” he asked with a sigh. “You always say that word as if you are trying to spit it at the floor.” “Through the Khala we can become more than we were born with, more than just mere ponies.” She sighed, sinking back into her chair and forcing her body to relax. “We just need time.” “Well, for once time seems to be on our side.” He pointed out, leaning forward on his chair. “Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Time does not usually aid those who try to rise against an immortal alicorn.” “After my conversation with the peasant child, I spoke with a contact and confirmed that the great houses have indeed been able to infiltrate most offices of government. Though I had hoped such underhooved tactics would be a moot effort, it seems as though their fears have been realized.” He sighed. “Yet despite the houses’ resources and efforts, no one knows what secret projects the princess is working on.” “That is most unfortunate,” Bright Horn lamented, tapping the table nervously. “She has had millenia to plan, what in Equestria could be taking up so much of her time?” “I would put my money on something about this strange peasant she’s been training. Other than that, you know as much as I do.” Blueblood shrugged. “Regardless, now that we know she doesn't have the time to devote to properly countering the houses’ efforts, it shouldn't be more than a few years before we control just about everything.” “We?” Bright Horn asked, a slight smile spreading across her face. “So you have finally decided to join the houses in their efforts?” He sighed. “I may not agree with everything they have planned, but they are right on one thing, the honor of the crown has been besmirched irredeemably, and something must be done.” A wide smile slowly spread across the mare’s face. “I knew there was a good reason I married you.” The stallion gasped, placing a hoof over his heart. “And here I thought it was for my charming wit and dashing good looks.” The mare giggled. “Well, that too.” She clasped his hoof in hers and grinned. “Imagine it, Blueblood, the restoration of your family and of the path of ascension.” Bright Horn laughed giddily, squeezing his hoof tightly. He smiled, squeezing her hoof back. “It would be a dream come true, but we have a lot of work to do.” She nodded, leaning across the table and planting a kiss on his lips. “A meeting of the families can wait, why don't we go relax? You look tense.” The stallion smirked, kissing the mare back before standing. “That does sound nice. What do you feel like tonight? Bach, or your favorite?” “I think you know what I’ll pick.” The mare slipped from the table, and smacked her husband’s butt. “Just let me go put this book back and I’ll be right there.” Blueblood smirked, trotting towards their room. “I’ll be waiting.” Bright Horn turned and with book in hoof walked down the hall, depositing it next to her favorite chair before continuing down the hall. This is amazing! Celestia is completely distracted by her secret projects, giving us enough time to do something which would have taken another few decades in only a fraction of that time. Her smile grew into a cruel, almost predatory grin. Now to take care of a few loose ends. The mare raised her hoof and knocked on the door to Blueblood Junior’s room. “Oh Bluey, can I speak with you a moment?” There was a pause, followed by a brief scuffle before the latch to the door flipped and the portal opened, revealing the frowning face of the younger Blueblood. “Yes stepmother? What do you need?” “Oh nothing, really.” She smiled down at him. “May I come in a moment?” The colt glanced over his shoulder, and towards his bed before nodding. “Of course.” “Why, thank you, Bluey,” Bright Horn replied, stepping into the room and closing the door firmly behind her. The colt trotted over to his bed and hopped up onto the plush sheets, watching his step mother enter his room. The mare raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room at the numerous band posters, statutes of comic book characters and numerous other ‘improper’ things that littered his private living space. She shook her head, pointedly ignoring just how much this room annoyed her. “Tell me, Bluey, you wouldn't happen to be doing something you shouldn't.” She turned to him, glaring down at the colt. “Would you?” He shook his head. “Of course not.” “Of course, of course.” She smiled and nodded. “I just knew you weren't writing a letter to Celestia, but you know how your father gets.” Bright Horn shrugged, noticing the small tremor of unease that flowed through the colt. “Well, dad can be kind of paranoid,” Blueblood said with a shaky smile. “Yes... Quite,” Bright Horn muttered. “But sometimes he can be right. Like now, when he told me that you had a habit of hiding things under your bed.” She turned suddenly, glaring down at him once more. “But I told him that was ridiculous, but now I find myself wondering what the truth is. So, Bluey, you wouldn't have written a letter to Celestia and tucked it under your bed, would you?” “N-no,” he stuttered. “Oh, really now?” she asked in mock surprise. “And I suppose you also weren't listening in on your father and I’s conversation a few minutes ago.” The colt trembled. “That's silly,” he whispered. “Yes, very silly.” her eyes narrowed and her horn lit up, a second later a scroll emerged from beneath the colt’s bed, making his shoulders fall in defeat. “Very silly indeed,” she remarked sadly. “I suppose there isn't a way this ends with you letting me speak to Celestia, is there?” Blueblood asked tiredly. “Of course not.” She huffed. “Just be glad I won't send you away for training.” The colt shivered, hugging his chest and making himself smaller. “P-please no. I did good before. It was just a little mistake!” He looked up at her, tears at the edges of his eyes. “I’ll be good, I swear!” The mare’s eyes narrowed dangerously and she gripped the scroll tight in her magic. “I will speak to your father about this, and we will see what punishment would best fit your little transgression.” Bright Horn turned, and walked out the door, the scroll held aloft in her magic. With a slam, the door closed, leaving Blueblood alone in the dark. The colt crawled under his sheets, wrapping the satin blankets tight about his body, imaging for a moment that his mother was here, holding him tightly. He felt a trickle of tears roll down his face as he realized he couldn't remember her face anymore, or even what she sounded like. In the absence, Celestia’s smiling face came unbidden to his mind, and he latched onto the image tightly, remembering the years he had spent with her. As the room grew dark and the night set in, the colt whispered a lullaby Celestia used to sing to him. Though he didn't know the words, and the language was incomprehensible, he remembered enough of what it sounded like to soothe his soul and help whisk his spirit into the realm of dreams. (The Next chapter is already up on patreon! But will be out next week!)