//------------------------------// // Interlude One // Story: The Rariad // by Tundara //------------------------------// The Rariad By Tundara Interlude 1: Tartarus The City of the Dead stirred, her citizens aware of a change in the air. Dazed, they wandered into the streets, and found the rain had parted. This was unusual. Since the Great Shiver where the city re-organised herself the rain had resumed it omnipresence. Of greater curiosity was the bright, golden streams of light breaking through the clouds. In droves they looked up, hooves raised to shield their eyes, and beheld a sun just barely contained by wispy white veils. Among the citizenry Furies paused and whispered to one another in excitement. In the court before their temple they gathered and made their marching lines. With a clash of spears on shields, as one the body turned to their leader, fire-maned Lybis. She took her place at the head of the procession, ready to began the march to the city gates some hundred miles distant. Before they could so much as leave the wide courtyard, the gods of the Underworld made their appearance, and the alicorn army halted before it could begin its march, the Furies forced to placate the rage of the greater alicorns. Far off, shadows cast by a small group sped across the bleak, cracked landscape beyond the city walls. Hades led the way, the God of the Dead at long last returned home. Behind him came two strangers to Tartarus. Closest flew Celestia. Stormy worry crossed her features, both for what lay ahead, and what she had left behind. Equestria and Ioka as a whole were beneath safe wings she reminded herself. Gone were the days where she’d weathered the burdens of the disc alone. If she’d come alone Celestia would still have worried, but at least it would have only been for what lay ahead, rather than also for the pony at her side. Luna wore an expression that shifted between stern and fascinated. She’d brought her sword, Tamashi tucked against her side, in spite of Hades assurances that they would be safe in the Underworld. At least she’d agreed to leave behind her barding. Celestia wished Luna had stayed behind. Luna adamantly refused to let her go alone. As Luna pointed out, if it came to a fight she was the better fighter, even if Celestia was more powerful. “The aether here is so…” Luna faltered for a moment as she sought the right word. “Fetid. Like the air in a bog. Is the magic here sick, or is this normal?” “Tartarus is a concentration of the malignant, unworthy, and wicked. Of course it is foul.” Hades shot over his withers, and Luna stuck her tongue out at him. “You will also find their judges, torturers, reapers, and wardens. Remember, refrain from wandering or exploration. The other gods and goddesses of the Underworld are prickly towards intruders. My protection extends only to the borders of their private domains.” Celestia could feel Luna roll her eyes. “Verily. It has only been mentioned twice a day for the past month.” Luna laughed, utterly at ease even in Underworld’s depths. “Perhaps I will meet an old friend or foe down here. Though it has been so long, it would be a shock if any still lingered.” A little anxious knot twisted in Celestia’s belly. She’d wanted to leave right away on learning Rarity was in Tartarus. Delay after delay prevented the expedition. The disc was still in turmoil, with brush fires threatening to turn into conflagrations if she turned her back for a moment. At least she now had many friends and family on which she could rely. Still, she couldn’t be seen shirking her duties. Her little ponies were so very similar to frightened foals, clutching at her legs, gripped by fear of what lay beyond the next sunrise. Calming the populace enough to allow her enough time to descend into Tartarus took far longer than anticipated. Irritation at how long it took flicked through her tail. Rather than gazing at what was behind, she focused ahead, and on the grand city stretching before her. The city differed from Celestia’s expectations in odd ways. The megalopolis’ gothic structures were expected as they’d been a key feature of artists and mad-ponies depictions of the realm since time immemorial. Likewise, the hazy fog that clung to the streets like a cold fall morning on the coast was fitting. Clock towers thrust through the grey expanse, gargoyles clinging to their surface. Water still rushed through open gutters, and glutted canals wove through buildings and along streets so that the city almost seemed to be floating. No, it was the trees that gave Celestia pause. Maple trees lined the broad avenues and filled thousands of parks spread around monuments to heroes, poets, and leaders. Red-gold leaves covered in dew created splashes of colour, the light cast by iron lamposts giving them a stark quality. A chilly breeze kicked through the streets and whipped up a dancing procession of leaves, plucking those about to fall from branches. Before the leaves had begun to settle again buds were already forming. In the space of minutes fresh leaves uncurled, and then browned ready to fall again. Bleak greys, harsh irons, softer bronze tones, and the red-golden hues all blended together to create a portrait that was bittersweet. Balanced on the edge between despair and hope, youthful vitality around the corner beyond the decay of ages, Tartarus was beautiful.        “This is… different,” Hades grunted looking over the parks and bustling streets. He recognised everything, and knew it was wrong. All out of place. Like looking on the portrait of a lover through a warped mirror.   “I like it,” Luna said, appreciating the stark, gothic beauty of the city highlighted by Sol’s amused light. After a few moments considering the wrought iron face and spired roof of the closest tower, she added, “Though, I expected it to be a tad more grim. Even the aether here is so clean. At least, compared to what is out on the plains.” Hades shook his head, and grumbled, “This is Tartarus. It is not meant to be so… cheerful!” Raising a brow, Celestia quipped, “You consider this cheerful?” “For Tartarus it is down-right a party with balloons, confetti, and sweet cakes hosted by Pinkie,” Hades responded, following up with an exasperated sigh. For an instant, he thought he could hear the distant tones of bouncing music. “And the layout is wrong. There has been some re-organising done in my absence, it would seem. Which would make a little sense. I did bring a portion of a district to the disc.” Hades took them on a long, almost leisurely circuit of the city, inspecting it as he went. Here and there Celestia caught glimpses of the Tartarus that had haunted nightmare’s and mortal hearts for uncounted generations. Cramped alleys, squalid slums, and barren courtyards dotted the city like pustulant tumours. But, there was far more, for lack of a better term, life in the city. Oneiras were active in particular, flitting above ghostly crowds in dazzling swirls.    At last Hades’ palace came into view, and with it the mass of shouting alicorns. Celestia had never expected to see such a gathering, even after meeting her very-distant cousins from Gaea. To see hundreds of alicorns all in one place would have brought a surge of joy at any other time. Now it only made the anxious pinch in her belly tighten. The energy coming from the courtyard was almost overwhelming. Alicorns could sense each other, with the distance increasing equally to their power. For Celestia, she could sense Luna as far off as a half-dozen leagues. The group below her could be felt as far away as the city walls. So many alicorns made picking out the power of individuals difficult. A few, Celestia felt certain, were at least as powerful as herself. Such a group had not formed since the partitioning of the underworld into the various demesnes, with Hades claiming ownership over all. There was Osiris, legs wrapped in funerary bandages, crown of ostrich plumes atop his broad brow, with beautiful Isis at his side. Ankh headed staff resting on her slender shoulder, Isis’ perceptive, glimmering eyes swept over the crowd of gods, resting longest on Mictlantecuhtli and Mictecacihuatl. The two blood-splattered, skeletal gods gave toothy grins at their peers, and the wide berth they were given even by the other gods and goddesses of the underworld. Tall Anubis stood close to Izanami, the giant, jackal crowned god an odd pairing for the maggot ridden and ravaged goddess. Hel, half rotting and half vibrant, paced along the edges. With her trotted Baron Samedi, his tall hat pushed forward, cunning eyes hidden behind dark, round glasses so only his wide, skeletal smile was visible.   There were more, dozens of underworld gods, and all fixated on Achlys, God of Death, as he stood trying to calm the crowd at the doors to his father’s palace. The Furies formed a bulwark, shields tight and spears leveled, though none of the dark gods of the underworld gave them any heed.   “A sun!” Shrieked Izanami, her voice strained like it was being pulled from metal cords over a great distance. “Now there is a sun in the underworld! And what of Hades? What is he who claims kingship over this domain going to do?” “Nothing,” Hades answered in a great booming voice that sounded little like his usual, wheezy tones. “As she is my guest.” The crowd swung around at his declaration. Celestia’s skin crawled at being regarded by so many ancient eyes full of suspicion or out-right loathing. All of Zeus and Hades’ stories of the various pantheons among the myriad worlds paled against the reality of being confronted by so many alicorns. Luna showed no discomfort, and even went to greet some of the closest gods. “A night goddess as well,” Isis gasped after searching Luna’s features. Wearing a demure smile, Isis left her husband’s side and swept up between the sisters. “My, this is an interesting turn of events. To think Hades would steal another night goddess after how his affair with Nyx was resolved. And to take a sun as well? He has grown bold.” Covering her mouth with the tip of a white wing to hide a giggle, Isis began to guide them up the steps. The Furies parted to let them pass. “Actually, we are just looking for somepony from our world who found her way to Tartarus. Once she is found, we’ll go home.” Celestia corrected, but Isis was not paying attention. Instead, Isis spoke over her withers, asking, “Lord Hades, I presume you’ll be hosting a feast for this auspicious occasion?” To which he replied with a heavy shrug and grunt that everypony took as an affirmative. What followed was a whirlwind of activity as the various gods of the dead, death, and underworld held what was a once every few millennia gathering. Contrary to what mortals would depict, it was not a lifeless and staid affair. Wine flowed freely, and laughter abounded even from the usually grim Hades. He and Osiris were on rather good terms, and the pair recounted for hours the many adventures and escapades of their youths, when the universe was young following the destruction of the First Realm. There was dancing, ribald jokes aplenty, vast cornucopias overflowing with ambrosia, fountains of the most delectable nectar, and a plethora of games. A space was cleared for wrestling, and races started around the palace grounds. More scholarly alicorns made their way upstairs to the grand libraries, and there they smoked long pipes while they engaged in conversation, exchanging riddles between philosophical discussions. It was a gathering of the sort fit for the gods. As a sun-god, Celestia was the center of much attention, and suspicion. Celestia was pulled this way and that, some gods wishing to hear of her world, others delighting in tales of her deeds, and more than a few wishing to challenge her to contests of wits, strength, or knowledge. For once, Celestia found herself overmatched when it came to understanding foundational truths of magic or the cosmos, but more than made up for it when it came to the feats of strength. She was an equal of  Zeus, Odin, and Amaterasu, and as such, one of the most powerful of the gods. Yet, it was Luna who dominated the physical games. In short order she was issuing challenges, and wrestling was put aside in favour of friendly duels. The gods of the Underworld accepted Luna with ease, the many moons of the myriad worlds often associated in some form or other with the mysteries of death and the afterlife. It was Celestia’s wits that truly shone and drew long bouts of laughter. Riddles she possessed aplenty, and her turns of phrase and jokes were greatly appreciated for their light gaiety, so different from the morbid and dour comedy usually practiced by the alicorns of the underworld. Her heart remained torn, wishing for some excuse to escape the party and retrieve Rarity, but every time such an opening seemed to appear, it was quickly snapped shut as she was pulled into some area of the palace. During a quiet spell, Celestia found herself confronted by Hel. One side rotting and decayed, the other beautiful and fair, Hel was one among many that left Celestia uncomfortable and feeling very out of place. “You won't find that which you seek in Tartarus,” the Asgardian Goddess of Death and the Underworld stated, twisting a toothpick around her mostly empty martini glass.   “The hidden one!” Izanami hissed through the hole in her cheek, appearing next to Hel like a ghost slipping out of a shadow. “Oh, how I longed to meet her! To feel the silken strands of her mane on my face. To bask in the honey-spiced scent of her wings. To know the touch of life and true beauty again. Alas, Lethe refused to allow it. And now she is lost to us.” A lump of dread wedge itself in Celestia’s stomach, and she asked with trepidation, “What happened?” “She thought to escape,” Izanami huffed and crossed her hooves. “Her and her… attendant attempted to breach Tartarus’ barrier and escape back to the realms of the living. It was an impressive feat, if foolhardy. Instead, she was cast down into Hell. She will have been destroyed by now.” Celestia’s blood froze at the matter-of-fact way Izanami spoke. Her lips tried to form a follow-up question, but only moved uselessly. Seeing her distress, Hel used a wing to guide Celestia out onto a long patio. “Izzy speaks only on suppositions. We have no way of knowing what happens in the infernal prisons. It is possible amethyst maned Rarity survives as a captive of one of the kings. Tell me, do you know of them?” “Leviathan has been a pestilence on Ioka’s disc since before I was born,” Celestia responded, tightening her wings against her side. “The Seven Great Sins are one of the few aspects of the cosmos beyond our world that we do know and understand.” Izanami clicked her tongue. “So, the rumours are true that Envy slipped loose of her cell. We should form a legion, and drive her back to where she belongs.” “She has been dealt with, for the time being. We have another thousand or so years until she’ll break free again.” Celestia gave a dismissive wave of her hoof, and returned to the subject of Rarity. “But, how do you know Rarity is in Hell, as you call it?”   Hel placed her empty glass on the broad railing and pointed to a place near Sol up in the heavy clouds, she then traced a line down to the city and made a popping noise with her lips. “She attempted to breach the barriers. The descent to Tartarus is easy. The five rivers are plied day and night by the ferry ponies with their dead cargo. To retrace one’s steps and return to the upper air, that is the toil, that the difficulty. We each grant our faithful ways of rejoining the living, though the most common is to seek one’s door and purify the soul so it may journey through the font to a new life. I like adding little tests or riddles. Dear Izzy simply eats them.” “Mortal souls are rather tasty. You should try it sometime, beloved cousin,” Izanami purred, the desiccated orbs in her eye sockets glowing red with hate. “A thousand a day, just as I promised my dear Izanagi when he abandoned me down here.” “Yes, yes, we all know your tale of woe and revenge, Izzy.” Hel snorted, and Izanami clenched her teeth. “Our solar cousin does not wish to hear you prattle on about such things. She seeks her own love, if I am not mistaken.” “Lucky then that Rarity did not partake of the food of Yomi,” Izanami snarled, looking away and hiding behind her thick, black mane. “At least now you can leave with that infernal light you cast.” Bringing the conversation back on course, Celestia asked, “Would there be some way to enter Hell?” Both goddesses of the underworld looked startled, and a little afraid. Izanami hissed and shrunk further into the shadows, while Hel chose to throw back her head with a long, high laugh. “Aye, there is a way. Escape, however? Now, there is the great question.” Hel tapped her chin with the tip of a hoof. “No, Tia, we are not going to charge into Hell.” Luna said from the balcony archway. A brass goblet hovered in her aura along with a plate of sugared plums and gelatine delights. Rounding on her sister, Celestia demanded, “Are you suggesting we leave Rarity in the clutches of the demons? A greater onieros brought me a dream about her, Luna. I have to find her.” “What would you suggest instead? Flying into the lair of our oldest enemies? It took five thousand years of constant back and forth to remove the several lords Leviathan brought with her to Ioka. Leviathan herself has only been put to sleep, and there are six other demons down there who are each more powerful.” Luna stressed her point with a stamp of her hoof. “Six of the seven Great Sins remain; each is our equal, except they have no compassion, no mercy. They surround themselves with dukes, counts, and lords, subservient to their sovereign’s will. This is before we get to the hundreds of legions at their command. We would require an army of alicorns to rescue Rarity by force.” Celestia dragged her tongue over her teeth. Luna was correct, saying nothing she hadn’t already realised. She could hardly ask complete strangers to march into literal Hell. All on the promise Rarity had, somehow, survived among the most loathsome, evil, sadistic creatures in all creation. A promise nopony would give credence. Giving up felt wrong. It left a hollow in her stomach. In her heart of hearts Celestia knew Rarity lived, that destiny bound them together. Glimpses of the future showed her grown daughters bearing the mantle of the Muses, a mantle once worn by the daughters of Beauty. Those original Muses were gone, lost in the tumult of a war that ravaged Gaea centuries ago. What Celestia required was more information. She was making guesses. Educated guesses, yes. But she couldn’t shake the uncertainty that perhaps she was being lead astray by hope. “I can’t give up on her, Luna,” Celestia let the admission out in a long sigh. “I failed her once before, and I refuse to do so again.” “Tia…” “I know, Luna. I know. The demons’ realms are closed for good reason.” From behind Luna appeared Hades, his sunken face severe and pinched in the half-light cast by Sol. “And so they must remain. If you venture there you will find no way out. For that reason I refuse to grant you passage to the pit.” Rounding on Hades, Celestia’s control snapped. “You promised to take me to Rarity. Where is that fabled pride at always keeping your word?” She was twisting his promise. He’d sworn only to take her to where he’d left Rarity, not to Rarity herself. A distinction for the eventuality that Rarity was gone. For this very scenario, or something similar.   Shame at her petulance burned across her cheeks, and Celestia found herself unable to meet the gazes of Hades or Luna, or even Hel and Izanami. Ever since learning Rarity was alive in Tartarus, Celestia had been finding it more and more difficult to maintain her poise. Moments of irritation became more frequent, especially as delay after delay mounted. It was as if she were two-hundred again. Putting a firm hoof over her disappointment, Celestia said, “I apologize. You warned me to keep my expectations low.” “Hmph, that was only because I was unsure whether she’d survive hosting Serene’s essence. Rarity should have been burnt away the moment Serene was destroyed, like a marshmallow in a bonfire. Then again, shades seem attracted to those capable of housing their godly powers.” Hades dismissed the apology with a casual roll of his wings. “What now?” It was Luna who asked the question. Celestia bit the inside of her cheek, no longer trusting her first response. “I take you two home,” Hades said after a brief pause to glare up at Sol. “Tartarus is no place for a sun and—” “Oh, but must they leave so soon, dear Hades?” Hel interrupted with a mischievous purr. She slipped up between Hades and Celestia. “A sun has never visited Tartarus before. I would love to have Celestia visit my halls.” A stronger harumph sounded in Hades’ chest. “So you can keep her for eternity? I gave my word to see her safely here and home.” “You are one to talk,” Hel responded, but her voice was light, airy, as if she truly didn’t care one way or the other if Celestia stayed. The hungry gleam in her gaze said otherwise. “Perhaps we should rejoin the party,” Luna suggested, leading Celestia from the balcony with a wing. Stifling a sad noise in her throat, Celestia allowed herself to rejoin the festivities. For a week wine, food, and games flowed freely, and Celestia found herself sucked into a fevered dream of a Grand Galloping Gala. Luna was ever by her side, even the duels and games abandoned to keep her sister company. Activity helped alleviate the morose clouds forming around her heart only so long. Eventually the party came to a close and Celestia was confronted with the prospect of failure. She remained silent, lost in contemplation, during the flight from the city. All too soon she stood before the Golden Gate to Ioka. She gave Tartarus a long look, hope still strong that Rarity would appear cantering across the cracked, empty landscape. “Ever since I had that dream of Rarity and you informed me she was in Tartarus, I have been filled with hope,” Celestia said to Hades. “I will continue to hope. Rarity is out there, somewhere.” “That is your prerogative, but I would caution you to temper your heart and prepare for no news ever reaching out of that hellish place. Do not waste away pining for what was lost. To have hope only for it to be snatched away is a cruel fate. You bear it with far greater grace than I have done.” Hades spoke softly, his wings ruffling against his sides at fresh memories. To Luna he said, “I… Luna…” His words faltered, and he coughed into his leg before he stiffly said, “Give Twilight my regards. It may be some time before I am able to return to Ioka. Tartarus requires my attention. And… I hope… Yes… That should be enough.” Luna’s own expression was as cold, aloof, and reserved as Celestia had ever seen. “Of course,” Luna said, her tone clipped and tight as the edges of her jaw. “I will pass along your regards to Twilight.” Luna was first through the gate, its liquid surface rippling at her passage. Celestia followed a few seconds later. On the bleak Isle of the Dead, Celestia raised her head to Sol and the warmth of a living world. Basking in Sol’s rays, confidence swelled in Celestia. Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps she should ‘temper’ her expectations. But, Celestia knew Rarity was alive, and that somehow, eventually, she would find her way home.