//------------------------------// // Empowerment // Story: Not-Yet-Princess Twilight Sparkle and the Tale of the Dark Empress of Teatime // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Watching as Twilight sat shivering, Celestia pulled Spike from his high chair and then gently stuffed him beside her student. The two of them were small enough to share a chair, and tiny Twilight eagerly gripped Spike, which meant that he was in no danger of a fall. So embraced, Spike returned the favour, and held Twilight, his companion, in return. With every breath taken, Twilight wickered faintly from fear, and Celestia gave her a moment to recover. “Sunny tried to do the right thing,” Twilight said, almost murmuring, almost whining, “and something bad happened. That’s not fair. She did as she was told and she tried to be nice to Nadir. Why would Nadir do that? That’s mean and super not-nice.” Almost sighing, Celestia stared down at the table, her heart heavy with regret. The Darks had their standards and like devoted gardners, they pruned their family tree. Celestia thought of Nadir and wasn’t sure what to say about her to Twilight; not just about poor Nadir, but the Darks in general. What would Twilight say if she knew that her friend, Moondancer, was a Dark? Alas, poor Moondancer, like Nadir, did not meet the Dark Ideal, and she’d been given up to be raised by a family that loved her for what she was; an adorable filly with terrifyingly strong magic in need of special parents capable of raising such a foal. What might Twilight say if she knew? The questions she might ask… trying to explain all of this, the hows and whys, it would make for a complicated conversation. Would knowing colour Twilight’s perceptions? Celestia could not help but feel that she had failed poor Nadir. “Twilight, will you be okay?” “I have Spike,” she said, replying through teeth that were threatening to go a-chattering. “Well, things will get scarier. Be brave, Twilight.” “If I hafta.” Seeing no point in correcting the brave filly, Celestia continued with her story… Everything felt far too warm for Sunset Shimmer, who could not overcome her grogginess. She lay upon the cold stone, thankful for its coolness against her fevered skin, and tried to make sense of what was going on. It was dark and the air she breathed was dank, almost mildewy, with a hint of something foul, something rotten. “If you try to use your magic, the resulting pain will be quite exquisite, I assure you.” Sunset found that her tongue was almost too thick to make words, and she writhed against the rough stone floor as a hot, electric jolt shot through her innards. It felt as though her guts were on fire, her stomach gurgled its distress, and she could feel her bowels writhing around like agitated serpents. “It is fortunate that you came along. I awaited your coming, which was foretold by my Master. The Mare in the Moon said you would come. You’re just what I needed. The other unicorns, I consumed their essence, which did not give me the power that my Master promised. It stands to reason that they were too weak to do much for me. But you… I suspect that I shall see my power grow by a magnitude, and when it does, the Darks will be forced to recognise me as one of their own.” As groggy as she was, Sunset could not help but notice that Nadir’s entire demeanour was quite different. It was all a ruse, a clever one, and Sunset could not help but wonder what Nadir was talking about. Consuming essence? This sounded… dire. Sunset suspected that she was deep underground now, out of sight, beyond Celestia’s roving eye. One thing remained constant though… Nadir was nutters. Mare in the Moon? The foalish folktale? Absolute nonsense. “The Mare in the Moon has promised me that upon her return, teatime will last forever. So I aid her in that noble endeavour. All the stars are aligning and the teatime hour, the twilight hour, it is upon us. It is time for the sun to set and for teatime to begin. The twilight hour has come ‘round at last.” “Who”—the act of speaking caused Sunset’s head to almost implode—“is the Mare in the Moon?” “The mother of all Darks.” Nadir’s words were pure honey, sweet and pleasant. “When she returns, she will recognise me as her daughter, and I will be given rule over a vast, mighty empire. I prepare for my mother’s coming. When the moon is just right just a few nights from now, I will drain you of your essence. In the meanwhile, I suggest you contemplate upon your many mistakes. What sort of clueless idiot embarks upon a journey through the wilderness with no supplies? Am I to believe that you are Celestia’s champion? The best she had to offer?” Then, after a moment of prolonged silence, Nadir spat out, “Pathetic.” Sprawled out on the floor, nauseous, and with her guts trying to slither out of either end, Sunset was quite unable to come up with a suitable snappy comeback. As galling as it was to endure these insults, Sunset saw no point in responding—even though she very much wanted to do so. For now, she had to recover her focus, a task easier said than done, given her condition. “The hour of twilight inches ever-closer.” Nadir’s every spoken word was velvet, which somehow made her madness all the more disturbing. “In that time in-between, we set out the sandwiches, cakes, and the tea, and so satiated, we settle in for the night. Soon, the sun sets, the day ends, and the night begins. Such is the ritual. Teatime is the only time that is balanced. The balance must be restored. For a thousand years, the sun has not set to allow the moon to rise. Now, twilight time is coming, and soon, the balance shall be restored.” Leaning in close, Nadir said, “And I shall be its restorer. I will free my Master… my Mistress… my Mother.” Then, Nadir trotted away and Sunset heard the sound of a heavy door slammed shut. Drenched in sweat, shivering, Sunset lay on the floor with her eyes closed, trying to focus the tiny bit of magic she needed. For most ponies, this would be impossible, but she had been trained to cope with this very situation. Celestia, her master, had taught her methods to push through pain and distraction, so that magic might be used during the most improbable of circumstances. As Nadir had said, the pain was unreal, but not insurmountable. It was a matter of breathing, with a bit of visualisation and willpower. Sunset imagined a candle’s flame, which flickered in time with her breathing. The point was to keep the flame going, and not allow it to go out. Which meant slow, steady breathing, and ignoring the pain. All she needed was just the faintest spark of magic, and she would be free. But first, she had to make the magic happen, and that meant fighting whatever nefarious toxins coursed through her blood. Failure meant a fate worse than death, from the sounds of it. Having one’s essence drank was not a desirable outcome. Was Nadir a vampire? With the answer unknown, Sunset pushed the distraction out of her mind, and visualised the swaying, flickering flame that was the representation of her magic. She couldn’t feel her hooves, which were bound tight in rope. The knots were tied in such a way that any sort of struggle caused them to clench tighter, which would cut off circulation completely. Rough, scratchy, hard and unyielding, the rope itself proved to be a formidable distraction. Her guts squelched, cries of gastric distress, and Sunset tried not to think about the hunk of meat digesting within her. Quite without warning, her horn ignited. The light, though faint and quite weak, was enough to blind her right through her closed eyelids. Her magic fizzled, but did not die completely. Breathing in, breathing out, she nurtured the flame back to health, which did not take long. When her horn lit up for a second time, she was prepared for it. Using her telekinesis, she was able to undo the ropes binding her hooves together. It was a slow process, painful, and quite unpleasant. Each action caused spikes to go shooting through her skull, and these left her woozy, queasy, almost to the point of being sick. As she lay there on the floor, slowly releasing the tension from the rope, Sunset was grateful for her master’s patient instruction. There was no way she could cast spells in this condition, and even summoning just a tiny smidgeon of telekinesis was a monumental undertaking. But, she would be free. Once free, she could fall back on what she knew… guile, treachery, and sneaking about. Would she escape? Deal with Nadir? The outcome was unknown, uncertain. She would need to assess and evaluate the situation once she had freed herself from this cell. And to do that, all she had to do was slip free of this rope… There was a muted click and a scrape of metal-on-metal as the lock was sprung. Cautious, Sunset pushed the door open with her hoof and found herself, well, in a place she rather expected even though she was surprised to see it. This was an alchemist’s laboratory. Against the far wall was an alchemist’s bench, a stone cutting table dominated the middle of the room, and there was an alchemist’s larder. On the stone cutting table was something quite unpleasant: the dried, desiccated remains of a unicorn. It was leathery, shriveled, and dried out to the point of being genderless. All traces of hair were gone, which left the nutty brown skin visible. Every inch of mummified flesh was wrinkled, shriveled up like a raisin, and Sunset suspected that this unicorn had been drained of its essence—whatever that meant. This had to be the outcome. Parts of the poor, unfortunate creature had been snipped away. Fearful of being caught, Sunset had a look around. There were plants here, an oddity, the most curious plants. They’d been altered, these plants, and seemed to be growing just fine down here in the dark where the sun did not shine. In the middle of a thicket of roses, there was an enormous fungus that glowed with a faint blue light. In fact, there were a lot of plants, and all of the light in the room came from plants. Sunset was smart enough to understand that she was witnessing something miraculous, but not coherent enough to make sense of it, the hows and whys of it, the importance of what she was seeing. For a pony to modify this many plants, many of them common alchemical ingredients, they would need a reason, a purpose—and Sunset failed to grasp that. There was even precious food growing down here in the dark. Turning her head this-away and that-away, Sunset checked the floor for traps. At least, obvious, visible traps. She was unable to cast a trap-detection spell, so a quick check with the eyes would have to do. As she stepped into the room proper, she saw another dried out, shriveled, raisiny unicorn, this one stored in a glass cabinet. It was at this moment that Sunset understood the fate of the unicorns taken from the other town, and probably from this place as well. Nadir had drained them… though the reason was unknown. This… had to stop. Though she was in no condition to fight, Sunset understood what needed to be done. Her sense of duty implored her to do the right thing, and for once, she was inclined to agree with her sense of duty. Something dangerous was going on here. Unicorns drained of essence, mutated, significantly altered plants, secret goings on down deep in sheltered mineshafts… it didn’t take a genius to figure out that something dreadful was in the works. If put together, the pieces might reveal a peculiar puzzle. There was the cell door behind her, which Sunset shut, and two other doors leading out of this room. One was a door made of iron, an oddity for certain, and another made of rough hewn wooden planks bound with iron bands. Intrigued, Sunset made her way to the iron door, curious as to what might warrant such a door. Much to her surprise, she found that the door was slightly ajar, and a faint light could be seen beyond. It was time to investigate why such a door was needed. The passageway was sweltering… humid. It was like a jungle down here and the path was so choked with plants that it was difficult to follow. There were bushes down here, some with berries, and some without. Foliage of all kinds could be found. Warm, moist, slick stone left her frogs damp and her fetlocks were soaked with dew. Ahead, Sunset could hear Nadir’s voice, and so she wiggled into the bushes to hide. “Mother, I have done as you’ve asked,” Nadir said, speaking to some unknown figure. “Celestia’s apprentice has been dealt with. Just as you said, allowing her to wander the wilderness and waiting patiently for her to come to me has worked out for the best. I am sorry to have doubted you.” “All is forgiven, my beloved Nadir.” “Thank you, Mother.” “The rituals have made you my worthy heir, my precious one.” “I am still very weak, Mother, even after draining the essence of the others. This Sunset, she is powerful. I am hopeful for better results.” “Bleed her dry, Nadir. She will make you strong. Don’t you worry, my precious one.” “But I do worry, Mother. I need to be stronger, so I can prepare for your return.” “My coming was foretold. The stars shall aid in my escape. Precious Nadir, the twilight hour approaches. Nothing can stop my return, but your efforts hasten it.” “And when you return, I shall become the Matriarch of House Dark…” “Of course, precious one. I shall restore you to your family, and they will kneel before your greatness. They will acknowledge you as the greatest among their number.” “Everything will be ready upon your return. The plants have been altered, just as you’ve requested. Everything needed for eternal teatime awaits. Mother, I am anxious for your arrival.” “You have done well, my precious one. Now go and watch the stars, Nadir. See what messages might be read this night. Others too, work to assist my return. The stars shall aid in my escape.” “As you command, Mother.” The sounds of Nadir leaving could be heard, but she did not come up the path where Sunset was hiding. Waiting, crouched in the bushes, Sunset did not dare move and she barely even drew breath. When she felt certain it was safe, she popped her head up out of the bushes, and peered ahead. Fearful, she emerged from her hiding place completely, and went forward to have a better look. Ahead, there was a statue of a massive black alicorn… but not one like Celestia. This one was beautiful, but terrible, with slitted eyes and draconic wings. Sunset couldn’t help but feel as though the statue was looking at her. In front of the statue was a basin of some kind, and in that basin was… something rusty-crusty brown. Some sort of alchemical soup bubbled, a foul smelling concoction that Sunset believed to be blood. Foul magic, which she could not sense very well due to her condition. A lot of time was spent here, because the rough stone before the statue had been worn smooth. The basin was actually two glass bowls, with some sort of goo sandwiched between them. “I’ve been expecting you,” the statue said in a low, sibilant whisper. Sunset wondered what sort of magic this was. “Curious that you remain silent,” the statue said. “You study me, but you do not understand. Has my sister taught you nothing?” “Who are you?” Sunset asked at last. “I am the Mare in the Moon. At least, in a sense.” “What are you really?” “I am an illusion, a sliver of imagination, and an errant wisp of dream magic, given life by the magic I left behind in the blood of my descendents. Nadir made me, she crafted me, so that my will might guide her. Long ago, I saw my defeat coming, and prepared contingencies for my escape.” “Why tell me this? Why be so forthcoming with all this information?” “I see my sister still surrounds herself with idiots and the feebleminded, no doubt so that she might feel better about her own inadequacies. When you surround yourself with lesser-lights, you shine ever-brighter by comparison. Were you not listening? I am not real. I am an illusion, a sliver of imagination, and an errant wisp of dream magic, given life by the magic I left behind in the blood of my descendents. I am a magical device that acts as a means of communcation, and Nadir was too stupid to create safeguards against tampering. So now I am stuck in a dull conversation with a dimwitted, off-putting oaf.” “You’re very insulting.” “My voice isn’t real. I’m not real. I tell others what they wish to hear, such as Nadir. If I am berating you, it is because you want to be berated, you cretinous, brain-rotted, pimple-riddled simpleton. I am powered by imagination… in this instance, your imagination, the stunted, crippled thing that it is.” “Hey!” “Nadir desires a mother, as it is her heart’s fondest wish. As for you, I know what you desire…” Sunset squinted at the statue, unsure of what to make of it. Nothing in her extensive education prepared her for this… whatever this was. Even with a throbbing headache, she could not help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. But, whatever this was, it had to be destroyed. It fairly reeked of unnatural magic… foul alchemy. Soul-magic of a sort, though the specific name escaped Sunset—a forbidden name that she wasn’t supposed to know. “You could rid me of Nadir,” the statue whispered enticingly. “Then, all I promised her would be yours.” “And then I’d live in fear of somepony replacing me,” Sunset replied. “Why be rid of Nadir?” “She is weak-willed and weak-minded,” the statue was quick to reply. “Nadir is dimwitted. The essence she drains from others does nothing to help her, nothing at all, but she thinks it does. What it does do is break down the seals that bind me. Once I am free… there will be a reckoning between my sister and I. Let that be your motivation to assist me. You want my sister humiliated. Dominated. I see it, the echoes in your mind, your feverish adolescent fantasies, the dreams that are your secret shame.” Blushing furiously, Sunset said nothing—denied nothing. “Nadir’s essence would go a long way toward freeing me. She has committed black deeds in my name. Her soul is tainted. She is damned. Beyond redemption. Her dabbling into animancy has left rot in her soul. A real pity, for one such as her, to go beyond the pale. She’s weak. Powerless. The only thing worthy about her is the fact that she carries a tiny portion of me. That is the only thing of value she has. The first chance I get, I plan to cast her aside, and find a more worthy assistant. Like you, for example.” Sunset stared the statue in the eye. “I could show you. Teach you. It is easy. A simpleton could do it. Nadir does it. You could rip the souls out of others. Extraordinary magics, all of which my sister practices in secret. Has my sister shared her power with you? Are you her apprentice, or her lacky? It seems to be that you are her toady, her snivelling, whining, wretched flunky that is sent out on errands. You deserve more, don’t you?” “The only thing you can offer me,” Sunset began, “is whatever I might imagine for myself. You offer nothing substantial or real. Only betrayal. Begone.” Then, before the statue could respond, Sunset kicked the delicate alchemical apparatus at the base of the statue. A spiderweb of cracks appeared, there was a burbling sound, like bubbling porridge, and the stench of ozone filled the passageway. With a hissy fizzle, like a just-opened bottle of soda pop, the illusion died and ceased to be. Nadir’s plan, whatever it was, had to be thoroughly destroyed. Wrecked. Sunset had to put an end to this. Retreating back the way she came, towards the alchemy laboratory, she tried not to think too much about the things the Mare in the Moon had said. Nadir herself had to be dealt with, and while Sunset didn’t have a plan just yet, she did have the element of surprise. It was time to prove once and for all that guile and treachery were superiour to diplomacy and friendship.