Trials of A Princess

by Rose Quill

9 Judgement

“So far, they’ve been willing to humor that you may not be behind the attacks,” Heartshine said. “And even then, it is a stretch. Please understand that this is not a reflection of you.”

“But they’re scared,” I finished. “And they want something to focus their fears at.”

“Precisely.”  She sipped her tea and sighed. “Many of us have advocated for you to be allowed in to state your case. Sadly, you must still wait until your sentence is due to be cast.”

“Surely there is some counter argument we can use,” Twilight murmured. “What about evidence of the magic being non-Equestrian in nature?”

“Except we can’t prove that,” I countered. “The stone that they sent with Pine shorted out in a spectacular way and they have no answer as to why. Not to mention that with our magic sealed off we can’t show them again even if another stone was readied.”

“And I can assure you, there isn’t.” Heartshine dropped another sugar cube into her cup before topping it off. “Such stones take several days to prepare and the Triumvirate will likely convene for ruling by the sunset three days from now. It wouldn’t make it here in time, I’m afraid.”

“So what can we do?” I grumbled. “I’m getting tired of just sitting around.”

“What if we got word to Celestia?” Twilight asked. “It’s been nearly a week now, Thea should be done reporting in.”

I rubbed my chin. “If she can find her way here, we could use advice at least. Celestia helped write this treaty, maybe there’s some loophole or clause that could sway the vote.”

But even as I said it, I knew it wouldn’t help. Time to fly here, time to fly back to Canterlot, time for research; it would be too little too late.

Heartshine rose. “I’m sorry there isn't much good news. But tomorrow I’m supposed to meet with some of the clan elders that are still undecided, and speak with them between sessions. Maybe if we can sway them to our side, I’ll have some good news for you tomorrow.”

“Any threes?” I asked.

Twilight groaned and hoofed over two cards.

As I added them to my collection, I sighed. “This is getting old.”

“I’ll say,” my companion echoed. “You’ve won the last three games.”

“Not the game,” I clarified. “The waiting. Wasn’t Heartshine supposed to visit today?”

Twilight glanced at the rapidly setting sun. “It is a little late compared to when she normally visits.”

“You think she’s not coming?”

“She might’ve been held up.” The other Alicorn rifled through her cards. “She did say she was going to try and talk to some Elders. Who knows how long that could take.”

I nodded, my wings rustling. I hated being still for long periods of time.

Twilight looked up. “Any sixes?”

With a groan, I hoofed over all three.

“Are you sure you’re not hustling me?” I asked.

A sly smile was my only answer.

Heartshine came to us in the early morning, mere hours before sunrise.

“So far, I’ve only managed to sway four elders.” She flopped onto a cushion with a hmmph of annoyance. “Apparently my word doesn’t go as far as I thought it did.”

“Four elders out of how many?” I asked.

“Fifteen clans were undecided.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I managed to get some to agree to hear your stories. What I saw was enough to convince me.”

“Speaking of,” Twilight spoke up. “You seemed to have some sort of reaction when you touched Sunset. What was it?”

“Sometimes when a particularly deep mental wound has been left, all we can do is transfer it through us and release it into the earth. To do otherwise is unwise, but we have all tried to weather it in our youth.” She raised a wing to show some mild discolored spots on her coat that we hadn’t noticed before. “Only once, though. If we hold a connection to such pain for too long, it will manifest as a physical wound.”

She looked at me and I shuffled uncomfortably.

“But it is especially strong in other empaths. Sometimes, we can’t resist being pulled in.”

“But my powers are bound,” I said. “My empathy shouldn’t have affected you.”

“Do the rings on your horns stop you from being ponies?” Heartshine asked. “It’s a part of who you are, woven into your spirit like a thread in a tapestry. You may not know what you’re capable of while cut off like this, but that doesn’t change the way you resonate with other empaths.”

She rose and came over to me, sliding a wing across my withers.

“In another time, I could’ve taught you to be a Heartmender as well.”

I laughed. “Thanks, but I already have one impossible job. I don’t need another.”

Heartshine smiled and laughed as well.

“True enough,” she agreed. “True enough. I’ll return later. I need to get some rest before today’s deliberations begin.”

But as she left, her words were present in my mind.

A loud explosion woke me in the night. I staggered out of bed, my wings flaring instinctively as I tried to summon a shield.

I regretted this when the inhibitor ring on my horn caused feedback of my magic and sent me to the floor in pain.

“What’s going on?” Twilight asked as she stumbled over.

“I don’t know,” I wheezed, trying to get back on to my hooves. A few screams broke the relative stillness of the night air.

We raced to the door and emerged just in time to see a veritable army of deer charging toward living nightmares. Little more than abominations of black scales, sharp ridges and razor fangs, they shredded the defender's bulwarks of earth and hedge. Even as the deer unleashed blast after blast of emerald magic, the horrors rushed forward, barbed tails whipping. Each hissed out a scream that reminded me all too much of Entropy's Blights. In moments, the deer defense line had shattered and they scrambled backward while still trying to unleash the wrath of nature upon the beasts.

And behind the creatures came a jet-black Alicorn. Tattered wings jutted out to either side of her like spires of obsidian, decorated only in the ragged remains of a barely a dozen raven feathers. Eyes of pure malice glittered in her otherwise impassive face, slit-pupiled and devoid of the caring I had come to expect. On her haunches lay an all-too-familiar, yet all-too-twisted sight: a six-pointed star surrounded by five smaller ones. And each of the small stars were little more than faded scars against her midnight coat. She crept forward, her motions more like a stalking chimera than a pony, the feathers giving off a faint rattle as she moved.

“Ah,” purred the Nightmare. “It’s nice to see you, Twilight, Sunset. How do you like my pets?”

I gawked, staring at the apparition from my nightmare a few weeks ago. I glanced at Twilight and found her staring in disbelief. I looked back at the shadowy mare before me.

“But…” I sputtered, at a loss for words. Twilight had barely progressed past a small squeak, her jaw moving with wordless sounds.

Nightmare Twilight tilted her head. “Perhaps it’s a bit too soon for us to meet. But I’m sure we’ll run across each other again soon.” She chuckled and flashed us a jagged grin before she and the beasts vanished in puffs of black smoke, leaving behind only the echoes of her amused laughter.

Twilight opened her mouth and I expected some sort of typically wordy declaration, perhaps some sputtering.

“Oh fuck.”

Four guards stepped forward, taking up positions on either side of us.

“Return to your dwellings,” one sternly ordered.

I glowered at him for a moment, until Heartshine came up, placing herself between us and the lead guard, her wings spread slightly in a soothing posture.

“I’m sure they will accede to your requests as long as you allow them their own pace.” She glanced back at us. “And their inhibitors will be removed, immediately. They will not leave or use their magic on us, on their honor.”

I nodded, glancing at Twilight. She was still staring at where her dark twin had vanished.

“Twilight!” I hissed.

“What?” she said dazedly.

“Promise to stay and not use magic.”

“Oh, right. Sure.” Her eyes didn’t waver from that spot.

“Now,” the tiny Peryton soothed. “Everydeer back to bed.”

She shot a look across the way, where the imposing figure of Dunford stood.

“And something will be decided tomorrow.”

The council chamber was more massive than I had believed when we first stood within it. Amphitheater seats stretched far into the open space, new lighting illuminating hundreds of deer, their coats in the same array of colors that I had seen in ponies. Manes slowed around antlers or matched the hues of their feathers.

Heartshine stood by us, our unspoken advocate.

“Whatever happens,” she whispered. “Do not speak unless spoken to. You will be allowed to have a brief statement before the votes are cast. Save your voices for then.”

I shuffled uneasily. While most of the deer looked down with unreadable faces or looks of awe, there were pockets which shimmered with pure hatred.

“Keep your wings furled,” Heartshine continued. “A gesture that might be innocent to your culture might mean something different to ours. Better to appear calm and composed, even if you aren’t.”

She reached up and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m certain that after last night, you should be cleared of your ‘charges’.” The words were almost spat.

“In session!” a guard bellowed as the Triumvirate stepped out and took their seats.

“In light of recent events,” Dunford ground out. “We have decided that you are not responsible for the attacks directly. Instead, some imbalance of your harmony has manifested, and for reasons unknown to us, decided to encroach into our territory.”

“The only choice,” Cirrus intoned. “Is to consult the Ancestors directly.”

“But, since this is a democracy,” Rubicon chimed. “We shall cast votes for having you accompany the Wilders or remain here under watch.”

Dunford looked into the assemblage. “Those in favor of accompaniment, cast white. Those opposed, cast black.”

I frowned, confused at the terminology before white stones began clattering into a shallow depression at the base of the seating; smooth and round, rolling down chutes built into the risers with a tiny rumble. At the same time, jet-black stones joined them, but not in nearly the same quantity.

After a minute, the last few white stones rattled to a stop on top of the pile of their brethren, while only a few of the inky ones rested on the floor.

“And the vote of the Heartmenders?” Dunford rumbled.

Heartshine reached out with a wing and added her white stone to the pile.

“Then it is decided,” Dunford gestured to a guard. “Once preparations have been made, they will leave with the Wilders and the Heartmender Elder.”

“What…Why?”

“You are the only one here competent in the commune ritual at the Grove of the Ancients and the Well of Tears.”

“Any of the Tenders can perform that ritual,” the Peryton shot back. “I fail to see —“

“The Tenders will be busy healing the damage from last night’s attack,” Dunford roared. “By the grace of the Allmother, none of our kin were killed, but I deem their need here greater.”

Heartshine puffed her cheeks out. “By your leave, my Lord.”

Dunford slammed his hoof against a marble slab. “We are adjourned. We thank the Elders for their time.”

As the Cervyderians started to leave, Twilight turned to Heartshine.

“What’s this Well he mentioned? What are we going to do?”

Heartshine ruffled her wings in agitation.

“He deferred judgment,” she snarled. “And is sending you to speak with the Ancestors.”

“And that’s bad…why?” I asked.

“Our Ancestors had xenophobic tendencies after the war with the Centaurs.” Another wing flutter of annoyance. “It’s entirely possible that they would judge you guilty of trespassing.”

“So, what then? Banishment from your lands?” I scoffed. “Doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I wouldn’t make light of this, Princess,” Heartshine spat. “These are the spirits of those that created the Memory Stones. It’s entirely possible that they could erase any memory that could make you a threat, maybe even wipe you clean.”

That thought made my heart seize. Forget everything? That’s absurd! There’s no way I could forget things I held dear. And Sunshine and I shared a mental bond, one that I could feel faintly now that the ring had been removed. Surely that would overcome it…

Surely…

“Come,” Heartshine gestured with a wing. “We should get supplies for the trip; it’s three days to the Grove.”

We left at first light. Across my withers was one of the satchels Cervid Wilders used on journeys, filled with dried fruit and baked honey cakes wrapped in leaves. A rolled blanket was also tucked inside along with a sparker — a tool used by deer which held a piece of flint with a metal cap to direct its sparks.

Twilight walked beside me, her head held low.

“Bit for your thoughts,” I whispered.

“That pony,” she whispered in a distracted voice. “The other me —“

“That wasn’t you,” I said firmly.

“But it was!” she cried. “You and I both know of the existence of other dimensions! And not just this one and the world of CHS; Celestia told us of the one where she was a crazed tyrant and Sombra the leader of the resistance. And the ones I saw in my battle with Starlight! I don’t know if any of them ceased to exist after I left. There could be one where I wound up trapped in the past. There could be one where you never fled through the mirror!”

“Twi, calm down,” I stretched out a wing to comfort her. “Can you imagine the mess I’d be if I had stayed? Plus, what would you have done if the Rainboom hadn’t happened, become an archivist?”

She chuckled ruefully. “True. But we have direct proof that another me has crossed over and has been possessed by some remnant of Nightmare Moon! We saw her, Sunset!” She began to hyperventilate, her eyes growing huge.

“Breathe, Twilight,” I urged. “We’ll get a handle on this and deal with it. After all, we’ve managed to overcome quite a few crises together. We did face an ancient god recently, remember.”

I looked forward to the trailblazers. I was still amazed by the ability the deerkin had to pass through brambles as though they weren’t there. I had more than a few scratches and scrapes from this sojourn.

“I’m sure we’ll make do.” I reassured her.

One of the lead Wilders called for a halt for our midday meal and we were joined by Heartshine and, surprisingly, Cersi.

“I don’t remember you being assigned to this trip,” Heartshine said as the other Peryton settled next to us.

“Briar Rose owed me a favor, so I swapped with her. There’s actually a few more Perytons keeping pace above the canopy in case something happens.”

“Well, I won't tell if you don’t,” I chuckled. “That makes two friendly faces on this march.”

“Couldn’t you get in trouble, though?” Twilight asked.

“Officially, I’m on leave to visit family,” Cersi said. “Never said I had to go straight there. Besides, Pine gave his word to look after you. Just because he was reassigned doesn’t mean I trust these guys to hold you to the same level of safety.”

“You know that Briar could get reprimanded, of course,” Heartshine said.

“Technically, she can’t,” Cersi popped a chunk of apple into her mouth. “I outrank her, and I’d like to see the Council try and punish her for following my orders.”

“Regardless, it’s good to see you again.” I looked skyward, trying to ascertain the time of day. “It’s a little hard to tell, but it seems like we have about six hours of daylight left. Not much time to move.”

“Closer to seven hours,” Cersi corrected. “Sometimes the light looks dimmer amongst the trunks. Elder trees draw in the light and hold the twilight within their leaves. It gets rather gloomy, honestly.”

We fell silent for the remainder of the meal.

As we cleaned up and packed away our supplies, I looked at Heartshine.

“Tell me about this ritual.”

Heartshine blinked in surprise. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m curious about things that have a direct impact on my life,” I quipped. “Call me crazy.”

“Once at the Well,” she said. “I’m to act as a conduit for the spirits to speak. They will use my body as though it's their own. It’s an unsettling experience, but each time I’ve done it, I was fortunate that a Heartmender’s spirit was the one that communed with me. It eases the shock.”

“And what do we do?” Twilight asked.

“You’ll be evaluated by the Ancestor, and spoken to accordingly. The Wilders will be bound to follow any orders given since they come from an honored Ancestor. Beyond that, I cannot say.” She looked from Twilight to me and back. “I also cannot say what their judgment will be.”

I hated this forest. Despite the relatively warm weather, the abundance of flowers, and rather generous rests in the trip, I despised every step we took. The undergrowth seemed determined to block me and Twilight’s passage, clasping at our hooves and fetlocks despite seeming as little more than scrub before we stepped into it.

“This is really weird,” Twilight remarked, at what would be our last stop before we reached the Grove. “It’s like the forest is trying to keep up from going any deeper.”

“I’d say that’s a pretty accurate description,” I grumped, untangling my tail from some thornweed I hadn’t noticed before I sat down. “It’s a lot more active than even the Everfree Forest.”

“This is most unusual,” Cersi murmured. “I’ve never seen the undergrowth impede someone so vigorously before.”

“Nor have I,” Heartshine said, reaching out to touch the thornweed. “It’s almost as if it’s trying to warn us.”

“Of what?” I flashed my magic to untangle a more problematic bit of the weed.

“I don’t know. The forest, especially this deep, can react to the spirits.” Heartshine looked around. “There are also stories of creatures who live in the trees, being as one.”

“Dryads? You have stories of Dryads?” Twilight’s eye lit up at the prospect. “What do you know about them?”

“Nothing,” Heartshine sighed. “As I said, they are only stories. We’ve heard nothing to give voice to the truth of the matter.”

“Time to move on,” one of the Wilders said. “It’s only three hours to the Grove. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back and be rid of this silly mission.”

“I beg your pardon?” Cersi growled, standing. “This is a mission given by the Enclave. There is nothing silly about it!”

“I find it ridiculous that we are leading outsiders to our most sacred grounds.” The Virtung sneered. “I see how they struggle with the forest. It’s like the Ancestors don’t want them here, either.”

“It’s not like we asked to come, you know!” I shouted, shooting to my hooves.

“You could always run back home,” barked another of the Virtung. “Your hooves must be unused to walking so much.”

“Please,” said the first. “The forest would swallow them before they even got half a day away.”

“Are you seeking to abandon your sworn oath, Wilder?” came Heartshine’s calm voice. “Surely that must be your intent if you mean to drive your charges away.”

Both Virtung looked at each other uneasily. “We will not fail our task, Heartmender,” the first said. “But I disagree with the council’s decision.”

“That is your own burden,” Heartshine returned. “You can return to the Enclave and request reassignment if you wish.”

Grumbling, the Virtung threw his pack on and motioned forward. “Three hours and we’ll see if my ‘burden’ is anything but.”

I lifted my own pack, glowering at the back of his head. “Arrogant clod,” I growled under my breath.

“Forgive him,” Heartshine told me. “He is from one of the families that opposed the vote. They would have ousted you immediately if they had the chance.”

“Lovely,” I grumbled. “Remind me to leave them off my list for Hearth’s Warming.”

After three hours of stumbling through the underbrush, we emerged into a clearing ringed by immense trees, each with weathered bark and thick leaves. In the center of this clearing was a perfectly circular lake, it’s waters coated with a rising mist that crept onto the shore.

“It’s unusual for mist to remain so late in the day,” Twilight said. “Any temperature difference should have cleared up by now.”

“That is a property of the lake,” Cersi said, her head bowed. “The honored dead rest here, and the lake is where the boundaries between our world and theirs is weakest.”

I stepped forward, staying clear of the mist and gazing at the water. No rivers or stream fed it or ran from it. It was easily several hundred yards long and the water held a faint silver-white sheen.

“I’ve never seen water like this before,” I said. Something was pricking at the back of my mind. Something wasn’t right, something that I couldn’t put my hoof on.

I heard a cry and a thump from behind and turned just in time to see Cersi slump to the ground beside the two obstinate guards and Heartshine’s unconscious forms. Two Virtungs and three Perytons that could have been siblings stalked forward leers plastered on their faces.

Twilight backstepped quickly as one of the remaining Virtung started throwing spells of sickly green light at her, repelled by a hastily constructed shield. As she deflected the blasts, I heard a hollow laugh start to echo out from the woods, followed by the sound of raven’s wings rattling.

I leaped forward, my horn flared with mana. I looked for an opening in their guard when something slammed into me from behind. I cleared my head and saw the three Perytons swooping in again. I was able to toss up a shield just in time to deflect their run, but they managed to knock Twilight off balance as they climbed again.

Dashing over, I turned my shield to protect my dazed friend from the incoming magical attacks. In the corner of my eye, I thought I could see a dark shape stalking among the shadows of the trees.

“What in the name of Harmony are you doing?” I shouted over the hiss of magic against my shield.

“What we were told,” said the lead Virtung, and I froze when I saw the same slit-pupiled eyes as the Nightmare from the other night.

I felt a solid blow crash into my side as a Peryton barreled into me, catching me under my barrel and lifting me into the air. She flew out over the lake and went into a dive.

She released me and I plunged into the waters of the lake, the impact dazing me. As I sank, I barely was aware of the bubbles floating up lazily before a wave of dizziness swept over me.

As the blackness crept in from the corners of my vision, I saw Twilight crash through the surface as well, her wings limp.

Sunshine turned and looked to the Northwest suddenly. Something was wrong, the connection she shared with Sunset was suddenly absent.
“Everything ok?” Starlight asked.

The azure unicorn shook her head. Why had she been staring in that direction again?

“I don't know,” she said. “I feel like I forgot something important.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Moondancer said as she came in with tea. “Those kinds of things tend to turn up when they’re important enough.”

Taking her cup, Sunshine nodded. “You’re probably right,” she shook her head. “It’s probably nothing major.”