//------------------------------// // 5. Sun // Story: Devil May Care // by horizon //------------------------------// Eavesdropping on The Wimp Who Walks does, in fact, take him directly to the princesses. And the scene at the Friendship Map table looks dreadfully grim. Celestia is in Twilight's chair, with Luna and Cadance alongside; apparently they're still trying to get word to Princess Checklist overseas. A sheet of paper has been spread over the map geography, marked up with hoof-drawn city streets and littered with little horse figurines and multicolored triangle pyramids. Starlight's scribbling frantically into a book of Twilight's that glows with magical light. Spike is barfing out scrolls like a frat pledge in the bathroom after a party. Twilight's friends have donned their necklaces and are sitting tensely in their chairs — never mind the whole "powers sucked back away by the Tree of Harmony" thing. They're really overreacting about the removal of a parasite that's sucking away all their magic. Discord hesitates; it's nearly enough to make him call the whole thing off. But then he catches a glimpse of Fluttershy's wet face and thousand-yard stare. He steels himself. Regardless of the personal consequences, he's got to do this for her future. "Then give the scholars full access to the Restricted Archives. I want a way through, now, without the portal," Celestia says, then turns to Starlight. "What's the latest from Sunset's world?" "No more sightings," Starlight says, her scribbling not slowing. Celestia frowns. "It's been too long. I don't like this. Why hasn't he struck yet?" "He had a change of heart?" Fluttershy whispers. Rarity gently places a hoof over hers. "I certainly hope so, darling. But that's not an assumption we can make with their world on the line. If I had to guess, he's probably still looking for other Equestrians." "If there's more than the Sirens, then nopon— nobody has discovered them yet," Starlight says. "One of Sunset's teams found the three of them and followed up on their report, by the way. But there's no sign Discord ever went to Darrell's house." "What about the list I gave you?" Darrell's ugly voice grates through his stolen body. "The office, the park, my favorite restaurants —" "Scouts are hitting them as fast as possible," Starlight interrupts. "But even though they're mobilizing everyone that Sunset or the Alternate Elements have ever worked with, they're just so short-hooved. Handed." Celestia rubs her temple. "This is useless. We need a way to do more than advise and coordinate. Luna, is there anyone else there who you can —" "Wait!" Starlight interrupts, sitting up straighter and reading in real time as a message comes in via the book. "Contact – at – Dream – Valley. D – en – route – to – school – portal." It takes him a moment. And then he facepalms so hard it snaps him out of his surveillance. Son of a timberwolf, Discord thinks. She did it again. The last time Discord underestimated Princess Luna — back when she was a bruised, dirty filly in his glorious empire of chaos — she pulled an identical kicked-puppy act and got him to gloat about how clever his hiding place for the Elements of Harmony was. Less than a week before she and her sister returned with them in tow. How did he not see this one coming? She coached her duplicate into pulling the exact same trick! And then taunted him about it — getting him to spill the information she wanted and then telling Pathetic Luna to wave the cell phone in his face! (How she did this with nothing but an interdimensional dream message to a useless human, Discord has no idea. And that only makes him madder. She can't out-think him like this. It's an outrage. He is a god.) Before, he was merely doing this to save Equestria. But now, it's personal. Sunflanks and Moon Moon are calling the shots. Harmony even said so: they're out to make a fool out of him. Well, not this time. He'll show them. There's a mad scramble of updates around the table, and crosstalk as details crawl in from the journal. The serpentine archer miniature from Spike's Ogres & Oubliettes game gets dropped on one edge of the map, near the "Dream Valley" arrow, and a red pushpin gets jabbed in at the school. Celestia barks a series of tactical orders — chief among them, scrambling the units they're using for transportation in order to get the Human Elements of Harmony back to Sunset and the statue as quickly as possible. Starlight reads and writes madly. As the table's figures are being pushed around, Luna — elbows on the table and hooves pressed together at her nose — is staring at them with a frown. Discord focuses on her with such intensity that Darrell turns his head to stare. Celestia catches his head motion out of the corner of her eye, and glances over herself. "Sister," Luna takes that opportunity to interject, "I am still reluctant to assemble the Alternate Elements at his target." "Why, Luna?" Celestia says. "It's thanks to you and your human counterpart that we have the intelligence we do. Don't start doubting yourself now." Luna's frown deepens. "An instinct nags at me that there is a crucial factor here which we have overlooked. But even were that not the case … he is a being of chaos, sister. Base urges we can predict, but whimsy we cannot. In such cases, the conservative play is the correct one." (She's not underestimating him, Discord notes proudly, and his desire for a proper rematch burns a little brighter.) Celestia unfolds a wing around Luna. "Even if we didn't know what we know, the conservative play would be assembling the Elements for a tactical strike in case reason fails. There's no further benefit to scattering them." "On the contrary. We do not know the extent of the powers Discord possesses in the other world — only that he has retained them despite a direct hit from the Elements, and that he cannot directly affect their avatars. While splitting them limits our counterstrike ability, it offers the best chance —" Luna glances meaningfully at Fluttershy — "at initiating a peaceful dialogue the next time he is spotted, regardless of any alteration in his plans." Celestia sighs. "I love you, Lulu, but you're overthinking this. We know exactly where he's going to be. Why would we want the Elements anywhere else?" "For the same reason I ordered them split them up to begin with." Luna gestures at the map. "The various reservoirs of Equestrian magic which he could drain in order to rip similar holes in the world." (Wait, what? Discord snaps to full attention.) "As long as multiple avenues remain through which he might fulfill his objectives," Luna adds, "I cannot advise leaving any of them unguarded." Celestia considers that for a moment. "Be that as it may," she says, "what she learned comes from Discord himself — and he's the antithesis of subtle, so I'm dubious of any plan requiring us to take his intentions as a feint. Besides, there's no reason to believe he even knows about any of those artifacts —" Twilight will wrap a wing around him as they watch, for the first time, the moon of a new planet rise. For the first time since Fluttershy's death, he will find himself tearing up with something besides grief. She will hug a little harder. The silence will feel a little more intimate. "What's on your mind?" he will finally ask, looking for a distraction from the thoughts swirling muddily in his head. She will laugh self-consciously. "It's stupid," she will say. "It's trivial." "No. Go on." "But it's been hundreds of years now, and I still wonder sometimes how you knew to head for the locket — you know, the one which the other me turned into 'Midnight Sparkle' with — when you tried to …" She will gesture with a hoof. "You know." Discord will place a paw over his heart. "A magician," he will repeat, as always, "never reveals his secrets." "I know." Twilight will laugh and nuzzle him. "You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that? You big goof." Her head will settle in against his chest as she listens to his heartbeat. "It's alright." He will hold her for a while, stroking the gradient of her mane. He will think about how, in the hundreds of years they've known each other, she's never broken the promise she made not to ask anyone else about that. And then, suddenly: "Honestly, it was pretty simple." He will feel her pulse quicken. "Oh?" she will ask with an extremely forced casualness. "That meeting of princesses in the war room?" he will finally, finally admit, savoring the moment, savoring the anticipation of her shocked laughter. "I was listening in —" Discord's Equestria-sight jolts upward as Darrell leaps up. WHAM! The table rattles as paw and claw impact it, scattering pieces. "He's listening in!" Darrell shouts. Luna's reaction is the best. He hasn't heard that curse in 1200 years. "And he changed his plans! But the reverse memory said where he's heading!" Right. That's his cue. Discord jerks his focus back and snaps his fingers. The window of opportunity is rapidly closing on his new target. But all he needs to triumph is a head start. The "Teleport to Twilight Sparkle" snap doesn't actually work — there's all sorts of magical interference. Baconhair and her team must be pulling out all the stops. Granted, with the resources of two worlds behind them, he shouldn't be expecting any less. Pulling a map of Twilight Sparkle's location out of his pocket, however, does. And while teleportation in general is rather fraught right now, he finds a brief eddy in the magical surge, and fills himself up with enough magical momentum to smash through the flow and land within half a block. (That's guaranteed to tip the Rainbow Squad off, especially with Luna overseeing the defenses — but everypony knows his destination now, anyway.) Discord strolls down the quiet suburban sidewalk, whistling, then steps over a six-inch picket fence and tromps through the grass alongside the path toward a large white house. As he approaches the patio, he can see scrambles of motion inside through the broad front window. Fake local Twilight Sparkle, wearing huge coke-bottle glasses, is huddled behind the sofa, clutching a box to her chest and whispering into a cell phone. Shining Armor has flattened himself up against the wall by the window, holding a baseball bat. Some other spiky-blue-haired dude has braced himself against the door, and a number of grim-faced uniformed students are taking whatever cover they can find, holding golf clubs and tennis rackets and archery-club bows. It's adorable. None of that's going to hurt him if the boulder didn't. But they're certainly making a spirited try. Discord fumbles through his pocket for an efficient solution. There's a twinge of disappointment that he can't dissolve the problem by simply snapping and turning them all into newts, but under the circumstances, a flashbang grenade through the window should work nearly as well — The screech of brakes on the road disrupts his thoughts — along with the choke of a stalled engine and the crash of a motorcycle tumbling to a stop. Boots clomp heavily on pavement. Discord turns, raising an eyebrow. A spindly white human unfolds from her rough landing, standing tall and straight. The wind, for a moment, catches her flowing white blouse and the pastel aurora of her hair. She stalks across the yard toward him like she owns the block. Radiant, calm, defiant. Sweet stars! His heart nearly leaps out of his chest in glee. He is going to get that rematch. "Celestia!" Discord shouts, hopping and clenching his fists by his chin. (Despite how crushingly disappointed Fluttershy is going to be with the situation. After all, how long has it been since Sunflanks has legitimately squared off with him, without throwing her students in the way?) "You made great time! Though I guess the commute's a lot shorter with no other traffic." "Darrell," she says — and not even her legendary gentleness can disguise the iron will behind her tone, the will that brought her here against impossible odds for a climactic battle to save a world not even her own. "I don't know where you got the idea that this world matters any less than Equestria, but we need to talk before you make a terrible mistake." It's a lovely monologue. Very heroic. Or that's his assumption, anyway — because his brain slams to a screaming halt on the very first word. "Discord," he says, fists falling, face flattening. Celestia stops dead for a moment — as if she has, for once in her immortal life, miscalculated. She swallows and takes a breath, clearly choosing her words with more care. "I know," she says softly. "You don't like the idea of having anything in common with him. But Discord and Darrell are a false distinction. Two parts of the same being." "Stop. I'm Discord." What mind game is this? Is she trying to appeal to his better half? "Somepony's getting caught up in the lie." He points an accusing finger. "And that's why I'm doing you the favor of erasing it." She spreads her hands. "Whether this world is real or not," Celestia says, "where is the lie? Darrell is somebody you could be if you wanted." Her voice softens. "Somebody loved." Okay, she's definitely working the better-half-of-him angle. And Discord doesn't even know where to start with that. "I don't even know where to start with that," he says. "A, do you think I'm doing this for attention? Two, according to the false yet juicy local mythology you're trying to invoke, we'd be destined for a rather egregious break-up. Third, the pony to be making that offer is half your height and butter yellow." Celestia steps forward, arms still spread — and, when Discord holds up a warning hand in snap position, circles wide around him, making no sudden moves. "Are you doing this for attention? I'd like you to tell me," she says gently. "All I know is what the others think. Darrell got created when the blast of Harmony hit you. So they think Harmony is trying to manifest your deepest desires. And they think you're overreacting to the truth about what those desires are." He lunges forward, teeth bared. "I'm saving Equestria!" he shouts in her face (dimly aware that his sudden outburst might tell her a different story). "This world is a parasite, growing fat off of stolen magic while our home withers away!" Celestia holds her ground with obvious effort — now between him and Fake Twilight's front door. Arms still spread wide, body squared, legs tensed and trembling. "I … don't think that's the case," Celestia says as he takes a step back to recover his composure. "But even if that's true, I'm not the one with those answers. Sunset, and Twilight, and the students — they're the ones who would know. And if it's true, they can help you fix it. So the best way to accomplish your goal is to sit down with them and talk things out." Discord narrows his eyes and glances back down at her trembling legs. Trembling. He hasn't seen Celestia tremble since the very first time he met her — a brash young filly squaring off with an untested magical artifact against the god-emperor of the world. "You know," Discord says slowly, "I'm beginning to think you're not the real Celestia." "What makes you think I'm not real?" she says with a calm that is ever-more-clearly forced. "The fact that, after getting my hopes up, you've done nothing but try to talk me down. But also, pretty much everything from the beginning, now that I'm looking." On instinct, Discord withdraws a slim metal box from his pocket with a large, bright red button on top. It doesn't even do anything besides look ominous. But when Celestia's eyes stray down to it, she instantly freezes. Discord grins wickedly. Gotcha, he thinks. This thing moves like Celestia, looks like her, sounds like her — but when the chips are down, all the tells are off. And that means he's just playing with a fake. "What if I were to tell you," he coos, hovering the finger of his other hand over the button, "that this world was never real to begin with — and that, therefore, its inhabitants mattered exactly as much as the characters in a story? What if I, as a reader of that story, had decided that it was time to close the book so my friends could move on to the next one? And what if a character of that story, claiming to be my friend the alicorn princess, showed up in front of me, asking me not to close the book?" He leans in, enjoying this a little too much. "Would she be able to do anything to prove that she's not just a sad, useless shadow of the goddess I know? Or would I press the button, and end the sound and the fury?" "Discord," she pleads, eyes wide, turning the palms of her outstretched hands upward. "I'm waiting," he cackles, dramatically lowering his finger. The principal in front of him closes her eyes, jaw trembling. Pain sears across her features — the pain of failure, of helplessness. And then an odd twitch curls the corner of her mouth, and that pain shifts. It's a serene pain Discord sees then. An old one. It's still a look of failure, but it's a failure tempered by time. A yearning rarely felt in full measure, but never distant. She opens her eyes, and those are Celestia's eyes staring back at him, deep and infinite and sad, the eyes of a love which would make any sacrifice. An angel. The back of her blouse rustles. Rips. And brilliant wings of white feathered light burst forth, shooting out a body-length beyond the tips of her outstretched arms. Discord's breath catches as he staggers a step backward, buffeted by the raw, intangible power of the Sun. Celestia, radiant and serene, arches her back — the colors of her hair blurring and coursing in some unseen wind, face lifting to the heavens as she rises above the porch. It's a short ascension; she levels off a few inches above the ground, and stares back at him through eyes of pure, glowing white. Dimly, Discord is aware of the sound of the button clattering to the ground. He gradually levers his jaw closed. "That," he finally manages. "Was unexpected." His voice seems to snap Celestia back from whatever higher state she was in. She blinks, and the pupils return to her eyes, and she sinks to the ground, wings dissolving into the aether. "Thank you," she says weakly. She sways and drops to one knee — clearly fighting just to stay conscious as the massive energy expenditure catches up with her — but there's a note of cautious hope in her voice. "Does that mean we can talk this out now?" Discord barks out a short laugh. "The thing is," he says — almost apologetically — "I know Princess Celestia's energy signature. That was real magic, yes. Your magic, not Order's, not Harmony's. It was beautiful and impossible. But it also proves you aren't her. So you're as fake as the rest of this world." He bends over in front of her helpless form and picks the big red button back up — motions slow and taunting. Principal Celestia's face twitches. But it stays calm. "Well," she says, mouth curling into a princess' wry smile. "At least I can say, when it mattered the most, I got to fulfill the wise old mentor's most time-honored duty." Discord can't quite resist gloating. "Go out in a tragic, beautiful blaze of glory that inspires the next generation?" Her smile widens into an extremely un-princessy grin. "No. Distract you until the heroes arrived." The brakes of a second motorcycle squeal. Discord's eyes widen, and he whirls around into a faceful of soccer ball. Human Dash charges in, motion-blurred with Harmonic speed, and tackles him before he can quite recover. They bounce off the wall of the garage and tumble across the lawn, Dash ending up on top. Discord reflexively raises his fingers to snap — and Dash grabs his hand, starting a patty-cake slap-fight that ends as a lime-green boot stomps down to one side of Discord's head. Human Fluttershy looms above it, hands on her hips. "I am very disappointed in you, mister," she says, and Discord freezes. She's trembling like a leaf, her voice is a hair's width from cracking, and she's clearly been fed the line by her pony counterpart, but it doesn't matter. No matter how fake, he can't fight her. It's over.