//------------------------------// // On the topic of taboo // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Not long after the last ship departed, another approached. Sundance watched as it drew nearer, and mused over the idea that perhaps he should learn to appreciate the moments of peaceful boredom. Things would quiet down eventually, that much was certain, but for now it seemed, life would remain busy. The ship drifted closer, with the sun behind it, and a spectacular smear of brilliant pink-orange clouds, the herald of what was sure to be an awe-inspiring sunset.  He stretched his wings, gave himself a gentle shake, and then returned his gaze to the distant ship. Now he thought about Princess Celestia and her departing words, along with everything else said to him. She was gone, and already, he missed her. Something about just having her around made life better. He thought of her, her departure, and could not help but notice how the sun was setting. It was the end of the day, a long, blessed day, and now came the dark sacred night.  Whatever might happen tomorrow was unknown.  The gatehouse was his castle—at least it was sort of a castle. He discovered (much to his own surprise) that he was still just young enough—or perhaps just immature enough—that the idea of living in a fort thrilled him. When he was a colt, he made forts out of couch cushions, chairs, and blankets. Now he had a mighty castle! Well, not exactly. He had a box canyon with a gatehouse—but at least he had parapets he could stroll along. At least, he thought they were called parapets, but he wasn’t totally certain. Sure, he was probably going to freeze to death during the winter, and perhaps bake during the summer, but he had a castle. All he needed now was a rowdy rabble of rapscallion pirates and all of his foalhood dreams would come true.  For the first time, Sundance noticed the mooring ring atop the belltower.  While he stood there with his eyes affixed upon the large brass ring, he had the idea that the barony really needed an airship of some kind. The railroad depot was too far away to be of much use, at least for now, and any goods that the barony produced would need to be moved. He had his sky truck, which was serviceable, but it could only carry so much cargo. An airship would be practical, though perhaps expensive to own and operate. Now that he had a castle, he decided that he needed an airship as well.  It was good to have dreams…    Sundance could not recall a time when Rustic looked worse than he did right now. Disheveled, distressed, and perhaps a bit discombobulated. There were huge bags beneath his eyes, and he appeared as though he had aged. Sundance hoped that some rest and relaxation would restore his friend; maybe a long soak in a hot spring might help. Turmeric looked a little better, but still pretty weary.  “So,” Sundance said to his friends, “what’s happening? You left with a lot of things unsaid.”  Rustic, his mustache sagging, stood there with a resigned sigh. He glanced sidelong at Turmeric, and after yet another weary sigh, he returned his full attention to Sundance. Turmeric strained against the sheer load he carried, which included several boxes as well as attachés, and somehow, he managed to smile.  “Some things will remain unsaid, for now.” Rustic lifted his head, gave Sundance a nod, and then said in a thin, strained voice, “There needs to be a big talk. The future of the barony is at stake. We have about twenty four hours or so to sort things out, and the final paperwork must be turned in no later than teatime tomorrow. Clock is ticking, Sundance.”  “Oh…” Sundance stood there, unmoving.  “We need smarts,” Turmeric said. “Go find Paradox and Corduroy. I mean, they are your advisors, right?”  “They are,” Sundance replied, “though I still don’t know the right term for Corduroy’s position. I mean, she’s my nurse, but so much more.”  “Well, fetch her. And maybe some food and tea.” Turmeric looked hopeful and for the first time, his ears pricked. “Mmm, food… I haven’t eaten since—”  “Yesterday,” Rustic said, finishing Turmeric’s sentence. “Been even longer for me.”  “I’ll go fetch Corduroy and Paradox right away.” Sundance took a moment to consider the needs of his fatigued friends, scowled, and wasn’t sure what to do. “Go inside. Make yourselves comfortable. There’s no furniture yet, not really, and I’m not sure what we’ll do about lights.” “We’ll figure something out,” Rustic said. “There are lanterns in the airship.”   Paradox whispered something reassuring to the floating globe of light to get it to stay in the darkened corner where she cast it. There were other lights she’d cast, and they all seemed just fine, but this particular illuminated orb was apparently afraid of the dark and wanted to follow Paradox. Sundance just didn’t understand magic, and from the looks of things, neither did Corduroy, who was left out of sorts after witnessing the achluophobic floating ball of light.  Geiger Tiger sat atop one of Turmeric’s many bags and the curious beast kept watch over the contents within. Owlister—far too curious than any owl had a right to be—kept trying to stick her head into the bags to investigate their contents. The floating orb refused to remain in the corner, and with a huff of annoyance, Paradox gave up on her attempts to reassure the overly-mobile light source, which now followed her as she returned to the center of the room.  It maintained a tight orbit around the unicorn mare’s horn.  “Having trouble?” asked Corduroy.  “Magic is sometimes perverse,” Paradox replied.  “Vexatious hexes abound.”  “Hexes are illegal and unpardonable.” Paradox’s posture turned prim and proper. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but every good unicorn lives in fear of hexes. Even the rumour of a hex can be enough to ruin one’s life and destroy one’s reputation. You can be forgiven for dark magic, granted leniency, but hexes are unforgivable.”  “I had no idea.” Corduroy shrugged one shoulder and gestured for Paradox to sit down beside her.  Somewhat mollified, Paradox accepted the silent invitation, sat down, and said, “Hexes are not mentioned in polite company around unicorns. The mere word alone bears an awful social stigma.”  “Hmm,” Corduroy hmmed, her manner sincere. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future. Might I ask, what’s the difference between dark magic and a hex?”  This made Paradox hiss like a teakettle and she drew away from Corduroy while the shivering orb of light huddled against her horn. “Dark magic comes from within a unicorn… it’s magic that is… I want to say soured. It’s more than that, but it flows from a unicorn’s evil nature. A hex”—her face twisted with revulsion—“is channeled magic. It is when you allow your body to be used as a conduit. The magic can come from all manner of vile sources, such as demons, befouled spirits, necromantic energy, free-roaming souls, and things of that nature.”  “So hexes are external magic… which… pollutes you in some way?”  “Correct, Corduroy.”  “Sounds foul.”  “Oh, it is.”  “Could we not discuss this while I’m eating?” asked Rustic. His mustache rose and fell while he chewed and he cast a baleful glance at the source of the conversation.  “See?” Paradox raised her hoof and pointed in Rustic’s direction. “We unicorns do not discuss this in polite company. We’re not even supposed to say the word. It’s a sort of taboo.”  “Every tribe has taboos that the other tribes don’t understand that well,” Turmeric said to no one in particular. “Pegasus ponies have all kinds of taboos and social customs. They seem silly to me, but what do I know? I’ll tell you what I do know… I know that you don’t say that word. Unicorns raised by unicorns tend to be strict about it, while unicorns raised by pegasus ponies or earth ponies tend to not fully understand the severity of this taboo.”  Paradox blushed, started to say something, but then held her tongue.  “We dogs are not supposed to lick ourselves in public.”  “Corduroy…” Rustic’s eyes narrowed, his ears fell back, and his mustache quivered alarmingly. Whatever he was about to say remained unsaid.  No such compunction could be found in Turmeric, and he asked, “Corduroy… can you… lick… yourself… down there... I mean… I don’t want to be rude…”  “I am very flexible,” was Corduroy’s polite reply.  Sundanced gawped.  “Now we’re all thinking about it.” Turmeric glanced around the room, but his eyes failed to meet Corduroy’s. He had a crazy coltish grin, but there was also a hint of guilt to be seen in his eyes. After a silly giggle, he crammed some food into his mouth, and resigned himself to silence while he ate.  A small fire burned in the immense fireplace, more for light and good cheer than for heat. Geiger Tiger lay sprawled out on the hearthstones, and at the moment he lay with his belly facing the fire. Papers were spread out everywhere, as well as ledgers of all types and styles. In the middle of it all was Rustic, who seemed curiously revived after a meal and a spot of tea. Poor Turmeric however, was still droopy, but still somehow alert, though his eyes lacked focus.  “Well, Sundance, I suppose now is the time to tell you what’s going on, and my plan to fix everything.” Eyes glittering with reflected firelight, Rustic smoothed his mustache while he settled back on his haunches.  Rather than speak and cause further delay, Sundance maintained his silence.  “As you know, you have a lot of debt, and it is spread to quite a number of creditors.” A pause, a deep breath, and then Rustic continued, “Somehow they got wind of the economic forecast of this place improving a bit, and as I told you, they had plans to become partners—unwanted partners. These are vulture capitalists… not the sort of investors you want around, because they don’t invest. They only pick the choicest bits from the carcass and their very presence makes it impossible to gain the attention of regular investors, which are the very sorts we need if we’re going to bring this place to life. “The arrival of the vultures would’ve been a death sentence, and Raven knew it. Which is why, I suppose, she gave me early warning. Rather than help dig you out of the hole, the vultures would only offer you shovels, which are on loan, of course, with exceptional interest rates, and they’d tell you to dig your own grave. Well, I wasn’t having that.”  “Thankfully, Rustic has a plan,” Turmeric said while he lifted up a teacup that no longer steamed.  “Which I’ve already put into motion.” Rustic grinned, his mustache crinkled, and his ears made a sincere effort to rise from their fatigue-induced droop. “We’re going to turn the barony into a corporate entity—”  “We’re what?” Sundance blinked a few times, and tried to process what had just been said.  “We’re going to turn the barony into a corporate entity and exploit corporate law—”  “Rustic, I am not so sure about this…”  “Sundance, this is not only the best way forward, it is the only way forward.”  “I might need convincing.” While he wished he were smarter, Sundance tried to make sense of just what was happening, but it didn’t take him long to realise that he was in over his head. He had no clue what was going on—which meant that he had to trust his friends.  “We can turn the barony into a corporate cooperative.” Turmeric held his teacup away from his lips, but still close enough so that he might inhale the fragrant aroma. He inhaled through his nose, blinked several times, and then with renewed focus, he turned to Sundance. “We can ensure that the residents here all have an equal share of dividends… I think I’m saying that right.” “You are, Turmeric.” Leaning forward a little while also rubbing his ribs, Rustic spent a moment staring into Sundance’s eyes before he said, “The first step has already been taken, Sundance. I’ve already secured a sizable payment on your loans, but to do so, I had to take liens against my business and myself.”  A slow, low groan escaped Sundance, and for a second, he feared that his response might seem ungrateful. He inhaled, found no words that he could say, exhaled, and wracked his brain for a suitable response. As the pressure closed in on him, and feeling more and more self-conscious with each passing second, he finally made his tongue and his brain cooperate.  “Now I feel that I have to commit to whatever comes next.” Then he asked, “Why? Why would you do this?”  “Because I believe in what you are doing here,” was Rustic's unflinching response. “I couldn’t cover everything, but I did manage a majority of the controlling interest. Not too bad if I do say so myself. I’m worth far, far more than I thought. I called in some favours from my friends and clientel, many of which are investors, because investors make expeditions happen.  “I was able to secure the interest of an anonymous investment group, which is why everything has to be ready to go tomorrow by teatime. All the papers signed. Which means we need to get this whole mess sorted out. If we don’t do this, the anonymous investors move on to the next investment opportunity—”  “And you’re stuck with my debt,” Sundance said to his friend.  “It was a risk, Sundance. I took it. Look, we’ve talked. I’ve already bared my heart to you and you know how I feel about what you’re doing here. This place… you… I believe in what you are doing here, I believe in this place, and I believe in our friendship. No matter what happens next, the risk was worth taking.” “I don’t know what to say.” Almost shrugging, his muscles clenched tight, his back aching from the tension, Sundance wasn’t sure how to handle this, or what to do.  “The future of the barony will be decided tonight.” Turmeric took a sip of tea, swallowed, licked his lips, and then set his teacup down upon the floor beside him. “That’s why we’re here. To sort this out. Together. As friends.”  Eyes downcast, Sundance shook his head, doubtful that such a choice could be made in one night—even a full week seemed too short a time. Corduroy’s paw touched his wing and when he turned to look at her, he suddenly felt hopeful, though he could not say why. Turmeric was right; this was too big of a decision to make alone, and he was thankful that his friends were here.  He turned to face Rustic, a friend that had given so much already, and he nodded.  “Alright then… let’s discuss some details. If I am going to make a decision, I need to understand what is going on, and what the plan is. I don’t think you’d do this if you didn’t already have a plan to save your own neck, as well as mine, so let me hear it, Rustic. What will these investors be investing in? How do we revive the barony… and can we do it without being scumbags?”  “Well,” Rustic replied, drawing the word out to a considerable length, “as it turns out, I do in fact have a plan…”