//------------------------------// // 6: "Leviathan" // Story: Celestia XVII: The Broken Princess // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// “And whereas a man can fancy Shapes he never saw; making up a Figure out of the parts of divers creatures . . . So can he also give Matter to those Shapes...” “...and… I think I’ll have the salad,” I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Neightalian dressing, on the side, please.” I folded my menu, then passed it to the waiter. I wanted to glance at the other ponies around the table, but something stopped me. Instead, I looked down at the tablecloth.  The seven of us were sitting in one of the smaller towers of the Palace. The room we were in was small and circular, with plush carpeting and a number of cozy cushions scattered about. It held a round table normally used for private conferences, but repurposed for today into a dining table. The Kitchens had spread it with an immaculate white cloth and seven place settings. The glittering silverware reflected the bluish-green light from the three big stained-glass windows, each depicting a panorama of a beautiful castle by the sea.  To my left, I heard Applejack stumble through her order—a simple sandwich of carrot greens, with a side of apple chips. I swallowed. When I had written Twilight last week, I had wanted only her to come today, but she had asked if she could invite the rest of her Ponyville friends along, too. Nothing against them, of course—but I had kinda hoped we could do this by ourselves.   But hey, I’d woken up screaming again at three-thirty this morning. Nowhere to go but up, I suppose... Rarity hemmed and hawed before settling on the soup. I felt a little flash of irritation, but quickly stifled it; though she did live here, she had only gotten back from her honeymoon, what, two weeks ago? She hadn’t had time to learn the menu like I had. Perhaps her dramatics weren’t just a show this time.  As I stared down at my plate, I felt a drop of sweat roll down the back of my neck. I had never realized how warm this room could get during the day… Pinkie Pie spent several minutes debating a series of complicated substitutions with the waiter, before finally settling on a plate of avocado toast.  I scratched idly at the tablecloth with my hoof. This was stupid. Why had I done this? I should have just sent her a card or something, not had her all the way out here for lunch… “Hayburger,” Twilight said, in cold, clipped tones. “Medium-well. Side of hay fries, thank you.” I risked an upward glance. Twilight sat almost directly across the table, staring directly at me. She wore her mane in its usual bun, her thick, black-framed glasses balanced perfectly on her nose. She hadn’t even opened her menu; ever since she had sat down, she had simply bored a hole in me with her gaze. I shrank a little, then looked away. I had screwed up, I knew I had. But still, I don’t think I deserved this much anger, not from her… Yes you do, said that evil little voice. Which of your failures does she hate you for? There’s so many to choose from, after all… The door closed, and I jerked my head up. Rainbow and Fluttershy had both ordered without me noticing. Now, the waiter had left us alone.  For a long, long time, no one spoke. A few of Twilight’s friends looked around uneasily; they would have to have been about twelve kinds of blind not to feel the tension. Rarity watched Twilight and I for a moment, then scooted her cushion a few inches closer to me, for which I shot her a grateful glance. Twilight herself just stared at me, her eyes full of hurt and anger—and, as she watched me squirm, a faint glimmer of amusement.  Finally, Twilight lit her horn, picked up her glass of water, and took a long drink. She set the glass down, crossed her forehooves on the table in front of her, and cleared her throat.  “Well,” she said in the same, curt tone. “I think we all have at least a vague idea why we’re here. I would like to start by—” “A-actually,” Applejack interjected, “I think I ain’t the only one who’s in the dark. Could ya tell us why, exactly, it’s colder’n a spring frost in here?”  I was faintly pleased to notice the look of alarm that crossed Twilight’s face. Apparently, she had assumed that everyone was already on her side—whatever side that was. But she quickly found her composure again, and hid her surprise behind a cool, impassive mask.  “As I’m sure we all remember,” Twilight began, “last month was Rarity’s wedding.”  “I’m sure we do, Darling,” Rarity interjected. “After all, a full-scale invasion of those horrid changelings is rather difficult to forget. But you can’t blame poor Cece for that,” she continued, a dramatic little whine in her voice. “I mean, even the Palace Guards were caught by surprise, including your brother, and it’s their job to—” Twilight turned and shot her a look; whatever Rarity saw in her eyes made her go quiet.  “I’m not blaming her for the changelings,” Twilight said. “However, I do take issue with—” Suddenly, Pinkie stood, her eyes wide. I looked at her in surprise; her tail was twitching in short, jerky bursts. Twilight shot an involuntary glance at the ceiling, but, before she could move, both of Pinkie’s ears swiveled towards the door.  “Pinkie?” I asked. “What’s going—?” Even before I could finish the sentence, I heard it—a set of hooves sprinting down the hallway towards us.  “Who in Eques—?” I began The door slammed open so hard it made our plates jump. Standing in the doorway, chest heaving, was Princess Luna.  “Block the door,” she gasped. Applejack stood. “Yer Highness,” she said carefully, “everything all ri—?” Luna stepped inside, then turned and slammed the doors closed behind her. She shot a beam of light at the door, and massive, glowing chains wrapped themselves around them.  But before the sound had even faded, Luna was already pacing around the edge of the room. Fluttershy squeaked as Luna pushed her out of the way, heedless of her cries. “Windows are sealed,” she muttered to herself.“Masonry’s tight—” “Princess Luna,” I said firmly, “what in the name of Tartarus are you doing—?” Luna turned and looked at me over her shoulder. She opened her mouth— And then, the air itself spoke. “Oh, come now, Your Highness,” said the voice, “no need to scare the little fillies.” Luna froze. There was no sound, aside from her ragged breathing.  “After all,” the voice added, with a hint of amusement in its tone, “you know how well that worked last time.” I swallowed, fighting down the inexplicable panic that was already rising in my chest. The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once—deep, masculine, ice-calm and velvet-smooth, almost grandfatherly… And yet, it still made me want to crawl out of my skin.  I licked my lips and, somehow, found my voice.  “T-Twilight?” I asked. “What’s going on?” It took several seconds of stunned silence before she replied.  “I… don’t know,” Twilight said at last. “I think…” “Yes, I do tend to have that effect on the ladyfolk,” the voice interrupted. It chuckled darkly, then spoke again. “Though I suppose we need to have a proper introduction, if this relationship is going to go anywhere. Your Highness, if you please…?” To my right, I heard a strange noise—a high, wordless whine. I turned and stared at Luna; her eyes were wide and unseeing and her glasses crooked. Her mouth hung open an inch or two, the sound clawing its way up out of her throat.  “Well,” said the voice. “I suppose if dear Woona finds herself indisposed… perhaps I shall have to introduce myself.” For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. I glanced around the room quizzically; Luna still stood frozen by the wall, Fluttershy cowered under the table, Applejack swallowed nervously, Rarity looked around cautiously, Pinkie watched me with wide eyes, Rainbow snarled, and Twilight— I cocked my head. Twilight stared over my shoulder, eyes wide. I was about to ask what it was she was seeing, when a movement caught my eye. I looked down at the table in front of me, where the light from the windows played across the tablecloth, and my eyes widened. Slowly, I turned to look at the window behind me—and at the shadow that towered over the seven of us. At first, I thought it was a shadow of something outside the window, its silhouette projecting itself on the stained-glass landscape. Then I thought it was something on the glass, like some crazed window-washer playing a prank. But no—as I watched it, its shadowy face split into a grin, a grin that twisted and whorled in a way that no thing made of flesh ever could. The shadow looked equine—almost. It had the right head, at least, but the rest of it was long and thin, almost stretched out, like a drawing made on silly putty. Two mismatched horns protruded from behind its ears, and limbs and wings stuck out at awkward angles. As I stared at the shadow, its head turned—and, though it didn’t have eyes, I could have sworn it looked at me.  And, for just a second, I thought I saw its smile harden... But before I could react, the shadow bowed. “I am Discord,” it said in that same icy-velvet voice, “the spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.” Luna gave a faint moan. I glanced over at her, then looked back to the window—and blinked in surprise. Had those windows always had a storm brewing over the distant hills? And, as I stared, uncomprehending, the wheels in my head spun frantically, seeking anything they could catch hold on—and a switch clicked on somewhere in the back of my brain. I stood, and, as everyone turned to look, I gave a little bow.  “The pleasure is all mine, Discord,” I said, “My name is—” “Yes yes, I know,” he said, waving one of his limbs dismissively. “Princess Celestia of House Equestria, Seventeenth of Her Name, Amicitia Magicae Est, Vive la Princesse, all that.”  I glanced nervously at Twilight, who was staring, unblinking, at the shadow. “Most perceptive,” I murmured as I turned back to him, trying to keep the unease out of my voice. “Praytell, how do you—?” “I know a great many things,” Discord interrupted. “For example…” In a split second, his shadowy form melted, then zipped over to the window on the far right, where it reformed into the same, serpentine shape. It leaned almost casually on the side of the frame, just above Pinkie Pie, who twisted around in her seat to watch him.  “...I know that Pinkie’s birthday, over here, is in two weeks,” he continued, without breaking stride.  Pinkie let out a cautious little giggle. The shadow pointed lazily. “...and that Fluttershy’s expecting a new batch of chicks any day now…” Fluttershy squeaked and scuttled deeper under the table. And then he grinned again, his same viper smile. “And I even know who dies at the end of Rainbow’s current Power Ponies collection.”  Rainbow’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare—” “Already have,” Discord said smugly. “And more importantly…” He paused dramatically to inspect the claws on one of his forelimbs “I also know,” he said, his voice deadly quiet, “where you all keep your magical stones. Or, more properly…” He splayed his claws, then brushed them on his coat. “...where you kept them.”  It took a moment for the significance of what he’d said to sink in.  Twilight’s eyes bulged. “Kept?” she repeated, her voice rising an octave. “What have you done with the Elements of Harmony?” The shadow smirked. “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out,” he said. My blood ran cold. I risked a glance at the ponies behind me: they stared back with looks of horror, rage, disgust, and fear.   “Oh, don’t worry,” Discord added, nonchalantly, as he strolled towards the center window. “I’ll give them back. If you win my little game, that is…” Something boiled up inside me. An ugly memory, of an older brother laughing, dangling his sister’s stuffed frog over her head… I snarled, then leapt to my hooves. “No,” I barked.  The shadow stopped, then looked down at me curiously.  “I won’t let you bully my friends,” I spat. “Give them back the Elements now.”  Discord grinned, his smile full of pointed fangs.  “Well,” he purred, “the kitten has claws.” “Quit patronizing me,” I spat back. “I’m not just another one of your playthings.” Discord’s smile froze. For a second, nothing seemed to happen—but soon, I realized his shadow was growing and swelling. As the room sank into darkness, I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.  “That’s where you’re wrong, Princess,” he said, his voice quiet. “There are more magic stones than just the Elements. And, as I recall, you happen to have a stone of your own. A Stone, I might add, that you left unguarded on the mantel over the fireplace in your bedroom this morning.” He held up a claw clenched into a fist, then opened it, palm upwards; as he did, a little blob of shadow floated upwards from his palm and formed into an eight-pointed silhouette, a silhouette that had greeted me every morning since the day my mother died.  I gasped, the sound tearing from my throat like a wounded animal.  “Indeed,” Discord said, with only a hint of a grin. “So I would encourage you to think very hard, Your Highness, before you insist you are not one of my playthings. For you find yourself in the enviable position of being the crown jewel of the lot.” He smiled another cold, humorless smile. “Or, perhaps more properly, the Peytral jewel.” As I stared at him, my legs started trembling, and my vision began to swim. I opened my mouth to speak, but I had no idea what I was going to say. What do you say to someone when they tell you they’ve stolen the only reason you exist? The one thing that, literally, makes the world go round?  Thankfully, Rarity saved me.  From behind me, I heard her growl. “What’s your game, then?” she snapped.  Discord turned away—and, the second he did, I could breathe again. I swallowed, hard, and locked my knees into place. I took several deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm my nerves. Somewhere far away, Discord spoke:  “My game?” he repeated. “It’s very simple, actually. To find what I’ve taken from you, just find the place where all things are lost. You won’t even have to travel far to do it—I’m capricious, not cruel—” “You know what she means,” Twilight said, her voice just as cold. “What are you getting at? Why steal the Stones?” Discord clicked his tongue disdainfully.  “It’s not like you to ignore an authority figure when they’re talking, dear Twiley,” he said. “Furthermore, I believe I’ve already explained myself adequately. Or did you not catch the ‘Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony’ thing?” I swallowed, hard. I managed to force down the vomit in my throat, just as Applejack spoke.  “Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony, eh?” she asked. “Why in Equestria should we believe you, then?” For a moment, there was silence. I looked up, and saw Discord in the window, staring at Applejack. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickled up in rage.   “Because, dear Applejack,” he said finally, “I said you could. I do not make promises lightly. If I promised that I could make pigs fly, then it would behoove you to start shopping for a better raincoat. So when I promise that, if you win my little game, you will get your baubles back, then you better hope to Tartarus that you have the skills to win.” He leaned forward again, malice radiating off him like waves of heat. “You have my word that I will keep our deal,” he said. “And I am a being of my word.”