//------------------------------//
// Bravery alone 
// Story: Foal Necromancer: Soul's Rebirth 
// by Bold Promise 
//------------------------------//


~~~ ⚕ ~~~



Of the six Bearers, I found Pinkie Pie to be quite charming. That said, after a decade with minimal social interaction, the hyperactive girl was tiring for me to interact with; or rather, I should be referring to her as a mare, the way I've heard being said until now.

While she was carelessly hopping along, leading me and Porcelain down stairs, through hallways, then into the ballroom, she once again forgot that I couldn’t keep up with her yard(*)-a-second rambling. Instead of trying in vain to keep up with her words, I took stock of my affiliation with them. I recalled them telling me that they wished to aid me in my attempt to turn a new page in my life, so I deliberated what said ‘aid’ might entail.

They were young. They seemed like eager, earnest individuals. Their personalities were as contrasting from one another as they could get, yet the girls held each other in unmistakable rapport, covering for each others' shortcomings. It wasn’t a matter of them merely being coworkers, my spirit sight allowed me to recognize that they genuinely cared for one another.

Although it was quite stirring, their cooperation was nonetheless the only thing I respected them for.

I insisted to Luna that it was only a matter of time before they would strike me down at the first hint of anything resembling a pretext. They might be friendly now, but they would inevitably keep digging, pushing and forcing me to conform until they realized that I couldn't change to the point they wanted me to. Luna rebutted that she would be watching the girls intently, and would tear into them herself at the first hint of treachery, yet that it was still important that I gave the six 'heroes' a chance.

Black and white mentality and frivolity in accusing another, due to carefree lives and general inexperience. Recklessness due to lack of failure, the reassurance of an echo chamber which their group offers eagerly to one another. The accomplishments of saving the world repeatedly, by bravely scaling insurmountable odds through heedless use of an unfathomable weapon. Bravery alone does not a victor make. These weren't heroes, they were just children caught in the midst of events beyond their understanding.

Luna insisted that their strength did not lie in martial ability, wisdom or adaptability, but in something foreign to me that was imperative that I understood. Far be it for me to not offer her the basic courtesy of trusting her word. At the very least, to stand by my word given to Cross Heart, that I would give this world a chance before dismissing it and its denizens.

I decided to give the six 'heroes' the benefit of the doubt long enough to not overlook whatever it was that Luna wanted me to find. That said, my already strained attention wavered when it came to the disgustingly optimistic pink mare.

‘[...]obably think natural selection is unnatural, how full of themselves. Harmony, is it? Such a wondrous and unassuming thing to associate your species to. Such a disarming guise.’

“Ronnie?”

‘Like any religion, it merely allows for different excesses through loopholes.’

"Hey, Ronnie!"

‘Different targets to direct one's fears and dissatisfac-’

"Ronnie!"

"Oh yore gohds! What?!"

There was the noise of people busily preparing for the festivities around the ballroom. My spirit sight picked up Pinkie standing next to someone.

The party pony spoke, “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

I would’ve offered a reprisal, however between my poor comprehension of the language and the fact that I was, indeed, daydreaming again, I decided to bite my tongue instead.

After a sigh of resignation, I responded, “I’m lis-te-ning.”

The figure next to Pinkie Pie spoke, “I tried to greet you, kid, but you seemed a little spaced out there.”

I took a while to recall the name of whom I've heard that voice from again. She was the boisterous one, wasn’t she? I pointed at her, “Dash?”

“That’s me,“ she met my outstretched hoof with her own in a form of greeting. “Happy to see you’re out of your tower, kid. We should hang out when Pinkie’s done with you.”

“What do you-”

Before I could finish my sentence, my surroundings shifted and I found myself in front of someone else. The sounds of the walking and chatting in the ballroom were replaced with more hectic banging of pots and pans, and shaking and mixing of food over lit stoves.

Which I took note of after I gathered my bearings, after I fell off Porcelain's back. I also took note of the squeak sound my head made upon impact with the floor.

“Oh dear!” Porcelain exclaimed while pulling me close. I assumed her dismay was over my fall, as well as the sudden change in surroundings.

Pinkie spoke, “Hey Applejack! You busy? I got a colt here who could use some grub! And also maybe he could give some last-minute input?”

A short delay later, the farmer answered, “Hey there, Prince. Ah’ll get a spread done in a jiffy. Anything in particular you want to tide ya over?”

Setting aside my annoyance, I considered the forced smile I could hear from the farmer. A brief channel of my Spirit Sight confirmed her antipathy directed at me. I suspected it had something to do with my dark and deviant history rubbing her humble and traditionalist upbringing the wrong way. Aside for other personal and non-personal issues, I suspected.

“A fruit would be nice.”

“Alright, fruit it is.” Applejack handed me an apple. I didn’t know whether to be surprised or relieved. “You behave now, ya hear?”

The next moment my surroundings shifted again.

“My goodness, Miss Pie! Stop doing that!”

“Stop what?” Pinkie asked with what I knew was a stupid look of fake ignorance on her face.

I couldn't really offer any satisfactory input myself at the time. All I could say was, "Not fun."

That seemed to hit the mark regardless. "Come on, Ronnie! It too was fun!"

"Porcelain does not like it. I get con-fuze. No one is have-ing fun."

"Confused, sir."

"Yes, that."

The pink mare was still holding on to her drive by a thread, "Didn't you like it even a little bit?"

Porcelain said with finality, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll just have to find a different crowd."

"Oh. Sorry." Pinkie’s spirit seemed to deflate a tad, before she bounced right back, addressing whomever she took us to. “Anyway, hey girls. How’s decoration?”

"Ahem," an as-of-yet unknown voice rang out.

"You need some water for that cough?" was Pinkie's retort, doing an excellent job of playing the fool again. I took a bite out of my apple, and involuntarily let out a sound of approval.

I guessed the owner of the strange voice gave a deadpan, while eager Twilight took the initiative, "It's going very well, Pinkie! The curtains and banners are all geometrically aligned, the tables are spread evenly throughout the room minus the dancing area and music stage in the center-"

"It's all ready, darling," went a more sophisticated voice, at least she was determined to make herself sound that way. "It took a great amount of arguing, but we eventually came to a consensus."

"Speak for yourself, I'm just about to go deliver my report."

In a tone betraying a suppressed long-suffering sigh, Rarity addressed the nameless voice, "Formal Note, as I've said before, your input is appreciated, but only if it's constructive. So far, all you did was shoot down everything we suggested-"

She barely had time to finish before this man intervened, "That's merely because none of your suggestions were up to Canterlot standard! If you stopped to conside-"

I finished my apple, core and all, and discarded the stem.

"Excuse me," my words rang out sufficiently coherently for once, if I were to judge. "Who asked you to be here?"

I could only imagine the look of surprise that the stallion was making. It was quite simple, unless whoever sent this fool here was one of the two ruling Diarchs, his authority in the matter was as substantial as Rarity allowed. I was there when Celestia appointed the six girls with final say in how the preparations went.

So, either this fellow was here due to meddlesome bureaucratic reasons that even Celestia could not forego, andhe was here to 'supervise' or some such; or someone of questionable position but varying incompetence and/or foolishness arranged for this buffoon to interfere with a royal decree for non-job-reasons.

And a royal ward just asked him who it was that sent him. Now, I was no expert, but going by the sudden spike of fear I could smell from this fellow, it would appear that my hunch was correct. My own standing was not Luna's, he could brush me off or criticize me as he pleased, but the act of either outright lying or undermining me or either one of those following royal decree (namely any of the six Bearers) would be another matter.

He took a calming breath. "L-lord Acheron. I am merely working in the Crown's best interes-"

I cut him right off, as he did to the seamstress before. "On whose dir-ec-tion?" Before he decided to try to hide behind his thumb, or make a run for it, I added, "Say it, or I will say it was on yours."

Rarity decided to try the conciliatory role, "Now now, Asclepius dear. I'm certain he didn't mean any-"

"It was Prince Blueblood, sir. Please don't mind me."

Immediately, Rarity's line of dialogue ended like a broken string. I was not channeling my Spirit Sight yet I still perceived an intense flare of indignation from her. There was also the matter of everyone taking a step away from her, except for Footnote who was rooted in place in fear.

Her voice was strained, her tone was unmistakably that of someone forcing down a vicious grimace under a struggling smile, "I see. Well, Formal Note, you'd best be on your way. We'll handle everything from here on."

The stallion took a few moments to pull together the presence of mind before finally running off like his tail was on fire.

Porcelain offered, "Prince Blueblood is the master of the royal household, Miss Rarity. His obligations include managing any matters that concern how the public sees the royal family, in this case how they receive Prince Acheron. I suspect he will come to address us shortly."

I kept a straight, slightly sympathetic face, "How the public sees me? I do not envy him."

Rarity retorted, her indignation receding to a simmer, "Don't waste your sympathy on Blueblood, dear. That ungentlecoltly foal can handle himself. It's everypony that's forced to be around him that you should feel sorry for."

Porcelain nodded knowingly, "He can be… Difficult. He is only slightly worse than most nobles."

"Isn't he Ce-le-sti-a's grand-child?" I asked.

Rarity offered my words the minimum amount of consideration, "Great grandchild, but don’t let her hear that. Everypony related to her call her aunt for a reason. And yes, he may be her blood, but he most certainly does not show it."

"You would think she would prevent her… 'neph-yew' from turning too disage-ugh…"

She picked up my slack, "Disgraceful?”

“Yes.”

“I would have to agree, dear. Alas, it is quite a shame. Perhaps one day he might consider improving his behaviour, but until then we must deal with him as he is."

I was about to ask if she meant killing him, but stopped myself.

However, it seemed Twilight saw me opening and closing my mouth, “You wanted to say something, Acheron?”

‘Blast.’ “No, I just… don’t think my presence is needed.”

"Aww, you want to leave?" Pinkie protested.

Rarity took initiative again, "Now now, he may leave whenever he wants." She addressed me next, "Actually, I suppose it will get a little troublesome soon, so go right ahead. You can find Fluttershy in the garden, if you want. Rainbow Dash is probably there as well"

I nodded and turned my head to Porcelain to lead us away. She picked me back up on her back, which I did not protest to, and gave me a piggy back ride away (yey). Behind us, Rarity went on, "Pinkie dear, how about you give us your opinion on the streamers we should use? Twilight believes flowers would be better-"

"At a colt's party? Twilight, are you crazy!"

"Well Spike never complained," was the scholar's uncertain answer. I imagined this Spike fellow was in dire need of a male role model.



~~~ 🌙 ~~~



It took me close to an hour to finish everything. By the end, I had a stack of thirty-four sheets outlining a few things: To whom fell authority of the Night Guard; how updates and contact would be maintained with me pertaining to any and all Incursion activity, as well as any other critical development which would require my aid; the details of a restraining order keeping any and all reporters, nobles, what have you, from approaching me or my son outside of very detailed exceptions; the fact that just because I was delegating my responsibilities meant that I was renouncing my status, not my heritage (which alone required twenty pages); finally, regarding my adoption of Acheron.

‘He isn’t old enough to sign anything, he only needs to express his consent to an official agent. Which he will no doubt do out of pragmatism. I would, however, like it if he agreed due to more reason than just pragmatism.’

I worked the kinks out of my shoulders. I didn’t have a secretary to drop my documents on top of, so I stashed them in my pocket subspace(**) for later dropping.

In truth, the country was run by the parliament, my sister and I merely being involved whenever tides needed breaking, or when reforms needed weighed. What Celestia actually kept herself busy with all day were mostly the domestic matters and ails of the more humble ones among our ponies, as well as her personal economic ventures which she mostly dedicates to making our ponies’ lives better. As for myself, aside for managing the Night Guard or burning my time on frivolous arts, all I had to use my work desk for were whatever Celestia either felt I’d want to have a say in, or wanted a second opinion on. 

I didn’t receive anything of the sort lately-

<Pop> <Pap>

...I just received such documents, my sister’s magic easily recognized in the teleportation spell that suddenly dropped them on the edge of my desk. Because of course she was aware when I had time to spare.

One document was a request for additional guards received from an outlying town. Celestia already attached a lengthy response explaining that all guards have been sent out with careful consideration, and that any further requests of the sort needed to be forwarded through the officers stationed there. It was nice of her to keep me in the loop.

Another document was an update from one of the coordinating officers detached to such positions. The populace were adjusting well to the increased military presence, but the guards themselves were another matter. They were going to follow their orders with the same discipline as ever, but they weren’t looking forward to putting themselves in danger for Acheron’s sake. I needed to keep in mind how important it was for the boy to make a good impression today.

I regarded another letter quizzically. It was written shakily, as if the transcriber was rushed.

‘I accept your invitation, but I’ll be using it when I darn well please! Also, congratulations. I’m very happy for you. Don’t expect a gift.’ Signed from Dragon Lord Torch.

‘He actually deemed to offer an answer? He must’ve been in a good mood. It’s definitely more than I can say about Lord Ironhorn.’(***)

While the Zebra and Gryphon dignitaries have already arrived, they merely stayed in their rooms to rest until the event began. I remembered I would need to introduce Acheron to each of them in turn.

The two final letters however were what upset me. It appeared Princess Eloise and Empress Hinode were arriving personally. Blueblood should be receiving them personally.

'I most certainly do not envy the stallion. He may be an effeminate foal, but even he has enough sense to try and reel in his obnoxiousness, as opposed to the shameless, fresh and profiteering thief of a wannabe princess, or the unrelenting, backwards-thinking god complex ‘empress’.’ I considered the fact that aside for meeting and ‘buttering up’ the two unrepentant mares, my nephew has already been busy doing so not just with the other nobles, but the press as well. ‘It’s his job. Though I can’t imagine it was easy before, let alone now that he needs to cover for Acheron. I should thank him, or at the very least offer my help. Although we are both aware of my lack of patience with the two mares’ type, I believe he’d at least appreciate someone covering his flank.’

I picked out his magical signature in the ballroom. He seemed to be in the company of three of the Bearers, coincidentally enough.

Perhaps they were discussing any final touches regarding the festivity’s preparations.

After a few moments of casting, I teleported behind my nephe-

<SPLAT>

There was a chorus of gasps around the ballroom followed by silence. I took note of something wet and sticky dripping from my face. Removing the substance from my eyes, I inspected it to discover it was a slice of pie. The fragments that entered my mouth had the taste of apple pie.

“Did I just teleport into a food fight?”

Fair Rarity looked like she was about to faint, a look which merely intensified when Blueblood opened his mouth, “Auntie, are you alright?”

“At least you ducked instead of using your aunt as a living shield!” Rarity blurted out in a panic.

That seemed to incense my nephew, “You have the gall to act indignant now?!” His shouting surprised the seamstress, going by the step she took back and her lowered ears. 

"That's quite enough," I intervened.

"But auntie-"

"No buts, Blueblood. There was no harm done." a quick swipe of magic later, I was as clean as I was seconds before. "It was just a pastry."

He was utterly flummoxed. It seemed he wished to object again, but was smart enough to abstain.

“At any rate,” I turned my attention to the mare, “why exactly was there food being thrown around?”

My nephew opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again when I fixed him with a look. Miss Rarity seemed most reluctant to answer.

“I may have taken exception to something he said.”

“Oh. I understand.” I nodded, then turned my ire her way. “Of course, I cannot agree with trying to drive my nephew off like an animal whenever he says something aggravating. What exactly was it he said?”

“He- uhm, we were in disagreement over who was responsible for our date going poorly during the last Galloping Gala. He even went so far as to sabotage my preparing Prince Acheron’s welcoming party.”

“I did no such thing!” I gave the stallion a critical look. He shuffled in place for a few moments before rectifying, “Though I did send somepony to offer Miss Rarity constructive criticism on the matter.”

“Well then it would seem you were not very clear with Formal Note on the ‘constructive’ part of your instructions.”

I interrupted before Blueblood could make more of a foal of himself. “I believe I’ve heard quite enough. You’re both being childish.” I ignored them both babbling incoherently as I took the decorations in. “It is all lovely. I thank you for your efforts, Miss Rarity, regardless of any eventual sabotaging. Now, could you two please behave yourselves for the rest of the night, or will I have to ask the guards to chaperone you?”

They settled their inability to communicate, Blueblood settled into a half-bow and answered, “No, auntie, we will behave.” Rarity nodded.

“Good.” I looked around the ballroom and offered a critical look to those who decided to gawk at us, they immediately went back to doing what they were doing before. Young Twilight, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were pretending they were not looking our way a moment ago.

The remaining two bearers were approaching from the garden, with Acheron and his maid in tow. They were likely attracted by the commotion.

“Also, nephew. I trust you’ve heard that we are expecting two more foreign guests?”

“You mean their Highness Princess Eloise the twenty-third and Empress Tsukikoe Hinode? Yes, I have been informed. I have everything ready for their reception.”

“Well done. Do tell me if you need help dealing with them.”

He offered a curt nod, “I will, auntie. Thank you.”

I took in Acheron's appearance, doll in hoof and sharply dressed.

"Are you enjoying yourself, my colt?"

He shrugged, "Taking break from studying."

"Indeed, you have been working hard, haven't you? I'm certain there is something we can do to have 'fun' tonight."