“Good! You seem to have picked up the basics of leyline manipulation faster than I thought,” Commander Shifting Sands commented, the leader of the Lunar Knights watching the stallion in front of him continue an exercise. “The key with leyline energy is to not force it; it doesn’t work like that. The energy is there, all you’re doing is tapping into it, diverting a small amount for your own purposes. That is what you need to keep in mind and why you had that blowback on the previous exercise.”
“Interesting,” Toxic Shield mused, the blue unicorn stepping off the platform with a shake of his head. The green biohazard cutie-mark that matched a stream in his black mane was as visible as it had been over two decades ago, the young colt having shrugged off the effects of the nightmare which surrounded a previously jovial event.
Yet he was not unscathed.
“If I am to be honest, Commander, I do hope to utilize leylines in an active manner. I have a friend who aids with my equipment, and I think this form of energy could help power it. I’m not sure if permissions are required however,” Toxic voiced.
The silver and blue-crystal amulet around his neck flashed softy, and while Toxic’s mouth moved, the voice that delivered the words emanated from the odd necklace; emotions dulled and without much variation.
The price of survival was a fickle thing. Without the enchanted device, the stallion’s voice would cause nearly every creature within earshot to wince in pain due to the odd frequency, pony, gryphon, or otherwise.
“No permission needed, Specialist Shield,” Shifting chuckled, “in fact, if you friend can find a way to harness leyline energy in a device, I know a certain Princess of Friendship who would love to see the calculations. From what I understand, the energy highly dislikes being used in technology, and while some remote civilizations have managed it, such a thing has eluded us in Equestria.”
Toxic nodded, then pausing with a grin as his bright green eyes lit up.
“Understood. And Commander? Congratulations by the way. I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you these past weeks,” he said with a smile, amulet still able to convey an amount of sincerity and happiness.
The dark silver engagement bracelet on Shifting’s forehoof flashed softly in the light, the stallion chuckling.
“Thank you, Toxic. A long engagement may seem like an odd thing to many. But when time blends together, it puts things in perspective. A year means different things, I’ve come to realize.”
Toxic nodded, not able to resist a smile as Shifting’s gaze turned slightly wistful, the Commander then shaking his head with a huff.
“Enough of that; you were trying to get me to forget your homework, weren’t you?”
Toxic placed a forehoof over his brow dramatically, an exaggerated pout on his features.
“Commander, I am pained with the insinuation!” he replied, a slightly guilty expression now dawning. “But perhaps.”
“Studying for three weeks and already wanting to evade my carefully crafted tasks! For shame!” Shifting teased back, the older stallion then levitating a parchment over. “But here you are. As I have said before, the leylines aren’t some dead form of energy to be tapped like a water main. They have an ebb and flow, and a strange consciousness at times. They can become acclimated to you, so the more time you spend becoming familiar with the energy, the easier it can be to muster.”
“Understood.”
A flashing light interrupted any further conversation, Toxic saluting the Commander with a grin.
“Duty calls?” the leader of the Lunar Knights asked, Toxic nodding curtly as a teleportation spell swirled around his body.
“Always does. Talk to you later, Commander.”
Two Weeks Later…
“Thank you! It’s been hours since we were able to even go in there, and we were sure if we were even going to open back up, and I think…” the stallion rambled as Toxic fought back a visible wince.
“I’m just glad to help. Give it a few minutes for the air circulation to kick on, and things will be back to normal.”
The factory worker nodded happily, following his fellow ponies back towards the main entrance as Toxic meandered to where his pile of emergency gear sat, completely unused.
A hot-sauce plant.
They called me because of…Hot. Sauce.
Furious didn’t even describe the emotions coursing through Toxic’s veins. Not at the workers, no, it wasn’t their fault by far.
Very few had any idea the mental preparations the stallion had to undergo after each call. And for two weeks it had all been futile. Such calls had slowed down his inspection of the chemical labs around Equestria, some sort of threat causing his normal duties to be of the highest priority.
I haven’t slept a full night ever since this started. And why haven’t they re-analyzed the duty roster yet?
“Control, this is Specialist Shield,” Toxic hissed into the crystal, the amulet not able to conceal his distaste. “Is there any progress on my urgent request?”
“Still in review, Toxic,” a mare’s voice echoed back, then dropping to a whisper. “The new supervisor, look, I don’t get it either, sorry.”
It wasn’t her fault of course, but clearly somepony didn’t get a lengthy memo.
“No worries, not your fault Linen- I’ll take it up with somepony else. Thanks,” Toxic then switched to a different frequency. “Toxic to control. Be advised if I am called on another superfluous assignment, I will be sending my immediate resignation. An accidental release at a hot sauce factory is not within my contract requirements. Expect to hear from a higher authority than I about the matter.”
A certain supervisor’s voice came over the radio in protest, but Toxic simply shut it off with a screech.
I don’t trust my self-control with that fool.
The stallion took off the microphone, carefully organizing his equipment with hooves that shook with pent up stress.
And to think they also cut my wage to hourly instead of per assignment? Not even a thousandth of what I made before. What is going on?
I don’t respond to these sorts of things, I can’t. That’s not my job.
Do they know what each call does to me? What I have to expect?
Closing his green eyes, Toxic struggled to control his breathing, carefully stuffing in a few earplugs as the ambient noise began to rise once again as the factory resumed activity.
Taking out a scroll, Toxic wrote a simple message, sending off the enchanted parchment with a sigh.
I hope you can help, Princess. These calls are starting to incur a hefty price on me.
Celestia trotted the halls, more than a few guards avoiding her direct path as the Solar Princess literally steamed. She had read over the parchment four times, each subsequent scan making her temper flare.
No anger. None of that. Ignorance and idiocy are much more common than malice.
Nacreous, I am going to need a very long hug after this.
And a kiss.
Lots of kisses.
Whenever one of her ponies was affected negatively, both she and Luna took the matter personally to some extent. It was the hallmark of their rule, being able to empathize with so many types of individuals.
But this pony was not the average citizen.
He doesn’t deserve this. Then again, I doubt this bumbling fool fully knows the importance of Toxic’s task, how essential he is.
I’m ashamed at myself for not catching this sooner.
Striding into the Canterlot Emergency Response Control room, Celestia looked around at the busy individuals and made a simple request. A dozen ponies were arrayed around new crystal monitors and sturdy wooden desks, massive screens spread across the wall in front of them.
“I am looking for Stalwart Pillar,” she stated, more than a few ponies staring in surprise. It wasn’t often the Princess visited here outside of a disaster, let alone looking for a single individual.
A cream-colored stallion with a bright red mane trotted up, bowing respectfully.
“Princess? What can I do for you?” he asked cheerily, and Celestia detected no hidden malice or any ill will from the stallion.
As I suspected. He honestly is wanting to help.
“I wanted to review a few past documents to keep myself apprised of the goings-on in the capital; do you have a minute?” Celestia asked tactfully, the stallion quickly ushering her into a small conference room.
“Of course! What documents would you like me to retrieve and go over?”
“The duty roster list, please.”
As the supervisor returned, the stallion took a deep breath, putting the documents on the table with a nervous smile.
“I apologize, Highness. I’m still trying to play catch-up after being transferred here.”
Celestia nodded, scanning over the roster as if checking it.
“Any issues thus far?”
“No- well, there is one,” Stalwart admitted with a sigh. “It’s one of the members of the Hazard Response Team. He’s begun the process of resigning, and I don’t fully understand why. There’s no documentation, and what he told me makes no sense.”
“Toxic Shield?”
“Yes. He’s listed as a regular, full-time guard on remote status, but apparently he takes issue with his normal duties.”
Celestia sighed, shaking her head as she turned to the required page.
‘Stalwart, Toxic Shield is anything but another guard. He’s not even to be treated as such. He’s a contractor, classified as -” her eyes widened on seeing the designation and notes under the afore mentioned stallion’s name.
“…what in the world?” she muttered, levitating her own, separate copy over to Stalwart.
“It does indeed show him as such; enrolled as a normal guard. And here I was thinking it was a different mistake,” Celestia sighed, looking over to a now very-quiet Stalwart, his eyes staring at the parchment in front of him.
In fact, the stallion looked rather ill.
“Stalwart?”
The supervisor swallowed, and Celestia saw his hooves shake slightly.
“T-this is a big mistake. I don’t know…how did…” the pony’s voice drifted off as the stallion sat down. “Is this document correct? The amount paid, his status, his top-secret security clearance?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.
“Yes. Toxic Shield is a contractor. Paid per job for the extreme assignments normal teams cannot complete, and otherwise occupies a full-time inspection duty station,” Celestia said.
“I thought the pay was in error- so when I cut his pay to normal like the other guards, called him on assignments others could do-what have I….”
“He was preparing himself for the worst for every call, and I imagine it has exacted a heavy toll,” Celestia added, shaking her head. She reached over and gently touched the pony’s shoulder with her wing, a kind smile on her face.
“Stalwart Pillar, you acted in the best interest of the Royal Guard and your teams. This was a clerical error, and you won’t be held accountable for such. However, I will need to do a review of the department as to why his complaints weren’t forwarded more promptly.”
The stallion nodded, clearly in a bit of a daze as Celestia took her leave.
Oh, Toxic. I’m so sorry.
I think it’s time you took a vacation. At least a few days to recover.
The stallion took a few deep breaths, finally away from the crowds of the city as he sat in a small park. The usual hum of the city was muted, allowing his exhausted mind to rest.
Too much noise.
It had been a challenge for years. While many would find a cacophony of sound to be a mild annoyance Toxic found it much harder to ignore such a thing. He could fake the lack of discomfort for a time, but eventually it grew to be all-encompassing, and a bit of quiet was a requirement rather than a recommendation to continue onwards.
Thankfully, such limitations vanished when lives were on the line.
He heard the soft *pop* of a teleportation spell, and the heavy hoof-falls indicated it could be only one of a few individuals.
“Princess?” he asked, a soft chuckle confirming his words. Celestia kept her voice soft, well aware of the stallion’s limitations.
“Indeed. Sorry to disturb you, Toxic, but I have news on these past weeks.”
He let out a huff, only now opening his eyes to see Celestia looking at him in clear worry.
“Are you alright?”
Toxic shook his head, forcing himself to sit up a bit straighter.
“Not entirely, but I’ll manage. I appreciate the gesture, contacting me personally.”
Celestia nodded, clearly still rather concerned about her distressed subject.
“I’d settle for nothing less. In short, it was a series of clerical errors. No malicious acts, nothing of that sort,” she explained. “In the chaos the Windigos caused, somehow you were set to be processed along with a new set of contractors and guards. Your status got switched, and your supervisor thought the wages was an error. I thought he’d be ill when he realized the mistake. Likewise, your complaints got bogged down with being shunted between various individuals who have either been promoted or no longer work for the guard.”
Toxic stayed silent for a few moments, shoulders slumping.
“A series of errors, that makes things a bit easier to process,” he murmured.
“Correct, one that has now been corrected to allow you continuation of inspecting the labs as soon as possible,” Celestia explained. “However, in no more than a week, I want you to take two days off at the very least, maybe a week. Recover, and then continue. I would give you longer, I intend to give you longer, but the various facilities need to be inspected immediately. Focus on the most at-risk locations first.”
Recognizing the urgency in her tone, Toxic nodded slowly.
“There’s another threat, isn’t there? Nopony is saying it, but I’ve heard the urgent reports floating about,” he asked.
“Yes. I cannot speak of it now, not here. Your security clearance allows full access however- and so I can send a briefing over, after your days off,” Celestia said. “After you finish your inspections in a month or so, I’m ordering you to take a week or two of partial leave. A few simple tasks, but overall, the goal will be to relax.”
Toxic nodded, the stallion’s green eyes flickering over to Celestia in curiosity.
“Why are you here, Princess Celestia?” he asked softly. There was no disrespect in his tone, only sincere questioning. “The approval for training with the Commander, the personal visits by yourself and Luna; I know you don’t do this for everypony.”
Toxic was not prepared by the shock to flash across Celestia’s case, nor the turmoil in her eyes as she struggled to maintain the mask she often wore. There seemed to be quite a bit she wanted to say, but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.
The seconds of silence stretched on for hours, and that was more telling to Toxic than any words that would follow.
“Because, Toxic, you are essential,” she finally said. “There aren’t others who can do what you can, nor handle what you’ve seen. Like the Lunar Knights, my Legionnaires, you are able to handle the ugly side of the world, that which many cannot comprehend or fathom. As such, we’ve tried to find creatures to help, to get a team together so it’s not just you. And so, we want to offer what reassurance we can. But…”
His shoulders slumped, head nodding slowly.
“I know,” Toxic whispered, “I suppose that makes sense. What is normal for me is extraordinary for every other creature.”
“A blessing perhaps?” Celestia offered.
“Or a curse.”
The clenched jaw of the stallion told Celestia enough to drop the subject, the raging boil of emotion in Toxic’s eyes lending credence to such silence. And yet she pressed on for a few moments.
“I know a thing or two about blessings disguised as curses,” she said, “as does Nacreous, Shifting, and Luna. I’m sure any of them would be happy to speak with you about such.”
Shoulders relaxing, Toxic nodded, the hint of a smile now on his face.
“I suppose you all do,” he mused, “thank you, Celestia. It’s nice to have somecreature to talk to who isn’t paid to do so.”
“Anytime, Toxic,” Celestia replied, “May I ask if your family is well?”
“As well as can be expected. A few improvements with my little brother, thanks to Emperor Thunderwing’s medical knowledge. So…we’ll see,” Toxic relayed.
“That is good to hear,” a soft chime made Celestia frown, the alicorn standing back up. “I’ve got to go, but I do enjoy these talks. On a more professional topic, you’ve been back-compensated for each call. It’s not the full amount; I think you’d agree that would be excessive, but I hope more than enough to compensate you for your time and the strain.”
Toxic nodded, not seeming to care about the promise of bits that much.
“You could buy an island I suppose, with all the extra funds alone. I can ask Nacreous if he has any recommendations,” Celestia said, hoping to raise the mood slightly.
Her words indeed seemed to cheer Toxic up, the stallion standing with a grunt. A wry smile flickered across his face, head bowing respectfully.
“I’ve found a better use for the bits. I apologize if I remain coy to such. If I said more, it might involve a lot of red tape.”
Celestia clearly played the unknowing part, perhaps a bit too well as Toxic’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Oh? Well, I hope to see the fruits of your labor eventually.”
Shaking his head, Toxic picked up his saddlebags, a familiar, determined fire igniting behind his eyes.
“I hope not. The world would be better for it.”
A knowing glint arose in Celestia’s eye before she vanished, leaving the stallion to trot to the nearest antique shop to browse odds and ends.
Reappearing in her private study, Celestia swallowed the lump in her throat. It had been talked of only a few times between Luna and herself, and not ever to Shifting or Nacreous. But now Toxic’s question had brought it back to the forefront.
Essential.
It was supposed to have been buried, never discussed. Shifting and Nacreous were testament enough as to the burden such a curse could carry.
But they also were an embodiment of the good that come from such a unique, long life.
Hidden in a secret compartment and behind a dozen trapped locks, a parchment stared at Celestia as she carefully levitated the bound pages out.
She had once wanted to burn it, erase every trace of this desperate idea from existence. Yet now she was going to be briefing two individuals on its existence. These two, if any, could understand….
‘Project Unholy Ascension.
- Candidates must be non-alicorn in origin for successful modification. Simulated tests indicate catastrophic failure when interacting with alicorn magic.
- Candidates must be considered ‘essential’, to which the loss of their life would leave Equestria, if not the world vulnerable to catastrophic threats.
- Candidates must accept willingly, no exceptions.
- Candidates must be aware of all the dangers and hazards posed by the project.
- Candidates must not have any replacements, immediate or potential pending.
Potential Candidate list- not yet informed.
- Arrow Flint - status stricken, now has a family. Cost too great.
- Vine Snap - status stricken, deceased.
- The Elements of Harmony in various forms – status stricken, one of alicorn status, and Harmony finds a way. Cannot, and should not interfere with such ancient and powerful magic.
- Toxic Shield – added after the Oakbark Incident. Status pending. Potential replacements, ongoing, 628, corrected to 0. No replacements found thus far with abilities even remotely close.
May Equestria and the stars above forgive us for considering this, especially if we must ask this of any creature, for none deserve to consider this burden.
May the sin of asking such a sacrifice be forgiven if any creature accepts such words with a pure heart.
-Solar Empress, Celestia.
-Lunar Guardian, Luna.
The words seemed harsh, and were written in a different time many years ago. Before both Celestia and Luna had seen beyond the curse of an ageless existence.
Before they realized truly how powerful love could be.
Celestia found herself smiling, looking at the classified project curiously.
“Could this bring more good to the world like you have, Nacreous?” she asked herself, “like Shifting to my sister? Perhaps I placed too much emphasis on the burden, the curse and not the blessing? Perhaps. And yet I hope never to ask this of you, Toxic Shield.”