The Bewildebeest laid his gavel down and folded his hooves in front of him. He and the other judges peered down at the makeshift courtroom below.
“We will begin the trial with opening statements,” the Bewildebeest said.
“Indeed.” Bedlam nodded her head, which was now attached to what looked like a large bear. “We can't begin with the closing statements, because then the trial would be over too quickly.”
“Rutebegas,” Dada chimed in. The contents of their bucket-head shifted slightly, despite the rest of their body remaining motionless.
The Bewildebeest turned his attention to the prosecution's table, where Chance was sitting in an upright, dignified position. His decent posture irritated Discord. Then again, so did everything else about Chance.
“Is the prosecution prepared to present its opening statement?” The Bewildebeest asked.
“They are, your honor.” Chance floated up out of his seat, his butterfly-wings remaining still as he did so. The blue draconequus made his way to the front of the court and took his position right beneath the judge's stands.
“Ladies and gentlecreatures of the court,” he said as he adjusted his glasses, “this is not a complicated case. Discord's crimes are not just obvious; they are numerous. The man can not even go a week without doing something orderly. One needs only look at his schedule to find evidence of his orderly behavior.”
From behind his back, Chance produced a thick, leather-bound day planner. Discord recognized it instantly; it was his. His name was written in golden ink on the cover. Discord had written some of the letters upside-down or backwards, just because he through it was funny at the time. Seeing it now didn't exactly have Discord in a laughing mood, though.
Chance held the day planner up above his head for all to see.
“Here is his schedule,” he said. “Take a look at it. Written inside of it are plans and appointments; a routine. What kind of chaotic spirit would willingly allow themselves to develop a routine? What sort of avatar of disorder would bind themselves in such a way? Hmm?”
Discord heard the judges above murmuring to themselves. He couldn't quite make out the words, but they sounded serious. Discord needed to derail things.
“Fluttershy,” he whispered to the pony next to him, “what's that word I'm supposed to yell when I want to object to something that the prosecution is saying?”
Fluttershy looked back at him, an eyebrow raised. She looked like she couldn't tell if Discord was serious or not. Discord got that look a lot from Fluttershy. And from most ponies in general.
“Um, 'objection?'” Fluttershy whispered back.
“OBJECTION!” Discord yelled. He stood and pointed an accusing finger at Chance. “He shouldn't be able to use props!”
Chance scoffed. “This isn't a prop; it's important evidence. And you're in no position to say someone can't use props, considering how much you rely on them for your jokes.”
That criticism stung a little, but Discord didn't mind. The judges had stopped their muttering, and that was what Discord had wanted. The way he saw things, the less the judges were able to discuss the case, the better Discord's chances of keeping his powers were. As long as he could keep them distracted, he didn't need to know how all of this court stuff worked.
Bedlam leaned forward from her judge's stand, her head extending outwards on a vine-like tentacle. “What sort of words are written inside of that thing?”
Chance smiled as if he'd been waiting for someone to ask that very question. He opened the day-planner to a random page somewhere in the middle and began to read.
“Let's see,” he said, bringing a finger up to the page, “we have 'Tea with Fluttershy'... 'Guys' Night'... 'Help Fluttershy With Animals'... 'Resolve Magic Threats Before Princess Purple Can Have a Stress Aneurysm'... and, finally, there's an entry for something he simply refers to as 'Parfait.' These are the things he gets up to every week, your honors.”
The three judges made sounds of disapproval. Discord flattened his ears back and glared at Chance.
“I don't see how any of this proves that I've been failing my job as a Lord of Chaos!” He snapped. “Just because I've developed a routine doesn't mean I've lost my edge. Am I not allowed to plan things ahead of time at all?”
The Bewildebeest once again banged his gavel.
“Discord, if you keep interrupting the opening statements, we'll be here all year.” The gnu stroked his furry chin thoughtfully. “Although I suppose you have a point; just following a schedule isn't particularly compelling evidence.”
With a satisfied smirk, Discord leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. He was getting the hang of this whole 'trial' thing. It turned out that the secret to winning was to disagree very loudly until you got your way, just like in real life.
Chance, who didn't seem at all perturbed by the schedule's dismissal, adjusted his glasses once again.
“Even if we dismiss the fact that he uses a schedule, we should still make of note of what he uses it for,” he said. “Tea parties? Animal handling? These alone aren't exactly acts of chaos, but I would like to draw attention to one of the scheduled events in particular. Discord has specifically set out time during the week to resolve magical threats.”
Discord dropped his smirk. All eyes (Or whatever Dada used instead of eyes) were now on him. The Lord of Chaos tugged on an imaginary collar and sat up straight.
“Well.” Discord cleared his throat. “You see, the thing is, ever since Twilight Sparkle ascended to the throne of Equestria, I've sort of taken it upon myself to-- and trust me, this is more chaotic than it sounds-- to deal with any sort of magical disaster before it can really, you know... start disastering. For fun. I do it for fun.”
Fluttershy nodded.
“It's true,” she said. “He tells me all about it during our tea parties. Ever since Twilight's coronation, Discord has been doing a lot of good for Equestria.”
The judges once more began murmuring to themselves. Chance shook his head in mock disappointment. Discord fidgeted awkwardly.
“Fluttershy, that's not helping,” he whispered tensely.
“Oh.” Fluttershy frowned and hung her head. “Right. I forgot what kind of court this is. Sorry.”
Chance tossed the day-planner aside and floated back to his table. As he did so, the book fell upwards until it disappeared into the void above. Discord hoped that it would be sent back to his home once this whole mess was done with. He didn't want to go looking for it.
“Your honors,” Chance said, “by the time this trial is over, your honors, the information Fluttershy just shared will pale in comparison to the evidence you will be presented with. You will be shocked and horrified by the sheer depths of Discord's orderliness. I intend to prove that Discord is no longer fit to serve as a Lord of Chaos, and should be punished in the harshest manner possible.”
Chance reached up and adjusted his butterfly-shaped bow tie.
“Thank you for listening to my opening statement,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed listening to it as much as I enjoyed writing it.”
All three of the judges applauded politely. With a grateful smile, Chance bowed in appreciation and then took his seat.
Discord quietly seethed while the judges' applause died down. It was bad enough having his chaotic qualifications brought into question; but having them be brought into question by someone as punchable as Chance? That really got Discord's blood pumping. Not that Discord really had blood; the stuff flowing through his veins was more like a kind of syrup.
“A very good opening statement, Chance,” the Bewildebeest said cheerfully. “It'll be hard to beat that. Next up, we'll hear from the defense. Discord?”
Discord blinked. “Oh! Do I get to speak, too?” He was pleasantly surprised.
The Bewildebeest nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “Please stand and give us a brief summary of the case in question and how you intend to prove your point of view.”
Discord turned to Fluttershy. The yellow pegasus gave him a reassuring nod and smile. After a moment, Discord nodded back and stood up from his seat.
“Alright,” Discord said. “Let me start off by saying that Chance is full of garbage and everything he says is a lie. He's an annoying, disgusting little amoeba; an insult to flies, maggots, and other vermin. He's the lowest of the low, and once this whole charade is done with I hope he crawls back into the slimy hole he was spawned from and never sees the light of day again.”
The Bewildebeest sighed.
“Be that as it may, Discord, it has nothing to do with the case,” he said. “Please stick to how you plan on presenting your case.”
Discord thought for a moment.
“Well,” he said, “I suppose I'll simply prove that these allegations against me have been wildly exaggerated. Even if I've gone a bit soft, I'm still the Lord of Chaos. And then, once I've been proven innocent, I'm going to shrink all of you down and crush you in the palm of my hand like the insects you are.”
The judges began to murmur approvingly. Discord had not expected that. He took it as a good sign, though.
“I'll show you all that I haven't lost my touch,” Discord continued. “I'm still the undisputed master of mischief. I may go about things a bit differently these days, but--”
A crumpled-up ball of paper hit Discord in the side of his face. It had come from the right; over in Chance's direction. Discord looked over to see the younger draconequs was sitting at his table, twiddling his thumbs and whistling innocently. This was despite the fact that there was a stack of paper and several more crumpled balls sitting in front of him.
The judges were all still looking at Discord, their expressions almost unreadable. Or, in Dada's case, completely unreadable due to the lack of a face. None of them seemed to be paying any attention to Chance.
“Discord, is something wrong?” The Bewildebeest asked. “Why have you stopped?”
Discord stammered a bit in disbelief.
“Did you not just see that I was interrupted?” Discord gestured over at Chance. “The prosecution just threw something at me!”
Bedlam laughed.
“Yes, very good!” She said. “Please continue.”
Discord looked back at Chance. The blue draconequus flashed a toothy grin and wiggled his fingers in a wave. Discord looked to Fluttershy, who could only offer a shrug of sympathy. At least someone was on his side here.
“Well,” Discord sighed, “as I was saying, I haven't lost my touch. I've moved onto performing smaller, more unpredictable acts of--”
Another paper ball hit Discord, this time right in the eye. It stung a bit. Discord's eye blinked open and close rapidly as he brought a hand up to it. His nostrils flared in anger as he turned to look at Chance, who was still smiling.
“Stop it,” Discord snarled. “Stop throwing paper balls at me.”
“Alright,” Chance said. “Sure thing.”
“Discord,” the Bewildebeest warned, “you really need to keep on-topic. Please do not stop giving your statement again. This is your last warning.”
Discord grumbled irritably as he rubbed his eye. He wasn't even going to point out that it was Chance's fault Discord was losing focus; it was becoming clear the judges didn't care.
“Fine,” Discord said. “In that case, all I have to say is--”
Chance threw one of the chairs at his table at Discord.
The wooden chair splintered as it hit Discord in the side of his face. He could feel the wood breaking apart even as the impact knocked him off of his feet and down to the ground. The other side of his head smashed against the hard, stone floor with a sharp thud. Pain radiated all throughout his skull from both sides of his head. It felt like his brain was bouncing around inside of his head.
“Discord!”
Fluttershy's voice reached Discord over the ringing in his ears. As he slowly got up off the floor, the entire courtroom appeared to be tilting back and forth. Discord felt as if he would get sea sick for a moment. With a groan, he shook away the pain and tried to regain his bearings.
“Discord, are you okay?” Fluttershy sounded panicked. That was good, right? Discord was too dazed to remember if that was good. He supposed it would be a good idea to say something to let her know he was okay.
“Thank you for listening to my opening statement,” he said groggily. “I hope you enjoyed writing it as much as I enjoyed listening to it.”
The judges resumed their murmuring as Discord staggered back to his desk. He kept trying to use his magic to get rid of the pain-- or, better, to retaliate against Chance in some way. Every time he did so, however, Discord felt that same sensation of his magic being cut off before it could actually manifest. Apparently, Discord would just have to put up with his throbbing head.
Discord hated having to put up with things. Not being able to just get rid of problems with magic was awful. Discord had no clue how ponies put up with this sort of thing.
“Are you okay?” Fluttershy whispered again, a look of concern on his face.
“I'm perfectly fine,” Discord said as he rubbed the spot where the chair had hit him. The pain made him envious of the days when he didn't have any bones. “Don't worry about me. Nothing these frauds can do can affect me. I'm just humoring them until I figure out how to get my magic working again.”
Discord almost believed himself when he said that. Even he could see the reality of things, though. He knew he was in trouble. But he didn't want Fluttershy to worry about him. It was best to try and play things off as less serious than they were.
Unfortunately, Fluttershy still looked as if she wasn't completely buying it. Clearly, that just meant Discord had to lie even harder.
“Alright,” the Bewildebeest said. “We have reached a decision.”
“A decision?” Fluttershy asked. “About what? Those were just the opening statements.”
Bedlam nodded. “Yes. We've decided that Chance's opening statement was far better than Discord's. Chance used props, and didn't get hit by a chair a single time. The first round goes to Chance.”
“Rounds?” Fluttershy repeated, an eyebrow raised. “Trials don't have rounds.”
Discord sighed and shook his head. “No, Fluttershy, they're right. Chance may have cheated, but I have to give the first round to him.”
“But trials don't have rounds,” Fluttershy insisted. A very slight hint of frustration was starting to creep into her voice.
The Bewildebeest banged his gavel against the sounding block. It made a wet, squishing noise.
“That's enough,” he warned. “We will now move onto the second round. The second round is the rest of the trial. Whoever wins the second round wins the case.”
From the look on Fluttershy's face, it looked like she was having trouble processing exactly what she'd just heard. Eventually, she sighed in defeat and wordlessly shook her head.
“We will now proceed with witness testimony,” the Bewildebeest said.
“Yes.” Bedlam nodded. “The testimony... of witnesses.”
“Pull the words out like teeth,” Dada said. “Soup cans into nothing. Make poetry from fortune cookies.”
The other two judges both nodded. Discord had no idea how they could understand what Dada was saying. Discord was all for random absurdity, but the bucket-headed Lord of Chaos seemed like they were just going overboard. Discord was actually a little annoyed by it, which surprised him.
“Chance,” the Bewildebeest said, “would you like to call the first witness?”
“Yes, your honor.” Chance stood up from his chair-- the one he hadn't thrown at Discord's head-- and folded his hands behind his back. “Your honors, the prosecution calls Discord Draconequus to the stand.”
“Why do you keep saying 'Draconequus' like it's my last name?” Discord asked irritably. “I don't have a last name. I'm Discord.”
Chance just shrugged. He didn't look like he cared.
“Noted,” the Bewildebeest said. “Discord, please take the stand.”
Discord looked around the rocky platform that his trial was being held on. It really was pretty barren. Discord didn't know a lot about courtrooms, but he knew that this one was lacking several things that most courtrooms had. There were no doors, or jury stands. There was no ceiling, and no little insects living beneath the floorboards. There were no floorboards, either. But most importantly...
“What stand?” Discord asked.
The stern, impassive expression on the Bewildebeest's face went away. Chance's smugness disappeared. Bedlam's eyes widened. Dada, who didn't have a face, didn't really visibly react. All four of the lesser Lords of Chaos looked around in all directions as they slowly realized what Discord meant.
“Did we forget to make a witness stand?” The Bewildebeest asked. “I don't see one.” He looked under his sounding block to see if the witness stand was there. It apparently wasn't.
“Whose job was it to make the witness stand?” Chance asked.
“Don't look at me,” Bedlam said defensively. “I'm the one who set up the gravity. I had my han-- my, er, appendages full.”
Discord and Fluttershy watched in confusion as all of the other Lord of Chaos began talking at once. There was a lot of arguing and blame-shifting, but Discord couldn't make out exactly what was being said. He wasn't really curious enough to try and figure it out, either.
The Lesser Lords kept on arguing, though. And as they continued talking over each other, Discord realized that none of them were paying attention to him anymore. Indeed, for the moment, they'd seemingly forgotten about him.
Discord had a chance to try and use his magic to save himself.
Slowly, Discord leaned towards Fluttershy and whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Act natural,” he hissed. “I'm about to do something.”
“Oh. Goodness.” Fluttershy shuddered anxiously. Then, she forced herself to smile very insincerely and adopted the most unnatural-looking posture she could in the current circumstances. Apparently, she was trying to lean on her hoof nonchalantly, but it looked incredibly forced. Thankfully, the lesser lords of chaos were still too busy arguing to notice this strange pose.
“Perfect,” Discord lied. “You're doing great.”
Now it was up to Discord to use his magic. But to do what? He couldn't just get rid of the lesser lords. That would require a lot of magical power, and they would almost certainly be able to sense it if Discord made the attempt. Likewise, simply teleporting himself and Fluttershy out of the court was tempting, but Chance and the judges would be able to just bring him back.
Whatever Discord attempted, it would need to be small. Unnoticeable.
Discord's eyes darted over to Chance's table. The blue draconequus had left his seat so he could argue with the judges at the front of the court. He had left behind the stack of papers he had been pelting Discord with.
An idea formed in Discord's chaotic brain. While the lesser lords of chaos argued, Discord slowly and carefully reached his arm out towards Chance's table. He reached and reached, his arm stretching out across the wide space between the two tables. Ordinarily, this sort of slow stretching would be accompanied by the sound of a slide-whistle, but Discord was trying to be sneaky.
Discord's arm finally stretched until his hand reached the stack of papers. He quickly grabbed one of the sheets and then pulled his arm back into its normal, reasonable length. That done, he then set his newly-acquired piece of paper down onto his and Fluttershy's table.
The lesser lords' yelling was beginning to decrease in volume. Discord could tell that their argument was winding down, and with it, the time he had to put his plan into action. Trying to move as little as possible, Discord leaned down and whispered a message to the piece of paper.
“Fluttershy and I are in court,” he said, speaking quickly. “Follow this letter's magic trail. I'm sure you know how. Please help!”
Discord paused. “Oh. Warm regards, Discord.”
As Discord spoke, the words he whispered appeared on the surface of the paper. The letters and punctuation shook and vibrated erratically, as if they were having trouble standing still. There was no time to fix that, though. Discord needed to focus on sending this message to the one pony he was confident could help him: Twilight.
As Discord folded up the note, he envisioned in his mind where the message needed to end up: Twilight Sparkle. This needed to go to Twilight Sparkle. The purple horse who was good at magic. The one who was fun to annoy. Twilight Sparkle.
Keeping that image of Twilight in his mind, Discord snapped his fingers. The letter disappeared into thin air.
“What did you just do?”
Discord looked up to see that Chance was glaring right at him. All of the arguing had stopped the moment Discord had sent his message. Now everyone was looking right at him.
“Well?” Chance asked. “We all felt it. What did you do?”
Discord hesitated. He tried to think of a good enough lie. Normally, that would have been easy for him, but he was under a lot of pressure. He settled on the next-best alternative.
“Um. What did you do?” Discord countered.
“He has a point, Chance,” The Bewildebeest said.
Chance looked up at the judges before sighing and shaking his head.
“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Can we just move on with the trial already? This set back has significantly, well... set us back.”
The Bewildebeest nodded solemnly.
“Very well,” he said. “We will take a brief five-minute break so that I can make a witness stand. I'm going to take the time to make sure it's really tasteful, so everyone get settled in. Read a book or something.”
The Bewildebeest, apparently looking forward to the opportunity to engage in some light carpentry, smiled cheerfully. He lifted his gavel and banged it against the sounding block. Almost immediately afterward, a construction hat appeared on top of his black hood as he began to work his magic.
The magic was, of course, literally magic. Discord had no idea why it would take five minutes for the stand to be built. But if it bought him some time to try and figure out more ways to save himself, he wasn't going to complain.
Out of the corner of his eye, Discord could see Chance glaring at him as he floated back to the prosecution's table. There was real malice in those eyes. It was starting to unnerve Discord just a little. It made him worry about what punishment Chance had in mind for if Discord lost the trial.
Hopefully, Twilight would know what to do.