Roseluck was pacing around the cavern. Nervous. Uneasy. Mindful still of her leg, of course, as the last thing she wanted was for the injury to return. But that could not have sat her down entirely. Even considering she was a bit tired after what must have been at least a busy afternoon.
Cyrus hadn’t returned yet and, from what she could tell, it must have been getting quite late. Not that she had any sort of a clock around, but the time it took her to clean of the carpets and take a proper bath... It must have pushed her into the evening.
Master commanded her to be thorough. With both. And she had been. That and more.
First of all... Cyrus had a lot of carpets. Almost the entire side of the cavern was meticulously covered in rich, woolen fabric, with additions of silk and cotton. With patterns forming into what Roseluck could only compare to a lush, flower garden. Those motifs exactly, as well as many geometric signs, waves crashing against shores, birds in flight and much more, all embellished and brought own, distinct beauty to the cavern. The problem with their resplendent presence lay with the dampness all over, not to mention the state of some rugs which clearly had not seen a proper scrubbing in weeks.
She would not expect Master to lower himself to do that... though she also bet that they reminded him of what his homeland must have looked like, all those thousands of years ago... Or, at least, what he was taught it might have looked like.
So that assignment took Roseluck a while. The better that she had then the time for something that resembled a proper bath. She carefully scrubbed herself that time, from hooves to mane, using the care products that Bulwark brought from Ponyville...
... though feeling somewhat dirty for doing so. Could she enjoy this little time for herself when her friends were endangered?
Master commanded her to do so.
And she couldn’t do much but bear those orders, lest she would invoke his displeasure. Considering he had granted her the boon of being mindful and not hurt anypony during his excursion... she had to show some deference on her end.
She was of two minds about it, definitely.
She just... she wanted everybody to be safe. She could make it so, if she only did well enough, she had reminded herself that in the bath. With her hooves washing her coat, falling into a tempo they recalled from the night before.
Everybody would be safe, thanks to her.
Reminiscing about that, Roseluck looked about, once again that day. Cyrus left the lair through the burrow that she used to enter it, though that was a generous term. Through the day of cleaning, whenever she thought it prudent whilst taking her breaks, she trotted about the place.
Not unlike right that moment, though with more nerves than intent.
She had been hoping to maybe find another way out. This cavern had ventilation through some smaller crevasses in the ceiling, the incense fumes were not staying among the stalactites and gems forever after all. But no hole that would resemble an exit. She could not slither up the burrow’s slope, not without Cyrus’ aid, so the only other idea that crossed her mind was some sort of a natural outflow for the pond in the cave’s middle.
... she wasn’t keen on searching for it either. As she had told Master, she would not drown, but diving in water was slightly beyond even her many, florist’s skills...
Roseluck stopped herself in mid-trot, just as her turn made her focus on one more place in the grotto. One part of the naga’s lair she had still not explored. The alcove. The one where Cyrus stored his belongings. She doubted there was an exit there of all places, but she saw him rummaging around those not once before...
The peytral she was wearing again, having put it on without much thought and to her distress, came from there. Would there be more trinkets? More ointments, like the healing one, or the one for keeping him warm? The thought of diving into that room and quickly shuffling through the supplies was enticing...
... and unthinkable! Those belonged to the Master!
“... urgh!”
Roseluck pressed her hooves to her temples in frustration. No wonder this hadn’t crossed her mind before, with her own inside voice berating her so quickly.
It was dreadful. Her speech in her head was dreadful. It wasn’t that annoying when she had been dealing with her tasks, perhaps strangely enjoying that she was being loyal and diligent... but the moment she thought of something like encroaching upon her Master’s possessions it lashed out, reminding her that it was there, constantly.
Ready to repeat more and more subservient ideas right to her mind... and even weaving them into her internal monologue almost seamlessly, as she had just realized.
This was getting progressively more dangerous, Roseluck was sure of it. More than aware that she would be easier and easier to subdue with Cyrus’ Gaze, as her second, much poorer attempt at resistance had proved to her... with that... that... wondrous bliss she couldn’t wait f—
No. Shush.
The point stood. The hold that the naga had in her mind could solidify further with more hypnosis. Could it, then, wane with enough time without it? Maybe, she couldn’t tell. Cyrus didn’t mention having to turn his Gaze on her to maintain whatever the shackles he had put on her mind... or on Bulwark’s. She was certain of one thing, though... There was a good chance that she would at some point finally lose discernment which of those Roseluck voices in her head was the right one.
She pondered for a breath. Being a Servant should have been... unless that was a lie, out of free will, yes? As much as an addict would have one, spurned constantly into searches for his craving.
Always hoping for that next moment, when the feeling of... of divine tranquility would come... when thoughts would dilute and breathing would slow and the mind would find the ultimate peace in azure... in purple... in periwinkle...
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Hard.
At least, right that moment, she was still capable of telling who was who. And fighting it. She had to make the most of it.
She glanced at the alcove again...
...no...
... but she did. Maybe there was something there that could help her out?
She took an uneasy step in that direction... more unsure than she would like it to be. She felt like a primary school filly, trying to look into the teacher’s register, right there on the desk, and hoping she could perhaps add a good grade to it or two...
Although, her teachers hadn’t exactly been snake abominations... though their wrath could have been comparable.
Another step. Her heart beating, her brow getting sweaty, matting the just-cleaned coat. Then... just a peek, if not access. To know what she could expect.
The cavern’s wall was moving. It was definitely that, for Roseluck felt like stuck in place. It was hard to take another step onward. Fear was welling up inside. Fear of being caught, punished...
... robbed of the chance to see the Gaze again... or maybe losing herself in its glory and delight as Cyrus could shackle her mind in entirety... but that... that would mean her friends endangered after all, if she were to become but a puppet on ethereal strings.
She dared. She took a deep breath. She looked beyond the stone, into that chamber. Chamber, as it turned out, of bags and chests and sacks and crates. Some open, some closed. Right there, for her to inspect.
“Sssash’ah’asss!”
The echo of the familiar curse in the hissing tongue of the naga bounced around from the direction of the burrow, slithering from Roseluck’s ears right into her veins and freezing every drop of blood.
Master was making his return.
And her heart was making its way right to her throat.
“Golden idols, strange rocks, books, secured jars, spare pelts, pouches of incense, at least one more peytral, collars, branding iron, a wide spear, three rugs, six or so maps, bolts of cloth, sledge, more books.”
... a b-branding iron?
Roseluck gulped, breaking the count and quickly making her way back to the pelts. She tried to regulate her breaths and rest on those in a pose that would be... relaxed? Welcoming?
... she had no idea how to make that work, but she was putting her best effort in, Master deserv—Cyrus was drawing near.
And he wasn’t pleased.
“He should be lashed for his incompetence! He let her strike at me! A young one, daring to strike a naga! Sssash’ah’asss! Outrage! Profanation!”
“M-master, I—”
“I will have silence!”
Roseluck felt herself shuddering all over. Cyrus wasn’t angry, no. He was furious.
She had to be on top of her game. Hide the hope that something went wrong. Fight the delight that Master succeeded after all.
She could hear the sound of scales pushing aside small rocks, the hisses escaping Cyrus’ mouth as he was growing closer and closer, soon to emerge from the other end of the grotto.
She reminded herself to be calm.
Everybody would be safe, thanks to her.
The naga’s appearance did startle her still, filling her with a mixture of fear and awe. His violet gaze emerged from the distant shades just like a predator’s would. Sinister and sharp. Scouting the lair immediately for threats, changes, expectations. Rapidly finding her own eyes, locking her in place as if he were already keen on bewitching her.
But it wasn’t the Gaze that grabbed her attention this time. And he was the one growing mirthful at the sight of her, actually. It was still but a drop of joy in a turbulent sea of wrath, however, and the expression on his scaled muzzle was enough to terrify.
Though, by the tone of his voice, he was holding himself back for her sake.
“My Servant. I see you have done admirably.”
Roseluck took a big breath, as if expecting to run out of air right there and then. The atmosphere in the cavern got significantly denser, after all.
“J-just trying my best, Master, the carpets are beautiful, they were just a bit unkempt so I tried to give them all a nice cleaning and, and—”
“Didn’t mean only the carpets, as you present yourself far better than before,” he responded with a dosage of praise that almost changed his anger into admiration. Yet it was still burning brightly, as brightly as his eyes in the dark, shifting behind for a moment. “He learns from her, or, by the Endless Coils, he pays the price of the failures and the worthless!”
“M—!”
“Silence, I said!”
Roseluck did not spot even a jerk of movement, but what she recognized as Bulwark’s voice was thwarted with what sounded like strained gasping.
She wondered if the order for silence was meant only for the stallion and if she could protest, but Cyrus began slithering in, with the presence of a vexed monarch. And, as she felt, everpony knew instinctively to stay quiet in such a company.
It wasn’t easy, though. Especially considering the “company” was larger than she had anticipated.
Actually... she had to cover her mouth with her hoof to stop a whinny of distress. In the muscular coils of the naga, she first spotted the pale amber mane of Lily, closely accompanied by that of Daisy’s lime green, the two of her best friends carried in, entombed almost in the hyacinth scales of Cyrus. Their eyes were closed, as she could tell from this distance, making her all the more distraught over whether they were alright...
Oh... what a mess that stupid bet had caused...
Not far behind them, also held secured, was a peach pegasus of cerise mane that Roseluck did not immediately recognize, but who must have been another member of the Royal Guard, considering the bits of armored outfit reflecting the minerals’ gentle illumination.
At the very end came Bulwark. Or, rather, he was being dragged in, his neck strangled by the very end of Cyrus’ long, robust tail. The stallion was visibly choking, trying to keep up and free himself at the same time, with no success on both of those fronts.
Roseluck straightened herself up. The naga, even encumbered as he was, still slithered forth imperiously. But even his mask of anger at whatever exactly he was upset about, could not stop her from interfering and speaking up at this sight.
“Master, you’re... you’re hurting him.”
She surprised herself at how coherent she had made that sentence, considering the sheer amount of angst welling up inside her.
Cyrus acknowledged her words by glancing back at the stallion, who was trying to match the pace and not risk suffocating. And, even to her surprise, the naga slowed down his advance, if just a little.
His voice again resounded around the cavern in a cadence which made him sound much calmer than he really was, for certain.
“I promised that I won’t hurt any of your kindred, my Servant, but I said nothing about disciplining a Slave that, most likely, brought danger upon me and my assets.”
“D-danger—?”
“But the rest are unharmed, other than what was necessary to subdue them, even if I suffered pain myself in the process.”
“Mas—?”
“It shall be explained, but stay your tongue, my Servant. I require tranquility.”
Roseluck bashfully lowered her eyes, embarrassed that she could have added to his anger... or maybe because she feared that she would only make it grow by continuing. One or the other.
Cyrus steadily made his way around the pond, his eyes reflecting the natural light of the cavern. Like two, violet will-o’-wisps, shining in the shade. Little, irate spirits ready to bewitch onlookers and lead them astray into danger. The comparison stood in Roseluck’s mind, though the naga appeared motivated by more than just petty malice at the moment. His muzzle was betraying just enough trepidation to give the right part of her hope that things hadn’t gone according to plan.
Yet she had more important things on her mind than his mood. Her florist colleagues and, more importantly, the two ponies in Ponyville she would confidently label her best friends, were in the clutches of the same, dangerous entity as she was... though, as she hoped, not entirely yet. Looking at them she could not feel the same “pull” as she did with Bulwark. But that could easily change...
She watched in silence as Cyrus deposited them, still unconscious, onto the carpets. He took great care in doing so, at least. They were soon joined by the Royal Guard mare that, as Roseluck realized, might have been Sortie, from the unit stationed on the other side of the town. The three mares lay, side by side, their bodies moving only through their calm, deep breaths.
They didn’t seem harmed in any way, at least not on the outside...
Bulwark soon joined the trio somewhat. Cyrus, with nothing more than a flicker of his tail’s tip around the stallion’s neck, forced him down onto his knees, into a deep, submissive bow. And though the naga didn’t turn around to receive it properly, Bulwark was smart enough to remain in it even after being released from the noose of a hold. Gasping for breath as quietly as possible, whilst Cyrus slithered in before the water, just by the pile of pelts.
His expression was pensive when Roseluck looked up. He stayed motionless for a few breaths, giving her a chance to read more from this look of agitation, concern... and a touch of qualm?
Suddenly, Cyrus’ muzzle disappeared from her view in the blink of an eye. For he, with the speed of a striking viper, plunged his entire head into the water, causing a splash that rippled the calm, steaming surface. Yet Roseluck was convinced that he wasn’t looking for the warmth. Especially when bubbles started appearing among the raisin curls of his long mane, spread around the liquid like a peculiar, fuzzy water lily. The muffled sound did betray that he was shrieking his lungs out right into the understanding embrace of the liquid.
When Cyrus finally reemerged from this paroxysm, lasting a good minute or so, his chest was heaving and his breathing was frantic. Roseluck dared not to speak up, seeing him in such an unpredictable state, but he must have felt her gaze upon him and sought her eyes himself.
The intensity of this stare could burn still, but at least Cyrus’ voice felt that much composed, fatigued as it was by the outburst.
“I’m fine, Roseluck, I’m fine...” he assured her before sitting down in his own coils and letting out a pregnant sight in the form of a long hiss. “My loss of composure was inevitable, as there were... complications. The malachite-maned young one? ‘Daisy’ was the name I heard shouted, is it correct?”
“Y-yes, Master.”
“She nearly got away... and her screaming must have been heard by at least one other search party, I have to anticipate,” the naga declared, before leaning over the water again. He checked something in his own reflection. “And the other young one jabbed right into my eye... yet it appears unimpaired,” he added, before rubbing it somewhat fiercely. “By the Endless Coils... what a disgrace... The capture of three young ones, only one of them a warrior, turning into such a hardship? Shame! Shame of shames!”
Roseluck bit the side of her tongue. For all the disdain she felt for the naga, she couldn’t deny seeing genuine distress in him. True, for an extraordinary cause... but even that part of her that wasn’t charmed by him felt a sting of pity for him. And even I she wasn’t convinced whether she should have... she could at least use this impulse.
She got up from the pelts and made her way to him. She could feel him observing her with great interest, especially since she was trying to make her approach as confident as possible, despite the heart pounding in her chest.
Her hoof rested against his foreleg in a gesture as tender and caring as she could muster. Without revulsion. She buried it deep inside.
“I’m so sorry to hear of what had transpired, Master. Not everything in life goes without problems. But I’m so happy to again be in your presence... and is that not more important than...?”
She left the question as it was. For him to interpret as he saw the fittest. And when she saw his gaze softening, she could not have been more proud of her own acting and the fact she brought her Master comfort in a moment of weakness.
She didn’t enjoy the latter realization that much, but she had to keep the act going.
Especially when Cyrus smiled faintly, in a way that made her heart, until then panicked, find its own balance again. His expression was so drastically different from that angered mask, she would have sworn she was looking at a completely different being, had it not been for that rich violet gaze, hiding behind it the last flickers of fury... and the strange, blissful magic that she trembled fearfully and hopefully before.
The naga’s foreleg extended and his scaled hoof rested on top of her mane.
“Having you as a Servant is a blessing from the Endless Coils, Roseluck. It is by their will that I have obtained you. You have your Master’s gratitude...”
She found it remarkably easy to beam at this praise.
Cyrus took a deep breath, a shade coming over his muzzle again, but she knew that she managed to pacify his fury.
“But, aside from you, there’s him...”
A panicked whimper resounded from Bulwark’s direction. The stallion was still bowing, fearful to even move a muscle when faced with his Master’s ire. It was still the smartest thing he could do, Roseluck thought, considering Cyrus’ disposition, as she was certain any sign of defiance would prompt the return of that anger.
The naga twisted his upper body to face Bulwark, without moving from his place.
“He was meant to stop her from alerting other young ones and restrain her. He allowed for his Master to be struck. He’s a disgrace, unfit to be even the most ignoble of Thralls,” Cyrus declared imperiously.
The stallion shrank in on himself, shivering from the tips of his ears to his tail. “M-Master, I-I beg your forgiveness, I held her in place, if I only had known y-you would lean in...”
“Was he the lowliest of the low among his warrior kin? Can he not anticipate a change of situation?” the naga continued, his voice dripping with venom, the tip of his tail twitching dangerously. “What if the young one was armed? Would he see his Master stabbed?”
“N-no! Master, no, never, no harm can come upon you!” Bulwark declared in pious desperation.
And, despite herself, Roseluck also felt her insides twist into a knot at the premise of hurt coming to Cyrus.
Who remained understandably unconvinced.
“And yet it happened when he was responsible. I should punish him with the severity of the noon’s Sun upon the Seas of Sands,” the naga proclaimed, raising his tail’s tip as if to strike like a lash. But he stayed his simmering anger, glancing at Roseluck, still remaining by his side. “Circumstances shall postpone this castigation. He should also show gratitude to his kindred and Servant of mine, as her fidelity appeases the wrath.”
She couldn’t help but smile just a little, despite everything. She would make everybody safe.
Bulwark gave her a glance, keeping his posture low still. “Th-thank you, miss Roseluck, thank you.”
That gesture did make her expression falter, though not as much as when Cyrus’ gaze fell upon the three other mares in the cavern, still not awakening despite the commotion around them. The naga crossed his forelegs against his chest, but not before he had given Roseluck another benign pat on her head.
“The Coil of Appraisals dictates taking one’s time before making some decisions, but that is not a luxury we can right now afford, with what happened up there in the forest...” he mused, rubbing his chin. “The Slave stands up. And he stops shaking. He has a chance to lessen his punishment.”
Bulwark wasted no time scrambling to his hooves, with the panicked clanging of his armor. “Y-yes, Master.”
“He doubtlessly knows the other warrior? He shall tell me about her.”
“Y-yes, Master. Sortie, she’s a member of the Royal Guard, she’s swift and diligent and, and she’s great at aerial scouting and—”
Cyrus’ one gesture was enough to render him silent. “Not so much when a naga strikes from an ambush, but what young one can truly be prepared for that,” he assessed. “She will make for a Slave. Two warriors shall be a solid start for my personal wardens, as long as she performs with more skill and alertness, would he not say?
“M-Master, Sortie is more than worthy to become—”
“Mine is the right to decide who of the young ones is worthy of what fate, he shall stay the pathetic hisses of his thick tongue.”
Bulwark piped down again, his gaze not daring to leave the stone floor.
Cyrus in the meantime continued his deep ruminations. “So, Slave it shall be. We will have to use that accordingly, lest they suspect...” He finished that sentence with a hiss that run shivers along Roseluck’s spine with its malevolence. “Now, what about the other two...?”
“Those...” she knew she summoned his gaze immediately by speaking up. But she had to do her best. “Those are my best friends, Master. Lily and Daisy.”
A part of her screamed at giving away even this sort of information, but Cyrus could not possibly spot that trepidation, simply cocking an eyebrow quite overtly.
“ ‘Lily’ and Daisy, then? Your best friends, you are saying?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Florists? Just like you are?”
“Yes, Master. We actually live next doors to each other and we run a shop together...”
Cyrus actually smiled. “A place of flowers, of course. That is beneficial. I think that my lair would really benefit from some natural adornments... but that is a matter for the future, not the present. However, should I then understand that these are the exact friends you had to bring starsalvia for? To prove yourself?”
“Yes, Master, as a bet,” she uttered.
“The Coil of Ironies slithers eagerly around us, would you not say, my Servant?” the naga judged with a hissing chuckle. “Considering the situation, I would declare you’ve definitely proven yourself. You have become a favored Servant to a naga, after all.” He crossed his forelegs on his chest again. “I presume they might be as appropriate as you are, Roseluck, if they have even a fraction of your worth. Yet... having in mind what is best for me and my budding court at the moment, I’m in need of Slaves. Ah, so shall it be.”
No!
“Master...!”
Her sudden squawk, for she couldn’t have labeled it any different, stopped Cyrus as he was priming himself to shift in the direction of his newest acquisitions.
“F-forgive me for speaking up.”
He squinted his eyes, giving her an almost suspicious look, which worried her tremendously. “You are forgiven... and permitted to continue whatever made you react so strongly, my Servant. You shall make it brief, however.”
Roseluck wasn’t sure if she wanted to first inhale or swallow the nerves, which almost resulted in a cough, but she gathered herself just enough. Causing a sudden tide of mistrust in him was the absolutely last thing anypony needed.
“I... I would never presume to contest you, Master, I just... those are my best friends. To see them elevated, but not as high as me, would... it would be deeply upsetting to me. I’m sorry if I cannot still fathom that yours is the only will that matters, but I...”
Master listened to her with utmost care, for that she was extremely grateful. Whether she would persuade him remained another matter, but she was going to try her best nonetheless.
“I do not wish to ask for another boon, your generosity was grand already, Master, and I cannot be thankful enough, but... I care for all the... young ones of my town and beyond, a-and the most for Lily and Daisy, in the spirit of Friendship, so I... I beg that you allow them to have the same status as you give me, oh Master...”
Her mind rejoiced and despised the tone she used and the bow she had decided to give him, to solidify her plea. She could not possibly ask him to free anypony. But at least, with their wills not shackled like Bulwark’s, the three of them could maybe think of some ideas to deal with this terrible situation.
Cyrus received her reverence with a regal expression and she could at least tell she had tickled his pride just enough for him to forgo wariness for the moment. His head sharply turned to Bulwark.
“Does he see this? This is how a young one addresses their rightful ruler.”
The stallion said nothing, only joined Roseluck in this subservient gesture immediately. But the naga paid no more attention to him. When she looked up after a moment, she saw him wearing a smile she could almost call cordial.
“Your plea is received, my Servant. Though inquiry about it seems reasonable as well. For you mentioned that philosophy I have already witnessed and encountered in these lands. You would invoke your beliefs of ‘Friendship’, which encourage you to intercede on their behalf?” He gestured widely at her unconscious friends.
That wasn’t wrong, Roseluck thought, so she nodded her head, still maintaining her deference. “Yes, Master. I wouldn’t be a good friend otherwise...”
Cyrus twisted his torso around, then began slithering to her side, clearly considering her words. His brow was furrowed, but at least she could not see anger doing that. More curiosity and... maybe a dosage of calculating?
“Friendship is a strange, baffling doctrine. Our glorious society knew alliances of convenience, knew having supporters and, of course, explored the sweet perceptions of infatuations, but to base an entire canon on such a naïve openness and trust in another’s kindness and generosity and loyalty?” he asked in a tone most patronizing. “And yet, the silent hiss of the Coil of Acquiescences does always advise to enable the Servants and Slaves... less Thralls, for obvious reasons, opportunities to continue adhering to the creeds they followed before becoming a part of a naga court. As long as those do not interfere with their responsibilities, or their subservience, as our wills and ways surpass any dogmas of the young ones...”
Roseluck listened very carefully, even daring to get back onto her haunches. Her feelings on his opinion about Friendship aside, maybe she would learn something useful once more from his open deliberations.
“I am unwilling to slither away from what I have in mind for this potentially threatening situation. If your friend’s screams had gathered the attention of other young ones before she was subdued... no, countermeasures must be put in place... but perhaps there is a right solution here, that would satisfy the Master and the Servant, following the will of that one of the Endless Coils. And the last thing I would want for you, my Servant, is to face distress and trepidation over what is bound to happen,” Cyrus declared when he reached her side.
When he turned in place and leaned in, looking in the same direction as her, right towards her friends, she trembled a little. She was sure it was the natural reaction when a predator mounted close. But when his whisper danced in her ear, the warm breath making it flick, she couldn’t stop that shivering elation which slunk in right to the side of her mind bearing his invisible mark.
“So... remember what I have told you, Roseluck... The last thing I want is to harm and to damage. I am The One Who Bestows Care, not but a lavish tyrant. I am simply following my creed, the creed of my blood and my scales and my hisses and my Gaze. So remember what I have told you. Help me.”
Roseluck felt a sudden blush across her cheeks, as she realized she had been breathing in through parted lips when the naga’s voice invaded her head. Something about his velvety tone resounded in her mind in the best and worst way...
... the subtle sound of a serpent, slithering, sneaking on satin, on silk, swerving into subconscious...
... and when she felt his scaled hoof against her back, a gesture reassuring and delicate, stroking her coat, the whisper became that much more profound. Making something in her mind click into place, in a wonderful, metronome-like tempo. Like from last night, she somehow still recalled, even if she felt her attention swerving rapidly towards Cyrus’ words. And nothing else but them.
“Help me, Roseluck. Stay calm and help them by helping me. Remember what I have told you. You can make sure everypony... everybody will be safe. Your pony friends. And me, your Master.”
Everybody... So that is where that phrase came into her mind.
She suddenly felt as if... as if she was standing on the bank of a grand lake... and not the pond right next to her. That this last realization of hers was the final piece of solid land. From which she was taking a step forward... As she found his words sinking in deep... and found herself sinking deep in them. In the rhythmic warmth of those strokes, a comfort that she did not want to fight.
... wasn’t she supposed to?
But the whispering continued, no less measured than the touch.
“I understand. You want to help. You don’t want your friends... to be less than you? I can do that. Make that happen. I can assure you. Right now. I think it would be... for the best anyway...”
Roseluck couldn’t remember closing her eyelids, but she somehow managed to lift them again still.
“You... you would, Master?” she asked, as hopeful for his affirmation as she was for another, delicate stroke.
And both came, much to her pacifying delight. “Yes, my Roseluck. I have a plan. One to stop... the young ones... from doing something... very silly. Like going right... after me. You would not want... any young one... to be harmed... for I had to... defend myself... and you? And others?”
“N... no,” she agreed, leaning into his touch and his voice alike.
“Then you know... what to do...”
“Help...” Roseluck answered with the certainty of the next caress.
“That’s right... Help me. Right now... Don’t interfere. But observe. Calm. Still. Silent. Trust me...”
Trust me...
She wasn’t sure if that last sentence was him, or but her own mind reminding her of that truth so vividly... enough said that when she opened her eyes, no longer feeling Cyrus’ delicate touch, she looked straight at him with gratitude. And though she saw him as if through a light fog, she knew it was him. Her Master. One who would let her help and who would let everybody be safe, thanks to her.
“Thank you, Master...” she told him with a little, demure, sleepy smile.
The naga straightened up magnanimously, with a smirk of his own. “I listen to my courtiers and I keep my word. And there is no more time to waste,” he declared, his voice more distant that she would think.
Roseluck nodded in agreement, though her head felt heavy. She looked over her friends, but she feared for them no longer. He allowed her to help, so they would be safe. She just had to but observe and that would help. Calm.
She could hear Cyrus ordering Bulwark around. “He will hold them down, one by one. No more nasty surprises, does he understand? Especially from the other warrior, we shall start with her first.”
“Yes, Master!” came a remote, echoing reply.
Roseluck remained seated where she was, as the naga loomed over Sortie first. His serpent face was out of sight, and the hiss of his command was muffled, but when the pegasus’ eyes fluttered open, an illumination of azure, purple and periwinkle could be seen, lighting up her face, like a corrupted, impure rainbow.
“Wh-what?! Where am I?!” She tried to look about in panic, tried to flap her wings, kick or punch, but Bulwark kept her down steadily and her eyes were immediately stuck in place, compelled by Cyrus’ Gaze. “B-Bull! What are you...?! Let me g... go... What is... who... I... I...”
Her attempts at defending herself quickly subsided, when azure and purple were added to her natural, periwinkle stare, in a pattern oh so perfect and steady... as much as Roseluck could fathom through this thick mist in her head. She was swimming in it, without worries, away from the solid matter of thoughts and anxieties. Calm and but observing.
Sortie’s struggles were gone entirely... that is until a tremor rocked her entire form, one that, even in her state, Roseluck recognized as her Master’s mark being placed on the pegasus’ mind. Which was good. She could not hurt herself now by trying to fight back, or get away. She was safe. So was Bulwark. And her. And Master. Everybody would be safe.
... something was wrong...
She blinked. She bumped into something grounded in her own head. But her carefree experience remained, blurring her vision and softening her heartbeat. She could not tell what was supposed to be wrong exactly... so she paid it no mind. Not that she could, anyway.
Sortie blinked a couple of times as she soon awakened from her forced stupor, looking about the cavern. Her first gesture was an obedient bow of her head to the naga, soon followed by a glance towards Roseluck herself.
“So that is what happened to miss Roseluck. You could have told me, Bull!” she exclaimed with amused indignation. “Maybe I could have avoided a bump on the head!”
“I would if I could at the time,” Bulwark replied sheepishly, scratching his neck in embarrassment.
“That will be enough,” came Cyrus’ strong tone. “They shall have a chance to fraternize after they go through with the plan I shall present.”
Both of them saluted in unison. “Yes, Master!”
“Wondrous. The green-maned one, now. Secure her.”
... this was wrong...
Roseluck blinked again, trying to shake her head. A nagging thought kept interrupting her peaceful swim in the depths of her own mind. Why was that? Everything was fine. Her best friend, Daisy, would soon join Cyrus’ court safely, without harm. And everybody... everybody...
Wait... wasn’t she supposed to be...?
The naga wasted little time and immediately after the two Royal Guards had held the mare in place, awakened her with a gentle hiss, bombarding her opening eyes with his Gaze. Daisy, just like Sortie before, embraced the initial panic with a shout.
“Wh.. No! G-get...! Get away! H... Help me, some... somepony... I...” She desperately tried to glance away, to avoid that tri-colored enchantment, but with two, fit ponies holding her in place and even forcing her head to remain facing the naga, she had no chance. “P... please... no... n...”
With her silence came her safety, Roseluck thought.
... no, that was wrong.
She scrunched her face, blinking again and stronger. The fog before her vision persisted. Though it was more like she was staring at the world through a curtain of water, she now realized... Her hearing was as if she was submerged in liquid too.
Wasn’t she... helping? Supposed to help?
She watched as Daisy’s hypnotized expression went completely slack and soon enough her body twitched violently. Her mouth opened in an expression of the highest, if silent, ecstasy. The peak of trance and bliss.
This was helping, yes...? Was it?
Her friend lay there for a moment, exhausted, taken over the brink of joy, but soon returning to the world, her tired gaze scouting her surroundings curiously.
And when their stares crossed, Daisy’s lips bloomed in a relieved smile.
“Oh, Rose, you’re alright! We were so worried, I’m... I’m so sorry, this bet was so stupid!”
She wanted to reply... but she couldn’t. She wanted to! Why couldn’t she say a word?!
She just... sat there with a peaceful smile!
Which made Daisy that much more mistakenly happy! “But you’re safe! And you’re also serving the Master? That’s so wonderful!”
No! No, it wasn’t!
Roseluck couldn’t believe it. Cyrus got to her, somehow, through that whisper and touch. She didn’t know how exactly! She dreaded that Gaze of his, was ready to avoid it, but she must have omitted something else!
She had to free herself, wake up! Focus!
The naga hissed in a satisfied chuckle in the meantime. “It pleases me that my Servant will have the company of her best friends. Her name is ‘Daisy’, yes? She shall help ‘Lily’ join my entourage, then.”
“Of course, Master!”
No! No, no, no, no, no!
Roseluck tried shaking her head, hoping to regain hold of herself, though an occasional, little twitch was all she could muster. She simply had to reach and breach the surface of the charm her mind slipped under. It was like trying to escape a current in the sea, a force to be reckoned with, but she couldn’t just succumb!
... ah, but she could... stay calm and still... let go, forget, and leave thinking and acting to the Master...
... but she didn’t want to! No more!
Lily was woken up like the others were, held in place, with Daisy herself keeping her head secured and in Cyrus’ vision. And the reaction was dreadfully comparable.
“Wha... where...? No! Stop! Don’t look at me, you...! You monster!”
Was it the sight of Lily fighting so fiercely, actually closing her eyes and trying to get away? Or Daisy, keenly making sure that her best friend could not escape the naga’s magical trap? But Roseluck felt herself crying, deep inside.
It caused her to double her efforts, fighting against the comfort of thoughtlessness and petrified relaxation. It hurt, it was unpleasant, so far away from the bliss still lingering someplace in her head, but it was what she had to do!
And Lily? She could not have defended herself forever, unfortunately. Not when she heard Daisy’s voice.
“Come on, it’s fine, Lily. Look. Trust me.”
That dreadful, poisonous phrase!
As soon as one of her eyes opened, prompted by those deceitful words, Cyrus must have poured in all his power. A fanfare of colors erupted out of the panicked pupil, causing her resistance to fade and jaw to go slack. Soon fighting turned into surrender and then eagerness, as the magic of the Gaze took hold of its next victim.
Roseluck gritted her teeth. She was so close. Her blurred vision was clearing itself up more and more and her hooves no longer felt like anchors, dragging her down, keeping her steady and pliant, a bystander, an accessory to what was happening!
Cyrus... That cursed, disgusting abomination, that... that repugnant snake! He was looming over Lily, as she was slowly coming to, recovering from the euphoric high, no doubt so proud of his accomplishment.
What a glorious monarch he was! A lying, conniving monster, nothing more!
When he turned his torso and finally faced her, she met him with as much of a glower as she could, so ready to break free, to scream and shout and stomp! She was going to stop him with... with... somehow!
He look became marred by what he saw. Or maybe he was unfazed after all, she could recognize that shivering of his scaled silhouette. Maybe that was the only thing causing him to appear moved!
His voice was pernicious and warm alike. “My Servant, your bothered look perturbs me more than the cold fatigue settling in my flesh. I told you, you would help. And you shall, for the best of us all.”
Something about his tone made her shudder further. Attempt to get away as he slithered forth, though her muscles refused to obey her. She recognized that timbre of his voice. It had three notes, like three, luring hues.
“Hnnn...!” she managed to utter a groan of protest, lift her foreleg a little bit, move back an inch. She was so very close to resurfacing from the spell!
Cyrus’ tone grew more compassionate. “I told you, my Roseluck. Everybody will be safe. You included... and for that I had to make sure that you would not stop me. Believe me, I understand your plights, I read how distraught some young ones can get. When their relatives, loved ones, acquaintances are being brought under a naga’s will. But that is but temporary. You are a remarkable retainer, for your own good and to spare you the disquiet I decided to act...”
He lowered his head to her level, almost touching his scaled muzzle to hers. There was a pause as he closed his eyes. The deep hiss from his throat meant fighting off the benumbing affliction.
The subconscious flicker of his tongue, which tickled her lips playfully, sickened her.
“Sssash’ah’asss ... You... smell and taste of that stress. Oh, Roseluck, don’t be like so. I’m doing my best to take care of you...” he whispered with nothing but good will.
That didn’t calm her. Nor did his fatherly touch across her temple. Didn’t stun her, nor charm her. Not that time. It only steeled her for whatever was to come.
“Your friends won’t be less than you, as I said,” Cyrus was still trying to reassure her. “Simply... to make sure my court is protected as much as possible... I shall be forced to rescind your status as my Servant. Just for the necessary time, as you deserve it by every hiss of the Endless Coils.”
She didn’t care, deepening her glower as much as she could.
“I would not lie to you, Roseluck, believe me. When I have the chance to deliberate safely, I will consider your friends joining you at your position immediately after I can safely return you to it. I swear it. By the blood of my ancestors. And by the temples of Mashkhan-Shaphashir. And by the towers of Phasharnhaghazsh, which I shall see rebuilt, may the Endless Coils find me worthy. But for now, you must understand, this is for the best...”
A comforting smile never left his lips... until, just as he had finished his justifications and his vows and his pledges, he spotted all that Roseluck had previously buried deep inside to try and sway him with obedience, but now communicated by stare alone. The defiance. The resentment.
The disdain.
And for that one, brief moment, as she finally felt like she was to regain control... she saw hurt in that dark, vile pupil... before right from it came the tri-colored magic, ready to dominate her, persuade her, seduce her.
Scowling one last time, Roseluck plummeted back into the abyss of rapture.