//------------------------------// // City of Spires // Story: The Blind Sun // by Dragonfire2lm //------------------------------// Canterlot was a city of ivory towers that reached to the heavens, gold plated spires gleaming in the midday sun. From her place bundled up in Grimm’s arms, Hearth looked up at the maze of walkways that connected one tower to another. Grimm walked at a steady pace along the cobblestone sidewalk, taking in the sights along with her as wagons laden with goods trundled down the smooth marble roads and unicorns adorned in elegant suits, dresses, and robes went about their business. A few eyed the two insects warily, many more went out of their way to ensure they would not cross paths with the king. Both king and subject could sense the undercurrent of distrust in the air. It made Hearth feel exposed and she resisted the urge to transform into something small and hide in a crevice somewhere.  “Same as ever I see…” Grimm commented quietly. A soft breeze and the movement of cloth caught her eye and she looked at the elaborate banners that hung off window ledges and above doorways, advertising the various shops and services the city had to offer, all packed into the spires around them. “Canterlot was founded by The Mages Association a hundred years before the fall of Everfree City. When Princess Celestia needed to relocate her people and government after the fallout, The Association offered up their mountain peak city of towers,” Grimm explained as they walked. “The wall that stretches around Canterlot is the foundation of a magical barrier that allows the city to function as an enclosed ecosystem despite the high elevation.” As they rounded a corner, the road led to a large domed building. The stained-glass roof drew their gaze, a rainbow of colours amidst the stark white architecture of the rest of the city. Sky blue banners depicting the image of a golden, stylised sun were attached to poles that lined the road to the building. The main entrance was a golden arch, the area beyond it obscured by glittering pink magic. A pair of unicorn guards, in gem encrusted golden armour, stood silently on either side of the entrance. As Grimm carried Hearth, the guards stepped forward, horns glowing. “State your business.” One of them spoke. Grimm produced a letter from the inside of his cloak and handed it to one of the ponies, the guard taking it in his magic. Tension filled the air as the stallion read its contents. The guard nodded and returned the letter to The Troupe Master. “Papers are in order, please head to reception and mind yourselves while you are within Equestria’s borders.” “Thank you Gentlecolts.” Grimm replied amicably and stored the letter away in his cloak. Hearth could only stare at the oddity of it all. The city was certainly impressive to look at, but unlike The Scarlet Hive, it lacked personality, the heart and soul of its inhabitants. The ponies they had passed on their way here were indifferent at best and distrustful at worst. An emotional coldness permeated Canterlot that made the changeling feel unwelcome. That feeling persisted as Grimm stepped through the magical gate, its magic washing over Hearth in a way that felt invasive to the smaller being. The interior of the building was just as opulent as the city outside it. Sunlight streamed in from the glass roof above, a kaleidoscope of colours dancing across the blue carpet. The lobby of the building led to several different rooms hidden behind large wooden doors carved with ornate runes and magical symbols. Tucked into the corner of the large space, was a dark wooden, clawfoot desk behind which sat a mare in a light blue uniform, the collar of which had the same stylised sun as the banners outside. The pony had not noticed their arrival, too absorbed in reading a news article. “This is The Royal Sanctuary,” Grimm said as Hearth looked around. “A magic academy that is home to one of the world’s largest collections of artefacts, tomes, and records. As well as home to Princess Celestia herself.” Given that Grimm himself spent most of his days living in a reality defying tent, the fact that the ruler of ponies lived in a school didn’t phase her all that much. She wondered if it was a quirk unique to Higher Beings, Princess Celestia was the Steward of the Sun after all. Her musings were cut short as Grimm approached the reception desk in the corner of the room. The mare looked up at him, wide-eyed. Grimm, as always, was cordial. “Greetings, I am Troupe Master Grimm, I believe Princess Celestia is expecting me?” The mare collected herself, clearing her throat. “Ah, yes sir, a room has already been prepared for you. Do you need an escort?” “Yes, we would appreciate that, thank you.” “A guard will see to you shortly.” A pair of light blue benches were up against the nearby wall and Grimm placed Hearth on one and took a seat on the other. Their present situation stuck to Hearth as odd. “Master, would it not have been better to arrive in the carriage? Or in a way more fitting your station?” Grimm smirked at her. “And deprive us the chance to see how this city truly runs? I think not my friend,” he said, expression shifting into something bordering on weary. “As much as I adore the finery and splendour of the upper class, I also tire of it. There is much one does not see when looking down from on high, here among the masses is where I prefer to be.” The sound of approaching hoofsteps caused Hearth to glance up as a unicorn guard, in dark blue dress uniform, approached them. Pinned to the lapel of his uniform was a shield shaped badge with a six-pointed star on it. He looked younger than his peers as he offered Grimm a salute. “My name is Shining Armor, I’m your assigned guard for the duration of your stay here.” The stallion said and while Grimm raised a brow, he didn’t comment. “I’ll escort you to your room.” Hearth carefully slid off the bench to walk beside the taller being, Grimm looked down at her. “Are you certain you can walk on your own?” he asked, concerned. “…I think you’ve coddled me enough, Master,” She admitted as they follow Shining Armor down a hallway. As much as tolerated his fussing, there was pride in being able to move under own power despite the aching protest of her battered form. “Besides, I can rest when we reach our room.” “Um…” Shining asked from ahead of them, looking back at her. “Sorry, but I just wanted to ask, what happened to you? You look like you got mauled by a chimera.” It was Grimm who answered. “The victim of a terrible abuse of power I’m afraid. I was lucky to reach her in time.” “Oh, that’s horrible,” Shining replied sympathetically. “Do you want to stop by the Hospital Wing? I can ask the doctors to take a look at those wings.” Grimm smiled at the sincere offer. “Thank you, but there is no need, we bugs have our own ways of treating wounds.” “If you’re sure, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’ “We will,” Hearth chimed in. Shining’s concern was a welcome feeling that soothed the lingering unease still crawling in her shell. Hearth stared at the massive, four-poster bed that was the centre of the room while Grimm inspected the contents of the desk that was beneath the large window that overlooked the Sanctuary gardens. The room was spacious, with various plush white couches and seats up against the walls and a large wardrobe tucked into a corner. Even the floor, soft, velvety blue carpet, practically screamed opulence and luxury. This is a bit much... she thought. It was grand to be sure, but there was a coldness to it, a sterility that sucked the beauty out of the otherwise enchanting décor. It reminded her too much of the Badlands Hive. Grimm had finished poking around the desk and had strolled over to inspect the attached bathroom. “A private bathing area, how generous.” Hearth looked over at him, the dried blood on her ruined wings suddenly wildly uncomfortable. “Do you mind if I freshen up?” The Troupe Master stepped aside and gestured for her to go ahead. “See to your injuries, friend. I believe I will go in search of a meal for the two of us.” She nodded her thanks as Grimm departed the suite. She entered the bathroom warily and was greeted with a wide porcelain tub, gold trimmed basin, and polished wooden flooring. She eyed the nearby shelf filled with soaps and bottles of liquid cleansers with suspicion and chose a simple washcloth hanging off the rack beneath it as she used her magic to run herself a bath as warm as the hot springs in The Scarlet Hive. She exited the bathroom to find the Troupe Master lounging on one of the longer couches, cloak polling around his form as he basked in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Hearth spied a bowl of fruit and a platter of smoked fish covered by glass lids on the desk. Grimm looked at her lazily. “Her highness has requested I join her for dinner this evening, until then I am free to do as I please,” he gestured at the food. “I’ve received word from the healers regarding your condition, and they recommended simpler fare to start with. You’ll need a stockpile of nutrients for the metamorphosis after all.” She nodded and picked up a piece of fish in her magic, floated it over to herself, and gave it an experimental nibble. Salmon. She hummed in appreciation and began to eat in earnest, walking over to an armchair to sit while she ate. There was plenty of time before their appointed dinner with the princess, and Hearth knew she didn’t have to attend given her main priority was to recuperate. Swallowing her mouthful of fish, she looked over at him. “What do you plan to do now?” “Hm…” Grimm mused. “I shall relax as well for I need not return to the Nightmare Realm until much later. My Troupe is between performances, so I am not needed there either. And in truth, I’d rather not leave you here alone while you recover.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position as Hearth tore at her fish, jaws snapping shut over her prize. “You will be attuning yourself to me, thus your transformation will be smoother if I am close by.” She nodded and vocalised her agreement with a grunt. She finished her piece of fish and floated over a golden apple from the fruit bowl over to her as Grimm relaxed, lying back down on the plush couch to resume his sunbathing. “I wonder what sort of Mothling you will be?” he mused. A calm, lazy silence settled over the room. Hearth ate her fill while Grimm dozed. As time passed, Hearth began to think on her nearing metamorphosis. She’d need somewhere to make a cocoon for starter, and somewhere safe. Though with Grimm in the room, she knew she was in good hands. She glanced over at the bed, it looked comfortable, as did everything else in the room, but it wasn’t quite right. She eyed the wardrobe, a tall wooden thing shoved into the right corner by the bed. She finished her meal, licked fruit juices and bits of fish off her fangs and got up. Moving over to inspect the wardrobe, she opened it to find it was empty, ready for the room’s occupants to store their own clothes, it was also large enough for her to step inside. So, she did. Closing the door shrouded her in darkness. She stood with ample room to move, more than enough room for a cocoon. She stepped back out again to find her roommate watching her curiously. “Find a good place to begin?” he asked. “Do you think the ponies will mind?” “There is nowhere else for you to go, the nearest colony is well beyond this kingdom’s borders,” Grimm replied. “If anyone has an objection, I will handle it.” “Yeah, see you when I wake up?” she said. “Of course, rest well, Hearth,” Grimm replied, dipping his head in respect. “May you find illumination.” Encased in hardened, ruby red magic, Hearth dreamed. It came as surprise to the ‘ling, expecting to wind up in some hidden corner of the Scarlet Hive. But no, her hooves felt the dead, packed dirt beneath her, a stale breeze sending small dust clouds rolling off into the distance. The sky was dark, no moon, no sun, no stars. The horizon of nothingness went on forever, an empty lifeless land. “Sad, is it not?” Hearth turned around to see another changeling standing behind her. Red plates of carapace protected their shining white hide. Black fluff encircled the base of their neck like a mane, and feathery antennae curled gracefully atop their head. Red moth-like wings with white eye-like markings lay limp at their sides. The ‘ling’s pink eyes were focused on some unseen thing in the distance, an expression of unwavering calm across their face. They spoke again. “Look closer, Noble Kindler.” Hearth blinked. An army of beings marched in a procession in the distance, hailing from every kingdom and every type of creature that roamed the world, red robed Grimmkin floated in the air alongside griffons, dragons, pegasi, and small bug-like wraiths of living shadow. Each one had red nightmare mandala rising off their form. Ponies walked side-by-side with changelings and diamond dogs alike. And at the helm, shining as bright as bonfire, was The Nightmare King. “God of Nightmares and Rebirth, Changeling King, Father of the Discarded,” the other ‘ling said calmly. “He will remain long after this world is naught but ashes and dust. And remake the world anew, for his light casts the greatest shadow of them all.” Hearth watched the parade of ghosts in silence. Something rose from the darkness, a towering horned beast, an entity of shadows and mystery, yet no more malevolent than Grimm himself. This great creature walked alongside her king, flowing beside him as if the two were old friends. “What does all this mean?” she asked as the armoured changeling walked over to stand beside her. “What do you think it means?” They asked in turn. She wasn’t sure, an answer came to mind, but it was difficult to swallow. “…What about the other Higher Beings? Where are they?” “…The Moon scorns him, The Sun ignores him, his Twin hates him, and the Pale Light fears him… Only the Silent Void remains in his presence.” Hearth thought back to Grimm’s comments on the upper class, his desire to see to her wellbeing, the simple joy he seemed to find in any situation. Out there, with naught but the dead and dark for company, Grimm looked incredibly lonely. She understood now why he valued free will and self-expression in his subjects, they were all he had in the face of the thankless duty he performed. “Trials lay ahead, Noble Kindler,” the other changeling said. “Shifts in power, a dance of disharmony between the Higher Beings, and His Majesty is the one that stands before it all.” “And he’ll do it for us…” Hearth said softly, heart melting in a desire to comfort, to soothe. “He’ll do all he can to stop the world from tearing itself apart and pick up the pieces after everything is said and done.” “And what will you do, now that you know all this?” Her brow furrowed as she frowned. She was just one ‘ling, one ‘ling could not love a hive, one ‘ling could not stop a tyrant, but… If she didn’t do something, who would? “He needs someone,” she decided. “Someone to support him, to remind him of the little things…” “And that someone would be you, Noble Kindler?” the white ‘ling raised a brow at her. “You would devote eternity to staying by his side?” Hearth laughed. “When you put it like that, it sounds like I’m going to take him as a mate,” the two of them chuckled at the joke. “He’s lonely, I think. And does it really matter what I am if it means he has someone there for him?” “And,” she continued. “If the Higher Beings are in disharmony, then it affects everyone. Someone needs to remind them that their power affects more than each other…” “A bringer of Harmony? A voice of the people?” the other changeling mused. “Surely you would settle for being His Majesty’s assistant or maiden?” Hearth looked them in the eye, drawing herself up to her full height. “No.” If she were to truly express herself, to free herself from the shackles of fear, of doubt, of the seeds of servitude Chrysalis’ tyranny had sown, she needed to decide her fate for herself, to live and breathe with confidence. And what better way than by embracing the one saving grace she had as Kindler of the Badlands Hive, her empathy, her drive to teach and nurture. No more suffering. No more blind obedience, No more cowardice.