//------------------------------// // Engineered Public Rejection // Story: Anchor Foal: A Romantic Cringe Comedy // by Estee //------------------------------// Even with the best of florists, there was a limit to what a bouquet could accomplish. Colors had to be balanced, while making sure the scents didn't clash was a delicate process. The stem bundle had to fit comfortably in somepony's mouth, and when it came to the blooms... well, if you hadn't managed to assemble something edible, you'd lost at least half of the point. Additionally, if the entity bearing the corsage happened to be a hill-sized monster, there was presumably going to be a certain difficulty in shopping. So the monster, unable to seek the advice of a professional, had... improvised. It took a certain degree of squinting to see that: not of Fleur's eyes, but a desperate attempt to force her mind into some degree of focus, trying to find anything which would lead her out of the overshadow. A mere glimpse at what the monster was holding would produce the impression of a bouquet, and that was surreal enough. But once she made herself truly look... Ponyville was balanced on the seasonal tipping point, just waiting for the pegasi to give the settled zone one last push. It was currently autumn by dubious virtue of temporal technicality. Fleur's breath was visible, her fur wasn't insulative enough, and most of the local plants were either sleeping or dead. You couldn't get flowers in this kind of environment. Put the strongest earth pony in the world in the heart of Ponyville, bring their Cornucopia Effect into play, and the results of their efforts would still require the protection of a greenhouse. Additionally, the monster was the size of a hill and all things considered, even a bouquet composed of nothing except rafflesia arnoldii... well, thematically, having the thing carry a bundle of corpse flowers would fit right in, but you would still lose the sight of the bouquet against its mass and for the first time in history, it might have been possible to say the same about the smell. The monster had improvised. And it had done so by ripping multiple trees out of the ground and pressing the trunks into each other. There seemed to have been some basic bundle-wrapping attempts made with the branches: slightly more success had been managed with the roots. Adding the odd evergreen provided a spot of color... ...there were two tiny, barely-visible lambent patches near the grip point, something which came with a vague sense of struggling movement. Fleur's guess was that either a timber wolf just hadn't been able to get away in time or the monster was trying to substitute for a center jewel. But of the seven giant monsters, the one in the lead had arguably done the best with its bouquet. The entity holding down the middle position had attempted to do something with boulders. A tiny part of Fleur's mind noted that it might have actually worked if all of the contact points hadn't been steadily melting into each other. She spotted a small flash of light near what, on any other being, might have been a neck. Before she could focus on it, the little bloom of illumination vanished -- and then seemed to reappear near the base of another monster's tentacle. Fleur's guess was that the things were setting off standing defensive spells as they moved, and none of the enchantments were strong enough to do any good. And all of them were advancing towards Ponyville, making the earth shake and the sky roar as she heard pony screams resounding from every part of the settled zone. Forcing the town to evacuate, as the invasion of atrocities slowly approached from the fringe -- -- the fringe. That was what snapped Fleur's thoughts into sharp relief. The gathering of grotesqueries was coming in from the fringe. She still didn't have Ponyville fully memorized, but she trotted out to the cottage just about every day and that was where they were approaching from and through and Fluttershy -- -- no. The cottage hadn't been touched. It took a single extra desperate moment before she truly saw that. The approach angle was very slightly off. Close enough that the monsters could look down on the cottage with ease, but... not a single appendage (or lack thereof) would have touched any part of the extensive grounds -- -- I'm levitating. ...of course she was. She'd gained altitude in order to get a better look at the trail, to make sure the cottage was safe. It was just that she was doing so in what currently passed for public view. Not that it really mattered. Just about all of her secrets were shattered, and with this particular detail -- nopony was really paying attention to Fleur. There was very little traffic in the air to begin with: the majority of pegasi had already evacuated. The stragglers had been slowed by their burdens, flying low to the ground in case the elderly and weak held within desperate pressure carries somehow slipped. For those still racing along the ground... most of them didn't bother looking back, because doing so might discover something was gaining on them. Up was worse. Ponies were screaming. There were so many of those screams. They blended into the alarms of the sirens, almost drowned out the noises created by splintering wood as more and more of the forest was destroyed by the advance. They blurred -- -- there was another scream, something new. A mare, down (because 'down' was the main option) and to the right. Fleur automatically glanced -- -- some ponies moved slower than others. This was especially true of those with an unaccustomed burden to carry. But most of them had practiced, because there was a certain way to look at an evacuation. Here we have a number of indicated directions. Pick one of them and start running. And Fleur supposed that if you were relatively new in town, or had been there for a while and were still somehow ignorant enough to believe it would do any good -- then residing near the police station would make some degree of false sense, and bring an equal lack of true comfort. Not that the mare had probably been thinking about that, or was truly thinking at all. The extremely pregnant mare, moving at the speed of cautious terror, had just peeked out of her newly-opened front door. She'd seen just enough to trigger the scream. But the left foreleg had just lifted, was stretching forward, almost came down again, spasmed, and then there was another scream as the spasms found another place to be... Fleur watched the mare go into labor with the weary pain of inevitability. She was just about to drop towards the now-prone, fast-kicking mare -- but a female white earth pony was already galloping in from the right. Somepony with a healer's mark, closing in on the sound of pain. That would do more good than Fleur ever could, and so she reoriented out of the brief dip, forcing her body to gain elevation again. Looking at the approach of the monsters, making sure her first impression had been the right one and the cottage was safe -- -- it's okay, they didn't touch the grounds -- -- any part of the grounds... ...is that a little curve there? They were almost on top of the coops. And then -- -- why would they...? Monsters on this scale tended to move in straight lines. There was very little which could make them perceive any need to detour. Or stop. Or slow down. Or, just to finish off the list, stop or slow down on the killing. But they seemed to have gone around the cottage... With what was almost the darkest of internal sarcasm, Maybe the rabbit scared them off. More flashes of white light appeared around the monsters: only one at a time, always brief and then moving on. They'd gone around the cottage. Not touching any part of the bridge. The stream had been easily forded. They hadn't contacted any part of the final approach trail -- -- and then she saw where the bulk of the middle monstrosity was. The thing which was so much like a snail distorted by nightmare into something with a hundred eyestalks and a shell which sweated pus. Which moved along the ground, carving out a fresh chasm as the earth failed to retreat from that which longed to corrupt. Relentlessly sliding forward as the fumes of its passage steamed into the sky. It had gone around the cottage, and the three in front of it had stepped over something which didn't qualify as an obstacle. Gone slightly by it, if only by accident, or heedlessly flown over. Uncaring about having missed a smaller target, when the main one lay ahead. The waking nightmare in the center of the line didn't acknowledge obstacles. Anything in its path existed to be destroyed, and even a corpse could find a new way to die -- -- she never would have made it. She could have gone to the triple corona, put everything she had into speed, and it would have let her cross perhaps fifty body lengths of that impossible distance. There was nothing she could have done, she knew it, and yet she found herself surging forward through the air, trying, pushing because she had to do something and there was sweat in her coat and the dirt was congealing around the drops and if something happened, anything, a single distraction, if the world would just give her one miracle... The world didn't listen. The world didn't care. The forward edge of the monster's endless bulk touched age-warped heartwood. It didn't notice. It didn't care. It just kept moving. The mill died. Perhaps every death cry made by the inanimate had been provided by her imagination. There would have been very little way to truly hear any of it at such a distance, and any true sound which reached her would have been lost in the soul-breaking din of her own endless scream. But still, she heard it. She heard wood fracture. Gears unevenly skipping for one last time before the mechanism explosively came apart, metal flying in all directions and for any which touched the monster, the final movement became the drip of newly-corrupted melt, flowing straight down. Filing cabinets crashed, the water wheel spun away, and anything as fragile as paper would fail to resist for so much as a heartbeat. She heard it all. She heard hinges being crushed. The last moments of something which had never grown on Equestrian soil, fighting to the last in a battle which was over in less than a second, which could only be lost because time always ran out and a feather warped, keratin pooled as foul liquid and she was screaming and screaming and she couldn't hold her position in the sky because she wasn't a true griffon, her corona had just winked out and she was plummeting and it was from a height great enough to potentially break her and the cobblestones were swelling larger in her sight and she didn't care because it was the last and it was gone and she'd failed and she deserved it -- Fluttershy -- Fleur's horn ignited. The corona surrounded her body in an instant, yanked up. It was just enough to let her land upright. Her knees didn't absorb the whole of the impact: all four flexed, but the jolt still reverberated through strained muscles, shook her skeleton and made her feel as if she must have chipped every hoof: there seemed to be some chance for the left hind one to have cracked -- "The Bearers are going to stay and -- do whatever they can." So where are they? Where is she? Focus. Look at the monsters. Figure the group had to know something about basic tactics. The monsters were advancing at a set rate, because they saw no need to hurry. But anypony who forced themselves to observe long enough could pick out the exact approach angle, might even be capable of calculating just when the horrendous weight would first touch an actual street. The trail of destruction came in around the cottage, hadn't touched the farmland. That meant the key was going to be protecting the town. Choosing a place to make a last stand -- -- somewhere along the eastern edge. Gives them the most observation time, the best chance to think. They can hold off on attacking until the monsters are just about on top of them. Fleur galloped. It hurt. The pain didn't matter. All around her, ponies moved. Most of them moved past her, going the other way. A few called out, and she missed most of the words. Something about evacuating, about how she had to run. And she hated being seen like this, with what had to be just about all of her cosmetics gone and dirty and exposed, but what really rankled her was having everypony act like she didn't know what she was doing. She was running, just like everypony else. (She was finally just like everypony else.) She was just the only one who truly knew where she was going. It had been Caramel who'd told her about the way in which the town evaluated threats... Nearly all of the screaming was gone: she was moving away from those sounds. It hadn't taken long for her subconscious to direct the din of destruction into background awareness, mostly for the sake of any remaining sanity. It meant she heard the mares before she saw them. "...I'm sure," Twilight shakily said, somewhere up ahead and to the right, with any actual view of the little alicorn currently blocked by somepony's fence. "I didn't want to be. But that's Gardul'ak. It can't be anything else. It's an exact match for the stories." (Fleur just barely heard the little gulp.) "Except for the puce. I can understand why the writer didn't want to spend a lot of time on the puce..." "So if there are stories," the bitch urgently checked, "then the last one is presumably a tale of victory -- oh, thank Sun: even as uncertain as that particular movement may have been, I have never been so happy to simply see you nod. And the story describes the means to defeat it? -- Sun and Moon, Twilight, tell us!" "There's a device. It's the only thing known to take him out." Everypony presumably nodded. "The bad news is that the very last one to ever exist exploded from channeling that much magic." Hastily, "But there are some partial blueprints. And the Equestrian Magic Society is fairly certain about roughly a fifth of the spells which were involved. So there would have to be some research. There's a chance that I could learn a few of the spells just through researching them, so I might be able to help with part of the enchantment. But we'd still need a marked device-maker to put it all together. And once that's done, we can take Gardul'ak out in one shot. While we're standing way back. In case the new device explodes again." "An' then that's done," Applejack checked. "Yes," Twilight shakily stated. "So all we have t' do," the farmer continued to verify, "is stall that one for -- how long, exactly?" Weakly, "Best case?" "That's the one Ah'd prefer t' get, yeah." "At least two years." There was a moment when all Fleur could hear was the sound of her own pounding hooves. "Ah," the bitch sighed, and her tones took on the weight of fully-understandable resignation. "Rather a pity about there being six more of them -- Spike, please, you have to stop, we know you're trying, but you're only going to exhaust yourself and we need you --" -- which was when Fleur came around the final corner, and multiple heads turned towards the sound of her final approach. Looking at her. Perhaps the world only granted wishes when doing so would turn the results against you. Fleur had longed for the opportunity to be with the full group. She was finally getting to see all of them together, and the only price being charged for that was having seven monsters on the approach. Plus her fur felt filthy. But they were all there. All six -- no, seven of them, and that was the final sign of just how bad it was. Because it was the complete set, and a yellow head turned just enough for Fleur to spot where moisture had saturated twin tracks of fur, running away from shock-widened eyes (and mane hair shifted just enough in the turn to let Fleur briefly see both). It was something they would have to fix before the Algonquin -- -- with half-sarcastic, almost deadened inner calm, I don't think either of us is getting to the Algonquin. Her charge could at least claim a personally-viable excuse. She noticed that five of the mares were wearing necklaces. The alicorn had something very much like a crown. She didn't think much of the designs. Twilight's little body had developed a slight downwards bend at the center of the spine. Her saddlebags were weighed down by far too many books, it was something which was beginning to split the seams around some of the more sturdy hardcovers, and that was with at least half of them having been removed. Those texts were (very carefully) scattered along the street, and a fully-prone Pinkie was rapidly shifting between multiple open volumes. Blue eyes darted back and forth along the sentences, searching... "The flying one could be Zlxyrks," the baker tried to announce, and almost made it. (It was the sort of word which forced the average tongue to tie itself, and Fleur distantly wondered what it would do to Polish. Also whether it was possible to make ponies pay for the honor of witnessing the process.) "I'll have to check another volume to make sure. The footnote on this one says the description might be suspect, since the author went mad -- Fleur?" That made the farmer turn, and Fleur couldn't tell if the hat going off-center was due to the shock in the mare's eyes or the vibrations from the lead monster's next step grounding themselves in exactly the wrong place. A hovering weather coordinator spun, the bitch sharply inhaled, and the little dragon, sitting on the street with head forward and eyes weeping, surrounded by what looked like pieces of shredded scrolls, frantically writing on what was almost the last intact one, didn't look up. "One more," the child desperately muttered. "One more. I just have to try. One more..." His right hand jerked up and away from the paper, flinging ink from the quill's tip onto cobblestone. The left hastily rolled up the scroll, scoring it in several places as frantic claw tips raked across the fragile material. His thin lips pursed, there was a wisp of weak flame -- -- the scroll didn't catch fire. It didn't turn into ash. It evaporated, paper to light to steam and gone -- -- there was a sound very much like a whip crack, as if the air had momentarily broken in half. Pieces of the newest shredded scroll drifted to the cold ground. The little dragon didn't seem to notice. "One more," he muttered as his right handling claws patted the ground around him, searching for anything which was still intact. "One more --" -- a pinkish corona gently surrounded his arms, lifted them away from the street. A second soft flicker of energy tilted his chin up. "Stop, Spike," Twilight half-whispered. "Please. Just... stop. One of them has to be generating a lockdown effect. We can't break it. All you're doing is wearing yourself out." (Fleur had longed for the chance to speak with Spike. To talk about being the only one of his kind, before he decided that his heart was that of a pony...) "I have to try!" the weeping child insisted. "If I can't get through...!" Pinkie's eyes briefly closed. "All of Ponyville can see them, Spike. And when they're that big... Canterlot can see too. The palace knows. They have to. Maybe... maybe they're just getting something out of the armory. Maybe they'll be here any minute..." It was the sound of hope. It was also the call of desperation, of begging the world to provide a miracle. Fleur knew exactly what that sounded like, and that was the smallest part of why she ignored it. Her charge was right there, only a few body lengths away. Staring at Fleur with that single visible eye, and the former escort longed for the chance to do something about the streaks in the fur. But her charge was right there, and... ...that was how Ponyville knew it was bad. Fluttershy wasn't running. The pegasus hadn't even really moved. She was just staring at Fleur, doing so through the film of moisture which coated that one eye, and her mouth had just begun to open -- -- but naturally, the bitch just had to step in. Fleur had slowed down: running into the group wasn't going to help anything. She was making the final part of her approach at normal walking speed. And the smaller white body turned, obviously-fake eyelashes shifted as elaborately-arranged mane and tail curls tried to create the illusion that they were tossing themselves, the bitch was on the approach and Fleur couldn't do anything about it except watch, as the elegant hoofticure did its poor best to glide across stone while behind her, the same patch of light flashed from monster to monster. With the others doing nothing more than watching. "I had not expected this," the bitch slowly said. "At the very least, I had hardly anticipated having the chance to do this now." Starkly, "But as it appears that we may all have a very limited amount of time, and certain things should be said before any possible ending..." Really? Fleur silently asked herself as chipped hooves (they were chipped at the very least, she was in front of the bitch while at her worst) stopped in place, their owner checking for the best lunge angle to bring her past the annoying obstacle. She really has to do this now? But the bitch was right in front of her. There was a moment when the purple eyes were half-closed, and then the bitch reared up, Fleur began to dodge -- -- you had to learn about physical contact, if you were going to be an escort. If you were... pretending to be a pony. There was a sort of nuzzle which was exclusively meant for lovers, and you weren't supposed to use that in the bedroom because you were an escort and that was going too far. Others were meant as expressions of arousal: something for a partner. A few more were designed to inspire it. This nuzzle wasn't any of them and Fleur, frozen by twisting confusion, had no idea what to do about the forelegs which had just been draped across her dirty shoulders. "Anything I can provide," Rarity half-whispered as the first of the designer's tears fell into Fleur's fur, while mares and dragon did no more than watch. "Within my limits to give, Fleur: anything. I'll find an attorney. Testify on your behalf. If we all live through this, if it might help, whatever might help, if there's even the smallest chance. I will do my best to help you. If the most expensive lawyer on the planet is what you require, then that is what you shall have." With a sound halfway between laugh and sniff, "I suppose the Boutique can always be sold..." The former escort had mastered two languages and multiple accents. She had fractions of other tongues locked away in memory: at least enough to know when she was being insulted and deliver a devastating rejoinder in return. Linguistically, it was sufficient to typically offer her a multitude of options. "...what?" Which seemed to summarize all of them. The designer pulled back, dropped down to the ground again, stared up at Fleur with wet eyes. "With this kind of debt? I owe you no less than everything," Rarity quietly, fiercely stated. "How else am I supposed to repay you? What is the price of my sister's innocence, Fleur? There is no amount you could name which would ever be high enough --" The Protoceran's jaw dropped, and the words "...your sister?" tumbled out. Every monster advanced. The world shook. Rarity, with open bemusement, slightly tilted her head to the left. "You didn't know?" Several thoughts were blurring their way through Fleur's mind. At least one Bearer had some idea of what had happened: that was bad enough. Fluttershy looks like she's been crying for hours was still in danger. The Bearers clearly didn't have a real plan of attack. But first and foremost, at least for that single moment, was this: I've been in this town for moons. I've been distracted. There's been so much to do, so much to arrange and direct and control. But I've still been here for moons, trying to work out what the social web is like even with all of the distractions, and I couldn't figure out that a major strand was directly linked to a minor one. Never got a basic piece of information. ...if it wasn't for my talent... I'm the worst blackmailer in the world. She heard hoofsteps pounding closer, coming up from the same route Fleur had taken. It jolted her back to awareness. "I... you don't exactly visit your parents much!" Fleur huffed. "And I don't really talk to Sweetie, and --" Sun and Moon, her father told me to have a good time with the dress "-- it's not as if you could be bothered to mention --" The designer was smiling. "-- yes. Well, most ponies know," Rarity shrugged. "With a few avoiding the Boutique accordingly. Guilt by bloodline. I stand by my promise, Fleur." Almost flippantly, "Should we all survive, of course. If we do not..." and then the purple eyes closed. "...the point becomes moot. Are you evacuating? Or --" "-- I --" was as far as she got before the shadow of an unwelcome mare whipped itself around the corner. "We're just about finished evacuating," Miranda barked. "The town will be clear for you in another -- Moon's craters!" Hooves scrabbled on stone, dumped momentum into a turn and nearly dropped the unicorn to the ground right in front of Fleur. "I told you to evacuate!" It was the briefest moments of unexpected pleasure which you truly had to treasure... "I left the station," Fleur calmly stated, thoroughly enjoying the basic fact of getting to stare down. "So I evacuated. And you don't have the time to spare for me right now, Miranda. Or any officers. Including yourself." Grey-green eyes glared at her. Briefly glanced towards Fluttershy -- -- Fleur's charge took a single, trembling hoofstep forward. "...please go," the pegasus whispered. "You have to go..." The former escort shook her head. "...you... you can see them. Everypony can. The palace..." A slow breath. "...the palace should have..." The ground trembled, and did so in perfect concert with every soft yellow feather. "...Fleur... you can't be here. Not if... not if we lose. You can't..." Prey runs. You're my charge... Another head shake, just as the wind put the scent of rot into every snout. It was possible to hear feathered wings on the approach now. Something coming through the air, closing towards Bearers, spectator, dragon, and monsters. The blue-green eye slowly closed. "...we don't have time to fight, either," the pegasus softly stated. "I don't know if we have time for anything..." "-- I'll buy time." The trembling words made everypony look up. And even through the shadow, dark blue reflected into their eyes. "I just have to get close," the shaking metallic announced, as wide wings struggled to maintain the hover. "They'll follow me anywhere after that. I can lead them away..." Most of the Bearers looked confused. (Most, but not all.) Miranda simply took a step back, all the better to let her stare into the sky. And then she shook her head. "It'll work." There was something about the wide sunlight-yellow eyes: an aspect trapped at the midpoint between determination and terror. "It should work. Anything sapient. At least some of them have to be capable of thinking. Of... wanting... Chief Rights, I can at least draw a few of them off. I have to --" "You've never tried it," Miranda softly said. "Given that your talent is unique, I think I can safely say nopony ever has. Not with those things. And even if they react... we don't know how they express that reaction. They could follow you. Or they might try something else. Something based on catching you, on the spot. They could have a thousand ways of doing that and we've never seen any of them. Joyous, you --" Shaking. Trembling. Barely holding sky at all, and the too-young voice was threatening to crack. "-- I have to try --" Cyan wings flared. The downblast of wind ruffled fur, and then the weather coordinator was in front of the metallic. "You're an endurance flier," Rainbow stated. Frantically, "It means I can lead them off! I can keep in front of them for --" "-- endurance, Joyous. Not speed. One of those monsters has wings, and we don't know how fast it goes!" A single flap closed the minimal remaining distance between them, all the better for the magneta gaze to furiously glare into yellow. "There's being a hero, and there's suicide! Don't try it! Not unless we've failed, not unless everything's failed, because the price for your being wrong about one thing is you! If that one catches you with the, what's the word, that thing it's holding, it was in Canon Eight, club..." It's a bouquet -- Some of the vibration faded from the metallic fur. "So wait until there's no other choice," Joyous interpreted. "Got it." The metallic landed, touching down ten body lengths away from Fleur's left flank. She wished it was five thousand. Everypony in this town is crazy... "The Elements?" Miranda was trotting up to Twilight: Pinkie quickly scooped several books out of the way. "We're ready," the alicorn said. "But we've never used them like this before, and that's why we're trying to think of anything else. If they fail, before they fail. It's always been one target, Miranda. We don't know how wide the beam is, or if we can try to use the magic multiple times in succession. We've never had to ask ourselves about how much power they hold." The librarian's eyes scrunched, and a drop of moisture was quickly soaked up by the fur. "I should have tried to do more testing. That's my fault..." "Nopony saw this comin', Twi," the farmer firmly stated. "Y'had no way t' know. And the other side, which you ain't sayin' right now, is that you've been afraid t' test in case somethin' went wrong there. If they've got a charge level, we don't know how fast it comes back. Testin' could have run it down. At least they're at full strength." "But we don't know," Twilight miserably countered. "We don't know what the limits are, and everypony's counting on us..." "Teleport?" Rainbow asked. "Just put them somewhere else --" "-- mass limit," Twilight sadly stated. "They're a lot bigger than an Ursa Minor, and my limit's lower on a teleport than a lift anyway. I can't think of a single casting which might work. They're all too big, Rainbow. I don't think a hurricane could take out anything other than the flyer, and I'm not even sure about that. But... get ready. Just in case." The little mare's head turned a little. Stared past the monsters, beyond the next of the mobile white flashes, into the east. At a mountain and silent spires. "They have to know," she whispered. "They know we're not enough. Where are they...?" As far as Fleur was concerned, it was a legitimate question. If Ponyville could see the monsters, then so could Canterlot. A supposed Princess who didn't bother to pay her Bearers would still presumably have a few public questions to answer regarding losing the entire set. Sacrificing a town wouldn't strike the press as much of an improvement, presuming anypony lived long enough to write the story because the monsters might just keep coming. The palace should have been doing something, and perhaps that related to what the little dragon had been attempting with the scrolls: a possible second form of alert. But Twilight's question had been the speech of a mare who was wishing for a miracle. And there had been no answer. "Found another one," Pinkie announced. "Zifygyas -" and winced as her gaze went over the next part of the page. "-- um. Yeah. I... really really shouldn't read anything out loud which isn't the name..." I knew that. Who doesn't know Zifygyas? ...ponies. It had been a griffon victory, after all. "Twilight, that's the third which is supposed to be in Tartarus," the baker anxiously observed. "I think it could be all of them. How did they even get out?" "We'll worry about that after we stop this group." More softly. "If... But we can't let them get much closer." Narrow purple shoulders were forced into alignment: hips locked. "We'll have to try soon. Get ready to attack, everypony --" There had been no answer. No response from anything which might save them, as Pinkie got to her hooves, as Rainbow turned to face the monsters again. As a flicker of Twilight's field centered the crown, Applejack's jaw set, Rarity's eyes went fierce, and Fluttershy refused to run. please run There had been no answer. And there was nothing Fleur could do. Her own trick... she couldn't use it on anything which wasn't completely surrounded by her field, and no unicorn could project a bubble that big. Using sexual desire against them presumed they had something which could be manipulated -- -- her imagination could stop now: trying to picture his pet had been bad enough -- -- and really fell into Joyous' realm anyway. All Fleur could do was find out if they had that kind of desire to start with, along with what they wanted -- presuming her sanity survived it. And since the metallic served as a living override... ...why am I here? Because the relationship was guardian and charge. The guardian didn't run. The guardian thought of something and did it -- sacrifice -- no matter what it took... But she couldn't think of anything she could do. And it felt as if all anypony was doing was waiting for a miracle. Something from the Elements, from Canterlot. And there had been no answer. There never could be. Until there was. White light flashed near the lead monster's head. Then it vanished. And then it appeared in front of them. "Do not attack!" The mismatched arms were spread wide: possibly an extravagant gesture, or just an attempt to block any upcoming blast of magic. Talons were flexing in and out, while the paw was... somewhat weighed down... (It would take a little time before anypony truly looked at what was carefully balanced atop the paw. The limb was carrying something utterly mundane and therefore, when it came to this entity, it was almost too strange to see.) They stared, every last one of them, and that number very much included Fleur. Because there had been a hope for miracle and if you couldn't get one of those, then at least you had him. Someone who had appeared just in time to help what he claimed as his only friend. "I've been talking to them!" He began to pace back and forth in front of the group, forming a mobile barrier between Ponyville and the monsters: the claws tended to drag a little. "For quite some time." With a truly horrible smile, "I seem to recall several of you insisting that it's best to talk things out first. And there might have been something about never being the first to escalate...? Well, at any rate, we've been talking. And they have assured me that their intentions are peaceful. They told me that at the very start, when I first saw them approaching. Frankly, I have full faith in their sincerity." With a dismissive sniff, followed by a direct look at the little dragon, "It's why I've been blocking all attempts to contact the Grimcess, because we all know that she's just itching to start a fight. Save your flame, young one: I'm sure we'll need something to heat the celebration grill tonight --" "-- you've been blocking?" Twilight yelped, and wings flared: two flaps put her in front of the red eyes. "We've been trying to get help for --" Miranda wasn't moving. The dark mare was stock-still, with tail motionless and mouth slightly open. Fleur took a little comfort from that. "-- when no help is strictly needed!" The laden paw executed half a gesture before quickly shifting to rebalance the load. "These gentlem -- these fashiona -- these beings have peaceful intentions, I promise you! Peaceful, and fully comprehensible! That's why I cut the lines of communication hours ago, when I first knew they were on the approach!" Another sniff. "I had to turn a pegasus around rather early. And even now, just keeping the palace from seeing what's truly taking place..." The slow head shake made horn and antler cut the air: pieces of atmosphere crashed into the street. "Nopony appreciates my efforts to keep the peace. A lesser being could become annoyed by that." The ground shook again. Maggots rained down into dead trees. "Peaceful," Twilight dubiously repeated. "You want us to believe they're peaceful." "Yes," the draconequus stated. "And as such, I simply wish to help them achieve their fully peaceful goal. After which, they will leave." Thoughtfully, "Well, depending on how it goes, one of them might have to stay for a while. Peacefully. It might go to two or more, but that's obviously an outside case --" Something strange was happening to the alicorn's eyes. They were beginning to lose color, paling as white flushed the whole of the orbs, surging from the outer edges and working in. "Discord..." "-- and if it somehow doesn't work out," Discord magnanimously interrupted, "I'll send them back to where they came from! And lock the doors. And throw away the key. Not that there's a key, but in the spirit of the thing --" "...give him a chance," Fluttershy whispered. "At least give him a chance to explain. If he's willing to send them back, then..." "I am," the draconequus stated. "Any number up to all of them. Dependent on the results of a peaceful approach and allowing the group to conclude their collective business." Slowly, purple faded back into the librarian's glare. The little alicorn landed. Stared up into madness. "Talk fast," she half-snarled. "They're close. Give us a reason to believe you, Discord. Give us every reason." He beamed. Most of them bounced off the metallic's fur. "As I'm sure most of you know," he began, straightening himself up as much as the curved spine would allow, "Fluttershy has recently begun to investigate the possibilities offered by dating! And I? Am practically a lettered expert on the subject!" Both upper limbs spread out again. "Not that anypony was aware of that, but I'll try not to be insulted that none of you asked --" "...dating?" Rarity whispered. "How is this possibly about --" "And the news has spread far and wide!" The upper limbs duplicated the feat, defining a good part of the town's border before compressing back. "-- oh, no..." Fleur was staring at him now. Looking directly into insanity, and wondering what it would cost her later. It didn't seem to matter. Her time had run out and in the most absolute sense, she didn't have a great deal of 'later' remaining. Technically, she and Rarity had probably reached a near-identical conclusion at roughly the same time. But she'd already decided that hers was the mind which was racing ahead, galloping towards an unbreakable taut finish line covered in the finest of diamond dust, something meant to cut -- "As well it should," he added. "When a mare of such surpassing beauty, who should be the ideal for pegasi everywhere --" and another sniff "-- as could clearly be perceived by anypony with taste -- announces her availability, then the world itself would do well to pay attention." All four of Fluttershy's knees bent. Slightly-oversized wings sagged at the joints. "In this case," Discord continued, "the announcement, through unfathomable means, somehow happened to reach their part of the world. And what, I ask you, is life without the prospect for romance?" "...this ain't funny," Applejack just barely managed as the thick blonde tail completed another lash. "Not even you could ever think this is funny." "I have not," the offended entity stated, "made a single joke. You will know when I wish to be funny, Applejack. The lot of you are suitable for any number of punchlines." "-- y'can't be serious --" "-- he is," the book awkwardly said. And then they were staring at the tome which was balanced so carefully upon his paw. It was a fairly thick paperback: Fleur had seen a few of the type debut at publishing parties, and somehow recalled that the style was known as a perfect-bound. The visible portion of the covers were mostly rendered in a rich, warm reddish-brown: the exceptions were thin, curving lines of gold which provided a partially-obscured title, and announced that the numbered volume was part of a series. Page edges displayed an even white, and there were no folds, creases, or small rips. It was a book which had been looked after with exacting care. Discord's head slowly turned. His eyes rolled down the limb, stopping well short of where the blood might have threatened to stain the paper. The talon carefully reached out. Picked up the orbs, and facepalmed them back into their sockets. "...right," he softly said to himself. "She's still visible. And audible. Details, always details..." the shoddy stallion talking to the contents of his saddlebag Twilight's eyes seemed to be inclined towards strange acts. They were currently lit from within, and the alicorn's wings were flaring again. Trying to get closer, as an expression both mystical and mystified took over the mare's features. "That book is talking," the librarian just barely breathed. "How is it --" Something about the lettering on the cover appeared to squint, and then the book spoke again. She had a slightly high voice, with piping tones. It was the sort of voice which had been made for apologies. It wasn't all that bad at observations, either. "She's an alicorn," the book innocently noted. "There aren't supposed to be very many of those. Is she somepony's original character?" Wings slammed against Twilight's sides, and the crash landing from three hoofheights above the street was nothing compared to the fiery arrival of Ultimate Offense within the furious set of the narrow chin. "Original..." Twilight sputtered. "...original..." Discord's warped features were now displaying an odd mix of pride, smirk, and embarrassment, all of which vibrated as the monsters got that much closer. "I did say lettered expert," he muttered. "I presume some of her ink forms letters." A little more loudly, "Very well, then. Introductions are clearly in order." He cleared his throat: most of the debris slumped sideways into the street. "This is Harem Fantasy --" "-- I'm very sorry about all of this --" the book softly broke in. "-- who has been serving as my research assis --" and he glared at Twilight. "-- I wasn't going to tell you that... Very well: she has been instructing me in certain facets of dating. Expertly. And of course, part of that is about the suitability of suitors! But personally?" The talon pressed against his chest, at the place where a heart likely wasn't. "I've learned that dating and romance are desirable things, and of course I'm simply happy that Fluttershy has chosen to desire something at long last." The long torso swept into a partial bow. "A friend is naturally pleased to do whatever he can to assist in reaching the goal --" you "-- but when it comes to determining suitability -- well, I simply don't feel qualified to judge!" He beamed again, and some of the false light pierced the near-winter clouds. "...Discord," Fluttershy whispered. "Oh, what have you done..." But there were times when no one truly listened to their friends. Not when the goal was so close to talon. The draconequus didn't hear her, or he ignored her. It didn't really matter, not just then. Instead, he beamed one last time, and began to advance on the true target. "Isn't it lucky, though?" he asked his audience. "I consider myself something of an expert -- but here, we have someone -- or is it somepony? We really do need to clear that up at some point -- who possesses the full doctorate! Who was assigned by the palace itself for just this very purpose, and so I'm certain she would be perfectly happy to fulfill it now --" He was right in front of her. And he stepped to the side. Stood at her right flank, and gestured with the talon towards rot and maggots and twisting spurs of bone. "Go ahead, Fleur," Discord softly requested. "Sort the catch." The second night in the new nest, after a few of the tears had briefly stopped. "You can't control everything." "I can't control anything..." The beak had slightly parted. A griffon's smile. "There's always yourself." She understood then, in the final minutes before the last of her came apart. you you brought Blueblood you were the one spreading word in the capital ...it was you with the glasses, wasn't it? the reason the entree caught fire you've been in this from the start I told you it was about dating and you didn't know what that was, so you looked it up Perhaps there was something in him which could at least pretend that it wanted his 'friend' to be happy. But there was very much an aspect that resented having any competition for Fluttershy's time. A limited resource which already saw hundreds of animals trying to subdivide the supply. And you had the other Bearers, the ponies he had to put up with because if nothing else, they had the ability to place him back within stone... ...and then there was Fleur. Who came by every day. Who stayed for hours. Who was arranging dates. Something which might eventually mean that even less of that attention went to him. He could at least pretend that he wanted Fluttershy to be happy. But he had his own desires. One might even be that happiness would result because of him. That if there was competition for that limited resource, he would at least get to choose its nature. And he very much wanted Fleur gone. She was staring at the monsters. At the spurs of bone. She wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed those before. But Discord was part of this, and it was possible that he had just arranged for spurs to appear... ...she was breathing too fast, her ribs were heaving and her tail had practically come apart, her eyes were far too wide and there was probably froth forming in her filthy coat, she was fully exposed in front of Bearers and Miranda and Joyous and she was filthy... "Admittedly, I saw fit to stop at a single layer. How do you manage, going around like that all the time?" "The makeup comes off. When I need it to." "Does it? It seems as if you've been halting well short of the skin..." How much does he know about me? The answer was easy. As much as he wants to. Nopony was moving, and perhaps that wasn't because of him. They were all staring at her. Something about the book's lettering almost seemed to be wincing. Apologetically. But he doesn't know enough. He's been -- herding these things for hours. He missed everything which happened at the party. He didn't see me fail. The first monster reached the town's border. Stopped, and things so much worse than eyes stared down. "Whenever you're ready," Discord jovially encouraged her. "And as promised, I'll send back any which you see as unsuitable. After all, we have to make room for the next wave..." And it'll be monsters everywhere, every day, for as long as it takes until I'm gone. But he doesn't know I'm going to prison. That I'm going home. Going home to die. I was already gone. None of this had to happen. It's not my fault. It was an accident... It's just... redundant. Which was when her charge -- charged. It was a blur of wings, a blast of air moving past Fleur's right flank. And then yellow hooves slammed into something approaching a tubular midsection, the draconequus bent inwards, limbs flailed, the paw protectively curled against the book, prevented it from falling -- "Fluttershy!" Pure shock. Disbelief. A seeming plea for the kick, something which never could have truly hurt him, to never have happened. But the draconequus could only alter the present, not the past... "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" she she can't be that loud she's... ...she always knew how she's stronger than "Or maybe you do, and you just decided it's easier not to!" Fluttershy shouted. "Because you don't want to understand! But I know, I know what's been happening when you don't, and you -- you have to take it back, all of it back, you have to make them --" She was starting to turn within the hover, getting ready for another kick. And his displayed expression was confusion mixed with a different kind of pain, Fleur couldn't see how the others were reacting because only his mattered, and that was only so she could see what the lies were. He could show any emotion he cared to, and Fleur would believe none of them. It was all about Fluttershy. Fleur's part in her charge's life was over, and... that was the way it should be. But he could destroy Fluttershy with a thought... He hadn't. He was partially doubled over on himself, seemingly helpless. Lost in confusion. But she believed none of it, and the monsters were still there. all of the monsters There was only one way to end it. As long as I stay alert. As long as I stay focused. As long as I'm not afraid. She taught me that. I wanted her to be proud of me. ...I killed her... I could have died, the very first day without her. But I was carrying the last of her. She was only there as long as I was. She's gone. All of her is gone. ...I'm going to die... I didn't mean to I will die. My time ran out at the moment I saw that predator for what he truly was. Everything after was just... a hoofstep on the road. Protocera will claim me for the older offense, the more severe. Celestia will let them. And I'll be executed. I'm going to die. Discord wins. Maybe she'll never find anypony. Never be happy. Maybe that ends the world. But I am not going to let him see me be afraid. "Fluttershy," Fleur calmly said, "leave him be." The hind legs almost locked in mid-lash. Red eyes stared at her. A coral mane shifted within the hover, and so did a pair of blue-green ones. "...what?" The payback would be waiting for her in the nightscape. You could never truly cure pain, and there were ways in which fear was only postponed. Her dreams would be horror, but... at least it would be a new kind of horror. And when there were only so many living dreams to come... I decide. "Sort the catch," Fleur repeated. She set her shoulders. A stress-tattered tail slowly swayed, and a dirty face looked up at the living, rotting hill. Fleur stepped forward. Then kept moving, going around the muddle of Bearers -- "It's not your fault," she whispered to Spike as she went by, and watched the curving projections at the sides of his head shift to catch her words. "Remember that. Nothing about this was ever your fault..." -- and past them, until she could no longer see anypony. Fleur simply heard them turn to watch, and she just barely registered Rainbow's stunned words. "So this is what happens when Fluttershy starts to date." Somepony presumably nodded. "Buck it," the weather coordinator declared. "I'm just gonna sleep around." Fleur ignored it. Sniffed the air, and her lungs filled with decay and death. The second monster caught up and took a place on the left of the first. It left her within a doubled shadow, to the point where there might as well have been no Sun at all. She sniffed again, just for the effect. "Really?" she sarcastically inquired, looking directly at the toxic mass -- and then her horn ignited. She levitated herself just enough to let her peer into the abyss of its eyes. It was easier than trying to bend her head and neck that far back. "Really?" she repeated. "This is supposed to be your serious attempt at courting her. And what are you carrying, exactly?" The rotting hill began to rumble. Fleur raised a glowing foreleg, and light danced on the titanium. "Shut up," she suggested. The rumbling paused. Resumed, became louder, the world began to shake -- "SHUT UP." The rumbling stopped. Further back on the trail, the acid fumes developed little curls of uncertainty. He broke you out of Tartarus. That's where the stories said you were placed, and they were true, weren't they? All of them. But he can send you back. He has enough power to do that much. So that's why you're -- behaving. With purely internal irony, Because Chaos laid down the rules. Fluttershy would eventually forgive him for scaring me off. After last night, she might even decide... it was the best thing. They'd have an argument about methodology, and that would be it. But she wouldn't forgive a death. It's been plants. Possibly no animals. ...can't really count the timber wolf. No ponies. The only structure which was crushed was empty, and... already dead. There are rules, aren't there? Rules which say you can't kill me. Protocera gets to do that. So... "I assume you packed to impress," Fleur declared, and nodded towards the attempt at a bouquet. "I've certainly never seen such an impressive failure. You think that's supposed to impress her? Impress anypony? 'Oh, look at me! I can destroy things!' So? Anyone can destroy! Name one thing you've made which isn't wreckage!" The hill blanched. It was a rather strange thing to see. It was black, it was puce, it was the place where colors died, and it was also rather distinctively getting paler by the second. There was a sound from behind it. A noise which felt like an earthquake was trying to snicker -- "-- and what makes you think you're any better?" Fleur instantly turned on it, reorienting her floating position to allow for a direct glare. "At least Gardul'ak --" her teeth properly clacked "-- thought to bring something! Let's look at what you came in with, shall we? Perfume, is it -- oh, wait: that's just your stench. And please understand that I'm only deliberately confusing the two for the sake of comedy. Couldn't even wash up first? And you think that's supposed to win her? When you can't even be bothered to make the effort for a bath?" The last thing she'd expected was a reply. "THE OCEAN RETREATS FROM MY PRESENCE --" It was also the last thing she was ever going to allow. "Then dive into Sun and burn it off! If you wanted her to love you, then you'd try to change the things which nopony could love! You'd try to be different! But have any of you looked at yourselves, really looked and don't give me 'the water refuses to serve as my mirror' either! I've heard about nearly all of you! There were stories in the nest, because it was fun to shiver yourself to sleep! I could name names, Brobigendian, and I could also talk about all the things which the world remembers! Things that name did!" The non-snail shell was now sweating more heavily. "I can recognize most of you, because you came out the same way you went in!" Fleur declared. "As monsters." Somewhere, somepony had just gasped. She ignored it. Two of the former prisoners of Tartarus were making new sounds, things which were normally meant to serve as a sign of no warning whatsoever. She ignored that too. "So I'm supposed to be evaluating you as suitors," Fleur challenged, and focused just in time to keep herself from dropping. "I'll make it easy. The first topic is pain. Tell me what you know about that." Almost eagerly, "PAIN IS MEANT TO BREAK THE WORLD --" "-- and you're done!" Several of the spurs curled in on themselves. "...WHAT?" Fleur's tail lashed in her charge's general direction. "She exists to take pain away! It's what she lives for! It's why everypony down there cares about her, is willing to stand with her and face something like you! Stand with the one who doesn't run, because she knows the only way to stop the pain is through confronting it! And all you can do is create pain, and you don't even care that you're doing it! You can't care -- and that --" nearly all of her volume dropped out at once "-- is what makes a monster." She could feel them staring at her, all seven of the atrocities. The collective weight of their gaze was trying to push through her skin. Don't fall. Not yet. Not yet... "That's the real dividing line, you know," Fleur falsely confided to them, and sent herself a little higher. "Caring. Animals can love. You see it at the cottage all the time, with anypony who truly cares about their companion and sees all of it returned. An animal can love. But you want to be her suitors, when the thing she wants most is for somepony to love her? YOU CAN'T EVEN PRETEND! You're here to offer the thing none of you are CAPABLE of! There's nothing in a monster which can love! What's in you that's even worthy of being loved?" (She was unaware of what was happening below.) (She didn't realize just how loud her voice had become.) (Her corona was spiking with rage. That would have been normal enough, if she'd allowed herself to recognize it. But all of the spikes were facing the same way...) "And you think you can compensate for that?" Fleur challenged. "Because oh, there's just something else so special about you! 'Oh, look at me, I can flip over planets!' And what about that makes somepony curl up to you at night? Seek you out when they've taken on so much of everyone else's pain as to make it their own, and you're the only one who could try to make it go away? You -- every last one of you -- all you do is create pain! And I don't want to hear 'Opposites attract!' You repel! Forget the water: the world doesn't want to be anywhere near you!" The rumbles came back, all at once. The acid fumes surged into the air, the buzzing of distorted wings got louder, and Fleur knew what was happening. There were rules: the only reason they've been allowed to get this far. But push them far enough, and a rule became one more thing a monster didn't care about. They could kill her at any moment, with no effort at all. Because the last thing some monsters wanted was to be told what they were. But she was already dead. "You actually think you're suitable? Because you have the strength to destroy? The will to corrupt?" she challenged one last time from the midst of her glowing hover. "It doesn't mean anything! That's the heart of it: the heart none of you truly have!" One of the tentacles was starting to unwrap from the dead bouquet. It didn't matter. "You want the truth?" Fleur shouted. "The pleasure of my Honesty? Then here it is! The reason I'll always reject you and everything like you, forever!" She rotated herself in the sky. Jabbed out a forehoof at each in turn, and a scant beam of Sun reflected from the metal. "She's too special for you! You're not good enough for her! And you're not good enough for her! You're not good enough for her! I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER --" Time stopped. It was an illusion. It had to be. There was still a heartbeat, still breath. Sun continued to move overhead, and the wind made its journey around the world and there were sounds because sound required time in which to travel, there were what felt like a thousand fresh words blooming below her and somehow, she heard none of them. For Fleur, every moment of her life had solidified around her own filthy, warped body and ears which had just pressed tightly against her skull, all the better to let her spend a frozen eternity trapped in hearing the echoes of her own words. Just the echoes, and... one more. no The moment broke. So did she. She spun in the air, doing so as the first burst of light surrounded the rotting hill, took it away. She aimed herself downwards, picked up speed even as the next monster vanished, went over the line formed by mares and dragon and chaos and book, and her legs were already moving as wounded hooves hit the cobblestone, clumsy non-flight into smooth gallop as her corona winked out because every bit of strength she had remaining needed to be used for one thing, the lone thing which remained. That which would never work, and still the fragments of her shattered soul tried because it was the last option left. Fleur ran.