//------------------------------// // XI. Revenge // Story: The River Rose // by Stosyl //------------------------------// Once Luna had gone to lower the Moon, Emerald descended the tower to leave orders with the Guard to inform Twilight Sparkle to come in the afternoon so he could get some rest. Only two of them were on duty, both standing at ease: the night shift had spoiled their discipline. “Up all night?” one of the guards remarked. “Yes,” said Emerald. “With the Princess?” said the other guard, casting a suggestive smirk through his purple bangs. Emerald’s nose felt like it was on fire. “You shut your mouth,” he barked furiously. “I’d like to see what the Princesses have to say about whatever rumors you two are spreading about them.” “I haven’t been spreading any rumors, sir,” the guard said, standing stiff with fear now, staring past Emerald like a soldier in a lineup. “Let’s keep it that way, you stupid goon. While you’re at it, I am the Court Mage, advisor to the domestic division of the Royal Defense Unit, and your superior. You will address me as ‘Your Eminence,’ or you will not address me at all. Understood?” “Yes, Your Eminence,” the two guards said in unison. “Good. Both of you wipe those smiles off your faces for good. Deliver your message, and do not bother me unless Twilight Sparkle has arrived.” “Right away, Your Eminence.” Emerald stomped through the Hall, trudged up the steps of the tower, and slammed his chamber door. He leaned against the door and sighed deeply. “How did I get myself into this?” he said to himself, dragging his hoof across his face. The sun was just coming up. Its light was just beginning to illuminate the stained glass of the window. He lay in bed, dragged the curtains shut, and breathed in the heavy darkness for a long time before he fell asleep. * * * A knock announced Twilight’s arrival just after one in the afternoon. Emerald Alembic was sitting at his writing desk when she came in, finishing a draft of instructions for the Royal Guard. A warm summer breeze blew through the open window and rustled a stack of papers, secured beneath an inscribed paperweight. Emerald stared at it now as he placed his latest draft beneath it for safekeeping. “What are you working on?” said Twilight behind him. “Instructions for my cold lightning spell,” he replied. “Princess Celestia came to me earlier asking me to teach the Guard more offensive spells. Apparently she doesn’t think defense is good enough for her soldiers. Woke me up from a good dream, too, just so her thugs could become deadlier.” “Hey, my brother is the Captain of those thugs,” Twilight teased. “Right, right,” he blushed, “where are my manners? Still, which would you rather be: deadlier, or safer?” “She’s only doing what she thinks is best.” Emerald huffed. “Best!” he exclaimed. “If two thousand years of wandering across Equestria has taught me anything, it’s that ponies can’t handle power. They use whatever they have: give them one million gold bits, they’ll spend it; give them the power to kill, they’ll exercise it. A Princess should know better.” Twilight stayed silent for a moment. “But you’re giving them the spell,” she said. “Doesn’t that make you culpable?” “Of course I’m not giving them the spell!” he howled. “It’s bad enough I taught them the sealing spell. No, the spell they’ll learn is a draining spell. It sucks the energy from their opponent so that he is too tired to stand, but it can’t kill. That’s as dangerous as I’m going to help someone become. Still, best to let them think they’re stronger than they are.” Twilight smiled; she wouldn’t have admitted it, but she agreed with Emerald. “So,” he said with a jovial grin, “how has our potion been treating you?” “Oh!” said Twilight. She had almost gotten used to it. “It’s amazing! Do you see the world like this all the time?” “No,” he laughed, “my senses are much more vivid. The potion just clears the pathways, like the first person to trample a trail through the forest. It takes a lot of work to clear a solid road, but when you do, information travels from your senses so smoothly, you’ll think you’re a different person.” “But everything’s so much more beautiful now,” she said. “It’s hard to believe there’s more to see than this.” “I’m sure that’s what you thought before this morning,” said Emerald. “Point taken.” Emerald sat down beside the coffee table at the foot of his bed, and motioned for Twilight to sit across from him. “You were right,” Twilight said. “About the birds. They were beautiful nightingales.” “I told you so,” Emerald smiled. “And now you’ll see why you need superior senses for alchemy.” He spent the rest of the day teaching Twilight Sparkle the alchemia vitalis. By midnight she had managed it, the sweat of exertion pouring down her face in rivulets. Exhausted, she said goodnight to her master and went to bed, passing Luna on her way out. * * * For the next three weeks, Emerald Alembic spent his days with Twilight Sparkle, and his nights with Princess Luna. Twilight learned quickly, managing the first four steps of transmutation in the first week, but still the only alchemy she could use was the alchemia vitalis. He had her practice with creating a large variety of plants in the mornings before she saw him, to develop her control and imagination. In the evenings, he and Luna met and talked, always for two hours or more. It was these late nights with the Princess, Emerald would later realize, that made all the difference in teaching him to laugh, to truly bond with another pony for the first time in millennia. What a relief it was, to bare his back with a smile, and let his companion keep her memory! What a relief it was, to be free of the ghost of River Rose. The soldiers of the Royal Guard became more skillful with Emerald Alembic’s techniques. They demonstrated well-controlled barrier spells—alchemical barriers absorbed shocks instead of resisting them, making them much more resilient; every pony ranked Sergeant or above successfully learned the sealing spell, and the First Lieutenants were the lowest rank trusted with the cold lightning spell, unaware that it was a non-lethal alternative in disguise. The weeks passed peacefully, and Stowaway Spade began to fade into a memory. Luna’s dreams had stopped since that first night, making her calmer and more amiable as the days flowed on. It rained every night during the last week of this blissful period, so that when the rain finally lifted, Emerald insisted to Luna that they go for a midnight stroll through the garden. The night was clear, but the air misty. The moon hung waxing above them as they passed through long rows of peonies on either side, as white as they were pink, retreating into their buds in the shadows of rhododendron bushes. There was a heavy breeze, so Luna and Emerald wore cloaks to keep the chill out. Luna made small talk at first, admiring the craftsmanship of Rarity’s cloak, calling attention to the chirping of the tree frogs, a sound she adored. Funny, she thought, how a change of surroundings can make strangers of close friends. “How are Twilight Sparkle’s studies going?” she asked. “It’s going great,” said Emerald. “I’m sure by next week she’ll be transmuting the elementals; fire, water, and all that. I know magic can summon them, but it’s good practice with the different methodologies. Besides, alchemy can control elementals, something magic can’t do. She seems excited about it all. She misses her friends, though, being in Canterlot so long. I’m letting her visit Ponyville this weekend. Of course, I had to get permission from Celestia. Both our time belongs to her.” “What do you think of my sister?” said Luna. “Be truthful. You always sound so opposed to her. She isn’t your enemy, Emerald. You know that, don’t you?” “Yet she isn’t my friend. You’re right to blame me for being hostile toward her, but she distrusts me, I can feel it in her gaze.” “No one’s blaming you, Em,” Luna said; she had gotten into the habit of using this pet name with Emerald. “But I want to know what you really think of her.” Emerald sighed. “I think Twilight was right: she’s only doing what she thinks is best. But now half the Royal Guard is running around armed with a spell that’s deadly if you’re not precise—I still regret handing over that spell! The other half are undisciplined foals, and it’s a miracle they can climb out of their cradles every morning to go on duty.” “Oh, Emerald, stop exaggerating.” “I’m telling you, Luna, there’s something wrong with those Guards. You should hear the way they gossip about us.” Luna blushed fiercely. “What do they say?” “It’s not important. But ponies who spread rumors spread dissent. Dissent is anarchy, and anarchy is dangerous when you’re dealing with the Princesses’ Royal Guard.” At the end of the cobblestone path, standing in front of a grove of crabapple trees, Emerald caught sight of a vague silhouette, a solid black shape, indistinct in the sallow moonlight, wan like a blur. Emerald froze and stretched his right foreleg out to stop Luna. A chill began to suffocate him. “Who goes there?” Emerald called out. Silence. “The Royal Garden is off-limits to civilians,” said Luna loudly. “If you do not identify yourself, you will be seized and arrested.” “By who, then?” came a voice beside them. Emerald felt ice-cold; his heart stopped beating for a moment. Stowaway Spade emerged from between a pair of purple smoke bushes, still wearing his jet black cloak, face covered by that familiar mask. Channels were gouged in the mask and painted red, scarlet like tears of blood. The silhouette along the path began to approach. “Y’all are surrounded,” said Spade, “so don’t try nothin’. Move and I’ll make ya dead.” Emerald remained motionless, caring more for Luna’s safety than his own. He tried not to speak, not wanting to entrap himself into one of Spade’s provocations. He thought only of a means of escape: Could they teleport away? No. Spade never bluffed, and they couldn’t risk stumbling into one of his henchmen. In any case he could not teleport a great distance, and he could not risk becoming too tired. “Alchemy’s so honest, ainnit, Emerald?” Spade went on, his voice adopting a superior coldness. “Straight n’ clear! Not like unicorn magic, what weasels its way around till it gets what it wants. Alchemy is what it is—just like you n’ me. You really was a genius, comin’ up with all that. Diff’rent time, diff’rent place, I’d rather ha’ liked you, Emerald. You’re an Earth pony at heart.” “I wish you had thought that before you murdered my wife,” Emerald hissed. “Maybe you would have let us be.” Emerald could no longer hold back the tears; they came slowly, and his knees felt weak. Did he still have all these feelings? Were they so fresh? The tears blurred his vision—who was that stallion approaching along the path? “Now, now, Emerald, no hard feelings. You got what was yers and I what’s mine, and fair is fair. But you,” he added, growing angry, “you took what never was yers to take. You upset the balance, and that’s what I’m here to restore.” “Balance!” said Luna. “Vengeance is not balance! Emerald—” “Luna, for heaven’s sake, be silent,” said Emerald in a hushed tone. “You sure know how t’ pick yer friends, Emerald, I’ll give ya that. Star Swirl the Bearded himself, and now Their Royal Highnesses. Howdy, missus,” Spade said with a feigned bow. “Y’all mind givin’ me and my friend a mite o’ privacy?” “We will not be spoken to this way,” said the Princess sternly. “What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Spade laughed, coughing and sputtering over his enjoyment. “Where you from, missus? This world ain’t got no heavenly tiers as reach your Royal pride.” “What do you want, Spade?” Emerald shouted. “What do I want?” Spade teased. “Well, I ain’t a greedy stallion, Emerald, not like you. All I want’s what’s mine. All I want’s to get back what you took from me. And once I got it, I’ll plant a white lily on yer grave.” “What do you mean, get back what I took?” “Shucks, Emerald, I’m insulted. I know they say a loose-lipped stallion’s any stallion’s fool, but be warned: I ain’t nopony’s fool. I’ll get what I’m after. I always do. And I’ll pry it from yer rigid hooves.” “Try it,” said Emerald. “Whitesnout!” Spade called. Emerald’s eyes were clear now. He saw the distant figure closing in faster, trotting to fulfill an order. The stallion stood next to Spade so that his face was clear even in the pallid moonlight. “Whitesnout?” said Luna, going pale. “Lieutenant Whitesnout?” “Promoted in the spring for sacrifice in the line of duty,” said Spade. “Do you remember what he sacrificed?” Whitesnout hung his head with an expression of agony. “His own soldiers,” Spade grinned. “Mister Whitesnout,” said Luna, her voice shaking, “you are hereby stripped of your rank and privileges, and ordered to remove yourself from the castle grounds.” “Luna, he’s not listening,” said Emerald. “That’s an order!” she cried. “Luna!” Spade’s hacking laugh tore through the air in the garden, scattering birds and silencing the tree frogs. “Kill ‘em,” Spade said to Whitesnout. “And be quick about it, too, they ain’t got but their screams, and we don’t want company.” “Positions, soldiers!” Whitesnout barked. Within seconds a band of unicorn stallions in the dress of the Royal Guard surrounded Emerald and the Princess. Each of the six stallions wore the badge of a sergeant, announcing their ranks proudly. “This isn’t good,” Emerald whispered to Luna. “We’re surrounded by the only ponies in the kingdom who know my most dangerous spells.” “What do you mean?” said Luna. “They’re impostors. They have to be.” Emerald shook his head. “These aren’t impostors. See that one, the one with the purple mane? He was on duty guarding the Watch Tower the night you came to tell me your dream. He smirked at me. He wasn’t wearing his rank—damn night guards, no discipline. I thought he was a private.” “Steady!” Whitesnout called in a high voice, his voice clicking with emotion. “Lieutenant, you have no reason to do this,” said Luna. “On with it!” shouted Spade. “Kill the Mage,” said Whitesnout, “seal the Princess. Fire at will!” With that, the garden was a blaze of glowing horns, flashes of magic, dancing figures. The sound of unicorn magic, like the tinkling of one thousand tiny bells, spread itself beneath the noise of stamping hooves that gave chase to Emerald and the Princess of the Night. They ducked and galloped, running from those who had sworn to guard them with their lives. Two of the Guard were shot down by friendly fire as Emerald and Luna made their escape from the ring of guards. They writhed in agony, the sealing spell spreading slowly from a hit to the belly, facing a slow and irreversible death. Emerald winced, but prepared a barrier spell and kept running. “They’ve got bad aim,” he shouted back to Luna. “For us, that’s both good and bad. They’re less likely to hit us, but if they do, we might as well be dead. We’ll certainly wish we were.” “Wait!” Luna said. “We can’t stop now! What is it?” Luna stopped running and blasted the path behind them with magic. The cobblestones began to shift and move, climbing over each other and forming a wall from tree to tree. She took some border stones with her magic and brought them to life and gave them shape. They clung to each other magnetically, forming rigid primate bodies of thick torso and long, stone arms. The monkeys plucked the paving stones from the earth and hurled them over the wall as projectiles at the ensuing soldiers. Luna began moving again. “Good work,” said Emerald with an impressed smile. “I’d almost forgotten how useful your side of magic can be in a tight spot.” Emerald caught sight of Spade giving chase through the trees behind them and increased his pace. Luna kept up easily, her long legs producing such a fluid stride that one would be forced to think she ran so slowly for Emerald’s sake. The remaining four sergeants trailed behind Spade, and Whitesnout flanked them on the left. A blast of magic came roaring past like a pressure wave. It passed between Emerald and the Princess with inches to spare. “What was that!” cried Luna. “Draining spell,” said Emerald. “Run faster! Barriers are absorbed by draining spells!” More sealing spells came from Spade’s entourage, but Stowaway himself made no effort to attack. Emerald stared at Spade as he ran. Spade was looking at him so intently, so coolly, so ready to take aim and fire. What stopped him? Emerald fired a cold lightning spell at Spade. The spell missed, slicing down a very old maple tree on impact, and still Spade kept running. He did not retaliate. Why, Spade, Emerald thought, why don’t you fight me yourself? From behind him a pressure wave struck his head. He turned and saw Whitesnout’s horn still aimed in his direction. He fell. Emerald’s face plowed into the cobblestone path. All the energy drained from him until he could not feel the pain in his face, nor in his ankle, which he felt snap during the fall. “Emerald!” Luna shrieked. She stopped running and stood over him. “Em, you have to get up! Em, they’re coming, you have to stand!” “I can’t,” he said. “Are you all right?” “At least it wasn’t cold lightning,” he smiled weakly. “Seal the Princess!” Spade shouted from a distance. Sealing spells rained down from the posse, flying past her, hitting trees and pavement. Luna let her barrier fall; she tried to lift Emerald onto her back to carry him, but he was too heavy to carry. She set him down. It was a struggle for Emerald to speak. “I have to take in energy,” he whispered. “I’ll pass out if I don’t.” “Take mine!” Luna cried. “You don’t understand.” “Fire now!” said Spade. A sealing spell hit the Princess square on the side, piercing through to her heart. It worked its way through her blood to the spleen, the liver, the intestines, the forelegs and hind legs, and into her head. She fell down, cold as stone, frozen in place on the garden path. Emerald cried out in a raspy voice. He had lost; he had done nothing. He had failed to protect his friend. “Whitesnout,” said Spade severely as he approached, “what in the Sam Hill is this?” He was pointing at Emerald on the ground. “Sorry, sir, I’m not sure.” “I told you to shoot to kill, soldier, shoot to kill.” “But sir, I was. I was using the cold lightning spell, like he taught us.” “That was not cold lightning,” Spade sneered. Whitesnout glanced nervously at Emerald. Stowaway Spade saw this and broke into one of his hacking laughs, which lasted for what felt like a minute. The numbness, the need for sleep passed through Emerald until it was a fight for life to stay awake long enough to prepare his escape. “Emerald, you sly dog,” said Spade. “Leave it to you never to trust another soul, not even yer own guards. You know, Emerald, I’m actually glad. Truly I am. It’s better this way.” “Better?” Emerald breathed. “You sealed the Princess, didn’tcha? The Royal Guard heard her screams, but—shame ain’t it?—they was too late. But they caught ya, and they had to kill ya to take ya down. Best of all I get to do ya in myself, and I got five soldiers here as’ll testify you killed two of their rank, and it was self-defense on their part. Won’tcha boys?” “Yes, sir!” the guards replied in chorus. “You’re wrong, though, Spade.” “How d’ya figure that, Emerald?” “You have nothing.” Emerald shifted his weight, revealing a seal on the stone, drawn in the blood that was still dripping from his face. He smiled to one side. Stowaway Spade ran for cover without so much as a shout, giving no warning to the soldiers, who stood unmoving and had no time to follow suit. From the seal a heavy torrent of magic flowed like arrows at each of the five soldiers. Another went for Spade and was intercepted by a walnut tree as he ducked behind it. The five soldiers became stiff and rose onto their hind legs, their bodies giving in to a paroxysmal fit. All the energy drained from their bodies, through the seal, and entered Emerald Alembic. Emerald felt his strength return and tried to stand. His ankle collapsed on him and he remembered the pain. He took a moment to heal his ankle and his face, then rushed to find Spade. By the time he ran into the depths of the garden, Spade had disappeared again. All that remained were five soldiers of the Royal Guard lying dead in the garden path; two others still dying, projecting their screams faintly but audibly into the silent night; and Princess Luna, trapped in a sealing spell, lying limp amid the corpses.