//------------------------------//
// Separated From The World 
// Story: The Immortal Dream 
// by Czar_Yoshi 
//------------------------------//

The moon was still climbing in the sky when we got off the train in the Day District at the stop closest to the Gates to the Underworld. Toasty night air greeted me, even though I was still trying to cool off after my trip to the sauna. I had lived in Ironridge too long for complaining about the heat to have novelty, anymore, but I really wished it would just go away.

The barkeep greeted us with a wordless nod as we stepped inside the establishment. Apparently, it was too early in the night to go carousing, because most of the tables were empty. I had a mind to pass straight through to Fort Starlight, but apparently Corsica had other ideas.

"Gimmie something with ice," she said, plopping herself down on a bar stool at the main counter.

Well... sure. We had time to kill. "Same," I said, joining her.

The barkeep gave us an appraising look, giving me the faint sensation that I was being judged for my age. Then two glasses were slid out to us, mine filled with something cold, not fizzy and very sweet. Corsica, I noticed, paid for both of us.

I sipped, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did.

Hadn't we just spent an hour doing nothing, sitting in the sauna? Wasn't it time to get busy again? Sure, we might have had all night to wait, but better to cross that bridge once everything else that needed doing was done, right? Worst case, we could take the teleporter and then wait in the hideout for dawn. We might even need that time to reach an understanding with Jamjars, assuming she was still stranded there and hadn't found her way to Icereach on her own.

There was just no reason not to go fast. I was antsy; I had committed to a risky plan and now it was time to see it through. Just like during the Aldebaran incident itself, waiting was the worst part.

Ironic, given the number of times over the past week I had wished my life would slow down, give me a break and be normal for a change. And Corsica didn't look bothered at all.

I reminded myself that, even though she had agreed to come with me, she wasn't in a condition to do much of anything at all. If I didn't need her for getting past Ludwig, part of me wanted to tell her to stay in Ironridge and take it easy...

Restless, I glanced to the alicorn statue set into the wall. It was just like the rows of statues in storage in the hideout, except the gem in its choker was red and I was fairly sure the other ones had been green. Why those statues were there was one of the many mysteries from the Aldebaran incident I had never solved, even now that Leif was willing to tell me everything.

The first time I was here, I remembered the barkeep telling me that statues like this used to be used to pray to the Night Mother, back in the east. Maybe she would know.

"Hey," I said, getting her attention. "That statue..."

She raised an eyebrow, polishing a mug with a rag. An old, heavyset batpony who looked to be in her seventies, her eyes sparkled with ancient wisdom and weariness, as though she had lived a life every bit as eventful as mine, except my past week was her every week for decades on end. "If you want to pray to it again, don't let me stop you. That's why it's there."

"No, it's just..." I shook my head. "Where did you get it? What's this particular one's story? It used to be used in the east, right?"

The barkeep nodded. "Most of them were originally made in Mistvale. This one came from Garsheeva's temple in Grandbell, the capitol of the Empire. Sarosians weren't as uncomfortable with Garsheeva as griffons and day ponies were with the Night Mother. Garsheeva let them put their statues in the Empire."

"What was it like?" I asked. "I was born in the Empire, but left before I can remember. But you must remember things from before the war. What was it like, being able to talk to the Night Mother?"

The barkeep gave a single, dry chuckle. "Look at where we are now. The Night Mother did nothing good for sarosians. Just led us all to near extinction. Who knows how many more generations until nature finishes what she started?" She shook her head. "You're better off not remembering, kid. She seduced ponies. Helped them feel better for a time. Let them think they had a brighter tomorrow until the day they all died. It was a good dream, until it was over."

I bit my lip, my heart rebelling against that answer. "Is that how you see things when you're older?" I eventually protested. "That the destination is the only thing that matters, and not the journey? Everyone dies sometime or other. Was having a goddess who cared about you really so bad, when you look at the whole entire picture?"

"Everyone does die," the barkeep told me. "And new ponies are born to replace them... unless they aren't. Individual ponies might be mortal, but this race as a whole didn't need to be."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"Live your life," the barkeep urged. "You've still got it. Start a family, or don't. Think about what you want for your descendants, or your friends' descendants, and their descendants after them. And ask yourself if a comforting voice in your ear, and their ears, is worth it if it means that someday, that line will end."

I shrank back a little, wanting to be defiant but with no idea how to do it. Even Mother didn't sound like that. She at least had me, I realized; she knew that even if she had given everything she had to give, she had done it for me, and I had a chance to live my life because of it. This mare... had lost everything, hadn't she?

"My, my," a new voice announced. "Discussing philosophy? Without me?"

I blinked, then scowled in realization. It was Papyrus.

"Rude," the pegasus said, marching up and putting a patronizing wing around my back. "Also probably wise, but that's neither here nor there. How are you holding up against this old crone's nihilism, Butterfly?"

I partially shadow snuck, making myself slippery and folding into the stool to get out from under his wing. "You two know each other?"

Papyrus leaned on the counter, swiping my abandoned drink and taking a swig for himself. "Ol' Barkeep and I go way back. We were debating the nature of good and evil before the very cosmos were formed. Weren't we, you persnickety hag?"

The barkeep - whom I now remembered was just called Barkeep - sighed and went back to polishing glasses.

"Figured you'd show up," Corsica grunted, keeping her own drink safely in her aura. "We're going on an adventure. Might be dangerous. Want in?"

Papyrus's eyes twinkled. "Almost as much as I want to hear what brought on this discussion I just crashed. Someone got her talking about the Night Mother and the near-extinction of a fluffy little race, didn't they?"

"And what if I did?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're even younger than I am. There's no way you remember what the east was like before the way."

Papyrus gave me a suspicious look that slowly morphed into concern.

"What?" I asked when he didn't say anything.

He took a breath, then sighed. "Butterfly, I legitimately can't tell if you're pulling my leg or have well and truly forgotten that the whole reason we became friends in the first place is because I'm a knowledgeable expert on all things Griffon Empire. In fact, the last time we met I bullied you into letting me join a raiding party to the old Flame District, which you did to butter me up so I'd let you pick my sizable brain about the subject. A reward which you have yet to come and claim."

I felt my cheeks start to turn red.

"You did forget!" Papyrus brightened with glee. "Amazing! What a rube! Butterfly, have I ever mentioned that I really, really like you?" He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "We should hang out."

"Put a sock in it," I protested, squirming away, legitimately upset with myself for forgetting a thing like that. "My life is busy, okay? What are you even doing here?"

"Waiting for you to pick your poison, for one," Papyrus said, finishing off my drink in a single gulp. "Philosophical discussions or adventures in the making? Easiest way to make me forget about one is to offer an invitation to the other..." His tail flicked eagerly, like a cat.

"It's a rescue mission." Corsica stood up, finishing her drink as well and pushing her glass back down the counter. "Back room. Details are private."

Papyrus curiously followed along, leaving me to begrudgingly bring up the rear. "Another one, eh?" he said as we slipped into the back hallway. "I'm not sure how you'll top breaking a member of the Empire's most influential assassin trio out of an underground mad scientist lair, but consider my curiosity in your tender hooves."

"Don't think you wanna know how tender these are," Corsica threatened, tapping her shoes against the worn wooden floor for emphasis. "And believe it or not, that's exactly what we'll be doing."

I had filled Corsica in on the rough details for my plan and how we would be pulling it off, including working the teleporters, making the windigoes cooperate, settling any differences we had with Jamjars, climbing the Trench of Greg, finding Mother and getting ourselves back to Ironridge, adapting to new circumstances on the fly as they arose. And now Corsica gave those details to Papyrus, during which he listened curiously and eagerly.

"Now that's my kind of plan," he said when she was finally finished, his eyes glowing rapturously. "Another real, legitimate former acquaintance of High Prince Gazelle? Here's the deal, ladies: play along for half a second when I try to dupe her, and your endeavor shall have my loyal, unflinching support."

I gave him an incredulous look, though by this point I shouldn't have been surprised. "You'll help us hijack a teleporter, persuade a windigo, climb a mountain, get past anything that might have changed, and deal with everything that will inevitably go wrong at every step of the plan all for a chance to introduce yourself as the Empire's old prince, whom you just so happen to resemble, to someone who used to know him."

Papyrus shrugged. "And you wouldn't? It ain't healthy to have no goals in life, kiddos."

"We're both older than you," Corsica told him. "I'll take that as you're in, then?"

Papyrus winked. "So far in that if I went any further, I'd be coming out the other side. Now who else is joining this shindig? Something tells me Unless will be ticked if I go and have all the fun without her."

"Gross," Corsica muttered under her breath.

"Well, we were coming out to Fort Starlight to look for her," I said. "Egdelwonk told me she'd be here. After that, I want to invite Leitmotif and maybe Coda. You know who she is, right?"

"That little filly who talks big and thinks she's a goddess?" Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Fair warning, she's not wrong. And gods have an annoying habit of always getting their way, with the sole exception of when they run into a bigger and badder god. You put her on the stage, and you can kiss any agency you had in the situation goodbye."

I blinked. "That's kind of the point. We're tangling with the powers that be, here. There's nothing physical any of us can do to a windigo; it's just a words game to convince them to play along with us. With Coda on our side, we might have more options, not less."

Papyrus lazily cracked his neck. "Simple thoughts for simple ponies, I suppose. Gods don't join your side; they define their own sides. So unless you're secretly even bigger and badder than she is, you either join her side or pray she doesn't come to the table."

I hesitated, feeling a chill. "By that logic, maybe I am bigger and badder than she is," I told him. "Because she legitimately trusts me."

Papyrus looked deeply intrigued. "You really think that, do you? In that case, invite her along. I'm curious to see where this goes. As they say, seeing is believing."

"How should we do this?" Corsica asked. "Split up? Hallie finds Corsica and Leitmotif, Papyrus finds Unless, I stay here, and we meet back up here when we're finished?"

"Vetoed, because you're lazy and so am I," Papyrus drawled. "At the very least, I want to watch Butterfly petitioning Coda with my own eyes."

"Fine," Corsica sighed. "Work me to the bone, why don't you. Let's get this over with..."





"You wanna do what now?" Admiral Valey gave us a suspicious look, lounging behind her desk, across from the three of us in the middle of the room.

"A humble expedition to an insignificant colony you have no history with whatsoever, your mareness," Papyrus said, head lowered in a mockingly deep bow. "We request a goon squad to use as cannon fodder. Or, barring that, a single someone more familiar with the terrain and competent enough to keep up."

"Unless has history with Icereach?" I whispered. I felt like I would know if Icereach had any pegasi, so this must have been a long time ago...

"You can say that," Valey said, apparently not only hearing me but failing to recognize I was trying to be stealthy in the first place. "We both kinda do, actually. It's how I know her. And the short answer is: not really feelin' up to it right now. Sorry."

I raised an eyebrow. "You speak for both yourself and her, then?"

Actually, had I known Valey had a history with Icereach, either? I felt like someone had told me...

"Maybe you haven't heard this story," Valey said, folding her forelegs and leaning forward. "But your mom and her sisters once did me seriously dirty. And when someone does you this dirty, there's different levels of over it one can really be. For example, I don't hate their blood and everything to do with it, as evidenced by the fact that you're standing here in my fort and I'm giving you some good faith good advice, and have been looking out for you and even taking some risks on your behalf in secret for a while now. I even knew Elise and signed off on it when she took you and your mom to Icereach. However, I'm maybe not quite so over it that I'm jumping at the chance to send my loyal employees into danger in a place I don't like and they don't like either when I'm not even convinced there's anything to be done. Unless works for both me and Egdelwonk, and Cold Karma might have you forgetting that this is normal, but bananas, I care about my employees."

"What do you mean there's nothing to be done?" I asked. "There's... I mean... You know how things are likely to be in the future, right? Between Yakyakistan and Ironridge?"

Valey shrugged. "Whatever information you think you have, odds are ten to one I was the primary source. What of it?"

"Icereach is gonna close its doors," I said, stepping up and putting my forehooves on her desk. "Yakyakistan and Ironridge are gonna start fighting. The shipping route between them is gonna disappear and it'll turn into contested airspace and there'll be no way in or out. Either I get Mother out or I don't see her again until... however long this lasts, if it's over within my lifetime. I know less about world history than I'd like, but I know there's always a war somewhere."

Valey met my eyes. "No way in or out, huh? What about the way you're proposing right now?"

I blinked. The teleporters wouldn't be affected by air travel, would they...

"I just don't want to leave her behind," I whispered. "Please. We're gonna be leaving Ironridge soon, me and my friends. I wanna take the things that matter to me with me. And not leave them laying in my wake like a trail."

For a moment, Valey watched me. And then she stood up and nodded at Papyrus and Corsica. "You two clowns got anything to add? If not, I'd like a word alone with Halcyon here."

Papyrus made a wing gesture I didn't recognize and turned to leave, coupled with a smug smirk. Valey threw a wadded-up paper ball at him.

Corsica hesitated, looked like she was about to say something... and then said, "Fine. We'll be down below."

Valey waited a moment after they were gone. "So." She turned to me. "You just said you wanna travel, run away, and take everything that matters along with you."

I nodded. "That's the plan."

"What about everything that matters to the ponies who join you?" she asked, serious.

I hesitated. "Well, Mother never does much anyway, and I think Corsica's happy to come..."

Valey didn't let me escape her gaze. "So you'd like to live in a perfectly-insulated, tiny community that's portable because it's completely and totally separated from the rest of the world."

"Well, we don't have to be completely separated," I protested, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "Just, I don't wanna stay in Ironridge. I know there's a better life out there somewhere else in the world, waiting for me to find it. What's so wrong with wanting my friends to come along on the ride? Especially if the alternative is getting locked away in Icereach forever?"

"...'Cuz I've been there," Valey said, still not looking away. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to protect your friends. It's admirable, and I do think being confined to Icereach forever and ever would be a pretty lousy life. But a mindset like that is gonna make it become a pattern. Nothing is perfect, kid. Sure, some lives are better than others, but the easier you make it to drift around, the easier it will be to leave when the going gets tough. And the more you get used to doing that, the less it'll take to make you reroll the dice and move on to the next place. We need things tying us to our homes so that when we're tempted to leave, it's not always an easy choice. And maybe sometimes you'll still make that choice, but it needs to be a hard choice so that you don't always choose the same way."

My backwards ears fell. "What are you saying? That it's pointless to keep looking because I'll never find somewhere good enough? That even though the world is massive, there are no good places at all out there to find?"

Valey shook her head. "There's plenty of good places. The problem is that the easier you make it to keep looking, the higher your standards will be because the less you lose from trying again. Wanting to help your mom is noble, and if I was in your position, I wouldn't be happy with my lot in Ironridge either. And that's why I'm not trying to stop you from going to Icereach, or your plan to leave the city. It's your mindset that worries me, because it looks super familiar and I've seen where it can take someone."

"You and your friends, when you traveled with Jamjars and Gerardo and Starlight," I guessed.

"Bingo." Valey got out of her chair and walked over to one of the many paintings on the walls, pointing to each pony one by one. "Maple. Riverfall mare, big idealist and serial gambler. She had a troubled past, you see - depression, and stuff. And the way she would face each morning was by telling herself that good things could happen. And then she'd take risks, on the off chance that they'd pay off and remind her that her worldview was correct. Also a great chef, and one of the most gentle souls I've ever met. But, she was too gentle. One day, some bad stuff went down that she couldn't live with, and she decided to gamble on going elsewhere. Not that she should have had to live with it, mind you. It was pretty bad. Just... not everyone gets the choice to run when they need it. And once she ran the first time, it was always easier to stick with her friends whenever they moved on, too."

She moved on. "Harshwater. First time I met her, she was a mercenary someone hired to kill me. Second... Nah, third time I met her, she was stranded out in Mistvale with a bunch of castaways. She had a crush on her old boss, who was a cad, and it made her easy to manipulate. Pretty sure I saved her life, like... three times that night? Used to be a lively lass, but after that she couldn't trust anyone, and so she glued herself to the status quo. Which, by the time we were back in civilization, meant following us."

She turned away from the paintings. "Every one of us had stories, and I could tell them all night. But the important part was, we were running from ourselves as much as we were running toward a home, and all of us either had a pretty damaged idea of what a home was supposed to be, or had never known one in the first place. You wanna wander because you don't think this place is good enough, and you left Icereach because it wasn't good enough either. But do you know what the thing you're looking for looks like? Because if you don't, you will wander and wander and wander and pass up chance after chance to settle down and be happy."

I wasn't even sure if this conversation was about me anymore. "Are you... talking about me?" I asked. "Or about your own story?"

"Both," Valey said. "I'm giving you a warning about what could be in your future. In a vacuum, wanting to get your mom out of Icereach is noble. In a vacuum, not wanting anything to do with Ironridge is smart. I just wanna make sure that you are doing these because you've thought heavily about each of them, and not just because of inertia."

I swallowed. "I don't have any inertia. I just... What about Gerardo? Doesn't he fly around and carry his home with him?"

Valey shook her head. "He's a special case. Birdo's not looking for a home, see; his home is the road. It works out for him. But, it doesn't work for everyone."

I looked away.

"Anyway, thanks for listening to my spiel," Valey said, sitting back down in her chair. "I just don't wanna see other ponies repeat the lessons I learned the hard way. You're serious about going back to Icereach, here?"

"Yes," I insisted, straightening my posture. "Whatever else, I need some time to decide how I wanna do things, and I'm not going to get it if I'm worrying about Mother. I know Icereach might just close off their borders, but she isn't a native, and there's always the possibility..."

"Yeah, there's always a possibility of a lot of stuff happening." Valey stretched. "Good luck out there. And, uh..." She opened a drawer, fished around in it with a hoof, and pulled out a pattern card. "Here."

"What's this?" I took it, tilting my head.

Valey nodded. "A teleport point to a clearing just north of the fort. We keep it pretty heavily secured, just in case. You know... if for any reason you're trying to teleport out of there and want to go not to Jamjars' house, but somewhere with friends to back you up in a fight."

I pocketed it gratefully. "Good idea. Thanks."

"Eh, don't mention it." Valey rubbed the back of her head. "When you've been at it this long, you learn how to predict where things are gonna go wrong. Have fun in Icereach. Bananas, I wouldn't wanna be there too."

"Thanks," I repeated, taking my leave. Well, we weren't getting Unless, but at least I had what I hoped amounted to Valey's vote of confidence. And a very heartfelt warning I wasn't sure I understood.





The teleporter in Fort Starlight, I was thrilled to learn, wasn't hard-wired to the Gates to the Underworld. And after a little persuading from Papyrus, the ponies operating it were only too happy to send us directly to Dead Herman instead.

After the familiar, unwelcome sensation of being turned into a slinky and walked down a flight of stairs, we were in an empty shack looking out on the all-night every-night carnival of Dead Herman, live saxophone jazz playing in the background and colored lights strung between every awning. I led the way to the lift, up into the ruined skyport, and through the elevated tunnels to the old airship concourse where Coda moored every night.

The ship was here, and it looked busy.

I was instantly recognized at the boarding ramp, the two cultists at the entrance eyeing me with expressions that were none too thrilled. My reputation around here had probably taken a hit after I stole their boss away for a night on the town, though as long as Coda had anything to say about it, I would still be a guest of honor, begrudgingly or not.

Papyrus surveyed the situation, and clearly thought something was funny, though whatever it was, he didn't spit it out.

Barely had I entered the airship's lobby, ponies taking up every lounge table and chair, than Coda appeared to greet me. "Princess Halcyon the Garbed!" she declared, waddling out from the throne room with eyes eager and head held high. "Long was my slumber and dull were my dreams, but I knew you would return 'ere the sun graced the sky!"

Papyrus stifled a laugh with his wing. "Princess Halcyon? Garsheeva's breath, you really do have her number?"

Coda gave him a suspicious look. "This loud one is quite odd. What about your princess's presence do you find so amusing, churl?"

Papyrus leaned against a wall and whistled far too innocently.

Coda stared at him in consternation. Apparently neither of them noticed that we were rapidly being surrounded by clergy.

"Your highness," a stallion whispered in Coda's ear. "The prayers of the faithful-"

"Are being earnestly offered and shall be earnestly received, you predictable pony, you," Coda chided, cutting him off. "Halcyon, know you this creature?" She pointed a hoof at Papyrus. "I fear he is unaware he is in the presence of divinity."

"Yeah, he's pretty dense," I agreed without missing a beat. "Any chance you've got a moment to talk? I wanna hit you up with an idea."

Coda's eyes glowed. "Does it perchance involve a repeat of our-"

"Your highness," a cleric urged, interrupting. "Remember, this is the mare who tempted you to abandon your-"

"Rudeness!" Coda glared at her. "Do not presume to interrupt your goddess, O faithful of mine! This is Princess Halcyon the Garbed, and your goddess demands she be afforded the respect that befits her station. 'Tis unlovely to do otherwise. Don't you agree, servant of love?"

While Coda was arguing, an elderly stallion drew up beside me, wearing the ornamentation of the cult. "Ma'am," he muttered in my ear, "the Princess appreciates the company your shoulder has provided, but-"

"But what?" Coda was there, patiently watching him. "Your goddess knows your thoughts. She knows how you meant to finish that sentence. And, in her mercy, she grants you a chance to rewrite it in a way that does not presume to know her mind as she knows yours."

I didn't need goddess powers to read that emotions in the room were getting high, particularly Coda's. It was clear she had received a talking-to since I ran off with her, and it was clear she hadn't agreed with what her clergy had to say.

The civilians in the room didn't need powers, either. One by one, then group by group, they began to pack their bags and file out as Coda stared down her clergy, oblivious to her disappearing clientele.

No one spoke, though I could tell Papyrus was sorely tempted to stoke the flames.

Suddenly, Coda noticed the exodus. "Oops!" She grinned. "It would seem my loyal revelers have decided we're closing up shop early for the night. Well, your ever-humble princess is not one to refuse the will of the people, so it seems we are done for the night, yes? All of you, take a vacation! Your princess commands it! Then it will only be fair when she does so as well, heehee!"

She glommed onto my side, and stared at the clergy with an expression that dared them to disagree.

Most of the clergy watched me with a gaze that told me there was a right choice, here, and a wrong choice. And they had a different idea of it than Coda.

I swallowed. It might be possible to get away with Coda one more time, but that would just make things even worse later, and this needed to be cleared up now. "You guys know that staying here all the time isn't what she wants, right?"

"The essence of service is to put the needs of others before your own wants," said an older stallion who elected himself to speak for the group. "This is a value Princess Coda has long understood. She has lived her life by it for years, up until you came here."

"Having social contact with ponies and living outside a bubble isn't a want," I told him. "It's a need. You can't just live a fulfilling life up here on an airship with no ties to the... world..."

My train of thought flashed back to Valey, vividly enough that I could swear I was right there, right now. "So you'd like to live in a perfectly-insulated, tiny community that's portable because it's completely and totally separated from the rest of the world."

"Who are you to say that when we have done so for two long decades?" the stallion countered.

"So have I!" I protested, taking a step forward. "You guys are old. Maybe you chose this life for a reason, but you remember stuff from before it. Well, I didn't! I grew up in a cloistered bunker that sheltered itself from the truth and the world at large, and I stepped out to see the world because I needed more than I had back there. And Coda's the same. That's why she likes me: because we're similar enough to understand each other, except I've done and am in the middle of doing everything she wants to do."

"What Princess Coda wants is the destruction of her wicked nemesis," a different cultist said. "She wanted this ever since the beginning. You are not trying to give her what she wants, but change it!"

I adamantly shook my head. "If changing your entire life's goal is as easy as seeing one pony doing one new thing and deciding you want to do that too, maybe it deserves to be changed. Did Coda decide to fight her mother with you because she explored all the options available to her, and then decided this was her true calling? Or did you only give her one option to explore?"

"To control such impulses is the function of self-restraint," another cultist argued, a pleading tone in their voice. "Our higher calling would not be noble if it was easy!"

"Would it?" I stared at them. "Does just being difficult make it noble? Trying to stop Chrysalis is good. I don't like her either. But Coda is a kid. Kids are supposed to spend their foalhood imagining and experimenting with all the different things they could grow up to be. I know this because it's something I never got to do, and my life is emptier for it! It's nice that you all have self-restraint, but you're restraining her, too!"

The very air felt like it could crack. "I know you feel like you're doing good, and fighting Chrysalis is good," I insisted. "But if I'm really leading Coda astray, then answer this. If it's so easy for me to tempt her into breaking your rules, how's she gonna make it through any tough decisions when it's time to fight her mother? What's she gonna do if Chrysalis asks her to join up and offers her freedom?"

Coda herself blanched, but as the cultists nervously shuffled, I began to wonder if I was getting across my point.

"That's because Coda is still young," one eventually said. "She hasn't yet had time to become firm enough in her convictions to test them against the world. They will crumble if she moves too early."

I stared at them. "She's the same age as me, no? Nineteen? If that's the case, explain me."

"I am not some delicate thing," Coda said from my side, speaking for the first time since the argument had started properly. "Am I? Or are all your supplications and professions of my strength merely lies you desire I hear enough to come to believe?"

"Princess, it is our duty to mold you..." A younger cleric bowed her head. "Our holy calling to deliver you to your faith, and your faith to you."

Someone cleared their throat, and I turned to look. It was Papyrus.

"You know..." he said, strolling forward. "Say I'm jumping to conclusions, but I recall a fascinating story from the final days of the Empire about a changeling queen who never got any say in how she got to live her life, who subsequently exploded in pent-up rage. Now, not that a lowly nobody like me who was far away from all that nastiness would ever presume to point hooves and say who might have been responsible for such tragic events. It's just, one potential thing taking responsibility might look like is to learn from one's mistakes."

The clergy, who had been too focused on me and Coda so far to pay him much notice, suddenly acknowledged him as one, stares of disbelief and occasional terror flickering across their faces. "You," one whispered.

"Me?" Papyrus blinked. "Oh! Right! Silly me, I got so caught up in this little family feud I forgot to even do the joke. No, I'm not Gazelle, I just look like him. Papyrus of Riverfall, at your service." He bowed theatrically low.

"P-Perhaps..." Coda's voice shook, and she took a breath. "Your goddess's clergy might leave it to her to determine the course of her future, trust her to find the best path to her calling, and give her the final say on matters such as these."

"...Princess." Slowly, the clergy started to bow, more and more of them joining in until they were all kneeling.

"I know my divine duty," Coda proclaimed. "And I tell you the truth; I would not have agreed to accompany Halcyon to the city had she not convinced me it would in fact bolster my preparation to face off against the fell Chrysalis. How can I be expected to do battle in a world I know nothing of, she asked me? And so I shall learn. Fear not, my subjects. Your princess... will not abandon you. But she proclaims herself ready to see the surface world."

"Then go." The head priest gritted his teeth. "...Take good care of our Princess."

I nodded as sincerely as I could. "You can bet on it."

And then we turned, and no one stopped us from taking our leave.





"Well," Coda said once we were back in the skyport proper. "That was most unnerving. And some mildly awe-inspiring wordplay from you, Princess Halcyon. In truth, I had talked to them many times since our last adventure, and was never able to muster my convictions with such strength."

"That's 'cuz you haven't lived enough yet to know what your convictions are," I encouraged, putting her down and patting her head.

She smiled at me. "How fortunate that you are here to remedy that. You are here to take me on another adventure, correct?"

I took a deep breath, praying that getting Coda involved in this mission was as good of an idea as it sounded. "Kiddo, you have no idea."