//------------------------------// // ERE 1: Tribus Amore // Story: Odd's Oubliette: Otherwise Obsolete Oddities // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// Where the Lord of Chaos fell laughing, the ponies of Equestria rose cheering. For most ponies, there was no time to quarrel over a power vacuum: the wake of the Lord’s reign was awash with cries for harmony across the land. The pegasi and earth ponies were quick to pledge their allegiance to the Two Sisters: the pegasi were ecstatic to regain control of the sky, and the earth ponies were ready to refresh the kingdom’s food stores. The unicorns of Canterlot, in spite of their nobles’ reluctance, bowed when the alicorn heroes ascended the Canterhorn. Much to the dismay of the unicorn nobility, the new princesses moved the Equestrian capital from Canterlot. To drive the stake further, the roads to the new seats of power had been laid in wild, untapped lands: the Two Sisters had ordered the immediate construction of a castle far below the Canterhorn peaks, founded between the wandering cloud city, and the eastern farming villages. The newly named ‘Everfree Forest’ was hardly a unicorn’s first choice of a home. What defiance remained in the noble unicorn houses evaporated swiftly: they learned to not draw the ire of the most magically and politically powerful unicorn of all time. Even House Platinum—the proudest of all houses—sought amnesty with the Two Sisters’ closest courtier through their most sacred gift: an honorific. A soft titter prickled the ears of all those present in the royal quarter. “‘The Bearded?’” “Tempting, isn’t it? I could defend my facial acuity through name alone!” “Starswirl, you have to take care of your appearance,” the pearl-white alicorn chided as she slipped into another golden hoof-shoe. She cast a beaming smile to the two ponies prostrate before her, now unburdened by royal regalia. “Thank you, dears.” “Care?” The bells attached to Starswirl’s cloak and hat twinkled as he shifted into a gruff laugh. “That was hardly an issue for you, Celestia.” She turned her smile to Starswirl. “Yes, well, Luna and I weren’t princesses, then. And we were more concerned with our studies.” The old unicorn’s brows furrowed. “And you should still be concerned.” “Of course, Starswirl.” From the side, a pony cleared their throat. “If I may?” With a sigh, Starswirl waved a hoof. The chocolate-taupe pony, clutching a scroll to their chest, made an awkward half-bow. “Your Majesty, the emissary from the south arrived this morning. She’s waiting for you.” “And the caravan?” “They were with her, Your Majesty.” “Wonderful.” The crowded levee followed after the princess as she stepped out of her quarter, and into the marbled hall. “Would you kindly see to Logistician Song? I fear that the poor dear might be overwhelmed. You may leave your report in my cabinet.” With a broad smile, the pony craned their neck and gave a full, deep bow. “Of course. Thank you, Princess.” “My thanks to you, dear Glass.” Glass made off with a hurried pace. His departure did little to ease the crowd’s numbers; another pony cut in beside the princess. “Mister Potts!” Celestia broached with surprise. “Are you well?” Baggy-eyed, the wrinkled white unicorn laughed with a shake of his head. “Well enough, Your Highness. Princess Luna and the rest of company arrived just after midnight. They insisted on having everything from Canterlot arranged before morning light.” Starswirl crept up from behind. “And where is Princess Luna now?” His brash tone spooked the collared secretary. Potts recovered quickly. “I believe she retired to her study,” he glared at Starswirl, “Chamberlain.” His ear flicked in recognition. “That’s Starswirl the Bearded to you.” Celestia’s horn lit, shaking apart the unicorns’ sour words. The double doors before the ponies swung heavily, even under the push of magic from the princess. Celestia’s wide white wings crept out as she stepped out into the light breeze of twilight. Smiling lightly, she ascended the steps to the raised dais. At the top of the dais, she stood alone, just barely above the tallest trees of the Everfree. Behind the princess, the ponies quietly filtered out to either side of the northern-facing balcony below the dais. It was a wordless moment, as it always was. With her horn lit by golden swirls, and her wings gracefully braced, Princess Celestia rose to the sky. The moon in the west was sent to rest; the princess’ heavenward magic brought the sun over the eastern horizon, casting twilight away and bringing about dawn. All the while, the scattering rays of dying light and rising dawn glimmered off the brilliant form of the princess; her rainbow-hued ethereal mane and tail caught the light with a myriad of color, while her pristine coat sent great beams of sunlight streaming upon the dais. The ponies in the crowd below muttered mute prayers as the princess of the sun descended. Her shielded hooves clasped against the ground with a set of mute clinks. Celestia made her way back down the steps, her wings still held aloft. The ponies made way for her. Her wings folded gently as she stepped back into the castle proper, and the crowd followed after. The doors were pulled shut by two servants, and the wooden thuds echoed down the lacquered halls. Inside, the ponies gave way to regular conversation; it was as if the cloud of quiet squeezing them had been lost to the Everfree. From there, many of the ponies separated from the crowd; there were many nooks and crannies for the members of the royal court to disappear to. There was always work to do in the busy months since the start of Equestria’s recovery, especially in the virgin heart of the reborn kingdom. Potts, looking much more alive than before, gave another half-bow as the princess and the remaining ponies pressed on. “Your Highness, please extend my utmost thanks to Princess Luna. Her Highness worked tirelessly to ensure our work would be complete.” There was a small pause before Celestia responded. “Thank you, Mister Potts. She will be happy to hear such high praise sung by you.” The unicorn gave a hushed thanks, and slipped away to find his own nook. Several more ponies stepped up to speak with the princess, but most were courtiers and servants with no urgent matters to bring forth. Eventually, the crowd thinned out to just four ponies: two pegasi in polished silver armor, Starswirl, and the princess. Starswirl cracked the silence. “Celestia?” Her swan-like neck craned down to her companion. “Yes?” “That was a very good cast today. Minor waste. Well done.” A tender smile slipped across Celestia’s lips, and she bowed her head. “Thank you.” “But you need to cut down on the light show. Fix your spillways.” The stony-faced wizard turned to face her. “You’re trying to raise the sun, not blind Equestria.” Shaking her head, Celestia turned back forward, still smiling. “You never change, Starswirl.” She heard him chuckle. “I’d hope not.” They came to the crest of their journey at a pair of brown, oak doors: the cabinets of the Two Sisters, situated just behind the throne room. To the sides of the left-most door, two more armored pegasi stood guard. They bowed to Celestia and Starswirl, and opened the door. Celestia and Starswirl, alone, entered the occupied room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the first sleepy nicker washed over them. Starswirl almost broke out, but Celestia had cuffed him with a wing before he’d spat a single word. “She’s earned this,” she whispered. Grumbling, Starswirl used a hoof to push her wing out of his way. The cabinet room was disturbingly vacant of furnishings, but it was to be expected of an office that had never been used until mere hours before the two ponies’ arrival. Celestia’s hooves made no sound against the carpeted floor as she made her way to the lonely desk, and the lonely pony slouched over it. Starswirl followed after, his face set into a frown. The dark blue alicorn draped across the desk was far from regal; her crown had been haphazardly thrown across the desk, and likely through no fault of her own. The passed out pony was snoozing quite comfortably over an unfinished scroll. To the left of her idle hooves, a bundle of wrapped and sealed scrolls sat neatly stacked. To the right, fresh scrolls and un-stoppered ink pots lay in waiting. Celestia plucked the ink-dried quill and ruined scroll from beneath the sleeping alicorn with a flash of magic. She set them aside as she made her way around the desk. She knelt down beside the cushion where the alicorn sat, and tipped her muzzle toward Luna’s ear. “Little sister…” In an instant, the smaller alicorn’s head began to rise. Luna turned and nuzzled into the crook of her sister’s neck, and Celestia returned the gesture. “Sister,” Luna murmured. Pulling back from one another, Luna let her suppressed yawn free, and cracked her eyes open. She blinked blearily, until her vision cleared; her gaze landed on the bearded unicorn stood by the room’s entrance. “Ah. Starswirl…” Starswirl grunted. The alicorn’s ears flopped against her head. She turned to Celestia, her azure eyes brimming with light. “I’m so sorry.” Celestia took a breath, and came to rest her haunches beside her sister. “Did you at least fulfill your duties, Luna?” “Of course, sister.” Breaking her frown, a smile made its way onto Luna’s face as her sister’s wing crept behind her. “I shall always find time for our subjects.” “I’m glad,” Celestia whispered. “But you worry me, sister. Always.” She rested her muzzle on one of Luna’s withers. Luna had little chance to soak in her sister’s physical affection: her attention flicked to Starswirl, who had also rounded the desk. He stood behind Celestia and cleared his throat. Celestia lifted her head and turned to address him. “Starswirl...” she cautioned. He pointedly looked past her. “Luna.” The sullen alicorn peered at him from beneath her looming sister’s neck. “You are a princess, not a scribe. It’s beneath you to do their work, especially when it gets in the way of protecting Equestria.” Luna swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Starswirl.” “Regardless,” Celestia nudged Luna with her snout, prompting her to look up again. “Ink Potts was very thankful for your help. And from the looks of things,” their shared attention came to the desk of scrolls and ink, “he was right to thank you.” “I sought only to aid.” Luna tucked her head in a bow. “’Twas no trouble. Nay, my work was unhindered.” “And yet, you still fell asleep,” Starswirl interjected. “I’m beginning to wonder if your dream-walking is as strenuous as you claim it to be, or if you’re merely fond of naps.” “’Tis true!” Starswirl rubbed at his beard and turned away. “Whatever the case, we’ll know how things really work when I make a proper spell for dream-walking.” “’Proper?’” Luna sat up. “The nerve thou hath—!” Celestia tugged at her sister with her extended wing. “Luna.” The agitated pony settled back down. “Starswirl, you know how difficult it’s been for her. We’re very lucky that she learned how to ease the nightmares.” “Celestia, it’s been difficult for everypony. At some point, we have to stop blaming Discord.” Starswirl sighed. “This kingdom is depending on us. What we do, and how we act, affects Equestria as a whole.” “That’s why I trust you Starswirl.” Luna licked her lips. “And I as well.” The stallion came about, and looked between the Two Sisters. His voice softened. “Equestria needs your trust more than I do.” He squeezed his eyes shut, took a breath, and tapped the floor. He opened his eyes. “And Equestria needs our best. That is all I want.” “Starswirl…” “Take your time,” he interrupted. “I’ll be waiting.” His gaze swept to Luna. “And I expect you to be well-rested tonight.” The Two Sisters watched as Starswirl made his way to the door. He spared no glance as he pulled it open with a hoof. It shut without a sound. “He is most displeased with me.” “No, he is not, Lulu.” Unwittingly, Celestia had slumped, relaxed; she lightly pried herself from her sister. “Starswirl is just… stressed.” “Were that the case, I would be well-awares. And his letters showed no such signs.” “He’s gotten better at hiding it in recent years.” “Then one would conclude that he is hiding his displeasure with our progress.” “It’s not like that.” “Then ‘tis ‘like’ what, Tia?” Luna made a morose, choked sound as her sister’s wing tightened around her. “Our mentor has seemingly forgotten to reward our trust with his own.” “Starswirl does trust us. He wouldn’t have entrusted us with his spells if he didn’t.” It was a long moment before Luna answered, her cheeks tear-dried, and her voice low. “Mayhaps our teacher hath been using us for thy own behoof.” “Luna!” Celestia whispered, her face and tone aghast. “How could you say such a thing?” “’Tis simple,” Luna bitterly replied. “One unicorn, learn two ‘alicorns’ to stroke thine ego. ‘Behold, Canterlot!’” She struck a hoof out into the air. “’Tamed! Anon, avaunt thee! Fly tantivy!’” The hoof cracked down against the desk. “’Tis simple, to be the fell of the unicorn king Starswirl.” Celestia swept a hoof over her sister’s cheek. “Lulu…” “Nay, show no heart to this beast,” Luna croaked. Her head came coasting down to rest against the desk. “Forsooth, it has no fertile mind.” The sunken alicorn, cowled by the sun, sobbed. “I am but wasted breath, sister. Life for naught.” The white alicorn draped herself over her sister. “What did you hear in Canterlot, Luna?” Luna bristled, then made a feeble effort to shirk her sister’s touch. “Enough.” Celestia said nothing. Luna sniffled. “Am I worthy of your heart?” As the words left her mouth, behind her ear, Celestia placed a lithe kiss. “I love you, little sister.” The smaller alicorn tried to press her muzzle into the desk, but she could go no further. “I do not feel worthy.” “You worry so much. Let me worry for you.” “But you always have.” “Because you need to focus on this.” Celestia pressed a hoof to her sister’s breast. Luna curled her hoof around her sister’s. “Don’t fret for mine. Knowing that you are loved is enough for me.” Luna tilted her head down. “…I… I should know better.” “It’s not your fault, Luna. We are not perfect.” She lifted her sister’s snout with a hoof. She peered at Luna with tender eyes. “Especially not I.” They bumped against one another again. “You did well today, Luna. Please, go rest.” “…Very well.” They both stood, and Luna spared one more hug to her sister. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Luna donned her set-aside crown. She trot to the door, leaving her sister in her stead. She gave Celestia a look. “Good day, sister,” she murmured. With her magic, she cast the door open in a hue of blue, and stepped out of the study. Again, it shut without sound. Celestia finally managed to pull herself from the door; she looked down at the scrolls on the desk, and pulled them into the air with a glow of her magic. They orbited her for a moment, then were each engulfed by flames. The swirling fumes shot hot beneath the door, and from sight. The alicorn dimmed her horn. The room cooled. A sigh filled it. Celestia stepped out into the hall, noted that the guards accompanying her had replaced the ones by the door, and made for her own cabinet. The guards took to their new post, and opened the door for her. Unlike the sense-deprived room she’d stood in before, Celestia’s office brimmed with life. The scents of paper and tea were soaked into every corner and crevice, burnt in through months of work. The walls were lined with various small paintings proffered through happenstance: most had come in the early months of the year as gifts from lobbying courtiers. The largest of the paintings—an oily depiction of the Two Sisters and Starswirl—sat at the back of the room beside a bookshelf filled to the brim. Bright purple, gold-trimmed drapes spotted with yellow suns and moons shadowed the far left corner, where an empty gilded cage sat atop a golden post. Starswirl was sat on a cushion before the room’s desk. He moved as Celestia’s hooves clacked against the hardwood floor. “Where has the bird gone?” She hummed. “Philomena is quite the accomplished explorer.” She strode past him. “I’m sure she’s close.” “Be that as it may, she’s usually here.” He eyed the room suspiciously as Celestia took her spot on the crimson cushion behind the desk. “She knows when we have our meetings. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s retired to my quarter for rest.” His still-set frown deepened. “Domesticated or not, a phoenix is never an un-threat.” Celestia giggled behind a hoof, and Starswirl fixed her with a frown. “It’s no laughing matter.” “Honestly, Starswirl. Philomena is harmless.” “Her little tricks prove that she is far from it.” At Celestia’s innocent look, he shook his head. “I should have never allowed you to keep that egg.” While Starswirl continued searching the room in an attempt to stay his paranoia, Celestia picked up the lone scroll on her desk with her magic. She unraveled the still crisp document. “So. The emissary.” Starswirl raised his eyebrow. “What of them?” Celestia’s focus stayed on the scroll as she spoke. “You’ve met with her before, haven’t you?” “No? I haven’t the slightest—” Starswirl paused. “Oh, her.” “Yes?” “It was a long time ago, Celestia.” “Is that so? With some thought, I believe I remember her, now.” The alicorn lowered the scroll just enough to peek at Starswirl. “It was around the time you completed your amniomorphic spell.” Starswirl slouched. “For the love of… must you keep time for such a fickle affair?” “Fickle? You spent many months working on that spell. Months that included keeping me and Luna in the desert village proper. A lovely village, mind you, but a desert one nonetheless.” Celestia wrapped the scroll back up with its ribbon, and set it aside. “And be kind to yourself, I’m almost certain the pharaoh will have sent gifts produced, in part, by that same spell. I would prepare to be humbled by practitioners of your labor.” Starswirl grumbled. “In any case, yes, I have met her.” He straightened out of his slouch. “Now that you’ve reminded me, I do recall that she is quite a remarkable mare. Yes… a scholar. Days and weeks… the nature of magic. Insights into pegasus magic I’d left unconsidered.” He rubbed at his white beard. “Perhaps I should revisit those old notes of ours…” “Why not speak with your friend?” Starswirl stopped suddenly. “Ah, of course.” He leveled a look with Celestia. “There’s always a planned motion in that mind of yours.” The corners of the alicorn’s mouth tugged upward ever so slightly. “I fear I don’t understand.” “There’s no need to play coy, Celestia. Once again, I must remind you that my work is best performed alone. In fact, I’m certain that my pain to be present here is something you take pleasure in.” Celestia laughed openly. She was quick to bring a hoof to her lips, but the damage had been done; Starswirl’s groan gave life to her laughter. “I’ve had my fill of this.” He looked to the door. “Where are the dallying ponies that allegedly serve this royal court?” Celestia was caught again by his glare as she continued to quell her slippery mirth. “A result of your coddling, no doubt.” “Coddling?” Celestia cried. “Dear, Starswirl,” she smiled through watery eyes as she pressed a fine purple cloth to them, “you’re being more dramatic than Platinum at her finest!” Starswirl’s mouth flopped agape. He had no time to scrape together a response: the door to the office opened, and a flood of ponies poured in. This only fueled the princess’ joyous rancor. They tumbled together, frozen at the sight of the swaying princess. Starswirl was caught in a similar state; his freshly-pried eyes jumped about while the newcomers watched on. Celestia dabbed fiercely at her eyes with her magically-taut cloth. A bright yellow mare spoke, her ears laid back, and her head low. “Shall we return in a moment?” “No, dear! No!” Celestia finally sucked in a breath amid her struggle. “No, Miss Song. You are all quite fine.” She sniffed, and set the cloth aside. “I am so sorry that you all had to see that.” Starswirl, having cast his horror aside, leaned back. “Mister Potts, would you kindly?” The collared stallion grumbled low, and finished closing the door. “Thank you.” Celestia smiled warmly as she rang up a steaming teapot. “We are well on our way, my little ponies.”