//------------------------------// // I love a good backstabbing. (Part Two) // Story: The Tirek Who Tolerated Me // by Kotatsu Neko //------------------------------// “I never liked the parties,” Cozy Glow continued. “It’s not that they were a lot of work; I was used to that, and anyway the caterers would take care of some of the clean up afterwards. But most of the time, day to day, I never saw more than one pony at a time. Suddenly having so many strangers around me made me feel all awkward and anxious. It took me a while to get used to crowds later on. And I wasn’t allowed to talk to anypony, and they all acted like I was invisible. Honestly, I was almost glad when-“ She stopped abruptly. Spy looked up. “What is it?” She avoided his gaze. “…h-hey, this is all probably super boring to somecreature like you, huh? Your life’s so much more interesting, I bet. Full of action and fighting and stuff. You probably don’t want to hear-“ Oh no you don’t. “On the contrary. There’s nothing I’d like to do right now but listen to the rest of your story.” When she hesitated again, he adopted a softer tone. “I’m not here to judge your past, Miss Glow. I just want to understand.” “But… but I bet you’re thinking that this isn’t much of an origin story. It’s just been a bunch of little stuff.” “It might seem little to you. But while I am by no means in a position to judge someone else’s parenting techniques, even I can tell how terrible they were.“ He frowned slightly. “Though to be frank… yes. I’ve been trying to anticipate the end of your tale, but nothing so far would seem to lead you to demanding incarceration.” He gestured broadly at the cavern around them. “Your parents’ abuse was vile, but more for its neglect than out of any viciousness. Then again, I’m not any kind of good judge on that score, either. And you had a roof over your head, and food on the table every day. Where I come from that’s no certain guarantee. Though I suppose I can see how you adjusted so well to the menu, or lack thereof, in Tartarus.” She actually laughed once, sharp and dark as Engineer’s coffee. “Ha! Yeah. I never get hungry, but whenever I start to miss eating I just think about a big bowl of oatmeal, and I suddenly don’t want anything.” Then after a pause, during which she seemed to reach a decision, she dipped her head behind her and retrieved something from the floor of the cage. A glint of metal shone between her teeth. Spy’s eyes widened. “Is that…?” She transferred the object to a hoof. “Tempest’s key,” she confirmed. “…how?” “When you threw her at my cage. It fell out of her uniform and was just dangling in front of me. She didn’t even realize I took it.” Spy recalled the moment vividly. Unicorn and cage were tumbling wildly through the air, the latter’s occupant screaming in panic. To see and seize an opportunity in all that chaos…! She really was astounding. “Anyway,” she said, seeming to have calmed down and regained her courage, “there’s a reason I’ve been telling you all this other stuff.” He quirked a smile. “Are you sure you weren’t just stalling?” “No!” She hesistated, thinking about his question. “I-I mean yes!” The filly glowered at his smirk. “I mean shut up! Up to now, I’ve just been setting the stage. I just wanted to give you some background, in order to make a point.” “Go on.” She approached the padlock to her cage. It had been damaged during the earlier shenanigans, excessively bent and dented. It was also facing away from the cage’s interior, so the filly would need to reach around it with her comparatively short legs. Spy felt he could open it for her easily if Cerberus would move the cage a bit closer to him, but she didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. This wasn’t the right moment. “I could have been anything,” she said quietly, staring at the padlock. He waited. “I could’ve gotten a cutie mark for chess, easily. I loved books, so I could’ve gotten one for reading, or writing, or maybe for being a librarian. I could’ve gotten one for cleaning, or cooking. I could’ve been a cloud sculptress, like my mother wanted. From all the work I did for my father, I could have been a… what’s the word? A paralegal, though I have no idea what kind of mark that would look like. Maybe I could’ve even been a party planner; I helped set up enough of them. The world could have given me a cutie mark for any of these things. Any one of them, and my whole life would have been different.” Then she shook her head and began the awkward process of trying to open a damaged lock, from behind, blind, with hooves. “But that’s not what the world wanted for me. The world had something else in mind…” The Prism had been uncovered, and with specially placed lights directed upon it, cast brilliant refractions around the room, making everything just a bit brighter, shinier, and more opulent. Which was only part of the reason it was there. Simply put, much like her father’s office, the Prism was bait. It had been hoofcrafted by master earth pony artisans, perfected and enchanted by Canterlot-trained unicorns, and transported to Cloudsdale at great expense. It was exceedingly valuable, and Everypony who saw it could easily recognize that fact. Surely, the message it conveyed said, if the ponies who lived here owned something like that, which probably cost hundreds of thousands of bits, they could be trusted with, say, an investment of a few thousand, right? And they clearly knew a thing or two about the finer things in life, so the sculptures on display must be quite reasonably priced! (Of course, these assumptions were entirely wrong, but that was the whole point.) It was the filly’s responsibility to greet guests at the door and, depending on the purpose of their visit, direct them to either the study or the display room. Both were connected to the dining hall, and the guests were to be encouraged to help themselves. And they were more than welcome to mingle and visit the other destination, if the fancy took them. Such cross-pollination was uncommon, but always a welcome surprise. There were roughly three dozen ponies in attendance, which was a good sized crowd. Most of them were unfamiliar to her, and not coincidentally were there to hear her father’s latest investment opportunity. He didn’t get a lot of repeat business, as far as she could tell, but he still seemed to be able to bring in new clients somehow. Conversely, her mother had a group of diehard fans, who were each eager to see and bid on her latest masterpieces, with a few newcomers wanting to see what all the fuss was about. Both groups, the filly would decide later, had only one thing in common: they had far more money than sense, though at least her mother’s customers were getting something semi-tangible out of the deal, overpriced as it may be. When it seemed that the last guest had joined the party (though there was always the possibility of late arrivals), the filly went to the kitchen and loaded up with a tray bearing glasses of fine cider, which she balanced carefully on her head as she returned to the dining hall. (The cart, of course, was not to be used when guests were around.) She patrolled the party unobtrusively, allowing guests to take fresh glasses or deposit empty ones and returning to the kitchen as needed. If there was one thing she liked about the parties, it was that they provided her only link to the outside world. It wasn’t much of a link, admittedly – though the guests liked to chat and gossip, there usually wasn’t much she was interested in, being talk about fine arts or business deals. Lately, though, it had been a bit more interesting than usual. “…bad business, that,” a stallion said. “They say he’s already taken Appleloosa.” “Oh, it’s always one thing or another these days,” replied a mare loftily. “The Princesses will take care of it. They always do.” “I suppose…” Do they, though? She’d heard vague hints of various dire events happening in the lands below, but the piecemeal information the filly had collected suggested there was some other pony, or ponies, who did most of the heavy lifting for the Princesses recently. She moved on as the mare nudged the conversation to less interesting topics. She overheard more comments in a similar vein, though they all remained annoyingly vague. Another crisis of some kind, apparently, though there didn’t seem to be very much concern among the party goers. Maybe they thought they were too rich for it to affect them. She probably wouldn’t find out anything more solid for months, if then. She could blame her parents’ thrift for the lack of newspaper delivery, but honestly none of the homes in the community seemed to get their information in such a plebian way. Once the guests all had a drink in wing, her parents stepped out onto a landing overlooking the foyer, a curved (and completely unnecessary, but architecturally appealing) stairway leading up to it on either side. They were both dressed in their finest outfits, and stood posed in the light of the Prism. They looked amazing together, and even though she had begun to understand that this was just a public mask they wore, she still felt her pride and love toward them growing. They were her parents, and she liked seeing them together. She so seldom got the chance. She flew up to them and provided each with a glass of cider, then backed away. Her father tapped the rim of his glass with a small fork he held in his other wing. The chime thus produced attracted the attention of their guests, who filtered out into the foyer. “My friends,” he said grandly when he had their attention, “welcome to our little function, and thank you for allowing us the opportunity to help enrich your lives. I look forward to helping all of us reach our true potentials.” He smiled down at them, in a way that made each guest think they were being favored individually. "Before we begin," he went on, becoming slightly more somber, "I must mention the manticore in the room. I know you all have concerns about the recent troubles down on the surface. I understand. That sort of thing would leave anypony concerned about the future. Well, let me be the first to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I have it on very good authority that the Princesses have the situation well in hoof, and there's no doubt in my mind this whole problem will just fade away within a week or two. That blundering clod stands no chance against an Equestria united!" The tension immediately left the atmosphere, and most of the crowd began to look more relieved. One exception was a dappled gray stallion near the filly, who snorted doubtfully. Though not too loudly; she was probably the only one who heard it. “Now,” her father continued, “for those who have been here before, you know how this goes. For the rest of you, we’ll be starting my own presentation in twenty minutes, followed by my lovely wife’s unveiling shortly afterwards. You’re more than welcome to-“ The floor suddenly trembled, setting cider to sway in glasses. The assembled ponies looked at each other in mild alarm. Her father chuckled reassuringly. “Just some turbulence, I’m sure,” he said. “I’ll have a word with the weather service in the morning. As I was saying, I invite you all to continue to mingle and enjoy the provided refreshments. They’ll just go to waste otherwise!” A chuckle rose around the filly as she suppressed an unwanted flare of annoyance. Her father treated the mare at his side with a gleaming smile. “Shall we, my dear?” That was part of the mask, too. She returned it, though less proficiently due to little practice. “Of course, darling.” They descended, each taking a different staircase. Not (for once) from any desire to be separated, but because they were each swarmed by guests eager to speak with them. “Dear heart, you simply must tell us where you get your inspiration!” a mare gushed to her mother. “I’ve moved the one I bought last month – you know, the…” Her eyes unfocused slightly. “…the one with… with the circles and the one wobbly-looking thing…” “Ah, my ‘Reflection on Perseverance Amidst Misfortunes’.” The mare brightened suddenly. “That’s it! I’ve moved it to my sun room, and it looks simply amazing! Extremely, you know, persevering.” “So glad you like it,” the filly’s mother said with a slight smile. “Though there’s even better to be had later on…” “…heard all about you from Mister Partner here,” said a fresh faced young pegasus to her father. “He’s given me plenty of good advice, so I thought I’d take a bit more.” “I haven’t gone wrong with any of this stallion’s deals yet,” confirmed the dappled pegasus from earlier in a rumble. “I’m looking forward to whatever he’s got panned now.” The filly recognized the pegasus now. Silent Partner, one of her father’s few repeat customers. Somehow she never got any complaint letters from him, either. He never missed a party, and always brought along one or two new pegasi with him. She usually saw letters from them within a few months. Her father laughed charmingly. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about that later. Anticipation is a spice, my friends! For now, enjoy yourselves! Happy thoughts, everypony!” “…much as we can…” Silent muttered, with a brief glance downward. She’d lingered too long, and her father gave her a meaningful look. The filly hurriedly went back to providing fresh drinks to the guests. It technically wasn’t a particularly taxing chore, but maintaining the tray’s balance in flight was tiring. When all the guests were on their second glass, and when she was sure her mother was occupied, she slipped back into the kitchen for refills and took a moment to sit down and rest her wings. The silence was a relief, and she finally had a chance to think. Happy thoughts. Her father liked that phrase. Happy thoughts made making deals easier, and didn’t cost anything. Happy thoughts were easy enough, but… were they just a mask of her own? Just a surface level seeming? She thought she was truly happy, but her conversation in the park had made her start to wonder. How could she know if she was truly happy? What even was happiness, when you got right down- "You're stalling again." "A-am not!" The room shook, interrupting her train of thought. It was another tremor, stronger this time but not enough to spill any cider, and it was preceded by what sounded like… a rush of wind? It was breezy outside, but not that breezy… Her ears twitched as she noticed a singular tone among the hubbub outside the kitchen door. Her mother’s voice, which she’d gotten very good at picking out. Quickly she loaded up with a fresh tray and hurried out. The mare was just a few hooflengths from the kitchen, and the filly suspected she’d been on her way to find (and scold) her missing daughter before being interrupted by some of her faithful customers. “…yes, of course,” she was saying. “’Dance of the Quizzical Goat’ was from one of my more whimsical periods.” The stallion she was speaking to lit up, as the previous mare had, when the name of his purchase was repeated to him. “Of course there’s been little reason for such lighthearted pieces these days.” “Oh, dear. I hope that hasn’t affected your work.” “Not at all!” she assured him. “In fact, I’ve been feeling quite inspired by the horrible brute. Once the Princesses defeat him, the sculpture I make in honor of their victory will be nothing short of glorious…!” She started to turn back toward the kitchen, and the filly made herself scarce. As she passed through the crowd, she started to notice the tension was rising once more, despite her father's reassurances. Perhaps it was the free food and drink, allowing ponies to speak more frankly with each other. "...besides, how would he even get up here?" "He's teamed up with Discord. Discord could give him wings, or pull all of Cloudsdale to ground level." "Oh, that's... that's an exaggeration, surely." Another rushing noise, another tremor, causing a couple of older pegasi to nearly lose their footing. The tension in the room immediately went up a notch or two. "...surely..." the pegasus said again, glancing around the room. The filly saw her father bustle quickly toward the group surrounding her mother, Silent Partner following closely behind. He began to speak to her quietly; she balked, then with an annoyed glance she tried to conceal from her guests, made her apologies and stepped away from them, Silent casually joining the crowd. The filly hesitated, then moved surreptitiously closer as her parents talked, though wasn't sure why she felt compelled to do so. Maybe it was because her parents spent as little time speaking to each other as possible, even during parties. Or perhaps her blooming realization that perhaps her parents' work wasn't fully above board needed further information. Possibly it was just another rebellious urge. No, she wasn't stalling. Shut up. "Certainly not," her mother was saying. "My viewing needs time to build anticipation. The bids will be quite anemic if I go first." "I know," her husband replied, "but Partner's got some serious concerns. He says I went too far with the evaporated cloud idea and that nopony would invest in it." She blinked. "But you have investors for it." "That's what I told him, but all this trouble down below is spooking him. Says he's already lost a ton of bits in his ground level interests, and can't risk more, even for his usual cut. He's ready to walk, and if he pulls out..." "...everypony he's brought in will pull out," she finished sourly. "Exactly. I just need to talk to him for a while, go over some numbers to reassure him. But if we delay things too long, ponies are going to start leaving. They're nervous enough as it is. Just do your viewing first this one time." She considered the option, then shook her head. "No, he can wait until after your presentation. The Updrafts are here tonight, and they've been simply agog to buy one of my pieces. They need to marinate just a little bit longer to get top bit from them, and you know what mindless spenders they are once they're on their third glass of cider." "Be reasonable," he said sharply. "This could ruin the entire-" There was a knock at the door. A very loud knock. "And more distractions," he sighed. He glanced around and spotted the filly before she could move away. After a brief scowl at her nearness, he said "Go get the door, pumpkin." "Yes, father." She didn't hurry across the room; that would be undignified. Around her ponies laughed (a bit too loudly) and chatted (a bit too sharply). When she reached the door, she paused. She didn't mean to. There was a sense of pressure around it, something she'd never felt before. The knock abruptly sounded again, making her jump. "Well?" her mother called, barely bothering to hide the acid. "Answer it, girl!" She swallowed, then turned the handle. The door swung open, and it took a few moments to process what she was seeing. Her mind had to take it in bits and pieces. …that’s a big pony. There’s something wrong with those hooves. And the fur. It’s so dark and coarse. That’s a really big pony. Wait. Wait, what is… Everything above where the shoulders should have been was just… wrong. And completely, unnaturally barren of fur. And red… There was a sudden silence in the room behind her. Everypony else was seeing it too. She took an instinctive step backwards. The creature beyond coincidentally did the same, and the… bit above the not-shoulders leaned forward. It was a tall doorway, but the creature was apparently even taller. It seemed to twist a little, its legs moving oddly atop the clouds beneath its hooves. Finally a group of rounded fleshy… things wrapped around the edge of the doorway, and the creature used the leverage to pull its upper body lower. There were screams of shock behind her as a huge, simian face appeared in the doorway. One giant eye, a pinprick of yellow in a sea of black, surveyed the foyer. “Well, well, well,” the creature rumbled. “What have we here?” Every pony in the room backed away, though not too quickly lest they attract the thing’s attention. “Is this a party? And I wasn’t invited! How inconsiderate.” He – for it was definitely a male – let out a chuckle that shook the walls, then his eye rotated down to stare at the filly. “May I come in?” All pony eyes turned toward her, and even considering her life up to now, she’d never felt so alone. “Um… no?” she tried, her voice quaking. He sneered at her. “Why, thank you, much obliged. Don’t mind the door, I’ll let myself in.” He released his grip on the doorway and his head lifted away from view. There was a pause, during which the filly heard a long intake of breath, then… The rushing noise sounded again, but at this range it was much louder and was accompanied by light, and heat, so much heat that the wall above the doorway literally evaporated. Through the hole thus created, she saw the creature sending out a blazing ray of fire from its mouth, cutting into the manor somewhere to her right. He turned his head slowly, and the beam passed overhead, just below ceiling height. There were more screams, and ponies threw themselves to the floor in a panic. Finally the noise stopped, and the filly looked up at the damage. The entire manor had been split in two lengthwise. The upper two thirds of the mansion, built as it was of solidified cloudstuff, hung in the air for a moment… then the breeze picked up, and the entire section floated to the side, and then began to fall. The south edge of it struck cloud first, and the structure slowly flipped entirely on its roof, to the accompaniment of crashing furniture within. The walls gradually began to break apart and drift away; the solidification treatment could only do so much. Her home - the only home she’d ever known – was gone. True, she’d had precious little in the way of possessions, but it was still her home. And all she could think was how angry her parents would be. But as she looked around, she realized there was no sign of them. “Ah, that’s better,” Lord Tirek said, pushing past the ruins of the doorway. “I do enjoy pegasus architecture. And I must say, this is a delightful party. Oh, and look!” He leaned down, and every pony was frozen in fear. “You even have a buffet!” He was not looking at the catering.