//------------------------------//
// Act II, Part VIII: Escalation 
// Story: The False Goddess 
// by Zoura3025 
//------------------------------//

Aching pain engulfed Gustopha’s body as she stirred awake and shuffled in the soft bed she had been placed in. Her muscles felt stiff and sore, and her very skin fought her attempts to move.
“Easy, Princess!” Precipice squeaked, “You’re still hurt pretty bad…”
Gustopha’s eyes slowly opened, and she groaned. Her body was still horribly burnt, though the scars were much lighter as her fur attempted to grow back.
“How are the others?” Gustopha asked, voice slightly frantic, “May, April, Aerated.”
“They’re okay. A little battered up, but nothing serious. They told me what happened,” Precipice explained.
Gustopha smiled weakly. “Good,” She replied, voice still hoarse as her eyes closed again. Her breathing was marked with the soft wheeze of a burnt throat.
“They also told me you want to make more verdants,” Precipice admitted, “They seemed really worried.”

Gustopha’s muscles flared in pain as she tensed up. “I’m not sure yet…” She admitted quietly.
“I’d support you, Princess,” Precipice expressed, “I was worried at first, but Stoneheart seemed healthier this morning than he did before the surgery. You did a good job.”
“Thank you, Precipice…” Gustopha replied hesitantly, “I have been thinking about potential candidates,” She admitted.
“Who?” Precipice asked.
“April and May,” Gustopha replied, “They don’t have Stoneheart’s size, but that shouldn’t be a problem, now that I know what I’m doing when it comes to the actual surgery. They demonstrated strong magical potential this morning in the cave, too.”
Precipice nodded a little. “What of Aerated Turf? She’s the other of the first four guards you ever had, right?” She asked.

Gustopha hesitated. “Aerated Turf is… Not suited for it,” She admitted, “I’d have to figure out how to split pegasi magic both ways, and there’s no guarantee the split would stick… Chances are, her body would reject having more than one magical output. Either the plant would die, or her wings would.”
Precipice blinked. “Aren’t you a live example of why two magical outputs is feasible?” She asked.

“There’s more at play than just moving magic around,” Gustopha expressed, “I don’t have any exact information on my creation, but I do know a few variables: Me and the wing donor were both deceased, the doctor used magical implants to jumpstart my body’s systems, and I think he performed some sort of incantation to grant me earth pony magic, in place of a more physical solution,” She explained, “Aerated is not dead, and I don’t have the ability to implant magic like the doctor did to stabilize everything.”

Precipice blinked. She hadn’t expected such a comprehensive answer; admittedly, though, it made sense. Considering how rare alicorns were, she could only assume that anything equivalent to an alicorn would be appreciably difficult to create. At least, Precipice assumed that a pegasus-verdant would be similarly powerful to an alicorn. There was no way to really know for sure, save for testing things directly, which would not be happening any time soon.
“Couldn’t you just go as-” Precipice began.

“No,” Gustopha replied sternly, “He has done enough to me to last a lifetime. I do not need to grovel for his advice.”
Precipice flinched at the sudden harshness in Gustopha’s otherwise weak, wheezing tone. “Of- Of course. Apologies, your highness,” She replied meekly.
Gustopha sighed a little, accompanied by another hoarse wheeze. “It’s alright… Just, please refrain from talking about him,” She requested.
Precipice nodded, going quiet to allow Gustopha to rest.

It took Gustopha another day to rest enough to walk again. Her alicorn metabolism served her well in terms of recovery, but magical injuries like the ones she had sustained would leave their marks. It would take her some time before she was fully healed.
“You shouldn’t be flying yourself home in that condition, Princess,” Aerated Turf expressed, “It takes a lot of effort.”
Gustopha huffed softly in annoyance. “I suppose you’re right, but that puts us down a chariot,” She expressed.
“We can spread the load over a couple of the others,” Aerated promised.
“Are you certain?” Gustopha asked.
Aerated nodded. “Positive. We’ve had to chain chariots once or twice because of a pegasus with a downed wing,” She recalled.
Gustopha nodded hesitantly and stepped aboard one of the chariots, seating herself calmly.

The flight back was, thankfully, uneventful. It gave the princess time to think about her next course of action… She still had a few months to wait before her diplomacy with the moon would start. Celestia had expressed interest in familiarizing her with day court and those sorts of royal proceedings, which would be a necessity for her as a princess. And, of course, there was the matter of her own personal projects…

Gustopha wasn’t entirely decided yet on if she was going to go through with making more verdants. What the mock-alicorn had said had rattled her good, even if it shouldn’t have. Gustopha pondered the advantages and disadvantages. More verdants of course meant more Blightsbane pods that could be distributed without worry of spoilage. But then again… It would likely broadcast her actions. Was she ready for that kind of scrutiny? Could she avoid said scrutiny at this point?

Gustopha jerked out of her thoughts as the chariot landed. Stepping off once it was settled. “Thank you, both of you,” Gustopha expressed, slowly pacing into the castle.
She noticed the castle felt a bit emptier. “Where is Celestia?” She asked a solar guard.
“She’s in day court today,” The guard replied, “You might be able to catch the last couple hours if you hurry.”
Gustopha’s eyes widened, and she uttered a hurried, “Thank you,” Before heading up to the court.
Gustopha did not want to make a fuss as she entered. She very quietly slipped in the door, and attempted to slink around the side of the room unnoticed.

Celestia’s eyes widened as she saw Gustopha’s still largely burnt form. Putting a pin in her own thought, the elder alicorn turned to her adoptive sister. “Gustopha! What happened in Manehattan?” She asked, flying to Gustopha’s side.
Gustopha hesitated. All of the court’s eyes were now on her. Then again, this would be a good time to say something important. She had a lot of attentive ears on her.
“I ran into a particularly powerful creature of the blight,” Gustopha conceded, “In the effort of banishing it, I had to overpower my magic… The fire spread from my horn, and thus, here I am.”
A small murmur ran across the court, and Celestia nodded slowly. “How powerful was it?” She asked hesitantly.
“It was able to speak, like you and I… It overpowered the three guards I had with me at the time with ease, and it knew things it shouldn’t,” Gustopha admitted, “Things I should… Perhaps be transparent about, before the court.”
Celestia nodded a bit, helping Gustopha over to the royal podium. “You can address the court in a moment, okay?” She promised, “I’m just finishing up some provisional orders over food supplies.”

Gustopha nodded, allowing herself to overhear the conversation, but not speaking on it directly. It was a conversation about the distribution of food supplies from the towns that could still produce; or even those that now produced with Gustopha’s help. A good portion of the court’s envoys didn’t know about the source of the Blightsbane trees; and a substantial portion of that section still didn’t know the trees existed at all.
Celestia stepped down from the podium and turned to face Gustopha. “Are you sure you’re okay to face the court?” She asked.
Gustopha nodded and stepped up, taking a deep breath. The audible wheeze from the back of her throat wasn’t reassuring, but she prepared to speak anyways.

“Over the past month or so, I have been experimenting,” Gustopha began, “I have, with success, implanted a plant within a pony, and have altered their magic in such a way that they are compatible. As of my last checkup with them, they face no adverse health effects, the plant has rooted well, and they are producing.”
A dull roar fell over the court. It seemed this news wasn’t going to be received with unanimous support of the crowd as it had with her guard.
“And by whose grace were you allowed to conduct such and experiment?” Asked a courtgoer, “You’re messing with the very fabric of what makes us ponies!”

Celestia stepped up beside Gustopha. “My own,” Celestia stated firmly, “I oversaw her preparation, and gave her clearance to go through with the procedure. She is pushing the limits of our kind, yes, but not without the deserved respect.” The first point was, technically an exaggeration of Celestia’s involvement with greenlighting the project, but Gustopha didn’t feel it necessary to correct her.
Some shocked gasps emanated from the crowd.
“You’re facilitating a mad scientist!” A voice called from the back.
Gustopha’s ears pinned back slightly. This was, admittedly, exactly what she was afraid of, and yet that fear hadn’t helped her prepare at all.
Celestia was now officially in “protective big sister” mode. She gently pushed Gustopha back away from the podium and took the stand herself.

“I will not tolerate such slander in my court,” Celestia announced firmly, “Gustopha is, so far, the only pony who has made appreciable contributions to the removal of the blight that now infests our land. Her methods are extreme, yes, but so is the danger we face. You can see the scars she now bears after a battle with what the blight is capable of. This is not an issue we can avoid any longer.”
Again, a rolling murmur fell across the court. A fair few ponies were in support of the “extreme methods”; it would probably be a majority in her favour, should it come to voting.
“Envoys of our great land: I’m sure you are all in agreement that we do not want to see our land suffer any longer. We are all tired of burying mares, stallions, and foals alike; we are all tired of seeing our brothers and sisters starve in the streets. Is it too much to ask that we not immediately cast out our first practical solution?” Celestia asked.
Amazingly, the court fell silent. A moment of pure, unbridled contemplation.

Gustopha stepped back towards the podium. “Should I take this direction further, I aim to do it in the most morally agreeable way possible,” Gustopha explained, “My subject knew all the risks of the treatment. He was given time to think over his decision. And now, he is in the castle infirmary, being given the best possible care through his recovery. I aim for any such future subjects to go through a similar process of information, deliberation, and support.”
This seemed to sway a few of the more on-the-fence courtgoers. Did they really think she’d just cut open a stallion without any regard for his thoughts on the matter?
“How many subjects do you intend to take?” One of the court’s more dissenting voices asked.
Gustopha hesitated. “That remains to be determined. I would like a sample size of five to start; further subjects will not be accepted until the initial sample is deemed medically fit for unassisted living, which is a timespan I hope won’t exceed a few months,” She explained.
A few of the court’s voices asked her about risks and dangers related to the surgery. Those were questions she had answers to. Very, very detailed answers. Celestia briefly looked at the clock. Dinner would be late tonight.

The court almost seemed a bit bored as Gustopha finished with her explanation. It had been quite thorough; she’d essentially described every step, and all possible risks that could arise. By now, the camps had arisen: Those supporting Gustopha’s further pursuits, assuming proper care was taken, and those would would remain staunchly opposed even if the blight claimed everypony they’d loved.

“I believe it is best to put this up to vote,” Celestia said, nodding to a pair of solar guards, who quickly moved around the inside of the court table, giving ballots to everypony present, aside from the princesses themselves. “If you support the further development of the verdant tribe, mark affirmative. If you do not, mark negative. Spoiled ballots will not be counted, and as this is a matter of national importance, majority will rule,” Celestia explained.

The court fell silent as everypony considered their vote carefully. Even Gustopha considered the ups and downs of pursuing her own line of research. She wanted this to be as unbiased as possible.
After all the ballots had been collected, they were counted by a pair of solar guards, whom were assumed to be a neutral party. One of the guards shoved the taller stack towards Princess Celestia. She briefly looked at the stack, and nodded sagely.

“I, Princess Celestia, observe that this court lies in favour of the pursuit of further verdant experimentation, by majority vote,” She announced.
The court got loud for a moment as the table responded to the news. The angriest ponies were the loudest, but most were quietly content or discontent. A very small hoofful remained neutral.

Gustopha gave a small sigh of relief. She still got a few angry looks, but she at least the court’s majority approved of her research. It gave her a sense of stability; some concrete idea that she was doing the right thing.
Celestia turned to Gustopha and gave a small frown at the somewhat bleary look on her adopted sister’s face.
“Would you like to go rest some more?” Celestia asked softly.
Gustopha, hesitantly, gave a small nod. The exhaustion of her encounter with the mock-alicorn still gripped her, even as her magic had had time to recharge. Skipping a night of sleep just before using more of her magic than she ever had before was probably going to have its repercussions.
“Go ahead, I’ll finish up here,” Celestia promised. Gustopha nodded thankfully and slunk out of the room.

The princess did, however, to go check on Stoneheart in the infirmary. She actually had a bit of trouble finding him; he was in the infirmary cafeteria, receiving something to eat. The stallion’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the burnt physique of the princess walk in.
“How are you feeling, Stoneheart?” Gustopha asked softly, sitting beside him.
“I am well, Princess… I should be asking you the same thing,” He expressed, “What happened in Manehattan?”
Gustopha huffed softly in annoyance and briefly recounted her experience with the mock-alicorn.

Stoneheart’s eyes widened. “To think the blight could assemble such a creature…” He muttered, before turning away, “I’m sorry, Princess. Had I known the danger, I would have-” Gustopha cut him off.
“You would have stayed behind, by my order,” Gustopha interjected, “That creature was powerful. Even with Blightsbane magic becoming one with your own, your body in its compromised state might not have had what it needed to fight off such an infection.”

Stoneheart sat in stunned silence for a moment, but he simply nodded a bit. “Of course, Princess,” He replied with a soft sigh.
“You have a far higher purpose, Stoneheart,” Gustopha insisted, “One you would not be able to fulfill, should haste make you succumb early.”
Stoneheart again gave a small nod. “Naturally,” He remarked curtly.
“In that vein… I have been given permission to continue with more experimentation into the creation of verdants,” Gustopha began, “In the coming weeks, you’ll be joined by four others. You five will be our first sample, to prove the stability of the magic at play.”
Stoneheart nodded a bit. “I see,” He replied, “It would be nice to not be alone in this regard, I’ll admit that much. There is something about being the only pony of my kind… An indescribable loneliness. The idea that my death would be an act of genocide,” He attempted.

Gustopha nodded slowly and pulled the stallion into a hug. “Rest assured, I won’t let that happen, Stoneheart,” She promised, “I will make you some fellows. Then, you won’t be alone.”
Stoneheart leaned against the princess. The texture of her burnt fur was crisp, and it made him grimace slightly. The texture of his failure to protect her. “Do not rush yourself for my sake, Princess,” He requested softly.
Gustopha nodded. ‘Of course,” She replied, “All in due time… I need to remember I have plenty of it,” She expressed.
Stoneheart chuckled softly. “You still aren’t used to being an immortal?” He asked.
“I suspect it will take a lifetime for that thought to take root,” Gustopha conceded, releasing her grip on the stallion.
Stoneheart nodded a bit. “Take care of yourself, Princess,” He requested.
Gustopha nodded. “I will, Stoneheart. You too,” She bade, standing up and returning to her room.

Gustopha nestled under her covers and sighed deeply in comfort. Snug in her own bed, surrounded by healthy plants teeming with life energy… It relaxed her thoroughly. Despite the faint aches of her burnt skin and exhausted muscles, Gustopha had little difficulty falling into a deep, peaceful slumber.





Plantation huffed and puffed as she galloped to the small crater at the edge of the field. “Tex!” She squeaked, “Tex, are you okay?”
A wobbly brown hoof lazily extended from the shallow pit, waving. “Fine…” Texas grumbled softly.
Plantation’s horn ignited, helping her muscles pull Texas Toast from the ground. She squeaked as he jerked free, falling backwards with him on top of her.
Texas shook his head, trying to clear the dizzy feeling. “Ugh… I really need to learn to stop,” He grumbled softly.

“Tex, you scared me,” Plantation whined, hugging her friend tightly, “You hit the ground hard.”
Texas gave a small smile. “You think one bump would be enough to tackle me?” He asked with a dismissive giggle.
Plantation sighed a little and just held the colt close. “You still scared me when you hit the ground and didn’t get up…” She whined.





The next few days were busy, but in an uninteresting sense. Gustopha would largely finish recovering from her injuries, and she would go about preparations for making more verdants. Finding candidates would, of course, be the hard part, so Gustopha started with the two candidates she had the most faith in: April and May.
The two earth ponies allowed the Princess to hold their full attention as she explained the potential dangers of the surgery. They were both contemplative for a long moment, weighing the ups and downs in their head.
“I’m sorry, Princess… I don’t think I’d be comfortable going through with the procedure,” April admitted, “May and I have already lost a sister, and-” She was cut off by May.

“I’ll do it, Princess. For everyone,” May interrupted, “Stoneheart’s told us about how diligently you’ve checked up on him. I have faith.”
April looked at May with stunned eyes. “May, you’re-” She didn’t even have time to start her thought.
“April, you are my sister, not my mother. Do you not have faith that the Princess will take good care of me?” May asked sternly.

April hesitated. “I…” She trailed off with a hard sigh, “What if something happens to you?” She asked, anger swelling in her tone.
“Nothing will happen,” May huffed, “Gustopha has shown herself to be exceptionally diligent, especially when it comes to medical matters. If there’s anypony I’d trust my life to, it’s her,” She expressed, before continuing in a more solemn tone, “Besides… This way I can truly avenge March. Nopony will ever have to starve on my watch again.”
April went silent, and looked away dejectedly.
“If I may… What happened to March?” Gustopha asked softly.

April’s eyes became wet with tears, but May bit her tongue. “March was a general in charge of us during the war; a proud warrior. She fought hard, for all of us, for everything. She found us food when rations were low, and shouldered blows that would have killed a lesser pony just to ensure we made it to another day. One day, though, we found her face down in her bed, blight rot seeping from a cut in her shoulder. The Lunar army was using poisoned weapons,” May explained slowly, tears now welling in her own eyes, “Th-the last thing she ever said to us was to make sure we were tidy in the morning to retreat back towards the capital.”
April was now quietly sobbing through her squeezed shut eyelids.

Hesitantly, Gustopha pulled both of them into a hug. “I’m sorry, April, May. I had no idea,” She expressed softly.
April barely managed to make out words through her tear-choked throat. “I-if I lost another sister… I-I don’t know what I’d do,” She whimpered, leaning into the princess’ embrace.
May didn’t break down like her sister, but Gustopha could still feel the grief in her stance as she slumped a bit in the grasp.
Gustopha didn’t say anything. What could she say? She wasn’t foolish enough to think that everypony around her lacked emotional baggage, but this wasn’t the type of thing the alicorn was comfortable with just passing over. So, she held the two sisters close, and allowed them to grieve.

May eventually wriggled out of Gustopha’s grip, and the alicorn released April, who’d managed to recompose herself. “I-I’m sorry, Princess,” April stammered.
“It’s okay, April,” Gustopha promised, gently stroking April’s mane, “Just because you’re asked to be strong doesn’t mean you should be scolded when you’re weak.”
April hesitated. “I want to go through with the surgery,” She expressed, voice more determined despite its slight warble, “If May trusts you, then I want-” Her voice briefly caught in her throat, “I want to share her faith.”
Gustopha was slightly taken aback by the proclamation. “Are you certain?” Gustopha asked, “The surgery is permanent; once the plant is rooted, removing it would be dangerous, if not fatal.”

April nodded, her face more stern now. “May and I promised each other that we’d always be by each other’s side,” She stated, “If she wishes to go through with the surgery, then I will go through it with her.”
May looked at her sister. “April…” She attempted.
“My mind is made up, May,” April huffed softly, her hoof pressing against May’s.
Gustopha nodded a bit. “I won’t be doing more than one surgery in a single day, but I’ll be sure you both know in advance. I still need two more volunteers, which I’ll be looking for today,” She admitted.

“We could show you to the royal guard academy. I’m sure you’d find some willing volunteers there,” May expressed, “Besides, I don’t think Celestia’s shown you to it yet.”
Gustopha nodded a bit. “It would be helpful to have a greater pool of candidates to draw from,” She agreed, “Lead the way.”
The three mares stood up and began walking out of the castle, towards a large fort. In the courtyard, dozens (maybe even hundreds) of ponies seemed to be running some kind of drill.

“This is the royal academy,” May explained, “Before the war, every single guard or soldier that Equestria had was trained here, on-base. During the war, though, more forts were built to train soldiers across Equestria.”
“...The Lunar army had their own, private training grounds, too,” April added, her tone slightly grisly, as if she’d seen firsthand what they were like.
Gustopha slowly nodded. She supposed all the troops had to come from somewhere… Still, the building in and of itself was awe-inspiring.
“If the war is over, why are there so many ponies still being trained?” Gustopha asked.

“It’s the country’s equivalent of a lingering adrenaline rush,” May remarked, “Your energy doesn’t die away the second the threat is removed. Plus, there’s worry one of our neighboring kingdoms might take advantage of our weakness. At least, that’s how it was explained to me,” She added.
Gustopha nodded again, taking in the scale of both the building and the small army within it.

A tall unicorn mare in particularly ornate golden armor approached the three; she was a vibrant orange with a tied-back yellow mane and tail. “Uh-oh. The Showers givin’ ya trouble, Princess?” She asked with a chuckle.
“Far from it; they’re helping me find two more candidates for my upcoming trials,” Gustopha explained, a small smile on her face.
The mare nodded. “The verdant whatsits, eh?” She asked, “Well, I’ve plenty of strong ponies; I don’t tolerate whelps and malingerers in my academy.” The mare then offered a hoof. “Blazing Corona. I’m the drill instructor,” She introduced.
Gustopha gently shook the mare’s hoof, and Corona chuckled. “You’ve got a mighty soft shake, Princess. You oughtta come train up with the recruits sometimes,” Corona teased.
Gustopha smiled softly. “I’m not a fighter,” She retorted, “But, if any of your soldiers need emergency medical attention, I’ve become quite familiar with the workings of pony interiors as of late.”

Corona nodded a bit. “Really now? Alright, a soldier gets his leg blown off from a magical blast. What do you do?” Corona asked gruffly.
“Assuming he’s wearing metal armor, I remove a plate and heat it to cauterize the wound. If the materials are present, a splint is fastened to his leg so he can walk himself somewhere safe for proper medical care. If there’s no such metal implement to cauterize the wound properly, his tail will be severed and fastened into a tourniquet to slow the bleeding until proper medical attention can be delivered. Infections will be dealt with as needed,” Gustopha replied, surprisingly evenly.
Corona seemed a bit taken aback by how thorough Gustopha’s answer was. “I, err… I see, yes,” Corona replied hesitantly. About half of Gustopha’s explanation had gone over her head.
“Could you assemble the recruits so she could tell them about the procedure?” April requested, “There’s a fair amount to go over.”

Corona nodded. “I’ll round up everypony in the mess hall. Give me thirty,” She replied, “Showers, get the Princess settled in; make sure she’s comfy.” The mare turned and walked away without another word, already barking orders at the recruits.
“Do you think she found my answer adequate?” Gustopha asked softly, “I’ve never been in a fight against something that wasn’t blighted,” She admitted.
“You did just fine, Princess,” April promised with a soft chuckle, “Right this way.”

Gustopha followed the two earth ponies into the fort, looking around in awe. Paintings of decorated war heroes lined the walls, clearly intending honor upon those who have aspired for great things. Gustopha briefly paused as she saw the plaque beneath a particularly studly earth pony mare who had soft blue fur and a mane the orangey brown of dead grass.
“March Showers: Big sister to all, stranger to greed. Taken too soon by the blight that took from us all.”

“That was your sister, I take it?” Gustopha asked softly.
May simply nodded. “The one and only,” She replied.
April huffed a bit. “I hate that painting,” She muttered, “Too much emphasis on her face… Makes her look like a stallion.”
Gustopha simply nodded, following her guards down to a particularly large hall. Tables filled much of the room, though there was a fair amount of space to walk. The pair of guards lead Gustopha to a small stage, presumably intended for presenting.

Gustopha looked curiously at a thick pipe protruding from the ground in the front-middle of the stage.
“That’s the PA system. You speak into it, and it projects your voice all around the room,” May explained.
Gustopha nodded a bit. “How does it work?” She asked, briefly gazing upon the unassuming pipe.
“That, I don’t know,” May admitted.
Gustopha watched as recruits filed in from various entrances into the hall. April and May stood on either side of her; it gave her a sort of regal feeling, even if her royal procession was a bit meager at just two ponies.

As the recruits finished settling in, the hall went deafeningly silent as Corona took the stage. “Alright, that’s just about everyone. Now, listen closely: You are being addressed by the Princess herself. I’m nice about mucking around when I’m speaking because I know it’ll bite you in the flank later, but if I catch any of you faffing around or having a chin-wag during the Princess’ audience, I will personally see to it that you’re punished worse than the bastards we sent to the moon some decade ago,” Corona stated, “Do I make myself crystal clear?”
“SIR YES SIR!” The hall roared back.
Gustopha flinched at the sudden loud noise. She hoped that the recruits wouldn’t all pipe up like that all at once again.
Corona stopped back to the side. “They’re all yours, Princess,” She added curtly.

Gustopha took a short breath and stepped forward to address the crowd. She leaned towards the pipe and began speaking. Compared to Corona’s harsh, gruff tongue, Gustopha’s voice might as well have been the soft coo of an angel.
“I am in need of test subjects for an experiment into the future of our ongoing battle against the blight. I have been, up until recently in secret, developing weapons against it; the Blightsbane trees you now see around the castle and courtyard are one such development,” Gustopha explained, “However, this next direction is a far more potent one: I have begun grafting ponies directly with samples of the tree. These ‘verdants’, as I have dubbed them, are already shaping up to be an evolution in our fight. However, I am about to be in short supply of volunteers, which is where you all come in.”
Gustopha took a moment to allow the crowd to digest. She could see ponderous looks on most of the ponies’ faces, but not a single one dared speak.

“The criteria are as follows: I am in need of earth ponies, of above-average physical fitness. They must be willing to accept the potential dangers and complications that may arise with surgery, and will spend up to two months in recovery. They will not have a choice in which regiment they join: They will join the terran guard, under my command, when their training is complete,” Gustopha listed off, “At current, I am only in need of two more volunteers. However, come the full re-entrance of the new verdants into guard life, I will be returning for more. As for pegasi, unicorns, and those earth ponies who are not comfortable with the modification procedure, I will be opening up spaces in the terran guard for those who will serve under the verdants themselves.”
Again, Gustopha gave a small pause. She then began to list off every possible danger she knew of with the surgery; she had the entire audience captive right now, might as well not waste it.

One long, gruelingly detailed explanation later, Gustopha stepped away from the PA system. “Thank you,” She said quietly.
Corona shook herself off in a rare moment of lacking discipline. Opaque medical discussion had not been on her listening list for the afternoon. “To lighten the load on our princess, I will be vetting your applications myself. Make me good ‘n’ proud to call you our guard’s next generation,” Corona insisted.
Gustopha was ready for the crowd’s reply this time. “SIR YES SIR!” Came the chant.
“Alright, back to your training with ya. You’ve had enough quiet time with our Princess for a week!” Corona bellowed.
The mass of recruits quickly filed out of the room, presumably to go about their business.

Gustopha hesitated. “You could stand to be a bit gentler with them, couldn’t you?” She asked, “They are just recruits.”
Corona looked at the princess for a long moment. She wanted to object in particularly spectacular fashion, but there was something innocent about Gustopha’s tone. It was a childlike innocence: A lack of knowledge.
Corona sighed. “I’m not rough on them because I want to hurt them, Princess. I’m rough on them because I want them to be prepared for the rigors of battle. The battlefield is loud; ponies are screaming orders at you, you’ve got hostiles bearing down on you, you might be hurt… I need to toughen my recruits up what little I can so they can keep a level head in that scenario,” She expressed.
Gustopha nodded contemplatively. “I see,” She replied softly, “Thank you for your time, Blazing Corona.”
Corona nodded, bidding the three mares farewell.

Once again, Gustopha’s mind allowed itself to fill with thoughts of preparation. She didn’t have applicants from the academy, of course, but she had April and May she could schedule for.
“Do either of you have a preference on going before the other?” Gustopha asked.
May nodded. “I’d like to go first,” She expressed.
April nodded a bit. “That’s fine. I didn’t have a preference,” She admitted.

Gustopha nodded. “I’ll have May scheduled for two days’ time, and April the day after. You will both need to spend the days leading up to the surgery in the infirmary being prepared for the grafting,” She explained.
“Right… The immunosuppressants, right Princess?” May asked.
Gustopha nodded. “That’s correct,” She replied, “You will explain to the doctors you are preparing for an organ transplant. In the intervening days, I will be collecting fresh scions for the grafting, and resting my magic,” She explained.
April and May nodded dutifully, answering, “Yes ma’am,” In unison as they broke away to walk to the infirmary.