//------------------------------// // A Scribe and Duty // Story: Chronicle // by Honey Mead //------------------------------// Chapter 10: A Scribe and Duty We did not have to wait long for the first pony to arrive. Tenpenny was an earth pony, white by coat with a brown mane full of gray hairs with a tally count on his flank.The slight limp of his right hind leg was the only hindrance to his otherwise precise movements as he entered the room and bowed to the Princess. In the same movement he placed an over stuffed folder on the floor at his hooves. “Your Grace, I have received your summons and have brought you the documents requested. Though I feel somewhat in the dark as to why they would be necessary at this time.” “Thank you, Tenpenny, all will be revealed once the others have arrived. Until then, please, sit.” “Your Grace,” he replied, performing another off tilt bow. Seating himself he graced me with a small nod, which I returned in kind. There was some small animosity between us. It was my understanding that he had yet to come to terms with me occupying a position that he felt was due himself. This belief led him to provided a number of minor difficulties for me during my first year, enough to cause a small confrontation that only served to solidify the and mutualize the feelings. When the issues suddenly stopped a few months later I was more than a little surprised. He still treated me with mild contempt whenever we were forced to interact, but I could not begrudge him that, as long as it did not interfere with our work. It was a quiet few minutes as we waited for the other ponies to show up. My mind, however, was still very much stuck on the problem at hoof. I knew that the Princess had had plans to deal with the griffins set up and ready to be enacted. I knew these plans involved the possibility of a civil war amongst the griffins. What I didn’t know was how or even if these events had changed things. For all I know this had been the plan all along. Though that didn’t seem lineup with the way the Princess had acted upon reading the letter, of course that could be a feint. I was beginning to dislike politics. I was startled from my thoughts by another knock at the door. I couldn’t hide my surprise at the pony who stepped, almost shyly, into the room. “Mi Amora,” the Princess smiled, “thank you for coming.” “Cadance, please, Aunt Celestia.” “Of course.. Cadance.” “Your letter was a little vague -” Another knock cut her off. The Princess shifted her gaze to the door. “Come in, please.” The door opened slowly as a butter yellow mane squeezed into the room. She turned to reveal a soft pink mare with her eyes cast to the ground. “Am I.. um, late?” “No, dear, please come in,” said the Princess. The pink pegasus stepped in, never raising her head and sat down against the wall as far away from everypony else. The Princess smiled warmly at her before turning to face us all. “I apologize for the vagueness of the letter, but we must act as quickly and as silently as possible. The Griffin Empire is no more.” The Princess paused, allowing everypony to react and take in the news. Cadance eyes widened in complete surprise as she put a hoof to her lips, whispering under her breath. Tenpenny looked down at the folders at his hooves, I could almost see his mind connecting the dots as realization dawned behind his eyes. It was the reaction of the sheepish pink mare, however, that surprised me the most. She quickly flipped her mane to hide her face from the rest of the room, but before it completed its course I am sure that I saw a small smile on her lips. The Princess’ eyes flickered over to the mare for a bare fraction of a second. “Our armies are already mobilizing to secure our borders and handle the inevitable flood of refugees. However, this will not be enough. We have deep ties to the Griffin Empire that will be damaged, some beyond repair, by these events. In order to secure the stability and future of Equestria we must salvage everything we can. “Tenpenny, it is time to begin digging into our reserves. We should be able to make up the difference in imports for the next six months before enacting austerity measures.” The old pony nodded in affirmation of her statement.  “Yes, your Grace. That will quickly drain our reserves, however. After the initial six months, even with austerity, we will not have another two years before the coffers run dry. Re-establishing a steady trade must be our primary concern.” “Yes,” the Princess said, turning to her niece. “Cadance, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but I need you to act as a diplomat and negotiator with the griffin tribes. It is important that we help the griffin people through their time of trouble. Your primary concern will be to help them find stability by re-establish trade as soon as possible. They need our goods as much as we need their gold and ore.” Cadance nodded along with her aunts words. “You will need to speak with as many of the Tribes that you can and secure trade agreements with them and, if possible, peace agreements between with the other tribes. War serves nopony and civil war less so. “I will not be sending you out alone. Captain Armor,” Cadance’s eyes widened slightly, “will lead a contingent of the Guard as an escort during your trip.” “But Shining is only a Lieutenant.” “Then perhaps you would like to be the first to give him the good news,” the Princess said. “I will also be sending Mrs. Summer Eve to assist you.” She nodded to the pink pegasus, “She is the foremost expert on griffin culture and is fluent in many of their dialects.” I blinked in surprise as Summer seemed to cower under the sudden scrutiny of those present. My experience with griffins was limited, but they didn’t seem like they would have anything but contempt for such timidity. “You will be supplied with more detailed instructions before you leave. Are there any questions?” When no pony spoke up she nodded and added. “Then I suggest you begin packing, you need to be on your way as soon as equinely possible.” ==Chronicle== The sun began to peek through the balcony as I finished the last of my paper work. I laid down my quill next to the dry ink well and rubbed at my tired eyes. It was morning, and I had yet to find the time to sleep. The meeting with the Princess had been the first of many. Group after group moved through the Princess’ study. Each was informed of the situation and assigned tasks that ranged from controlling the release of information to the general public to missions that I could not begin to guess at the purpose of. It was hours later when the Princess sent me off to find and prepare all the necessary documents. The Princess had been prepared, if not for this exact eventuality, for a similar possibilities and everypony was being tapped for extra duty. Half of the palace’s messengers had been temporarily reassigned to facility communications with the outside and those who remained were being run ragged. With this in mind I decided to make the delivery myself and moved the papers to my saddlebags before hefting them across my withers. I wound my way through the castle halls towards the Princess’ study amid a chaos of ponies. My weariness slowed me down enough that I couldn’t even maintain a steady trot. My slow pace forced me to hug the wall or risk being trampled under hoof by the ponies rushing to see their tasks completed. The level of activity only increased as the sun moved through the sky. I doubt there was a single pony who wasn’t in fear of drowning under the mountain of work that was being laid at their hooves. The congestion and press of bodies began to get to me and my already tired breathing became labored. The first fraying edges of a panic I had thought I left behind began to show. Without real conscious thought I began to search for a way out. My eyes \ frantically scanned the walls for a door that would take me away from the crowded halls. I didn’t hesitate to step through the first one to present itself. As the door closed behind me I closed my eyes and steadied myself. When my breathing had calmed down and the sharp edge of panic dulled I allowed myself to peer at my new surroundings. The open sky, still tinted orange from the rising sun, contrasted the greens of the vegetation and the shining white of the marble statuary. I sighed in relief, though it was still not my ideal situation, I was more comfortable with the openness than with the press and confusion of the halls. I began to move among the statues, though the path was longer I knew that I could avoid most of the hallways on my way to the Princess’ study. It had been a long time since I walked through the statue garden.  Even as tired as I was the power of the statues couldn’t be ignored. I had had the unfortunate task of attending modern art shows with the Princess over the years. The sculptures and painting on display at those events paled in comparison to the masterworks that filled this courtyard. I don’t believe the difference was based on the skill of the artist at work, rather it was their attitude towards the audience. It was explained to me that the goal of modern art was to present a piece that everypony could view and take away their own meaning. It isn’t that that is an ignoble goal, rather the artist are allowed to feel as though any failure of success is on the part of the viewer rather than the artist. The statues that filled the garden were more of a classical nature. For each one there was a set response or idea that the artist had set out to capture or instill in his audience. Thus the success of the piece lay at the hooves of the artist. If the audience failed to come away with the intended understanding than he or she had not accomplished their task. Each of these statues had succeeded to the point that even the fillies and colts who came here on field trips were usually able to understand the heart of the work. I stepped around the statue of ‘Victory’ and froze. Sitting before the statue that represented chaos was the Princess. Her head was tilted back as she seemed to be glaring at the mismatched creature set in stone. She wore a frown deeper than I had ever seen on her before. Tensed and at the ready, she looked about to attack the marble form. After a moment her glare softened and she visibly relaxed, though her frown remained and her eyes never strayed from their target. “Mr. Chronicle, you look like you have been up all night.” “Yes, your Majesty.” I said, bowing slightly before closing the distance between us. “I was just on my way to deliver the reports you requested.” Her frown softened slightly, “You must take better care of yourself, Mr. Chronicle. I need your mind sharp and that means you must sleep on occasion.” Without turning she patted the grass at her side with a forehoof. Too tired to protest I sat beside her and looked up at the statue. Something about the patchwork creature carved in marble tugged at the corners of my mind, though I couldn’t put a hoof on it. “I still owe you the story of Discord don’t I?” the Princess asked. At the mention of the name my mind was drawn back to a stained glass window in a long hall. Images of impossible things displayed in the bright multicolored glass centered around a being in the exact pose of the statue on before me. “This is the oldest of the gardens statues. The original if I am to be honest. Most ponies don’t know his story, much less that he actually existed in the first place. I’m partially to blame for that, I didn’t encourage the preservation of his memory. “Discord was a being of incredible power. Whether the power corrupted his mind or he was always insane I will never know. He was chaos incarnate. His simple presence caused bizarre happenings. He appeared to be a creature of omnipotence, able to warp reality to his whim. The sun and moon were his play thing, rising one minute only to fall seconds later. He could do most anything he wished with little more than a thought and a snap of his talon or paw...” ==Chronicle== I resisted the return of consciousness. Fighting against the creeping sensations pushing at my dreams. I refused to open my eyes, too content in the warmth filling my being. Even as I struggled I knew that the battle was done, the act of resisting sounding the death knell of my dreams. Still I fought, sinking deeply into the warmth that surrounded me. The shock of the shifting and tightening around me brought an end to the war as my eyes popped open. I flinched as the world crashed through the last of my mental defenses. The legs wrapped around my chest squeezed just a little tighter and everything fell into place. I was in my room. Midday light entered through the small window, illuminating the sparse apartment. The pink legs pulling me tightly against her chest could only belong to one mare. I turned, putting us muzzle to muzzle. Her eyes shined in the dim light, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. We lay silently holding each other for a time. When I finally made to speak she interrupted. Words were not necessary, they would only get in the way. It was sometime later when Stars rolled off the mattress. The soft impact of her hooves across the rugs that populated the floor were the only sounds besides my own breathing and the beat of my heart. With the meticulous care of a lifetime of repetition she began to dawn her uniform. We both knew that this was it. For duty’s sake our own feelings had to be set aside. Saying the words would only bring pain. Life was full of enough cruelties, large and small, to inflict them on oneself was foalish. Still, I found I couldn’t remain silent. To simply let this pass, to let it go unchallenged, to not put up a fight no matter how hollow, I could not do it. “Silent--” She cut me off with a look. I had seen many things in her face over the years. The feigned disinterest that she wore as just another piece of her uniform, the stern glare of command that caused battle hardened warriors to step back, the calm rage that made them cower. In the times that we were alone I witnessed what others never would. I saw the tenderness and love that no other pony would ever see. I saw her, Silent Stars, the mantel of Arch-Magi set aside. On rare occasions I saw the pain that she never spoke of, even to me. I had never seen pleading. Her eyes willed me to remain silent, to spare her the pain of what neither of us could change. I don’t know which course was the more noble path, nor do I pretend to know which was the right choice. As silence reigned Stars returned to the bed. Stepping onto the mattress she stood over me looking down through sad eyes that I would do anything to see smile. Her lips pressed to mine and a single tear fell onto my cheek before I felt her magic flare above me. I lay alone in my bed, the ghost of a kiss still on my lips. It took me an hour to find the will to move. The world didn’t wait on ponies and the Princess would need me.