"Well," Papyrus said, sharing a bench with Senescey as they used the last of the evening light to dissect a newspaper, "I'd call this a productive outing, wouldn't you?"
"Can't tell if you're being sarcastic, but yes, I would," Senescey said. "Speaking for myself, I've learned all I need to know about which parts of my old information are dated and which are still relevant."
"Sarcasm? Me?" Papyrus gave a rude grin. "We've got a name and a hobby for the local honcho. High Consul Tarunda, patron of the fine arts? I've already got half a dozen ways we could use this, and if you sit tight until tomorrow morning I'll have a dozen more."
Senescey sighed. "Right. Glad you're enjoying yourself. Do try to keep in mind that manipulating royalty won't matter until we determine how safely we can show our faces to the general public." She tapped an editorial pointedly. "Read this one again. Where they're making fun of 'lawless northern states' for needing curfews? Whether they're exaggerating or not, that probably means they don't have curfews here. And that, taken together with the complete lack of mention of sarosians anywhere else, means we're probably no longer occupying a prominent space in public thought."
"Could be because you're all dead," Papyrus pointed out.
"Thank you for noticing," Senescey grunted, "it's a good thing that's not the fault of anyone here. Regardless, at the very least I don't think we have to worry about any paranoid countermeasures to getting around by shadow sneaking."
Papyrus winked. "Just like the good old days."
Senescey ignored him, watching a dressed-up guard standing by a gate in the distance instead. "Your competence permitting, I'd like to take advantage of this and check out the city at night. What's your opinion on that guard's posture?"
"The one with the spear?" Papyrus craned his neck. "Everlaste colors, real pretty boy face? Not too serious, loves his job, expensive training but little experience. I could wipe the floor with him if I played dirty. Hard to tell if he's just here for show or because someone moved all the veterans elsewhere, but I'd wager the former. The civilians are certainly at ease around him."
"My gut says the same," Senescey muttered. "I'm curious what the guard presence here looks like when the civilians are sleeping and there's no one to put on a show for. Do they really feel that safe here, or are they just showing off?"
"Well, there's an easy way to find out!" Papyrus kicked back and stretched. "But while we wait for night to set in, want to go check out the old tournament arena? If this High Consul really is sponsoring sunset thespian revelry in a public venue, I bet we could get a look at him in person."
"Yes, let's," Senescey agreed, folding the newspaper and unfurling her wings. "If it's state-sponsored art, we might learn a thing or two from the kinds of content they allow in their performances."
By air, the island took mere minutes to traverse, its dense architecture and steep, mazelike streets passing with every wingbeat. The sun was low on the horizon, reddening the sky and casting the entire city in the shadow of its own walls - except for the tower keep and the outer walls themselves, which gleamed like a beacon with light reflected off the waters.
In Papyrus's former life, the Empire had played host to a yearly fighting tournament, its progressive rounds spanning months and generating some of the best entertainment a noble could wish for. The affair had been a venue for all sorts of cheating, a not-so-secret contest of bribery skills playing out behind the battles themselves, drawing ponies and griffons and more exotic creatures frequently endowed with abilities beyond the fruits of simple training. More relevantly to him, it had also been a one-stop shop to track down power brokers and the strongest of the strong. And because everyone already expected everyone else to be playing dirty to rig the tournament, he could pursue whatever goal he wanted and no one would suspect him of anything more than being a garden-variety tournament cheater.
Ironic, then, that he was once again heading to the Stormhoof colosseum that hosted the majority of those tournaments, flush with ulterior motives, in hopes of getting a peek at the powers that be.
It was almost as if twenty years had passed, the Empire had fallen, and nothing had changed.
The arena was a huge, bowl-shaped structure occupying an entire sector of the island, situated south of the keep. Open to the air, it was rimmed by a wall that held corridors and concession stands and private boxes for deep-pocketed parties. Beneath that was tiered seating, a long, steep ring of it that made up most of the arena's structure. At the bottom was a final drop surrounding the flat central fight pit, its walls offering two corridors for the fighters to enter from, along with the windows of the true VIP boxes. Twelve of them, one for each lord... not that the Empire had had twelve noble houses or even twelve provinces for more than a hundred years before Papyrus was born.
As they flew in, taking in the view from above, Papyrus saw that once again, not much had changed. Down in the pit, the fight platform was gone, replaced with a bigger and fancier yet much less durable theater stage. Much of the seating had been roped off, guiding patrons to sit in places in front of the stage now that it was no longer an omni-directional affair. And the crowd was tiny, numbering in the dozens rather than the thousands that would attend before. But, other than that, it was the same.
"Looks like we're just in time," Senescey said, pulling up beside him and observing the distant, colorful quadrupeds scurrying around and setting up the stage. "Let's get to the entrance. Flying in probably hasn't gotten less rude since the old days."
They spiraled down to the arena's main entrance - it had about five of those, so they just picked the closest. Just like before, there were no ticketing mechanisms, a wide-open tunnel through the wall joined to a bridge across a street below, open and visible and attractive to anyone who might come wandering by.
Unlike before, it wasn't terribly crowded. In fact, aside from an old couple who were slowly ambling their way in and a fancifully-dressed usher, Papyrus and Senescey were the only ones there.
The usher immediately caught their eyes and swaggered over with a posh, educated demeanor, offering a welcoming bow.
"Hi there," Senescey said, motioning for Papyrus to let her do the talking. "We heard that this was the place to be for evening entertainment?"
"Ahh," the usher sighed happily. "You've been guided well, my young friends. Are you perhaps new to the city, or merely to the arts? I don't believe I find your faces familiar!"
"The city," Senescey answered, nodding casually. "What's the entrance fare?"
"Free of charge!" The usher flourished his robe. "A gift to the cultured masses, by decree of His Radiance. Go on, help yourselves to any seats you desire ere the performance begins! It is your privilege as those with the tastes to appreciate fine art."
Papyrus winked, Senescey curtsied, and both strolled on past.
"Well, he seemed to think of us as royalty," Papyrus remarked once the usher was out of earshot. "I gather that this consul fellow really wants us here. I wonder if it's for propaganda reasons, or if he just thinks that highly of his own tastes."
"And anyone who shares them?" Senescey raised an eyebrow. "Guess we'll find out."
After a lengthy climb down the side of the colosseum, they reached the populated area around the rim of the inner pit. The crowd was just barely sparse enough to leave front-row seats, and Papyrus was fairly sure they snagged the last available pair that were side by side - he wasn't sure how he felt about sitting too close to speculate with Senescey without being overheard, let alone right next to a stranger, but there would be plenty of time for clandestine chitchat later. For now, he had plenty to watch.
Something that stood out almost immediately was the age demographic present. There were roughly forty years that were completely unrepresented in the crowd; everyone here was either under thirty or over seventy. That went for the performers setting up down below, too. Immediately to his left was a wimpy-looking colt of about fourteen who seemed to be here on his own, and the most common sight of all seemed to be couples in their early twenties. No griffons mixed with ponies, either. They all obeyed Garsheeva's old dating rules.
Down in the pit, preparations were finishing up. Stage hooves were beginning to turn the lighting on, a narrator in full costume waiting visibly in the wings to step up and perform his introductions. And just before the stage, a delegation had arrived and swiftly set up seating that was more posh and ornate than what was available above, and now a procession of ponies in armor were marching in to fill it.
This was not functional armor. Flush with House Everlaste colors and regalia, it had so many smoothly-interlocking parts that a single hit from any blunt weapon could immobilize half of it, assuming said weapon didn't get tangled in their massive capes. Indeed, it looked more suited to a masquerade ball than combat, sporting long, hefty cravats and high collars and shapes molded after idealized physiques. Whoever had commissioned this had a strongly opinionated fashion sense, and no time for anyone who told them they were wrong.
Eleven Consuls in all took up their seats, leaving one seat conspicuously free - there was no way these ponies were anyone else. And they were all ponies, too, not a single griffon in sight. Papyrus frowned, scrutinizing them closer: one of them had a slightly different demeanor than the rest, though from this far away he couldn't put a feather on why.
And the theater didn't leave him much time to speculate. As the sky faded and twilight settled in, the last Consul took up their seat, the narrator took to the stage, and the play began.
For nearly three hours, Papyrus watched the performance with an interest that swiftly burgeoned into fascination. The actors in the pit were stitching together a historical drama from events six and a half centuries in the past: a period he himself had studied during his days as a prince. Granted, he had studied most of Imperial history, but in those days, the Empire's count of recognized provinces had dwindled to five, and those that had sphinxes on their thrones had fallen to three. According to all credible historians, it was the smallest point in history the sphinx population ever reached, the last twenty years notwithstanding, and the subsequent rebound triggered such a political realignment that the number of houses and provinces both returned to twelve within a single generation - the last time they would ever do so.
The play was remarkably well researched. And yet it wasn't a propaganda piece seeking to romanticize the Crown or the return of sphinxes: instead, all that history was simply a backdrop for the story of an entirely fictional and unassuming unicorn who awakened to the secret power of mind control, evaded the law, and went on a behind-the-scenes political rampage with astounding panache and a new gambit every minute. And in the end, all of their actions amounted to a state where history as it would have been recorded was exactly the history Papyrus had been taught. An unnecessary bonus that only the educated would understand.
He couldn't hide it. He was impressed. Some of the things this made-up unicorn came up with belonged to the same school of thought his old self had mastered. And while they weren't real, the playwright clearly was.
They were cunning. Bold, too, to present such an aggressive story of political subversion to the de-facto rulers of the land. And they almost definitely didn't have the powers their protagonist wielded, or that Papyrus himself once had. No way to make good on their fantasies save putting them to paper and then to the stage.
A quick glance at Senescey told him she wasn't enjoying herself quite as much as he was, but that was fine. Papyrus really had enjoyed the old days, much as he now knew the ruin his ways had led to. That old itch was still there, deep down, and scratching it in a theater was much more morally upstanding than ruining people in real life.
As he earnestly applauded, though, something else caught his eye: the loudest applause was coming from the Consuls themselves.
Huh. This wasn't the kind of story to feed your populace if you wanted them to be sated and contented with life under your rule, and yet they loved it. Weird...
He leaned closer, looking past the applause, and fully realized what he had started to suspect earlier: while all of the Consuls had liked the performance, most of them liked their special treatment even more. Special seats, public perception of them being cultured and refined... Only one of them looked like he would have settled for a seat among the crowd.
"Hey," Senescey whispered, nudging him as the applause began to die down. "Think you've seen enough? I need to stretch my legs something awful."
"I've got a hunch that one is about to give a speech," Papyrus muttered back, nodding at the one Consul he had singled out - a light blue unicorn with a bald forehead, wide chin and round, orange beard. "It would be a shame to have come all this way and then not hear him out, don't you think?"
Senescey grumbled and then settled back down.
And, true to Papyrus's prediction, the blue Consul did rise to his hooves, his horn flickering to life with a voice amplification spell. "Bravo, magnificent!" he praised, striding forth and mounting the stage in a single jump. "My friends young and old, we are all characters upon the great stage of the Griffon Empire. To live, to love, to suffer and struggle is the essence of our beauteous existences! And tonight, we lucky few who were here have born witness to something beyond value: the passion within sixteen young hearts, hearts who bared themselves to you by performing the truth of their own story. To the artists among us, both present and future... We salute you."
The entire theater troupe, from performers to stage hooves, lined up before him on the stage, facing the crowd. And, one by one, the Consul moved down the line, lifting and kissing their hooves.
Papyrus leaned in closer. This was the one who was the most earnest in his appreciation. A speech like this had to be made up, but was there a chance he wasn't faking it?
The Consul rose and turned to the audience once again. "How many here have defied a king? How many have controlled a mind? How many have turned the world itself against them in pursuit of what they know they must do? Unwise, impractical, not possible; the trappings of life resist these yearnings of the soul. But who among you can deny a desire to live this way, to live the same life in reality that we live inside our heads? My friends, reality is an imperfect medium for your perfect minds, but art transcends that limitation. And every one of you is a work of art."
Some in the crowd shifted, enough to catch Papyrus's attention.
"My friends," the Consul implored, "who has seen you as you truly are? Who has seen you as you have just seen these sixteen?" He swept a hoof out at the theater troupe. "Who do you wish could see you, in all the complexity and beauty of your true and precious selves? My friends, we are in a theater, a place for the expression of art. And so if that person is out there in the crowd, perhaps even seated right next to you, I implore you for one night only to cast propriety aside and show them the passionate truth of your heart, right now!"
The crowd was waiting for this. Scarce had the words left his lips before every couple in attendance, young and old, leaned together and embraced.
Papyrus folded his ears in fascination as everyone hugged their date. Most of them kissed. Unfortunately, all of them had the restraint not to go farther, but at least some of them clearly considered-
That colt in the seat next to him who was here on his own had clearly reached the part of the show he was here to see. And when Papyrus and Senescey both sat awkwardly in their seats without so much as a nose nuzzle, the colt gave them a look that said I waited three hours for this?
Papyrus glanced at Senescey. Her eyes were glazed over with a complex mental calculus, weighing the value of smoothly fitting in against the price of hugging Papyrus.
He was fairly sure that, if he made that call for her, she would play along with whatever he did, with the expectation that they would both swear never to speak of it again. And this situation was funny enough that it was almost tempting... Almost.
But he was a changed stallion, and so Papyrus summoned his convictions and did the right thing. "Kid," he said, giving the colt a weird look. "You'd better not be eyeing up my sister."
The colt's eyes widened in alarm as Papyrus flashed him a murderer's grin, and he tumbled half a seat backwards, trying to put some space between himself and Papyrus. Unfortunately, this involved bumping into the next couple over, both of whom had been stoically and intently ignoring him up until that point and now found themselves able to do so no longer.
Senescey gigglesnorted in relief, and then wasted no time in grabbing Papyrus and dragging him back up a row in the seats, where the aisle was clear enough that they could make a break for the exit.
Reluctantly, Papyrus dashed after her, just in case an incident was brewing in their wake. He really did want to hear more from that Consul. The stallion clearly wasn't in his right mind, but his particular brand of insanity would take a lot more thought to analyze, and if the worst he was going to do was encourage everyone around Papyrus to kiss... Well, Papyrus could be a much less intrusive audience member than that colt. But Senescey wanted out, and if this was a regular enough occurrence that the audience was expecting it, there would always be other days.
They stopped in the colosseum's outer wall, slinking off into the tunnels that led to the upper private boxes Gazelle had once doled out to friends as a prince. Senescey glanced around, satisfied herself that they were alone, and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"That," she said, "is something I thought was only supposed to happen in stories."
Papyrus scratched an ear. "Well, he did seem to want everyone to think of themselves like they were already in one. Discard your inhibitions, do things you'd never do in reality... We ought to be grateful all he wants people to do is make out in public. You and I both know how much worse of fantastic behavior he could have encouraged."
Senescey hesitated. "Thanks for not actually going along with that, by the way. I... didn't really expect that from you."
"What can I say?" Papyrus shrugged. "I've changed. Though, I'm trying to decide if I've changed enough not to ask if you wanted me to..."
"Not on your life," Senescey threatened, then deflated. "Anyway. Those Consuls are incredibly bad news."
Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "Is this oh no they're insane bad news or oh no I know something Papyrus doesn't bad news?"
Senescey gave him a serious look. "Being near them gave me the same feeling as dusk statues used to."
Papyrus felt his eyes widen. "The things the good old Night Mother used to use to telepathically speak with sarosians? We haven't perhaps fortuitously invented a new kind of dusk statue other than those you could be talking about instead?"
"The very same," Senescey whispered, regret and a hint of anger tainting her voice. "Also the dusk statues Chrysalis used to steal the minds of my entire race."
Papyrus narrowed his eyes. "There's no way that flabby Consul was Chrysalis. I knew her, she'd never talk the way he did."
"I knew her too, before she transformed," Senescey said, troubled. "But I also know what I felt. There was no mistaking it. I... suppose it might not even be the Consuls, but someone in that arena was controlling the Daydream Network."
"Which means...?" Papyrus tilted his head.
"We can't stay here," Senescey declared. "Not with so many sarosians on our team. I don't know what's happening, how someone has gotten access to that power again or what they're using it for, but it's inconceivable they don't know how it was used twenty years ago. My lease on life was renewed by random chance after it ended to this exact phenomenon twenty years ago, my sisters are somehow in the same boat, and the least responsible thing we could possibly do is set up shop somewhere it could happen again."
Papyrus slowly nodded. "What about myself and Floria? Think we're at risk?"
Senescey slowly shook her head. "You, probably not. But I wasn't around to remember the aftermath last time. How were sphinxes effected? I can't guess for Floria."
Papyrus rubbed his chin with a wing. "Mentally, I wasn't exactly present either. But I did survive, so presumably whatever Chrysalis did didn't hurt me. At least not in that way." He looked up. "Suppose I agree with your assessment. You would be the expert, and it does sound like those are risky stakes to tangle with. But this is frankly an enormous lead, and if we do want to take over the Empire, we're going to have to deal with whoever this is someday. Maybe not right now, but in the future we'll have to look at splitting the party so I can dig deeper here."
"Let's discuss that back at the ship," Senescey said, straightening up. "I don't want to risk being here for a moment longer than we need to be."
"Fine," Papyrus admitted. "I suppose that's the wisest choice. Though, you do know what a Consul usually is, right? Something tells me we're going to find more of these things no matter where we go."
Senescey shook her head. "They can't be everywhere. At the very least, I doubt there are any in the north, given what we read in the paper."
Papyrus shrugged. "Well, that'll be fantastic if it's true. Anyways, since I'm not at risk of spontaneous zombification, how about you head back first and I explore around for just a bit longer? We did want to check how the city is at night, after all."
"Knock yourself out," Senescey sighed. "Just don't get into too much trouble with no one around to save you? That's on you. Now let's get a move on."
They fell into a swift pace, heading for the exit to the tunnels and joining the sparse crowd on the way - it seemed that while they had been talking, the Consul's speech had wrapped up and the event was now over. But right when they were nearing the final arch, starry sky visible beyond, Senescey hesitated... and by the time Papyrus realized why, the orange-bearded Consul was staring them down.
Papyrus hesitated too. What was he doing here at the mouth of the arena? At first glance, he was just mingling with the patrons on their way out. Could that be all there was to it?
"Hey, you!" the Consul called out, striking up a swift march toward him and Senescey. "I saw you in the front row, and I don't think I've gotten to greet you yet!"
Papyrus glanced at Senescey. Was she still feeling the Daydream Network's effects here, now that this guy was close again? A quick look at her face said she definitely was.
But at the same time, they were in public. At least two dozen other theater-goers were within eyesight and earshot. The Consul couldn't possibly do anything to her here and get away with it, and Senescey clearly knew that. So, following her lead, Papyrus walked casually forward to meet him.
"Hi," Senescey said, allowing her voice to waver uncertainly. "You're the Consul?"
"High Consul Tarunda!" He grasped her hoof and shook it earnestly, then gave Papyrus the same treatment. "I haven't seen either of you before at my shows! Did it live up to your expectations?"
His eyes were blocky and his forehead large, and he gave them each a smile that was slightly mad, in a friendly way. Papyrus quickly decided that it was better to err on the side of too much enthusiasm than too little.
"I found it to be quite smashing," he primly declared, putting on a slightly mad smile of his own and standing close to Senescey. "She and I are passing through town, and we didn't quite know what our entertainment for the night would be, but you can't live the good life without a little gambling, right?"
Tarunda gave them a deep belly laugh. "Just passing through, eh? Where are you kids from? The greener pastures of the middle Empire, or did you come down to get a taste of civilization from the north?"
"Please." Papyrus dismissed him with a wave of a wing. "You clearly appreciate a good story. What would be the fun of spoiling a surprise like that?"
"Ah, so there's a story to it, then," Tarunda mused, stroking his beard. "There's a story to everything, not that most can appreciate them. But the ones who do, even the ones who make an effort to without finding success, they have a special place in my heart. It's a big, scary world out there, and not everyone thinks about appreciating the beauty in everyone they meet. I hope my little speech wasn't too flowery for the likes of you, by the way. I've got my regulars down in the Stormhoof art scene, and I know what they like, you know!?" He guffawed for good measure.
"I wouldn't sweat it too hard," Senescey cut in, still nervous. "As long as you're not offended that we didn't accept your invitation at the end."
Tarunda waved a hoof. "Oh, don't sweat it. I'm surprised that many people get into it in the first place. But hey, speaking of invitations, and of beauty... You say you're just passing through, and I wouldn't want to twist your hoof into changing plans on my account. But you in particular..." He nodded approvingly at Senescey. "With a body like yours, you could get a great position at the castle. A lot of people say it's what's inside that matters, but they don't realize you can be beautiful on the inside and on the outside, too. We frequently need ladies to stand around on ceremony and look good. And the compensation is highly negotiable."
Senescey hesitated. "You're extending a high-paying job offer to someone you just met, on basis of looks alone?"
Tarunda shrugged. "Some find it a bit archaic, I'm aware. But the interview process is nothing but my eyes, lass. Talent's got nothing to do with it when all I need is your body and your time. It's like renting out an art piece to put on exhibit. And since every living creature is one of a kind, it just seems right that this commands a price they get to set for themselves, don't you think?"
Senescey took a step back. "No offense, but are you certain this is only about standing around and getting looked at? Because if you're selling what it sounds like you're selling, which by the way you're very bold to do in public, I'm really not that desperate."
"Such is life." Tarunda shook his head and started to turn away. "You kids have safe travels, alright? And remember, highly negotiable means highly negotiable. You get yourselves into a scrap or find something you really, desperately need, don't forget that no one else will place a higher value on what you've got to trade than old Tarunda."
And then he moved on to greet other patrons, leaving Papyrus and Senescey alone. Neither of them wasted any time in getting out of there.
"So," Papyrus said, as the two of them settled down on a high-up crenelation that was both suitably private and would make it easy to spot the next flyby of their ship. "He wanted what I think he wanted from you, right? Dare I ask how old he thought you were?"
"I don't know," Senescey said, troubled. "I do know what you're thinking. And if that's really all he wants, we did stoop to that plenty of times in the old days. But before you make a joke about me being secretly over forty, stop and think about what I just told you. I can tell what he is. If he can tell what I am... He could be in the market for something much more sinister than a pleasure mare."
Papyrus frowned. "You think he knows you were an assassin?"
"That's not what I'm talking about," Senescey said, sternly shaking her head. "He could know I'm a sarosian. A changeling."
Papyrus blinked.
"You remember what Lilith was doing in Ironridge," Senescey said. "What she was using me for in her experiments. Chrysalis took over too many sarosians when she attacked the Empire. The world's population of my kind is no longer stable. We can't reproduce as mindless drones, and we're barely even able to keep up our own numbers, let alone have extra children for her and her minions to use to replenish the swarm. So what would happen if someone in the Empire, some... other changeling queen, as preposterous as it sounds to say, awakened to their powers and wanted to use them in an environment where everyone who responds to those powers is extinct?"
Papyrus's eyes widened.
"He wants my body, and my time. Everything else is irrelevant." Senescey hardened her gaze. "I don't know why he didn't just take me by force, but he's trying to buy my service as a vessel."
"That's a rather big I don't know," Papyrus pointed out.
"I know," Senescey sighed. "And none of the explanations I can think of make sense."
"Yes, why doesn't he just devour your soul..." Papyrus mused. "Given the state of imperial royalty in our own day and age, I can see why this idea might not fly, but what if he's a semi-decent enough person?"
"Decent enough to try to buy it instead of outright stealing it," Senescey scoffed. "We're operating atop the world's least-sturdy tower of assumptions right now, but the process of accumulating the kind of power she did cost Chrysalis every shred of her sanity and decency, whatever she possessed before all that to begin with. And the Night Mother was a cold-hearted manipulator. If this is some third party who can do the same - or, worse, one of those two in the flesh - then I think it's safe to assume them being truly decent is off the table."
Papyrus narrowed his eyes. "Hold up, though. What if they don't have that much power? Mind still slightly intact, strong enough to use the network but not strong enough to forcibly take what isn't freely given?"
Senescey sat up and blinked.
"Would you be able to tell the difference?" Papyrus asked. "If you were near someone who could kill you with a thought, or if you were near someone who had the type of power to do that but not the magnitude, could you tell them apart?"
"I... don't know," Senescey said, mulling over his words. "And I don't know how we'd safely find out. But you could be on to something."
Papyrus shrugged. "Progress does demand risks. And, frankly, we've already risked being in his presence quite a bit tonight. And if he was willing to let you walk away now, it's not impossible we could try pressing a little deeper."
Senescey closed her eyes. "Well, we've sure done a good job at taking this slowly and building a solid foundation to base our plans from. I still think we should run and try our luck somewhere else. We have an opportunity here, but no fallbacks. Pressing on in this direction would be a gamble, and if we lose, it wouldn't be the pack our bags and go home kind of loss... At least, not for me. And I want to live."
"Do you?" Papyrus asked her. "Do you really?"
Senescey gave him a peeved look. "What kind of question is that?"
"It's just..." Papyrus tapped his forehooves together. "There are a whole lot of ways to live that don't involve trying to take over the Griffon Empire. If that's really your top priority, then we shouldn't be here."
Now Senescey looked taken aback. "Are you really offering to base a decision around what I want?"
Papyrus gave a mysterious grin. "Wasn't that how I said our new contract would go, back in the Crystal Empire?"
Senescey frowned. "No, you said... If it didn't work out, we were just going to go our separate ways."
"I think you said that part," Papyrus pointed out, "and if I delight in anything, it's surprising people. Now be honest with me, old chum: what do you really want? To try out your ideas for a new model of governance in some distant, hypothetical and extremely unlikely future in which we take over the Griffon Empire, at severe risk to life, limb and reputation along the way? Or to live?"
For a long while, Senescey was quiet, and Papyrus waited.
"When we made our deal," she eventually said, "I didn't realize Felicity was still alive."
Papyrus nodded along.
Senescey swallowed.
"And?" Papyrus gently prompted.
"You're not the person I'd prefer to talk about this with," she said flatly. "Frankly, nobody is. But I have no desire to lose my sisters again. I also have no desire to cast aside the meaning I found, all those years ago. You can't fathom what I've been through, Papyrus. The things I've been through, the way I grew up... You know about self-inflicted demons, but you haven't suffered at the hooves of others the way I have. I do want to live. If I die, having achieved nothing, my life will have been meaningless. But I've been pursuing my goals for years before I discovered you were still alive. And I had every intention of sticking with you only as long as it served them, and getting right back to my own work after we parted ways."
She swallowed again, and continued. "So, it's two against one. I could stay out of this, and protect both myself and my sisters. Or I could go in, and gamble with no contingencies. It seems like a clear decision. For now."
"Well, then as a true and loyal friend I support your decision with all of my heart!" Papyrus theatrically bowed, ruining the moment with a well-timed wink.
Senescey gave him a look. "Are you being serious?"
"No, and I'm also not being honest," Papyrus told her with a smile. "But I will do it. Unless you come out right now and tell me you actually want me to play devil's advocate and talk you back into this, I feel like it would make a great capstone to our adventure today for us to fly off into the night in perfect agreement about what not to do next. Don't you?"
Senescey stubbornly looked away. "If you have something actually useful that you think I'm overlooking, go ahead and spit it out."
"Well," Papyrus began, more than ready for this, "you're calling this an opportunity with no contingencies in place, and waltzing up to our fat bearded friend and telling him you'll take the job certainly sounds like something we'd want a contingency for. But something I haven't heard a peep about yet is what you'd actually ask for."
Senescey frowned. "Does it matter if I'm not willing to pay the price?"
"Perhaps," Papyrus said. "Because if you don't have anything to ask him for, then it's not much of an opportunity, either. On the other hoof, Fatso could have yoinked you, and he didn't. And he offered you anything, and we don't quite have a guarantee it will end badly if you say yes. For all we know, we've completely misread the situation, and he really does just want a questionably-legal pleasure mare who's secretly a shapeshifter in her forties. Or even a wallflower! So the way I'm seeing this isn't as an opportunity without a contingency, but a contingency without an opportunity."
Senescey narrowed her eyes in thought.
"If we set up shop here," Papyrus pointed out, "we'd have a standing offer to fall back on, from someone powerful enough to bail us out of quite a bit of trouble. Now, we might not want to use that offer, but it's better than having nothing at all."
Senescey listened, lashing her tail.
"Furthermore," Papyrus went on, "you've just seen reasonable evidence that the old magics are still active in the Empire today, and it's an open question who's behind it. What if we run into it in other provinces? If we're so scared of gambling when it comes to strangers in possession of instant death magic, which is admittedly a very risky thing to gamble on, wouldn't we be gambling by trying our luck somewhere else that they don't have a more hostile resident user? Fatso might be shady, but the worst thing he's done is said please."
"You've... got some good points," Senescey said. "Papyrus, be honest: do you think I'm losing my nerve here because I'm worried about my sisters getting taken?"
Papyrus raised an incredulous eyebrow. "You're asking for candid insight into your own emotions from me? Perhaps we should have kissed back in that theater after all!"
Senescey instantly slapped him.
"Ow," Papyrus said. "Well, I have no idea. If I was trying to use them to manipulate you... I'd consider them a potent tool, but I'd try to keep a failsafe, just in case. That's as far as my expertise goes with these sorts of things. And I'll have you know that's a much more honest response than I'd give to any old stranger."
"It sounds like a cop-out," Senescey said, not meeting his eyes. "Give yourself a little more credit and try again."
Papyrus aggressively folded his ears. "Well, too bad, it's the best I've got."
She didn't answer, leaving him to dwell on that. Did she know what Discord had said, back on the airship? She had to, right? He probably clued her in, just so she could prod him. He must've...
Or maybe Discord just knew these kinds of questions would be in his future, and wanted him thinking about it before the fact.
Think, Papyrus. Try again...
"Yes," he said, subdued. "I suppose you are losing your nerve. Honestly, that might be a good thing. If I had something better to do with myself, I might do so as well."
"...Listen," Senescey eventually said. "Before I signed on with your crazy Griffon Empire plan, I spent all of my resources trying to track down Chrysalis. It's how I met Kitty, how I met Halcyon, how I got stuck in Lilith's lab, why I took Halcyon's writ and followed her south... I could never forgive Chrysalis for what she did. Not just for killing everyone, but for getting real power, the power to change things, and then wasting it on a tantrum before disappearing."
"You told me," Papyrus said. "Back in the Crystal Empire."
"Did I?" Senescey folded her ears. "Maybe I did. But it's not just been about revenge. I thought, if I could get that power for myself... Find out how she did it, take it from her, become a changeling queen or any other kind of god, I could do it right this time. Fix the world where she failed, and where the Night Mother failed before her."
Papyrus perked up just a little.
"It was a silly goal, wasn't it?" Senescey asked. "I knew that so long as I was a sarosian, even one who knows how to shapeshift, if I actually found her she could just kill me with a stray thought. None of my plans extended to how to keep going once I solved that first step, of discovering where she was hiding. I figured I'd start with what I could do, and take things one step at a time."
She turned away. "I never did find her. And now, completely by accident, I've found someone else who has a similar power. And look at me. Cold hooves, here at the moment of truth. And they haven't even tried to kill me yet."
Senescey let out a small laugh. "Give it to me straight, Papyrus: am I delusional? Is this offensive, even entertaining the possibility of getting that kind of power for myself after what happened to you? Have I just been chasing a goal all these years that was deliberately unattainable, in order to have something to do with myself? You say that a lot about what you're doing here in the Empire now, so if anyone would know, it would be you."
"Delusional? Completely and utterly," Papyrus said, something in his gut telling him to speak first and dress up his words later. "I certainly am. I just don't have anything better to do with myself. But from the sound of things, you do."
"You could come with us," Senescey offered. "Forget our ambitions and just stick together for the sake of it."
Papyrus chuckled. "Yes, your lives would be immeasurably enriched by my ceaseless crude jokes, and where would you all be without a nonstop source of stress for Floria?"
"I'm being serious," Senescey pointed out.
"To what end, though?" Papyrus pressed. "I'm being serious too. Unless I'm badly misreading this, you're trying to talk yourself into hanging up the sword. And we're going to need a new goal if I'm to earn my keep."
"There wouldn't be a goal," Senescey said. "I can't be certain. I'm still trying to find my own way here, Papyrus. But I think I'm starting to see what my sisters saw when we went our separate ways last time, at the end. They chased our goal far enough to see what really lay on the other side, and I'm only just catching up. Trying to fix everything wrong with the world, all by myself? It was a fantasy. And now that I've found them, if I get any closer to those powers I've been chasing, I'll just become another pebble in the river. Can you see it too? How little there really is behind whatever you think it is that keeps you going?"
"Yes," Papyrus griped, "no matter how much I try to look away. What are you on to?" He stared her in the eye. "Please. If you really think our problems are remotely comparable, if you think you know even a glimmer of the answer, then tell me."
Senescey shook her head. "I don't know anything. Three hours ago, I still thought my conviction was unshakable. Then, I thought I was going to die. Now, I think I've seen the end that my road leads to; the end I was ignoring all this time because I thought I'd find another way. For all I know, I'll wake up tomorrow with an epiphany and want to scream at myself for what a fool I was, throwing in the towel tonight."
She stared straight at him. "But that's for tomorrow me to worry about. Tonight... I don't have an answer, but I feel like following in the footsteps of the ponies who did find one, twenty years ago. My reasons not to feel so distant, out here. So what's stopping you from taking a chance on the future and doing the same?"
Papyrus wanted to say something about how vague she was being. About how it sounded like she didn't have a new plan to pursue, how it was pointless asking for his help in her next endeavor if she didn't have a next endeavor lined up. If she actually did, he suddenly realized he needed almost no coaxing to drop this Empire business and sign on, but this whole speech was just a fancy, dramatic way of saying, Hey, wanna go do nothing at all?
He tried to piece together a sensible way to phrase that protest. And before he could, Senescey said, "Exactly. That's the point."
"...Am I that easy to read?" Papyrus shrugged helplessly.
Senescey extended a hoof. "Come on, Papyrus. Take a chance on me. I might not know what I'm doing, but this feels cool, and that's a good sign. We both know our reasons for coming back to the Empire are just excuses. We don't need to risk our lives on some mission that neither of us believe in. And I'd be a bad friend if it turns out this is what you've been looking for all along, and I didn't share."
Papyrus squinted at her. "Delusion check: you're not asking me to do anything helpful, productive or in furtherance of any goals, be they yours, mine or anyone else's. You want me to tag along while you do whatever for the fun of it."
Senescey waggled her hoof at him. "And I'll probably wonder what got into me come morning. Maybe it was the atmosphere of that stupid play. Now take it!"
Papyrus took her hoof, took a deep breath, and stood up.
Senescey looked almost surprised as he did it, but she quickly replaced her expression with an uncertain smile.
"...Legitimate and very rude question," Papyrus warned. "Is this actually the part where we're supposed to kiss?"
"Uhh," Senescey said, staring at their touching hooves. "I'm going to go with, maybe? If that's really how you want this new partnership to work? But I've been in a lot of relationships, and I don't think I'd call it normal?" She tilted her head. "Do you actually like me?"
Papyrus winked, which at this point was thoroughly a show to cover up the fact that he had no idea how he was feeling. "Well, I've been in exactly one relationship, and it was just about the most abnormal one ever! In other words, I have absolutely no idea."
"In that case, let's not," Senescey said, shaking her head. "And if things change in the future, then that's the way it'll be." She sighed. "There's our airship, out there. I hope the others are relieved that we came all this way only to turn around, and not annoyed."
"We're the ones who actually wanted to do something here," Papyrus pointed out. "It'll be fine. Probably. Good thing we brought enough fuel to cover the return trip."
"We will have to figure out where we go next, won't we?" Senescey gave him a little smile. "But that's something everyone else should help with. Come on. Let's get back to the ship and let them know how things stand."
She took wing, and Papyrus followed suit, letting her set the course this time and taking his turn flying in her wake. His thoughts weren't buzzing, tamped down and muted by an emotion he wasn't familiar with, but neither were they frozen and unable to move.
Maybe this would be a good thing. He still wasn't sure what the plan even was, other than that there was no plan. The vibes were nice, though. With Meltdown, he had never felt this way.
Perhaps he should have kissed Senescey after all. But it would have been funny, and that wasn't the point. If he really wanted to be funny, he could have booped her instead. And who knew? Maybe Discord really had given him some special power he could bestow with that, and it would be a suitable thank-you for... whatever she had just done. He still didn't understand it.
But no. He didn't need that. Whatever had happened, however fast it was happening, Papyrus had a decent enough excuse to hope that he was on the right path: Senescey had said so. He could afford to trust her. It was certainly something he hadn't tried before. Why not see where it led?
Maybe he would finally be free.