Chapter Two - Private Pansy
Private Pansy fluttered along in a hurried manner, his Thunderforged armor clanking as he bounded up the marble staircase. Every so often the plates of the hard suit would rub against the burn on his left flank, making him wince. Filling his front hooves was a mountain of scrolls that Clover kept consulting with her lavender aura. As the three swiftly climbed the stairs and began to cross from the archives Clover had sequestered in, one or two of the scrolls fell out of his grip and landed by the wayside. Silently Pansy wished he too could fall by the wayside, and not have to face this creature that appeared from the aether.
“Such a creature has never been theorized before, let alone documented!” Clover yelled with that special brand of fury only a scholar could muster, “It bears traits of all three of the pony races. Alicornical formations alongside Pegasonical wings, madness! The bone structure of a Pegasus that's built for flight just doesn't mesh with the structure of a Unicorn's horn, it would be riddled with hollows and unable to properly channel the mana! And don't even get me started on the muscle mass! That kind of muscle should crush flight lightened bones! Sure, Pegasi have been known to have highly developed wing muscles, but the expense of muscle mass elsewhere! She had the body of the Terran Caballus, albeit a very tall one...”
She was starting to speak in Latin. Soon she would simply start foaming at the mouth unless somepony interrupted her. Pansy had seen it before. It was not pretty. Luckily Smart Cookie, ever the pragmatist interrupted with, “Maybe she is who says she is.”
“What? A Sun god? I thought you were better than that, Cookie!”
“Look, all I’m saying is that its looking to be the easiest explanation right now. The easiest answer is usually the best one. I seem to recall you having some argument about shaving for it?”
Clover rolled her eyes, “That would be Ock Ram’s Razor, but just because it is easier doesn’t mean it allows the impossible. There are no gods, Smart Cookie.” She stamped her hoof with hard on the stone tile. “Stinking Heretic’s 14th theorem proves that! You all can defy whatever Heretical law you like with whatever ‘harvest traditions’ you have down there in the valleys, but the Sun is not a god, no more than the moon is! It is simply a massive ball of superheated plasma arcanely held together since time immortal!”
It was Cookie’s turn to roll her eyes apparently. “Yeah, simple.”
“You know what I mean, Cookie. It cannot be what it claims to be, therefore it is lying, therefore I must find out the truth!”
They crossed the long hallway of portraits and statues, finely gilded and studded with precious stones, just as much of Unicornia was. Each Unicorn depicted seemed to be of whiter coat than the last. Large windows let in the light of the morning sun making the whole hall sparkle. No doubt whoever it was who had decorated had intended for this effect. The stone was whiter than that of the fluffiest clouds, Pansy noted. But unlike the good cloud architecture of his home, the whole hall resonated with every step the others took. The three were alone as they made their way through the opulence. No doubt everypony of importance had fled, while they went deeper into the dragon’s den.
“I think she is a she, Clover, not an it.” Pansy’s input was ignored by the flustered unicorn, perhaps due to its low volume.
“Perhaps it was created from some sort of spell.” Pansy often wondered how Clover could keep so many thoughts going at the same time. “That would help explain the incredible aura. Or perhaps some sort of high level illusion?” Sometimes he thought her head must be like a game of Captain of the Cloud. Her ideas clashing and scrambling over each other for dominance. “But even the best illusion would show Bluffer’s radiation, at least afterward. Its clear it has some affinity to the plasmatic dominion, perhaps a chimaera with a pony and phoenix base? Ugh, but the wings are all wrong. And only its mane was fire!”
“Please lets not talk about the fire,” but his words were once more ignored by the other two. Pansy had somewhat gotten used to that. The line of Pansy was a proud and noble one, but he was the black cloud of the family. Only Commander Hurricane had ever really seen the potential in him. Perhaps that was why he had been assigned her assistant.
“No, there is only one thing for it. A thorough and detailed physical and metaphysical examination.” Clover was getting that fire in her eye, Pansy could see.
“Clover,” Cookie began, “all we’re ‘supposed to do is talk with it. Find out what it really wants. Get it to go away.”
“Go away!?” Clover suddenly halted causing Pansy to run into her at the base of the stair leading up the tower. More scrolls bounded down the carpeted stairs to join their companions in the papyrus and parchment trail leading from the archives. “This could be the greatest find in cryptozoologic history! What if it is one of a race? What must their land be like? What kind of society do they have? There is so much we could learn!”
“Like why it’s here an’ why it wants to be our ‘diarch.’”
“Precisely!” The three they finally stopped before a heavy oaken door at the top of the marble staircase. The room was one of the many royal apartments that littered the palace. Specifically it was the one that was the furthest from anywhere else. There was no guard posted at the entranceway. Every guard Clover had tried to assign the position had threatened to resign rather than stand before that doorway. In the end, Clover had to go on the creature’s word it would remain there for them to return.
Private Pansy pushed open the thick oaken door. Inside the opulent room was awash in the dawning light. True to her word, the creature who had dubbed herself Solarius was laying on a mound of velvet cushions. She was far too large to lay on any of the delicate furniture scattered around the apartment. She was no longer on fire, nor was she as brilliant as she had been. Her mane had become one of ordinary hair, pink in hue, like that of the dusk sky. Upon her flank she bore a strange mark, that of a drawing of the sun, yellow and gold upon the white sky of her coat. He hadn’t gotten the chance to look at her so closely earlier, in all the panic. Clover had told him of the Zebrican races who would bleach and scar their hides with dyes and inks, using their bodies as an artist would canvas. Mayhaps this mare did the same?
Before the mare was a bowl of fruit filled to the brim. She idly plucked plump and juicy grapes off of the vine and ate them, seeds and all. As she picked them they glowed in an aura much like Clover’s, only her’s was of a golden translucence. As she ate, her eyes wandered to the window, towards something in the distance. Her words broke the silence like a stone shattered the ice on a frozen pond.
“It took you three long enough, I thought you would argue about me all day. Is it customary for all you to talk that loud?” It was disconcerting how she spoke, how mechanical and forced the words sounded. She finally turned her head from the window, coral eyes piercing.
Clover did her best to put on a cheerful face, “Yes... Well, Miss Celestia...”
“What is the highest title your race offers?” She interrupted. Her voice was like bells, hollow and resonant. On the surface it seemed fine enough, though there was something disconcerting in those tones, like the iron bells the Earth Ponies would ring during a burial.
Clover thought about what it had said for a moment, “Well I suppose the highest title would be Princess as Commander and Chan...”
Interrupted once more, “Inadequate, but it will suffice for now.”
It was Pansy who spoke up this time, “What will suffice?”
“That title,” she coldly returned, “You should call me Princess Solarius, or Your Highness as the situation suits.”
Clover was obviously flustered by this, “Now see here! You can’t!...”
Smart Cookie and Private Pansy moved as one and quickly stopped the irate unicorn. Pansy hurriedly stammered out a, “Of course, Your Highness, of course,” while jamming a hoof in Clover’s muzzle. The scrolls had scattered all over the floor and they rustled like dried leaves as they dragged Clover back to the door, “You’ll excuse us one moment Princess.”
Behind the door, Cookie was the first to begin berating Clover in an angry whisper. “Just what in tarnation do you think you’re doing?”
“It can’t just declare itself princess,” Clover responded in as hushed a tone, “You don’t do that!”
“Look, it don’t much matter what she is wants to be called now does it? Lets humor her, alright?”
“Why should I? She is disgracing the title.”
“Why should you? You saw what happened to them pegasus fellers who had disagreed with her in the throne room.” Too late she realized the words she had just said.
Pansy’s hooves went slack as that morning suddenly rushed back in frightening detail. Four of the bravest Pegasonian Knights I’ve ever known, Pansy thought, reduced to ashes in glowing plate. Tears began to well up in his eyes. Their Thunderforged Lances melting like candle wax in that beast’s fury. Sir Nimbus first, then Lady Stratos, followed by General Havok, and finally, in a croaked whisper, “Father.”