//------------------------------// // Finding Ones Worth // Story: Canterlot: Her Creation and Her Architects // by vren55 //------------------------------// Finding Ones Worth Chartres had shut her eyes and given herself up to Faust when the cliff had given out under her. She had prayed desperately for her death to be quick. That she would go to the Golden Plains quickly and not meet the reaper. So imagine her shock when she felt something wrapping a leg around her. Opening her eyes, she saw Barbican, one hoof wrapped around her, his wings flapping furiously. A feeling of relief briefly filled Chartres’s heart, until she realized why he was there. "Why did you go after me? You’ll die!” screamed Chartres. Barbican didn’t turn to face Chartres, but wove through the storm of rock like a trained weatherpony. “No pony is going to die on my watch!” said Barbican. With a twist of his powerful wings, the pegasus spun right, narrowly missing a massive granite block. It was then that they them saw Spire. The earth pony was in free fall screaming like a newborn colt, his hooves waving uselessly in the air. Barbican responded by angling his wings and diving towards Spire. Within moments he was at his side, but the barrier of flailing hooves stopped the pegasus from coming closer. “Stay still you madpony!” said Barbican with a growl. Spire’s eyes unlocked and his limbs froze in surprise, allowing Barbican to slide above him and grab him with his other hoof. The trio were still falling very quickly though, and through final rays of the setting sun, they could see the ground beneath. In response, Barbican spread his wings and winced as several feathers were torn from them. The difference was noticeable and their descent slowed rapidly. “Your wings! Stop Barbican! You can’t take both of us!” said Spire. Barbican grunted, his eyes narrowed in focus. More feathers were separating from Barbican’s wings and the appendages themselves were being pushed by the screaming pressure of the air. Chartres knew the pegasus couldn’t take it any longer and closed her eyes. “Drop me! I’m just a burden!” screamed Chartres. Spire turned to her, disbelief written across his face. To Barbican though, the command only seemed to invigorate him further. “NEVER!” roared Barbican and despite everything his instincts were screaming at him not to do, the pegasus pulled up. The drag was immense and the g-forces that Barbican pulled were sending the blood to his hooves, but he persevered. His wings were on fire, but Barbican knew he had suffered worse than this. With a roar of triumph, and two gasps of disbelief from his passengers, Barbican pulled into a level flight and began to hover. “I did it,” said Barbican as he began to wearily flap down towards the nearby ground. The pegasus hadn’t felt such intense satisfaction and pride in ages and a wide smile broke upon his face. Chartres nodded in disbelief, Spire was about to follow suit, but instead roared: “LOOK OUT!” A final boulder, last in the pack, a little smaller than the head of an average stallion, had been dislodged at the last moment. It tumbled down, bouncing off the side of the mountain like a wooden ball across turf. It landed a glancing blow on Barbican’s right wing with an ear-numbing, WHUMF. Barbican’s jubilant smile crashed into a howl of agony. Reflexively, his right wing snapped to his side and as a result, they fell. The avalanche had finally ended. It had seemed like an eternity, but it really had only been over a minute. With a groan, Celestia lowered her shield and sat down, hard. Still trembling, Vaultaire looked to her friend, who all of a sudden, seemed to reflect her proper age. White Tower stood on the edge of the path, her dark blue eyes staring at the column of dust that had been raised below. “Barbican?” whispered White Tower. “Barbican, get your lazy flank up here or I’ll...” White Tower shook her head in denial, despite the tears forming in her dust-free eyes. “BARBICAN!” screamed White Tower. The mare took a step into thin air, but an aquamarine magic aura snatched her hindmost leg and dragged her away, kicking and screaming as she was. “White Tower, stay back!” ordered Golden Triangle, but despite his composure, his voice cracked and tears trickled down his face. Magic blazing, Golden Triangle poured more energy into the spell as White Tower flailed madly toward the edge. “I’m not losing him! I can’t lose him!” White Tower then found her legs pinned to her sides by Golden Triangle’s magic, but she continued to crawl like a worm. “I’m the Hero of Stalliongrad!” Golden Triangle dragged her back, but White Tower tried to roll instead. “I blinded a dragon for the love of Faust! LET ME GO!” Golden Triangle didn’t oblige and averted his blurry-eyed gaze from White Tower’s grief-stricken glare. Cursing her friend in language more fit for a pirate, White Tower began to repeatedly slam her head against the ground. “I’m supposed to protect everypony!” she sobbed. Sa’id, gloomy for once in his life, his smile upturned, trotted to the edge of the cliff. Vaultaire moved to stop him from getting closer, but the earth pony cocked his head and blinked. “They’re alive,” said Sa’id. “Stop talking nonsense. He’s dead,” said Vaultaire dismissively. “No, they’re alive! I’m sure of it!” said Sa’id insistently. Vaultaire groaned, glad that Sa’id wasn’t going to throw himself off the cliff, but annoyed that he was still in denial. With a flap of her wings, Vaultaire flew back to Celestia. The princess had finally stood up, but her head was still hanging low. The alicorn looked older than ever and while her coat was still pristine white, it was as if a dark shadow had fallen over her. Her pink mane was flowing slowly, like running tears, and no longer shimmered. Vaultaire hated to ask her friend this, but right now, Celestia was the only one who could possibly hold the remainder of their group together. So, with a heavy heart, Vaultaire put a comforting hoof to the alicorn’s face. “Celestia, what do we do now?” asked Vaultaire, quietly. The alicorn’s sorrowful magenta eyes met Vaultaire’s green ones. “Let us leave. This mountain has brought us nothing but grief,” said Celestia. The other ponies nodded and at a slow, mournful trot, the defeated ponies retreated down the mountain. One pony though, Sa’id, returned to the edge for a moment. His brown eyes scanned the nearly indistinguishable pile of rock below him for a moment. “They have to be alive. OUCH!” said Sa’id. A pebble bounced off his head and the desert pony glared at the mountain. Then, he blinked and looked at his tail mystifyingly. “At least my tail stopped twitching. Wonder why it was doing that in the first place?” mumbled the desert pony as he continued after his companions, mournfully looking back to the ledge. Byzas groaned. He hurt all over. The stallion opened his eyes and saw that it was getting late. The sun was almost about to set. “Wait... I’m alive!” gasped Byzas. Raising himself up, Byzas took a good look at his surroundings. They seemed to have landed where the rocks from the slide had fallen. A lot of dust had been kicked up, but the earth pony could make out a white figure in the distance. “Barbican? Chartres?” called Byzas. The stallion picked his way carefully over the rocks, making his way to the figure. When he did manage to do so, Byzas was astonished. Barbican was not dead. His wing looked horribly bruised, ruffled and patches of his wings were featherless. In short, he was a wreck, but he was alive, though unconscious. As Byzas was about to approach him though, he saw a flickering blue light in the dust. “Who is that?” demanded Byzas as he stood protectively between whatever the light was and Barbican. “Spire? Is that you?” gasped a familiar female voice. Byzas’s eyes widened as a dusty, but otherwise unharmed Chartres trotted into view, her horn lit. “Thank-Faust-you’re-alright! Barbican’s-hurt-and-needs-medical-attention-immediately. The-others-probably-think-we’re dead, so-we’re-going-to-have-to-find-shelter ourselves,” said Byzas. Chartres blinked uncomprehendingly at Spire. “Sorry Spire, can you please say it again?” asked Chartres. Byzas groaned and repeated his statement, slowly. With a nod and a few words, Chartres lifted Barbican onto Byzas’s back with her magic and the three set off. Byzas leading the front and Chartres behind, watching in case Barbican slipped off the earth pony. For a long while, the two trotted through the dust cloud kicked up by the avalanche. “If we can’t see, we’ll never find shelter!” complained Byzas. Somepony above must have heard the former baron’s wish, for the wind suddenly picked up and the cloud began to disperse. Chartres breathed a sigh of relief, while Byzas did a tap dance with his front hooves. “Thank You Faust... oh horseapples,” gasped Byzas as a raindrop hit his cheek. The eyes of the two ponies widened and the hairs on their necks stood up as they noticed the growing storm clouds. The wind was wooshing and whistling around the mountain, picking at the ponies’ tails and Chartres’s mane, short as it was. Without a word, the two quickly sped up their search, trotting as fast as possible, less concerned about where they were going as for looking for shelter. Night had already fallen when the rain began to come down in force. They’d finally run out of the area of the rock avalanche and were at least on grass. However, the two ponies could barely see anything now. The barrage of falling water and the lightless night made looking for anything impossible. “Why is nothing going right today?” voiced Byzas, only to get a mouthful of water in response. “Wait, Spire over there!” said Chartres, pointing with her hoof. The two squinted with their eyes and to their joy, they noticed a small cave. Gleefully, the pair carefully carried their burden to it and to their relief, found the shelter uninhabited. Before they entered into the cave, Chartres scavenged some firewood from some nearby trees. It was a good thing she did, for the storm was now in full force. Gale force winds were battering themselves against the immovable mountain. Rain came down in floods and waves, cascading through the sky and onto solid rock. Seeing that Chartres had some wood, Byzas dug a fire pit, stuck the wood in and placed some rocks in a ring. “How are we going to light the fire?” asked Chartres. For a moment, Byzas stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Can you use your magic?” asked Byzas. Chartres’s head dipped for a moment and she winced. “Oh, you’re right, sorry for being stupid,” sighed Chartres. The unicorn concentrated and her horn glowed, but Byzas lifted a hoof to stop her. “Chartres, why-did-you... I-mean. Why did you call yourself stupid?” asked Byzas, a frown on his face. Chartres chuckled, but it was a half-hearted, forced and weak. “Spire, don’t worry I’m just silly sometimes, now let’s get the fire lit.” With that, Chartres pushed Byzas’s hoof down and a blue flame sparked on the wood. Soon there was a small fire. The two put Barbican as close as possible to it and then knelt down to examine him. “His wing is fine, but the muscle is badly bruised. He won’t be able to fly for a while,” said Chartres, carefully smoothing out Barbican’s remaining feathers. “How-did-you... Sorry. How did you know?” asked Byzas, a curious expression on her face. “Well... the wing itself seems to have retained its shape and I don’t hear any chafing of the muscle against the bone. There is some internal bleeding, but nothing too serious and it’s all concentrated at the impact point,” explained Chartres, gesturing to the spot on Barbican’s wing. “Basically you were intelligent enough to deduce his condition,” said Byzas, turning to face Chartres. Byzas’s normally relaxed purple eyes had taken a sharp, serious glint. When Byzas had been talking to White Tower, he had lied. His actual cutie mark of a paintbrush and ruler meant that he was more than just skilled at art. The ruler in the stallion’s cutie mark actually represented his ability to capture the measurements of any object or pony. For an arch, he could see if it was well made or if it was well proportioned. For a pony, every flick of the ear, every hesitant word, every trembling hoof, Byzas could measure it and interpret what it meant. There was no way Byzas couldn’t read minds, his measuring talent only allowed him to make and interpret physical measurements. All the same, it was an incredibly useful talent, giving him an edge over all portrait artists and why Princess Luna had picked him out of all the others. As Chartres hesitated under Byzas’s intense glare, the stallion had already completed his measurements. For the first time ever, Byzas looked at Chartres. The stallion ignored the alluring shades of her wet blue mane, her soft white fur and the eyelashes framing her teal eyes. And, he saw. “Well... yes,” said Chartres finally. Spire’s brow furrowed even more. “Then Chartres, why do you have such a low opinion of yourself?” asked Spire. Chartres felt her lower lip trembled imperceptibly, but flinched as she noticed Spire’s dagger like eyes lock in onto the movement and then back onto her. “I don’t...” “You do. Don’t deny it. I’m the idiot for not noticing it sooner,” said Spire, wiping his face with a hoof. “Spire... don’t say that...” stammered Chartres, trotting forward. “Then stop calling yourself one!” insisted Spire, his tone harsher than she had ever heard him. Chartres felt something within her clench in pain. Wincing, the unicorn averted her gaze. “Spire you’re tired, I think you need some sleep,” suggested Chartres, hoping to calm Spire down. In fact, the suggestion only seemed to incense the other pony more. “I’m not tired. I’m more alert than ever before and talking slowly for once. Chartres, if you keep thinking yourself useless, you will hurt other ponies...” Chartres’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and she moved. Before Spire could react, she swung her hoof and struck the stallion across the face. “Shut up! I’m not hurting anypony!” screamed Chartres. Anger, something she hadn’t felt in ages coursed through her veins. Spire looked shocked for a moment, then his eyes hardened. “You are! You could have said something in the first meeting, letting Golden Triangle and Vaultaire battle it out-” “I didn’t hear you say anything either!” interrupted Chartres vehemently. Spire nodded to concede the point. “So I didn’t, but as the subject of the argument, I probably would have made the situation worse. You, a neutral party could have made it better.” Chartres’s ears shot straight up as she noticed the logic behind Spire’s reasoning. “Then, when all your instincts told you that the swamp was dangerous, you say nothing, until we were in the middle of the thing!” Chartres felt her stomach plummet into what seemed like an abyss. She felt her teeth tighten and her eyes wet, while a choking sensation wrapped itself around her throat. “Finally, because you thought that you would somehow be a burden if you asked for a break, you let yourself get exhausted when you could have asked for one, allowing yourself to drift to the edge, forcing Barbican and I to jump after you and look where that’s got us now!” “SHUT UP!” wailed Chartres. Her mane and tail momentarily combusted into torch-like blue flames and her horn flashed as she wished for Spire to be sent away. Anywhere, anyhow, as long as it was away. Spire was picked up in a magic field and in a flash and fizzle, he vanished. Now alone, Chartres turned to the wall of the cave and stared at it, while her tears flooded down her cheeks like the rain outside. “He’s wrong! He’s wrong! I’m not hurting anypony!” sobbed Chartres. The unicorn had never felt so broken, shattered. The last time... she had felt so low, was when he had left her on that street. A slow, cautious trot interrupted her contemplations, followed by a weary voice. “Sometime, not too long ago, you were prideful, maybe even vain. You hide it well, but you bear yourself with hard-won dignity and your eyes are ever so lidded, showing you used to stare down on other ponies. You were looked to for advice. I remember when you were checking Barbican, your eyes were alert, not dull and subdued, and the prognosis was delivered with confidence.” Chartres was frozen to the spot, unmoving as rock, while Spire paused and took a deep breath. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but it was probably involved a stallion and it was a horrible betrayal of trust. Your confidence in all your abilities was shaken to the core and you resolved never to let anypony get close. Your timidity is a shield to prevent anypony, especially stallions from getting close or asking questions. You try to hide your face behind your mane, slash it haphazardly short and leave it unruly, because you didn’t want anypony wanting to pursue you.” Chartres shook her head fiercely, but it was a hopeless gesture that nopony would believe. “But the worst thing that bastard did - whoever he was - was that he made you feel guilty. You’re afraid that you let him down. You think his betrayal was your fault. You think that if you said one thing different, did one thing different, he wouldn’t have left you.” The unicorn silently mouthed ‘no’ again and again, but less desperately now. “That’s the true reason, isn’t it? If you didn’t say the right thing to him, how can you say the right thing to calm Vaultaire and Golden Triangle. If your instincts failed you so badly, how could you trust them? Maybe your complaints pushed him away. How did you know your pleas for a break would do the same then?” Chartres stared at Spire, eyes wet, mouth open. Heart filled with inexplicable horror and a twinge of denial. And yet, she felt as if a burden had been lifted off her chest. “How did you...” “I’m a good observer. As an artist, I’m good at picking out details.” Chartres raised an eyebrow, just for a moment, before she lay down on the cold ground. It didn’t really matter how Spire had known, because everything he had said was true. “And I’m a stupid, idiotic, selfish pony,” croaked Chartres. A warm hoof appeared on Chartre’s shoulder and she looked up to see Spire smiling comfortingly. “Don’t say that. You were smart enough to get firewood before the storm started. Your reasoning and observations with Barbican were accurate, to my knowledge. You know how to teleport. You are the kindest pony I have ever known. And, if Her Highness chose you, then she must have seen you have talent,” said Spire. Chartres was tempted to smile, but she turned away. “But that doesn’t excuse my mistakes!” moaned Chartres, guilt lingering in her heart. “You were badly hurt and you can’t blame yourself for him betraying you.” The hard glint returned to Spire’s eyes as he pursed his lips. “Lay all the blame on him because he deserves it.” Chartres blinked, surprised at Spire’s vehemence and at the same time, flattered by his support. Still, Chartres shook her head, she wouldn’t blame him, but now she knew not to blame herself as well. “No. I’m better than that,” said the unicorn. Standing up, Chartres looked Spire in the eye. He had been harsh, but she knew that the stallion was right. She had lived far too long in the fear of that moment. Chartres didn’t know if she could ever forget what he had done. However, she knew now she couldn’t let that dictate her life and for the first time in a long time, Chartres smiled. “Thanks Spire,” said Chartres and she nuzzled the stallion’s cheek, not noticing the furious blush that appeared on it. “Um-urgh-scuse-me-it-was-a-eh-hem-pleasure!” squeaked the stallion. Barbican stirred as he heard shouting and then talking from two ponies, yanking him out of his deep sleep. His right wing ached, a dull throbbing pain that wouldn’t go away. At least he felt quite warm. “Where am I?” groaned Barbican, opening his eyes. “Barbican!” said Byzas, Chartres not far behind him. Both of them were smiling joyfully at the stallion’s consciousness. “Thank Faust you’re alive. What happened?” asked Barbican, his eyes examined his surroundings. They seemed to be in a cave and had a fire going. But what was that pitter-patter in the distance? “You were hit by a stone before you were able to land and fainted. We managed to move you to this cave, before the storm set on,” explained Chartres. Barbican’s ears trembled suddenly and he felt a sense of panic within him. “Did you say storm?” As if to punctuate his statement, there was a flash of lightning and an ear-splitting thunder-crack that caused the trio’s hearts to beat ever so faster. “Where are Her Highness and the others?” asked Barbican apprehensively. Byzas turned to Chartres, who wore the exact same expression of bemusement. “We’re not sure,” admitted Byzas. Barbican scrambled to his aching hooves and before Byzas and Chartres could stop him, racing for the entrance of the cave. Immediately, Chartres cast a spell and Barbican’s hooves felt as if Ten Ton Horseshoes had been attached to them. (1) “Barbican, you’re badly hurt and not thinking straight. Her Majesty might have teleported everypony off the mountain. Besides, I’m not allowing anypony in your condition out there,” said Chartres firmly. Barbican futilely tried to move his hooves, but all he could manage was to drag them across the ground, only to find his path blocked by Spire. “Barbican, you don’t even know where they are, where we are! We’re not letting you out!” said Byzas. The desperate, white-faced, teeth bared and ear flattened look that Barbican returned to Byzas caused the stallion to take a step back. “What if the Commander didn’t have enough magic to teleport everypony after shielding everypony from the rock slide? They’d be stuck and in this weather. Even Her Highness will have trouble! I have to get out there!” roared Barbican. “And what if you die trying to save them?” replied Byzas calmly, not believing how stubborn this pegasus was. Why did every pony around him seem bent on sacrificing themselves to save some greater good? “Then I will die trying to save them! My life is not worth living if I let down my fellow ponies! Tell me Spire, have you ever failed a pony you’ve cared about? Swore to support them and then abandoned them? Lied to them!” demanded Barbican. Byzas cringed, as he thought of Laurel and her wasteful tears before he faked his death. He remembered Her Highness Princess Luna and her anger. He had tried to reassure her, but no matter what he did, nothing helped. One fateful day, while painting a rising sun, he had seen the moon suddenly rise and he knew he had failed. “Yes, but...” Barbican jumped onto this opening like a frog onto a lily. “HAH! I knew it! You selfish bastard, only caring about your own hide!” said Barbican with a sneer. That caused Byzas to paw his hooves at the ground and growl. “You know nothing you pompous self-righteous prick!” retorted Byzas. Barbican laughed hysterically with wild eyes, but Chartres noticed the tears forming at the edge of them. “Oh it’s you who knows nothing about failing other ponies and I who knows everything about it!” said Barbican as he strained his muscles and attempted to move his hooves. Byzas was about to throttle Barbican, but what was said next paralysed both enraged stallions. “The Everfree Massacre... that was your failure, wasn’t it Barbican?” asked Chartres, mouth open in realization. The jaws of both stallions dropped open in surprise. “That’s why you were screaming at the trees to ‘Give me back my lancers!’. It was your worst memory. It forced you to relive Nightmare Moon’s ambush,” said Chartres. Barbican’s mouth shut and he sat on his haunches, his face slumped in defeat. “It wasn’t an ambush. It was a trap. Nightmare Moon lured us into the forest, onto our own territory and used it against us. The signs were there and it seemed too good to be true, but I didn’t see it.” Barbican’s head drooped down even lower as Chartres and Byzas stared at him in astonishment. “The rest you know. The 1st Equestrian Lancers were cut down in droves and the rest of my pegasi barely escaped with their lives.” The white pegasus raised his head slightly as he appraised Chartres, “How did you know I was Silver Shield?” The unicorn lowered her head, “One of my friends, Dawn Dancer, she was the wife of a lancer called Sky Lark. She asked me to make her husband a lucky pendant to keep him safe during the war. The charm I placed on it worked, but barely. He was maimed in the battle, but at least he’s alive with her.” Barbicn bowed to Chartres, “In that case I thank you for saving the life of one of my lancers Chartres. Now release me! I cannot suffer this pain again. You understand don’t you?” pleaded Barbican. Chartres shut her eyes. She didn’t want to release the spell, but she understood Barbican’s need. Before she could release her spell though, Byzas spoke up. “Barbican, I understand your pain, but this is too dangerous! You can die out there!” That stopped Barbican for a moment and then he snarled. “Wow, I never expected the reckless artist who dragged us all along on this dangerous trip to care about my safety,” snorted Barbican. Byzas flinched. Barbican was right on that aspect, but the earth pony was far too angry to just stand there and take it any longer. He was about to advance, when a sudden thought entered his head so quickly, he almost tripped. When Byzas recovered, he glanced at Barbican. “Wait, you think that I wanted to endanger everypony by having us go on this trip?” gasped Byzas. “What am I supposed to think?” demanded Barbican. Byzas bit his lip as he finally comprehended why Barbican had been so against him from the start. “You thought I was a genuine danger. A threat to the project because my design was so ambitious it defied common sense and physics. And you would be dammed if you let the new capital of Equestria be built in such a dangerous fashion,” said Byzas slowly. Barbican nodded and then to his surprise, Byzas facehoofed. “Why didn’t you just tell me? It could have saved us all the trouble!” groaned the stallion. Barbican’s eyes shot wide open in surprise as he realised Spire was being sincere. “I assumed you wouldn’t agree! Most artists are very defensive about their designs! Besides, Her Highness seemed so taken...” “Her Highness isn’t unreasonable enough to ignore the Lord of Cloudesdale’s son! And I’m not that prideful! Do you honestly think I want the death of those ponies on my hands?” demanded Byzas. Barbican was silent and Byzas sighed as he remembered his own betrayal to Laurel and his inability to help Princess Luna. “Believe me, I’ve hurt some ponies before and I know the guilt that comes with it.” Barbican blinked as he noticed Spire lower his head. “Then I hope you never have to feel it again,” said Barbican. Byzas raised his head and the two met each other’s eyes, purple orbs gazing into light brown orbs. He’s not so bad after all... thought the two stallions. Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the cave in white light and Barbican remembered his duty. “Thank you Spire, now let me go Chartres!” demanded Barbican. Chartres didn’t let go though, instead she asked a question, “What if you die and they survive? How will White Tower and Golden Triangle deal with your death? Are you sure your decision here will save them, not hurt them?” That stopped Barbican’s heart and he felt himself tear into two. He didn’t know what to do. If Chartres was right, he would be inflicting his family and friends with an unnecessary sacrifice. But if she was wrong, he didn’t know if he could take another failure. Barbican found himself trapped, this time in between a rock and a hard place. “I... don’t know... But I can’t stay here! I need to know if they are alright!” begged Barbican. Chartres smiled. “Then take me with you. You’ll need my magic to light the way,” said Chartres. Byzas stepped forward beside Chartres. “I’m with you too,” said Byzas firmly. Barbican took in the resolute expressions the pair were giving him and he knew he couldn’t dissuade them. “Thank you both.” Footnote: 1) Thank you RealityCheck for that spell.