//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 – The Sausage Delay // Story: Autonomous Reflection // by Crystalline HP //------------------------------// As she entered the Conference Room with Fluttershy beside her, a habitual checklist composed itself without permission in Twilight’s head. It clung there with an irritating persistence, its latest two items of arriving punctually to the meeting and mending a cracked friendship eager to be ticked off. But Twilight could reasonably dispose of only one of them. Well, at least I’m on time. Twilight was grateful for the relatively boring layout of the room. Perfectly circular in shape; enormous banners adorned with familiar crests hanging at equidistant intervals around the circumference; fresh food and drink within easy magical reach at the back; and the timeless round table, a transparent symbol over which crucial decisions were made. She noted that even what wasn’t there hinted at the room’s purpose, the total lack of raised positions telling Twilight that, in here, a peasant could declare their view and know it carried no less magnitude than a princess’s. Since all opinions were fair game, no other furniture bothered to make an appearance, probably because it would more likely end up hitting someone in the face during a blazing argument rather than serve a more common purpose of comfort. Perhaps a similar reason applied to why none of the refreshments offered high sugar content, and also why the single colour painted upon the walls – a very unprovocative shade of blue – simply sat there in the background, as if it didn’t want to get involved. She was grateful for all of this because, after hearing Fluttershy’s reaction to her admission of pent-up frustration, Twilight could personify the vexing cloud now surrounding her own mind very succinctly: a swarm of maddening confusion. Unprepared to initiate a heart-to-heart at such short notice, Twilight knew that her torrent of explanations and apologies had been badly structured—yet Fluttershy had behaved like a robot programmed with straightforward, generic responses. Neutrality almost to the point of indifference was neither Fluttershy’s genuine disposition nor characteristic for her to fake, especially not when under dire stress. Twilight knew then that something disturbing ran deep within Fluttershy, and the cause had struck recently. Whether it proved to be a delicate, personal problem, or a terrible secret concealed for the benefit of another, her behaviour could not be excused by the coronation alone. At least the pegasus had promised to suppress future urges to proclaim undying servitude to her, but having expected either continued resistance or a bawling breakdown, Twilight had no idea how Fluttershy now felt, and therefore no clue how much progress she had made. Still, the predictability of the Conference Room somewhat helped clear Twilight’s congested thoughts and, to a lesser extent, play down the tangle of mysteries. My options have been narrowed down to just the one: when this meet is over, I have to bring my friends up to speed and see if they have better luck. Together, we can surely coax Fluttershy out of that shell and accomplish what I’m obviously incapable of doing on my own. Scanning the room to mentally claim a spot around the table, Twilight was pleased to see those same friends having settled in well, their thirty-minute wait seemingly enough to have bred an atmosphere of ease. An impassive Celestia stood in silence, eyes closed and magnificent horn glowing gently, but Twilight took the princess’s allowance of casual conversation as a positive sign that the reasons behind this gathering did not bode with serious alarm. On a whim of curiosity, Twilight focused on the loudest commotion. An amusing scene met her eyes wherein Applejack was engaged in animated discussion with Shining Armour, whose contributions consisted mostly of hearty laughs, while Cadence performed flawlessly as a spare part beside them. Twilight couldn’t help a giggle; her brother had been enthralled with Applejack’s accent ever since their respective introductions, a harmless addiction which his wife was usually graceful enough to take in her stride. Nearby, Rainbow Dash sat in what appeared to be contented bewilderment as Pinkie Pie’s mouth delivered a sentence that never ended. The explanation why Rainbow, irrefutably the most impatient mare within an Equestria-sized radius, always tolerated – no, actively enjoyed – the pink pony’s haphazard rants without getting the chance to give her own, swollen opinions was a box Twilight feared she might never tick. At last Pinkie’s lungs demanded that she take a breath, and Rainbow Dash managed a few, enthusiastic words. Suddenly Pinkie dove forward to embrace Rainbow in her signature death-squeeze, after which point she said something that was clearly extremely embarrassing, for a furious blush flooded Rainbow Dash’s cheeks. Her outlook bright at seeing her friends so relaxed and affectionate, Twilight’s eyes switched to the other side of the table, where they beheld the perfectly ordinary sight of Spike chatting to Rarity. And an inferno of hate raged within her. W-What? What was that? Twilight blinked. Her senses discerned no change of surroundings since the fleeting gap in her composure, save for a subdued Fluttershy shuffling into a space around the table between Applejack and Rainbow Dash. Along with no perceivable instigator thereof, the monstrous emotion hadn’t even had the common courtesy to stay long enough for Twilight to be sure of its existence. The knowledge that dwelling on the matter would only exacerbate her mood brought Twilight’s attention to the last pony in attendance. Luna looked more anxious than anything else. Ever the less talented sister when the situation called for a figurative mask, her lower jaw maintained a permanent clamp on the opposite lip, and her hooves rapped periodically upon the table. Perhaps Luna was lost in the information concerning Fluttershy’s crumbling character, or she may well have been worried about a fact which Twilight herself only now realised: the final guest and his reliably chaotic entrance were nowhere to be seen. Catching each other’s gaze after a few seconds, Twilight was greeted with one of Luna’s raised eyebrows. This was no acknowledgement, and Twilight responded to the true nature of the gesture as best she could. She shook her head through clenched teeth, allowed her tail to droop and, above all, shrugged with an air of total cluelessness. She hoped that Luna got the intended message. I don’t know how it went with Fluttershy… I’m sorry! I just don’t know! After a brief frown, Luna offered a sympathetic smile, countered by the firmness of her accompanying nod. Recognising the role-reversal, Twilight studied her fellow princess carefully. The conclusion she drew left Twilight worried that she might be a simpleton, as the single solution she could glean from Luna’s body language was one applicable to every other difficult situation under the sun which her sister guided. Be strong, Twilight Sparkle, echoed Twilight’s independent narrator in a passable rendition of both Luna’s voice and mannerisms. So long as courage is your companion, no problem shall stand invincible. Her head fell silent.  Twilight returned the steadfast nod she owed, and soon the beat of rhythmic tapping filled the room once more as Luna succumbed to her disquiet. On her second attempt to pick out a free space around the table, Twilight’s focus broke again thanks to a friendly hoof which was suddenly grooming her mane. Turning revealed its owner to be Cadence, who chuckled softly and withdrew the hoof. “Sorry, but I won’t have my favourite mare looking anything but her best,” said her former foal-sitter with a wink. “Cadence, I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaimed. Happiness emboldened her, and Twilight fired a question too tempting to resist. “Getting to spend much quality time with your husband?” she asked with a sly smile. Cadence laughed in understanding. “I’ll get you back for that,” she joked. “I’ll admit, your brother’s ears are probably having a bit too much of a good time with Applejack given the circumstances, but I know that Shining is taking this as seriously as the next pony.” A faint spark invigorated her. “Still, we could have our fun too, you know. We haven’t greeted each other properly yet…” Twilight could not have hoped to prevent the mischievous grin now spreading on her lips. “We haven’t, have we?” After glancing around in unison to ensure they did not have an audience, the duo forged ahead with their rite of song and dance, chanting, “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybug’s awake! Clap your hooves and—” “Burn them at the stake?” suggested a voice mildly. Twilight raised her eyes skyward, intending to burn holes through the idiot who had desecrated their ritual. “What?” said Discord, half indignant, half amused. “I had to find some way of stopping you two from shaking your backsides at one another.” Twilight opened her mouth to retort, but the insult died in her throat when the thickness of the air made itself known to her. Discord’s arrival had withered the environment and, although the multitude of talk bouncing around the Conference Room had not stopped, an invisible volume dial seemed to have been twisted firmly anti-clockwise. The predictable exception was Rainbow Dash welcoming him with a loud, “You’re late!” Continuing as though he had made no impact whatsoever, Discord tousled Twilight’s lilac mane and addressed her again. “Look at you, all grown up and responsible! I feel like a proud dad, except that I’m thousands of years older, a completely different species and the reason why you suffered from extreme depression for a while.” She tore his ugly limb off her mane and ignored his sarcasm. “Why are you here? We don’t need you or your malicious ways ruining our lives, Discord, so what is so important to Celestia that means your personal attack on her sister can be forgotten?” In her peripheral vision, Twilight thought she saw Cadence looking at her proudly, helping to imbue her voice with even more conviction. Eyes darting left and right, Discord beckoned Twilight near with a talon. Hesitantly, she cooperated through a few tentative steps forward, but his claw kept motioning for their bodies to draw closer and closer until his mouth hovered a hair’s breadth from her ear. Fearing a classic act of trickery at hand, Twilight braced for an explosion of noise to rip apart her ear drum… “Because I’m just that handsome,” he whispered. Twilight sagged, her patience rapidly evaporating into the humid air. His face triumphant, Discord pulled away and cackled. “Ah, I love surprising you, my dear princesses! The four of you are my favourite victims. But a little perspective is always nice, so tonight we’re playing switcheroo: I don’t have the foggiest why Celestia is locking me in this criminally organised dump with you lot. For all I know, she’s invited me so I can chow down on her latest chocolate cake recipe.” “Or maybe just throw it in your face…” quipped Cadence, making Twilight snort as she stifled a laugh. “Speaking of cake,” Discord continued with a jab towards the refreshments table, “did you notice how there isn’t a single slice of it on offer over there? It’s a disgrace, I tell you. I’m off to see if there’s a sausage or otherwise suitably shaped implement that I can shove up an unfortunate area of the chef later. Toodles!” And he departed, his casual float to the back of the room enlivened only by the sound of his humming and the palpable glares of varying intensity directed his way. It took Twilight a few seconds to realise she was holding her breath. Releasing it slowly, her muscles relaxed as Cadence told her, “You handled that really well, Twilight. You’re going to do Equestria proud.” High praise was always a buzz for Twilight, mainly because she lived restlessly without validation that her actions were worthwhile and morally just, but this time she found herself unable to accept the compliments; too much doubt lay rooted too deeply. “I don’t know, maybe,” she sighed. “I’m determined to do my best, but whether that will be enough to please everypony…” She trailed off, improvised modesty failing her. “Hey, don’t put yourself down, Twili!” Shining Armour trotted over and gave her a hug which she knew had been deliberately perfected since her birth, one that offered a physically soft blanket of touch yet simultaneously conveyed a powerful assurance. “You’ve got what it takes. I know the pressure multiplies like a Parasprite when everypony has so much faith in you, but it actually ends up being the helpful driving force that pushes you to succeed.” A soppy smile spread across his face. “I should know; you were the one who said I couldn’t possibly fail when I became captain of the Royal Guard.” The wholeness and intimacy of his logic touched Twilight, and she was reminded of exactly why her brother was entrusted with so much responsibility. “Thank you,” she said softly, knowing that Shining did not need to hear tacky add-ons to understand the depth of her gratitude. When she felt that the moment had passed, Twilight moved to give the conversation a playful kick. “So, have you finally dragged yourself away from my friend’s seductive voice?” “S-Seductive?!” he spluttered, casting terrified glances at Cadence. “I…I mean…!” His awkwardness was all the more hilarious to witness because Twilight had assumed nothing; Shining had slipped up during one of her routine visits to the castle with her friends two months ago. Having only just truly interacted with Applejack for the first time, Twilight had innocently asked what he thought of her. And now here he stood, probably cursing his lax tongue. Faced with the prospect of either lying to Cadence or signing his own death sentence, Shining eventually made the smart choice and did neither. “Oh, Twili, you’re such a joker!” he evaded. “Applejack was just telling me about the Zap Apple harvest! Did you know the howl of the Timberwolves is the first sign that they’re coming? And their colour! It’s amazing! I had no idea that…” Shining Armour continued in this way for quite some time, although whether his blabbering reflected a genuine enthusiasm or was merely a tactical shield against the potential wrath of his wife remained unknown to Twilight. She grew bored, scrawling invisible shapes on the carpet until a royal symbol upon it made her realise, with a start, that she had almost forgotten the apparent importance of this meeting. What’s taking so long? Discord is here now, and I don’t think Celestia is waiting to see if he finds that sausage. We should have started ages ago… Looking upon Princess Celestia again, Twilight was slightly unnerved to see no change in her stance. In fact, she wouldn’t blame a casual observer for thinking Celestia had frozen herself in time with magic; it was difficult to perceive her even breathing, only the horn atop her head glimmering with any sign of life. Twilight jabbed her brother to shut him up before nodding at Celestia. “What’s she doing?” “Checking for bugs,” Shining replied as if it were obvious. When Twilight’s look of expectancy for some reason did not prompt Shining Armour to expand, Cadence took it upon herself to carry on instead. “Well, as you’ll have noticed by now, Celestia and Luna’s advisors aren’t here. I’m not entirely sure why that is, but one thing everypony in this castle is sure of is that they aren’t happy about it.” Shining Armour concurred with a grim smile. “Celestia knows that they’re all nosy, pompous nutjobs, so she’s searching for any hidden spells they might have cast beforehand that would record whatever we’re about to discuss.” He ran a hoof tiredly down his face. “You know better than I do, Twili, how crafty subtle magic like that can be, so I’m guessing that’s why we’re sitting around like this.” Understanding came, but with it arrived a familiar thirst for knowledge. Despite all her dealings within the castle, including for the duration of the coronation, Twilight had only caught glimpses of maybe two or three of the politicians and never actually spoken to any of them. More importantly, since much of the happenings during a court session were left to the ravages of public speculation, she knew that her comprehension of their personalities was likely infested with falsities and hearsay. “There are eight of them, right? The royal sisters’ advisors, I mean.” “Yup,” said Shining Armour brusquely, “and I don’t care for any of them. Our duties clash quite a bit, and they’re always lecturing me about how I could do my job better.” A clear inner upheaval drove him to stomp angrily.  “Pah! I should march in here in the middle of a meeting and shoot down every one of their selfish demands by showing them how real life works!” Cadence approached and nuzzled her head against his, causing his agitation to wane as he inhaled a breath of calm. “Thanks, sweetheart. Celestia is right, though; it’s that Dark Horse you’ve got to watch out for. You can’t trust a stallion who never takes off his cloak.” “Dark Horse?” inquired Twilight, doubtful that any parent in their right mind would ever curse their newborn with such an impersonal, lazy title. “That’s got to be a nickname.” “Yeah, a disturbingly fitting one for the pony who hides his cutie mark: Icon o’ Clast.” Curious uncertainty quickly stole the forefront of Twilight’s attention; she had heard of Icon o’ Clast. Keen-minded but fierce-hooved, he was the unspoken leader of Celestia’s court. With a deliberate sense of equality enforced through the Conference Room’s very design and seven other agendas competing to win bragging rights, one could be misled into thinking that the other politicians would verbally grapple with Clast in as confident and self-righteous a manner as they would the stallion sat next to him. But a recent memory merged with Twilight’s vision, and Celestia’s voice rang only six days old as she warned, “Icon o’ Clast is the most spectacular but also most unsettling unicorn of this generation. He holds no regard for his own safety and, one way or another, always chooses the path which results in the least fatalities, bulldozing over any dangling issues such as financial cost, national relations, tradition…and other ponies’ point of view.” Celestia had indulged in a thoughtful pause before admitting, “Trouble is that his suggestions are often the best way to proceed. It’s a welcome change from the usual essays of propaganda, and although my other advisors share a common trait with him in their reluctance to compromise, Clast’s thought process is alien territory to them. A mind like yours, Twilight, would notice their fear of him before he opened his mouth.” “However, do not imagine that we nurse a soft spot for him,” Luna had added, troubled experiences evident in her eyes. “Even we speak carefully on the occasions when his arrant ideals about the sanctity of life must be rejected.” Another heavy pause had weighed them down on them, and Luna had voiced her final mentation carefully. “Icon o’ Clast would sacrifice himself to save Equestria in a heartbeat, but he would just as soon silence you in your sleep if your blood sustained two dying Changelings.” The memory ended on that knife-edged balance of character, and Twilight sympathised with the sisters for the thousandth time. “They sure have a lot to put up with, don’t they?” “You can say that again,” Shining replied with a humourless laugh. “Princess Celestia has not been herself lately.” Cadence sighed, and Twilight spotted a flash of contagious fatigue engulfing the alicorn; all ponies, it seemed, had employed brave faces to conceal their weaknesses today. “Shining and I worry for her health. It goes without saying that crowning a new princess is going to induce some measure of stress, but this has been ridiculous.” “Too right, and I’m willing to bet a few bits that Clast is pulling most of the strings,” Shining Armour said with no shortage of confidence. “He’s given those two enough grief already just because he thinks your youth automatically means you can’t be a good ruler.” A scoff escaped him and he took a sharp breath, as if to launch into another offensive. Then Twilight saw him change his mind. He chewed his lip slowly, hesitant to go on. “Shining?” ventured Twilight. Eyeing her nervously, her brother grunted. “Is there something I should know? Don’t leave me in the dark, not now... I need all the help I can get if I’m to stand a chance of winning their trust.” A pile of senseless noises was his response, which irked Twilight; she had little patience watching a stallion, especially her own brother, grunt profusely and then believe it a sound reason to excuse himself from answering. So, without a shred of guilt, Twilight pouted and gave him her best helpless-little-sister look. And he relented. “Gah! Fine. Their trust is worth less than nothing, but I suppose the wrong first impression could tempt them to stir even more trouble. I can’t find a delicate way to put this, so—” “Excuse me, everyone!” Three strikes of Celestia’s hoof against the table ensured her call was heard. “I’m happy to announce that nothing of underhand intent has been planted inside this room. If you would all gather round, please…” Still eager to be in the circle of knowledge, Twilight motioned for Shining Armour to hurry up and explain. He shook his head, however, merely promising, “Later.” Disappointed, Twilight skulked over to the table and found a space fairly close to the room’s entrance. She did not particularly care whom she neighboured, but Twilight vaguely wondered if fate had assumed control to order the party around the table; sat directly opposite was Fluttershy, whose eyes contained abundant pain as they looked to be silently pleading for help. Wait! Is she ready to talk? Unable to speak without arousing suspicion, and clueless as to the form of assistance Fluttershy so desperately needed, Twilight could only place a hoof over her heart and gaze at her friend with soft sincerity. I’ll help you, she mouthed across the table. Everything will be ok… I promise. Fluttershy’s lip trembled, and Twilight’s spirits soared when the pegasus noiselessly replied, Thank you. “My deepest apologies for the delay,” Princess Celestia began from a position that could arguably have been called head of the table. “Firstly, I would like to remind everyone that this meeting is not a reaction to a disaster or a looming threat. But, I will take liberties now to assure you how important and also how confidential the subject at hoof actually is. There will be a lot to take in, so please pay attention.” Twilight thought she saw her glance at Pinkie. Feeling a weighty disturbance on her back, Twilight looked around and smiled as Spike made himself comfortable upon her body. The dragon knew he could mount her without prior warning nowadays; they trusted each other implicitly. At any rate, Spike’s miserable height rendered him unable to do more than crack open his forehead in this room. Twilight reached back and rubbed his cheek affectionately, an action that was rewarded with a toothy grin which left her feeling unnaturally warm. Celestia, flanked left by her sister and right by the evening’s controversial guest, arrived at her final formality. “Do any of our twelve here tonight have any questions or objections?” Silence reigned, answering in the negative; not even Discord deigned to lob a nervy comment. Celestia nodded, satisfied. “Excellent. Then we may begin."