//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part II: A Heartfelt Desire // Story: The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King // by TalonMach5 //------------------------------// The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King A Story by TalonMach5 Chapter 12: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part II: A Heartfelt Desire “Slave King, all the final preparations for your inauguration are ready,” Harmony said, reading from a stack of papers as she following besides him. “Once all your guests have had their fill of breakfast, you’re free to begin.” “Are you certain, you don’t want to wear something a little more stunning?” Ringing Bells asked, trotting besides him. “For such a momentous occasion, surely you deserve to wear only the best.” The Slave King stopped to consider what she said, as he drained his goblet. Gunhilde, seeing his cup was now empty, hurried to refill it. Though the silk and satin clothes the fashionista had made for him felt delightful against his skin, right now, he desperately needed the familiar to keep him grounded. He didn’t know if he could say no again, if one of them approached him. “No,” he answered, looking down at the fashionista. “Though this occasion is of some import, I fear your clothing may not survive the trip to our meeting place.” “Oh, that’s quite all right, your majesty,” she said, levitating a quill and parchment in front of her. “I’m already planning your ensemble for tonight’s banquet.” “Another banquet?” the Slave King sighed, not looking forward to it in the slightest. “I fear after last night’s revelry, all my guests would choose to make a hasty retreat.” “Never fear, your majesty,” Ringing Bells said, “Princess Celestia told me herself she had a lovely time, and was looking forward to the remainder of the festivities.” “If I might offer my observations, Slave King,” Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap said, giving Harmony the evil eye when she smirked at his ruined whiskers. “Nohound would dare leave, no matter how much they wished to.” “Why do you say that, arch duke?” the Slave King asked, curious why he thought so. “Our realm is second in importance to Celestia’s,” Yipyap said, offering his analysis of the situation. “Should anyhound leave before the others, they would be at a significant disadvantage should any of your peers decide to engage in politics.” “So you feel the possibility for the political to occur, would be enough to keep them here?” he asked, intrigued by his logic. “Among the powerful, Slave King, everything is political,” he replied, with a wry smile. “And since they’re your guests, you have the advantage.” “I assume that’s why Celestia, the Radiant, hosts the Grand Galloping Gala every year,” the Slave King mused, pulling on his beard thoughtfully. “Your majesty, watch your beard!” Ringing Bells said, alarmed that her careful grooming was going to be for naught. Seeing her distress at something so trivial, made him loose his worries for a moment, and made him release a hearty laugh. “My apologies, Ringing Bells,” he said, feeling much better. “No, your majesty, please forgive me for speaking out of turn,” she apologized. “I’ll admit, ensuring you look your best, has left me a bit frazzled.” “Your hard work on my behalf, is much appreciated,” he said, offering her a smile. “Well, it’s not every day you get called to be the royal clothes maker to the king,” she admitted, beaming with pride at his praise. “I’ll do everything within my power to ensure you look the best you can.” “Slave King, we’re running behind schedule,” Harmony said, giving the others a disapproving look for wasting the Slave King’s limited time with idle gossip. “It’ll be fine, Harmony, quite a few of my guests are still sleeping off the effects of last night’s drinking,” he said, drinking from his goblet once more. “Everyone, feel free to go get some breakfast.” Blowing a few black feathers out of her face, she sighed. “Very well, Slave King,” she said, placing the carefully planned schedule in her bag. “Why don’t you go visit with your mother,” he suggested to her. “I’m sure sharing a meal with her might be enjoyable. You don’t get many opportunities to do so these days.” “But your schedule!” she objected, worried that he might end up sidetracked by pointless minutia, derailing his carefully planned itinerary for the day. “We can’t have the inauguration without everyone present, Lady Suzaku included,” he reminded her. “Promise me you won’t do anything rash,” she pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t cause another interdomain incident. “I promise to behave myself,” he said with a grin. His promise of good behavior put her at ease. It was at times like this, where he opened himself to her, that she almost knew what it what it must be like to have a father. Though she never expected him to acknowledge her or her sisters, it was times like these that made serving him worthwhile. “I’ll speak with her, and ensure she’s there on time,” she said, before heading towards her mother’s location. “Oh, and Harmony,” he said. “Yes, Slave King?” she asked. “Tell her, thank you, and that I’m sorry,” he said. “I will,” Harmony said, leaving him with his entourage. “It’s so heartwarming,” Ringing Bells said. “What is?” the Slave King asked. “The affection you hold for your daughter,” she replied, looking wistfully at him. “I have no children,” he answered, giving her a sharp look. “My apologies, your highness,” she said, laying her ears against her head, and pawing at the ground nervously. “I assumed she was your daughter, because of the obvious affection you hold for each other.” “Enjoy your breakfast,” he brusquely said, trying to change the subject. “I look forward to seeing the clothing you make for me later.” “Of… of course your majesty,” she nervously replied, not sure what she’d done to annoy him. Once she’d left with the arch duke, he finished the remainder of his draught. Looking at the empty goblet, he wondered how many others had guessed the connection he held to Harmony and her sisters, not to mention Dawson and the rest. He wondered how much of his refusal to acknowledge them as his, was merely stubborn foolishness, rather than the actual need his situation necessitated. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Aria’s haunted look of rejection etched into her face, Melody’s longing to be held by her father, Harmony’s heartfelt desire to be a family, and Dawson’s hunger to be accepted as his son. A piece of him desperately wanted to reach out to them, to claim them as his children. But he lacked the courage to do so, he stood to lose so much that he didn’t dare. “Slave King?” Gunhilde’s voice asked, rousing him from his introspection. “Yes, what is it?” he said, suddenly feeling a sense of loss he’d only ever known from, Her. “Shall I refill your cup?” she asked, holding a large bottle containing his draught aloft with her magic. Though he wished to be alone, he needed his draught to get through the day. Nodding to her once, he held out his goblet. “Please,” he said. As she filled his cup, he looked at her. Though she was one of his newest servants, he felt oddly at ease around her. “Tell me of your parents, Gunhilde.” When she heard the Slave King’s request, she looked at him strangely. Part of her wanted to berate him for having taken her away from them, but part of her was curious as to why he would even ask. As far as she knew, he cared little for others. “Well, my family belongs to a minor house,” Gunhilde said, looking up into the Slave King’s magic fueled eyes. “My father is a housecarl serving in Lord Cerynitis’s court, while my mother is a shielddoe of his retinue. But it’s been many winters since either of them last saw battle. What kind of man was your father?” he asked, nursing his drink. Man? she wondered. Realizing he meant buck, she thought a moment about her father. She’d been stationed in Bone’s Landing for several years by that point, and hadn’t seen him in a while. “Well, Slave King,” she said. “My father was strict, he expected great things of his fawns.” “Is that why you served Lord Triton, so far from your homeland?” he asked her. “No, I uh…” she stammered, thinking back to the last conversation she’d had with him. They’d not left on good terms, she’d always wished she could’ve come back home to apologize, but she’d always put it off until later. And now, it looks like it might be a long time before she’d have the opportunity to. Thinking of her far away home, was starting to make her feeling misty eyed, and sorrowful for her enslavement. Noticing her silence, he drank once more from his cup. “I’m sure he misses you dearly,” he said, holding out his cup to be filled once more. When she heard his attempt at sympathizing with her, she wanted to rage at him. She wanted to shout at him, and ask him why he didn’t just let her go, if he was feeling so sorry for her. But instead she said nothing, choosing to bottle up her anger and refilled his cup in silence. “I might need someone to head north,” he said, looking into the shimmering emerald draught inside his cup. “If you’re amicable to making the trip, Gunhilde, you could be the one to go. If you wanted to see your family then, I’d not object to it.” Gunhilde nearly dropped the bottle of draught, when she heard the Slave King’s offer. She couldn’t possibly understand his reasons for doing any of this. Why he’d offered her the prestigious position of being his cup bearer, when he could have just as easily made her a tentdoe, given her a portion of his power instead of sending her to the toil in the mines, and now he was making it possible to see her parents. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she replied, grateful for her good fortune. “Say yes,” he said. “I need someone to check my northern holdings for me.” “I’ll do it, Slave King,” she said, bowing low to the ground. “There’s no need for you to bow and scrape before me,” he said, raising her up from the ground. “I only require for you to fill my cup, nothing more.” “Why are you doing this?” she asked, unable to fathom the reasons for his behavior. “Someone’s going to have to go north, it might as well be someone who’s well suited for the cold,” he answered, his stony expression refusing to reveal his true intentions. Finishing his cup, he looked down at her and gestured towards the dining hall. “Come,” he said, “let’s see how my guests are enjoying their breakfast.” Without another word, the two of them walked down the hall in silence towards his slumbering guests. ***** She was nervously pacing before the large mirror in front of her. Looking at her reflection, she was examining her silvery coat and sky blue plumage for imperfections, and wasn’t feeling satisfied with the results of her hours of preening. “Argh!” she screeched in frustration, raking her sharp talons against the stone floor and leaving deep gashes behind. She eyed herself with a critical gaze, as she flared her wings, fully displaying her gorgeous plumage. “Zephy love,” her friend asked, placing a wing gently on her shoulder. “You worry too much.” “Not enough, Zuzu,” Lady Zephyr replied, to the Lady of Summer, and goddess of love. “He’ll never choose me over the others at this rate.” Lady Suzaku, gave her friend an understanding smile. “And why shouldn’t he?” she asked. “I’ve seen how the Slave King looks at you, part of him desires you greatly.” “But what about last night?” she objected, her tail twitching nervously, as she imagined all the things her beloved must have done. “I heard he spent much of it alone with Princess Luna.” “What of it?” Lady Suzaku dismissively replied, looking her friend in the eye. “You should know better than most, it takes more than a single night to win over his heart. We’ve both had centuries, and have yet to do so.” “But she’s so beautiful and graceful,” Lady Zephyr moaned, wishing she was as svelte as either Celestia or Luna. “Don’t sell yourself short, Zephy,” she admonished her friend, pointing to her reflection. “You’re powerful and tempestuous. Any who might see you now, would grow flush with desire for your beauty.” Lady Zephyr sighed. “If only I had more time to win him over,” she said, regretting she’d ran out of time to win him over. “I’m sure we’d have reconciled, once he’d seen Dawson leading my griffons into combat.” When she heard her mention her son, Lady Suzaku became quiet and withdrawn. “He’s so much like my precious Aria,” she said, thinking of her own children. “She’s so full of fire, and desperately wanting to receive her father’s love and acceptance.” Sympathizing with her friend’s pain, Lady Zephyr gave her a warm embrace. “It’ll be made right one day,” she said, sharing with her, her hopes for the future. “A few days ago, we fought each other inside the spirit realm.” “Oh?” Lady Suzaku said, her curiosity piqued at the revelation. “Whatever brought that on?” “Well…” Lady Zephyr sheepishly replied, looking into her friend’s ruby eyes. “I confronted him regarding how poorly he’d been treating Dawson, and attacked him unprovoked.” Lady Suzaku knowingly smiled, full aware of how fiery her friend’s temper could sometimes be. “Yet he still leapt to your defense, when that wurm tried provoking you,” she said, still refusing to utter the Fire Tyrant’s name even after all this time. Remembering how he’d stood between Lord Ouroboros and herself, protecting her from making a fatal mistake, she felt her heart quicken once more with the love she held for him. “Yes he did,” she said, blushing profusely. “If only he loved me, as I love him.” Wanting to hear the rest of the story, Lady Suzaku prodded her friend. “Sorry for sidetracking you, Zephy,” she said, looking at her expectantly. Realizing she was acting like a love struck chick, Lady Zephyr decided to finish telling the rest of her story. “Well, once we’d began fighting, I didn’t hold anything back,” she said, recalling the great battle she’d had with her elemental opposite. “Releasing the full extent of my power, I struck him.” “Then what happened, Zephy?” Lady Suzaku asked, enthralled by the story. “Well, Zuzu,” she continued, holding up her talons for emphasis. “I suppose the Slave King was prepared for my attack, because when I landed my blow against him, it was as if I’d struck against a mountain. The force of the impact tore us from the waking world and sent us hurtling into the spirit realm.” “What was he like in his elemental form?” she asked, curious what her one time lover might look like, removed from his flesh. “Unsurprisingly, very similar to his usual appearance,” Lady Zephyr said with a smile. “His right arm was even made completely from metal.” “Oh, I wish I could’ve seen him in all his glory,” Lady Suzaku wistfully said. “I’m sure he looked magnificent.” “He truly was, Zuzu,” Lady Zephyr replied, blushing once more. “Had I not been so angry at the time, I might have pounced on him right there and then.” When she saw her friend’s blushing smile, Lady Suzaku knew exactly what’d happened. “You did though, didn’t you?” she teased, immensely enjoying their gossip. Having been found out, Lady Zephyr nodded once. “Once I had fought him to a standstill, he thought to overpower me in his pure elemental form, and held me tight,” she said, remembering the fond memories of her beloved. “But I assumed the form of my pure essence, bound myself to him, and sang the song of creation to him.” “Oh, Zephy, how romantic!” the excitable phoenix dreamily cooed, wishing she could experience that with him for herself. “Did he reciprocate?” “Yes,” she admitted, sighing in delight as she relived the fond memory. “There, he finally shared his heart with me for the first time.” Realizing the significance of such an occurrence, Lady Suzaku’s eyes grew moist as her heart overfilled with joy that he was finally capable of loving somefeather back. Though she was overjoyed that he was finally able to express his love, she felt forlorn that she hadn’t been the one he’d shared himself with. “I’m so happy for you, Zephy love,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to hide her envy. Seeing her friend’s hidden hurt, she drew her into a tight embrace. “Zuzu, he cares enough to provide a place for your daughters,” she said. “One day, he’ll finally have room enough for us all.” “I know, Zephy,” she sighed, resting her head against her friend’s silken coat. “I just wish things could be as they once were. Just the two of us sharing him between us. Not having to worry that one of the others would swoop in, to steal him away for their own selfish purposes.” Thinking about how stubborn he could be, Lady Zephyr smiled. “Oh, Zuzu,” she said. “I think the others will be sorely mistaken if they think they can easily bend him to their will, just by shaking their flanks in his face.” “Tell me about it, Zephy,” Lady Suzaku complained, thinking back to yesterday’s events. “Had Lady Minoa been any more flagrant in her lustful display, she would have attempted making him mount her publicly.” “Though hands are lovely,” Lady Zephyr said. “He definitely prefers feathers.” “Yeah,” Lady Suzaku agreed, vowing not to be beaten by that slutty cow, spread out her gorgeous plumage before the mirror. “We’ll show them all!” Before Lady Zephyr could respond, a knock was heard at the door. “Come in,” Lady Suzaku said. To her delight, when the door opened it revealed none other than her daughter Harmony, standing on the other side. When she saw her child, her eyes lit up excitedly, and she rushed over to shower her daughter with affection. “Oh, Harmony love,” she said, kissing her daughter affectionately and pulling her into a loving embrace. “What a delightful surprise, how’s your father doing?” When Harmony heard her mother calling the Slave King her father, she frowned. “Mother, it’s disrespectful referring to the Slave King as my father,” she said, breaking away from her mother’s iron grip. “He has no children.” Hearing her daughter parroting the Slave King’s nonsense, nearly broke her heart. “Harmony love,” she said, trying to gently correct her daughter’s erroneous claim. “All the feathered folk tribe are the product of the union between myself and a wayfarer.” “Yes,” Harmony agreed. “But that wayfarer wasn’t the Slave King.” “He most certainly was, young lady!” she replied, feeling hurt that her own flesh and blood refused to acknowledge the truth. “Your father might deny it all he wants, but the truth is…” “The truth is, the Slave King has no children,” she interrupted, obstinately refusing to accept what her mother was saying.” As she saw them bickering, Lady Zephyr felt a twinge of sorrow. To spare himself the pain of rejection, would Dawson accept the same lies? she wondered. “See reason, Harmony love,” Lady Suzaku pleaded, desperately wishing her daughter would finally believe her. “See, this is why I never come to visit, mother,” Harmony said, closing her eyes and massaging her temples as the desire to become violent, began overtaking her. Feeling hurt and betrayed, Lady Suzaku withdrew from her child. “Alright, Harmony love, if that’s what you prefer to believe,” she said, hurting that her own child wouldn’t believe her. “I won’t argue about this any further.” Harmony looked at her distraught mother, and felt slightly guilty about how she’d reacted. Though she loved her greatly, it vexed her to no end to endlessly continue having this argument with her, whenever she spent time with her. Reaching out, she hugged the teary eyed phoenix. “I love you, mother,” she whispered, laying her head against her shoulder. “I love you too, my hatchling,” she said, forgetting the hurt and grateful for the chance to be able to hold her close once more. Seeing the tender scene before her, suddenly made her realize how greatly she missed her son. She longed to hold him, kiss him, and tell him how much she loved him. “Zuzu,” she wistfully said, “I’m going to look for Dawson. I’ll see you at the inauguration later today.” “Alright,” she replied, enjoying the chance to shower her daughter with love and affection. Once they were alone, she looked up at her daughter and smiled. “So, Harmony love, not that I’m complaining, but what brings you here?” she asked, curious why her daughter would’ve left the Slave King’s side at such a busy time. “Normally, your fath… er, the Slave King keeps you on a pretty tight leash.” “The Slave King decided to abandon his schedule,” she said, still feeling slightly miffed that her carefully crafted itinerary was being ignored for no good reason. “He asked me to make sure you were still coming today.” When she heard that he’d not only been concerned for her well-being, but that he’d been thoughtful enough to send somefeather to ensure she’d be in attendance as well, her heart melted. “Oh, he does care,” she sighed, grateful for the attention he’d seen fit to give her. When she saw her mother gushing over her liege’s attention, Harmony shook her head sadly, concerned for her mother’s unhealthy obsession over him. “Yes, he also thought I should eat breakfast with you, since I’ve not visited with you in quite some time,” she added, dreading the conversation that would most undoubtedly follow. Though she loved her mother dearly, Harmony always felt she was too concerned with frivolity. Though she was the court magister for the Domain of Earth, considered one of the most influential members of the Slave King’s court, and personally responsible for running one of the greatest economies in all Equestria, all her mother ever asked her about was how her personal life was. It was almost as if all her accomplishments meant nothing! Who cared if she was still single, she controlled millions in bits, and possessed magic that put many unicorns to shame. “Come, Harmony, let’s eat,” Lady Suzaku said, looking forward to spending some time with her youngest child. “Yes, mother,” she wearily replied. As she followed after her towards the kitchens to get their breakfast, she saw the loving look her mother gave her, and warmly smiled in return. Though she was loathe to admit it, she found herself looking forward to being able to forget all about her other worries. When she was with her mother, she found that all the things she considered so important a few minutes ago, were fading away. Lady Suzaku saw Harmony’s worried face relax, and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ve missed you so,” she said, giving her child an affectionate smile. “I’ve missed you as well,” Harmony replied, grateful that the Slave King had insisted she spend some time with her mother. Here, she didn’t have to worry about her king causing another incident, or about the many guests that might be squabbling over some petty dispute. Opening the door to the dining hall, she contentedly sighed, perfectly happy to leave the worries of court intrigue behind, for at least the next half hour. However, before she could sit down to enjoy a hearty breakfast of pancakes, the angry voices of Lord Triton and Lady Minoa, made her drop her fork in surprise. Looking towards the quarreling deities, she knew that eating breakfast with her mother would have to wait. With a heavy heart, she offered her apologies, before heading over to them, to prevent things from escalating any further. Looking back towards her mother, and her uneaten breakfast, she inwardly seethed how fate always conspired against her. Placing herself between the unruly gods, she glared at each of them, and demanded, “What’s going on here?” ***** Scourge was traveling through the hidden paths of the palace, which were known to only a select few. He needed to reach, The Vendetta’s, resting place, without anyhound seeing him. Ordinarily, he’d have entered through the manufactorium and headed down, deep into bowels of the earth, to reach the treasury. But unfortunately for his task, the dragon-half Ignatius and his numerous siblings made their home amongst the manufactorium’s forges and the Slave King’s numerous exotic machines. Though he’d seen those mechanical marvels many times, he had no idea what any of the machines purposes were. He only knew that vast quantities of arcanum and crystals from the north, had been the primary materials used in their construction and maintenance. But the existence of the strange machines there weren’t his primary concern. Should any of the dragon-halfs see him, they’d would surely wish to speak with him, and word might spread he’d been seen entering the vast foundry. Thus, he was forced to enter the treasury through lesser known paths. Fortunate for him, but unfortunate for the pegasus treasure hunter that had managed to find her way inside, there was a hidden passage that led to the treasury. The intruder had discovered, The Vendetta, and thought to claim it for herself. Once the thief’s cries of terror had alerted everyhound to her presence, all they managed to find of her, were her shredded remains. As a testament to the grim weapon’s voracity, all it’d left behind of the pony adventurer had been bloody gore, brown feathers, and grey hairs, which they’d been forced to clean up for weeks afterward. When the Slave King had found out what’d happened, he simply placed the unassuming artifact back on its pedestal and left his servants to their cleaning. One would think that the most dangerous weapon in existence would’ve be more heavily guarded. But when that weapon is, The Vendetta, it’s capable of providing its own security. The weapon was so terrible in its forging, that its creation nearly cracked the earth. The weapon was manufactured from a piece of divinity from each of the four Prime Elements, and nearly claimed the life of the one who’d forged it. The weapon possessed such power, that it’s said that even the gods tremble in fear, should it ever be raised against them. So great is its power, that in a single night, it claimed the souls of an entire city. The weapon slew them with such a fury, that it was cursed to bare the enmity of their rage for all time. It’s said, that none living may touch, The Vendetta, and survive, for so terrible is the weapon’s curse, it devours all, but the most pure of heart. It was this fearful task, which Scourge needed to perform. He had to steal his master’s most powerful artifact, without being discovered. And somehow manage to keep it away from him, until Princess Celestia had managed to enact her plan. Though he knew his actions would ultimately save his friend’s life, he still felt guilty betraying him in this way. Lowering his head, he stepped out of the palace and into the ruins of the Diamond Vale. Though not as dangerous as it once was, the ruined city was home to all matter of vile creatures. From the skeletal shuffling remains of the undead, to the wailing banshees, and the spectral forms of cunning liches and single-minded wights; the ruins of the city contained all the horrors known to scholars, and a few they didn’t. Although few of the denizens that dwelt here gave him pause, he preferred avoiding them whenever possible. These unfortunates were trapped between life and death. As one who’d once seen the Summerlands with his own eyes, it was difficult seeing them, knowing they would forever be denied that paradise. Traveling through the cracked streets and between the broken buildings, he knew he was getting close to the secret entrance to the treasury. It’d once been an aqueduct that brought water to the palace. But even before the Slave King had assumed his throne, it’d fallen into disuse and had apparently been forgotten by everyhound. It wasn’t until the Pegasus adventurer had discovered the passageway, and been slain by, The Vendetta, that anyhound was made aware of its existence. But instead of blocking it off like he’d been urged to by Scourge and the others, the Slave King decided to leave it alone. He was thankful that his master hadn’t chosen to listen to him. It would’ve made accessing the treasury all the more difficult. Approaching the aqueduct’s hidden entrance, Scourge placed his paws against the access’s hidden switches, and waited as the false stone wall moved away, revealing the hidden passageway to him. Stepping into the darkness, he silently walked forward, illuminating the way with the blue ethereal light of his spirit. It was peaceful and quiet inside, and felt comforting. None of the terrors found in the ruined city had ever managed to infest the aqueduct, and so none of the evil miasma that attracted them could be found. As he walked, it reminded him of happier times. Drawing closer to his destination, he thought back to when he’d first met his liege. How fierce and terrible he’d once been. But over the years, his rough exterior had been smoothed, and now he stood as a strong and proud leader of his people. A worthy successor to his predecessor in every way, and an equal, to the fierce Lord Darkpaw. He wondered, had Lord Darkpaw still lived, would the realm be as strong as it was under the Slave King? Though he’d fervently worshiped the fallen deity like the rest of his kin, Darkpaw had allowed the excesses of the corrupt nobility to run unchecked. It’d been fair to say, they’d wrought their destruction by their own paws. Had they not been so cruel, the Slave King might have spared them his wrath. Thinking of the task at paw, he knew his sacrifice would prevent much suffering, and steeled himself to complete his objective. Buried deep in thought, he nearly tripped over the shadowy form of Nightmare. He was about to curse his luck, when he remembered why she was here, rather than by her master’s side. She’d been banished from the palace, when Second had goaded her into attacking Princess Luna unprovoked. Looking at her, he saw she was forlorn and depressed. Though she might normally issue a challenge to any that crossed her path, today she listlessly stared into the darkness, ignoring him completely in the throes of her depression. As he passed her, he saw her look up at him, before turning her gaze away. In that moment, her eyes seemed to ask, Have you come to mock me as well? Knowing she’d attack him once he returned this way with, The Vendetta, in his possession, he decided he needed to convince her to leave. “Nightmare,” he said, his commanding voice echoing throughout the aqueduct. “The Slave King wants you to patrol the old city. There’s been sightings of bogledeboos in the old market.” When she heard that her master still had a task for her to perform, she stood, as her ears perked up. Though she only cared for the Slave King, if there was any other worthy of her respect, it would be Scourge. Lowering her head to him in gratitude for bring her the request, she rolled her shoulders and bounded off into the darkness to serve her master once more. Once she was safely out of sight, he continued his trek towards the treasury and, The Vendetta. Though he was opposed to lying on principal, in this case, he felt it was appropriate. Seeing Nightmare wallowing in despair as a victim of his treason, pricked his conscience. Though she was his enemy in this scheme, as a loyal servant of the Slave King, she didn’t deserve to be treated in this way. He just hoped, that she’d be occupied long enough for him to complete his task unopposed. The darkness of the tunnel began to give way to the soft golden light of the treasury. Though he possessed wealth beyond measure, the Slave King had left the mountains of treasure in vast piles, unguarded by anything or anyhound. The great hall possessed enough wealth to feed the vast appetites of over ten thousand greedy dragons for a thousand years, and still be more than half full. The tales of Lord Ouroboros’s great horde in the Firehold, was the stuff of legends. But the wealth contained within the Slave King’s treasury, made that mighty hoard seem but a thimbleful compared to his master’s vast ocean of wealth. But uncaring for the golden treasure, rare gems, and even rarer magical artifacts scattered about, Scourge walked to the heart of the great treasury, where the true treasures lied. Neatly arranged on pedestals, were all matter of strange and curious objects. From the mundane to the exotic, artifacts of all kinds were laid with care. He passed by a blood red breastplate, said to be capable of protecting its user from even the hottest of flames, shoes capable of granting their wearer flight, and even a stone capable of shielding you from magic with evil intent. Though useful, he doubted the armor would protect him from the flames of his master’s rage, and there was no place he could run to avoid his master’s hand. As for the stone, it wouldn’t do him any good, because this was an evil he’d brought upon himself. Next he passed by various weapons and tools. Undoubtedly, each was an object of great worth, but their power paled in comparison to what, The Vendetta, promised. Beside the magical blades and finely crafted hammers, he saw six unassuming gems. Though each was beautifully cut, their size and luster was as dross, compared to any of the other magnificent gemstones found elsewhere in the treasury. Each gem was dark, almost as if they were waiting for something to unleash the beauty and potential within them. Though they seemed to whisper to him, he hadn’t the time to consider their worth, and continued to his true objective. It was there that he saw it, floating above the pedestal it rested on. He knew there was no traps guarding it, no magical wards protecting it. It was free for the taking, one only needed to reach out and claim it. Though he’d died once already, and didn’t fear the grave. Part of him was apprehensive, he’d no idea what would happen should he touch it. But knowing he had no other choice, he reached forth his paw, and grabbed, The Vendetta, the Slayer of Gods. ***** Never had he felt so violated, and under the care of his host no less. Though his memory was still a bit foggy, the things he remembered happening last night, made his blood boil. That obnoxious minotauress had managed to rob him of his virtue, while he was under the influence of the Slave King’s tainted wine. Though he normally practiced moderation in eating and drinking, the revelry of last night’s feasting had loosened his resolve. As a result, he’d drank in excess of what a proper knight should. Now, to his everlasting shame, he’d publicly violated the very principals he’d asked each of his knights to live by, with that provocative temptress. Looking to the chaste chevaleresse that served him as his shield maidens, he blanched, knowing they’d discovered him in such a compromising and deplorable condition. How they must be despairing, knowing he’d failed to uphold the same standard he expected each of them to live by. It would be centuries, before his tarnished honor would be restored, and he could ask any to swear oaths in his name. Looking at her, he knew exactly why she’d been successful in tarnishing his good name. Everything about her, from her clothing and jewelry, to her perfume and make up were by fiendish design, to seduce and enflame a male’s passion. Even now he could feel the lure of her body calling to him to lay with her once more. Never! Immorality and debauchery had no place in his heart, and only chastity and temperance were welcome there. But now, he found himself in quite the quandary. Normally, when somepony tarnished his honor, a duel would be the appropriate response. But his chivalrous nature wouldn’t allow him to strike a mare, no matter how angry he might be. Though he was loathe to admit it, he’d only one recourse left to him now. “Lady Minoa,” he seethed, the anger he felt for her part in the loss of his honor was nearly palpable, and restraining himself was taking every ounce of his willpower. “I’d have words with you.” When she heard his challenge, she wanted to laugh in the blowhard’s face. However, his actions against her person last night were unforgivable. Though from time to time, she wasn’t above enjoying a night of passionate lovemaking with her fellow deities. But he’d tasted the fruit of her garden without her express permission, and needed to be punished for his trespass. Until she decided otherwise, the pleasures her body offered were only for her future husband to enjoy, and notaurus else. She’d thought herself safe in the Lawgiver’s care in her inebriated state. He was such a prude, she’d been sure that he’d not have any interest in lying with her. But how wrong she’d been, last night in drunken lust, he’d exhausted himself laying siege and assaulting her keep nearly a dozen times over, before falling asleep in her arms. Thinking back to what they’d done together, made even the libertine Lady of Spring blush with shame. Had this been any other place or time, she’d have shrugged things off, and forgotten it. But he’d taken liberties with her in their host’s home, in front of their fellow deities and mortals alike, and had sullied her chances at beguiling and seducing the Slave King, before the others had managed to do so. Such an affront to her pride couldn’t be ignored, and so Lady Minoa decided that Lord Triton needed to be dealt with. Snorting with rage, she stomped her hoof and shook her horns menacingly. “Lord Triton,” she growled, feeling the tension between them threatening to snap. “I have more than words to offer you.” By now, every pair of eyes in the dining hall, both mortal and divine alike, were fixed squarely on the two furious gods. It was to this scene that Celestia and Luna witnessed, before they could enjoy their breakfast. That Harmony abandoned her mother’s side to place herself in harm’s way, so she could diffuse the volatile situation. That Lord Ouroboros and Lord Cerynitis looked on in amusement, as their fellow deities threatened to tear each other apart. That Dawson, Dame Squall, and Melody, watched unfold in horrified fascination. And that the Slave King came upon, as he checked up on his guests. ***** “This is most irregular, Celestia!” Lord Triton shouted, as he was being restrained by her and several other deities’ magic. “Lord Triton,” she firmly replied, giving him a sympathetic look. “You’ve been accused of forcing yourself on another.” “This is an outrage,” he said, struggling to free himself. “If anyone was wronged in this matter, it was me!” “All lies!” Lady Minoa screeched, trying her hardest to escape the magic restraining her, so she could pound the Lord of Water with her powerful fists. “Lady Minoa, behave yourself,” Celestia crossly said, giving her a disapproving look for acting like a filly. “Not until I have satisfaction,” she seethed, giving Celestia a hard look, before looking Lord Triton squarely in the eye. “Madam, and I say that generously,” he spat, grinding his teeth in anger. “That’s my line!” “We think that thou shalt need to call a moot,” Luna said to her sister, as she struggled to keep Lady Minoa restrained. “I think not,” the Slave King said, giving both of them a careful look. “The supposed crimes occurred in my home. It’s my responsibility to cast judgment in this matter.” “Is that true, Triton?” Celestia asked, looking at the Slave King thoughtfully. “Yes it is,” he said, ceasing his struggles. “Since this is his domain, any declaration of wrong doing is his judgment to make.” Turning to look at her, Celestia looked into her golden eyes for a moment. “Lady Minoa, do you agree to abide by the Slave King’s judgment in this matter?” Giving the Slave King a sultry look, she smiled suggestively. Perhaps she could turn last night’s misfortune to her benefit. “I’ll accept his wise and fair ruling,” she said, brushing a few locks of her green hair away from her eyes. “Since it was my wine that caused their quarrel, I’ll make amends,” he said, much to everyone’s surprise. “Does that meet with both of your approval?” “I suppose so,” Lord Triton said, feeling slightly ashamed that he’d let things go so far. “We can discuss my restitution later.” The Slave King nodded in agreement. “Very well, Lord Triton,” he said, offering the Lawgiver his hand to seal their pact. Looking at Lady Minoa, he gave her a questioning look. “Do you also agree to accept my offer?” Licking her lips hungrily, she grabbed the Slave King’s outstretched hand and pulled him close to her. Before he could react, she kissed him hard, biting his lip and drawing blood. “I look forward to collecting the rest of my payment later,” she coyly said. He ran his tongue over his bleeding lips, and glowered at the minotauress. He could taste her essence mingling with the coppery flavor of his blood, as the lingering hint of her musky perfume filled his nostrils. The results from the stimuli were instantaneous, he felt himself burning with lust, as he hungrily undressed her with his eyes. He felt reason abandon him, as his primal instincts robbed him of his good sense. He was about to claim her, when he saw a half filled bottle of his draught levitated in front of him. Roughly snatching it, he questioningly looked at it. “Slave King, you’re bleeding,” Gunhilde said, directing his attention to the bottle he held in his hand. “It’ll heal your wound.” Looking at the bottle in his hand, and then again at the female he fiercely desired. He removed the bottle’s stopper with his teeth, spat it out, and drank deeply from the draught. As the refreshing emerald elixir, passed his lips, and flowed down his gullet; the burning lust assaulting him quickly subsided, and he found himself in control of his faculties once more. Returning the nearly empty bottle to Gunhilde, he looked at her appreciatively. “You have my thanks, my cup bearer,” he said, before turning his attention towards his sultry and sensual guest. “Lady Minoa, the Feral, I trust that you’ll refrain from assaulting me further, in the future?” Running her tongue suggestively against her full lips, she mischievously smiled at him. “If that’s your desire, Slave King,” she innocently said, inhaling deeply, and offering him an ample opportunity to ogle her breasts. “Perhaps later, you can assault me someplace more intimate and cozy, such as your private quarters, hmm?” Before he could answer her, Princess Luna placed herself between them, and offered her a disparaging look. “Lady Minoa, we ask thee to cease this shameful display,” she said, admonishing her for her wanton behavior. “The Slave King is our host, tis improper to abuse his generosity so and treat his home like unto a tawdry bordello.” The Lady of Spring sneered dismissively at her accusations, and leaned lustily against the Slave King. Running a finger against his chest, she nearly reignited his lust as he backed away from her sensual touch. “I think you’re simply jealous, Luna, that you failed to rouse his passions like I have,” she taunted, thrusting her bosom forward to accentuate her point. When Luna heard Minoa’s response, she butted her head against the minotauress. “Thou, wicked trollop!” she cried out, baring her teeth at her in anger. In response to her insult, Minoa parried against Luna’s horn with her own brass covered horns. Sparks flew, as the two powerful goddesses fought each other over the unspoken right to claim the Slave King for their own. “Please stop!” Celestia pleaded with them, trying to use her magic to break apart the quarreling deities. “I see, King, that you’ve been making friends everywhere,” Lord Ouroboros said with a chuckle. Looking away from the celestial cat fight between goddesses, the Slave King shot the Fire Tyrant a pointed look. “Silence, elemental,” he said, before turning away from his rival. “You’d better watch your back, man-thing,” he threatened, giving him the evil eye. “Try me, and I’ll give you a double portion of what you received last time,” the Slave King bitterly replied. “So, Ignatius and his kin aren’t enough for you?” Ouroboros insinuated, pointing a flaming finger at the Slave King. “We agreed to never speak of that again!” the Slave King hissed, agitated that he might reveal what happened when they’d last fought. “Oh, I’m sorry, Slave King,” he disingenuously apologized. “I’m afraid that was a slip of the tongue.” “Gentlestallions,” Lord Triton said, interrupting them. “Slave King, I think we should convene now, before any more fights break out.” Grateful for a chance to escape from the discussion he was holding with Lord Ouroboros, he nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, Lawgiver, that would be a prudent decision,” he said. Looking at Princess Celestia, he noticed that she’d finally managed to separate her sister and Lady Minoa from each other. “Celestia, the Radiant, now that you’ve finally managed to separate your sister from Minoa, the Feral, I suggest we begin my inauguration ceremony, before anyone else decides to get in on the fun.” “I agree, Slave King. I think there’s been enough distractions for one day, don’t you agree, Luna,” she said, giving her sister a hard look as she emphasized her name. Lowering her head in contrition, Luna gave Lady Minoa a sour look. “Forgive us, Slave King,” she said. “We allowed our passionate defense of thine honor, to remove our temperance.” “You sure did, Luna,” Minoa remarked, before getting annoyed looks from the celestial sisters. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry for making a scene with the royal stick in the mud.” “Thou cretin!” Luna hotly said, before having her mouth forcefully closed by Celestia’s magic. “Alright, I take it back,” Minoa said, holding up her hands in defeat. “That’s much better,” Celestia said, pleased that there was still some semblance of harmony among the members of the pantheon. Turning to the Slave King, she nodded at him to lead the way. Opening a portal with his magic, he gestured for his multitude of guests to enter. Looking at Harmony and Melody, he waved them over with his hand. “See to it, that their servants don’t finish what their master’s started,” he said, gesturing to his fellow deities and then to their entourages, before entering the portal and closing it behind him. “So what should we do?” Melody asked her sister, as the various mortal servants of the gods, seemed intent on avenging the various slights done to their patron deities. “I’m not sure,” she said, never having had to deal with so many different factions at once. “Isn’t Aria supposed to be in charge of security, why isn’t she doing something?” “I don’t rightfully know, I haven’t seen her anywhere,” Melody replied, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “Keep them from starting a brawl, until I bring Aria and Master Scourge back,” Harmony said, while muttering to herself about how she wasn’t being paid enough to deal with this. Seeing her sister’s agitation, Melody looked for somefeather to help round up their missing sibling. “Oh, Harmony,” she sang, as she had a brilliant idea. “Yeah?” Harmony replied. “Take Dawson, with you,” she said, pointing to their half-brother. “Who me?” he asked, stepping away from some very angry looking chevaleresse who seemed to be looking for a fight to restore their liege lord’s honor. “Yes you, silly!” she said, pulling him over. “Dawson, would you be a dear and accompany Harmony as she retrieves our wayward sister?” she sweetly asked. “Besides, it’ll be good for the two of you to get formally acquainted. We’re family after all.” Harmony gave her sister a pointed look. “There’s no way he’s my brother,” she said, denying the implications of having Dawson for a sibling. “If I wasn’t sure we come from the same mother, I’d say I had no sisters either.” “Oh you,” Melody replied, giving her a teasing smile. “By the way, Harmony, how should I keep everyfeather occupied, until your return?” Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t know, Melody, try improvising something. Just don’t let anyfeather go crazy,” she said, before motioning for Dawson to follow her out of the dining hall. Melody looked worriedly at the dozens of restless ponies, diamond dogs, seaponies, and various other races that were feeling the itch to fight. “So is um… anyfeather up for a game of charades?” she asked, hoping to keep them distracted until Master Scourge and Aria returned, to enforce the peace. “Try to keep up, Dawson. Or should I say Dustin?” Harmony asked, giving him a pointed look. When confronted by her for his earlier deception, he gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Harmony, Melody suggested it, so I could compete,” he said, explaining his reasons for concealing his identity. Before they could leave dining hall, Dame Squall floated towards them. “Might I join you?” she asked Harmony. “Won’t your sisters take offense to seeking the companionship of mudslingers?” she testily replied. “Master Scourge told me in the sorrow of my defeat, that our master’s quarrels needn’t be ours,” Dame Squall answered, looking directly into Harmony’s piercing green eyes. “It wasn’t until today, that I understood the wisdom of his words.” When she heard her reasons for wanting to join them, her hard features softened. “Alright, Dame Squall, you may accompany us,” she said, walking out of the hall and towards Aria’s and Master Scourge’s quarters. “Perhaps if we can see past our differences, the rest of them might as well.” Thinking of the irony of their situation, Dawson let out a small chuckle. Both Harmony and Dame Squall gave him a questioning look. “I think it’s a bit funny,” he said, gesturing to their group. “What is, Dawson?” Dame Squall asked. “That members of the three most warlike races, are united towards a common goal like ponies,” he said. “All we need is a dragon in our ranks, and we’d be all set.” “While a dragon might be overkill for fetching somefeather… wait!” Harmony said, before falling silent and holding up a finger to her beak to ensure the others did the same. They were near Aria’s quarters, and noticed that her door was ajar. Moving stealthily towards it, Harmony focused on her innate elemental magic, and motioned for the others to ready themselves for anything. Slowly opening the door, she scowled when she saw Aria lying unconscious, while a translucent ghast was attempting to feed on her slowly fading life force. When the ghast saw new prey entering the room, it opened its gaping maw, hungry for more. Though ghasts were members of the ghost family, and as insubstantial as mist. They were amongst the most deadly of apparitions. Unlike their ghost and poltergeist cousins, ghasts actively sought out the living to drain them of their life forces. Though the wards protecting the Slave King’s palace were nearly impenetrable to the horrors of the dead city, from time to time, some of hated fiends would find their way inside. Absent of magic or weapons forged from arcanum, there was no known way to defeat such creatures. The ghast, seeing that its new prey was unarmed, reached for them with its spectral tentacles, intent on adding them to its feast. Though she’d attacked him unprovoked earlier, Dawson knew Melody would be inconsolable should Aria die. Unwilling to abandon the familial ties he’d forged over the past week, he felt a fury unlike any other he’d known. She was his sister, his kin, and he’d protect her. Balling up his right talon into a fist, he drew it back and prepared to release the full fury of the Domain of Air on the wicked creature that dared to harm his family. Even before reaching the door, she knew something was very wrong. Though she was only a chevaleresse, and not a full-fledged knight, she could sense the evil inside that room. When the door was opened, she instinctually pulled back in revulsion at what she saw. It was one of the undead horrors, from the Diamond Vale ruins. Seeing Aria near death’s door, at the fin of such a creature, filled her with righteous fury. Although she was unarmed, she uttered a silent prayer to the Lawgiver, and prepared to send the beast back to the Pit, from whence it came. Even though she didn’t really get along with her, as sisters, they shared an unbreakable bond. Though Aria had seen plenty of combat, as far as she knew, she’d never been this close to dying. Forced for the first time, to face the possibility of losing her sister to the Summerlands, her green eyes flashed with dark power. With a guttural cry of rage, Harmony the Black, drew upon the power of the shadows, and showed the monstrosity exactly how she’d earned her title. ***** “I hope you’ve found the accommodations to your liking,” the Slave King said, gesturing to large chamber he’d constructed for this occasion. The large room was in the form of an oval, lined with large multicolored crystals that provided illumination for his guests. Seating designed for each of their unique builds had been provided, while he’d fashioned a stone throne for himself. Sitting directly across from him, Princess Celestia patiently sat while wearing an enigmatic smile. The seating had been arranged, so that those he felt most likely to make attempts on his life, had been placed as far from him as possible. In his paranoia, he’d prepared multiple access points into the chamber, beyond the three meeting rooms Celestia had asked for. From his throne, he had easy access to the manufactorium, his treasury, several hidden avenues of escape, and even a ley line to the Well of Eternity itself. If Celestia was determined to kill him, he felt confident in his ability to strike back with a fatal blow if needed. “Slave King,” Celestia said, bowing her head and offering him a serene smile. “I speak for myself, and the rest of the pantheon, when I say you've been an impeccable host.” “Here, here!” Lord Triton shouted, pounding against his armrests appreciatively. “I’d say with the exception of this morning’s earlier kerfuffle, your inauguration has gone swimmingly.” “I sense, Celestia, the Radiant, that you wish to make an unexpected announcement regarding my inauguration,” the Slave King cautiously said. Celestia opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could speak, pink clouds formed above their heads. With a crack of lightning, Discord, the Scion of Chaos, appeared in all his chaotic glory, exploding in a shower of confetti and glitter beneath a flashing disco ball. He was wearing a garish party hat on top of his slicked back mane, while a pair of oversized sunglasses were perched on his muzzle. He was wearing a zebra striped leisure suit and pink shirt, with a thick gold chain around his neck, that bore the letter D, while dancing to a horrible noise that couldn’t justifiably be called music. After he was sure he’d annoyed everypony sufficiently, he snapped his talons, silencing the discordant music, and unfurled giant banners behind him that displayed, Happy Five Hundredth, Slave King, in exaggerated letters. “Surprised to see me, Slave King?” he asked, blowing a party favor in his face. As the blowout expanded fully, it made an obnoxious thweeping noise. “Discord, how dare you interrupt these proceedings,” Celestia sternly said, worried that her carefully laid plans were about to be derailed by the unpredictable god of chaos. “How in Equestria, did you manage to escape your stone prison?” Snapping his talons, he teleported in front of her, and booped her nose. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out, princess,” he said with a mischievous grin. “But to answer your question, this is too auspicious an occasion for me to miss.” Lord Triton, well aware of Celestia’s plan, gave the trickster a stern look. “Discord,” he lectured, “you were banished from attending all interdomain events unanimously by the entire pantheon. You have no right to be here.” “Oh, Triton, why so serious? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the reef?” Discord asked, while leering at Lady Minoa. “Or maybe it was in the wrong bed?” “Discord!” Triton shouted, feeling his blood pressure rising. “No wonder you’ve been celibate for over a century,” he replied, whispering to the rest of the Pantheon. “You’ve got no sense of humor.” Though he was enjoying the barbs at their expense, the Slave King was worried that this meeting might descend into pandemonium if he continued annoying the others. “Discord,” he said. “Why have you come?” “Well to be honest, I don’t get out much, and this celebration seems like it’s much too fun to pass up,” he replied. “But, had I known what you had planned for last night, I’d have come much sooner.” “Discord, I meant, why here, and why now?” he asked, wondering if the trickster god had come to his aid. “Discord…” Celestia warned, channeling magic into her horn. Seeing how angry he’d made her, he rolled his eyes, snapped his talons, and sat down in a large recliner that had materialized behind him. “Don’t worry, Celestia,” he said, with a small chuckle. “I won’t spoil the surprise, I’m only here to watch things unfold.” “That still doesn’t explain how you overcame your banishment, Discord,” Triton said. Snapping his paw, Discord summoned a large book in front of him labeled, Da Rules. Removing a pair of reading glasses from his leisure suit’s front pocket, he put them on the bridge of his snout, licked his talon, and leafed through the pages of the large tome. “Ah yes, the unanimous decree clause,” he said, clearing his throat. “Article forty-seven, sub-section twenty-seven, paragraph six, line four, states, and I quote.” Whatsoever accord or decree shall be reached by unanimous consent, by the Pantheon in its entirety, excluding accused parties or plaintiffs, shall be considered binding by the power of the moot. Having finished reading, Da Rules, Discord closed the book, put away his reading glasses, and threw the heavy tome over his shoulder as it exploded into a shower of papers. “So, as you can see, Lawgiver,” he smugly said. “I’m within my legal rights to attend the Slave King’s inauguration.” “That’s impossible,” Lord Triton grumbled, angry that the law was somehow being subverted by Discord for some nefarious purpose. “No, that’s a loophole,” he corrected, sticking out his tongue at the Lawgiver as far as it could go. When he realized what he’d meant, the Slave King released a boisterous laugh. Because he’d never agreed to prevent Discord from attending his functions, the unanimous consent clause had no power here. Seeing the looks of consternation on much of the pantheon’s faces, he gave the trickster a stern look. “Discord, you can stay,” he said. “But mind yourself, or I’ll have to banish you as well,” “Oh, ho, ho, Slave King, you won’t regret it, I promise you,” he said, pleased that he was being allowed to stay. Knowing he was bested once more, Lord Triton bit his tongue and waited for Celestia’s justice to fall upon the Slave King’s head. Though suffering so many humiliations this week was hard to bare, he’d have his vindication once the Lord of Earth received his comeuppance. Celestia looked at Discord, and sighed. The draconequus was an unknown element, which threatened to unravel everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. Though she felt placated by his promise to behave himself, she had no idea how he would truly behave. Deciding to ignore the trickster for now, she focused her attention towards the Slave King. “With the arrival of your five hundredth year as Lord of the Earth,” she said, offering him a warm smile. “Your fellow deities, and I, wish to welcome you to adulthood, and recognize you as our brother and equal.” “I don’t understand, Celestia, the Radiant,” the Slave King confusedly said, as she focused her magic into her horn. “Stand and be recognized, Slave King,” she said, lowering her horn and approaching him. Standing up, his muscles tensed, as he prepared to fight for his life. Silently, he cursed himself for not having the forethought to leave one of the prototypes nearby. With her so close to him, the only choice left to him now, was to wait for her to strike with her horn first, and hope to somehow deflect her attack. Looking at him, Celestia’s heart was gladdened that phase one was almost complete. She was sure he would be stunned to say the least, once she’d revealed her surprise for him. She was so close now, he was confused why she was approaching him so slowly. He wondered, Is it because she’s so confident in her ability to land a fatal first strike? But why did the gentle smile she wear, threaten to melt his heart? He found himself, almost wishing for her to run him through, if it meant he could embrace her before he passed. She was so close to him now, he found himself drowning inside her lavender eyes, as her horn was nearly touching him. “Slave King,” Celestia said, lowering her horn to his wrists. “It’s my pleasure as the head of the Pantheon, to expunge your banishment, and welcome you into the Pantheon as a member in good standing.” The Slave King, who’d up to this point had been so sure that Celestia only held ill will towards him, looked down at his wrists, and looked on in a stupor as the ethereal chains of his banishment, broke free before fading away into the aether. No longer blocked from the domains that had been long denied to him for centuries, he could finally feel the power of his peers, ebbing and flowing against his own. It was in this moment, he began understanding why she valued harmony so. Seeing that he was overwhelmed, she reached out to hold him close with her wing. But before she could embrace him, the enraged voice of Lord Ouroboros shook the room. “What travesty is this?” he roared in protest. Facing away from him, Celestia placed herself protectively between the Slave King and the furious Fire Tyrant. “Lord Ouroboros,” she firmly said. “Lord Triton and I, decided that the Slave King’s banishment has filled its purpose in reforming him.” “Have you all forgotten, how he defied the will of the Pantheon, after slaying poor Darkpaw?” he asked, leveling a fiery claw at the Slave King. “Or how he nearly brought Equestria to ruin, with his tantrum?” “The Slave King has paid for his transgressions,” Lord Triton said, joining Celestia’s side. “He’s made numerous concessions to secure the peace, and has honored them all.” “Have you gone senile, Lord Triton?” the flames demanded. “Those concessions you secured were nearly worthless, and left me impoverished.” “Yet, you agreed to them, Lord Ouroboros,” Celestia reminded him. “Sit down, Lord Ouroboros,” Lord Triton advised him. “Before you embarrass yourself any further.” “This isn’t over,” the dragon growled, furious that the one thing he held over the Slave King’s head was denied to him. Turning to Lord Triton, she bowed once. “I suggest we convene the Solar and Lunar Councils,” she said. “The Solar and Lunar Councils?” the Slave King asked, unsure what they were. “The councils, Slave King,” Lord Triton explained, “are divided between the sexes. Solar for the stallions…” “And Lunar for the mares,” Celestia continued. “We normally only call these councils when somepony on the pantheon has come of age.” “I see…” he mused, unsure what purpose these councils could possibly serve, that the moots did not. “We shall assemble together in an hour, once each council has come to an agreement,” Celestia told Triton. “Agreed,” he replied, as the various deities went their separate ways. Looking down at his wrists, and then at the nearly empty room, the Slave King worriedly knit his brow. I think Celestia’s plot may be more complicated then I first realized, he thought to himself. “Oh, don’t be so grim, Slave King,” Discord said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “This is the opportunity of several lifetimes. It’s not often you get your pick of the litter. So tell me, who’s your first choice?” “My first choice?” he said, not sure what he meant. “Discord!” Celestia’s voice called after him. “Oops, spoilers,” Discord said with a chuckle. Shaking his head in confusion at the draconequus’s behavior, he followed him into the chamber where the Solar Council was to be held.