//------------------------------// // 10. Legacy // Story: Dysphoria, Arc 5: Equestria // by thedarkprep //------------------------------// 10. Legacy “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you pass.” “No, I’m sorry, but I have urgent business with the princess.” The guard fixed on Octavia his toughest glare, his patience running shorter than it should have. There was not anything unusual about this situation; after all, ponies often tried to get a private audience with the princess, disregarding protocol and trying to intimidate the guard. The difference was that most ponies gave up after an hour of arguing, but this one was going on her third hour and still standing strong. “Yes yes, you can help with the rising tensions,” he said wearily. “I heard you the first time. But, as I’ve told you, even if you had the answer to fix everything right this second, we could not let you go through without a prior appointment.” “Ugh, I do not have the time for this,” Octavia exclaimed, rushing past the guard. Immediately, the rest of the guards converged on her location, attempting to capture and restrain her. She dodged a few of them, fighting the impulse to strike them, but there proved to be too many and, as she ran around another one of the guards, a pegasus pony tackled her to the ground. Within seconds he had twisted her forelegs back, pinning her down. Octavia, however, was not ready to surrender. She began struggling against the guard, putting her earth pony strength up against his weight and training. The guard in turn found himself in a dilemma. He knew that he could keep her restrained regardless of what she did, but doing so would ensure that the mare would end up dislocating her shoulder or worse. In fact, he could almost hear the sound of the strain on her bones as she pushed harder and harder, increasing the tension. “Unhoof the mare at once!” The guard breathed a sigh of relief, disengaging from his prisoner before rejoining the rest of the guards who were standing at attention through the perimeter. It took Octavia a bit longer to realize that she was free, before struggling to stand up despite the aching in her muscles. Then, brushing herself off, she turned to face her savior, unsurprised at the pony she found standing there. After all, only one pony had that voice. Princess Luna stared back, her stoic mask in place and her eyes set in a piercing stare. If she heard Octavia thanking her for her rescue, she made no note of it and when she spoke, it was with a tone of cold authority and barely concealed annoyance. “What is thy business in our castle?” “I need to speak to your sister,” Octavia said as evenly as she could. “I have something I need to give her; it’s very important.” “Many a pony seeks an audience with our sister, Ms. Philharmonica,” Luna said dismissively. “But neither noble nor plebian hath the privilege to do so without going through the proper channels, which we should mention include not the trivialization of castle defenses or orders from the Royal Guard.” “Oh fine,” Octavia exclaimed. “If I apologize would you please take me to see your sister?” Luna’s mask slipped for a second, surprise showing on her features. Not often did one have the nerve to talk to her like that; this left her with a decision to make. She could either punish the pony for their severe lack of respect, or she could just roll with it. “Add a curtsy to thy reparations and we might allow it,” Luna said. Octavia stared for a second, unsure on whether the princess was being serious, before performing a rather over-the-top curtsy in the direction of the guards. “I’m sorry I disobeyed your orders sir,” Octavia said, speaking to the pony she had been arguing with earlier. He in turn looked at the princess for an appropriate reaction. “Well, thou hast heard the mare,” she said testily. “Right. I accept your apology,” he stammered. “Great, now if thou wouldst follow me, I believe we have much to discuss,” Luna said, walking towards the castle entrance. Octavia stared for a second before following along, slowing her pace only after catching up with the princess of the night. “I must admit I’m impressed,” Octavia stated. “Even a year ago they would not have caught me. There must be twice as much security as there used to be at least.” Luna gave a sad nod. “Tis a change necessary for the times,” she admitted. “Tensions are at an all-time high, and the recent negotiations between our sister and the various mayors and new-founded political groups have failed. Violence may not have erupted as of yet, but we believe it to be a matter of time.” “We as in you, or we as in you and your sister?” “Didst thou see only night-guards standing at attention?” “Things must really be bad then,” Octavia responded. “Princess Celestia always thinks so highly of us. To think that she’s preparing for a conflict… Wait, should you be telling me this?” “News of the failed negotiations shall spread soon enough,” Luna said. “We may also be more willing in providing you with privileged information with the expectation of reciprocation. And on that note, what was so important that thou would risk imprisonment to reach my sister?” Octavia’s demeanor dropped, but she continued walking. “I have something to help with the growing tensions,” she said. “It’s something I’ve been working on since the funeral.” “Ah yes, the funeral,” Luna said pensively. “Thou is referring to the one held for Evening Rose but a few months ago, yes? Such a somber occasion, tears in abundance and the nightmares that followed… sad musings, indeed. Thou spoke well, though.” “You were there, Princess Luna?” “Indeed I was,” she said, nodding. “Rose was one of the few ponies to ever write to me directly. I would be remiss to not attend her… farewell. We made sure to watch from a distance, however, unlike our sister, who felt compelled to make her plans public.” “I take it you disagree with her actions?” “Aye,” Luna said. “We agree on finally taking a stance in favor of the transpony plight, as we should have done from the beginning, but we wish it had been done with subtlety and tact. And yet, we cannot blame her. She spoke the truth in that she feels responsible for the mare’s death, as if she could have stopped it somehow or seen it coming. It has plagued her nighttime dreams and daytime thoughts, a constant weight on her mind. We recognize her need to make up for whatever slight she has imagined, even if we do not understand it.” “You mean they did not tell you?” Octavia asked after a moment’s silence. “Tell us what?” the princess asked. “Are thou implying that the knowledge of Celestia’s guilt is in your possession?” Octavia had to fight the impulse to shrink back against the princess’s question as the resonance of the same rattled the various portraits on the hallway walls. “Yes,” she answered cautiously. “But it’s not my secret to share, at least not yet. That’s why I’m here, though... I need to talk to Princess Celestia about what happened, and about the truth. If things go right, everypony will know what happened, including you.” Luna eyed the mare with interest as she spoke. “Very well,” she said finally, stopping at the throne room door. “You have our interest. We shall grant you an audience with our sister on the condition that we be present throughout. That said, be aware that if your cause truly is in the name of Evening Rose, there is more than one monarch you could turn to for help. In the future, we expect being allowed to offer our aid. Understood?” Octavia nodded respectfully. “Then let us proceed.” Octavia took a deep breath as the princess pushed the door open, and took a second to adjust to the brightness within the room. Stepping inside, Octavia’s eyes were drawn to the large and ornate glass windowpanes, which not only allowed the light in, making it brighter than the outside hallways, but also tinted it in various hues, giving the room an ethereal appearance. In its glow she could see a crowd of ponies walking back and forth while working on various tasks regarding the day-court, a gentle rumble of movement filling her ears, as well as the princess of the day sitting on her throne. Celestia, Octavia could see, was wearing her regal smile and had an air of peace and tranquility about her as she watched her court at work, despite the tension and uproar happening just outside the castle walls. In here the world was right. In here nothing was wrong. In here she had control. Her eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on the two mares that had just entered and, as Octavia and Celestia locked eyes, her mask faltered for a second. “If I could have your attention, please,” Celestia called out, not breaking her eye contact with the cellist despite now having the entire room looking in her direction. “The day-court and all of its tasks are now suspended for the rest of the day. We shall reconvene tomorrow. Until then, you are excused.” “But Princess! The new mayor of Baltimare’s threats and ‘platform’ need to be addressed post haste. If not, we risk-“ “I am aware of the tasks at hoof, counselor,” Celestia interrupted. “However, it would seem like I have a more immediate concern to attend to.” As one, the ponies in the room turned to face the object of Celestia’s gaze, after which they bowed before exiting the room, bowing once again for Princess Luna as they left. Soon only three beings remained in the room. “Sister, thank you for escorting my guest. I will make sure that she is taken care of. You may go rest now.” Princess Luna, however, did not budge. “Sorry, sister, but we shall remain here,” Luna said. “This mare suggested that what she is here to discuss promises to shed light upon your recent woes. Thusly, we refuse to exit until her business here is concluded. That is, unless thou wouldst call upon your rank to force us.” “Calm yourself, sister,” Celestia said, shaking her head. “We are equals and I would not force you to leave if you do not wish to. Now, Octavia. It is a pleasure to see you, though I must admit that it is not unexpected, as Discord mentioned a month ago to expect you. Tell, me, does this have to with his whereabouts and the project he said he’s working on?” “I’m sorry but that’s not the case,” Octavia said, shaking her head. “I found him at her grave and what we discussed included only my project, not his.” “Very well,” Celestia said, taking a soft sigh. “It’d be nice to know where he is and what he’s up to, though. Sometimes he leaves for days at a time, which is… worrying. In any case, what, may I ask, is the reason for your visit and this project you discussed with Discord? “You may and I will answer, but first I must ask a question, if that’s ok with you,” Octavia said, waiting for the princess’s nod before continuing. “Why did you let Rose die?” The next few moments passed in a flash. They began with Celestia’s composure shattering, sadness and grief towering over shock. Then there was a powerful flap of Luna’s wings, propelling the night princess to stand between her sister and the cellist. Finally, there was yelling. “How darest thou?!” Luna asked, her voice booming through the room. “We did not allow thy presence for you to levy such accusations. You shall leave the premises at once and never again bother my sister with such slande-“. “Luna, stand down!” Both mares turned to meet Celestia’s stern glare. Tears ran down both her cheeks, but despite this her appearance was no longer one of sorrow but one of anger. “I fear that I have put this conversation off long enough, so if you’re going to stay here for the meeting I’m going to need you to stay quiet no matter what you hear,” she said. “We’ll discuss what you hear later, understand?” Celestia waited until Luna gave a nervous nod before addressing Octavia. “Now you,” she said. “How much did Discord tell you?” “Enough,” Octavia answered. “He told me his perspective on everything, his involvement, and answered a lot of my questions, through which I know everything that happened. That being said, I did not find out from him: he only confirmed what I already knew.” “Then how did you find out? How many know?” “I believe I asked you a question first,” Octavia said, doing her best at remaining strong despite facing down the princesses. “I will explain everything regarding me, but there is something I need to hear first. Why didn’t you save her?” Celestia cringed at the question, taking a deep breath before responding. “I could not have saved her,” she responded softly. “The wounds were too severe, and even if Discord had brought her to me personally, she was beyond saving.” “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Octavia said coldly. “I mean before she was attacked. You could have stopped it from happening. Discord, Rose… they both honestly thought that you did not know what Discord knew, but I don’t believe it for a second. If Discord has the ability to see into the future, then I’m sure you do as well. You knew what was coming.” “The ability to see the future is well beyond my reach,” Celestia said. “There is a certain order to things, which includes its limitations. Discord’s chaotic nature can bypass said limitations, which is why he has the ability. I couldn’t have looked ahead, not by myself, at least.” “But Discord wanted to tell you, he pleaded with you to listen,” Octavia argued. “Discord outright begged you. He knew what was coming and you turned him away. You are our god! You were given a chance to see what was coming, to keep your subjects safe... to keep Rose safe! And you turned it away? What kind of god leaves such matters to luck?” “And what kind of god do you know has limitations?” Celestia snapped testily. Silence followed her remark. She then took a few calming breaths as she regained her composure. “There is something you need to understand Octavia. I’m not a god.” Celestia looked into Octavia’s eyes, as she used her magic to remove her own crown, placing it on her recently vacated seat. “My sister and I have great powers, and we are the rulers of Equestria. We have many responsibilities and our powers are unmatched. We are also among the wisest in the nation and we do all within our power to help as many ponies as possible. But these things do not make us gods,” she said. “We are wise due to our age, and due to our learning from the best scholars of the ages. We are powerful by birthright. We are revered and loved… but that does not make us gods. We make mistakes, this among them… We are fallible.” A new tear fell down her cheek. “You want to know why I didn’t look into the future? Because I was scared of making a mistake,” she continued. “Knowledge of the future is something very dangerous, and I don’t know that I could have made the right choices. All I can do is to try to do the best I can, and to make amends for my faults.” Octavia waited to make sure Celestia was finished with her answer. It was then that she graced the princess with a sad smile. “That’s what I thought,” she said. “At least that’s what you told Rose. I just wanted to hear it from you.” “What I told Rose?” Celestia asked. “How do you know about that conversation?” “It has to do with my project,” Octavia said, before digging into her saddlebag from which she pulled six notebooks out and placed them on the floor before the princess. “This is how I found out.” “What are these?” Celestia asked, using her magic to levitate and examine of the notebooks. “I bet you didn’t know, but Rose was a bit of a writer,” Octavia said. “That, combined with her obsessive compulsions, means that we have a near complete record of her life.” Octavia worked hard to stifle a laugh at Celestia’s and Luna’s reaction. “They’re more ponylike than I realized,” she thought. “Rose always carried a notebook with her in which she wrote everything that happened to her. Her thoughts, ideas, journal entries – everything was written down and stored. When she ran out of room, she just got another notebook, and she never threw anything away,” Octavia said. “This includes the time period she spent touring Equestria, and when I mean she documented everything, I mean everything.” “So you mean my conversation with her?” “Probably written down seconds after she left this room,” Octavia confirmed, nodding. “One would think that her entire life would amount to more than six small notebooks,” Luna remarked, speaking for the first time since her outburst. “It does,” Octavia said. “After her death I went through hundreds upon hundreds of notebooks, all filled to the brim, and even then I didn’t find everything I needed. Huge parts were unaccounted for, either things lost in notebooks or things she didn’t have the time to write down.” “Then what are these?” Celestia asked, pointing at the notebooks present. “When Rose died, I knew I had to do something,” Octavia said. “I knew her best. I knew everything about her… and I knew that there were things that could be done even if she wasn’t here to do them herself. It was then that it occurred to me that many could learn from her life and experiences. I made sure that every pony had a way to do that.” She gestured at the notebooks. “After the funeral I collected all the notebooks, looking to compile all the entries and parts relating to Rose as a transpony,” she said. “Her thoughts, feelings, problems, actions, it’s all there. Coming out to her parents, escaping Canterlot, her life in Ponyville, her role in the changeling invasion, the trial, and even the tour. I couldn’t find everything, though, so I also interviewed a few key figures that she mentioned in her writings. Once I had what I needed, I compiled it all into those six notebooks, each detailing a particular part of her life and struggle as a transpony.” “And you’re giving these to me?” Octavia shook her head. “They’re not a gift,” she said. “These are a responsibility. You said that Rose’s death should not be hollow. Her life could help many, through sharing her experience and through learning from her. But she’s not here anymore, just her writings. I want you to read through these, and then I want you to publish them.” “Are thou giving my sister orders?” Luna asked menacingly. “Yes, I guess I am,” Octavia responded, nonplussed. “Look, I think that this will go a long way in helping to calm, or at the very least limit, the rising tensions out there. This could help you fix things and make Equestria peaceful again.” “But that is a secondary effect, and not the one you are hoping for,” Celestia said. Octavia nodded. “Rose struggled with this alone,” she said. “She felt alone, secluded, and thought herself a freak. When she eventually began working through her problems, a lot of it was rather… problematic. It took her a while to come to certain conclusions, to learn certain lessons. I fear that there may be ponies out there like her who need guidance, or advice, or just to know that they’re not alone. These books can provide that. I want to help them, the way that Rose would have.” Celestia sat in silence for a moment, during which Luna picked up the first of the notebooks with her magic, bringing it close to herself to examine. “It shall be done,” Celestia declared. “If this is really Rose’s life, it deserves to be shared. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. Expect it to be published and distributed soon.” “Thank you,” Octavia said, bowing. “I leave this in your hooves.” She began walking away without a second thought. However, Celestia called out to her as she reached the door. “What should we call these books?” Octavia turned around, staring at the books while recalling the information held within. She thought of Rose’s life, Script’s plight, Slant’s burden, looking for the thing that connected the three ponies, the ever present condition. “Dysphoria,” she said, as she left. “You should call it Dysphoria.” The sound of rustling leaves sifted through the air, much like the autumn wind that toyed with them. These trees remained unchanged, unlike their peers outside the gates where one could see leaves dancing in the breeze beside bare trunks and branches. Not much changed inside these gates, which made the area feel peaceful and familiar, even when submerged underneath a blanket of moonlight. Trees, graves, metal, and stone seemed to glimmer in the night, and yet images of the setting sun came to mind. There had been more tears back then. Two stallions silently kept vigil over a grave, their dark, unadorned jackets in stark contrast to the illuminated limestone in front of which they stood. The grave was covered now, as it had been for a while, but the memories of the dirt and gravel were fresh in their minds, causing the younger of the two to subconsciously wipe at his hooves, knowing full well that nothing was there while also understanding that what was there could not be removed. “They should be here,” he said, breaking the silence. “They should all be here, after all she did. I cannot believe no one else showed up.” “That’s unfair and you know it,” the other one said. “You know full well that not everyone can make it to Ponyville every year. Life gets in the way, things happen, priorities shift. That doesn’t mean they don’t care or don’t remember, it just means that they don’t need to make their way to the gravesite. If nothing else, she was my sister, and if I’m not upset, you’re not allowed to be upset either.” “I know,” the stallion said, shifting uncomfortably beside Perfect Rhyme. “They’re probably grieving at home, or honoring her memory or something. I just wish they were here. This graveyard should not be empty tonight.” “And it’s not,” Perfect said. “We’re both here to pay our respects, but please understand that a lonely grave would not have been something my sister would have worried about. Think about how far Equestria’s come. Think about transponies everywhere... That’s honoring her memory better than us standing here looking solemn ever could. You being happy, for example; she had a part in your happiness, did she not?” “I wouldn’t have gotten to be who I am without her,” the stallion said, nodding. “Discord, Theory, Organizer, they did all the legwork, but without her to start things, it wouldn’t have been possible.” “Then I think that instead of being upset that others aren’t here to be sorrowful, you should be happy that you got the chance she never got, and that others will now as well.” A silence passed between the two for a while. “I’m sorry,” Perfect said. “I didn’t mean to sound so bitter, especially when trying to cheer you up.” “It’s ok, I understand,” the stallion said, scooting closer. Perfect, in turn, leaned against the stallion, nuzzling into his mane. “You’re still grieving, even after twelve years. No one blames you. I miss her too, obviously, but you’re right. We should celebrate her legacy rather than mourn her memory.” The two embraced the other, loosing a few tears despite the comfort. “I’ll be ok,” whispered Perfect. “Let’s go home, Breeze.” “Yeah,” the stallion answered. “Lets.” “Well, that was mediocre.” Octavia’s eyes jolted open as she began searching for the source of the comment. She was in her home, where she had just been playing a string of melodies on her cello, old and new compositions tied together by a somber tone and the memories they evoked. Normally she made it a point to perform her pieces, even when home alone, but tonight she was content to simply play them, reigning in her emotions lest they detract from her thoughts. “What was that you said, Vinyl?” she asked, pinpointing the white unicorn in the room. “That was mediocre,” Vinyl repeated. “Yes, you played the cello well, congratulations, but you put barely any emotion into it. I’m kind of insulted.” “Oh shush,” Octavia responded. “If you must know, I’m just thinking about stuff and playing to relax. No point in getting myself worked up or anything.” “Excuses,” Vinyl said, with a smirk. And then Octavia began laughing. Vinyl Scratch, to her credit, did not freak out. Instead, she looked around in confusion before settling on waiting for her ex-marefriend to calm down. Something that after a few minutes she realized was not going to happen. “Ok, I think I missed something,” Vinyl said. Octavia in turn began gasping for breath as she picked herself off of the floor. “Sorry,” she said in between pants. “I’m so sorry, you just reminded me of an old friend. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were doing an impression of him or something.” “I guess considering the day, it’s good to think of her, right?” Vinyl said, stepping next to her marefriend. “Yes,” Octavia said. “Oh, how I wish you had been there during the idiot phase. You’d be laughing on the floor alongside me.” “Speaking of old times,” Vinyl began, levitating a notebook into their living room. “I found this while cleaning things out. Looks old. Is it important?” “Oh, I can’t believe you found that!” Octavia exclaimed. “I haven’t seen that for about eleven years.” “What is it?” “Oh, well, when I was compiling Rose’s notebook, it brought back a lot of memories about the time when we were together in school, so I wrote it all down as best as I remembered it, with the help of her notebooks from around that time,” Octavia explained. “After I was done, I put the notebook away somewhere special where I couldn’t lose it. As it often happens, that meant that I was unable to find it again.” Vinyl stared at the notebook suspended in her magic aura, inspecting the cover with great detail. “Oh, wow, it must be quite the story.” “It is,” Octavia said. “Would you like me to read it to you?” “Yeah,” Vinyl responded. “I only met Rose after she moved to Ponyville, and I’d like to hear about what happened while you were away at school anyway. Not that I don’t trust what you wrote to me in your letters back then.” “I think you’ll find that I left quite a bit out,” Octavia said, stifling a giggle. “Very well, come here.” Vinyl sat next to Octavia, delivering the notebook into her grasp. Without hesitation, Octavia opened it up to the first page, leaning against Vinyl in an affectionate manner. She thought of the memories held within the notebook, the heartbreaks, the laughs, the tears, and the history of her oldest friend, a story she could now share with her wife. And so Octavia read, keeping the memory of Slant Rhyme, Script, and Evening Rose alive and well.