//------------------------------// // Prologue // Story: Direction // by Darth Link 22 //------------------------------// Fancypants was a rich pony, but one that never shied away from less luxurious activities. So he felt comfortable just outside Zecora's home, watching her cook in her outdoor cauldron, sitting on a hoofmade chair, even if he didn't feel right at home. Who could in the Everfree Forest, aside from the zebra herself? He adjusted his monocle as he watched his host drop a few more leaves into her cauldron. "And you're certain this can be done?" "It truly has been such a task, Trying to accomplish what you ask, But time is plenty and your need is great, And good things come to those who wait." "Time isn't that plentiful," Fancypants sighed. He took another sip of tea. He liked the tea, and paid Zecora a good deal for a steady supply of it. "I understand your want for haste, Trust that time I do not waste." Zecora grabbed the last ingredient off the shelf, another type of herb, and with great care she sprinkled it in. The mixture began to bubble a great deal, as if she had fed the fire burning underneath it. It changed from green to blue to a deep purple, finally giving a large bubble that popped with a gaseous sound, as if the pot had burped. Fancypants and Zecora had both flinched at this reaction, and neither untensed their muscles for several seconds. They simply watched as the liquid emitted a strange smoke. Finally, Fancypants dared ask. "Is it... is it a success?" "I truly do not know, But I sincerely hope it is so." "We need to test it." "We cannot test it here, I fear, Twilight and friends are much too near." Fancypants hated that subject. Everytime Rarity and her friends entered his brain at the same time as this dealing, he felt himself pulled two ways. He liked Rarity, he might have courted her if he wasn't spoken for, but she wouldn't understand. Twilight wouldn't understand. She was loyal to the Princess, who was a kind and wise ruler, but she might not understand. Maybe she would. It couldn't be risked. "Then where?" "In the deserts, wide and vast, You can find the answers at last." "There? But the buffalo... and the guards are still searching out there for the changelings..." "The guards have eased up, their search has found little, And of this plan you should not belittle. As for the buffalo, worry not. They migrate plenty, we won't be sought." Fancypants thought a moment. It's true, the search for the changelings had been fruitless. The guards had pulled out except for an outpost set up there. It had been a violation of the treaty with the buffalo tribes, but they didn't complain, they knew the danger. In fact, buffalo were often seen there, reporting on any leads. But actively looking for the changelings was long over for both groups. The desert was calm. The calm before the storm. A cliché, he knew, but very appropriate. "Very well. I'll have some ponies here tomorrow to move. Ponies I trust, I assure you. Will you be coming." "I fear that this time there's a need, My curiosity I must feed.” Leaving Everfree. She had never agreed to that, hadn't expected her to agree to it now. The offer was customary by this point. "Truly? You don't think Ponyville will be suspicious at you leaving? No offense, my dear, but in a small town any non-pony sticks out..." "If I make an appearance at tomorrow's noon, I shan’t be missed at any time soon, A request I will make for peace will sway, Even keeping my young friend Apple Bloom away." "Very well. Just be careful. You know what's at stake." Zecora gave him a look, and he amended his statement. "What could be at stake." "One who fights monsters then looks in the mirror, Might see a reflection that makes them shiver." "I'm... aware of the saying, my dear." He rubbed his temple. He had a headache. He looked at the edge of a clearing. A timberwolf was there, growling. Just growling, never stepping forward, Zecora's wards prevented it, especially for something so unnatural. One who fights monsters... that had been Luna once upon a time. Luna, whose defeat of Discord and Sombra had given her pride. Luna, whose battle with her sister created this horrible place. He felt like his head would split in two. "I say, do you have any more of that headache cure?" Dyne was shocked. After months of having his request put off by Celestia for different emergencies (the reemergence of the Crystal Empire, a mad pony who had somehow found a dangerous artifact thought to be destroyed, false leads on the Changeling Queen) and a request for their meeting to be away from Dragon Territory, and alone, he was thinking Celestia better have a good explanation for this dragon whelp. And did she ever. "Light... Light help us," he said, rubbing his head. "Do you know what this means? This is even worse than my idiot son... Light..." "That's why I kept things quiet, even from you," she said. "I trust you, Dyne, but you were better off not knowing. You had deniability then. Even after all this time..." "You think I don't know that?" He never raised his voice. He was too dazed. "This could be a disaster." Celestia took a deep breath. "Dragons live a long time. There are plenty of them still alive that would remember, even if it was before my sister's corruption." "What are you going to do when he grows up?" "The plan's been to pass him off as just another dragon I've allowed to settle in pony territory." "And what if he stays with your student's offspring?" Dyne mumbled. "He'll want to, if he really considers her his blood." "He'll need to grow out of it," Celestia said. "It won't be easy. I've been dreading the day Twilight passes on into Paradise for more than the loss of..." She trailed off. She had nearly said, "my child", and that would have been a lie. A sweet lie. "That egg should have been stillborn," Dyne said, more to himself than to Celestia. "My student's just that good," Celestia said, pride creeping into her voice. Dyne couldn't help but smile. He didn't meet with the pony princess often, but whenever he did, Twilight was brought up, and no matter how brief they stayed on the subject, the pride was always there. "Can you keep your son quiet?" Dyne groaned. "My son thinks with his muscles." His attitude seemed a mirror flip of Celestia's, he almost laughed. "I've had to threaten him with the most grueling work possible to keep him under my thumb, and even then I don't trust him to leave his chambers. Thrash and Mumble, on the other claw, I believe will stay quiet. I think they believe Garble's crazy." "Oh?" "I heard them council, on one of the few occasions I've allowed it since he returned. They continue telling him he needs to forget his petty vengeance, but he..." Dyne hung his head in shame. "I... I apologize again for his antagonism," he said in a tone one would not expect to come from a dragon, let alone a king. "You are not your son..." "His attitude is still a reflection of my parenting," he grumbled. He looked down at Celestia, who backed up a bit. It was a disorienting experience, he realized, for her to deal with a creature bigger than she was, given how she towered over her subjects. "Does... Spike know? Twilight?" "They are in the dark, and I intend to keep it that way," she said, her voice heavy. "Though maybe not for much longer.” Dyne lifted an eyebrow. “And why’s that?” Celestia took a breath. “Twilight is the one responsible for the Changelings’ defeat, the restoration of my sister, the defeat of Discord...” Dyne shivered. He was not quite old enough to have seen Discord’s reign, but he had his father’s stories of it, and that had chilled his blood well enough. “Twilight is ready. Ready for something she has earned a thousand times over.” “... The Trials.” Even outside of ponies, it was known the Trials were gifts of the Source. Alicorns were marked for worship, as far as many were concerned. “She’s ready to begin. I will be calling her up to the Crystal Empire soon to discuss it.” “You honor Spike then, putting him in such care.” “I appreciate that sentiment,” Celestia said, “but... I worry. Twilight’s a target, and a worry what will come next with her ascension.” Chrysalis stumbled back into her hideout. It was inconvenient, her associate said, coming back here every evening, especially when she could live much more comfortably. The first half of that statement had been correct, of course, but the second had been an outright fabrication. Even stuck in a cave with no running water was better than the horrible confines she had been operating in the last few days. Shivering, she went over to her washtub, filled thanks to a studious changeling, and dipped in, ignoring the pain the hot water was causing. The burn was good, it burned away the filth. A brush and soap were worked until she nearly rubbed her coat off. She felt so filthy... but it would be worth it. Oh, how it would be worth it...