//------------------------------// // 10. Brad Attitudes // Story: The Mixed-Up Life of Brad // by D G D Davidson //------------------------------// The Mixed-Up Life of Brad by D. G. D. Davidson X. Brad Attitudes “Brad, wake up.” “Mmph. Another minute, Mommy.” “Brad, wake up.” Something soft and fuzzy pushed against his cheek. Then the soft thing split open to reveal a moist interior, and a set of hard teeth nipped him. “Yow!” He sat bolt upright, and laughter rippled through the chamber. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Sitting in Celestia’s throne for several hours, pressed up against the princess’s warm side and listening to the droning voices of Equestria’s various lawmakers, Brad had dozed off, and now that he was awake again, he realized he’d been drooling on the shoulder of the sovereign ruler of all she surveyed. With a scowl, he glanced up at Celestia’s face. Celestia, after biting him, had turned her attention back to the bespectacled noblemare who stood in the middle of the floor and read a lengthy speech about water rights in the eastern provinces. Celestia had a faint, amused grin on her face, and Brad knew it was at his expense. He shifted in the seat. The throne’s straight metal back was uncomfortable, so after he squirmed for a few minutes in search of a new position, he ended up leaning against Celestia again. “I thought this was supposed to be Twilight’s trial,” he whispered. Her grin faltered. “This is the Cosmic Council, Brad,” she whispered back. “It does not meet regularly, so when it does, there is inevitably much business to deal with. Be patient.” “I don’t know why, but I expected government in a fairy kingdom to be less boring.” Her grin returned. “Ah, I had forgotten what it was like to have a squirming, fidgety child beside me during the Council. Thank you, Brad. You bring back fond memories—and give me an entertaining distraction. The duchess of Faroe can be quite dull, can’t she?” “You’re welcome. When’s dinner?” “If you’re bored, you can brush my hair.” “In front of everyone?” “Why not?” He crossed his arms and tried to follow the arguments of the droning duchess. “Sorry, but I’m a one-pony kind of man. I only brush Twilight.” “Admirable. I think.” At last, the duchess stopped speaking, and Brad assumed she was finished. A few polite claps came from the gallery. “You make a strong case,” Celestia called. “Does the marchioness of Percheron have a counterargument?” Another mare stood up from amongst the gathered nobleponies. “Your Majesty, the dam is vital to the wellbeing of our province. We are dependent on both the reservoir and the power.” Celestia turned to Clockwork and Parsnip, the Chronomaster and Gelding who sat at a table near King Leo’s water tank. “Have the observers any comment?” Clockwork cleared his throat and said, “A compromise may be in order, Your Highness. If the dam’s outflow can be increased without harm to Percheron, perhaps enough water for Faroe’s irrigation can be provided. I could have my Timekeepers in the region begin a study.” “Do so,” Celestia answered. “I expect the results in a month, and I will decide the matter then myself.” She paused. “Unless there is any objection from the Council.” Nopony made a sound, and the two nobleponies, after scowling at each other, resumed their seats. Mayor Mare rapped a gavel on her podium and read off the names of yet more ponies with more grievances to bring. Brad squirmed again. Even though this was supposed to be a meeting of all of Equestria’s rulers, he was increasingly getting the impression that it was Celestia’s one-mare show. She leaned her head down to him and whispered in his ear, “You are witnessing a fossil of Equestrian government, Brad. The rural nobility has been losing importance for a few hundred years now. The new centers of power are the cities—Fillydelphia, Manehatten, and Las Pegasus—where the money is.” He swallowed. He’d talked back to princesses a few times already without consequence, so he replied, “And when the nobles lose power, it goes to you?” “Partly. The ponies have grown accustomed to letting princesses make most major decisions, which is why you hear no objection when I offer to judge cases myself. But part of the nobles’ power has gone to the entrepreneurs and merchant barons, as well as to the elected governments of the towns and cities where they reside.” She inclined her head to the table where Clockwork and Parsnip sat. “And in spite of how they look, those two are dangerous. They want power, too. But you’ve not yet seen Equestria’s real power, for it does not send representatives here.” “What? What is it?” “Just a moment. I need to listen to this.” Brad tried listening too, but only heard a boring speech about land rights in the western provinces. He tuned it out and began to wonder if he should have gone ahead and brushed Celestia’s mane, just to have something to do. But then he heard a loud bang, almost like a gunshot, from the back of the chamber, and a voice cried, “Halt there! Don’t move or I’ll—aiee!” The voice cut off with a scream. A unicorn guard, clad in golden armor, flew high into the air. One of the nobles in the back jumped from her seat and caught him in a levitation spell, which sent a piercing shriek into Brad’s ears. He winced. After that, all was noise and confusion as desks and ponies were flung from the floor. There were roars, snarls, whinnies, and the sound of breaking wood. Ponies screamed and neighed. The nobles jumped from their seats and clambered over each other to get out of the way as six enormous brown monsters galloped through the midst of them, upending desks or smashing chairs as they headed for the dais. The monsters tossed aside anypony unlucky enough to be in their way. Celestia’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, Brad, but I have to do this.” With her mane and tail whipping as if in a high wind, she stood from her throne, and her horn glowed white like a bright beacon. In the next moment, Brad tumbled to the floor and writhed as a sharp pang split his head open. When he came back to his senses, a pair of pony’s forelimbs cradled him. He whispered, “Twilight?” But then he looked up into the concerned face of Princess Luna, and he gasped. She let go of him, and he sat up. Celestia had encased the entire chamber in a levitation spell: everything glowed with a golden aura, and all the ponies, desks, chairs, and papers which had flown into the air now settled gradually as if they were falling feathers. Standing before the dais, also surrounded by the golden glow, were five huge buffaloes, identical to those Brad had once seen in Yellowstone Park, except the largest wore a headdress full of feathers. Beside the five large buffaloes was a smaller one with a coat of light beige, and beside her was a bay earth stallion with a sandy mane. He also wore a headdress, though it held only a few feathers. Several guardsponies lay scattered across the floor, but one, a stallion with an orange coat and a blue crest, still kept his hooves and now pointed a spear at the largest buffalo’s face. Once everything in the room had settled, Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, and the glow of her horn faded, as did the room’s golden aura. “Chief Thunderhooves,” she said, “what is the meaning of this?” With a snort, the big buffalo tossed a scroll onto the floor. In a deep, rumbling voice, he called, “Is this the famed equity and justice of the Great White Pony?” “Explain,” Celestia replied. “You promised us our sovereignty, but these settler ponies continue to build their towns on our ancestral lands!” He stomped the dropped scroll, twisted his hoof, and tore the parchment in half. Celestia took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and said, “This is not an internal matter. I will deal with this myself, without the Council—” “No!” Thunderhooves roared. “You will not relegate us to a back room, Your Majesty! Everypony will hear our plight!” “You are a sovereign nation, not an Equestrian province—” “In that case, these settlements are an act of war. Your ‘Cosmic Council’ will hear us, or we will go on the warpath instead.” Thunderhooves swatted the spear from the guardpony’s hooves, sending it clattering to the floor. “And get that out of my face!” Celestia paused for a moment, and then she turned around. “The request is irregular. Sister?” Princess Luna, still sitting by Brad’s side, said, “No objection, sister.” “No objection,” said Cadance. Twilight sat up straighter as if startled. “What? Oh! No objection.” King Leo lifted his face above the water of his tank and guffawed. “These unexpected guests are most entertaining, and they have done much to enliven a dull meeting! No objection!” With a harrumph, Clockwork stood from his seat. “Your Majesty, this is the Cosmic Council, the center of civilization for all the world. We cannot allow sav—” “Quiet,” said Celestia. She turned to the pony standing by the buffaloes’ side. “Braeburn, are you here to represent the settlers?” He inclined his head toward the smallest of the buffalo. “No, ma’am. I’m here with my wife.” “Very well. Flash Sentry?” The orange guardspony spun around, clicked his bell boots together, and dipped his head. “Your Majesty.” Brad felt a chill run down his spine, and he slowly rose to his feet. The guard’s voice sounded exactly like his own. The princesses must have noticed as well, for Celestia glanced back at Brad, and Luna rubbed a hoof against her chin and frowned. Twilight bit her lip and sank lower in her throne. With a slight shrug, Celestia said, “Flash, fly to Appleloosa and tell Sheriff Silverstar we request his presence, and the presence of any representatives he wishes to bring—” “What is this?” Thunderhooves roared. “Are you delaying—?” “Do you wish the Council to reach a decision without hearing both sides?” Celestia snapped. She raised her voice and called, “Raven!” A clatter came from somewhere behind the high, platinum throne, after which a white unicorn mare in heavy horn-rimmed glasses galloped out with several roles of parchment clutched in one forelimb. She slid to a stop by Celestia’s side, collapsed to the floor, and dropped her parchments, which tumbled down the steps, unrolling as they went. After regaining her hooves, Raven adjusted her glasses and, grinning sheepishly, said, “Um, yes, Your Majesty?” “Go with the buffaloes and draw up a formal petition for them. They are to have the ambassadorial suite during their stay, and tell the Geldings to give them whatever they request.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” Parsnip, the withered green pony, stood from his seat beside Clockwork. “If you wish, Princess, I can see to their needs personally.” Celestia smiled. “That will not be necessary, Parsnip. I wouldn’t want you to miss the Council.” Then she turned to the ponies gathered around Twilight’s throne, who had watched these proceedings with their eyes wide. “Applejack,” said Celestia, “if you like, you may go with your cousin.” “I, uh, reckon maybe I better,” replied the orange pony who resembled Amelia Jems. She took to her hooves and walked down the steps. Rainbow Dash flapped into the air. “I’m goin’, too.” She landed between Braeburn and the smallest buffalo and said, “Hey, Little Strongheart. Long time, no see.” She raised a hoof, and Little Strongheart met it with her own. Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Braeburn, and the buffaloes, led by Raven, filed quietly out of the chamber. Half the room was in shambles. The buffaloes had cut a swath of destruction straight up the one side of the chamber, leaving behind a path strewn with shattered wood. Many of the nobleponies, their elegant clothes ragged and dirty, were picking themselves up from the floor. Several guards, some of them with crumpled armor, were doing the same. Littering the front of the dais were several unraveled, crisscrossing scrolls, making the steps resemble a house that had been attacked with toilet paper on Halloween. With his pectoral fins, King Leo slapped the water in his tank and released a deep belly laugh. “These buffalo leave an impression! I like them! Celestia, give them everything they want!” Celestia sighed. “I think, my little ponies, it may be best to call a recess until tomorrow. We will resume immediately after I have raised the sun. I wish you all a good night.” Now Leo laughed even more loudly, and he lifted a full half of his body from the tank. “Ah! But our time together is not over, my friends, my landlubbers! Tonight, and every night of the Cosmic Council, each and every last one of you is invited to my feast! You shall all know the bounty of the Sparkling Sea! Tonight, by my decree, the cider shall flow like water!” He lifted his fins as if in benediction, and his mermares raised their snouts and hummed. The motley crowd in the high gallery responded with stomps, whistles, and catcalls. The nobleponies didn’t bother to file out with the same pomp and solemnity with which they had filed in. While everyone was leaving, Brad ducked through a side door, got lost in a maze of hallways, and eventually found himself taking fresh air on a high balcony overlooking the city. The sun, heavy and red, hung near the horizon, and the roofs of Canterlot blazed like fire. A cool breeze whipped through the many pennants and caressed Brad’s face. He peered off into the distant valley, which was now hazy in the fading light, and again he noticed the wide brown blot of the tent city. Stainless Steel, now bearing a broad dent in the side of his peytral, stomped onto the balcony and huffed. “There you are! You want me to miss King Leo’s party, boy? I hear those pretty mermares won’t let a stallion’s sarsaparilla glass get empty! Let’s go!” Brad chuckled, leaned back against the golden balustrade, and gestured to the dent in Stainless Steel’s armor. “I see you got up close and personal with a buffalo.” Stainless snorted. “Aye, gonna have to take this into the armorer, I will. Now, are you ready? I’m a hungry stallion, and good eats like this don’t show up every day.” Brad languidly pointed toward the distant tents. “I tried to ask you before. What’s that?” Stainless looked where he pointed, shuddered, and shook his head. “That? Why do you want to know about that? That’s a mistake, it is. My mistake. And Celestia’s. And a lot of ponies’.” “What kind of mistake?” He stomped a hoof, and his bell boot rang against the marble floor. “Why do you ask me? Ask a princess, if you really want to know.” He sharply shook his head. “I can’t talk about it, as I said already.” Brad shrugged, straightened, and said, “Lead the way. I could use some food myself.” To get to the feast, Brad and Stainless Steel had to walk back through the cavernous Council chamber, where custodians were now dutifully clearing away the wreckage. After a long march up the center aisle, they made their way into a receiving hall, plush like a Victorian parlor, where a heavy crystal chandelier hung overhead. At the corners of the sculpted ceiling were high-relief images of chubby pegasus colts with widespread wings, and frescoes on the walls depicted pastoral scenes of ponies strolling through lush landscapes. The largest frescoe showed a castle with spires much like Canterlot’s, except they were bright pink. Standing in the center of this room was a great marble statue of a strange, bipedal figure, almost like a cross between a pony and an ape. It had a sloping forehead, a horse-like muzzle, and thick, hunched shoulders. On its forelimbs were talons like those of a bird of prey, and with one of these ghastly appendages it pointed to an enormous, heart-shaped ruby embedded in its chest. At this monster’s hooves, for its back legs were hoofed, stood two high tablets engraved with Roman numerals. Brad paused and gazed up at the statue, which must have been at least ten feet tall. “Who’s this?” he asked. Stainless grunted. “Magog. The One True Judge.” “The one the Geldings think will come back?” “Aye.” He shook his head. “If that’s really what she’s like, she can stay gone, far as I’m concerned.” “It’s a she?” “’Course. They may have been primitive in the Valley of Dreams, but they knew better than to let a male run the place. Are you ready? I’m starving, and I want a slab of that kelp cake I hear Leo brought.” “Kelp cake? Suddenly I’m not hungry anymore.” “Is it my fault you’re a picky eater? Let’s go, boy!” Brad stepped around the statue to head for the outer door, but he stopped when a shock of cold and a feeling of drowsiness overcame him. He staggered back. Princess Luna, with her waving mane full of stars, stood near the door. She peered at Brad and frowned. “I am sorry. Am I too close?” “It’s all right,” Brad said. He put a hand on the statue’s base to steady himself. “You just startled me, is all.” She blinked her bright eyes and smiled. “Excellent. Young Brad, I require you to sleep with me tonight.” Brad took a moment to process that. “Excuse me?” Luna huffed. “Surely you are aware of what you are?” “Yes. I’m taken.” She blinked again, incomprehension plain on her face. “I’m afraid I do not understand. You have all the marks of a potential Adept. I intend to train you.” “Adept at what?” With a scowl, she whinnied and pawed the ground. “Has nopony told you? Cadance? Celestia? Twilight Sparkle? Have they not mentioned your obvious sensitivity to magic—?” “They said I was allergic or something.” Luna lowered her head to the ground and let her misty hair fall across her face. “Has everypony forgotten the ancient lores?” She snapped her head up again and walked toward him. Her eyes glowed like a full moon, and he fell back against the statue as she neared him. His knees grew weak, but her gaze fixed him, and he could neither drop to the ground nor look away. “You are not allergic,” she said. “You are receptive. You have the potential to be a great Dreaming Adept, and I can train you!” She reached him at last and placed a hoof against his forehead. The cold touch of her silver boot stunned him. “Tonight,” she hissed, “you will sleep under my hoof, and I will bring you through the Gate of Horn to the Deeper Slumber, where you will behold the greatest secrets shrouded by time.” She grinned, and Brad could see that, where a normal pony simply had a gap in her teeth behind her incisors, Luna had a pronounced set of sharp canines. She took her hoof from his head, and he slid hard to the floor. She turned to Stainless Steel and said, “You there, see that he eats only lightly at the feast, and that he takes no intoxicants. Bring him to my chariot at ten o’clock.” Stainless bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness. Of course.” With that, Luna spun around and marched away.