2101 AC, Second Winter, 29, 23:11:12
"And you're completely sure he wouldn't turn on us?"
"He owes his life to me for something a long, long time ago, so yes, I believe he wouldn't."
Trust Twilight Sparkle to extend her concerns to me when there is no need for any. She can be rather of a paranoid unicorn when it comes to trusting strangers, but I couldn't blame her for her reluctance. Not when the first thing you saw the moment you step out of the TARDIS was some sort of amorphous, blob-like creature swallowing ponies right in front of your eyes. Hellish trauma for her, a jolly great adventure for me!
"Just to let you know, this friend of mine has a name," I added, just to ease the trip. "Would prefer you to call him Solomon. Just Solomon, no poshy last name included."
"Okay..." Twilight muttered. "So it's not a made-up name then? Not like you and your... Doctor thing?"
"Well, that's his name. Solomon Phothane Belgonquin the Fifth," I rephrased. Poshy last name included. "Supreme Commander of the Federal States of Pransyberia, which extends across the mountains of the Frozen North with one end at the Siren Bay and the other at the city of Vaultograd. We're dab smack right in the capital of Stalliongrad, which is a beautiful, charming little place, if you ignore all those... dull, bland, straight-faced soldiers marching around like they run the continent. Now you wouldn't wanna live in a place like that! Not when you have Canterlot in tow, eh?"
That's right, my dear friends. We're currently standing in the supreme royal haven of the city (I swear Solomon wanted me to say that) of Stalliongrad. Look around: all those tall buildings, reaching for the sky with their spires and many of its brick walls a flashy red. Ponies were all around, glancing about like tourists for the most mundane things to do or chatting with a few of the soldiers, if they're lucky. In many ways, it was similar to Canterlot; all you have to do is pop a normal, wise yet utterly stubborn unicorn in the place of an abnormal, wise yet utterly stubborn alicorn for the throne. Monarchs certainly share some similarities, don't they?
"So this Solomon pony," Twilight began another of her curious questions. "How's he like? You know, when you first met him?"
"Brilliant with first impressions. Horrible with maintaining them."
Yep, you'd meet all kinds of ponies in adventures. Even the eccentric ones, however much annoying they are. Solomon was one of those rare gems that actually had the compassion to spare a thought for others, unlike many of the ministers in his reins. Luckily for his country, his mind was practically nailed onto ruling the country and staying alive on the throne as well as kicking the flanks of those that challenge him into the bucket. Harsh.
"He was merely twenty-one years old when I saved him from a sinking ship. They called it the Bellamorian Tragedy. Aliens wrecked the engines and stuff like that," I hastily explained. "Was a little sailor and a prince as well. Huh! Strange combination, a prince and a sailor. Anyways, the ship was being attacked and he asked me-- no, begged me to save his life. Ah, good times..."
"Uh-huh. And how long was that ago? Five months? A year?"
"Fifty-eight years."
"Wow," Twilight mumbled that, blinking. "So he's--"
"Sixty-nine. On the throne for forty-seven years already, after his father's passing, bless his soul." Hoof in hoof, the both of us marched across the snow-covered town as I continued: "He wasn't actually ready for ruling then, but after one rough month, everything went smooth sailing. The faith of Stalliongrad is on him ever since, so do pay your respects. Couple of things to look out about him is family background, his penchant for lopping off limbs, cigars and his colorful language. Oof, I can tell you his vocabulary is unnecessarily crude."
"Can't blame that," the mare remarked with a cock of her head. "Old sailor habits die hard."
I wore a grin at that; I really do love the way Twilight Sparkle thinks! It's amazing! Okay, that last bit was insulting, but amazing! Pint of comedy right there! If my old fellow Solomon were here, she would've been arrested and be sentenced to death or something, I don't know. What would a pony not do with that much power in his head? Deary me, Stalliongrad and its abundant harsh laws.
The trip to Solomon's palace took about four minutes and twenty-eight seconds. Honestly, I would've stopped to savor the local delicacies or see the wondrous Stalliongrad-ish sights, but Twilight has this profound eagerness of meeting the aristocrats like she did so back in Canterlot. That's what you get when your companion's a mare whose interests lie in diplomatic relations and the dullest parts of Equestrian past and future. You could see anything when you're one thousand and ninety-six years away from your designated timeline, but no! Pop your hooves to see a jolly vulgar king on his weenie of a throne!
"Doctor!!"
That booming voice bellowing my name, rich and deep! Ah, there's Solomon alright, all grown up since we've last met! That pudgy, graying-olive maned pony with coat of the brightest gamboge all covered up snugly in a red cape sitting high and mighty on his wooden throne was the highly respected Supreme Commander of the Federal States of Pransyberia and, aside from Princess Celestia (immortality, I believe, would explain that), co-ruler of the Northern States, Solomon Phothane Belgonquin the Fifth. He let out a richly deep chuckle that echoed through his marble hallways as Twilight and I strode along the red carpet, trying to wear the widest of smiles in front of this enigmatic stallion.
"It's been so long! Oh, so long, long, long, long!!" he chortled. "And by the alicorns, you haven't aged a bit! Not even a wrinkle, just like you said!"
"Great to see you again, mate," I answered cheerfully. "Got your land hooves back, I believe?"
"Oh, you don't know the half of it! Least that bucking scurvy's gone!!"
Another loud, radiant blare of a laugh. Whoo, I say! Surprised he never broke any of his palace windows yet! Well apart from them, Twilight was completely right; old sailor habits do die hard, especially his colorful language. Still the same Solomon I met on the Bellamorian. You should see how Twilight scrunched her face up when he said that! One of a kind sight!
"Although I miss the sea. Last voyage I went on had been six years ago!" he proclaimed. "But enough of my laments! My interest is more keen on the mare you've brought along with you! Who is this fine little lass that dallies in my presence, Doctor?"
"Twilight Sparkle, um..." my companion began. "S-Sir... Phothane, is it? Or is it Belgonquin? I'm sorry if I didn't get your name right..."
"Oh, a mare of modest respect too!" Solomon joyfully exclaimed, chuckling. "Call me the latter, please. I'll say, The Doctor certainly has a great taste of mares."
"Oi! Be good, Sully!" I snapped, slightly infuriated. "Don't treat her like she's an object. She's my companion, you know? Would it be fair if I called your dear wife -- bless her soul -- something along the lines of those antiques they sold at the auction? None of us would like that, would we?"
"Ah, of course! My manners always have a way of leaving me unattended!"
Honestly, I'm quite surprised Solomon hadn't sent us to the dungeon for that. Knowing Stalliongrad's harsh laws, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I had my head chopped off by his own bare hooves. Perhaps my acquaintance with him lifted any possibility of that off his head?
"There is one thing I wonder, of course," he continued, leaning forward. "What brings you here, Doctor? I don't recall you as a frequent visitor of our palace. Or any other palace, for all that matters. Stopping by for a cup of tea?"
"Oh, I'm just here to show Twilight around," I explained. "She has an interest in... er... Stalliongrad's rich history. Yes! Rich! So I thought a little tour around this fine palace of yours would seal the deal, eh? What do you say? Care to be our guide?"
"Asking the commander to show every nook and cranny of his own palace, eh? Ho, you sure know how to keep my hooves movin' about, I can give you that."
Twilight was clearly awestruck at how easily Solomon is swaying to my demands. Just look at her! Oh, what am I saying, of course you fellows can't! Missing out on a lot of things, you bunch! Back to the point, my old friend isn't one prone to be a follower; no, there's something he's hiding from us. I'm completely, radically sure of it. Perhaps that's why the TARDIS brought us here: to stop an old friend from committing some atrocity that would probably propel all of ponykind into the depths of Armageddon.
How bloody convenient.
"So..." Twilight spoke up amid our journey. "Where are we going?"
"The Red Gallery," was the commander's answer. "The history of my ancestors and their ancestors as well were all kept there like archives. Judging from how you were looking at my palace, I believe you, miss, would be more interested in Stalliongrad's fine culture, if I'm not mistaken?"
"How did you--"
"I know how ponies think; a curse I have lived with since youth."
Solomon let out a soft sigh, quietly lamenting his so-called 'curse'. You couldn't imagine how many times he told me about it back on the Bellamorian. The entire ship was sinking into the ocean and surprise, surprise! He was worried about how the sailors were planning mutiny and abandon us. It took a little convincing on our end, but we managed to escape unscathed, if you leave out the immense trauma of near-death experiences, of course.
"I understand everything and anything ponies want," he continued. "Their hopes, their dreams, their desires... everything. That's why I know what the ponies of Stalliongrad, if not all of Pransyberia, needed for them to be content. Of course, there's their darkest secrets, their blackest lies, all the nightmares in the world that could make them shudder... and I can see them."
"Can't anypony help you?" she asked. "Like the Doctor, for instance! He can help!"
Before any of you ask, yes, when it comes to meeting others (with the exception of a certain clumsy colt) I prefer my companions to call me the Doctor instead of Turner. Just to confirm, no, it's not for titular dignity and pride. If it were, it would be a safety precaution for nothing; the last thing I need any threat I meet to do is to trace us to our original timeline using my name, like that one time when I was running away from a few Silurians, but that's another story.
"I had asked for his assistance once," Solomon said begrudgingly, staring at me. "He turned me away like I was nothing."
"You had an affliction I couldn't cure, Solomon."
"What kind of a bucking doctor are you?" he snapped. "You never even examined me! Never saw what was wrong and already you assumed it was like some sort of cancer or something! If this disease could be cured--"
"There is no cure!" I cut in rather sharply. I had to get the message across somehow. Back then on the ship, I already told him he wouldn't have found anypony to help him rid of his disease. He had fifty-eight years to think carefully and thoroughly about the problem plaguing him and in the end? Still stubborn as ever. "There will never be a cure, never any sort of medication, never a pony in the world even that could aid you with that problem. You'll have to live with it, just like you did for the past sixty-nine years!"
Silence. Oh, the tension.
"Maybe you don't need the Doctor," Twilight meekly spoke. "Maybe... all you need is somepony to take care of you. Like your wife, for instance. She can help you out somehow, can she?"
Big, big mistake. Immensely huge one, if I do say so myself. Immediately, Solomon turned towards the unicorn, surprising her with the glare he steeled. Had I not been there, I'm sure Twilight Sparkle would've literally lost her head already. Yes, the year is 2101 of the Celestial Reign and ponies here are still cutting off each other's heads. Some things just never change, do they? Quickly, I leaned towards her, whispering quietly from the edges of my mouth:
"Bless her soul."
"What?"
"Bless her soul," I repeated. "You're supposed to say 'bless her soul'."
"W-Why?" Twilight nervously stammered, shivering from Solomon's fixed glare. "Is it some sort of a greeting for the royal family or--"
Immediately, I dragged her aside, giving the commander a doltish grin. This is what one must anticipate when bringing along a total stranger to a new place, even though you're still on the same planet.
"It's a Pransyberian custom," I hastily explained. "You're supposed to say 'bless a pony's soul' if... well... that pony had passed on..."
Twilight's eyes widened once I said that, turning back to Solomon. She opened her mouth, I assume to apologize, though nothing came out. Really! I mean, look at her, the most extraordinary unicorn you might ever know was silenced from a bout of shock!
"I'm sorry!" she shrieked out suddenly, making both of us jump. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so-- oh, I didn't know!! I thought it was--!! Please, you can't! I had no idea--"
"Calm down, Twilight!" I tried to cut into her hysteria, to no avail. She looked a tad cute though, with her cheeks scrunched and puffed a seething red, her head sweating and all. Yes, she's desperately begging to be spared from Solomon's wrath and I'm just watching from the sidelines, complimenting on how adorable she looks when she might probably die. Turner, you nuthead. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.
"Solomon wouldn't put his hoof onto you," I assured, finally stopping her. "Isn't that so, my friend?"
"Y-Yes. Of course." With a cough, Solomon soon resumed leading us forward, his grumbles a little too loud to be kept hidden. Even though he was the benevolent lord that many knew him as, one could never argue that his inherited lust for blood would always linger there, patiently watching his prey as it steps closer and closer into his trap. Believe me, I had seen it brewing in his eyes like a hurricane all those years ago, waiting for the right time to pounce. Scary thought to behold, I say. "This way," he said, guiding us around the corner.
"So your wife-- bl-bless her soul," Twilight began. "How's she like?"
"Camomile? Ah, that mare..."
A somewhat whimsical yet deep sigh left his mouth; it seems even the bloodthirsty Solomon Phothane Belgonquin the Fifth would fall into the desire of a mate. No offense, but I wonder what kind of mare would put up with all those decapitations and mutilations and... well, you lot know what I mean.
"My dear Camomile was different from the rest," Solomon muttered with a hint of nostalgia seen in most his age. "I remember clearly the first time we met. It was four years after the Bellamorian, when my father -- bless his soul -- and I were visiting one of Vaultograd's pubs. She was the cabaret of that night and her singing... oh, I admired her singing. Took myself backstage just to know her better. Never gave her a chance to speak and when she could, you know what was the first thing she said to me?"
Twilight and I shook our heads.
"You, she shouted. The bloody prince of Stalliongrad?" Solomon retorted with a chuckle. "Oh, if I could, I would chop her head off there and then. Thank Celestia I didn't do so. We eventually got together throughout the rest of the trip and in the end, she wanted to come back with me. Said she wanted to see the glorious family altogether, but she can't fool me. It took a few years, but we got married sooner or later."
"She must be a sweet mare for you to give her a chance," Twilight remarked.
"The sweetest ever."
The three of us soon reached a pair of tall stone doors, which Solomon himself parted with two hooves. I have to say, his old age really conceals the unbelievable strength he still possessed. An exceptional stallion, the king of Pransyberia, to the point of me almost considering him to be our companion. Almost.
"There she is," he said softly, turning our attention to a painting on the wall. Within its skillfully-decorated golden frame was a varnished, younger Solomon (the one I had seen on the Bellamorian) standing on his hind hooves with a lovely looking top hat perched on his head. His front hooves were resting onto the head of a luxurious, gilded chair, where a pale turquoise mare seated, eyes and mane a bright, sparkling yellow, her hooves holding onto a matching light-green parasol. Below the painting was a golden plaque, carved with the words:
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.
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~ ⊗ Λ ⊗ ~
The Blood Prince of Pransyberia
and
The Sovereign Lady of Peace
~ ⊗ V ⊗ ~painted 2062 AC
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. "Wow..."
"Indeed," I muttered, amazed myself. Ponykind is certainly unbelievable with their contributions to their arts, seeing all their sculptures and their canvases and such. All the blood, sweat and tears these artists put in... to be frank, if we were all that diligent in our work, we would evolve eight times faster. "Don't mean to pry, but what happened to her?"
"She perished. Along with many others."
Both of us, Twilight especially, just stared at him, prompting him to explain: "Nine years ago, there was a war. Raiders from the north came to Stalliongrad and took over half the city. Her Highness was fighting with us when everything was falling around. Camomile, she... she wanted to help as well. Said protecting the ponies of the city was her duty. Next thing I knew, those bucking whinnywailers blew up the west wing. One of my men found her underneath the rubble, smiling... she passed on with a smile. I never knew what she was smiling about, but that smile... I would never forget it."
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright, Doctor," Solomon replied with a weak grin. "That was all a long time ago. I have moved on. The crimes of the war have been dealt swiftly with justice and peace has been restored. At least, until we found out about a new darkness that has arrived the city."
"I've heard you calling me," I answered, rewarded by Twilight with a stare. "It must've been pretty urgent; you wouldn't be the type to call me often."
"Wait, so it wasn't a coincidence? You really made us come here?"
"My men had found something," Solomon said, ignoring my companion, much to her annoyance. "At first sight, it seemed rather normal, but once my scientists ran a complete scan of it, I knew then that we needed your expertise immediately."
"And I tracked your signal."
Reaching into the abyssal depths of my bow tie, I pulled out my trusty sonic screwdriver, giving it a few tweaks and turns. Twilight just watched on, her curiosity piquing her to look closer at my little contraption, for reasons unknown. She probably didn't buy the fact that it used sound (thus the name 'sonic') to do everything it does. 'There's no such thing as magic through sound', she said once I told her. Obviously, she never heard a Zebrican chant before. You ever heard them? All those hallucinations it can induce... what was the word you lot use? Drippy? Strippy? Oh, I don't know!
"What is it?" I asked. "This... thing you found?"
"Commonplace Pransyberian toy. This way."
Solomon beckoned us towards the left, the steel doors at the end parting with a hiss of steam. Inside was a large rotunda, all plated in the finest lead walls with ponies in white suits and surgical masks scurrying around, an occasional one or two carrying clipboards. Whatever their individual intents were, they all seemed to be focused onto something behind a glass wall, though I'm too far to make out what it was.
Twilight Sparkle... well, you know Twilight Sparkle. Bouncing around happily only when she's around magic this and magic that. Science is a form of magic as well, just to let you fellows know. It's just strange enough to be categorized in a different category. In a world of skeptical, aged unicorn scholars, it wouldn't be much of a surprise.
"There it is," the lord said, leading us through the huddled scientists. Now this is the part where I become flabbergasted or... or basically dancing on the tip of my hooves or just sit there and watch everything transpire. It's the moment where my interest skyrockets to the ends of the universe and my motive of travelling again is refueled. It is where my hopes are placed at the tippiest point of the mountain, where my emotions are gambled like a born winner in the casinos of Las Pegasus.
So you lot could imagine how bloody disappointed I was when I found out what it was.
"That's it?"
"Yes, Doctor," Solomon excitedly said.
"That's the one."
Right there, standing on a steel, cylindrical pedestal, was a doll. A Maretryoshka doll, to be exact. You know, those... uh... what do you call it... nesting dolls? Stacking dolls? Cannibalistic dolls that stuff their young back into their stomachs? Euch, that was a bad one.
"So you called me from the Spires of Amarron," I began, breathing in deeply. Beautiful spires, just to add. Looks like vanilla ice cream from afar. "For this?!"
"It might look conventional and boring at first, Doctor. In fact, I myself really wanted to behead one of my subjects when he pestered me during my work to show me what it was."
One of Solomon's scientists stumbled towards us, fumbling his glasses before handing over to me a clipboard. Now, normally I would ignore every inch of scribbles written on it, but the moment I gave it a glance... something was wrong. No... something was very, very, very, terribly, extremely, unbelievably wrong.
"I-Impossible..."
"You don't get to hear that from the Doctor everyday."
"Not now, Twilight. This is serious," I hissed, flipping through the last few pages. "Solomon, these readings... you're certain they're from that doll? That lifeless, dull doll?"
"Correct."
"But these... these are off the charts!"
Off the charts... usually, ponies use it metaphorically, but in this case, the readings were literally off the charts; the line sloped upwards off the paper, exceeding the values of even those readings from Equestria's largest nuclear repository. Yes, at this day and age, there are legal nuclear repositories in Equestria. Anyways, if that were true, then what Stalliongrad has now is the largest energy source in the world. This alone would power the nation for, what, five hundred years? Ten? Blimey, the possibilities are endless!
"Solomon," I called my friend. "This is a very serious matter, but Pransyberia now has what could possibly the largest, most powerful source of energy that Equestria has ever seen since Celestia was on the throne. Many rulers like you would've sought for it for many reasons, good and bad, so I ask of you, Solomon: what do you intend to do with it?"
"I... I don't know..."
Alright. Okay. I thought he was about to harness it for some weapon of mass destruction or something. I mean, no offense, but he still chops heads for a living. One bomb would just make things a whole lot easier, not that I'd recommend it. No, this nesting doll needs to be kept hidden away from those who want it. This nesting doll must be protected, no matter the cost.
"I'll help you take care of it, Solomon," I suggested. "We don't want anypony invading Stalliongrad for this. Think of the city's security here."
"I would think about that," my old friend replied heftily. "But first, the reason you're here: I need to know what's giving off these readings, Doctor. Looking at odd things is no doubt your forte, especially when it includes something... alien."
With a nod, I stepped towards a glass door, Twilight following closely behind with a worried look on her face. It's pretty understandable for her to be worried, what with her knowing about the things I usually face in my travels. Sometimes, her life was on the line and I wouldn't be there to save her. It already happened once or twice and... alright, maybe five or six times, but still, she always got away with it. Although... honestly... I fear one day she wouldn't be so lucky, so to speak. Touch wood, Turner. Let glass be the new wood.
One hoof onto the glass door, I give it a gentle push, both of us stepping in with eyes glued to the Maretryoshka doll in the center, its unnerving smile almost hinting that it has some deep, dark secret to hide. I must say, whoever decorated this doll had some great elaborate taste in art.
"So all the energy's coming from this thing?" Twilight asked, to which I gave a nod. "But which part of it? It couldn't be from the doll itself, right?"
"Correct," I answered. "Therefore, there must be something inside the doll creating all the energy. Of course, if we consider the energy readings, opening it would be deemed as some sort of risk to the city of Stalliongrad and probably the whole of Equestria itself. Anything could be inside. Anything..."
"But what can give out so much energy and fit in the doll at the same time? I know a few enchantment spells that could transfer magic into ordinary household objects, but at this scale? Not a chance!"
"Also correct. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
The craziest, zaniest theory just sprouted in my head. Not a big deal, just crazy and zany and... timey-wimey and such. Now, many of you would be thinking of what's in the nesting doll. Sure, every average stallion and mare would think the same as well: that there's something in the nesting doll that's giving out all this energy. However, what if it isn't just any other ordinary thing?
"I have a hunch," I told my companion. "But I can't prove it unless we open that thing. You'll never know what might happen after that. The entirety of Equestria might be destroyed because of me opening this doll, so I ask you, Twilight Sparkle: can I have your permission to open it?"
"I suppose we could-- wait,WHAT?!"
Twilight Sparkle was, suffice to say, appalled at my words. Well, she must've expected to be responsible of something along my travels, right? Even if it involves a small thing like total destruction of the planet! It's only a minor errand for her to be the pony that said yes, right? Wouldn't you agree? Nobody? Oh, pish-posh, who cares anyway.
"Why are you asking me? Me, of all ponies!" she snapped, a little enraged.
"You represent the princess."
"Hey, you're the expert here!" my companion protested. "Why do I have to allow you to do it when you can do it yourself? Plus, since when did you care about Princess Celestia barging in between our travels anyway--"
"Look, Twilight Sparkle," I cut in rather impulsively. "If I open this doll, the world that you know as Equestria might probably meet its end and it will be my fault. I myself would not hesitate to just find out what's inside, but I need another pony's opinion on this, meaning I need yours. So I ask of you again, Twilight Sparkle: can I have your permission to open this doll?"
The silence was awkward, before she let out an exasperated sigh.
"Yes. But if we destroy Equestria, I would personally strangle you in the afterlife, got that?"
I grinned. "Deal."
Without a second to spare, I twisted the doll, the top half of it loosening immediately. The first turn made the breaths of everypony held tense and as I languidly rotated it, a bead of sweat dripping from my forehead, the more edgy each of us get. Slowly but surely, with each and every necessary turn, the doll gently let its base go before finally, the top popped off. I think everypony closed their eyes at that instant, waiting for that 'kaboom!' to just sort of happen. Imagine that! A 'kaboom!' What I wouldn't do to see a large one for once!
Fortunately enough, all of us are still intact, evident from the reassured sighs, still jittery from the nerves we've all built up. I flashed one of my confident grins at Twilight, who simply chuckled, chest still heaving. Slowly, I peeked into the doll's interior, this time excited to see the source of all this energy. To see if my theory's correct.
It was.
It's not a question of what's inside the doll anymore.
"What is it?" Twilight asked, slightly irritated as she trotted to my side. The moment her eyes stared into the doll's insides... oh, you can see her eyes basically burning and falling out of their sockets. Her jaw immediately dropped into a silent gasp, the sight within drawing her head closer and closer as she muttered: "But... b-but it can't be... it's... it's impossible!"
"You don't get to hear that from Twilight Sparkle everyday."
"But how, Turner?!" she frantically asked. "How is this even possible?!"
"What's even possible?"
Solomon stepped into the room, a little confused at our little fuss. Of course, you could say he and Twilight are thinking the same thing when he realized what was inside the doll. Oh, look at that old face! It looked just like the one when I told him there were aliens on the Bellmorian except, well, it's a lot more... wrinklier.
"It's... it's..."
"Yep," I answered nonchalantly, though still intrigued at the possibility of it happening. "There's only one possible reason that I could think of for this doll to emit such impossibly high readings. At this age, no small object could hold in even one-tenth of the energy found in the readings, so I wondered what if it wasn't the object that was enchanted with magic? What if it was the doll? That itself concludes the answer to this problem."
My theory was correct.
It's not a question of what's inside the doll anymore.
It's a question of where's inside the doll.
"This doll is bigger on the inside."
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