//------------------------------// // Chapter Fifty-seven // Story: Freedom Through Harmony // by Electricut //------------------------------// Chapter Fifty-seven Emberton Town Square Phil Phil and Trixie, now accompanied by the former Wonderbolt, Misty, trudged through the gates standing at the entrance to the port city of Emberton. The buildings weren’t terribly tall in this town- two stories was typically the tallest building’s limit. The port itself was clearly visible, the tall masts of various vessels bobbing gently on the waves in the distance. The air carried a distinct salty odor wafting in from the sea, and buzzed with chit-chat from the numerous stalls dotted around the port area. While it may not have been a terribly large city, it was a lively one, and despite the rapid approach of winter, the ports and market were still as active as ever. Trixie sniffed, still somewhat under-the-weather. Phil yawned mightily, still having some sleep to catch up on. Misty remained morosely silent, aware of her position as half-ally, half-prisoner. The past two nights had not been kind to anyone in the group, and they were all stiff, sore, and grumpy. “Well, we’re here. Obviously.” Misty stated. “So, I guess our next move would be to contact Lord Blake. If we’re going to make any progress in this town, we have to start with him.” “Right.” Trixie muttered. “And, if I recall, that would be your job.” “Yeah, yeah. I got it. It’s been a while since we last met, but I bet he’ll remember me. Just... I don’t know, just stay behind me or something. It’d be pointless to have you two rent a room at an inn, ‘cause he’ll probably give us a place to stay at the manse.” Misty looked around for a moment to get her bearings, the set off through the streets. Phil and Trixie followed silently. While they walked, Phil went over a mental checklist of what they had to do next. Once they met with Blake, they would need to convince him to not only give the support of House Leo and anyone else willing to fight in Emberton, but to have him contact his allies in Trottingham and convince them to do the same. They were asking a lot of the young leader, and Phil had no idea what to expect. Rarity’s description of Blake painted him to be a level headed, kind, but passionate person: still, her description could well have been biased. He had to prepare for anything. Soon the party of three cleared the busier part of town, and the houses became somewhat more eloquent looking- bigger, and better put-together. At the end of their line-of-sight, a large building spanning all the way across the street stood, surrounded by a tall, solid-looking iron fence. The mansion, same as all the other buildings in town, lacked much height. It appeared to possibly have a second floor, albeit a small one, but the low-set windows and concrete foundations let on that it had more space underground. “Not exactly a soaring palace.” Trixie commented dryly. Her wide-brimmed hat was pulled tightly over her head, shading her eyes from the bright, but not particularly warming sun. She gripped her staff in her right hand, using it as a walking stick, with her left hand shoved in her pocket. “Doesn’t look like it from the outside.” Misty agreed. “It’s more of a typical lordly mansion on the inside, though. I’ve only been in there once, when the Wonderbolts did a show in town, but it was pretty nice.” Throughout the whole arbitrary conversation, Phil remained silent, calculating. The group came upon the doorway set into the gate, and were met by a single soldier in lightweight leather armor, emblazoned in several places with the lion signet of House Leo. He made no hostile move towards them, and didn’t even appear to be heavily armed. Clearly this town, and its soldiers, weren’t expecting any trouble anytime soon. The guard in question was leaning casually against the inside of the fence, half asleep. When Trixie walked up to the slightly rusted iron grate, jangling the bars slightly, the guard awoke with a start, then turned to address the group. Even after having been woken up, he yawned and scratched his head tiredly, obviously not threatened or alarmed by the newcomers. “Yeah?” He asked. “You bunch need something?” “We’re from out of town.” Misty explained professionally. She spoke in a kind, but to the point, manner: “But we have somewhat pressing business to attend to. We need to arrange a meeting with Lord Blake as soon as possible. Can you get him out here, or bring us in?” “Uh...” The guard started awkwardly, unsure of himself. “No, sorry. I’m afraid I can’t. Lord Blake has taken ill lately, he’s been bedridden for at least a month. He’s- he’s alright, of course, it’s not life-threatening or anything... but he isn’t well enough to see anyone.” Alarms started going off in Phil’s head. He had heard this spiel before: when the head of a royal house was ‘sick and bedridden’, it usually tied into some kind of ulterior plot by someone aiming for their seat of power. “Please, this is important.” Phil stressed. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do?” The soldier shook his head, exasperated. “Ugh... Look. If it’s that important, whatever it is, I can try to get his uncle to talk to you. That’s the best I can offer you. Blake really can’t see anyone.” Phil looked to Misty, who just sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Get him out here then.” The soldier cast one last doubtful glance at the group, sizing them up. His gaze flitted over Trixie, as she was rather unassuming- if eccentric- in her classical outfit. He spent an extra few seconds on both Misty and Phil, seeming to be trying to place where he had seen the two before. Misty hadn’t actually made any effort to disguise herself, and was simply unrecognizable as she was. Her hair hadn’t been tended in a good long while, and her clothes were a step above rags in this stage of their life. It wouldn’t have made much difference if anyone recognized Misty, though- she wasn’t wanted by the capitol. Phil, on the other hand, had to be careful not to be spotted by the wrong eyes. Xekora had helped him with that- he had been suited up with new-ish clothing, his trademark leather jacket traded for a darker, lighter-weight one. His messy flame-orange hair had been trimmed slightly more neatly, and his wings were tucked warmly and out-of-sight beneath his jacket. He was virtually unrecognizable, but there was always the off chance... The soldier shook his head clear and walked back to the doors to the manse. Phil sighed in relief. The three weary travelers were left to wait nervously by the gate, unsure of what their next move would be. Phil was still doubtful about what was really going on with Blake, and he guessed that his uncle would be the one to know about it. The problem would be to get him to share what was really going on, especially if it was some kind of grab for the throne orchestrated by the uncle himself. Phil shook his head, in part because he was still somewhat sleepy. I’m being paranoid. He told himself. This uncle was supposed to the the nice one in the family. I seriously doubt he’s trying to take over Leo. Still... I also doubt that Blake is actually sick at all. No, I know there’s something else going on here. I’m just not sure what... I can’t rule out any possibilities. We’re approaching wartime, and being paranoid of everything is the better way to survive. I don’t want to believe there’s some kind of plot going on, but... I just can’t be sure yet. At long last, the great doors swung open again, and another figure strode outside. Unlike the soldier that had been ‘guarding’ the entryway, this man meant business. His hair, roughly the same color as Misty’s, was cut rather short and combed neatly, and he wore a fancier version of the leather armor the guards used. A scimitar- House Leo’s trademark weapon- hung at his back, but it looked more ornamental than lethal. The man walked alone, not electing to have a soldier or two escort him, but Phil could tell that this must have been Lord Blake’s uncle and advisor. Judging by his expression, he seemed interested, but not threatened, by his visitors. This observation was strengthened when he pushed the gate open and stepped through, to address the three properly. “I was wondering who would drop by unannounced like this, utterly without warning, and try to get an audience with the head of the house, and by extension, the city.” He commented, but was not hostile in his tone. “I certainly wasn’t expecting a visit from one of the great Wonderbolts, but I suppose it is your style of doing things, isn’t it, Misty?” “Good to see you again, Rilken.” Misty said, as though greeting an old friend. “I didn’t plan on being here myself, but even then, I don’t have much grounds to make arrangements like these. I’m nothing anymore. I pretty much hit rock bottom not too long ago, and got bested by these two kids. They’re the one’s in charge of this operation, I’m just along for the ride at this stage.” Rilken Leo turned his attention to the other two. It took him a moment, but realization dawned on his face. “Ah, the human phoenix. Again, far from what I expected today. Well, what brings you here, and in the company of Misty the Wonderbolt, and a textbook Black Mage?” Phil was worried for a moment that Rilken revealing him might have been heard by someone else, but was relieved when he saw no-one else around. “Well...” Phil started, knowing he had to play carefully until he knew he could trust Rilken. “We’re here on a mission given to us in part by the Lady Rarity. I know that she and Blake are close, so I hoped to be able to speak to him. It’s strange to hear that he’s fallen ill...” Rilken held Phil’s gaze steadily, not hostile, but definitely pressing. Phil didn’t back down. They stood off for several seconds, neither making the first move. Finally, Rilken blinked. “You all are opposed to Celestia, aren’t you?” The question had come out of nowhere, and Phil had no idea how he had drawn that conclusion. Phil took a moment before confirming quietly that this was the case. Rilken nodded knowingly. “Thought so. Don’t worry, you needn’t worry with me. The Queen has done her share of damage to this city by the sea over the years, just the same as others. Now, if only to satisfy your curiosity...” Rilken looked around quickly, double checking that they weren’t being listened in on, but even then spoke in a hushed tone: “You’re right in assuming that Blake is, in fact, perfectly well. He’s also not even in town. Blake has left to personally join a small resistance faction called New Dawn. I can’t tell you anything else about it, but suffice to say Leo is behind them.” Phil let out a relieved sigh. Rilken, and House Leo, were already on their side. And Rilken already trusted Misty enough to know he could say these things to Phil and Trixie without risking the throne finding out. In a low voice, Phil quickly explained the situation so far: his deserting the throne, the mounting resistance against Celestia, his and Trixie’s mission to bring together resistances from other towns and cities, Misty joining their cause after her surprise attack, and their request that Leo join them to help them bring in Trottingham. Rilken nodded thoughtfully at each new piece of information, remaining silent until Phil finished. Finally he spoke up again: “Well, I suppose you’ve come to the right place. Leo doesn’t have a very large standing militia, but we do control the ports. And we have ships. This coast will be safe when things start getting crazy. And, I will do all I can to convince the lord and lady of Trottingham to join the cause. This, I’m afraid, is all I can offer you. We need every able-bodied person we have to defend the town if shots start flying, so I can give you no soldiers.” Misty nodded solemnly. “I understand. This is a rather central city, and if anything, you could use some troops lent to you. We’ll see if we can send some more men your way after we leave. We appreciate what you’re doing for us.” The two shook hands firmly, like the old friends they appeared to be. “I can offer you one other thing, though. There’s been a... gentleman in town recently,” He seemed to be using the word gentleman in an extremely loose sense, “and he may be able to offer you some assistance himself. I believe you can find him at the pub on the side street down by the market at this- or any- time of the day.” “Alright, who is it? What’s he look like?” Misty inquired. “Oh, you’ll know him when you see him.” Rilken assured. “Go ahead and do that now if you’re going to- I’m going to arrange for some accommodations in the mansion for you three. I’ll want you in town a few days to make sure we know all we need to- and I’m sure you’re all travel-weary, anyway.”