//------------------------------// // Intermission // Story: Scorpan the Betrayer // by Captain Hurricane //------------------------------// The chamber of King Scorpan was richly decorated. A massive bed dominated the area; the bed’s posts reached high above Princess Twilight’s head. In stark contrast to the rest of the castle’s decoration, this room was filled with greens, blues, and golden hues. A full size portrait of a chimera hung upon one wall; its subject gazed down upon Twilight, sending chills throughout her body. The painting, faded from age and soot stained, was clear enough to portray a creature that sported a dragon, goat, and lion head. Parts of his body matched each head: tail of a lion, wings of a dragon, hooves of a goat. Twilight could barely make out an amulet around the dragon’s neck; it was both golden and triangular. Other furnishings were slightly less impressive. A cabinet with bottles of presumably expensive wines and liquors stood tall, its oaken architecture undoubtedly the hoofwork of a master craftspony. Large, overstuffed chairs, sized for minotaurs, held exotic patterns in blues and yellows, and a curio next to a writing desk held several boxes and objects of curiosity. Twilight studied some of them casually while Scorpan cleared the cherrywood table of plates, cups, and utensils. “My apologies. I take most meals in my chambers these days. Diplomatic affairs with the Griffon Territories have kept me engaged the last few weeks. Between entertaining Minovan entrepreneurs and staving off war with the neighbors, your visit here, Twilight, is a refreshing intermission. “You want to hear my story? Very well. I was born twelve hundred and sixty, no, sixty one years ago. I grew up, visited Equestria, and returned. I’ve lived in this castle ever since. Story of my life.” Scorpan sat stone-faced; Twilight wasn’t able to discern if he was serious or joking. “That…wasn’t really what I had in mind, Scorpan. I wanted to know, why…” “…why Princess Celestia never told you about me?” Finishing the princess’ sentence, Scorpan stood from his seat. He walked over to the curio, grabbing a small wooden box off one of the shelves. He sighed deeply, and as he removed layers of dust from the parcel in his paws, he could feel a rush of abandoned memories rise up within him. He shook the small package, and seemed satisfied with the result. “If Equestria forgot about Tirek and I, then all was as it should have been. It was not by accident that the name of Scorpan has been absent from your history lessons. After Tirek had been banished, the first time, it seems, I suggested to Celestia and Luna that any record of my brother or I be kept secret. Some foolish cultists who followed Tirek believed he had been destroyed; I thought it best that there was no evidence to the contrary. “It’s time that I set that record straight, Twilight.” The massive chimera walked back towards Twilight, and stood near the overstuffed chair on the opposite side of the alicorn. “The stories of Tirek, of Starswirl, of Clover, of Celestia and Luna…” Scorpan paused, his voice trembling as he said the next name. “Firefly… these ponies played their part in a grand saga, forgotten to all but a pawful. Their histories are far more exciting than mine. I am different now…vastly different from the chimera I was then. The world should know the story that I deemed hidden for centuries, locked away in the furthest reaches of my mind. “The story of Scorpan, the Betrayer.” Twilight wrote furiously, her magically manipulated quills struggling to keep pace with the king’s monologue. Scorpan sat back in his chair, watching curiously as Twilight quickly dipped and redipped several quills, recording every word as though her future depended upon it. He opened the box upon his lap, studying the contents within wistfully. “Well, my newfound biographer. Tell me, how do most ponies begin the story of their life?” He rested his square jaw upon a massive fist, and shot a quizzical glance in Twilight’s direction. “Well, however you feel comfortable. Most ponies start by talking about their families….” Twilight felt slightly awkward in bringing up what must have surely been a sore subject for the king; her embarrassment was short lived, though, as Scorpan continued along the path she suggested. “My family…of course. It has always been a most peculiar thing, my family. My father was a great chimera. Kletos...the Mighty.” The king gestured toward the chimera painting behind him. Twilight was sure the chimera was staring at her, his soot stained eyes showing a ferocity and nobility unmatched even by Nightmare Moon. “One swipe of his paw and whole minotaur legions would cower. A nod, and a dozen minotaurs would be hanged by sundown. One word, and the armies of Minova would destroy any opposition. He was brutal to those who defied him, but dispensed his vast wisdom upon my brother and I, grooming both of us in equal measure for positions of command. “My mother was a changeling. She left my father when I was young; her name and face are lost to the centuries. And my brother….once, long ago, he was to inherit the throne of Minova.” Twilight cleared her throat. “Erm, have you ever thought to try and find your mother? I can’t imagine what it must have been like without both my parents at home.” “I have.” Scorpan shook his head slowly. “Her lifespan could have been nowhere near a chimera’s. She’s…. been dead since I was young.” “That’s…terrible.” Twilight’s pens settled on the table, their purple aura no longer holding them in telekinetic limbo. “You have my condolences.” “Your sentiments are appreciated, Twilight, but they are unnecessary. I came to terms with mortality many moons ago; that of my mother, my father…and my own. “ Scorpan stood again. Walking to the liquor cabinet, he grabbed a bottle and two glasses, and returned to set both glasses down near Twilight’s impromptu workstation. Even without the label, Twilight could instantly tell it was a bottle of Sweet Apple Acres Blue Label 20 Year Reserve, the most expensive cider in any market. “A small indulgence, if you will. A pony friend of mine introduced me to fine ciders. This was a gift from a Minovan motivational speaker who traveled through Equestria about two years ago. I've been waiting for the right occasion to open it.” Uncorking the bottle with his bare paws, he poured a mostly full glass, setting it near Twilight. The glass he poured himself nearly emptied the whole bottle. “When I talk for long periods, my throat gets unsufferably dry and scratchy. A little cider is more than enough to keep my throat, and my mind, lubricated.” He raised his glass in the air, gesturing toward Twilight in a toast. The lavender alicorn did likewise, her glass becoming enveloped in a magical aura before meeting Scorpan’s. A smile, genuine and warm, grew upon the ancient chimera’s face. The two cups clinked together, their sound embodying and complimenting the toast that came after. In one voice, two regal creatures spoke, their words entwining themselves in a magic all of their own. “To friendship.” “To friendship.”