Alistair shuffled slowly along the dark passageway’s wall, his right arm rested against the stony cold surface while his left was outstretched forward in detection. The distant echoing of Shale’s galloping hooves against the floor was becoming fainter and fainter by the minute, a clear sign that she was getting further and further away.
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he hastened his speed, hoping that the dastardly witch wouldn’t slip through his grasp once again. But as he took another step forward in the black and seemingly endless tunnel, he felt the supporting wall to his right suddenly disappear.
Stepping back in horror, he frantically felt around for the solid flat surface that had been his single guiding force for Celestia-knows how long. His palms rubbed against a blocky corner, followed with another wall that moved off farther in a different direction. Sighing dejectedly to himself, he knew all to well what this meant.
He was in some sort of room now, more than likely grandiose and decrepit as was the rest of the mountain’s inner décor. An echo of his own footsteps travelled around where he stood, giving evidence to a large chamber. Other than these possible assumptions, he had absolutely no idea where he was.
“Shale?!” he yelled out shrilly, praying that he hadn’t completely lost what he was looking for, and, that the only other pony who could navigate their way out of the crypt hadn’t disappeared.
“You lost?” echoed her mocking voice from somewhere in the chamber. “Want my help, even after all that talking about ‘beating you this time’? I’m getting mixed messages here.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Alistair’s brow as he stammered out a response. “I-I…w-we…could you just come out already? I know you’re in here.”
Shale chuckled. “And ruin the fun of watching you bumble around pathetically in the dark? Not a chance, kid.”
Alistair spun around searchingly, trying to detect some vague direction of where her voice travelled from. Problem was, it didn’t even seem to travel through the room, but instead boomed all throughout it, with no point of origin to go off of.
“So are you going to kill me then?” he retorted with as much strength he could muster into his words.
“Kill you?” she repeated. “I don’t want to kill you, at least not anymore. For now I have other purposes for you, specific ones in fact.”
“Such as?”
“A conversational sparing partner,” she said with a patronizing twinge and no doubt a big smile on her face as well. “I wish to talk, as friends if you’d like.”
“You’re no friend of mine,” he said harshly. “And you never will be.”
“Really? Because from what I understand you’re having a little trouble with companionship as of recent, especially with a certain Princess Twilight.”
“Don’t you even speak that name!” he snarled viciously with balled fists. “Leave that…mare out of this, now!”
“Interesting,” she said coolly, “most interesting indeed. I understood that you have a disdain for the pony but this is a very enlightening display indeed.”
“Shut up!” he shouted once again, his eyes now swiveling for her location with an animal-like ferocity.
“You don’t have to hide it, I’m already aware of your thoughts regarding her.”
“Shut up!”
“You hate her,” echoed her voice eerily but with a deeply soothing tone. “Ever since that fateful day when the crown was placed atop her head, you’ve hated her with every fiber of your being.”
“Stop it!”
“You’ve tried denying it, running from it, and yet she continues to act in the way you despise. Your once charming and kind friend replaced with a hollow shell of who she once was. Now a miniature copy of the all powerful deity she’s always aspired to be.”
“That’s not true!” he yelled indignantly. “She’ll change I know it, she’ll…” his voice broke off, the desperate wish dying even before he spoke it in full.
“Denying your true feelings will get you nowhere, Alistair. Embrace what you feel inside, acknowledge it, and grow to understand it. Even those cut off from the arcane can sense the rage within, seeping out from your very state of being, almost as if a tangible part of yourself.”
“I…”
“Accept yourself,” she said calmly, “and the pain you have felt for so long will finally set you free.”
“That can’t—”
“Let it go, you’ve carried this on for too long. She is not your friend.”
An icy emptiness slowly crystallized in the crest of his chest. A cold rage flowed back through his veins, the same feeling he’d experienced while viciously fighting the snow trolls just days before. He felt powerful and in control, some form of clarity pocking through the muddled cloud that had become of his mind ever since his life had fallen to pieces.
“It’s her fault,” he muttered, his voice beginning to darken past its normal tone. “She changed, her personality, her etiquette. So wise, so perfect…so detached.”
Alistair paused as he let the weight of his words bore themselves into his mind, furthering his rage toward the lavender mare that had abandoned and forgotten him so long ago. “She must pay.”
“What that be productive for you?” she asked evenly, sensing the rising emotion already clouding his senses. “Pursuing after her with an empty ambition of simply evening the score? That won’t change anything, in fact, it could make things worse.”
Alistair could feel his nerves beginning to cool, Shale’s logic calming him to a mildly stagnant state. Sensing that he was now listening, she continued.
“There are more constructive things for you to do with your talents, no matter what your anger tells you. You have acknowledged your true feelings, but you still fail to control them.”
“Then what should I do?” he asked. “I thought there was a point of you telling me all this.”
“There is, but you aren’t ready for it, not now. You have much to learn and much to reflect on. Specifically, who’s helping who.”
Shale tightly smiled, relishing in what she was about to say while throwing every bit of her own true passion into it. “You were new to the entire structuring of the society, or just the existence of society at all. You didn’t grow up with the benefit of learning about other forms of administration and control. You were unfortunately thrust right into its midst without any realization that something could be different.”
Alistair raised an eyebrow. “Are you talking about Equestria?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I mean. A country born off the literal personification of chaos and one shaped by the necessity of cooperation among those different from one another. A grand beginning to be quite honest, but one that is now shackled by inadequacy in the present.”
“Inadequate?” he repeated while scratching his head. “How is that?”
Shale stamped her hoof with a sudden anger when addressing the subject. “Because all those living in Equestria are unable to truly understand what they have before them, a nation of strength and promise, but also one of tyranny and spinelessness.”
“Griffon pirates continually raid off the southern coasts; dragons seasonally destroy whatever they come across during their migrations, creatures from Tartarus escape at random, Vile Stretch ponies continually causing political instability.”
“Almost every year some ancient threat arises along the kingdom’s fringes, an all-powerful force strikes unseen from the shadows and only through pure luck and the competence of a few ponies is the entire kingdom allowed to survive.”
“When the Changelings reemerged right under Celestia’s snout, what happened? Celestia was defeated by their queen, imprisoned, and left to watch as her student was able to salvage the situation and actually make herself useful. Is that what a leader should do?”
Alistair shook his head.
“Good,” she complemented with satisfaction, “you’re learning.”
“Has anypony ever challenged this?” the boy asked studiously, the facts supplied from Shale slowly beginning to make sense. “Surely somepony would be against how she’s handled things, especially as of recent.”
Shale sighed grimly. “Once—a very long time ago. It was her sister, Luna, the one who’s taken to being her lackey once again. Back then however, she openly challenged Celestia’s tyranny, tried to stop the evil that had become of her sister. They fought, but unfortunately Celestia’s power was too great. Luna was defeated, branded a traitor, and banished to the moon for an a thousand year imprisonment. A deadly message to all those brave enough to question the Princess of the Sun.”
“That’s insane!” cried Alistair indignantly. “How can she get away with something like that?”
“Because she’s the ruler of Equestria, and what she says goes.” Shale’s voice turned even colder than before. “The country you represent through your diplomatic matters is not a wholly sound one. It has the potential of a truly grand society, but the single mare who rules over it is both incapable to lead and mad with her own power.” She paused and exhaled deeply. “And need I remind you what her royalty did to you as well?”
A dark shadow seemed to cast itself visually over Alistair, one even darker and emptier than the endless crypt they found themselves in. “I remember, I remember all too well.”
“Than you understand who is at fault, both directly and indirectly? You understand the steps to what has led you to this very day, speaking with me at this very moment.”
Alistair nodded gravely. “Yes.”
“Than you have taken your first step.”
Alistair heard a clicking of hooves against stone followed by a large drop onto something solid. A few moments later, he felt a hoof rest against his shoulder.
“Follow me,” commanded Shale quietly, “I have something to show you.”
Nudging him forward with her foreleg, Alistair took a few steps blindly forwards. Placing her hoof against his back, she slowly guided him through another black abyss, a strange aura of trust tying them both together.