//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Discord Punches Twilight In The Face // by Craine //------------------------------// “What?!” Luna shouted with wall-crumbling volume. If Celestia hadn’t already used thirty-seven ice packs over the last three days, she would've had one right then—and may’ve caught hypothermia. Instead, she sat in her throne, eyes curtained by frazzled, flowing mane, and with her magic holding a very troubling letter. “He called the Duchess of Trottingham a… a… a what?!” Celestia slowly, deliberately brought the letter to her own muzzle, reiterating those three damning words with a shaky tone. “A beached whale. Discord called the mare who funds our trading agreement… a beached… whale.” Luna picked up her jaw and stomped on the immaculate throne. “Why?!” she shouted. “Why does he do these things?!” Through her mane, Celestia stared at Luna like she’d asked why fish live in water. “Stupid!” the dark mare shouted again. “Stupid Discord! Stupid book! Stupid foal who took his book! Stupid, stupid, stupid!” In a divine flash of inspiration, Celestia decided not to read the second letter out loud. Or tell her sister she’d received it at all. Surely the last thing Luna needed to hear was Discord hitting on the Maretonian Duke’s daughter, then turning all their vegetables into a swarm of locusts. “Sister, tell me you’ve warned Princess Cadance,” Luna begged, suddenly exhausted. “We can ill-afford any more of this.” Celestia’s eyes didn't emerged from her hair. “Warned her the day Discord left,” she said. Finally, Luna calmed herself enough to sit beside the other mare, her forehead wrinkled with stress and insomnia. “Well, at least we know that no allies have taken his book,” Celestia said. “I’m not sure I see the bright side,” Luna replied, glancing warily though one of many large windows. “The air grows thick. The horizon turns dark…” Celestia stifled a sigh as she shared her sister’s view. It was true. The matron of day had denied it first glance, the first day Discord had been gone. She passed it off as a fluke, or some nationwide pegasus holiday that a ruler of Equestria knew nothing about. Both notions were absurd, of course. Clouds, black as night and thick as curdled milk, climbed from the distance and rose into clear skies like spilled ink. “A precursor to your visions?” Celestia asked. Luna bowed her head in worry. “I fear, if the culprit isn’t found soon…” she trailed off. Celestia closed her eyes, if only to tear her sight from the approaching maelstrom. There was no longer any doubt that Discord was behind the destruction Luna described. They both knew it was only a matter of time. She turned back to her sister and said, “It’s past time we intervened.” Luna lifted her head with a determined frown. “Yes. I’ve already contacted the Element of Kindness just the other night. I suspect she’s spoken with Discord since his book was taken,” she said. Celestia gave a clipped nod. “Good. I’ve no doubt that she’d be able to calm him, if nothing else.”  The sun princess couldn’t help but notice Luna’s wrinkled muzzle, nor the quiet hiss through her nose. “Are… you okay?” After a beat, the moon princess turned her frowned to Celestia. “I still can’t believe you made me donate the kittens…” she said. Celestia returned the frown. “You’re not the one who has to take a cortisone shot every hour for the next week. Have you any idea how long it took  to remove all the cat hair?” Luna frowned harder. “Well, I should; you made me clean it up,” she growled through clenched teeth. “And I’ll ask you now, what I asked you then.” Celestia’s frown lifted into a tiny smile. “What have we learned?” Luna just scowled. “Thought so…” Considering her occupation, Fluttershy should’ve been used to this. It wasn’t often her cottage was filled to the ceiling with pairs of every woodland creature in existence, but Fluttershy was nothing if not tolerant. And she was very tolerant. She always took every frenzied squeak, chirp, and roar with a smile that could've made any criminal turn themselves in, and she’d soothe them with that voice that sang without singing. Today, she panicked with them. Justified, of course. Seeing inky black clouds climb from the horizon would've scared anypony, never mind a skittish mare like her. What made it all so much worse? She knew the cause. And she, along with every animal—no, every living thing on Equus—had every right to be worried. Very, very worried. “Oh my goodness,” Fluttershy whimpered, pacing in what little elbow room her frightened animals allowed. “Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness, please hurry, girls.” A tiny mew gave her ear a twitch. She glanced sadly at the very new, very unexpected bundle of kittens in a straw basket beside her. For the past three days, Fluttershy couldn’t hope to guess where they came from. There wasn’t even a clue, save for a note that read, ‘Blame my sister!’ in frenzied, red scribbles. That didn’t concern her, though. Discord in an uncontrollable blood-rage, maybe, but not this. There was a knock at the door, and Fluttershy couldn’t quite remember learning the limber acrobatics she performed to get to it. She threw the door open and smiled for the first time in days. “Oh, thank Celestia you’re all he—” “Do you see this?!” Rainbow Dash shouted, gesturing to the blackened horizon. “Do you see this?! This has ‘fifty hours overtime’ written all over it!” Applejack shoved the furious pegasus aside with a huff. “Don’t mind her, sugarcube. She’s just ornery for skippin’ out on work,” she said. “Indeed,” Rarity added. “ And judging by those clouds…” Fluttershy blanched. “Oh, no! I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to impose.” Applejack shrugged and said, “S’okay, ‘Shy. I was gonna check up on you anyway when I got your message.” A frightened carrier-pigeon poked its head from AJ’s mane and darted to its caretaker’s, shivering. “And, not to worry, dear,” Rarity said. “I may have been hard at work, but when my newly-created scarf tied itself into a noose and chased me around the Boutique, I—” “Fifty! Hours! Overtime!” They all stared blankly at a quaking Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy turned back to Applejack. “But where’s Pinkie Pie?” The others grimaced. “That’s… when we knew, for sure, something was amiss,” Rarity said. Applejack stood aside and allowed a confused Fluttershy to see their tense shivering pink friend. Her teeth chattered like she’d slept in a blizzard. Her muscles were cracked and defined beneath her rigid frame, and speaking coherently was impossible. “D-d-d-d-d-da-da-do-d-d-d—” “Doozy.” AJ, Rarity, and a finally-calm Rainbow Dash chimed together. Fluttershy’s hooves shot to her cheeks. “Oh, pickles! It’s worse than I thought! This is terrible! Horrible!” She crushed her nose against a shocked Applejack’s. “Where’s Twilight?! You all need to hear this!” The farm mare stumbled away and regained herself. “W-we thought she’d be here fir—” Fluttershy had already left a fading trail of dust toward Ponyville’s new castle. Jaws were dropped. Rarity, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash shared worried glances and rushed after the frantic pegasus. Pinkie followed them with shudders, her hooves pelting a cratered path, and her every shake worsening all the more. ********** It wasn’t inviting to furiously beat on a castle door like it owed her money, but Fluttershy wasn’t exactly at peace. A panting Applejack snatched one of the mare’s yellow hooves. “Hold on there… sugarcube,” the earth pony said between pants. “Ya gonna tell us what’s got you wound tighter than grubs in a bird cage?” Fluttershy turned to her waiting friends with a deep breath. The door opened behind her, and she threw her eyes at a… very peculiar sight. Spike. Wearing a velvet robe. In midday. With a bubble pipe. “Ah, ladies,” the little dragon greeted. “So kind of you to join us.” Rainbow Dash blinked and started snickering. “Okay. What’s going on? You only wear that getup when your chores are done. And, last I checked, you live in big castle with twelve floors and no servants.” Spike just grinned. It all became so clear to me. After all the virtues I threw away, after all I had squandered for my own gain, I finally understood what a being with cosmic knowledge and power could never gain on his own; the most powerful magic of all. The magic that changed me in ways I’d never fathomed. Me, a deceiver who’d driven fathers paranoid, and turned them against their own sons. Me, a seducer who’d turned wise kings into power-mad fools, and laughed as their towers hit the ground. Me, a monster… They forgave me for all my flaws, my selfishness and cruelty, and even stomached my betrayal. They changed me. They taught me. They saved me. An uncaring fiend no longer, I stood for every peasant, bum, and scrub on this little dirt-clod among the stars. And they stood for m— ~ “Ah-ha!” came Spike’s victorious shout. Twilight unleashed a squeal so pitched, it rivaled those of her childhood. She shoved the book beneath her bed, snatched her trusty feather-duster and dusted like she hadn’t in done so in days. Which, according to Spike, and why she wore a tiny apron at the time, was the whole reason she was dusting in the first place. Twilight stopped and turned to a smirking Spike with her own tiny grin. “W-why, Spike. You, uh… surprised me,” she said, straightening her dusty mane. The dragon smirked on. “Yup. Tends to happen to ponies caught in the act,” he replied. Twilight fell to her rump by complete accident, her tiny smile growing and growing. “But, of course!” she agreed a little too eagerly. “You know how I am with cleaning! Can’t control myself, sometimes!” By the time Twilight realized she’d sounded like a complete idiot, Spike was already marching toward her. And despite the wings, extensive knowledge of teleportation magic, or functional legs, Twilight couldn’t escape. He closed in. She skittered away until her back pressed against the bed. His smirk remained. Her smile became so stretched it actually started to hurt. He raised an eyebrow. She started to sweat. He stopped just inches between her shaky legs, looking up at those shifting purple eyes. Her tail twitched to one side, hiding the partially exposed book. Spike glanced down at the tail, then back at Twilight. He took hit of his bubble pipe. “Our friends are here,” he said in a light tone. “Fluttershy has news.” Twilight’s enormous grin vanished. To say Princess Cadance was nervous would be a bold, punishable lie. Because Princess Cadance, in fact, wasn't nervous, she was terrified beyond rational thought and diction. She already recieved the letters, of course, she was warned days before Discord fell through the crystalline ceiling and marched toward her shared throne. But she was still terrified, if not for the sheer magnitude of Celestia's warning or Discord's thick, rib-caving presence, then for a frowning Shining Armor rising from his throne. Cadance eased him back down with a hoof, her eyes worried. Discord marched on, his steps echoing dimly among the jagged crystal architecture. He lifted a claw, and a plush red couch flashed into the fray. His steps slowed and stumbled until he collapsed onto the couch with a rather spectacular thud. Silence. After a shared glance with her prince, Cadance cleared her throat. “H-hello Dis—” An eagle talon raised and silenced her. With shaky arms, Discord lifted his torso from the velvety couch cushions, his eyes lidded and heavy. “Surely, Your Highnesses,” he began lowly and evenly, “you’ve been told of my coming.” Husband and wife shared another glance, turned back to Discord and nodded. The draconequus slithered from his couch and stood rigid before the throne. “Then, surely,” he drove a scaly foot backwards and kicked the now flipping couch across the room. It hit the throne doors, but didn’t shatter; instead, it crystallized them shut, “you know why I’m here.” Cadance’s eyes widened, a quickened thump in her chest numbing her hooves. She glanced at her husband, his hoof pressed firm upon the sword at his hip. “Y-yes,” Cadance answered. She was tempted to smile, but feared such a fake gesture would only worsen things. “I suppose this means you haven’t found your book?” “Mm-hm…” Discord hummed. “Then what business do you have with us?” Shining Armor spat, gaining a frightened glare and hiss from his wife. Discord paused, his tired stare darkening a bit.  “The same business that’s taken me across this world and back. I require help in finding it.” “I hardly think that excuses your recent actions,” the unicorn said. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Discord said flatly. Shining Armor scoffed. "Right. Let's overlook our crystal spires turning to ordinary glass, waterfalls pouring from our buildings and creating puddles of golden bits that ponies have been rioting over for the last two hours." He ignored his wife's gentle prod. "Shall we forget about Trottingham and Maretonia while we're at it?" "Shining Armor," Cadance whispered. “Why should we help, when you terrorized all who couldn’t?” Discord frowned, his eyes flashing with bright red. “Careful, prince,” he warned with a lifted paw. “I’m here to solve my problem, not to become yours.” Shining Armor’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?” Discord’s eyes narrowed right back. “Should it be?” Cadance shot from her seat. “Gentlemen, please! This is hardly the time or place!” In seconds, Discord’s gut-twisting scowl lifted back into his tired stare, and Shining Armor fell back in his seat. Cadance remained standing. “I’m sorry Discord, but the book isn’t here. When word of you issue reached us, we flipped the empire on its head, and interrogated ponies who weren’t even at the Ballroom Party to find it.” Discord remained still for a moment. A very long, blood-chilling moment. Then his eyes slowly fell to the crystal floor. “I see…” The spirit turned away and sauntered toward the balcony. Both rulers leaped off their throne. They galloped down the stairs and stopped when they saw him. He was just standing there, his lion paw draped over the railing like a fur curtain, staring out at swirling black clouds, golden glimmers of bits, and smoke climbing the sky. “I. Am so. Sick of this,” the spirit said a slight tremble in his tone. “I’ve done nothing but frivolously gallivant from place to place, hoping I’d find it, or at least a clue. But no. I can’t have nice things. I can’t have the one thing I created from nothing. Is that too much to ask?” “That depends.” Shining Armor piped up. “If you do find it, what exactly are you going to do with the thief?” Discord’s back snapped rigid, and his paw clenched around the groaning metal rail. “Well, I was going to punch them in the face so hard they’d fly miles from whatever slum they live in.” His paw clenched harder. “But now… now, I’ma punch them so hard, everyone who knew, knows, or ever will know them, would feel it.” Shining Armor reached for his blade again. “Not on your li—” A gentle hoof on the shoulder stopped him, and he spun to see a very frightened Cadance. She turned back to Discord. “Could you excuse us a moment, Discord?” The spirit shrugged, his eyes firmly set on the funnel clouds that spun faster, lightning crackling within those clouds. The rulers of the Crystal Empire stood at a corner, their words whispered. “We have to be careful, Shining Armor,” Cadance said. “This is a very delicate task.” “Delicate?” the prince asked with a squinted eye. “You heard him, Cadance; even if he does get his book, he’ll just hurt the pony who took it.” “Exactly. Discord is angry right now, and irking him won’t help us or the poor sod who took it.” Shining Armor scowled. “So, what, we just roll over and let this traitor do what he wants?” “No!” Cadance’s eyes darted to Discord’s direction with a bitten lip. “No, Shining. We have to consider who’s at risk here.” The prince raised a brow. “What if it’s somepony we know?” Cadance continued. “What if that somepony just forgot to leave a note in the check-out box, because they were so eager to read it? Heavens, love, what if it was Twilight?” Shining Armor’s pupils shrunk. “I’ll kill him.” “Guh. You’re missing the point,” Cadance argued, now frowning. “We need to at least try to calm him down; perhaps assist him further in his search. Or, even better, if one of us finds who took it, Discord doesn’t have to know.” The unicorn’s eyes brightened as though a light flickered in his head. “Huh.” Cadance smiled and nuzzled her prince. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.” Shining Armor nodded and they both emerged from their corner. “Okay, Discord, Shining and I have talked it over, and…Discord?” The balcony was empty. Discord was gone with only a crushed rail to remember him by. Then they both remembered—even after a whole year of ruling the empire—that crystal actually carry sound. And realized Discord heard every word. “Oh. Well, this is, um…” Shining Armor paused for seconds, searching for the perfect articulation. He failed.