//------------------------------// // II - The Ringmaster // Story: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite // by Corejo //------------------------------// The Ringmaster “My name is Mr. Kite.”  She descended the final stair into the foyer, her hooves padding on the velvet runway, the bangles around her right hoof jingling together.  “Though, I’m sure my dear Sylissyth has already made that known to you.” A wave of fear rippled across Twilight’s back.  Something about this mare tripped many wires in her brain, all signalling that she should turn and run—the way her voice carried forth in slow, melodious rhythm, how her smile was a little too thin all the while.  But Twilight’s hooves had found themselves like stone, unwilling to budge.  All she could do was stare back into those deep-blue eyes.  They had yet to blink. There was a depth to them, like oceans so unfathomable as to hide countless secrets.  She didn’t know why, but they reminded her of Canterlot Castle.  Someone she had once met? “Ye—” she swallowed and forced what little confidence she could into her voice “—yes... He did.  He called you ‘The Master.’” Mr. Kite leaned her head back, a brow rising over a smile brighter than the polka dotted kerchief in her pocket.  “Ah, well it seems he has taken to his old manners, then.”  She took a step forward, her eyes cast to the brazier for a moment.  “His kind can be so… aggressive, but Sylissyth…”  She flicked her eyes back to Twilight.  “Can be, quite harmless.”  She giggled.  It sounded like that of a foal, scampering through a playground.  It reminded Twilight of a laugh she had heard once as a filly, but like the eyes, she couldn’t place it. “But enough about him,” Mr. Kite said.  “I must hear about you.” Something lurched in the pit of Twilight’s stomach.  “M-me?” “Why yes.”  The brazier’s fire danced in Mr. Kite’s eyes, but its glow rather seemed to come from within.  Slow, calculating, watchful, she turned for a doorway on the left behind the staircase, her gaze locked with Twilight’s.  “The prized student of Princess Celestia herself.  Bearer of the Element of Magic.”  Something else flickered in her eyes.  “Princess Twilight Sparkle.” Each word rolled slowly over the other like a candy in her mouth.  “Who could possibly not want to hear all there is to know about her?” Twilight hesitated.  She could think of a dozen ponies in Canterlot alone who didn’t care for any of the princesses.  Fame was one of many things that never came her way with princesshood.  And she felt better off for it. “Come,” Mr. Kite said, apparently sensing the pause.  “We can speak as we walk.  There is so much I want to show you.” Twilight raised a hoof for stepping, but planted it firmly.  Spike was still missing, and it was because of this mare and her lackeys.  “No.” Mr. Kite glanced back.  “Excuse me?” She wasn’t about to play her little game.  “Where’s Spike?  What did you do to him?” “Your little dragon friend is safe, for the time being,” Mr. Kite said.  She turned back toward Twilight, head turned to the side, eyes scrying every inch of her.  “But I’m afraid Syllisyth isn’t the most, how would you say—forgiving—of rude guests.”  She traced the shape of a hook on the carpet. Twilight felt herself span the distance between them reflexively, snout pressed against Kite’s.  “If you touch a single scale on his head...” “Ah,” Kite said, stepping back, smiling.  “Rather quick to threaten, are we?”  Her horn glowed red like a blushing cheek, and a flap of her tuxedo drew back to reveal a silver stiletto, keener than a hair’s width.  “As am I, Twilight Sparkle, if you so choose.” The way the dagger shimmered without the light of the brazier held Twilight in place.  It hummed in the aether on a frequency only practiced unicorns could perceive.  She felt it more than she heard it.  The enchantment within held immense power. Mr. Kite buttoned her tuxedo.  “I trust we are on the same page?”  Her eyes were inquisitive, yet set.  She already knew the answer, but desired hearing it regardless. “Take me to Spike,” Twilight said like gravel.  “Now.” The corner of Mr. Kite’s mouth curled in suppressed victory.  “My dear, Twilight Sparkle, you forget your predicament.  You—” “Now.”  Twilight stomped a hoof forward, a carpet-dampened chink of marble splitting the silence. Mr. Kite turned for the door.  “You will see your little friend again soon.  But first I would like you to walk with me.” There was no arguing with her.  With a salamander potentially lurking around any corner and Spike held hostage, the playing field was hers.  Twilight offered a growling sigh. It was received politely enough with a smile.  “Follow me, if you please.” Mr. Kite led Twilight through a side door into a dimly lit hallway.  Tent flaps branched off into what she could only guess was a maze of rooms and more hallways.  She had given up expecting it to act anything like a normal tent and instead imagined it as a castle, with just as many secrets as rooms. Why this mare had come to Ponyville gnawed at Twilight.  Of all ponies, she felt herself the last on any possible list worth meeting.  Kidnapping Spike made a statement, though.  Whatever it was, it was important to the monster walking ahead of her, and worth such despicable, underhanded methods. “So tell me, Twilight Sparkle, what does a princess such as yourself do?  Surely you have some administrative duties about Ponyville?” Fishing for dirt?  It was an innocent enough question on the surface, perhaps meant to reestablish formalities.  No reason to take chances. “I have some,” Twilight said.  “But mostly I just run the town library.”  They turned down another corridor, Kite slowing to pace her.   “Only a library?  Does Princess Celestia not delegate responsibilities?  One would think being a princess would mean assuming a position of power, even if only a minor one at first.” “Power?  Not hardly.  I couldn’t see myself running a town much less ruling a nation.” Mr. Kite snorted.  There was a hint of momentary detachment, a jaggedness to her face at thoughts elsewhere.  Her smile was quick to return. “Hmm, I guess not everypony is as eager to claim what is given them.” An odd statement.  Personal experience, perhaps, and a sore spot if so.  Needed a neutral answer.   “I guess not,” Twilight said. “But I’m sure it will come in due time,“ Mr. Kite appended, rather quickly.  “With such friends as I’ve heard you have, I would believe anything is possible.”   A redirection.  Definitely fishing.  Nibble, appease. “Definitely.”  Twilight turned her head toward Kite in show of validation.  “They’re the best friends anypony could ask for.” Mr. Kite turned her head, chin raised slightly.  “That is wonderful to hear.  And they think highly of you for everything you’ve done, no?” Twilight hesitated.  Though she hated when Kite smiled, the lack of one with the question was unnerving.  The one moment it would have been acceptable to do so, it was withheld—a statement.  Kite was drawing cards from her deck—exploitable weaknesses—and laying them on the table for both to see.  It suddenly felt warm in the hallway. The others were next.   “I would think so,” she said, and too quickly added, “why do you ask?” A glimmer in Kite’s eye belied the nonchalance she maintained.  She continued speaking, slower, more collected.  “Because, Twilight Sparkle, your reputation is... impressive.  Not many ponies could travel through time and come out in one piece, or save an entire kingdom from infiltration and certain destruction.  Not to again mention you’re a princess.” A deflection.  “Well, I guess you could say so,” Twilight said. Mr. Kite gave what sounded like an idle “Hmm,” but Twilight made sure to remember it.  It was an odd place to end the conversation, and with the subtle threats from moments ago it surely meant something to Kite.  Twilight kept her eyes peeled and her ears sharp.  She had to be ready for whenever this would come to a head. Mr. Kite led her around a corner and to the end of the hallway, where a bustling commotion could be seen through the sliver between the flaps of the exit.  She parted them, allowing Twilight first entrance into what was, at first glance, bedlam.  A moment’s digestion changed her mind, settling on a middle ground of organized chaos. The sea of nightmarish creatures she had waded through when following Sylissyth had finished the frameworks of dozens of circus houses, stretching beyond the northern hills.  Some were fully set and draped, their massive canvases towering into the starry sky.  Others were still only skeletons of their true might as muscled beasts of fur and scale hoisted enormous skins overtop the center poles with ropes thicker than Twilight’s legs.  The sight was enough to make her forget her situation. “Are you not impressed?” Mr. Kite asked, a single eye peeking out of the corner of her vision.  “It takes quite the crew for such an undertaking.” Twilight nodded, her gaze locked on the scraggly feathers of a crooked bird-like creature.  It passed on stalky legs, its head twitching about so as to take in all directions with its unblinking eyes.  Her nose scrunched instinctively at the stench of mouldy hay.   They walked around a pen of blindfolded cockatrices and their stone-like gargoyle caretaker.  It sounded like slabs of stone sliding across one another when the creature moved its head to regard them.  “Where exactly are they all from?” she replied, her curiosity getting the better of her. “They are from every corner of the world.  And there are many, many corners.”  She began down a path between two completed circus houses, the many beasts and their heavy loads parting like water around a rock.  They gave Mr. Kite an abnormally wide berth, their eyes alert and locked on her as they passed.  “Every one of them was hoof picked.  I do not care for mere adequacy.” Mr. Kite let a chuckle drift over the clamor about them. Celestia help me, whatever this is... Twilight willed herself to gulp, and fell in line. ≈≈≈×≈≈≈ Mr. Kite led Twilight through a maze of tents.  There was seemingly no method to the madness that was this setup.  The tents reached high above, and the pathways between were narrow like the Canterlot alleyways she had always feared being caught alone in as a filly.  Only by the stars above did she know they headed north, toward Canterlot Lake and its mirroresque surface—a nighttime sky all its own, just visible from the library balcony.  What she wouldn’t have given to be back there, a book propped against the railing, Spike’s snoring muffled by the balcony door. She noticed as they walked the top of a tent far larger than any of the others looming in the distance.  Its upper body was a clouded grey in the nighttime darkness, the carnival lights unable to reach such heights no matter how they tried, and there were indistinct designs along its creases.  She caught glimpses of it between the tents and figures walking about them.  Six points reached toward the heavens like a mountain range, and Twilight could only wonder where trees grew tall enough to support such a frame. “It is quite... magnificent, isn’t it?” Mr. Kite asked. Twilight knew the question was already answered for, so she merely continued gazing. Mr. Kite seemed to have understood, and continued.  “It is called simply, Le Magnifique.  A personal favorite of all my showcases.” Even before it came fully into view, Twilight had already concluded it was indeed magnificent—and twice as imposing.  Its enormity walled off the valley’s bottleneck like some great gate hiding away the unknown. “In here we showcase the most dangerous and exotic acts.”  Mr. Kite’s ever-present smile curled just a little bit further up her face.  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what they were.”  Twilight continued staring, trying not to imagine what could possibly be worse than the claws, the fangs, and the guttural and shrieking things she had witnessed already. They neared the entrance, where Twilight could more readily see that the tent’s greyish color was actually sky blue, and the inner lining of the tent flaps, pinned out and away by tree-sized stakes and ropes so as to beckon her in, had an olive embroidery with a curling design that reminded her of one she had seen in a book about Saddle Arabia. It was bright within, torchlight scouring every inch but the highest reaches of the tent.  Mr. Kite gestured.  “After you.” Twilight complied, her steps light, eyes scrying for any sort of trickery. The grass that had once grown lush was gone, covered over with a layer of dirt and straw.  Cages huddled together like packs of wolves as far as the eye could see, forming crude aisles and partitioning vendors from trainers and their scaly, furry minions.  Some of the cages were occupied, and the things within growled and reached their dangerous limbs out through the bars at excited but nervous passers-by.  One of these ponies seemed unfazed by them, and it took Twilight a second to believe who her eyes saw. “Fluttershy!” she yelled. Fluttershy, of all ponies, was standing beside a cage, peering in at some animal as it prowled back and forth, its matted fur dancing between colors so as to blend in with the bars and shadows.  She gasped at Twilight’s yell, wings clenching to her sides, and whirled about.  Only Fluttershy could be more scared of her own name than being surrounded by a thousand animals animals that all wanted to eat her.  “Oh, Twilight.  It’s you.” Twilight wrapped her in a hug, glad to finally find somepony she knew.  “Fluttershy, what are you doing here?” Fluttershy smiled.  “Oh, I was just looking at all the animals locked up in these scary cages.  Especially this little guy.  He looks so sad.”  The tiger-like beast in the cage beside them made a series of clicks with its tongue and then hissed.   Its breath reeked of rotten meat.  Twilight recoiled at the stench, but something about the beast held her attention, made her stare back through the bars.  It made her feel warm and cold at the same time, both alone and aware that she wasn’t.  Its eyes—piercing yellow—reached out to touch her, begged her to come closer.   She wanted to.  The way its eyes shone like glass in the firelight told her to walk forward for a better view.  An inkling of doubt, a curiosity of her compulsion settled in the front of her mind.  There was something else she should have been doing. “Twilight?” She blinked, shaking herself from the fog clouding her senses.  Fluttershy was staring at her, concerned.  “Are you okay?” The tiger thing snarled and paced back and forth in its cage, eyes locked on her.  There was a sentience within that made her thankful for the bars between them.   It gave a final hiss before slinking away to meld with the shadows.  Though it had disappeared from view, the feeling of being watched remained. “Twilight?” Twilight blinked back to reality, turning to Fluttershy. “Are you al—” “I’m fine.”  She cast a glance over her shoulder at Mr. Kite, who was inspecting a chimera in the cage beside the tiger creature’s.  “Fluttershy, where are the others?  Are they okay?”. “Um, I think—I mean, I hope so.  Why?  Is something wrong?” Twilight didn’t answer, still staring at Mr. Kite, who had turned to grin back at her.  “Yeah, there certainly is.” Fluttershy leaned to follow Twilight’s gaze.  She gasped, blushed, and hid behind her mane, absently rubbing a hoof along the other.  “Oh...” “Fluttershy?” Twilight asked.  “What’s wrong?” “N-nothing.” Twilight fixed her friend with a resolute stare.  “Fluttershy.” Fluttershy squeaked.  Her eyes danced between Kite and the ground.  “T-that’s the pony Rainbow Dash said you were with earlier...” Adrenaline shot through Twilight from head to hoof.  “You saw Rainbow Dash?  When?  Where?  What about the others?” “Well, I saw her over by the pteros cages in the back, and everypony else—” Something metal clanged to the side, and Twilight turned to see Mr. Kite’s hoof against a cage door.  She strode forward, chin raised.  “Are you ready to continue the tour, Twilight Sparkle?  The two of us must be off if we’re to see all that I want to show you.” Twilight stood tall, setting her face with her best glare.  “You mean the three of us.  I’m not going anywhere without Fluttershy.” Mr. Kite gazed back, smiling as if she found the statement humorous.  “My dear Twilight Sparkle... whom might you be speaking of?” A prickle on the neck.  Twilight snapped her head around.  There was nothing but rusty cages and straw littered around her.  “Fluttershy!”  She locked her gaze on Kite, who had already turned about and was heading down the aisle, neck craned so as to peek at her with an eye. “What a shame your friend had to… leave for the moment.  But perhaps we will find her again on our tour, yes?”  There was a twinkle in her eye. Twilight had to restrain herself from leaping with bared teeth.  There were too many circus hands milling about to make anything of it.  And another hostage worsened the situation.  Something about this mare told her she wasn’t afraid to stoop so low as torture.  Or worse. “Is something the matter, Twilight Sparkle?” The innocence in Kite’s voice only boiled the blood in Twilight’s veins.  “Nothing.” Mr. Kite smiled.  “Very well, then.  Come along.” Twilight followed in silence.  Her breath felt short, unable to relax knowing that two of her friends must be tied up and locked away in some dark hole.  The thought clawed at her heart.  Being powerless to protect her friends cut the deepest, and left her with only the hope the others were safe and somehow foiling Kite’s plot. The spaciousness of Le Magnifique seemed to have disappeared, the torchlight throttled by some heavy oppression that now closed in.  It made the shadows seem darker, the growls and hisses of the caged animals harsher.  She looked in at them, wondering if they were part of Mr. Kite’s plan or just the backdrop for a grander show. She followed Mr. Kite to the farthest ring in the tent, where an eerie silence took hold.  There was not a creature in sight.  Empty cages pressed in around them.  Mr. Kite turned to present herself with renewed dignity.  She said nothing. “What?” Twilight asked impatiently. “What do you think?”  Mr. Kite tilted her head ever so slightly, eyes still trained on Twilight, searching. Twilight felt her muscles tense of their own accord, her ears strain for the shadow of a sound creeping up behind her.  “Of what?” “Everything, my dear Twilight Sparkle.”  She swept out a leg to gesture at their surroundings, then swaggered slowly forward.  “What do you think of everything I have shown you?  I am proud to say that almost everything is real.” Twilight paused before answering, sensing the prompt in Mr. Kite’s voice.  Danger exuded from the nearing smile, echoed soundlessly, an inaudible symphony in the silence off dust and cage, a harsh, unending ring that screamed she turn and flee; but doing so spelled certain death.  A brave face and voice was all she could muster.  “‘Almost everything’?” Mr. Kite looked away, demure, for a moment, as if conjuring the strength to admit a terrible fault.  Her tone, however, belied the gesture.  “I’m sure you’re aware much of my collection is… hard to come by, and even I could not manage to obtain some of them.”  She took a step forward, her horn trailing a puff of smoke.  She followed it with her eyes.  “So with a little magic, I simply... created them.  I wanted to know whether or not you noticed.  Am I safe to say you didn’t?” Her eyes traced down to Twilight’s.  “So… what do you think, Twilight Sparkle?” Twilight’s brain hardly processed the question.  It was stuck on ‘created’ animals.  Polymorphs: beings spawned through mashing others together with magic.  Live creatures were needed for such an unspeakable act, and it took all of her willpower to keep her stomach from turning inside out.  “You’re… you’re sick, Kite.” Kite raised a brow.  “What do you mean?” “Stop playing games, Kite,” Twilight spat.  “Where Spike?  Where’s Fluttershy?  Why are you doing all this?” There was a moment of silence between the two as the final question drew satisfaction from the ringmaster in the form of a laugh.  “Why am I doing this?”  Mr. Kite cocked her head to the side.  “Tell me this, Twilight Sparkle: what is the point of a worm?  Something so helplessly oblivious to the world around it?”  She paused for reply, to which Twilight instead glared death.  Kite giggled, and she shifted her head to the other side, raising it and her brows slightly.  “It is to be watched, enjoyed by those who are capable of understanding.  But what is the point of watching it other than to see it squirm?” “Get to the point!” Twilight barked. Mr. Kite giggled that same giggle.  She took another step closer, her bangles jingling about her hoof.  Her eyes seemed bluer, deeper than they had before, swirled like whirlpools in bottomless oceans.  “You are the worm, Twilight Sparkle.”   The hair on Twilight’s nape stood on end.  She leaned away, willing but unable to force her hooves to follow.  They felt as if knee-deep in mud.  The silence was drowned out by a low roar like air rushing through a vent as the grin on Kite’s face became all the more profound.  Twilight tried prying away from her luminous gaze, to check that the mare wasn’t drawing her dagger, to find a voice and cry for help, but she was trapped in those eyes that moved slowly closer.   They drew at her, she could feel—pulled at her like one might tug at a loose string of cloth, the whole of her self unmoving, resisting, but threading apart until she no longer remained.  The magic choked the air between them, pulling, unravelling her.  It wrapped about her horn when she tried calling upon her own, stifling what little glow had formed with an icy chill that clenched her wings in place at her sides.  She could already feel the cold grip of death around her throat as she choked on the buttery sweetness of Mr. Kite’s breath.  I’m sorry, Spike… Fluttershy. She shut her eyes, pulled her head back to the point of snapping, her body quivering as it awaited the blade’s inevitable plunge into her heart.  There was the soft hum of a horn—another spell.   A lush warmth met her lips, and she shot open her eyes to Kite’s embrace.  Heat flashed to her cheeks, and her brain hazed as if drowning in poison.  She jerked her head away, her body following in sudden freedom.  The grip about her wings vanished, and they spread wide, ready to carry her into the highest rafters, legs coiled for launch at the slightest hint of advance, though she could feel the remnant of magic that hung loose between them but tight around her neck, a leash that would pull taught or crush the life from her at the whim of its caster.  Only it kept her from leaping into the darkness above or casting a spell. Mr. Kite smiled, eyes half-lidded.  She spoke barely above a whisper, slow, meticulous, savored.  “Are you afraid of death, Twilight Sparkle?” There were no words for the terror clenching Twilight’s heart, the sudden chill from the ebb of Mr. Kite’s breath on her sweat-dampened skin, the paste that held her tongue to the roof of her mouth, silencing any reply she could have wanted to give.   “You shouldn’t be,” Mr. Kite said.  She reached a hoof up to caress Twilight’s cheek.  It felt like ice as it traced her jaw to her chin, then slowly down her neck and chest.  Twilight couldn’t muster the courage to move, lest a flick of the wrist produced the wicked blade, but her muscles trembled a symphony beneath the touch.   Mr. Kite drank in the fear, and a haunting chuckle wormed its way out of her lips.  She leaned forward to whisper in Twilight’s ear.  “There are far worse things to fear.” She drew back her hoof, and slowly the rest of herself.  The magic dwindled the further Kite stepped, until she at last turned, her eyes no longer locked with Twilight’s, and she vanished beyond the ring of cages. [Author’s Note:  Thanks to RazgrizS57 and Belligerent Sock for their reviews of this chapter.] [Onward and Upward!]