//------------------------------// // Family Matters // Story: Reddux the Tyrant // by PaulAsaran //------------------------------// Reddux the Tyrant Chapter III Family Matters Fine thanked whoever the pony was that came up with carriage enchantments, otherwise this journey would have been much more difficult. Aside from making the wagon feel lighter as he pulled, it also made every regular step go the distance of five, letting him keep up with the black cloud of pegasi in the distance. These benefits were most welcome in the burning desert sun. Even so, Fine wasn’t comfortable. It had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the lack of suitable hiding spots. He felt exposed and vulnerable, and even now he couldn’t believe that the royal procession in the distance hadn’t noticed a lone wagon following behind. Maybe he was just paranoid. Hoofknife certainly would think so, which was one of the reasons he kept his mouth shut. “Hey, Fine.” He closed his eyes and growled. “Yeah?” “What’s a more political way of saying ‘We’re right behind your white hot flank?’” Fine looked back with a bemused frown at Hoofknife, who was sitting in the wagon and peering at a letter he was writing. Two new ones appeared over his head as Fine glared, dropping amongst a steadily growing pile. “You’re joking.” Hoofknife shook his head as he grabbed one of the letters and began reading. “Cut me some slack, I’m busier than a parasprite at a royal banquet.” Fine sighed and turned his head forward, peering unpleasantly at the pegasi cloud. He could just see Celestia in her massive carriage awaiting his boss’s response. “You want it with or without the literary molestation?” “Without.” He closed his eyes and quickly came up with a line. “‘We can confirm visually that we will be arriving at Estéril Pezuñas mere hours after Her Highness.’ You want me to edit your autobiography while I’m at it?” “Not bad.” Hoofknife didn’t seem at all perturbed by his bitterly sarcastic manner. “Sometimes I wish I had you around more often to make me look smarter.” “Doesn’t take much,” Fine grumbled. “What was that?” Fine turned his head to the side and huffed, refusing to look back. “If you think this job’s so easy,” Hoofknife lectured, “I’d like to see you do it.” “No, thank you.” Fine glared at the horizon, his ears lowering and a sinking feeling in his gut. “I’m pissed off enough with where I am, I’d probably be brutal doing your job.” His boss’s tone grew dark. “If you don’t like being an Archon so much, why don’t you just quit?” Fine gritted his teeth and picked up his pace a touch. “I asked you a—” “You know why.” A bitter silence filled the hot air between them. It lasted a long time, and for that Fine was relieved. He would be content to finish the rest of the trip without having to listen to anymore of the bastard’s lecturing. At last the silence was breached. “Fine… I need to know you’re going to give me your all on this.” Fine sighed and forced his anger down. He didn’t blame the pony for his hesitation. In his horseshoes, Fine would have been hesitant, too. He kept his tone as even as he could manage. “You know that I will do the job. It would be improper of me not to. I’m not the kind of stallion to just quit when things start getting uncomfortable… or completely defies his view of the world. You tell me to go spy on dragons, I’ll spy on dragons. I don’t have to be happy to do it.” Mind heavy with bitter thoughts, he kept walking as he waited for Hoofknife to say something. He blinked as he sensed the presence, glancing aside to see the Mane Archon beside him and watching with a concerned frown. The pony had to almost gallop to keep up with Fine’s enchanted hoofsteps. “You should be riding,” Fine said. Hoofknife sighed and shook his head. “Fine, when I recruited you in Saddle Arabia, I knew you could offer the Archons something great.” Fine raised an eyebrow. “You mean I haven’t?” His boss looked away, his eyes low. “You’ve been the perfect Archon in action. I just… I thought maybe the Archons would give you something, too.” “You did,” Fine grumbled. “Fresh meat once every three weeks.” Hoofknife shot him a harsh look. “I was hoping for something more along the lines of fulfillment.” Fine frowned, but his anger faded quickly at his boss’ – no, his mentor’s – expression. His shoulders slumped and he averted his gaze. He suddenly felt… tired. “I’m sorry, Pixie, but I think I’m too far gone for that.” Hoofknife studied him closely, as if trying to solve a deep and complicated puzzle. His tone was soft and sincere. “What’s it like? Never feeling any joy?” Fine closed his eyes and sucked in a slow, calming breath. “Like living in a world of shadows, where no sunlight can ever penetrate.” His mentor considered this answer for a few seconds, then looked out at the cloud of pegasi in the distance. “The sun’s right there. Get close enough and it might break through.” Fine stared at the flying mass of royal guards. If he looked closely, he thought he could make out the sunlight shimmering off their armor. He could only imagine Celestia’s carriage hidden amongst the protective formation. The thought only filled him with that familiar sinking feeling. “I don’t think even she could fix me now.” The harbor city of Estéril Pezuñas stood out like a sore hoof on the brown coastline, its tall castle towers poking at the sky like flagpoles. Against the backdrop of the Surcingle Mountains, the place seemed squat and unimportant. Just as when he’d left the city on his way to the island of Sueño, Fancy gazed at the place and had difficulty thinking of it as a major center of foreign trade. If not for his father’s financial ledger, he’d have thought the whole idea a hoax. Fancy stood at the bow of the caravel, watching the city gradually move closer. It would be no more than a couple hours before they landed. Fancy couldn’t wait; he was eager to know what he would be doing next. With Mirar el Cielo destroyed, he would be needing a new post. Perhaps he’d have to stay at the castle. The border with the Badlands wasn’t but a few days south of Estéril Pezuñas. The dragons were sure to attack the city before long. Captain Oak Feathers appeared at his side, her expression grim. She glowered at the city, her orange wings fluffing in her agitation. “A dump, don’t ya think?” Fancy might have smiled if he weren’t feeling so conflicted. “It’s no Canterlot.” She gave him a concerned frown, brushing her light grey mane aside. “You okay?” He sighed and turned his eyes away from the harbor. “I’ve been better. Did my letter get sent as I requested?” She nodded. “On its way to your parents as we speak.” “Good.” He hesitated, eyes once more lingering over the castle. “I wish I knew where I was going next.” Oak shivered. “After what you went through? They might let you go with an honorable discharge.” Fancy gave her a curious look, working his lips as he considered that possibility. “You don’t seem to happy about that. Looking for revenge?” “I don’t know,” he confessed, leaned against the railing and gazing at the waters below. Dolphins were dancing in the waves before the ship, and he let his eyes follow their playful motions. “Part of me wishes I could pay the dragons back for what they did, but another part is screaming about the possibility of having to face them. I mean, they’re dragons, and I’ve seen what they can do.” Oak set a hoof to his shoulder. “I know you’re a new recruit, Fancy, but believe me when I say nopony expects you to face anymore of this. You’ve already seen more than most soldiers do in their entire lives.” He sighed and closed his eyes, once again seeing the sea of corpses. He lingered on the mental image, letting his stomach churn with the memory. “That may be… but I don’t want to go home without doing something. Even if it isn’t fighting. I can’t just abandon this.” There was silence between them. Fancy wondered if Oak would leave him be. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her around… he just had a lot to think about and not much time to do so. Yet Oak didn’t leave. “What about the girl?” Fancy blinked and gave her a questioning look. “The girl?” A new voice reached their ears. “Yes, the girl. What about the girl?” They turned to find Fleur watching them. Her expression was hard. “I would love to know what I am to do once we reach port.” Fancy and Oak shared uncertain looks, and Fancy took a step towards Fleur. He paused as she backed away. Their eyes locked, and as he gazed into her violet irises he saw something he knew he shouldn’t see in one her age: suspicion. He cleared his throat to buy time to think. “You’re… well… I’m guessing you didn’t have a home in the first place, so…” “I did,” she snapped. “I left it.” Oak stepped forward. “Then… I guess your parents—” “Died years ago.” Fleur turned her face away from them with a scowl. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a home.” Fancy wanted to ask about this, but if he knew anything about teenagers it was that when they didn’t want to talk, they wouldn’t. Sighing, he turned his attention to Oak. “So what are we going to do? I imagine there are some plans.” Oak nodded, though she kept her concerned eyes set on Fleur. “You two are the only ones to survive, the only ones who witnessed what happened back there. A few higher-ups are going to want to question both of you.” Fancy frowned and shook his head. “Not sure how much good we’ll be. It’s not as if we have world-changing information about how to kill dragons.” “It’s just the process,” Oak told him. She rolled her eyes, but Fancy suspected it was more aimed at the ‘higher-ups’ than at him. “How important will they be?” They turned to Fleur, who was watching Oak with wide eyes. Oak shifted and adjusted her uniform. “I don’t follow.” “Will it just be soldiers?” Fleur leaned forward to peer. “Politicians?” “Well, I don’t know.” Oak rubbed the back of her head with a frown. “It could go all the way to the top.” Fancy hesitated. “You mean Sir Deeds?” “I mean Princess Celestia.” Oak noticed how his jaw dropped. “You didn’t know? She’s on her way to Estéril Pezuñas in hopes of negotiating a quick peace.” Fancy swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to stare at the city, abruptly aware that the ship was coming up on the docks. Him, meet Celestia? He’d seen her a few times in the distance, but to be face-to-face with her? He closed his eyes as his heart did a little flip. “What about Daring Deeds?” Fleur pressed. “We… we aren’t really going to have to see him, are we?” “It’s entirely possible,” Oak said. “As the only dragonslayer in Equestria, he’s bound to want some direct info.” A lingering pause. “Fleur?” Fancy turned around to see that Fleur had her head and ears low. Her jaw was set against her shuddering breath and her eyes shifted frantically. Leaning towards her, Fancy asked, “Fleur? Are you okay?” She jerked her head up, staring at him and Oak as if she’d just remembered they were there. She exhaled a long breath before turning away. “I’m fine… I just… I just need to lie down.” She left them alone, her head low and her tail tucked. Fancy gave Oak a wide-eyed glance. “What do you think that was about?” “Who knows?” Oak turned to walk away. “I could never read kids. Maybe she was excited?” There were many words Fancy might have used for Fleur’s behavior. ‘Excited’ certainly wasn’t one of them. ‘Fear’ came to mind. Fancy and Fleur walked side-by-side, escorted by a half dozen guards. The castle of Estéril Pezuñas loomed over their heads, the main gates closing behind. It seemed Sir Deeds was eager to greet the survivors of the ‘Slaughter of Sueño,’ as the event was fast becoming known. Fancy had enough time to acquire a new, proper officer’s uniform before he and Fleur had been whisked away from the ship. Fancy wasn’t too burdened by the coming meeting. Daring Deeds was a knighted hero, true, but a Canterlot native was no stranger to meeting high-ranking ponies. No, he was more anxious about having the chance to meet Celestia, assuming such came to pass. She wasn’t even in the city yet, and he was already fighting butterflies. A cursory glance at Fleur, however, revealed that she was far less comfortable with this situation. Though she held her head high, there was an unmistakable trembling in her lower lip and her breathing was strained. Fancy was left with the impression that, were it not for the guards escorting them, she might have bolted at the first opportunity. He was almost desperate to ask her what was wrong, but his few attempts at catching her attention were ignored. The castle had a worn look to it, the tapestries faded and the stones cracked in places. The halls were narrow considering the structure’s size, though three ponies could easily walk side-by-side within them. Fleur flinched away as she and Fancy were forced to move a little closer together. Every time she did that he couldn’t help wondering why. They moved through a wing of the castle that had clearly not been used in some time; moss grew on the stones and grass was actually growing through the floor in some places. The decorative armor lining the larger halls had a thick layer of dust. Servants were scurrying about and cleaning as much as they could, though it was clearly a challenge. At last they came upon a wide room several stories up. It appeared to be a war room, complete with decorative weaponry, paintings of old Equestrian generals and, set at the very center, a massive map of Equestria and the Badlands. The entire room was lit by the sunlight from a tall, wide balcony window that had been left open. At the table were gathered four ponies, who were examining the map with ominous expressions. One of them, a light red stallion of considerable size and a similarly-colored mane, turned to peer at the visitors. He had a long, thick scar running across his shoulder and down his chest and one of his ears was half-missing. He bore a golden necklace, from which hung a amulet that featured a dragon’s claw. “Sir Deeds,” the captain of the guards announced, “these are the survivors of the Slaughter of Sueño.” Daring Deeds stepped forward, his hard eyes set to Fancy’s. Fancy met it with solemn patience, keeping his expression as neutral as he could. He had to admit, that scar and the muscles certainly made the stallion intimidating. A few seconds passed before Daring Deeds turned his eye on Fleur. He blinked and his expression softened. “Fleur?” Fleur kept her head raised and her eyes hard. “Hello, uncle.” Fancy’s head whipped towards her, his jaw dropping. “Fleur,” Sir Deeds whispered, taking a few steps closer. “I… I thought you were dead.” Fleur took a step back, her eyelids lowering. Even so, she maintained her calm voice. “Not yet, despite everything.” Sir Deeds frowned. “What were you doing in Su—no, no it’s not important.” He attempted a recovering smile. “The important thing is that you’re alive, my pretty little niece. It’s… good to see you.” Fleur pursed her lips and didn’t answer. After a few seconds of staring at her, Sir Deeds finally turned his attention to Fancy, who promptly regained his soldier’s stance. “And what is your name, officer?” Fancy kept his voice firm. “Sir, I am First Lieutenant Fancy Pants from Canterlot.” He bowed his head politely. Sir Deeds returned the motion. “Welcome, Fancy Pants. I am sorry that we are meeting under circumstances such as these. You are welcome as a guest in my castle, so please feel at home. You may consider yourself on leave for the time being; Celestia knows you deserve it.” “My thanks, Lord.” Nopony grew up in Canterlot without knowing how to keep a straight face, and Fancy did an exemplary job of maintaining one. In his head, though, his mind was running away with him. He hoped, dearly, that this period of being ‘on leave’ wouldn’t last long. Sir Deeds waved to the officers behind him. “My advisers will want to question you both about what happened. Do not worry, we won’t begin immediately. You’ll have a night to rest and recoup from your ordeal. We expect Princess Celestia to arrive sometime tomorrow morning. I am confident she’ll want to be there for the questioning.” Fancy hesitated, but only for an instant. “I understand.” An eyebrow rose and Sir Deeds smiled. “Never met the princess, have you?” “No, sir.” Sir Deeds’ smile widened. “Well don’t you worry, she only turns half the ponies she meets to dust, and under the circumstances you’ve probably got better odds than that.” Fancy frowned at the attempt at a joke; what in Equestria made him think he was actually afraid of the princess? He was nervous, true, but Fancy knew Celestia wasn’t that kind of leader. The Lord of Estéril Pezuñas chuckled as if he’d delivered some fine wit before waving at the door. “For now, why don’t you both rest? I’m going to be very busy over the next few days and there’s just no time for idle chit-chat.” “Uncle.” He glanced at Fleur, whose ears lowered at the attention. She averted her eyes in Fancy’s direction and took a small step closer to him. “If it’s alright… I would prefer a room next to his. He did save my life and… and…” Sir Deeds considered her solemnly for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between her and Fancy every now and then. “I understand. He makes you feel safer, doesn’t he?” Fleur bowed her head and gave no answer. Fancy studied her, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. “Very well.” Sir Deeds nodded, but his voice was firm. “Under the circumstances, if it’s that important to you. But do not think we won’t be talking about… things, Fleur.” She kept her eyes on her hooves as she nodded. “These are your rooms.” Fancy glanced at the large doors, one opposite the other. The servant opened the one on the right and gestured to him, so he took a look. It wasn’t as large as his room in Canterlot, but by what he’d seen of Estéril Pezuñas so far, Fancy imagined this to be quite a luxurious bedroom. A trio of small windows permitted light to enter, highlighting a large canopy bed, bookshelves and a reading table. A thick rug covered most of the floor. It was far better than what he’d had in Mirar el Cielo. “If there is anything we can get you, don’t hesitate to call for a servant.” Fancy turned and nodded to the mare. He saw Fleur examining her own room and peered at her. “This will do nicely,” he said, offering the servant a small smile that, for reasons he couldn’t comprehend, earned him a blush. “If it’s quite all right, I’d like to have lunch soon. I’ve not had much to eat since…” His lips faltered and he averted his eyes, not wanting to think on such things. “It will be done.” The mare turned to leave, but stopped. “…sir?” Fancy turned to her. “Yes?” After a few seconds of hesitation, she turned back to him. Her ears lowered as she asked, “Are they… are they coming here? To Estéril Pezuñas?” He observed the way she chewed her lip and the uncertainty in her eyes. He wanted to tell her ‘no’ to ease her fears… but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “I can say with full honesty that I don’t know… but I think it’s likely.” “I see…” She sagged a touch, her eyes glazing over in anxious thought. “Thank you, sir. You’re lunch will arrive soon.” He watched her walk away, his chest tight. If only he had more answers… Fancy turned to find Fleur’s door already closed. He glanced about to see if there was anypony nearby before stepping up to the door and knocking. “Fleur? It’s me.” Her muffled voice answered, “Not now, Fancy.” “I won’t keep you,” he called. “I just wanted to know… why. Why did you want a room next to my own?” “I already explained that.” Fancy’s frown deepened. “What you told your uncle was a lie.” He heard the latch click. The door opened just a crack and Fleur brought her head out… but only just enough so that he could see her face. Her eyes were low and she wouldn’t look at him. “You… you could tell?” He nodded. “It has nothing to do with the dragons, does it?” Fleur chewed her lip, still refusing to meet his gaze. “That’s just a part of it.” He leaned forward a little to scrutinize her, but he could get nothing from her expression. “What’s the other part?” Her eyes shifted to him, though they kept low. “Fancy… I…” She took a moment to suck in a deep breath. “If I were to ask if you are a good stallion, what would you tell me?” He blinked and stood up straight. “Well, I… I’d tell you that I try to be.” “And how could I trust you?” There was no accusation in her tone, but he still leaned back. “How?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.” She closed her eyes and took another calming breath. “I don’t trust you, Fancy. I can’t. But you’ve already saved my life once. That’s… something. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay nearby.” He tilted his head, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Did she feel threatened in some way? Still, he wasn’t about to refuse such a request; what kind of stallion would he be? “That’s fine.” She nodded. “Good. Thank you.” She worked her lips and hesitated. “Will that be all?” Fancy examined her, leaning over a little in hopes of attracting her eyes. She simply would not look directly at him. “There’s one more thing.” She shifted. “Y-yes?” He took a step closer, and her eyes widened just a touch. Did her breathing just get a little faster? He leaned forward, looking her right in the eye. Still she wouldn’t look back. “I know we only just met,” he said at last, “and it’s entirely possible that we’ll be separated within a couple days and never see one another again. Even so… what do I have to do to earn your trust?” She closed her eyes, her lips trembling. “Fleur?” At last she looked at him. Her pupils had contracted just a touch, but there was also a hint of something else, a distinct imploring nature to her expression. “Do not leave me alone with my uncle. Ever.” The door closed. Fancy could only stare.