"Oh, hello there. Back already?"
Ryan took in a breath and let it the exhale slide out. She would need it. She turned around to meet the draconequus. "Yeah... Hey."
Discord raised an eyebrow, stroking his goatee while he watched her in amusement. He said nothing further.
"Um..." Ryan tried to start. The draconequus cocked his head. "...Hey?"
Discord grinned, finally breaking his demeanor. "Are you trying to offer me hay? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not fan, despite what my vaguely-horsey would tell you."
Ryan blinked. Well, at least he didn't seem angry with her because of earlier. "No. Just saying hi..."
Discord grinned madly as he broke into a silent fit of laughter. "You are so hilarious and you don't even try! Tell me how you do it!"
"Um..."
"Ah, forget it," he said, calming down, "So what is it that you want from me?"
Ryan looked up at him, her eyes narrowing. "What makes you think I want something?" she defended, even if that was actually the truth, "Maybe I just want to talk to you."
Discord rolled his eyes. Making an embroidered, pink teapot materialize next to him in midair, he poured himself a drink. "Please. You sound like me, and that's not a compliment. You've made it quite clear you don't like me despite my sheer friendliness to you."
Ryan resisted the urge to make a snide remark. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, she told herself. "Fine," she said, "I do actually need some help... Things have happened."
Discord sipped is drink. "Mmhm. Things happen all the time. Want some tea?" Not waiting for an answer, a cup appeared in Ryan's hand.
She looked at the beverage, a sense of impatience welling up inside her. I'm in the middle of a crisis and he's offering tea, she thought. She exhaled once again, slowly and forcibly calm. "No thanks," she said flatly, "Listen, I'd bet everything you already know what's happened so I'm just going to ask—"
"Hold the show," he exclaimed, extending his paw out in front of him, "If you made that bet, you'd lose everything! I have no idea what's going on."
Ryan looked at him in disbelief, her mouth agape. "Seriously?" she questioned, "You've been documenting my life like a stalker the past week and only now you don't know?"
"Pretty much," he shrugged, "I was in the bath, remember? It was very pleasant."
She sighed. Nothing is easy with him, nothing was easy, and it certainly seemed nothing would ever be easy. "Okay... Want to hear?"
He smirked, his lip curling up with a mischievious page. "Not really."
"What?" she answered with a question, "But, but..."
"Is that what you're selling now?" he teased, "Sorry, but I think I'll take your story instead. Speak away," he said with a wave of his paw.
Ryan opened her mouth then promptly closed it. She shook her head, her dark blonde hair flowing loosely around her. "Alright... Well, I met Celestia today..." She regaled the draconequus with her story of what had happened. Ryan resisted the emotional rise in her as she recounted, forcing her energy into telling rather than dropping into crying or ranting or some odd mix of the two. She decided to leave out the part where she left her friends. To his credit, he had actually stayed politely quiet during the tale, only listening with an unreadable expression of interest.
At the end, both stayed silent for a minute, one taking it in and the other awkwardly awaiting the verdict, whatever that would mean. She did sip her tea a few times. Finally, Discord spoke. "I see," he said thoughtfully, "You want something and old sunbutt's getting in the way as usual. Trust me, I know how that feels." He nodded while looking off-wards, as if remembering past memories.
"You don't know this feels," Ryan burst before she could help herself, "Have you had your life ripped away from you?"
Discord slowly looked down at the glaring other, darning an expression of disinterest. "Yes," he said calmly, "I have. In fact, it was also at the hooves of Celestia. She used me as a lawn ornament for a millennia or so."
Ryan blinked. Words from Fluttershy suddenly came back to her about Discord's sketchy past. The sheer absurdity of it had created an effect of disbelief, along with a number of the other things she'd heard. Of course, only know did she realize how serious her friend had been. Discord really had been set in stone for centuries. "Oh... sorry..." she tried.
Discord smirked once again. "There you go again with apologizing. But if it's any consolation, I don't have hard feelings about the time. I met a lot of nice bird friends. Until they left me presents, that is."
"Oh... Alright. So..."
"You want me to help you," he finished.
"Yeah," she answered.
Discord grinned, giving a few chuckles to himself. He cracked his knuckled. "This is too good. Tell me, what's your plan? I want to hear this."
Ryan opened her mouth but had no words. "Um..."
Discord's eyes widened. His paw shot up to his mouth in vain attempt to hold in laughter. "You don't even have a plan!" he howled, "What are you going to do? Walk in and ask politely? Ha!"
"Hey," she defended, her words coming out much weaker than she would've liked, "I... I don't know... I was hoping you could just help me."
"Ah, that's the plan, isn't it," he said derisively, "Get the all-powerful chaos god to take care of it."
"Well," she said, before cutting herself off. She looked down at her feet. That really was just her plan, wasn't it? Hope the draconequus had one free ticket to ride. "Yes," she admitted, defeated in tone and confidence, "It is."
"That's right," he commented, "Let me take the fall for your crime."
Ryan's eyes widened. "No, that's not what I mean. Can't you just open and close the gate or something. You said you could do anything with chaos."
"Now, I'm flattered you would think of me so powerful," he lead, "But I'm not a miracle worker. I have no idea of what that gate is or is powered by. I could make it explode, for all I know." He looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging.
"But isn't there something you can do?" Ryan asked, her voice rising.
"Why, yes there is," he said, "There's a boatload of things I can do. But they all require me to take the fall for you. And I don't feel too inclined to do such a thing."
Ryan's heart sank. Everything hinged on the draconequus, but not once had she considered a refusal. How could she not have? she chided herself, Why would he ever want to help me? She let out a shuddering breath, much less controlled than earlier. There had to be something! "Please," she pleaded, "Discord." He looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. "I'm stuck here, and all I want to do is go home. To my family. You said you weren't heartless so please just tell me you can do something. I don't care if it's as small as sending me to the Crystal Empire, just please." She looked away before the bubble of emotions could burst open.
"The tough-girl persona finally comes off," Discord muttered to himself, inaudible to the other. He set down on his feet in front of her, drawing her attention. "That is very touching," he said, "But I'm failing to see a reason other than the warm feelings that I don't get from helping others."
Ryan stared up at him, quivering eyes wide. She opened her mouth but Discord cut her off.
"However," he announced, "I will consider helping you. On one condition."
"What is it?" she immediately asked.
He regarded her, dropping his demeanor into a rare, serious one.
"Answer me this: Are you really sorry?"
Ryan stared back, her surprise freezing her.
The Goddess of the Sun looked up from her perch and parchment, noticing her former student’s appearance for the first time. Her gaze redirected to her paperwork once more before she set them down, the light gold glow of her magic fading off without a trace remaining. She looked up to Twilight again, this time keeping her eye contact.
“Hello, Twilight,” Celestia said, her tone even as she looked down with an almost unreadable expression; it only betrayed disinterested expectation, “I didn’t notice you come in.”
“Yes, I just got here, Princess,” she replied, attempting to match the other alicorn’s professional tone. She took a glance down at the stone floor at her hooves for a brief moment but brought it back up just as soon. “Can we talk?”
“Of course. We can talk about anything.”
“Including Ryan?”
“Yes, Twilight,” she answered without hesitation, “To be honest, I had a feeling you were going to arrive.”
Twilight’s eyes widened a fraction. “You did?”
“Yes. Knowing you, you would have questions about earlier.”
“You could say that…” the lavender mare said under her breath, “I’m just… confused on a few things.”
Celestia nodded for her to continue.
“Well, the gate’s closed like you said. Is that all there is to it? She’s just stuck here?”
“It would appear so,” she said, her demeanor unchanged, “Though, I would hope not. You said Discord was looking into what brought her here?”
“Yes,” she affirmed, “But he says not to count on it as a way to get her back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Twilight looked up at the solar alicorn with a newfound confliction. She wouldn’t say it, but her eyes asked the question of “why?” Seeing her former teacher up on her pedestal induced a sense of smallness to Twilight as if she was just another common pony daring to climb the castle steps to meet the great ruler of the nation in hopes of fulfilling a request of their own, whether it be as simple as filing opinion or much more complicated. Twilight’s request would’ve been much further to the latter. Was this how they felt when addressing the Princess? So small and helpless yet having to muster the courage that had driven them so far already? Twilight couldn’t know, at least, until now. She’d grown with the Princess almost as a second mother figure to her—often she acted as one—so Twilight had always been comfortable to an extent around her, excluding her usual sense of anxiousness she’d already acknowledged. Only now did she start to comprehend just what it meant to be nopony addressing somepony.
As silence took hold of their undeclared staring contest, Twilight beat it back. “Princess? Not that I’m accusing you or anything, but how are you so casual about this? This is big, isn’t it?”
Celestia regarded her for a moment then sighed as she broke not only eye contact, but her unshaking demeanor as well. Looking at the walls that were decorated much like an embroidery, telling tales of old and glory, she spoke, “Forgive me, Twilight. I know I must seem… uncaring,”
Twilight realized she was waiting for a response and nodded a moment too late, though, hesitant. Even if the Princess agreed with it, criticism was a nervous center to her and almost every other pony in Equestria.
“I’ve been ruling for millennia,” she began, a distant bearing glazing her eyes as she reminisced, “I’ve seen a wide multitude of occurrences, some for better, some not. You can say I’ve become desensitized to much of the things that can be thrown at me. However, I agree my actions earlier weren’t the best. I was much too blunt.” She ended simply.
You agree? Twilight resisted from saying aloud, I never said it was wrong—which it probably was, but that’s beside the point. To be honest with herself, Twilight felt no better than when she’d come in. She felt even more conflicted in some ways. What had she expected going in? Some rational reasoning that explained her Princess’ behavior that suddenly made everything make sense? Yes, some parts of her admitted, that’s exactly what she expected. Or rather, hoped for, at the least. Instead, she’d received what felt like an excuse, not a reason, an excuse. The difference between the two was simple: one explained and the other dismissed.
But Twilight wasn’t content to leave it at that.
“But, you do care, right?” Twilight asked the quiet atmosphere, her louder tone creating a small echo that bounced around the emptied room for a moment. It was as if the question had been asked multiple times to the white-coated alicorn.
“Of course!” Celestia quickly amended, her eyes widening, “I would never be so cold-hearted to anypony. You know that, don’t you, Twilight?”
“Oh, yes, I know!” she reacted just as strongly, “I just… You told her that whole story then suddenly ended by saying no, she can’t go.” she trailed off at her old teacher’s look. It spoke of understanding to Twilight, she knew, for it was a look she’d seen so many times before under her tutelage. On any other day she would have smiled in return. She often received it when being taught a lesson she was taking longer to understand. Today, however, wasn’t any other day.
Celestia nodded, saying afterwards, “I’m aware it may have made things worse, but I felt telling her the whole story was necessary.”
“How so?”
She obliged an answer. “If I had simply told her ‘no, you can’t go back,’ she would have never been satisfied, based on what I've heard she was like. She would want a full explanation, and without one, she would always cling to the idea of finding a way home. The other option would have been to directly lie to her face and say I didn’t know of a way.”
Twilight looked at her, a curious frown adorning her features as she unconsciously raised her hoof off the ground a small bit. “You sound like you planned this out.”
“I did,” she replied simply, “The last thing I wanted to do was give her the burden of false hope.”
“By taking away all her hope.”
Celestia threw a hardened yet not-offended gaze her way. “Twilight…” she drew. If anything, there was a hint of disappointment, of all things.
“Sorry, Princess,” Twilight said, bringing her gaze downward, “But, that’s basically just what you said.”
“Twilight, my intention is to help her not harm her. I’m not just leaving her here and telling her to find her own way. I plan to fully support her with whatever aid she’ll need in adapting to staying here, whether it be emotional, financial, or otherwise.”
She’s deflecting, the analytical part of Twilight’s mind noted, She’s drawing attention to a positive to hide a negative.
Shut up, the polite part of Twilight’s mind hissed back.
“There… just has to be something,” Twilight said, “It can’t be so simple that there’s nothing that can be done.”
“I just looked someone in the eye and told them they’d never see their family again,” Celestia said, her words solemn and quiet as she looked down with aged eyes, “Believe me, if there was another way, I would’ve said so.”
Twilight returned her own sympathetic gaze. That was a closing argument, she knew, and there was no getting around it. Seeing her Princess’ hints of sorrow that her face narrowly betrayed emotion. Now she realized fully that the princess was right; it was that simple. There were no other ways back.
But what about the single, one way back they already had?
“Is it really that bad?” Twilight asked.
Celestia cocked her head to the side, lowering an eyebrow inquisitively. “Is what that bad?”
“What you’ve heard from them. The humans. Is it really that bad that you can’t keep the gate open for a few years?”
Celestia broke her eye contact as she recalled, her eyes meeting the upper corner of her field of view. She didn’t look particularly thoughtful. She already knew her answer. Instead, she merely thought of how to phrase her words into what would be best for the younger alicorn. Twilight hadn’t been there during any of the encounters "Although I admit it is unlikely that there truly is something on the other side waiting to come in, the risk only increases the longer it is open. Nothing comes before the safety of my subjects."
Twilight nodded. She'd heard that before. A multitude of times, in fact. In the young Twilight's inquiries into Celestia's leadership, that simple phrase would always show up, often as the conclusion to an eager lecture. Now, however, she saw it in a different light. This wasn't the noble creed that the Princess would follow in her wisdom, decreeing her undying care for each and every inhabitant of her kingdom. This was an unwavering law. She saw its darker side; Celestia would protect her subjects, but what would become of those who did the endangering? Ryan, Twilight answered, That's what would happen. "I know," Twilight said, "But that's not exactly what I meant. I meant are humans as a race that bad? Sure, there are bad ones as you've told us, but there must be those who are like us."
"Maybe..." She went silent for a moment. "But that does not eliminate the risk."
"Can't we do something about the gateway? Like, set up a guard post?"
Celestia shook her head, drawing an addled look. "Had this been two hundred years ago, maybe. Now, it's not clear if that would be sufficient." At seeing the younger princess's curious gaze, she continued, "The story I told earlier about the noble took place over two-hundred years ago. That means they've been given centuries to advance. I don't know what their capabilities are." She paused to look at Twilight. "And to your next question, no, our own advances would not cancel each other out. From the stories, I learned how quickly they would innovate. The legion that came through were armed with small cannons that could be held in their hands while we were barely exploring such armaments beyond the simple, full-sized design."
Twilight nodded slowly, keeping her eye contact. "So basically, it all comes down to the unknowns." It wasn't a question. Celestia nodded in turn. Twilight knew the Princess was right. She'd already known that. The Princess would never let her sujects come to harm so carelessly. What she wasn't clear about was whether that decision was absolute, and now with all this information, she still didn't have a definite answer. Unknowns irked Twilight; they always had. A lack of knowledge was a crime of the utmost degree in her analytical mind. There was never a benefit to them other than providing a motivation to get rid of one. A self-destructive benefit, it was. To hear that her own friend was being denied everything she loved to such an evil was, understandably, intolerable. However, if one thing was definite, it was that they did have a way of finding answers. "Princess?" she began, "We do have a source of answers. Ryan can tell us about her own world. She already did tell me a bit about how far they've advanced. She estimated a century or so."
"True," Celestia agreed, "However, I believe her word now would be... dubious."
Twilight's hoof rose in a slight recoil as she said, "You think she would lie?"
"If it meant going home, I believe she would do anything she considered necessary."
Twilight closed her slightly agape mouth and set her hoof back down. ...That's probably true, she admitted, hating herself for thinking so lowly of her friend. She questioned if she would do any better in a similar position but didn't let her thought go on. "Why didn't you ask her before talking about the gate, then?" she questioned, "She would've been more willing, so to speak."
"Because, Twilight, she would've grown suspicious if I questioned her on her species' advancements. Then she might not tell the truth if she suspected it would've prevented her departure."
She really did plan everything out, Twilight thought.
Celestia continued, "And leading her on into revealing anything unintentionally would've been downright devious."
Yet you've hidden history from us, Twilight's analytical mind commented.
"Twilight..." Celestia lamented, her tone once again sounding disappointed, "You know it's not as simple as that."
Twilight's eyes expanded to saucers. She'd said that aloud! Curse her analytical mind. Curse it to Tartarus! She looked fearfully up at her ruler. Even if their rank was technically equal, more or less, she could never see it that way. Princess Celestia would always be her kind and caring leader. And now she had just sassed her kind and caring leader. "Sorry! Sorry!" Twilight blurted, her thought scrambling until thoroughly scrambled, "I didn't mean it. It just came out on accident, I swear! Please don't send me to the moon..."
Celestia looked down at her former student. She hadn't seen Twilight grovel in such a manner in well over a few years. To say the least, she never liked it. It was always a reminder of how much influence she had, even over someone as close as her own student. She held back a sigh.
Twilight watched, anxiousness dropping through her like a stone, as Celestia got up from her seat above and stepped down to floor level, going around her stand. The Princess stepped forward to Twilight, who's eyes darted back and forth from her to everywhere else. Celestia felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her student so humbled. She'd faced down the greatest threats to Equestria with unwavering courage yet she couldn't face her own teacher? Was she just the worst of all that Twilight had faced? She pushed the thoughts aside. She knew they were wrong, misleading, but she couldn't bear the thought.
Twilight gave a small start as she felt Celestia's wing drape around her. Looking up at Celestia, she was caught off guard by her former mentor's light magenta eyes peering back. She said nothing, only speaking her gaze. In those eyes, Twilight saw that this wasn't the calculating ruler she'd been talking to but the kind pony that she'd been taught, guided, and almost raised by. This was Celestia, not Princess Celestia.
Finally, she talked, her voice whispery in softness: "Twilight, I'm sorry about what's happened and that I've lied to you. But I cannot allow my subjects to come into harm. I understand if you disagree, and I don't blame you if you think less of me for this, but my decision will remain unchanged. I'm sorry."
The smaller alicorn's thoughts froze to a crawl. She thought, The Princess... Celestia is actually apologizing to me? But I'm the one in the wrong... As if sensing her thoughts, Celestia gave a small, warm smile. That was all she needed. Twilight weakly but surely returned the smile and the embrace. "It's alright," Twilight said simply, her voice quieter than the silence around them, "Just... I feel so bad for Ryan. To imagine if I were in her position..." Twilight felt the wing around her stiffen. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, she looked back up to Celestia. She looked back, unchanged in her caring demeanor. The wing subtly loosened to the warm embrace once again. Twilight almost questioned it but gave it no more heed. For now. "I just care for my friend," she continued, "and I want her to be okay. I'm not going to give up, though. With your permission, I'd like to start research on the gate. If there's a way to open it to our liking, I'm going to find it."
Celestia smiled sincerely. "I would think no less of the one who learned so much about friendship. Permission fully granted."
"Thank you, ...Celestia." She cringed momentarily at the lack of title, but Celestia nodded. Breaking the embrace, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Twilight said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to Ponyville. I plan to start tomorrow."
"Very well, Twilight," Celestia agreed, "I bid you farewell."
"Goodbye," she returned. Holding the welcoming gaze a moment longer, she turned, taking a merry time as she walked down the hall, feeling quite much better than the trip in.
"Oh, Twilight?" Celestia called suddenly. She turned her head back. "If you ever need anything," Celestia said, "I'm always here."
Twilight paused, mouth slightly opening, but recovered with a smile. "Thank you." With a nod, she left through the chamber doors, leaving Celestia to herself once more.
The solar alicorn watched for a time before throwing her sight elsewhere. Her thoughts were oddly blank, but she knew enough to return to her stand. She still had plenty of paperwork to go through for the night. As she shuffled through her papers, her returning state of mind was shuffling through memories. They were warm and pleasant, contrasting greatly to the stuffy atmosphere of the room. Of course, they could only—
"Sister?"
Celestia looked up, honestly startled by the suddenness. Looking to the sound, she saw her sister, Luna, coming in through the side door close to her stand. "Luna? What..." she trailed off at seeing her sister's face. Luna was thoroughly unamused, close to miffed. Celestia stared for a moment with wider eyes before breaking her gaze, looking elsewhere. "I take it you heard all that?"
Luna nodded. She wasn't in a pleasant mood.
Ryan stared up at the draconequus.
"Well?" he asked impatiently, folding his arms, "What's your answer?"
Ryan forced herself to react. Blankly staring would do no good. "Yes," she said, mustering the most confident tone she could, "I am sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, much less accused you of, as you put it, tearing someone away from their family. It was completely wrong of me, and I'm sorry."
Discord kept a straight face as he cocked his head to the side.
The woman gulped.
"No..." he said quietly, letting his tone rise, "No you're not. You're only apologizing because I have something you want. You're not sorry."
"No!" Ryan scrambled, "I am. I—"
Discord cut her off. "And that wasn't even what I was asking. I meant are you really sorry about everything. Are you sorry for being rude and judgmental? For letting your anger dominate your actions? For snapping at dear Fluttershy?"
Ryan recoiled at the last one. How could he suggest she wasn't sorry to Fluttershy? "Of course I'm sorry," she retorted, "To Fluttershy especially."
"I'll give you that," he relented, "But why are you sorry, then? Is it because you truly wanted her forgiveness or was it because you needed her help?"
"I—" she tried but failed. To her distress, the answer didn't come as soon as she hoped. She found herself doubting herself. Was that really why she apologized? she asked herself. She couldn't say no with certainty now that the seed of doubt had been planted in her.
"Well," Discord said, "Considering why you apologized to me, I think we have an answer." He snapped his claw, a fair hat appearing atop his head. He tipped it as he said, "Ta ta, Ryan. I wish you the best of luck."
"Wait!" she wailed, "Don't go! Please. I am sorry, I swear." She hung her head. "If you don't help me I'll be stuck in a land full of things I fear forever. I'll never see my home or my family again. I won't be able to stay with Fluttershy forever, but I'll also never be able to simply adapt to living here." Tears ran freely by this point, but she didn't care. "How would I settle down, much less get a job? I'm a two-legged freak compared to everyone else. And when I die one day, it'll just be that. I'm gone. No one aside from my few friends would care. So, please, believe me when I say I'm sorry. I just want to go home." She held her head in her hand, trying to muffle her soft weeping.
Discord looked down upon the broken woman as she, in turn, watched the dirt at her feet. What's this? he thought, Her fifth mental breakdown? For someone who takes so much pride in themselves, she sure tips over easily. He put a paw to his chin as a small smirk ran across his face. He held back a laugh to himself.
"Alright," he said.
"Huh?" she answered weakly, barely meeting his gaze.
"I'll help you."
Ryan's eyes widened. "You will?!" she exclaimed, "Really?"
"I just said I would, didn't I?" He pat Ryan's head. "In fact, I'll do everything I can to help you. Do what I say, and you'll be back home before the end of the night."
She gave a small laugh of stressed relief. Bitter tears contrasted her widening smile. "Thanks you!" she praised but then added, "But... why the sudden change of heart? Not that I'm ungrateful, but you seemed so certain to leave me here."
Discord gave her a warm smile. "Now, Ryan, what you should be asking is: Does it matter? I just offered to send you home. Consider your sob story warming my icy heart."
Ryan nodded under his gaze. For a moment, all she could do was bask in the feeling of triumph.
"Okay," she said, "Where do we start?"