//------------------------------// // A Sketched Stallion // Story: Celestia's Prophet // by Aegis Shield //------------------------------// Celestia’s Prophet Part 3: A Sketched Stallion The creature lay flopped on her back, head on her cot pillow. She had no shortage of pillows, all different colors—but the ponies had been unable to fit a bed down in her cell. Why they couldn’t build one or shrink one for a short time was a bit beyond her, but it was certainly better than nothing. She studied the nearest wall, now dotted with pictures of Armor Heart and Flower Power. They were quite good, really. She had an excellent talent for drawing ponies— even ones she’d not met before. She sort of wished she had a clock, but to be honest one’s perception of time was quite different when one was a prisoner. Oh she could probably break out, sure, but then what? Have Celestia panic the entire city and send guards every which way looking for her escaped monster? Suppose somepony’s parents didn’t meet when they were supposed to, hiding in their own homes from the creature on the loose? Suppose a pegasus stopped pushing a cloud someplace when spotting her and a crop failed? The butterfly effects that might happen because of her were terrifying. Having been there as long as she had, even under Celestia’s watchful eye, she’d been as careful as she could not to interrupt the grand scheme of things. Certain things were supposed to happen at certain times, in certain points of history. If they didn’t, or didn’t happen correctly, suppose this world’s entire fate were catastrophically messed up because of her? The thought made the monster ill, and she rolled on her side to contain the vertigo welling up inside her. They were so innocent. All of them, so innocent. Even mighty Celestia, in her own way. Why, just the other day she’d—! She heard the section of wall moving. Another playmate? So soon? Celestia was certainly being kind. The news of her sister’s imminent return must’ve put her in a festive mood. Sitting up and draping her tender bare feet onto the floor, the creature stood. “Hullo?” she called. “H-hullo?” it was a rather frightened sounding voice. Female, light and flighty. Certainly not a soldier this time around. “M-monster? Are you in there?” there was a pink Pegasus standing in the control area, peering into the much darker cell anxiously. “I really wish Celestia would spread my name about. Or even tell it to the ponies she sends to see me,” it was tall, way taller than the poor Pegasus was ready for. At least twice her height! “Er, I’m Butter Pecan,” the winged pony blurted. “I’m supposed to… uhm… play with you? I guess?” She jittered back a little when the slender, red-maned creature finally came into the light. It was naked of fur, the poor thing, but those eyes! She’d never seen such sharp and focused little eyes! They weren't beady, just… bright. Bright and alert and very intelligent-looking. “Is that so?” it crossed the room in a couple of slow strides. “Are you military? I don’t imagine so, with a name like that. Sounds more civilian-like.” It sat at the little chair, too little for its comfort, taking in the new comer. “W-well, I cater at the palace,” the Pegasus confessed. “Whenever there’s a formal meeting, or gathering, or gala, I get put in charge.” She tried to smile, but the unsettling creature was already smirking at her rather widely. “What?” “The gala is gonna suck for you,” it said rudely, shaking its head with the same grin. “All those animals…” “What?” “Nothing, nothing… so! I don’t imagine they’d have an endless supply of soldiers to send my way, I guess they’d switch to regular palace staff at some point… what do you like to play, Butter Pecan?” The creature put its rather large hands on the table. The long, slender fingers had rather short nails and dainty, weak-looking wrists. The creature may have been large, but it certainly didn’t look very strong. “Oh uhm… I’m just supposed to do as you ask, within reason,” the mare said, cocking her head nervously. “Wh-what games do monsters like to play?” “I’m not a monster you know,” it said sharply. “I have a name. I have a home. And a family—” she trailed off very suddenly, a moistening in her eyes. She crushed the overwhelming sadness before it reared its head to destroy her. She’d suffered days, sometimes weeks, of sadness and depression pining for her home. For her husband. For anything but this. It was ironic really, being who she—! “W-well, what’s your name?” Butter Pecan asked as the creature drew close. She flinched back a little when its large hands came to cup the side of her face. She took a few deep breathes. The general had promised her four figures in bits and a week’s vacation for this! She just had to be brave. If it tried to hurt her, there were soldiers waiting and stun-batons that were charged. The mare huffed twice, not retreating anymore. The hand reached again, and the creature petted her up and between the ears. W-well, it could’ve been worse really. That did feel nice. “My name is Lauren,” she whispered, walking to her side and throwing a leg over her. Butter Pecan whinnied a little and the monster danced on her tippy-toe for a moment before sitting rather neatly on her back. “Giddy-up,” she giggled, digging her heels into her ribs a little. “H-hey now!” Butter Pecan’s wings flared open, flapping this way and that. She couldn’t lift off with the creature on her back. Lauren scratched her between the ears again, and she settled out of her panic in a few moments. “You’re heavy!” she complained. “Am not!” Lauren looked offended at her. “You’re built just fine for it. Why do you think ponies wear saddles, huhm? For fun?” Butter Pecan looked over her shoulder and stared at her in stark silence. The monster grinned, patting her muzzle. “Giddy-up,” she repeated, digging her heels in again. Butter Pecan, with no other real response, began a brisk canter about the room. It wasn’t a large room, so there wasn’t much space to do anything but go in circles. “What I wouldn’t give for a field to rush through!” The monster said gaily, holding onto the mare’s shoulder and mane with its large hands. They clippity-clopped around the room several times, Lauren teetering back and forth a few times but certainly doing her best riding bare-back. This went on for maybe twenty minutes before the poor mare began to slow down and pant a little. “It's okay, we can stop. Celestia is more my size anyway.” she giggled. “I don’t think the Princess would let you ride her,” Butter Pecan snorted, a bit red-faced at how this had all turned out. She’d been expecting checkers or something, not this! She tried to remember the money and nice things promised. And it was good for crown and country, she’d been told. Lauren smirked a little. “Hah! No I guess not. She doesn’t have a saddle at home. Not for the reason you do, anyw—wha-hahhh?!” Butter Pecan jolted to a halt, scarlet in the face. Lauren toppled off with a loud bump, rubbing her head and hips. “H-h-how could you possibly—?!” Butter hadn’t let that saddle see the light of day… ever! She’d bought it at night, wore it at night, and only… well, in the bedroom. On special occasions. In spring. When she felt like it. Sometimes when her husband wanted her to. “I know everything,” Lauren smiled from where she lay on her side. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” She put a finger to her lips to make a little hushy-sound, winking. “What do you mean you know everything?!” Butter Pecan demanded, flushed. “Are you spying on me?!” “Oh no no, nothing like that.” Lauren sat up, recovering and rubbing her butt a little. “It’s why I’m here. I know things I can’t know. Celestia thinks I’m a threat to national security.” “T…tell me who’s out there.” Butter Pecan demanded pointing at the steel door. “Lt. Sentry, my main guard,” Lauren listed off. “Nice stallion, very skilled with two-hoof’d weapons. Good with his hooves when it comes to carpentry.” She paused, as though in thought. “Noble Cause. A little ruddy around the mid-section, but she means well and loves foals. She wants like six when she finishes her enlistment for the military.” She shook her head with a smile, “Also General Night Light. Twilight Sparkle’s father. I’m sure you know who she is as well?” “The sun’s favored foal.” Butter Pecan said in a whisper. “Princess Celestia’s new protégé?” “That’s the one. That’s her Dad. He’s going to retire soon, I think, to spend more time with his wife and family while the foals are still young.” Lauren smiled wider and wider, for Butter Pecan looked positively spellbound. “There is one more pony—” The bell sounded and the mare flinched. “O-oh, it’s only been a few minutes… I guess I have to go.” she said, looking uncertain. “I understand,” Lauren said, shaking her head. “They tend to pull my playmates when I talk too much. If I never see you again, be happy, my little pony.” The scarlet-maned monster reached and scrubbed the mare’s head affectionately. “You don’t seem so scary, Miss Lauren,” Butter Pecan admitted softly as the monster retreated back to its cell. Their eyes met, and Lauren smiled graciously at her kind words. “Maybe we’ll see each—” the wall had slid closed, leaving the monster alone in its cell. It sighed, flopping back down on its cot. Well, at least there was a little interaction for a day. Later... Outside the safe room, while all the cleaning crews and others were rushing about to sterilize the place again, General Night Light and Princess Celestia stood side by side. In front of them, inscribed on the wall, was a life-sized sketch of a pony. It appeared to be chalk by the dusty look, but nopony dared touch it to check. It was a stallion by its proportions, perhaps an earth pony. Most might mistake it for a cave drawing, if perhaps it hadn’t popped up in the lowest dungeons of Mount Canterlot. “See?” General Light said. “She’s doing it again.” “Disturbing,” Celestia admitted, shuffling her wings in a shuddering sort of way. “I had Flower Power looked into, as you requested.” “And?” “She has a full history, family, school grades, and an entire legacy of paperwork to back-up her existance.” Celestia told him. “And yet she didn’t exist at all more than a week or so ago.” “Your majesty if this thing can just make up ponies what’s to stop it from making up monsters? Or natural disasters? Or armies of warmongering griffins?” He said, looking at her with a frown. “I don’t know, General.” Celestia said. “I’ve had it down here for several years now, and as of yet it’s done no such thing. We can only hope it doesn’t suddenly gain the desire to do so.” “Why doesn’t it leave? Making something, or somepony from nothing… it’s like she wants to be here, but hates it. Why not make up a pony that specializes in jailbreaks or... or something?” Night Light frowned in scowly confusion. “I don't know. It’s bound by enough physical rules that we can contain it.” Celestia said softly. “That’s certainly good enough for me. All we can do is try to make it comfortable, and hope it doesn’t come up with anything dangerous.” “Yes, your highness.” He nodded. “Are there any adjustments you’d like to make?” “Bring her flowers with her next meal. A big vase of them. Red, like her mane. Don’t skimp on the meal either, she can’t eat them like we can,” Celestia bade, turning for the door. “I understand.” “Have Butter Pecan’s memory wiped. Tell her the four figures of bits are a bonus for her years of service, directly from the crown, and the extra week’s vacation is for her to do with as she pleases.” Celestia paused at the door, her two guards ready to follow her. “…and General?” “Yes, your highness?” “Have that wall scrubbed. Whoever that was, he wasn’t real. Leave no trace.” She nodded towards the sketched stallion that the monster had willed into existence. “Yes ma’am,” General Light bowed until she was gone, then set to do as she'd commanded.