//------------------------------// // Cuimhne // Story: Courts of The Magi // by Airstream //------------------------------// Cobblestone didn’t remember much of the walk into town, being half-dazed and suddenly shaky, as if she had run a long way, though she had hardly exerted herself at all. Stars burst in her eyes occasionally, bringing with them impressions of soft twilight and foliage and fangs, but they were infrequent enough that she was able to walk under her own power. As they walked, Cobblestone noticed that some of the ponies around her weren’t wearing the uniforms of the Guards, but a different uniform altogether. They wore rounded helmets and smart red jackets, buttoned with brass that glinted in the light of the lanterns they carried on long hooks. They didn’t carry guns or swords, but Cobblestone did see nightsticks at their belts, and something about the way they carried themselves told her that these were not only police officers. From ahead, there was a cry, and an answering call rose from the ponies in red, and Cobblestone looked away to see that suddenly they were on the outskirts of a large town, if not an outright city. Walls ran around it, ramparts of stone manned by more ponies in red, and they stepped through the gate onto a cobbled road, bounded on either side by buildings of mixed architecture, ranging from brick and mortar to thatched roofs and plaster. The streets were largely empty, though Cobblestone caught a few windows swinging open to see what all the commotion was about, and a few passersby who stepped quickly to the side of the street, not afraid, but cautious and businesslike. A few even gave cheery waves to the procession before returning to their business, assured that all was well by the ponies marching past. Ahead was Libra, chattering animatedly with one of the ponies in red, clearly in charge, before he strode off down a side street, never breaking into an outright run, or even a trot, but keeping his measured steps. A thought occurred to her, and she craned her neck around, ignoring the throbbing it caused, and looked for the pony in golden armor. He wasn’t difficult to see, a towering figure amongst the red and purple uniforms which surrounded him, not necessarily a prisoner, but allowing himself to be escorted quite docilely. As if he could sense her, he turned his head to Cobblestone, a serene expression on his face, and nodded his head a fraction of an inch. The gesture felt strange to her, as if she’d seen him do it a hundred times before, and it unnerved the young apprentice in ways she couldn’t explain. “Miss?” a voice asked her, and Cobblestone jumped as she realized that somepony was talking to her. The speaker, a red-coated constable, smiled at her with a kindly expression ono his face, the blue of his coat wrinkled with laugh lines. “This is where you’re staying for the evening. The young Lady requested you spend the night in the room adjoining hers.” They had stopped in a courtyard dominated by a single massive oak tree, from which windows and lanterns protruded, and a door was set into the trunk. A low wall of stone and mortar surrounded it entirely, and every building in the courtyard was arranged to present at least one face to that tree, wide banks of windows so the ponies inside could view it. The building they were standing in front of proclaimed itself to be the House of the Golden Oak, and sure enough, the sign was emblazoned with a good likeness of the tree, expertly gilded. Cobblestone noticed that the pony in golden armor had stopped by the door as well, though the crowd around him seemed to have other ideas. His face was drawn, worried about her, and though he was not technically hurting the guards, he was struggling to remain close. Before she could say anything, one of the constables had drawn the baton from his belt and touched it to the pony’s back. There was a thunderous crack and the smell of ozone, and the pony that Libra had called a “Sunborn” let loose a mighty roar, picking up the offending constable and flinging him bodily through the air, where he hit the wall of the building Cobblestone was about to enter. With another growl, the pegasus spread his wings wide, two thin blades appearing on them where they had not been before, cleverly concealed in his armor. The other constables and the Guards scrambled back with shouts of alarm, clutching for weapons, and without realizing it, Cobblestone found herself streaking across the lawn towards him, desperate to ensure that he did not harm anypony, or anypony would harm him. “Stop!” she cried, her voice high and fearful. “Stop right there!” The pegasus stiffened at the sound of her voice before dropping to one knee, his wings folded along his back once more. It was not a position of submission, that much she could see, but one of low readiness. Cobblestone burst through the line of Guards, interposing herself between them and the pegasus, her hooves planted wide and her horn alight, though with what spell she hardly knew. What ponies remained in the courtyard cleared out with remarkable alacrity, and several other constables, who had been standing idly by, rushed off down side streets blowing whistles, calling for help and warning passerby to get to shelter as if they had been trained for it their whole lives. Up close, Cobblestone realized how truly massive the Pegasus was in comparison to her. He was twice her height, and outweighed her by more than that. His wings were more at home on a Gryphon, and he smelled of sweat and a strange, musky odor that wasn’t precisely displeasing, but was surely unusual. That too felt familiar to her, and she could not explain why. Despite his bulk, and the fact that he could easily kill her, Cobblestone felt an assurance that he would rather die than see her come to harm, a feeling that she for some reason reciprocated. The Guards and constables drew their weapons, holding them low, and Cobblestone felt a thrumming in the ground that she realized was a growl from deep within the chest of the Sunborn, too low to be heard, but definitely felt. It would appear she wasn’t the only one, as the ponies she could see took a step back in caution. One of the constables, a Pegasus with a coat of purple and a mane of pastel blue, cleared her throat. “Step back, Miss,” she said, “He’s dangerous. We’re taking him to lockup, he won’t come to harm.” “He didn’t hurt anypony until one of you redcoats jabbed him with your baton!” Cobblestone retorted. “The Magus told us about his type,” the constable replied calmly. “Sunborn are violent, unstable, and much more dangerous than they look. Frankly, Miss, I’m surprised he hasn’t tried something to you yet. If you feel that strongly about it, I can place you in lockup right alongside him, and…” “What’s going on here?” a new voice called, and Cobblestone felt a wave of relief wash over her as Libra appeared seemingly out of nowhere, materializing from the shadows. “I said that I wanted the Sunborn in lockup where he couldn’t hurt anypony, why is he…Cobblestone?” “He didn’t hurt anypony!” Cobblestone shouted defensively, and she felt the Sunborn hum in agreement. “He just didn’t want to leave, and then one of them jabbed him with some kind of…lightning rod!” “He was being uncooperative and assaulted one of my ponies,” the constable said as Libra joined her in the perimeter. “We were containing him, and then this filly pushed through the line and now she won’t leave!” “Why is he going to be locked up?” Cobblestone asked. “You saw him, Libra. He was in that place, that forest place! Who knows how long he’s been in there? He needs help, not a prison cell!” “Cobblestone, I understand you’re upset,” Libra said. “But that thing is dangerous, and it needs to be locked up before it hurts somepony. You don’t know what it’s capable of.” “I know it’s a pony and not an animal,” Cobblestone said. “And he was just fine until these dungheads tried to attack him!” Libra’s face drew tight. “Cobblestone,” she said severely, “As your teacher and Magus, I order you to allow these constables to take that Sunborn to a prison cell. You’re my apprentice; I’m trying to do what’s best for you. Do as I say.” Cobblestone lifted her chin defiantly. “Then I’m going with him,” she said with a toss of her head. “You’re acting like a stubborn child,” Libra said angrily. “You’re more reasonable than this, Cobblestone!” “Says the pony trying to lock up a pony who’s done no harm!” Cobblestone shot back. “And you’re calling me stubborn? You don’t even know who this pony is!” The pegasus behind her stirred a bit, his tail flicking agitatedly. Cobblestone felt the ring closing in around her, and she settled into a fighting stance. It was stupid, beyond asinine, but she wasn’t going to let this go. A fire began to burn in her belly, and there was the clatter of metal as the pegasus lifted his wings once more. "Stop”” Libra commanded imperiously. “Hold your lines, damn you!” The line held, but did not retreat. Libra’s eyes met Cobblestone’s own, purple to brown, and neither yielded. Cobblestone didn’t want to fight, didn’t know why she was trying to, but she refused to back down. Libra’s eyes seemed to search her soul for an answer, and at last, the Magus sighed, looking away. “I’m going to examine him mentally,” Libra said. “For all the good it’ll do on a beast like that. If I catch a smidgeon of ill will towards the ponies around him, he’s going to his cell.” “And I’ll follow him,” Cobblestone said. She straightened up, trying to indicate that the Sunborn should relax. He didn’t, not entirely, but the blades on his wings slid back into his armor, and he knelt properly this time, willing to follow Cobblestone’s example for now. Libra approached cautiously, her horn alight, a trace of fear around her eyes. Carefully, she passed Cobblestone, and with only a brief grumbling from the hulking pegasus, she touched her horn to his forehead. Cobblestone watched as they both stiffened, twitching slightly, and a moment of silence spread across the courtyard, deep enough that the only thing that could be heard was the gentle sighing of the wind in the boughs of the oak. A whistle spoke quietly in the distance, and Cobblestone realized that reinforcements were on their way back. Libra straightened up with a shudder, and turned to Cobblestone. “I cannot tell,” she said. “He is…damaged. He remembers snippets of his life, bits and pieces really, but the rest is a blank. Some of it is a result of what he went through before he was captured by the Fae, but the rest was taken from him. I cannot undo Fae magic. His memories are gone, mostly, except for a few, and they’re too strange for me to understand properly.” “What do you mean?’ Cobblestone asked. “Is he safe to be around?” Libra thought. “He is safe so long as he is around a leader to follow. All Sunborn are like that, they’re soldiers, made to follow any order. But they’re supposed to answer to Celestia, and he doesn’t seem to remember who Celestia is.” She turned to the Sunborn, who was resting quietly, holding his head. “It was difficult to get in,” she said, sympathy tinging her voice. “I am no Cleric, and he is made to resist mental attack naturally. It was painful for us both. His mind is still there, but very damaged. I think the Fae would have taken his memories of Celestia first. It would have amused them.” “So what do we do?” Cobblestone asked. “You said he’s safe so long as he’s around a leader. Do we bring him back to Celestia? Do we leave him here?” Libra’s eyes, suddenly tired, met her own. “His memories of Celestia have been replaced with somepony else,” she said. “It wouldn’t do any good to try and erase them, or bring him back to Celestia. Aether knows what she’d do with him.” She grimaced, like she had tasted something bitter. Drawing a breath in through her nose, she looked squarely at Cobblestone. “You need to stay with him tonight in the prison to keep him safe,” she said. “He no longer answers to Celestia, Cobblestone. As far as this Sunborn is concerned, he has been and will always be your loyal servant.” Cobblestone came to the conclusion that she spent far too much time in jail. First had come the prison in Crescent City, which she would rather not recall, then came the jail in Starfall, which had been an elaborate test, and now came this. “This” was a prison cell made less for extended stays and more for overnight holding, and the lack of amenities proved it, with only a small bench and a rudimentary toilet to her name. She debated including the house she had spent time in before the Starfall prison, but decided against it. It was less of a prison and more of a very strict guest house in her mind. She supposed it wasn’t all bad. The jail guards, wearing coats of red, were friendly and talkative, offering her some of their meager dinner, which she had accepted gratefully, and given her a small cot and a bundle of blankets and a pillow, which had certainly seen better days, but were no less useful for it. The door to her cell remained open, so she could come and go as she pleased, but she decided against going far. After all, in the cell next to hers was a pony she had a great many questions for. The Sunborn was a decidedly odd creature. It had taken a good deal of coaxing from Cobblestone before he would remove his armor, and despite the best efforts of most of the jailers, moving the pieces had proved near impossible without his help, which he seemed to find amusing. The pony underneath was powerfully built, a rippling mass of muscle that seemed to almost burst forth from beneath his coat at times, and he smelled overwhelmingly of sweat. He’d been hosed down, Cobblestone standing alongside him and getting drenched herself to keep him calm, and even shivering, water dripping from the lank strands of reddish-brown mane on his head, he possessed an air of dangerous dignity even before he turned the golden orbs of his pupil-less eyes on others. His body was scarred, the lines visible against even the off-white of his coat, and a great piece of his flank had been removed at some point, at least a superficial part of it. The guards had explained to her what it had meant when she asked about their horrified expressions. “They took his Mark,” the younger of the jailors, a unicorn mare named Ivory said. She lifted the hem of her coat to expose a strange marking that seemed to resemble a snowflake by way of explanation. “A Mark defines a pony, and they just took it from him.” The Sunborn had said nothing, merely waited for them to finish discussing him, and then walked with Cobblestone back to his cell, where he immediately collapsed onto the bench, which groaned under his weight, curled into a ball, and fell into a deep sleep. Cobblestone finished piling the blankets onto her bed, listening to the deep breathing coming from the cell next to hers, and curiosity finally overcame her. She turned, exiting her cell, and stood in the corridor, watching the Sunborn’s chest rise and fall. Even from here, deeply asleep, he looked imposing. She wondered what had happened to him to make him like this. From what Libra had told her, it sounded like he wasn’t born this way, but rather made. The pace of the Sunborn’s breathing changed, though Cobblestone had made no sound, and without a word, the Pegasus stretched, rolled off of his bench, and turned to face her, bowing slightly as he did so. He seemed to be waiting for orders. Cobblestone, suddenly nervous, returned the bow. It seemed right for her to do, somehow. “Hello,” she said quietly. “My name is Cobblestone.” The Sunborn said nothing, merely looked at her. Its eyes held no malice, though something she could not identify lurked behind them, bright and quick. She scuffed a hoof awkwardly and tried again. “Libra told me a bit about you,” she said, trying to sound encouraging. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, it sounds horrible.” Again, there was no answer. “I guess you’re not much of a talker,” Cobblestone said. “That’s fine. I just wanted to ask a few questions.” The Sunborn tilted his head, seemingly inquisitive. Cobblestone suddenly felt anger burning in her chest. “Look,” she said, exasperatedly, “Can you even talk? Do you speak Eqquish? Or did the Fae take that, too?” The pegasus opened his mouth and spoke, his voice expressionless. “I apologize, my master,” he said, a booming rumble that reminded Cobblestone of the sound of a stampede. It was a pleasant voice, but loud, and though he spoke at what she might have considered a murmur, it rung through the air much more loudly than she had anticipated. “But I cannot speak unless you ask me a question, or permit me otherwise.” “Well,” Cobblestone said, a bit awkwardly. “You have my permission to speak, I guess. You don’t need permission from me to do that. Not now, not ever. And don’t call me master, Cobblestone’s fine.” “Cobble-stone,” the pegasus murmured, as if trying it on for size. “An interesting name. I am…I am…” His expression turned sheepish. “I cannot remember,” he said. “It is not there. The Leanan took much from me.” “The mare with the red mane, right?” Cobblestone asked excitedly. “Did she tell you to follow me?” “No,” the Sunborn said, shaking his head. “No. She gave me to you with the kiss. I am yours, and she holds a geasa as payment.” “Geasa?” “A favor, I think would be a good way of putting it,” the Sunborn said. “You owe her a favor. That can be a dangerous thing among the Fae, Cobblestone. But I am yours now. Leanan cannot take me from you, and I shall do everything in my power to protect you.” Cobblestone felt a chill run down her spine at the thought of owing one of the Fae anything. She’d never encountered them directly before, but she’d heard stories. “What are you?” she asked. “I mean, aside from a pegasus. What is a Sunborn?” The Sunborn sat down, his eyes distant. “I am one of one thousand,” he said, as if by rote. “We are weapons of war and wrath, judgement to be passed on the unrighteous. We were once common ponies, loyal citizens and soldiers. We were chosen to be elevated above the rest, separated from the common chaff to become more than soldiers. We were forged into weapons and aimed at the heart of our foe.” “Your foe?” Cobblestone asked. “Who was that?” The Sunborn furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “Though I have forgotten much,” he said, his voice grim, “I have not forgotten our enemy. There was a revolt. An upstart mage attempted to claim the Everfree as her own. For four long years the war dragged on, and we were the weapons to end it and reunite Equestria once more.” Cobblestone’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re talking about Lady Everstar!” she exclaimed. “You were at the Evening Rebellion?” The pegasus simply nodded. “Tell me!” he boomed. “How fares the conflict? I take it from your tone that it has either ended or come to a stalemate.” “It ended four hundred years ago,” Cobblestone said in awe. “Celestia lost, we seceded.” “Celestia…” the Sunborn murmured in the same tone he had used when saying Cobblestone’s name for the first time. “The name is one I should remember, but do not, I think. So, it is over and done, and my brothers and sisters are dead. They died valiantly, as we were taught, I hope.” “How did you survive this long?” Cobblestone asked. “Gryphons rarely live to four hundred!” “Time moves strangely in the courts of the Fae,” the pegasus said, his wings rising ever so slightly, a sign of stress. “Days and nights pass like drops of rain, or stop like the roots of an oak. By my estimate, I could have spent a thousand years in the realm of Faerie. Or perhaps it was a fortnight.” “What did they do to you?” Cobblestone asked. The Pegasus shuddered. “If you have love for me, ask me not again,” he said. “But since you have asked, I shall tell you.” “I was taken when we were burning the Forest,” he said. “I was a swift flyer, and so I took my hammer and went to scout the way ahead. I saw the beings living inside the Everfree marching toward us, and managed to sound my horn for the alarm before I was forced to land. Though we are taught not to fear, my brothers and sisters and I know not to spend our lives foolishly. I saw dragons in the air, small ones, but no more lethal for it.” He sat back down again, eyes burning a hole in the floor. “I fought to rejoin my fellows, but was overcome by the vanguard of the Everfree. There were timber wolves, and an enting, though I did not know what it was at the time. They chose not to slay me, but kept me, and I was hauled away after slaying six wolves and crippling the enting. I fell unconscious somewhere along the way, and when I awoke, I was in a strange place.” “A bower of roses encircled me,” he said with a shudder. “They twined around me, and though I tried to break them, they were stronger than they looked. But I struggled until I was bloody, and only once I had given up all hope of rescue did the Leanan come to me. She told me I had slain six of her servants, and given pains to another, and so I was hers by ancient law. I cursed her, but could do nothing as she reached inside my head and…” “You don’t have to keep going,” Cobblestone said, reaching through the bars. “You can stop.” The Sunborn shivered, and shook his head. “She kept me as many things,” he continued. “I was her champion at times. The Fae loved to see blood spilled, and so I would fight other things, beasts or other captives. Other times she would keep me as a lover, and still others as a pet to be beaten, though she had a true pet, a great black cat that never left her side.” “Hob?” Cobblestone asked quietly. “Are you talking about Hob?” The Sunborn considered. “That is one of its names, aye,” he said. “I never knew exactly what it was, though I dreaded having to fight it one day. She was very put out when it managed to escape her court. How do you know of it?” “It’s my pet,” Cobblestone said. “Or companion. Sort of. The ponies I’m traveling with don’t know much about him, and I’d like to keep it that way.” “It would be best,” the Sunborn agreed. There was a chime from outside, a clock tower striking the hour of midnight. The Sunborn’s ears pricked up at the sound, and traveled back to Cobblestone. “You should sleep, Cobblestone,” he said. “I shall answer the rest of your questions tomorrow.” “I’m not tired!” Cobblestone protested. She was immediately betrayed by a very large yawn. The Sunborn raised an eyebrow. “Every warrior needs sleep,” he said. “Even one such as you.” “What about you?” Cobblestone asked. “Don’t you need sleep? Did they feed you?” “I need little sleep and less food,” the pegasus said. “I might meditate on what I have learned. You have given me much to think on.” “I’m sleeping out here,” Cobblestone declared. “To keep you company.” The pegasus bowed his head. “If that is your wish,” he said. Cobblestone lit her horn, dragging the cot into the hallway. She had set to arranging the pillow and blankets, when a though occurred to her. “What should I call you?” she asked. “I can’t just go around calling you ‘Sunborn’.” The pegasus considered this, his brow furrowing. “I gave up my name when I became what I am,” he rumbled. “I remember that much. Many of us did, as a sign of devotion and fraternity to one another. Name me what you will.” “Oh, come on,” Cobblestone said. “If what Libra says is true, you’ve been through too much already. At least take a name you like, or else I’ll name you something ridiculous like Butternut.” The pegasus smiled briefly, for the first time since Cobblestone had met him. He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke. “It is strange,” he said, “But I remember a fragment of an old poem. ‘Out of the night that covers me, black as pitch from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul’. I have come through the long twilight, and come tomorrow, I’ll see my first proper dawn in four hundred years. Call me ‘Invictus’, Cobblestone.” “Invictus,” Cobblestone murmured as she settled in, feeling sleep come to claim her. “That’s a good name. Good night, Invictus. I’ll see you in the morning.” “Good night, Cobblestone,” Invictus said, his voice echoing in her ears as she drifted away. “I’ll be here.”