//------------------------------// // Wayfinder, the Friend of Royalty // Story: The Mysterious Wayfinder // by Aegis Shield //------------------------------// The Mysterious Wayfinder Part 3: Wayfinder, the Friend of Royalty Princess Celestia was genuinely startled when a masked stallion emerged through the double doors of the palace throne room. Guards turned, frowning at him. “Sorry buddy, no masks or cutie-mark covering equipment allowed to petitioners,” the nearest armored stallion told him sternly. “That includes hats, ski masks, head scarfs and masquerade masks. Take it off!” Leveling his spear, the guard poked his chest a few times. The Wayfinder’s horn lit, nudging the spear aside. Stepping forward with a long, quick strides, he tapped the guard with his horn. “Sleep,” he whispered. The guard dropped with a crash of metal. “Get him!” the dozen or so guards in the room turned, wings snapping open and horns coming alight. Wayfinder locked eyes with Celestia for a split moment. “Hold,” Celestia bade them all. Everypony froze. “Let him approach. I know this pony, he will not harm me.” Rising from her throne, the majestic alicorn walked slowly down the stairs. “Leave us, all of you.” There were shouts of protest, but a quick stamp of her hoof sent everypony scrambling. They picked up their unconscious brother and bore him away. Soon, the throne room was empty save for the Princess and the Wayfinder. “Princess Celestia, forgive my intrusion,” the Wayfinder bowed before her. “I know that mask, and I know that uniform,” Celestia said gently, her mouth a neutral line. “But I would swear the last time I saw you, Wayfinder, you were a red earth pony stallion.” She watched the mild twitch of his jawline. “And before that, I might’ve thought you had black wings and a rather bad attitude.” She walked a slow semi-circle around him. “And before that, dark blue fur and a left-spiral horn. Those are quite rare, even today.” “Well, ponies change every day. I don’t imagine even you stay the same for a long period of time,” Wayfinder offered slowly. Blueblood was sweating under his mask. Celestia had noticed his lineage, no doubt. “I might tear that mask off of your face, you know,” Celestia said, tilting her head to one side. Her horn lit and the anti-magic bands in Blueblood’s mask hissed and popped with strain. They weren’t meant to hold back an alicorn. “But, history has painted you as something of a folk hero,” she released him. He sighed in relief. “So tell me. What brings such an… ‘elderly shapeshifter’,” her eyes flicked about in case somepony might be listening. “To my presence?” “The only reason the Wayfinder ever appears, your majesty,” Blueblood did his best to hide his accent and his nervousness. “Because somepony needs aid and cannot help themselves.” Turning into his blue with gold trim petticoat, he produced three photographs. Celestia took them gently. “I only tend to meet you once or twice in each of your… incarnations,” she whispered. “You’re quite young in the body for having visited me so soon.” Was she scolding him? He said nothing. “But I have never turned down the answer to the plight of my little ponies.” Turning from him, she ascended to the throne. She studied the photos and her face softened. She got paper and quill, scratching for a few silent minutes. Wayfinder’s heart soared when she got her golden candle and seal. Dripping hot wax with her magic, she stamped her seal. “Tiz dangerous for somepony like you to approach somepony like me so publically,” Celestia chided a little. “I would not hope you would abuse our relationship, old friend.” she curled the parchment, tied the ribbon, and affixed her seal again. “Never,” the Wayfinder smiled as he pushed the paper gently into a scroll case. He sealed it tight. “I promise you shan’t see me again for—” “At least five years,” Celestia put in for him. She lowered her voice. “I am not so heartless as to not help you, Wayfinder, but do not think to abuse my power for your own ends, noble though they may be. Operate outside the law thus, and you will be jailed.” “I understand,” Wayfinder turned, pawing at the scroll case a few times. “This is not a favor I call in lightly. I made sure everything was on the up and up. I swear to you, this will all be put right.” “Goodbye,” Celestia turned from him, and he vanished with a crack of parted air. Celestia turned when she sensed another presence in the archway of the throne room’s doors. “Princess?” the mare called, staring in confusion. “Twilight? What an unexpected surprise!” Celestia’s shields all came up. “I was in a private audience with… with somepony. I was sure the doors were closed.” Twilight cocked her head with worry, “Is everything okay? I was coming in for our usual weekly tea, but somepony said you’d cleared the throne room for a masked petitioner so I came running as fast as I could! Are you okay, Princess?” the purple mare came forward. “Oh yes, yes of course,” Celestia smiled genuinely. “He was just an old… acquaintance of mine. He’s gone now, and shan’t visit again anytime soon.” Her wings folded for comfort as she spoke, coming down the dais again to hug Twilight. “Was he your friend?” the purple mare wanted to know, ever the curious student. “It’s… complicated. Wayfinder is… erm…” Celestia smiled in a rather strained way. Twilight’s face said she understood details weren’t to be shared and coughed twice, looking to one side. “Did you bring the teas I asked you to find?” The alicorn steered the conversation away from the masked stallion. Twilight nodded, filing the name in her memory. For how old did one have to be, and still look so young, to be the ‘old friend’ of an alicorn? =-=-=-= Wayfinder walked at night on the outskirts of Appleoosia. It was a bit outside his normal territory, but exceptions had been made for this errand. A run-down looking home with an herb garden and a pair of carts was before him. On the lawn was a bent billboard that read: I WAS 19. SHE WAS 17. THAT MADE ME A CRIMINAL IN THE EYES OF THE LAW. LET EVERYPONY KNOW BEFORE THEY GIVE ME WORK OR THE RIGHT TO VOTE OR ANYTHING ELSE. I'M BOUND BY LAW TO PUT THIS SIGN IN MY YARD. Wayfinder leaned, gently setting an woodcutting axe on the lawn. Clearing his throat and adjusting his banner mask, he moved to the stoop and knocked. A rather haggard looking, middle-aged stallion answered. “Sorry buddy, I’ve got no money to donate to your cause,” he said miserably. “Try next door. Miss Petunia’s awful nice.” His accent was thick, and his eyes were cast downward. He’d not even looked to see the mask on Blueblood’s face. So, Wayfinder dropped a thick manilla file on the stoop for him to see. The stallion startled, for his picture was attached to it by a paperclip. His face, the sign in his yard, and a photo that was from his own wedding. “Who--?!” he startled when he saw the mask. “What is this?!” he said, backing into his home and using the door as a shield. “Dad, whossat?!” A tiny female voice called from inside. “Take your brothers and go to your rooms!” The stallion commanded. “Don’t come out for no-pony till I say!” Wayfinder was used to this by now. Some ponies panicked in his presence. The mask frightened some, un-eased others, and fostered distrust in the beginning. Good. They didn’t need to know him. “If y’all are comin’ to make trouble…” the stallion grumble-growled. “Sorry, I’ve a message for one Mister Quick Kick?” the white unicorn chuckled. “My name is Wayfinder.” “A message? We got a mailmare… sort of,” he peered at the skies for a certain wall-eyed mare, but it was well after dark. “This first class’r’something?” “Something like that,” Wayfinder gave him the scroll case. “The royal seal?!” Quick Kick nearly gagged on his own spit as he wrenched it open: To the recipient of this scroll, one Mister Quick Kick of Appleoosia, You are, by the royal hoof of Princess Celestia Equiss, daughter of Faust, and co-ruler of Equestria, pardoned of all perceived crimes and wrong-doings in the eyes of Appleoosian law. It has been brought to my eyes that you are no criminal, and I will not allow you to be treated as such. Present this scroll, with my seal stamped at the bottom, to your nearest law enforcement office and let my powers as Princess restore any and all rights that have been withheld from you from this day hence. By my hoof and powers divine by birth, ~Princess Celestia Quick Kick slumped against the doorframe, his mouth a-quiver. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he looked up at Wayfinder. “But… but they said there was no way,” he mewled softly, covering his face with an emotional hoof. “Th-that the whole system was against me!” “The system certainly cared when you crawled into bed at the tender age of nineteen, when she was seventeen,” Wayfinder said delicately. “However, the detail seems lost that when she became pregnant with your foals you married her, moved in together and have shared a happy home since then. With… what, three more foals since?” the mysterious stallion smirked a little. "That does not sound like a criminal to me." “I erm… I erm... honey! Honey get out here! There’s somepony you have to meet!” Quick Kick wheeled around to shout for his wife. “Don’t forget to take the sign down,” Wayfinder vanished into thin air. “Who’re you talkin’ to, sweet‘uhms?” a kindly mare appeared in the doorway, nuzzling her husband. “The kids just stampeded into their room!” “He’s right here, he--!” Quick Kick gestured at nopony, falling silent. “He just cleared mah name…” he showed his wife the scroll. Her eyes raced back and forth across it, “Mah stars!” she shrieked, tears jumping to her eyes. “Th-this means--!” “We can move! I can vote! Own land! I can do anything again!” Quick Kick smooshed his wife into his great barrel chest. “I can take this dang sign down!” he suddenly released her and rushed, throwing out his back legs. He didn’t even need the axe. Wayfinder watched the young couple dance in their yard for a bit, smiling from the shadow of a nearby building. Politicians were already drafting it now. They were calling it ‘Quick Kick’s Amendment’, so this would never happen to anypony else, ever again. End of Part 3