“You’re still alive?” Was my rude awakening from the captain of the royal guard, simply put, he looked amused by my survival.
“How rude of me,” I jested, he snickered, “I guess making friends was out of your challenge?”
“You made a friend?”
“Of course I did,” I mean it’s not hard to befriend a cellmate, is it? “Skipper! Say high to the captain of the royal guard,” Skipper peaked her head from the ‘Equestrian constitutional bylaws and regulations’ and almost immediately she ran and hid behind me.
Shining Armor gave me a wry look, "You gave a drone a name? How did you do that?"
“She’s kind of shy at first, but she is very helpful in memorizing details,” Skipper peaked her head from behind me and looked at Armor, then hid back behind me, “Come now Skipper, what was that law we made fun of all last night?”
“Article 1, section 10: If stuck on any law please refer to the highest authority in Equestria Princess Celestia or any other alicorn in the seat of power at any given moment.” Skipper replied sheepishly before returning to her hiding spot.
Now I am not much of a law person I admit, I barely understand any mumbo jumbo that are laws and regulations or anything related to them, to the frustration of my previous roommate, now a prominent lawyer, which I remembered him last night yelling at me for not understand what’s the definition of law is.
But I know a fluke when I see one.
“Tell me, sir Armor, is Celestia a god? I'm just curious here.”
With that same smile that challenged me yesterday, Armor replied, “Now that is an interesting turn of event. You really are something else entirely, do you know that?”
"Is that suppose to mean something?"
Armor looked at me like I have three heads, “You really don’t know? Normal drones don’t have names and it’s impossible for us ponies to name them.”
Is that a fact now? “Guess changelings only accept names from other changelings?” I asked the one behind me, who bit her lower lip in return. Guess she doesn’t want to tell.
Moving on.
“So, you’re here to take us to the trial or for something else?”
“Oh right, forgot about that,” is that even possible? “I’ll be seeing you to the holding cage in the courtroom before returning to my duties in taking over princess Celestia’s duties for the day with my wife, while the princess herself takes the role of judge.”
“So I’m being judged by a goddess?”
“So it would seem, don’t embarrass yourself too much, you hear?”
“Since when did I embarrass myself in the first place?”
“Well, you punched the doctor who was trying to help you, you tried to drug yourself at least twice as far as I heard, and you thought you were under some form of hallucinogenic influence.”
Oh, oops. “I-I’ll do my best then.” I never thought I’d stutter in a situation like this.
The next thing I knew shackles appeared on my three remaining hooves. “Oh neat!” I turned around and skipper also had her hooves shackled. “But is that really necessary?”
“Standard procedure I’m afraid,” He answered with an apologetic smile.
I sighed, “Let’s go Skipper; wouldn’t want to be late for her majesty plot handing.”
“Nice choice of words, won’t help you in court though,” he answered immediately.
“Witless comments are left among acquaintances.”
“So you understand that it was witless?” I glare at him, he answered with laughter, “You know, I really want to watch your trial, but I guess it’ll have to wait, so don’t die on me, alright?”
“Not planning on it.”
“Alright then!”
And with that we started walking the same corridor that lead me here yesterday. However, instead of the normal servants and regulars I saw yesterday, there was an endless stream of guards; each of them having a look that ranges from insignificance to hatred, leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
Such tense atmospheres really doesn’t help one to relax, I turned to Skipper who was still shivering in the same manner as since she met Shining Armor.
“You really should smile more,” I addressed her in an upbeat voice, “It will hurt them more if you look like you don’t care.”
“But they scoff, they pity, they hate,” she answered me, “Their emotions taste so bad, it's making me sick.”
“That is why; you should smile at them, hatred cannot be answered with submission, nor can it be answered with anger,” I waved at one who seemed particularly nasty, “That will infuriate them even more, and will give you an unprecedented advantage.”
“Is that why you’re grinning like an idiot?”
Ouch, where did that come from? “Then that is a good thing. When we show our real side, they won’t know what hit them,” and there is that smile from yesterday.
Skipper isn’t the brightest pea in the bunch; I became painfully aware of that when I started talking to her about our defense in court, simple concepts like where to stand or how to speak usually fell on deft ears with her, but no sooner that we started our research into the ‘Equestrian constitutional bylaws and regulations,’ if one wishes to call it that, I realized that she can retain information faster than any computer I have seen; her eidetic memory truly helped in the analysis and we managed to finish preparing our defense in time because of it. Every time I complemented her on something so banal her work, she would sit upright, fold her wings completely backwards, fidget with the holes in her hooves, tilt her head down while looking at me and smile awkwardly as if the creature of her dreams just told her that she is the most beautiful changeling in the universe.
“What are you two planning there?” Shining Armor’s voice immediately broke her smile, adding a shiver to her composure, “Hope it’s not an escape plan,” he jested, his laughter was surprisingly warmer than what I expected, but she immediately broke into a panic. “What’s wrong with her?” The sudden iciness of his voice was chill inducing.
“Pre-murder frights?” I jested. He scoffed. Guess I am the only one with the preferential treatment around here, better be careful if I wish to get her out of here alive at least.
“Here we are,” he exclaimed suddenly while opening a door, the sudden stream of light emanating from that room was blinding to say the least, I was shoved into a bigger cage with Skipper right behind me, only to gawk, “Good luck,” I think he said before closing the door behind him.
Architecturally, the room’s architecture is reminiscent to Greek times with pillars that look straight out of the Acropolis itself, it was semi-circular with a theater in the middle, guards with horns on their heads flanking each of the pillars surrounding the stage. At the center is a large dais with a seat high enough to loom over whomever will be seated in the cage bellow, like a mountain over a hut. The cage itself appears of miniaturized proportions, humble and feeble, degrading in comparison to the splendor surrounding it; I think this is the convict stand, and like all theaters, this one was surrounded with stairs filled to the brim with a crowd of cheering ponies. To say the least, I am in awe.
“Uh, Support Pillar?” Skipper tapped my shoulder.
“What?” I looked at her and she pointed to the little crowd of six changelings that are sharing the cage we were in, all of them staring blankly at me.
I smile back at them, “Greetings everyone, how is your day?”
“HISSSS!”
“Tough crowd,” Well, that could have went better, “Hey Skipper, can you talk to them to see what information we can gather from them?”
Skipper took a step forward, then waved to her fellow changelings who seemed fascinated by her, but just as she was about to speak, "Traitor!” A seventh changeling jumped into view, if I judge by looks alone, she was no different from Skipper or any of the other changeling in the same cage. Looks alone however were rarely my first choice for judgment. Her body language was however on a different plane than the rest of them, and the authority she carried herself with truly set her apart, even from Skipper.
"Lovecraft, please!" Skipper pleaded, "Listen to him, he can get us out."
The changeling known as Lovecraft looked at Skipper with surprise, "Wow drone, rude much? Where is the honorific for addressing a named changeling?"
I blinked, Shining Armor said something about naming changelings, is a changeling's name really that important? I wonder.
"B-but I have a name too!" Skipper defended herself rather weakly I must confess. Maybe I should help her out.
"If it is alright," I stepped in quickly, suddenly all the disapproving eyes were on me, "I wish to help all of you out of this little conundrum."
Lovecraft looked at me as if I was a dirty tablecloth, then scoffed, "As if I will take the help of a Nirvana spawn." She then turned her back and swooshed her tail in my face, "My trial yesterday went perfectly and all that is left is the hearing, I'll be leaving here without your help regardless," Well that was a bust, if Skipper watched her trial yesterday I could benefit from what happened and make a few adjustments. Lovecraft then turned angrily toward Skipper, "Keep your name to yourself, treacherous spawn, if you ever get out of here alive, I'll be sure to torture it out of you then." Yish, talk about hatred.
I wanted to reply to her so dearly, but just then, a guard taped his spear on the ground three times, causing us to stand in attention, “All rise for the honorable head judge Princess Princess Celestia.”
I stared intently at the front door at the end of the stadium, and the moment they opened, my jaw dropped. A very tall, very white, extremely regal pony with both horn and wings entered the court room; she shinned so bright, it was bedazzling to stare at her for too long, and she wasn’t alone, following her was a dark blue pony with the exact same features, although she is smaller than the white one, she is still nonetheless tall.
The white one strode in her imperially refined black judge robe, taking each step as if she was walking on water, and the moment she reached the end of those stairs, she spread her wings and flew toward the dais, landing like a descending archangel from heaven on her seat. The dark blue one wasn't as attracting as her predecessor with her black tailored suit with a cravat of night sky black embroiled with sparkling stars on it, and even though her strides were less mesmerizing than her peer, however, she carried herself with just as much self-worth, taking the prosecutor stand with as much affirmation as a king on his throne.
And in that moment, I was struck with a sense of familiarity that I was not expecting to feel. I know these two ponies, I saw them somewhere, but I can’t put my non existing finger on it.
“Bailiff, please send in Lovecraft to resume her trial,” the highly magnificent judge said breaking my musing. The guard at our little cage nodded, opened the first door, and then shoved the convict out.
And the booing started.
Give the girl some slack would you?
Nonchalantly, Lovecraft took the stance. The judge barely, though assertively, lifted her hoof and the room went eerily silent, “Lovecraft, after considering your defense yesterday, we have reached a conclusion,” she said in an angelic voice. No wonder the ponies' worship her like this, her presence alone can bring a commoner to his knees.
The dark blue one gave a playful smile to the judge, then turned toward the changeling.
The judge took a deep breath, the air suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.
Then suddenly, she screamed with enough passion to melt an iceberg, “Guilty as charged.”
What happened next could only be described in split seconds, each of the guards that shadowed the pillars took a step forward, then they all fired instantaneously blinding beams of light, vaporizing the changeling on the stand before she could even scream.
…
Well.
…
That just happened.
“Is that a good thing?” I heard Skipper asking casually while shacking my shoulder.
I turned around and sneered at her, “What do you think?”