//------------------------------// // Interlude: 'The Bird Is Struggling Out Of The Egg. The Egg Is The World...' // Story: The Rohan Chronicles: The Brand New Day // by Bucking Nonsense //------------------------------// 'Prince' Blueblood sat in front of a collection of mirrors, and once again contemplated how strange his life had become. His power at court had declined drastically, a decline that he suspected had started with the incident at the Gala. How could he have known that the young mare who'd been trying to get on his good side had been one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony? It wasn't as if Auntie Celestia had made that fact public. And then, less than a week later, the bearers had vanquished Discord, and their fame had been transmitted to the world at large. As soon as that had happened, the 'Prince' found had himself deserted by his allies in the court. In less than two weeks, he'd gone from a major player in Equestrian politics... to a 'Prince' in name only. Sometimes, Blue wondered if Celestia had arranged all of that: While no alicorn, Blueblood had possessed as much power in the political arena as Celestia had. So much so that the unicorn 'prince' had been but a few weeks away from beginning a power play that would have reduced Celestia into a figurehead, somepony with authority in name only, while the real power behind the throne would be Blueblood himself. Instead, the tables had turned before the game could even begin... Ironic, that. The sudden ascension of a new princess had only made Blueblood even less relevant than before: After all, what need was there of a prince, when such a capable princess was around, somepony who was able to go hooftip to hooftip with someone as powerful as Tirek? Blueblood was still wealthy, of course, and he still lived within the palace with his aunts in the lap of such opulence that most ponies would bite off their own hooves to enjoy it, but these days, he was such a social leper that even small colts and foals would cross the street to avoid being anywhere near the formerly great aristocrat. While he might one day be able to repair his reputation, such an act would be years in the making, and repairing his power block? It would take decades to create a new block that was even a fraction as powerful as his old one, even if that accursed Rarity suddenly vanished off the face of the planet tomorrow: Memories were surprisingly long in the court of Canterlot, most likely due to how old Celestia and Luna were... But that was why, he supposed, when his new ally appeared Blueblood had all but jumped at the offer. It would take a mighty deed to make the court overlook the 'prince's' past failings, and most mighty deeds were handled by alicorns these days. However, in the world that was to come... "So, how goes things on your end?" a voice from the mirror in front of Blueblood asked, startling him. As his ally would say, 'Speak of the devil, and he shall appear'... The fact that his 'ally' made it look as though his own reflection was speaking the words was just rude, though. "Surprisingly well," Blueblood admitted after a moment. "You were right: The very nature of this... 'Intersection' has done wonders to obscure our machinations. The fact that it coincided with Trickster Day has muddied the waters even further. Everyone belives it to be a prank by... ahem, he who shall not be named, lest we risk gaining his attention. No one suspects it to be anything but an elaborate joke, and will not until the very end." "Good," the voice said with a chuckle. "There are a few individuals on my end who suspect something is up, but no one can even begin to imagine what is about to happen. One of the advantages of a world normally without magic, I suppose." There was a pause, and then the voice said, "Just be ready: All I can give you is an opportunity to reclaim the respect and power that you so desperately crave. I make no guarantees, so if you fail, you'll have no one to blame but yourself." At least he was honest about that, and had been from the start. However, if things went the way that the two of them suspected that they would, the alicorns would suddenly find themselves in a world where they were no longer quite the 'be all, end all' absolute powers that they once were. The world would be plunged into chaos the likes of which even Discord would never imagine possible. A vacuum of power would suddenly form as the alicorns suddenly found their powers drastically lessened... and Blueblood would be the one to fill that void. "Not that I question your honesty," Blueblood began, his gaze intent upon the mirror, "but just what do you get out of all of this?" No one would go to all this trouble without intending to gain something, after all... "That's is a question with a complex answer," the voice said after a moment's pause. "Perhaps one day, we'll have time enough for me to explain it to you. For now, things are moving quickly, and there is no time for lengthy discussions." The prince snorted, then said, "Fine. Then how about a name? You've never bothered to give me one before now." The voice from the mirror laughed, and said, "Very well. 'The bird is struggling out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever wants to be born must first destroy a world. The bird is flying to God. The name of the God is called Abraxas.'" Blueblood's confusion must have shown through the reflection of the mirror, as the voice laughed again and said, "I suppose that your world didn't have Hermann Hesse, or anyone like him. And even if your world did, you don't strike me as the philosophical sort, or the sort interested in the works of those outside your quaint little kingdom. If you must have a name to call me by, though, then call me 'Abraxas'. Now, I must go. Tend to your business, while I finish sorting out mine." And with that, the voice was gone... Blueblood rolled his eyes, and then used his horn to cast a spell, bringing up images on each of the mirrors before him. Being a major mover and shaker in the world of politics had prepared him for all manner of strange bedfellows, and he could honestly say that there were none that he had liked all that much. However, the ones he disliked the most were the ones who were excessively enigmatic, dramatic, or philosophical... and just his luck that his only real ally these days was a combination of all three...