The Price of Wings

by Arcict

Chapter 05: Extended Pageant

The Price of Wings
Chapter: 05
"Extended Edition"

Written by Arcict Gray

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Report: (12/23) 1375 FE (2012 back home)
To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.
CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.
CC: My family, address on file.
CC: Myself, for my own records.
From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

So, back to Ponyville, for today anyway. They’ve set me up in a hotel there. Anyway, I’m staying the night because tomorrow is the day of the play. Ahem, “Pageant” as Dusty, also known as the-busybody-who-never-stops-looking-over-my-shoulder-and-I'm-gonna-cuff-his-nosy-muzzle-if-he-keeps-it-up, has just corrected me, apparently it is not a “play” but a “pageant” and I don’t care what the difference is Dusty!

I also need to get this done because we have a schedule to keep today. I’m going over to a place called The Carousel Boutique to get something a bit more formal than my usual old rag cape/cloak. I mean, I know it’s gaudy and ghetto looking, but it saved my life for crying out loud. Yeah, yeah, I know I hang on to stuff like that but honestly, there isn’t much else here for me to hang on to. Between lacking hands and the general lack of clothes my typical clinginess makes me feel like I’m some kind of monkey amongst otherwise normal people.

It makes me think things, most of which don’t make much sense, even to me, so if you’re curious, tough luck, I’m not writing them. :P
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Cobalt stood rigid and still, as though on pins and needles, in actuality however, the pins and needles were on him.

Rarity, in her usual creative fashion, had gone to work, using Cobalt’s own figure as a kind of living mannequin to save time. As fascinated as Cobalt was with pony magic, the fact that it was being used to push pins into cloth only a few millimeters from his skin was far more stressful than he felt comfortable with.

It was not only tense, it was also boring, between the boredom and the occasional poke he received, Cobalt’s mind burned for something to actually think about, the local gossip was considerably wanting in terms of anything interesting.

“...and I was just so embarrassed I couldn’t bring myself to admit what I’d done, so I just didn’t tell her and hoped I wouldn’t get caught.” Rarity said, continuing the story she’d been telling. It took Cobalt a moment before he realized that she was pausing so as to give his own input.

“Ah,” Cobalt said finally, “so... what, happened?” Cobalt was unsure he’d heard her reach a climactic point in the conversation so he could only presume that she had been building up to it.

“Well, I...” Rarity said, apparently embarrassed by something in the story. “That is, at first things seemed to go alright. Twilight seemed to like the simplicity of the dress and the two parties were happening close enough together that at first I was able to keep up appearances by hopping from one to another...”

Cobalt waited until he realized that Rarity was apparently not finishing the story.

“But...” Cobalt said, careful to try and remain as still as possible, “I presume something happened.”

“I got caught” Rarity admitted, “and of course it all came out then.”

“Typical,” Cobalt said, “trying to keep secrets is usually harder than just admitting things to begin with.”

“Usually, yes” Rarity agreed, discarding another swatch, “hmmm, I don’t like the shade, it’s too dark.”

“I like it dark,” Cobalt responded.

“Nonsense, you’re going to be in the company of the princess!” Rarity exclaimed, “you’ll need to look your royal best!”

“Why?” Cobalt asked, “to impress Celestia? Even if I cared about impressing her, it’s a bit too short-notice to try something that fancy, dontcha think?”

“Oh, well it’s not just for her,” Rarity cautioned, “but for all of Canterlot! Everypony who’s anypony will be there and see you!”

“Not up close they won’t,” Cobalt countered, “we’re not part of her guard, and we’re not escorting her or anything, nopony’s going to see us with her. Even in the booth we’ll be up in a high balcony and too far away for anypony to really see us. Well, properly anyway.”

“Hrrrrrm,” Rarity said under her breath, considering.

“I mean, you can make it look good of course,” Cobalt said quickly, “no sense just slapping some crap together right? and I do like the color, and purples can go with my blue... coat, sorry, I was about to say ‘fur’. But anyway, I’m thinking more blend in rather than stand out.”

There was silence for a moment and the atmosphere seemed to shift slightly, it wasn’t much but there was a definite impression that things were getting serious.

“And you’re sure you don’t want it... fancy?” Rarity tried one last time.

“Yes ma’am, I’m sure.” Cobalt said, his frustration hard to hold back, he hoped his voice sounded ‘firm’ rather than ‘frustrated’.

Cobalt thought he heard Rarity say something like “well enough” as she trotted around, almost absent-mindedly. He couldn’t tell whether her direction had a purpose or not, she seemed to be checking various supplies she had, much as she had been doing just a minute ago, but her sense of urgency and rush was gone.

“What...” Rarity said finally, “are the most important qualities?”

“It is going before the princess,” Dusty said before Cobalt could say anything, “that should be first priority.”

“You get to say that when you’re the pony wearing the needles needed to make it.” Cobalt said. “MY first priority is that it needs to be able to breathe, at least a little. I mean the color is fine, but the second priority should be to keep it simple, something that’s not going to trip me up while I’m walking; truth be told I’m still kind of new at it so anything that can avoid complicating my coordination is crucial. As for colors... maybe something dark-ish would work well enough, lighter highlights to counter the shade but...”

“Hmmm, Gold clashes with the blue...” Rarity said musing.

“..aaand I’ve always preferred silver over gold...?” Cobalt said, uncertain if Rarity had been speaking to him or just to herself.

“Hmmm,” Rarity mused again.

“So, maybe a little something different for the highlights,” Cobalt said, trying to keep up with where he thought her train of thought was going, “and the rest should... I dunno, make itself? Oh, and it’ll need to cover my flank, I still don’t have a cutie-mark so I want to avoid that embarrassment.”

“Highlights... different how?” Rarity mused, but answered herself before Cobalt or Dusty could say anything. “Color, it needs a splash of color, blue and purple or... indigo?”

It took Cobalt a moment before he realized that Rarity was looking at him, she had intended the question towards him.

“Sure...” Cobalt said, trying not to let the sudden shifts in who she was talking to jar him. Rarity seemed to be taking this much more seriously than he was, “I mean, I’ve usually preferred colors favoring the blue-end than not. Cool colors.”

“It’s settled then,” Rarity said with finality.

“Um,” Dusty said, fairly confused by the conversation, “I’m sorry but, what’s settled?”

“Basic vest, I’ll need a fabric that can breathe... and a cape for the flank.” Rarity said, mostly to herself, she turned her head to face a shelf from which she lifted rolls of fabric with her telekinesis and brought them, one by one, close so she could examine them. “Indigo, just a hair darker than the coat, silver-white trim, and aqua highlights. Now, what shape should... Ah! Idea!”

For a moment Cobalt was afraid this ‘idea’ would result in even more pins. He was relieved therefore when he felt the bits of cloth and needles begin to slide away off of him and move, hovering in the air as Rarity’s magic took them. Cobalt, almost on instinct got down from the dais, relieved to be away from all the needles.

“So,” Dusty said, “about how much should this cost?”

Rarity turned to look at him suddenly, as though being pulled out of thought, a strange look on her face, as though conflicted about something.

“Dude,” Cobalt said, partially under his breath and maneuvering around Dusty as though to herd him out towards the boutique’s entrance, “not with the numbers, not when she’s creating.”

Outside Dusty’s mood turned south slightly.

“I usually prefer to know what I’m buying, and specifically how much it costs,” Dusty said, “preferably sometime before actually buying it.”

“Yeah, yeah” Cobalt said, “I do too, but seriously? She’s an artist, right brain, creative thinking, abstract concepts like shapes and connections and patterns and the like, asking her about numbers and money is... is like... I dunno, I need a good analogy. It’s like trying to turn left and right at the same time.”

They spent much the rest of the day touring Ponyville, that is, Cobalt spent much of the day touring Ponyville. Dusty spent the time trailing Cobalt and trying to drill into him their schedule as well as the importance of etiquette. Cobalt, despite his hoof being wrapped for both structural and thermal support, did his best to stay off of it, resulting in him often doing a slight limp as he walked.

“Dude,” Cobalt said after the umpteenth mention of their schedule, “if I make a mistake I’ll just apologize and leave it at that.”

“That, is a good way to get on somepony’s bad side,” Dusty argued, “if you want to go hobnobbing it with the rich and powerful you need to make it look like you belong there!”

“I don’t belong there, and I don’t want to go hobnobbing either.” Cobalt breathed in near exasperation and turning to face Dusty directly, “And a good thing too, back home I could barely stand dressing up, I could NEVER stand the idea of needing to wear them all the time! And all that just to impress some pony?! Totally not worth it! And even so, I’m just somepony that got invited, that doesn’t mean I belong there.”

“You...” Dusty said, uncertain how to respond, looking almost hurt by Cobalt’s remark. “You seem to have made up your mind about that. How do you know you won’t like it later on? I mean, you’re a special ambassador in the biggest and most secretive project I’ve ever seen Princess Celestia undertake! Why do you think you won’t someday be... well, be somepony?!”

“Because I’m me,” Cobalt said, approaching Dusty until their faces were mere inches apart, “I’m not greedy, I’m not ambitious, I’m not manipulative, tyrannical, or megalomaniacal, and I see nothing for me in any of this. The most I want from powerful people is for them to leave me the heck alone, is that too much to ask?...

...And what’s more is that it’s impossible anyway. The powerful have one trend. That trend is isolation and control, they isolate those in power so that nobody can use them to get into power, and they use that isolation to control others with power. Those with power will, sooner or later, seek absolute power, or if they cannot get it, will seek to ensure that nobody else can get any either...

...If left unchecked, it leads to either a peak or a plateau of the most powerful, with the rest underneath them. The only reason why this is challenged is because Celestia IS the peak already, not just in power, but in loyalty, anypony, heck, anyTHING with delusions of grandeur will need to factor in how they’re going to maintain power over a nation that is in open rebellion against them...

...So, we have a single, simple and un-ambitious pony, that you’re encouraging to try and impress these... powerful ponies, to insert myself into this game of politics and manipulation, greed and ambition, and... do what with it exactly? Win somehow? No, we both know, that’s not a game I’m going to win. Winning it would require a very focused mind, would require manipulations on multiple levels, multiple betrayals and seductions of many kinds of folks, and all to win a game that Celestia herself has proven to be moot anyway...

...So yeah, that’s a game that I do not need nor WANT to play.”

Dusty wasn’t sure how to take this, he was too stunned by the sudden change in Cobalt’s attitude. He was also stunned because of the expectations he’d had for Cobalt, certainly after having lived in such simple and painfully plain conditions with some Earth Pony farmers Cobalt would desire for the Canterlot life again. But this, this was completely unexpected, and the sudden shift from Dusty’s expectations to this new reality had left him with his head almost spinning. Not just expectations, but several plans had also been dashed to pieces as well.

“Y... you’re standing in the middle of the road.” Dusty said nervously, he wasn’t scared of Cobalt, but Cobalt’s current state of mind had made him feel very uncertain of himself.

Cobalt glanced around; he was indeed in the middle of the road, though you wouldn’t know it for the lack of traffic at the moment.

“So I am,” Cobalt declared as if saying something that was news, and he left on down the road. Still partially confused, Dusty hurried to keep up as they continued the tour of Ponyville.

Even in winter Ponyville was practically a hub of activity. True, Cobalt reminisced, it wasn’t nearly as buzzing as Canterlot had been the last time he’d been there, but if Ponyville was still this active during winter Cobalt could barely imagine how busy Canterlot was right now. Padded and insulated saddles and scarves were the norm, as were the snowball fights. Twice Cobalt and Dusty had to keep a low profile to avoid getting dragged into them as they passed by.

“So,” Cobalt asked as they continued, the sun slowly creeping its way down to the horizon. “Ya think we’ve got time to catch a matinée or something?”

“No,” Dusty said, looking at the sky. “Truth be told we should really go back to the boutique and see if your ensemble is ready.”

“Really?” Cobalt said, also looking up, “it’s gotta be only mid-afternoon, we’ve got time, don’t we?”

“Not really,” Dusty replied, “you forget the sun goes down more quickly during the winter, we’ve only got an hour or so before it gets dark. Is it so different on your world?”

“No,” Cobalt mused, remembering and inwardly cursing himself for making such an easy slip, of course he knew, days in winter were shorter than during the summer.

“So, what have we got time for then?” Cobalt asked.

“We have time to get back to the boutique.” Dusty replied dryly.

“Fine,” Cobalt sighed, resigning to the fact that their fun-day was over. He was also resigning to needing to go back to ‘the place with all the needles’ which made his gait all the slower. If there was one thing that encouraged him to go back, his hoof was starting to feel numb, urging him to get to somewhere warmer.

Rarity, despite how short their trip exploring Ponyville had been, was indeed finished. It was a sharp vest, of a proud indigo color, sporting silver trim that, though it seemed a little too bright for Cobalt’s taste, yet he said nothing, it was fine. The front of the vest sported a crest featuring a pair of feathered wings, light turquoise in color, above the wings hovered a single white halo pierced through the center by a lightning-bolt. The cape attached at the shoulders and flowed to his tail where it split and trailed halfway down his hind-legs, covering his flanks. The cape was a flowing color gradient, starting with a snow-turquoise along his back and head and flowing to a deep jungle-green at the tails. Where the cutie-mark would be the cape featured the same wing/halo/bolt crest.

“Cool!” was all Cobalt could say.

“Which pageant are you planning to attend?” Rarity asked, returning supplies and tools of the trade back to their proper places.

“The… er, Hearth’s Warming one… I think.” Cobalt said, having never had a good memory for names.

“Oh!” Rarity exclaimed. “I remember being in that one! An abbreviated one of course.”

“A… abbreviated?” Cobalt asked.

“Well of course,” Rarity said, matter-of-factly “there are so many plays that get performed, especially in the most popular theaters, to accommodate more plays they abbreviate them. Hearth’s Warming Eve is especially easy because it has an ending that is fairly self-contained. The abbreviated play only focuses on the end, where the three tribes are already at odds with each other and…”

“Perhaps,” Dusty interrupted, “it would be better to avoid any spoilers?”

“Oh! Oh yes of course.” Rarity said, “I’m sorry, it is just rather rare to meet somepony who hasn’t seen the pageant before.”

“That’d explain why Celestia wants me to see it.” Cobalt said, “if every-pony has already done so it’s probably a decent staple in Equestrian society.”

“It would certainly help to give a good background about Equestria.” Dusty said, “but be ready for a boring thing, most have seen the full version, but they only see that one once, they usually watch the abbreviated ones deliberately. It’s so long you see.”

That night Cobalt tried contrasting the hotel to the old farm. His room at the farm was comfortable and familiar but small, his hotel room was larger but sterile and professional, too artificial for his taste. Even so, he made the best of it and slept well, getting up early enough that they easily made the train to Canterlot. The train was a dedicated passenger train which meant that it traveled faster and took a sharper curved route than cargo-trains. True, some cargo trains carried passengers, but their route took longer because they traveled slower so as to avoid anything bad happening to the cargo.

Canterlot, turned out to be just as bustling as Cobalt had guessed. It was compact enough that residential, commercial and governmental buildings could all be found on the same city block. Everywhere in the snow were signs of festivities, from the 8-foot candy canes (which Cobalt soon discovered could actually be of almost any length, 8-foot was just the standard name), the small snow-buildings and structures that usually only remained standing by the magic of their makers, and there were various decorations all around the streets and buildings.

As before with his time in Canterlot, Cobalt got the distinct impression of being the odd-pony-out, there were so many unicorns and so few earth-ponies. At least in Ponyville there seemed a more even distribution, if anything the earth-ponies outnumbered the others. It was much more distinct here though, the earth-ponies couldn’t fly and neither could he for now, but he’d never be able to use magic like they did here, what was more they used so much of it that it just felt like a kind of handicap not having it.

“How is the city held up?” Cobalt asked Dusty as they made their way through the bustling streets and hoping for a distraction.

“Not sure,” Dusty said, “I know that the foundations came from Cloudsdale though.”

“Cloudsdale came before Canterlot?!” Cobalt asked.

“Yes,” Dusty said, “Cloudsdale is one of the oldest settlements in Equestria. In fact, if I recall correctly, the full version of the pageant should show the beginnings of how Cloudsdale got started.”

“Spoilers?” Cobalt said, realizing that Dusty had left the explanation kind of hanging.

“Not… really,” Dusty said. “I mean, yeah it’s kinda telling but…”

“Well, if I recall correctly,” Cobalt said “it is how Equestria got started, kinda a spoiler to say that it ended with, well, Equestria.”

Dusty laughed lightly. “True. Really it ends with a resolution to the main conflict, that resolution is what resulted in Equestria”

“So, still not all of the story per se’ ” Cobalt said.

“Taken that way, there never is an all of the story really” Dusty said.

“True enough,” Cobalt said.

“Sufficed to say,” Dusty said. “Shortly after the events the Pageant depicts, the leaders started looking for suitable places to populate around Equestria. When Princess Celestia and Princess Luna took power, they took a small town that they both favored and made their palace there. But when… actually, I’m not sure why, well, after Nightmare Moon attacked Celestia needed a new palace so they built Canterlot.”

“Which was some time after Cloudsdale was built,” Cobalt concluded for him, keeping up.

“Yes,” Dusty confirmed. "In fact, as I recall, Canterlot was renamed when it became the capitol."

Lord Ennui Heilmittle's Hall and Theater featured two main areas, the first was a large and tall horseshoe-shaped hall that nearly surrounded the main auditorium. The hall was large enough that it easily held vendors who took up spots here and there, gatherings in corners and booths for information or to sell tickets and give away brochures advertising upcoming events. Not that the brochures were any good, there were posters everywhere already advertising everything worth looking at. Everywhere Cobalt looked, there was something to see.

As they entered Cobalt got an even deeper impression of not belonging and realized why Rarity was so keen on making his vestments as best as she could. Everyone was wearing stuff MUCH more impressive then himself. Even as uneducated in the schools of fashion as he was he could still see how out-classed his simple vest was. Even some of the servants who bustled about everywhere seemed to be wearing better attire than his.

They were greeted by four armor-clad guard ponies. Seeing them reminded Cobalt of an unanswered question he’d had for some time.

“Why are the guard-ponies always a kind of white or gray?” Cobalt asked.

Nobody answered.

“Some kind of disease?” Cobalt continued, “something incurable but difficult to catch?”

“There are several of the nobility who have relatives amongst the guards.” Dusty said as they proceeded together, “to prevent them from being singled out or targeted the armor was enchanted so that they all look the same at first glance.”

“Why? What makes them so special?” Cobalt asked aloud.

At that, one of their escorts actually stopped, open mouthed and aghast, as though he’d been personally insulted.

“And that, students,” Cobalt said, turning his head to indicate the stopped guard “is how you get a noble pony to reveal himself in the crowd, even when part of his job is to remain incognito.”

Dusty held back a snicker, and the stopped guard sputtered and hurried to keep up with the rest.

The entourage stopped as a considerably larger procession crossed their path. This larger procession seemed to be centered upon a single pony of some considerable importance. He was so heavily surrounded that Cobalt could scarcely catch a glimpse of him. His closest escorts though were decked out in gold and an exquisite shade of purple of some very fine material, the sheer magnificence thereof made Cobalt blink, trying to see the material itself. Finally he realized that he simply couldn’t see the material, like it was enchanted to look that way regardless of what it was actually made of. No wonder Rarity was so worried about how to look in Canterlot if they were all cheating like this. With that kind of magic they could have made it out of cheap crap and it'd still look wondrous and mystic.

“Who is that?” Cobalt asked Dusty when the procession seemed far enough to be out of earshot.

“That would be Prince Blueblood” Dusty said casually.

“Prince?” Cobalt said, confused. “I was under the impression that there were only princesses in Equestria.”

“Well, the princesses are the ruling authority,” Dusty said, his certainty waning a little “but… I’m pretty sure that ‘prince’ is just an honorary title. I know it doesn’t grant any additional ruling authority or anything.”

“Honorary title?” Cobalt said, confused. “How could… I mean, you have one side that only gets to be a princess by means of being a whole different race, but for princes it’s just some throwaway ‘honorary title’? Seriously?”

“Well,” Dusty said, “I think it’s because there are no alicorn princes. I’m pretty sure if there were then ‘prince’ wouldn’t be an honorary title anymore. And it’s not just ‘some throwaway title’ either, I gather there are several steps necessary to earn it.”

They proceeded into a comparatively narrow hallway that arced around the main auditorium, the inside curve of which featured the occasional stairway up to the next floor. The second floor had booths that connected directly to the hallway, usually with only an ornate rope to designate ‘room’ from ‘hallway’.

The third floor was much like the second except that it was notably stuffier, the rooms were fewer and larger. The hallway connecting the rooms was also wider than on the floor below, despite this, there were so many servants and attendants bustling everywhere that it actually felt a little cramped at times and even their small entourage was occasionally forced to a stop-and-go pace . It wasn’t just ponies either, Though Cobalt had never properly seen a griffon he couldn’t help but think that some of the snatches and glimpses he managed to catch might have been of a griffon or two, it was so busy he couldn’t get a good enough look to properly tell.

*Probably dignitaries from other lands, this is Canterlot after all.* Cobalt thought to himself *I need to treat this place like it’s DC and keep my wits about me.*

Finally they reached another stairway, this one looked brand-new despite its décor being somewhat old-fashioned, as though it had rarely been used.

There were few rooms indeed up here and each one was lavishly furnished with customized styles. The halls and floor itself was a deep reddish-kind of velvet feeling-thing that tickled his hooves it was so soft. Some of the rooms had utilized a kind of temporary wall for privacy, others did not, preferring to keep the way open and clear so servants could come and go as they needed.

They arrived at their room. It featured the standard red velvet carpet and dark hardwood wall but the pillows, chairs and other décor featured clear white and golden yellow. Cobalt felt about as out-of-place as a rough-hewn pebble would be flying amongst the clouds. Everything seemed so immaculate and clean and he couldn’t feel but dirty and improper even being here. He saw Princess Celestia was seated amongst several pillows near the edge overlooking the auditorium proper, seeing her there, regal and grand, only increased his sense of inadequacy.

“Please, sit.” Celestia said, indicating with a wing a clear area of floor to her left.

Hesitantly, Cobalt approached the indicated area and sat down. He took in his surroundings again, he was close enough to the edge of the balcony and railing that he could easily see out into the auditorium. Now the full effect of the shape came into view.

At first, Cobalt was taken aback, there was no way that an auditorium of this size could fit in the size allotted by the curve of the hall. Then Cobalt saw it, it wasn’t that the auditorium was too big, it was that there were too many things to see so it felt larger than it really was.

The auditorium proper had booths lining the walls along the back and sides. The booths at the top were fewer and larger while the ones lower were smaller and more compact. The only well-lit area was the stage itself, indeed, the wooden floor below looked like chocolate it was so dark. Ponies everywhere were either seated, or getting to their seats. Oddly, the most rambunctious of the areas was the second-floor booths where young ponies were often seen signaling or talking to each other from booth to booth, the separation between rooms forcing them to almost yell to be heard. These were soon hushed by their elders and corralled to their seats.

*that’s more my style* Cobalt thought, *isolated enough they can’t bother me, but close enough I can be with the people I want to be with...*

Cobalt’s mood lowered as he came to realize just how few people there were on that list. He turned away from the second-floor and tried to pay attention to the rest of the theater, the booths were set up in an almost nest-like fashion, very cozy and probably comfortable. As it was, if Cobalt had set up this place himself he’d either go for more or less coziness, as it was he was in just that bad medium, too comfortable not to lay down, too uncomfortable to actually risk dozing off.

In all it reminded Cobalt of how old-school theaters in Shakespeare’s time, the cheap seats were right up next to the stage because the commoners were there to be entertained by the play. But the expensive seats were further back, the nobles and royalty were there to be entertained by the commoners below rather than by the play itself. For a moment Cobalt wondered if they were close enough to even hear the events of the play.

It was then that he saw how many other ponies and even non-ponies in the higher booths were either looking at him or were otherwise occasionally glancing his way. Cobalt retreated a bit from the railing.

*why am I here* Cobalt thought *I don’t belong here. If anything I belong down there with the rest of them.*

Cobalt’s attention was drawn to the princess but she was busy speaking with Dusty, who soon retreated and left the room.

“Is he not…?” Cobalt began.

“He will be viewing this with several others in their own room,” Celestia said simply.

“I should be with them,” Cobalt said plainly.

“This is one of the most important things that I have asked you to do.” Celestia said, “today, you learn more about our history than any of your previous researches or questions have ever shown you before.”

Cobalt had to think about this a bit, then he remembered how old she was.

“Were you there?” Cobalt asked.

“No,” Celestia said “this was well before my time… but… I know there were some… parts… that either got left out or… were just ignored… even so it is… accurate enough.”

Celestia seemed to have trailed off and Cobalt knew that he’d touched something deep. Turning back to the auditorium Cobalt hoped the play would start soon, if only to serve as a distraction from Celestial’s troubles; Cobalt could only imagine how many painful memories she’d had time to gather.

Celestia regarded Cobalt’s curiosity with the auditorium, his anticipatory anxiousness as he waited for the pageant to begin; remembering how many she had seen come and go with that same youthful exuberance.

Several minutes later and the lights started dimming, this ushered in a new wave of silence and “shhh”-ing that further silenced the young and the boisterous…

A single pony trotted up onto the stage, illuminated by a spotlight. She struck a striking figure, her bright, almost jester-like apparel contrasting with the dark and muted plum-maroon of the stage curtain behind her.

“Throughout the ages, there have always been struggles; struggles for survival, for goods, for lands, for rights and privileges. But some struggles are born of nothing more than strife and misunderstanding; some struggles that came to be for no reason other than because nopony could agree. Some struggles are born not of need, but of fear, and hatred.”

Cobalt noticed that much of the audience gave an audible gasp.

*These ponies are really foreign to evil, aren’t they,* Cobalt thought.

“Our story begins in the Trottinglands…”

Cobalt noticed an audible groan and several murmurings, even louder than the previous gasp, rippling through the audience. There were even a few not-so-quiet protests amongst the various balconies. They were loud enough that the narrator even paused for a brief moment.

“…Which was originally populated by unicorns along the ridge near the Whither-Spoon mountain range. Originally, the three tribes were their own separate peoples, all of which had troubles. The Pegasi, forgoing claiming or owning any land or arable territory, took to the clouds, using their skills to either forage or raid food from other nations and provinces. This led to their numbers being led by military leaders and gave them a reputation as violent thieves and bandits.”

More groans and grumbles from the crowd, lower this time though.

“The Unicorns, in an effort to maintain solidarity, defended themselves with their magic, studying and practicing. Because magical study in those days was new and dangerous there were many mistakes and keeping up with the collateral became expensive. To make up for this, they employed a system where experimenting mages would be accompanied and funded by a single powerful ruler, that could pay for the damages, and profit from the benefits directly.

The Earth Ponies however were more divided and often wandered the world in herds and familial camps. Eventually, most of them were captured and put to work by other beings, using their strength and stamina for hard labor.

Eventually, Unicorns and the Pegasi discovered each other and agreed to a mutual co-existence. The Unicorns would pay the Pegasi to guard their borders. This allowed the Unicorns to focus their efforts on study and trade, not needing to worry about national defense. In return, the pegasi would not be hunted by those they lived near, having never raided from the unicorns and thus, having no quarrel with them. This union, however, had a fault. The Pegasi needed food which they could only get from raiding. To help the union meet this demand, the two tribes decided that they could solicit the aid of the Earth Ponies, several of which were natural farmers and cultivators of the land.

For two generations the triple union has managed, sometimes uneasily, sometimes beautifully. Which is where our story begins…”

At the mention of “for two generations” another ripple of grumbles ran through the crowd but Cobalt soon turned his attention to the curtains which had begun parting as the narrator crossed to the side just in front of the stage, visible if she had anything to say, but not in the way of the actors.

The scene opened up with a single old looking but regally dressed Earth Pony sat in the center, a blanket over his shoulders. Just left (house-left) of the first was a second, younger and less decorated Earth Pony.

“listening Ear” Said the blanketed pony, obviously trying not to cough while doing so.

“My Lord Silica?” Said the other.

“Hear me this day,” said Lord Silica, coughing afterward. “We have been here for many years now. The alliance has purchased, rescued or downright stolen many Earth Pony slaves and brought them here. For me, it was several years ago, but my time in the mines of the great shoe-nail caves have caused me to suffer from this infernal quartz-lung.”

Lord Silica coughed again. Cobalt, his suspension of disbelief momentarily collapsing, wondered if someone actually suffering from a lung disease of any kind could actually get out a chunk of words that large. Then he realized that this was still part of the introduction and just let it alone.

“I do not for one minute,” Lord Silica said hoarsely, “believe that our… benefactors… are anything better than slave-masters themselves. They brought us here to work and that’s it, we work for them, we get our so-called freedom. But what is that freedom if we need to work for them to have it?”

“At least they are kind masters” Listening Ear said, “one could hardly call them masters at all, allowing us to have our own independent government and all.”

“That…” Lord Silica coughed again “does not mean that we can trust any of them!”

At this, four more entered the stage from the left, one Pegasus leading and three Earth Ponies behind.

“General Graywind.” Listening Ear greeted.

“Three more clans freed from the Minotaurs, that should be all of them for now.” General Graywind responded, as he did so the three passed behind him and the other two and moved to exit the right of the stage (house right). “there is room for them in the Eastern fields.”

General Graywind remained quiet, as if awaiting Lord Silica to reply. Lord Silica instead merely coughed and nodded.

“On a personal note” General Graywind resumed. “I do hope that is the last we have to free for a while. Every influx of slaves... or rather, former slaves, increases the lands we must guard; expanding our borders requires more border-guards, which we can scarce afford or somehow cut the numbers we use for these rescue-missions.

Lord Silica merely looked at him and coughed a few times. After a few moments, he nodded.

The stage lights dimmed some and the ponies on the stage froze in place. The entire stage slid slowly, shifting the ponies in the middle to the side and eventually offstage entirely, as it did so, a structure of some kind appeared from the opposite side and moved until it took up half of the stage. When the lights came back on Cobalt could see that, based on the structure, and the background, the right hand was meant to be the inside of a castle or some similar structure. Then Cobalt saw what definitely looked like a king, a Unicorn with a crown sitting on a thrown, and another dressed like a clown, bells and all, a few steps below the dais the throne stood upon.

“Starswirl the Bearded, you have come at last,” Said the crowned pony.

“As quickly as I could King Gold” said the bell-bearing pony.

“This latest influx of Earth Ponies worries me” said King Gold, “every new influx of slaves changes and strains the economy. It’s not just grazing land they need, it’s jobs.”

“What jobs could Earth Ponies fill?” asked the bell pony.

“A lot!” King Gold exclaimed, “just about every job out there, anything that doesn’t specifically require magic, they can do! Anything that doesn’t require being in the air, they can fill it! Anything that isn’t restricted strictly for royalty, they can perform it!”

“Surely they cannot perform all jobs better than us,” asked the bell-laden pony.
“You would be surprised then,” answered King Gold, “they’re just as skilled as they claim to be. It’s just like they said, this mark is like a compass of one’s own skills and best abilities!”

“Was it a bad thing that they shared it with us then?” asked the belled pony.

There was a short moment of silence as King Gold seemed to contemplate this.

“No,” King Gold answered. “The Cutie Mark was and is one of the deepest and most important aspects of life to them. It is a symbol of how they managed to survive the brutality of their times as slaves. The mines and tombs were so distressing that many of them lost all hope and identity. It got so bad at times that some would simply stare at a wall and stand there until they died on their hooves. When their taskmasters learned of the self-identity power the Cutie-Mark holds they gladly let them share its power amongst ALL of the slaves, if only to help them live longer. That they have shared it with us is a great and powerful symbol.”

“But, is it only a symbol?” asked the bell-pony.

“No,” King Gold said, “no, of this I am sure. But if you have further questions about it, you will get your chance to ask them, at the tribunal.”

“The tribunal…” mused the bell-saddled-pony “isn’t that this week?”

“In three days’ time,” said King Gold. “Then, all complaints and worries can be expressed in full. I have all confidence that this tribunal will help to strengthen the alliances and solidify the union.”

The stage went dark and a spotlight shined down on the narrator.

“And so it was, in three days’ time, the three tribes each held a summit to express, consider, and resolve their problems. King Gold, king and leader of the Unicorns; General Graywind, commander of the Pegasi; and Lord Silica, leader of the Earth Ponies.”

The stage had shifted yet again, this time the “palace” or “castle” took up the entire stage, what had been the “throne” of the king had lost its backrest and become the table around which the three rulers were now seated. In attendance but holding back were three other ponies, Cobalt recognized the bell laden pony, as well as Listening Ear and a Pegasus he did not recognize.

“And that is the state of the affairs of the union it seems” King gold said.

“I still feel uneasy about this ‘gem mine’ of yours,” said Lord Silica. “Too many of my ponies have slaved” *cough* “away in darkened tunnels filled with nothing but riches and despair.”

“You have my word,” said King Gold “naught but those willing and talented shall enter those mines. I shall force NOpony into servitude. Not the least of which it would cause this very alliance to crumble and itself come to naught. And what then are we profit?”

“Indeed,” said Lord Silica.

“I too have… not a grievance so much as… a concern,” General Graywind said. “Several of my Pegasi are… anxious, they want to maintain the old ways and keep up the old ‘wild and ferocious pegasi’ traditions. The problem is, they are right, we are stretched thin. We are given a double duty we can scarcely keep up with. In the first place we must defend the borders, easily enough done with our… traditions… but in the second place, we must also maintain the weather for what is becoming an increasingly agrarian union. Not that I wish to blame anypony but… both jobs are becoming increasingly demanding with the more ponies we get, swelling the nation. The job is nigh impossible to maintain and if it gets any harder… we shall simply have to employ some other tribe or race into the union to keep up with the demands.”

“I appreciate your unwillingness to ‘blame anypony’ for this difficulty of yours,” Lord Silica said carefully.

“This problem is not your fault,” General Graywind said, turning to him directly. “Would that we had greater numbers ourselves, this wouldn’t even be a concern. If any… thing… is to be blamed it is those slavers and taskmasters forcibly breeding and-“

“-That… will do,” King Gold interrupted. “I have assurances that one of the next major focuses of study will be both wind and weather-manipulation as well as defensive magics. Both of which should aid you on both fronts. I dare not assume that we shall make any breakthroughs enough to entirely replace the need for your pegasi in any one vein though, that would be incredible. However I do believe that, within the next five years or so, you should get the assistance you desire.”

“That… well, the only concern left is whether there is likely to be any… large influx… before then.” General Graywind said, again turning from King Gold to Lord Silica.

“Doubtful,” said Lord Silica. “The few remaining Earth Pony slaves are small in number and scattered amongst several nations and although they are… theoretically… within reaching distance… I hate to say it myself, for it is cold and cruel, but the cost of each… raid… they are just too few, and too scattered to risk anything right now. I believe that the best means would be to simply remain in peace and build up the economy that we might simply buy them from their masters rather than do so by raiding.”

“Slowing their influx and buying us time,” General Graywind concluded. “Well, nopony said that these tribunals resulted in perfect resolutions, but at least now we have a plan.”

“Indeed,” said King Gold.

The stage went dark again, this time Cobalt picked up a feint but audible grinding and an intermittent squeak coming from the stage, a gear needed oil or a belt needed tightening, maybe both. When the lights came back on, the stage was set to a considerably different scene. A small green hill with a tree and a few stones drawn on the background… only, the colors were faded slightly and the tree was barren and, Cobalt now saw, they weren’t ordinary stones, they were tombstones. A slight mist clung to the ground on the stage, what had once been a scene of hope, had now changed to a very different tone.

A procession of no less than four unidentified ponies slowly marched from the left towards a particularly misty and dark part of the stage on the right, following behind them were four more. Whereas the first four were all arrayed in identical black and gray, the second four maintained individual color schemes, despite also being arrayed in muted dark ensembles, they were all Earth Ponies.

“Pointy Head, Big Head,” said the last pony to arrive on stage, the two immediately in front of him turned and paused in the procession, the one just beyond blithely ignoring the call.

“Yes Square Head?” said the one closest, “what is it?”

“It’s just… father always said we need to trust in the alliance,” Square Head said. “And I’m not sure that I can.”

“You don’t worry about that,” said one of the two that Square Head had addressed, of them his hat was the biggest, “I’ll be taking charge when they come to call on a new Minister.”

“Whatever you say Big Head,” said the one between Square Head and Big Head. “But last I checked you were even behind Flat Head in terms of popularity.”

“You stuff it Pointy Head!” Big Head exclaimed.

“Can you three keep it down?” Flat Head asked, turning to face the other three, “we’re having a funeral here!”

The other three remained silent while the first four ponies proceeded with the funeral, eventually lowering their burden into what Cobalt could have sworn was a fairly shallow hole. Somehow the casket fit and disappeared into the hole despite the latter only appearing to be inches deep and the casket being well over a foot in height.

“There is one thing that we do prove, just by being here though,” Pointy Head said.

“What’s that?” Big Head asked.

“Just as we are, so too are the Unicorns only one generation away from reneging on their deal and treating us all as slaves and servants,” Pointy Head said.

“I just hope,” Square Head said , “that it doesn’t mean a return of the ‘quartz-lung’ plague.”

The three were silent as they all turned to the hole the casket was in. Two of the casket bearers had left to the right and were returning, rolling a large stone before them. Upon the stone was etched the words…

“Here lies…
LORD SILICA
The last victim of the mines”

“Goodbye father” said Flat Head mournfully, though surprisingly loud for a mournful statement, as he turned and joined his brothers.

This time the lights didn’t dim at all as the stage moved slightly, shifting the four casket bearers out of the stage to the right and shifting the four brothers to the right edge of the stage. As they did so, General Graywind and two other pegasi shifted onto stage from the left, all sitting on clouds, overlooking the mourners.

“So much for the promises of Unicorns,” said one of the ponies escorting the General. “They promised us an ‘ease of life’ within five years, promising us to supplement our efforts with their magic within five years.”

“That was seven years ago,” General Graywind said gravely.

The Pegasi were silent, and the stage moved again, this time the brothers were shifted off stage and the pegasi were stuck on the right of the stage. Entering from the left as the stage moved were no less than 4 Unicorns, all fabulously adorned, though also in mourning garb. One, the only one wearing a crown, stepped forward towards a burial chamber.

“For all the work we have put into this alliance,” Said the crowned pony, “we have not had a moment’s rest even to bury my father until now, when they bury Lord Silica.”

“Princess Platinum,” said one of the attendees, approaching her. “We delay too long, there are matters of the state that need urgent attention.”

“URGENT ATTENTION?!” Princess Platinum almost screamed, rounding on the pony that had spoken. “My father is DEAD! My court magician has disappeared with some wild magic of his own making, years, decades, maybe CENTURIES of work are now gone! And you trifle me with matters of the state?! Come to me tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, next generation when it is I laying in that tomb, THEN you may come before me with matters of the state. But for today, either let it wait or let it burn, whichever the state and it’s matters may prefer.”

The pony that had approached recoiled. Another stepped forward and turned on the others, this one was wearing, amongst the muted and dark, a deep green cloak.

“Away with you, Queen Platinum wishes to be alone right now,” said the green-clad pony.

The scene persisted until the other ponies had left.

“Thank you Clover,” said Princess Platinum solemnly.

The stage went dark again,

When the lights came back on, Cobalt could see the three pegasi, hovering some distance above the stage floor, occasionally a chunk of mist would drift by from the left to the right. Cobalt understood, this was meant to simulate them flying forward, while remaining within view of the audience. One of the pegasi he recognized as General Graywind. The other two seemed to have their own distinct motifs, one was had light armor and it seemed extra padded for some reason; the other was only clothed with boots a cape and a helmet.

“I’m sure they’re around here somewhere,” said General Graywind.

“I’m not sure sir,” said the padded Pegasus.

“I’ve never heard of any Earth Ponies living this far out here,” said the caped Pegasus.

“They’re out there, and it’s our job to protect them,” said General Graywind.

“But why sir?” asked the caped Pegasus.

General Graywind flew ahead of them and turned around, blocking their path.

“look at us, what are we?” General Graywind asked.

“Umm, pegasi?” said the padded Pegasus.

“We’re three of a kind,” said General Graywind. “A Lancer, a Swoop and a Thunderer. We all have different specialties and work in different ways, but no one of us alone could ever win a battle.”

The other two stopped to think about that.

“A Lancer can attack enemies directly but with heavy armor and weapons can only hope to hold out for so long before he tires,” General Graywind said. “A Swoop can attack and take out enemies one at a time without detection but cannot deal with too many at once. A Thunderer can specialize in using the weather to take out large groups, or generate it locally to take out smaller ones. The Lancers are like the Earth Ponies, strong and good in a fight. The Thunderers are like the mages of the Pegasi, they’re like the Unicorns in a way. The Swoops are like us, the Pegasi of the alliance.”

They all paused for a moment, though Cobalt noticed that the ‘clouds’ were still moving across the stage, the words “oops, staging error” playing through his mind.

“So yeah, the Unicorns couldn’t help us like they said,” General Graywind said. “But you know what? I don’t care, because that’s not their job. Their job is to keep the economy from collapsing and occasionally helping us with their magic if they can. I mean, they don’t even have a lord or any super powerful leader and they STILL managed to stabilize the sun and moon in this land! We don’t NEED them to help with either the weather or the defense.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“I was invited to a wedding,” said General Graywind. “It was between a Pegasus and an Earth Pony. It was unprecedented, unheard of, it was… eye opening. I realized that there was only one reason I’d never seen it happen before, distrust. I finally came to realize that the distrust we have is what’s been holding us back all this time. We’ve always struggled, always faced challenges, that hasn’t changed since joining the union. But after joining we’ve been at each other’s throats, blaming each other and believing that one tribe or another is not pulling their own weight. But why? Again, we’ve ALWAYS faced challenges, so why should this be any different? Distrust.”

“So, if we get rid of our distrust…?” said the padded Pegasus.

“And… everything’s better?” said the caped Pegasus.

“No, not better,” General Graywind said, “but, the thought helps to put our problems into perspective a little.”

They were silent for a few moments again.

“I don’t know if… I can trust them.” Said the caped Pegasus.

“Give it time Commander,” General Graywind said. “Give it time and they will earn your trust, heh, trust me.”

And with that the general turned around and began flying again, the other two quickly turning to keep up.

The scene held for a few more seconds, a surprisingly long number of seconds, the lights dimmed slowly. As the lights approached the point where it was no longer possible to discern the actions going on stage a cry rang out, obscured amongst the sounds of clanking and clanging metal…

“General? GENERAL!” screamed the voice Cobalt recognized as the caped Pegasus the General had referred to as ‘Commander’.

The stage was dark for several more seconds, then the narrator approached the center in front of the stage, the spotlight illuminating her.

“And so it was,” said the narrator. “That the three great leaders, Lord Silicon, King Gold, and General Graywind, died within the same fortnight, “their immediate heirs, Princess Platinum, Square Head, and Commander Hurricane taking their positions as the new leaders. But even in this, simple transition, trouble began to brew.”

The curtains parted, the narrator hurrying away to the side. As the stage came into view Cobalt recognized the stage was set to the interior of the unicorn’s castle. Inside the castle were two ponies, Princess Platinum and the pony that Cobalt soon realized was the one that the princess had referred to as “clover”.

“And I’ll never understand why he would assume the name ‘puddinghead’,”said Princess Platinum.

“It’s the gloom,” said ‘Clover’, “the union has existed for a while but there is no real direction and they have no guarantees that we unicorns aren’t going to enslave them. Every new batch of freed slaves they brought in also brought a resurgence of fear and ponies in need of hope. Despair in the past has been all but lethal, that’s why they created these cutie-marks, to fight against the gloom and prevent more of them from dying. Square Head merely believes that, by changing his name to something more… humorous, he’ll be able to help dispel atmosphere of doubt and worry.”

“I suppose,” said Princess Platinum, turning aside as though thinking of something else.

“It is how he won the Earth-Pony election after all, “ ‘Clover’ said.

“I’m honestly more concerned with how the Pegasi are getting along.” Princess Platinum said, turning towards Clover again.

“Badly, I’m afraid,” Clover said. “There is concern over Commander Hurricane’s ability to lead them.”

“Isn’t she a ‘general’ now?” Princess Platinum asked.

“In order for a commander to become a general,” Clover responded, “all of the pegasi clan leaders have to agree, and, well, some of them are more traditional, they don’t want a mare as a general.”

“So what, they’re just going to stand around leaderless?” Princess Platinum said, astonished.

“Well, their leaders have always gained their power from the support of the clans,” Clover said, “and it’s not like they haven’t had to go through transitionary times before.”

“How did they deal with it before?” Princess Platinum asked.

“The houses and clans would eventually get together and choose their own leader.” Clover said, “it’s a pity though, none of the other commanders, or even clan leaders, are stepping up to campaign as the new general, even if only temporarily to help smooth things over.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“THAT’S IT!” Princess Platinum blurted out, “Clover you really are clever aren’t you?! It’s the perfect idea?”

“What is your highness?” Clover asked anxiously.

“I’ll lead them!” Princess Platinum declared, “I’ll lead them until all of this ‘general’ business is taken care of.”

“WHAT?!” Clover exclaimed in disbelief.

The lights faded and the scene changed again, though to Cobalt’s surprise, the setting was the same location. Princess Platinum entering the chambers with Clover close behind.

“Well,” Princess Platinum said, exasperated “I’ve never… you’d think I was asking for a live sacrifice or something.”

“All of the commanders and high commanders just… stepping down like that,” Clover mused, “it was a fairly extreme gesture.”

“And so now they have their ‘leader’, for what good it does them,” Princess Platinum said, all but complaining.

They were silent again for a bit.

“Perhaps this will lead to more solidarity,” Clover said.

“Oh,” said Princess Platinum challengingly, “how so?”

“Oh, just that, it was such a strong gesture, and a difficult one,” Clover said “that I can’t help but feel they’ll likely be more unified for it. Commander Hurricane is… not the most antagonistic to the alliance after all. Perhaps their unity, combined with her leadership will… be for the best… eventually.”

“I just can’t understand why they seemed so… so furious,” Princess Platinum said.

The stage went dark and the Narrator stepped up again.

“But while the leadership issues had been settled,” said the narrator. “Trouble loomed over the next horizon. The leaders of five other nations were not happy with the alliance, and they gathered to discuss their troubles. By daybreak, four of them had already gathered. Gerissen, king of the griffons. Rage-Fire, leader of the dragons, Hot-Iron, lord of the minotaurs, and Burg, the king of the cave-trolls.”

The scene changed again, this time to what appeared to be an open area with a single table. Based on the way the rocks at the base of the table seemed to cut off on the right of the stage as well as the shadows of birds or other flying things that popped up from the floor of the stage and back down again occasionally, it appeared that this was supposed to be a mountain top or side of some kind. The final sell was the mist or clouds that obscured the first half-foot or so of area immediately above the stage floor.

Around the table were situated four strange creatures, even stranger still was that Cobalt could tell that some of them were ponies in considerably elaborate costumes. So elaborate that they seemed almost like large puppets. Cobalt was vaguely reminded of Jabba-The -Hutt and how it took several people to work everything, the eyes, the movements, the hands and arms, even the tail had needed someone to operate it.

There was one, on the right of the table and next to the drop-off, it was larger than a pony, but it moved so naturally that Cobalt couldn’t help but think it was real. It looked to Cobalt as though it had two-half-bodies rather than just a whole one. The front half of it looked like a bird, eagle or falcon of some kind, while the rear half seemed… catlike. “Griffon” came the thought to Cobalt’s mind, and he couldn’t help marveling that he was seeing one for real. What was more, given the lifelike nature of it, he couldn’t help but wonder if they hadn’t simply hired an actual griffon as an actor for the part.

The one next to him seemed entirely fake and phony, Jabba The Hutt had been more believable. It was like someone had sprayed rock-colored spray-paint on a sack of potatoes and gave it matching arms and had simply called it a day. Cobalt assumed this was the “cave troll”.

There was a space in the middle of the table that appeared at first to be empty, just the rusty-red-brown rocks behind it, then a giant dragon-head descended and Cobalt realized that the ‘rocks’ were meant to be the body of the Rage-Fire, the dragon leader… who seemed awful placid despite his namesake.

Finally, on the left was a creature that seemed just as natural as the griffon did, it was tall and had a bull’s head, horns and all; though the lower-half seemed different than the top half, Cobalt couldn’t immediately identify just how it was different.

“Must be the minotaur,” Cobalt said to himself.

For a few moments the four of them were relatively still, the griffon and the troll exchanging what seemed to be a slow but private conversation. Finally the minotaur turned away from the table and towards an open break in the rocks as something clambered into the break. From the appearance of the approach, it seemed that the audience was meant to believe that it was climbing up through the breach and onto the stage.

“Ah, Queen Lamia!” Welcomed the Minotaur. Then he turned toward the griffon, “I didn’t know the queen of the Ophiotauruses had been invited.”

“I wasn’t,” said the queen, “but I heard that the summit was happening and just couldn’t help but join the party.” The queen then made a deliberate move to look down and away from the table, “no matter how high I had to climb to get to it.”

The ‘queen’ was a strange mix that made the Jabba-looking troll actually look believable. She had a front body like the minotaur, cow-like, but the lower body was almost entirely a very large (and long, it was still trailing in the break in the rocks) serpentine tail.

“My apologies,” said Gerissen the griffon. “I wanted a location that was… naturally secluded, most especially away from the ears of any potentially prying pony slaves.”

There was a general growl or groan from the members around the table that Cobalt didn’t immediately recognize.

“They keep escaping,” Burg blurted out, raising a lumpen arm, “can’t get them back!”

“Every time the alliance attacks to free a few we lose a keeper or two,” said Hot-Iron, “it’s getting expensive just to BE a keeper!”

“They’re in such an uproar they haven’t bred sufficient foals in nearly three years!” Lamia complained.

Cobalt noticed the crowd, the audience, had a barely audible something, whether a hiss or a groan or whatever it was exactly he couldn’t quite tell.

There came a low growl and some smoke from the head of the dragon, poking into the stage from above the ceiling.

“YES!” said Gerissen loudly, “and I have a plan, a very evil plan.”

The table of strange creatures was silent.

“Just how evil is it?” asked Lamia.

“The biggest problem,” Gerissen said, “is that whenever the alliance attacks, they do so in a way that makes it difficult to blame them, difficult to track them directly. If we go following the slave’s trail they-“

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” Burg blurted out, both arms pounding the table this time.

“-following their trail does lead to the lands of their alliance,” Gerissen said, “and then reigning rulers all disavow the actions of any pony caught trying to free the slaves. What makes it hard for us that so few slave-owners today have kept records that are accurate and thorough enough to prove which of their ponies are our property, so they just up and claim that NONE of them are escaped slaves!”

Again, the table growled.

“But, what do you intend to do about it?” Queen Lamia cooed.

“Simple,” Gerissen said. “we lay a trap for them.”

“And pound em inta paste!” Burg shouted in excitement.

“Er, no.” Gerissen said, “we consolidate. We, the griffon empire will buy all of your pony slaves, meanwhile everyone recovers or… creates… records of the slaves so we can prove them as property; proof which will be presented to the alliance before we’ve moved them. When we move them, we move them right to the border, basically taunt the alliance into taking them, and we sit by and simply watch with as many witnesses as possible.’

‘With the alliance being shown in full error, we can force them to either return the slaves or to actually up and pay for them, then we set a price at five, no, TEN times what each slave is worth!”

“They won’t pay.” Said Hot Iron, “I’ve seen how they deal.”

“They will pay.” Gerissen said, “if we show that there was an ongoing debt for the slaves, then it’ll mean that with one action they have offended 5 nations at once! If it were just one nation they could threaten war against it, their numbers are great enough that they could do some damage that way and nobody would go for it; but all five together? We can threaten them with a war so great that they will be FORCED to pay for them. Sure, it means we lose our pony slaves in the end, but we make enough for it to buy more slaves from somewhere else.”

“Not pony slaves though,” Hot Iron mused. “Barely any ponies left outside of the alliance to make into slaves.”

They were all silent for a moment.

“TWENTY TIMES” came a booming voice that Cobalt could only assume was Rage-Fire.

“They won’t-“ Gerissen said before being interrupted.

“TWENTY TIMES,” said the huge booming voice again. “TWENTY TIMES, OR I WILL NOT JOIN.”

“I get my ponies back?” Burg asked, his lump of a head cocking slightly.

There was an awkward silence, during which more than one pony in the audience stifled a laugh or snicker.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll talk with him.” Hot-Iron said, breaking the silence.

“But… I dunno, twenty times…” Gerissen said.

“If we allow them to pay over time,” Lamia suggested. “It would give them a better opportunity to pay, and it would allow us to get them to admit and confirm their debt in writing.”

“THAT WORKS,” said the booming voice.

There was silence at the table for a moment.

“Very well,” Gerissen said “all in favor?”

Rage-Fire nodded his giant head, Hot-Iron and Lamia raised an arm, Gerissen raised a clawed fore-limb; Burg, after a few moments of what appeared to be hard thinking let out an excited growl.

“So be it,” Gerissen said. “I shall contact the griffon governors and begin setting up the monetary arrangements.”

The stage dimmed and the curtains closed. Surprisingly though, the auditorium started getting illuminated.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts,” said a resonating but thus far unfamiliar voice, louder than most of the actors had been. “We shall have a brief intermission which shall last for twenty-five minutes.”

It took Cobalt a moment to register what had been said, he was still trying to take in the plot of the play. While Cobalt was often curious and contemplative enough to understand most modern movies without needing a second viewing, yet many older plays and the like took so long that it was actually harder for him to keep up with them unless watched and possibly read a few times. Given that he was basically an interdimensional ambassador he wanted to try and keep up with the play, though even now he felt his memory blurring.

“So,” Celestia said, nearly startling Cobalt, who had all but forgotten that she was there. “Understand the pageant so far?”

“Um, I think so,” Cobalt said hesitantly.

“Explain it to me,” Celestia said, “what happened at the beginning?”

“Um, there…” Cobalt said, starting uncertainly.

“What happened at the end, and how did the play get there?” Celestia asked, “let’s try that.”

“The alliance has problems,” Cobalt said, “none of them trust each other. They keep making raids to get Earth Pony slaves and free them and bring them to the alliance. They… I think the nations are not really unified or they’d have made larger enemies sooner.”

“Good, and the leadership?” Celestia said.

“It… the original leadership died,” Cobalt said. “So their successors had to inherit a system with problems.”

“And the functions?” Celestia continued, “what purposes did each tribe serve?”

“They were different back then,” Cobalt said. “Each tribe was coping with what it… used to be and they’re trying to transition slowly but the demands want them to transition more quickly than that. And Princess Platinum’s being an idiot.”

Celestia had to scrunch up her face to hold back a snicker.

“There was fault on all sides,” Celestia said finally, “if you look closely enough.”

Cobalt looked down, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention enough to see it all.

“It’s alright,” Celestia said, “I’ve only ever had one student work arduously enough to memorize everything her first time and… well, let’s just say she’s got her own problems.”

“Cobalt,” Dusty Legend said, approaching “we’re making a run for the horse-d’oeuvres, and we’re wondering what you would want.”

Cobalt’s mind blanked, he’d never understood what that particular French-word had meant no matter how many times he’d heard it and it put him to mind of some kind of extremely fancy, not to mention expensive, tiny food-stuffs. As such, Cobalt stood there silently for an awkwardly long time.

“Can I... go see what they have available?” Cobalt asked.

“You don’t need my permission,” Celestia answered.

Down in the hall again, Cobalt joined with the procession that was in line for one of several food tables. From the looks of it, horse-d’oeuvres, was nothing more than “appetizers” and several of which he thought he recognized. Even so, he was further back in line and would be several minutes before he could actually reach them properly.

For a while, everything was the boring and predictable Queuing in a steadily moving line.

“And I also want some of those spicy cheese bread balls” said an unfamiliar yet commanding voice.

Cobalt looked and saw a white unicorn stallion looking straight at him a golden tint to his yellow mane and a disapproving glare on his face.

“Excuse me?” Cobalt said, uncertain what else to say.

“Honestly, where does father get the help these days?” Asked the pale pony, rolling his eyes in deliberate exasperation “I said I want--”

“What do you mean help?” Cobalt interrupted.

“You are one of the servants hired on by the Gold-Hoof Foundation are you not?” The pale pony said more than he asked.

“Er, no?” Cobalt answered, trying to think if he’d ever heard of ‘Gold-Hoof Foundation’ or not.

“And you were assigned to the services of my attendance here, were you not?” The pale pony continued, apparently not having heard him.

“I don’t see how I could be,” Cobalt continued, smiling as he did so, his confusion was beginning to give in to his sense of humor.

“And in lieu of this assignment you were put under the direct authority, beck, and call to one Prince Blueblood, were you not,” said the pale pony.

“Not to my knowledge,” Cobalt said, “I’m barely at Princess Celestia’s beck and call.”

“You…” Stuttered the pale pony.

“I mean I guess I’d come if she called,” Cobalt said, attempting to strut and stay in line at the same time. “But, honestly who would be caught dead at somepony else’s beck and call. I sure wouldn’t. And for that matter, I’m certainly not at yours!”

The pale pony stuttered and sputtered some more before finally turning away with a “humph!” and what Cobalt could only assume was a threat to have him fired.

Cobalt continued waiting in line, which progressed at a fair pace.

“You… you really don’t work for my father?” said the voice behind Cobalt, who turned to see the pale pony had returned.

“I… it’s complicated, but for right now I don’t really work for anyone,” Cobalt said.

“It’s just that, with your vest,” said the pale pony, “I thought you were just a servant, and I didn’t see anypony I recognized so… you really don’t work for anypony? As in, you aren’t here on somepony’s bequest?”

“I’m here for the appetizers,” Cobalt said flatly. “And, unless you count ‘being here at the bequest of my own stomach’... I’m here of my own volition.”

“But, you’re vestments,” the pale pony persisted. “They’re so plain!”

Cobalt considered this for a moment.

“It doesn’t cheat, if that’s what you mean.” Cobalt countered with, “honestly, using magic to make something appear better than it really is, that’s cheating if you ask me.”

The pale pony was taken aback for a moment, such direct confrontation, and so unrefined wasn’t something he was used to.

Cobalt decided to use the hesitation to bring the conversation to even terms.

“What is your name?” Cobalt asked. He knew it was a bit of a risk, this pony obviously thought highly of himself, to ask a celebrity who they were was to risk ostracization, but Cobalt felt that he’d managed to make himself appear enigmatic enough that such ignorance might be overlooked.

“You… you don’t know who I am?” the pale pony asked.

“No,” Cobalt said simply.

“I…” the pale pony stammered.

A change seemed to occur, the pale pony seemed to relax somewhat, like wind-up toy soldier that was usually kept at full tension, but had been suddenly given permission to unwind himself a little.

“My name is North Bound, but I rarely use it,” said the pale pony. “These days, I go by my title and the family name.”

“Oh?” Cobalt said, partially curious. “And, do I know that name? I’m sorry but either way I just don’t recognize you.”

North Bound actually laughed.

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” North Bound said. “My family, my father mostly, likes to limit my exposure to others of… lesser ilk.”

“Ah, ilk that, I guess, is more his choosing than anypony’s?” Cobalt said.

“More or less,” North Bound said. “A pity too, in some ways. I mean, I spent all that time and effort to get where I am and now, it’s not where I want to be.”

“Just for the record,” Cobalt said “where are you?”

“I commonly… wow, I never thought I’d ever hear myself calling myself common… eesh,” North Bound said. “Anyway, I… er, often go by the moniker of ‘Prince Blueblood’. At least, since my coronation to princedom that is.”

Cobalt tried thinking if he’d heard the name before, it seemed he’d had but he couldn’t place where.

“Can’t say… I mean I was aware that… hang on, oh that’s where.” Cobalt said finally “Earlier today I saw your procession… which seems somewhat absent at the moment… and I asked ‘who is that?’ and we got into a discussion about what princes were. Sorry but we didn’t really discuss you specifically very much.”

“Pfft, that would be a first,” North Bound said.

“But, you were saying it’s not where you wanted to be?” Cobalt pressed on, hoping he wasn’t going to end up sounding like a groupie or something.

“Well like the mares for one thing!” North Bound said, “honestly, it’s like they want me to form a herd or something! Not a day goes by when some no-pony comes up to me and wants me to make them the next ‘Princess Blueblood’ or something. And the worst part is, I play along! I’ve been at it so long that I turned it into a game! I pretend to be some jerk and ignore their obvious advances just to see how far I can string them along. I haven’t done it much since… well, since that incident at the Gala some time ago, stained my best… well, my father’s best vestments I can tell you!”

“Sounds awful,” Cobalt said, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. To Cobalt, any excuse to get out of wearing something uncomfortable was a good one.

“Oh don’t get me wrong,” North Bound said “I hated the thing! Did you know, no less than two, TWO of my family have actually worn those to their own funeral?! They weren’t buried in it of course, but they wore them at the viewing! About time somepony burned those old clothes if you ask me.”

Cobalt snickered, “sounds more like me than somepony of high standing.”

“Eh?” North Bound said, cocking his head at Cobalt.

“I hate dressing up like this.” Cobalt said, “honestly if it weren’t for getting personally invited to a… can’t call it a ‘party’ really… shindig?”

“Festivity,” North Bound said, adopting a slightly holier than thou kind of accent.

“Exactly,” Cobalt said, “if it weren’t for that, I doubt you’d catch me dead in this getup”

North Bound looked at him a little, then started snickering, Cobalt just looked at him curiously, cocking his head hoping to coax him to explain his little joke.

“It’s… nothing,” North Bound said, “just… well, anything that cost less than a thousand bits and my father’d probably say that HE wouldn’t be caught dead in it either.”

Cobalt looked down at his vest, it definitely hadn’t cost a thousand bits, not even near a hundred.

“Too fancy for me, not enough for him then,” Cobalt summarized, “which begs the question, who would wear them... willfully that is.”

They both chuckled and fell to a cheery silence, casually Cobalt checked to see if the line had moved, it had but not by much. Instead of the simple steady flow, the line seemed to be dictated by whomever was at the table presently, gathering what he or she wanted before the next one began moving in. Cobalt had to wonder at the logic of this.

“Ah, I’m afraid I have to cut this short.” North Bound said, breaking Cobalt from his contemplations. “I do believe I have spotted my father’s entourage, come to ‘save me’ from the brutish ways and soiling proximity of the common folk. Yes, I can see, there is my father’s Entourage-Warden glaring at me now, he does that when he wants to say ‘get over here NOW’.”

“Ah, well, are they joining us or…?” Cobalt asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” North Bound said, cutting himself out of the line. “Well, must go so, sorry this is so abrupt but, goodbye.”

“It was nice talking with you.” Cobalt said after him, North Bound turned his head a moment, then nodded before returning back to his low trot taking him to the small but well clad assortment of ponies that were expecting him.

The line proceeded and soon Cobalt returned to the task of keeping up with the line.

“Cobalt?” came a voice a minute later or so.

It was one of the guards that had escorted him previously.

“I’ve been looking for you,” said the guard. “We need to get back.”

“But... but I’ve been... in the line,” Cobalt said. “I... I was told that there... would be appetizers.”

“You kinda left pretty fast,” said the guard. “Our appetizers are being delivered. When Dusty invited you, it wasn’t to join a line down here, it was to join him in selecting what was going to be sent up to the booth. Princess Celestia sent four of us to find you.”

“Oh,” Cobalt said, a little sad to be giving up his place in line, it hadn’t been an unpleasant wait but it he had been there, dutifully queuing in the line. It was time he had spent and now, it felt like it was time that had been wasted. Then he looked curiously at the guard, as he was there alone.

“We split up, it’s a big theater,” said the guard.

“Yeah,” Cobalt agreed, breaking off from the line and following the guard back to the balcony access stairway. “Yeah it is.”

- - - -

“…And?” Princess Luna protested. “Tell me what happened then?”

“Nothing much,” Celestia responded. “he was a bit too distracted by the snacks to realize the play had started without him, he completely missed the ‘trap’ scene but in that he didn’t miss much, even he admitted that unless things ‘didn’t go according to plan’ then he’d already heard what was going to happen anyway. There was a little spat though and he ended up yelling out loud when Dusty ignored him and wouldn’t give him an answer to his question concerning the snacks.”

“Oh?” Luna said curiously. “And what, pray tell, was so important?”

Celestia was forced to hold back a laugh that nearly made her snort.

“He was trying to ask... “ Celestia said, barely holding back her hysterics. “Whether or not it was safe for ponies to eat SHRIMP!”

Celestia rolled back laughing.

“But, certainly he knew it was safe?” Luna said, confused. “I did the research myself, they have shrimp on his world, he should know it is safe!”

“That’s just it!” Celestia said, still struggling to contain her humor. “His world, where they’re all omnivores! Once he came here he’s had it in his head that all of that, ALL of that, was completely different now. He had NO IDEA that shrimp were still edible!”

Luna looked at her sister as the latter failed to hold back a few more snickers and spurts.

“And, the rest of the play?” Luna asked.

“Oh, you know, same as it always is,“ Celestia said, finding it easier to hold the humor back now that they were on boring topics again. “The trap was set; Princess Platinum saw through the trap and decided to do nothing, just leave the slaves there for the time being; The earth ponies and pegasi conspired together, and freed the remaining slaves themselves; miscommunication between the two caused them to each lose some ponies in the scuffle with the griffons. This caused the Pegasi to blame the Earth Ponies for their losses and the Earth Ponies blamed the pegasi for the same.’

‘Then the griffons enacted their contract-trap so as to get the ponies into debt, which mostly works and the kingdom finds itself deeply indebted to the griffons, much to the chagrin and surprise of Princess Platinum; The ponies found a nation of dogs that were initially wanting arable land and at first were set on taking the land from the ponies, but Princess Platinum eventually convinced them to come to an agreement. In this new agreement the dogs would take on the debt and the ponies would pay them back in food, the catch there being that after signing the agreement, if the ponies could not fulfill their end, then they would forfeit their lands to the dogs instead.’

‘Princess Platinum was still miffed at being circumvented and in a fit of spite, accepts the deal without consulting with the other tribes first; earth ponies were forced to start working the fields even when their special talents were otherwise; eventually difficulties arose and disagreements caused rifts, the windigos started gathering and the cold started settling in and soon the nation didn’t have enough food to feed itself let alone pay any debts with it.’

‘Finally they were forced to forfeit their land and go find a new one while the dogs moved in; the three tribes stumbled across new lands, searching for a home, and eventually their leaders got forced into a lonely cave, surrounded by the cold and windigos that had followed them; There, though the leaders were themselves frozen, their companions were able to restore trust and harmony between themselves and eventually, their leaders as well.’

‘So, you know...

...the usual”

Luna was silent for a moment before responding: “It’s amazing that you can say that all in one breath.”

“He did spend some time looking over some of the play’s historical information.” Celestia said, ignoring her sister’s statement. “You know how it is, when they make a big production they want the audience to appreciate the authenticity so they’ll chronicalise what they used when putting it together. I myself hadn’t noticed, but Cobalt pointed out where they mentioned that they used paint to actually imitate the cutie-marks of the original characters. He seemed to appreciate the chance to see them up close.”

“You were wise to take precautions,” Luna said.

“He probably figured out what we were doing,” Celestia said. “But, if we’re lucky, he won’t think it’s important enough to research. Having them start the play in the latter half of the first act instead of the first half thereof kept him from the deeper parts of the history but... I don’t know. He’s not like Twilight, he is not my most faithful student, yet he’s kept himself from trying to find the information I’ve been keeping from him. A restraint he’s maintained from raw faith alone, and unless that faith starts to bear fruit soon, it’s not going to be sustaining his restraint for long, and then it will be impossible to keep the portal’s oldest secrets from him any longer.”

“He is growing,” Luna said. “Have you thought about where you’re going to put him when he becomes mobile?”

“I’m going to give him a job,” Celestia said plainly. “It’s the best thing really, something simple that he can do with a team, I can keep an eye on him and he’ll have a more secure income plus it’ll buy time to get the other project ready for him.”

“And what if this other project doesn’t turn out dear sister?” Luna asked. “It could all backfire if things don’t go according to plan.”

“Which is why we’ll have to be fairly picky on when and where,” Celestia said.

- - - - - - - - - -
Report: (M/D) 1375 FE (2012 back home)
To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.
CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.
CC: My family, address on file.
CC: Myself, for my own records.
From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

I think I’m flying, it’s only a thought though.

I keep remembering things that I feel like they’re dreams. The thing is, my dreams are usually fairly varied but these are always the same, I’m just hovering in my bedroom, fairly still.

It’s still cold, but I’m going to try to fly while I’m awake, it’d kinda stink if I was only able to fly while I was asleep.

I think I’m starting to like winter again, even though my hoof is still sore at times.

There is an interesting bit of info that I received recently. There are two kinds of “royalty”, those that are natural alicorns and those that are “honorary”; this mostly consists of princes who fulfill the following requirements.

1-there are no existing alicorn princes. (this one is fairly obvious so most overlook this one)

2-are officially recognized as not sharing a bloodline with nor having any physical relation with any existing alicorn princess. (again, easily overlooked, apparently, there are several big houses that want to share a bloodline with one of the princesses (except Twilight's for some reason) but they keep getting denied)

3-must have served and be recognized to have served in a position of authority on the governmental (as in, not “local”) level. This can be basically anything where Princess Celestia (or Luna) tells a pony what to do, no matter how many ponies the orders go through, so long as it originates from her... or some other governmental official, so long as it doesn't originate from local authorities or non-government authorities.

4-must have served and be noted to have served either in foreign relations or as front-line in a military action or otherwise engaged in negotiation with a foreign power.

5-must have served at least 1 year (preferably 2 years) in some form of military service. (many of the nobility, the rich ponies that don’t officially have any power but often fill many sub-princess positions, in an effort to help more of their own to be eligible for princedom flood the princesses guard-positions with their kin)

6-must publish and be recognized or noted as having published a document pertaining to politics or the law in some way. Usually, "recognized" means that enough "noble" ponies, at least 12, sign something indicating that they recognize X document having been published and written by Y pony.

7-noted involvement in a major event in Equestrian history. (sometimes hiding in a corner while a tyrant attacks counts, usually a “major event” that really isn’t gets decided by some historical committee five years after the event in question. Until recently, "major events" were stretched fairly thinly, as in, ponies making excuses for something trivial as being major, just so they can get it past this one.)

8-proof of ownership of either a tract of land of some kind, or a company that brings in at least 5,000 bits-per-year or have at least 20,000 free standing bits at the time of being judged worthy of being a prince. (so yes, they could just all blow it afterwards)

9-get knighted by a reigning authority. (typically Celestia or Luna, this is the linchpin in the prince-making process as none of the princesses can be forced to knight anypony, though if the pony in question is unpopular enough it can be looked down upon by the nobility, there is a kind of power-cold-war between the princesses and the nobility, especially in this ‘honorary’ princes thing.)

The nobility basically consists of about 15 families in various positions. There is a good deal of family loyalty but middle-men and lower nobles, when panicked, can and will hide behind a strong noble leader of another family to protect the nobility in general. This may seem as a large security risk but honorary princes (and honorary princesses) have very little reigning authority and the odds of any outsider becoming a prince are very slim, requiring several tasks, being approved and recognized by the noble families, and finally getting the approval from at least one of the princesses. Even then, the “honorary prince” title is only good within the jurisdiction of the princess that bequeaths the title.
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