On the other side of the door stood one of the butler ponies. He gave only the barest hint of a grin, but went fully professional before it was seen... but his emotions showed that there was now a bit more respect for the Trojan in this pony.
"Ah, hello Sir Illiad; I have been instructed to escort you to Madam Blackwater's tea party; Master Daxter will be in attendance, as well as Master Oglevy."
There was a definite pulse of irritation at the mention of the youngest Blackwater's name, but not a sign of it on Beck's... Call's?... well, on the butler's face. It was still impossible to tell them apart, but at least it was becoming obvious that there was more to these twins than snobbishness.
"I have been given allowance to take you to your quarters to change for the event; what is your wish, Sir Illiad?"
He waited politely for Illiad's decision.
Illiad thought for a moment. Going to the room first will be preferable as it delays my encounter with worst beverage. Plus I can do a more thorough cleaning of my robes.
He returned to the Canterlot Intellectual accent he used before, the smug one, this time leaving out the condescension.
"Let us go to my quarters first, if possible I would like to get my current robes cleaned. I have another set I can wear to the party in the meantime."
The butler pony bowed. "Very good, sir." With that, he began to lead the way.
"If you wish, Call and I will launder any clothing you wish to have cleaned. Merely hand the offending articles over to myself, or leave them in the hamper; they will be returned clean and pressed, if sir wishes pressing."
Illiad began walking with the butler, the opulence of the place struck Illiad as they went through a number of halls, down a spiral staircase, and into a part of the manor that was notably cooler... and had no windows. Apparently, Beck (from his admittance) was used to questions about the windowless area, because he spoke up.
"The living quarters are located in the rear half of the manor; be certain, you will be quite safe, and most comfortable. Should you wish, the fireplace is available for your usage - firewood will be provided on request, sir."
Illiad nodded to indicate he heard, "Tell me, will tea be the only beverage served at Mrs. Blackwater's party? I must admit I lost my fondness for the stuff after a traumatic experience a few years back."
At Illiad's question, Beck gave a thoughtful look, then grinned lightly.
"If sir would wish, I would be happy to provide a substitution; Madam will be..." A quick flash of fear. "...unhappy about such, as she does enjoy differently flavored teas to be shared; if I may make a bold suggestion? For a guest who might be allergic to tea leaves, she would be far more willing to make an exception."
Beck stopped in front of a scrimshaw-laden oak door. He opened the door, and stepped back.
"I shall await for sir to approve of the quarters and provide laundry before I depart."
The room was quite large. There was the aforementioned fireplace, red marble and iron with inlaid brick. The deep maroon carpet was plush and soft on his hooves. There was a four-post bed with soft pinkish drapes, with a matching chair, sofa and dresser, all in harmony with the rest of the room. In the corner, there was a round, red cushion on the floor - big enough to be a table!
The most interesting part were the walls - they were stone, cut and polished and beautiful to behold.
"Is everything to your liking, Sir Illiad?"
It's a bit much... This carpet is softer than my bed back home. My own home preparations now seem woefully inadequate. Well, I suppose at the very least my house should be better than his tent. I guess that’s something.
Illiad fully entered the room, removing his cloak as he did so. "It is certainly much grander than I had expected, you really do treat your guests well here." He flashed his inner robes off of himself revealing his khaki coat. If one looked closely they would see some discolored patches with a bit of old scar tissue beneath.
He proceeded to his saddlebags to retrieve his other set as he untangled what he had removed, revealing it to be one continuous stretch of cloth. He folded it as he placed it with the cloak he had removed.
"You won't need to be careful about washing it, it is a very durable fabric and you'll get more dust out of it with cold water. But I trust you know what you're doing."
Without looking back Illiad began to wrap the new set around himself, one end had a strap which he tied around his barrel, the cloth extending between his forelegs. He wrapped the cloth around the right side and across his back, the cloth stretching from the base of his neck to the middle of his hind legs. His tail easily poking through a hole in the back. The cloth then wrapped around his midsection before wrapping around his left in a similar manner to the right, the remainder being tucked under the beginning. This robe was a shade or two whiter than the first one due to it being recently cleaned.
Illiad returned to Beck with the original garments in tow, passing them over to him. "Let us be off then, it would likely be worse to keep her waiting then for her to hear about why I so dislike tea. Allergies seems unlikely as she may desire to test that. Hopefully she can be understanding."
Beck accepted the laundry, quickly and securely placing the clothing on his back, and nodded. As Illiad spoke his piece about the tea, Beck began putting off low waves of fear; they didn't seem to be aimed at him, but he was beginning to get a bad feeling about what might come of this...
"The advice is appreciated - and if you wish sir? I would be happy to wrap you next time, if it is requested; I never forget such things once I witness them." A small skitter of honest pride drifted out from him.
Another hallway, another staircase (this time, up the spiral), and down another corridor. This time when Beck stopped, he did so in front of a rather ritzy set of glass doors. On the other side, Illiad could hear Vylia's voice, going on about something or other. Beck pulled one open, and made a sweeping gesture.
"Madam and Masters are within, awaiting your-"
"NO, YOU IDIOT! I TOLD YOU TO BRING THE BONE CHINA CUPS! ARE YOU TRYING TO EMBARRASS ME!?"
Beck audibly gulped, then continued.
"... presence, sir."
The roil of anger was big enough for Illiad to feel it from here; it was frightening in its magnitude. Beck, after closing the door, scooted quickly through the cute little sunroom and onto the balcony.
Arriving at the doorway, the scene was just so:
Vylia Blackwater, in a lovely sundress, standing tall with a FURIOUS look on her face, looming over Call, who looked as if he were about to soil himself.
Dax Blackwater, his wild mane slicked back and a frilly scarf on his neck, sitting quite uncomfortably in his seat, whose eyes lit up at the sight of Illiad.
And, sitting at the other side of the table, was a small blue pegasus colt wearing a baby blue sailor suit and a straw hat. He was scowling when Illiad entered, but when he saw the unicorn his muzzle slowly twisted into a wicked little grin.
Upon entering, Vylia instantly whipped around to face Illiad, her stance going completely demure and her face snapping into a smile.
"Oh, WON-derful! You've arrived! Please, if you would sit on the divan provided for you, I'll be quite happy to pour for us all."
Her eyes slid sideways to regard Call, who was shaking like a leaf.
"Tea. NOW."
Call took off like a shot, while Beck smoothly took his place behind Vylia.
I don't much like that mare, you can often tell the quality of a person by how they treat those under them. This must have been what it was like in Troy before the revolution, I can't say I blame them.
Illiad approached the table confidently despite his own feelings and sat in a similar manner to the rest he turned towards Beck, "I must thank you for your assistance, without your help I never would have found my way here."
When he thanked Beck, all around the table surprise popped up - especially from Beck himself. Vylia's eyes scooted sidelong for a moment, then she gave a slight shrug. Dax gave the tiniest of grins. The blue colt did glance over at Beck... and his nasty smile grew.
Beck looked a bit non-plussed for a moment, then he gave a short, neat bow. "One is glad to be of service, Sir Illiad." However, the Empathic felt a wave of gratitude come off him, followed by a jolt of worry as he glanced toward where Call had gone.
Illiad looked over the other members of the table before focusing on Mrs. Blackwater. "If you don't mind my saying so, Mrs. Blackwater, might I have something other than tea? I lost my fondness for it after a traumatic accident a few years back."
Illiad was sure to keep his expression positive yet inquisitive, despite his growing fears of what... Oglybee? Whatever his name was, had planned.
He sincerely hoped that she would approve of his honesty and not be offended. But if he had to tell the story of being repeatedly doused by boiling tea while his former classmates held him down he most certainly would.
Vylia's eyes widened as she heard the unicorn's beverage request.
"A 'traumatic experience'? With tea? Oh, you poor dear... Beck, go fetch Mr. Easle some of my personal stock of apple juice, and make it snappy; I refuse to eat any teacakes without my dear guest having his refreshments at hoof."
Beck nodded, and made his way to the sunroom - and as soon as he rounded the corner, Call came back around right after. He had a delicate glass tea pitcher, dainty and blue, on a silver tray. He brought it to the table, set it down and began pouring the honey-scented tea into Vylia's cup.
"None for Mr. Easle - Beck has gone to fetch him a suitable replacement." Call's eyebrows shot up, but he said not a word as he filled the Blackwaters' teacups. The aroma of the brew was thick, but fortunately the breeze outside was enough to waft most of it away.
"Now, dear - I'm SO glad you could join us. Daxter you know, of course; this is my darling little Oglevy! Say hello to the nice stallion, my little biscuit..."
The blue imp's smile grew a little wider. "Hello, Mister Easel." The emotion coming off of him was completely unguarded, as children's usually were... and it was cold, ruthless and highly unpleasant. It was as if a little Sombra was sitting there, trapped in the body of a child.
"Oh, isn't he just adorable? Oglevy here is in the advanced classes with his tutors; they say that if he keeps up the level of study he accomplishes, he might just be eligible for college before he's even reached his teenage years! Isn't that right, my little muffin?"
"That's right, Mother." Those eyes were like daggers of ice.
"Of course, do not make the mistake of discounting my dear, sweet Daxter either - did you know that he constructed his own telescope at the age of eight? Oh yes, he has always been an exceedingly bright boy - as we Blackwaters ALL tend to excel in what we do, isn't that correct, Daxter?"
Dax looked mortified by the whole affair, and put off an aura of nervousness as he tried not to fidget with his excessively frilly scarf. "Yes, Mother."
Illiad glanced over both of the children as they were mentioned. It's a shame I didn't drain any of that fear earlier. I sure Oglevy could use some. As a precaution Illiad began to weave minor protection spells into his robes. At least Mrs. Blackwater was understanding, I should thank her.
"Yes, yes - I am so very fortunate to have such wonderful children! In the race to surpass the expectations others have of them, they make the other colts look like they're standing still. As it should be; they ARE Blackwaters, after all."
She smiled, and it was dazzling in its splendor - as was she, in her sundress - but with the knowledge of who she was underneath, the smile felt counterfeit; the joviality forced. It almost seemed like it was a routine, automatic.
"So, Mr. Easle - Daxter has told us a bit about you, but I would certainly have to say not FAR enough for my palette; please, won't you regale us with tales of your home? I've never been to Troy, though Daxter tells me, from what you've written, that it's simply WON-derful! Do tell us all about it, won't you?"
"Thank you for understanding. Well I must say I am impressed at the progress your children have made in their studies. While my past is not nearly as impressive I did spend many years working in the Canterlot Archives as I developed my talents, specialized studies if you will. And while my family is not as renowned as yours, my father did design many of the newer structures in Canterlot."
He took a deep breath preparing to tell the stories of Troy. "In regards to Troy, there is much to say about it. Is there any particular aspect you wish to know about? Or would you like an overview similar to what I put in my letters?"
Illiad glanced over at Oglevy, the protection spells nearly complete. His face would still be exposed but he hoped he could do a flash shield fast enough if it came to that.
"Oh, I'm certain there's a LOT to say about your homeland, dear - but I want to know about the FABULOUS things there! Those at the top of the milkcan, so to speak; where the CREAM is, darling!"
Her laugh was bright and sunny, and she looked so very pleasant... maybe, like her husband, there's something hiding in there that's worthwhile - Luther had three children, and that didn't just happen by accident; she had to have some sort of redeeming feature, right? Maybe it would reveal itself, given time...
"Tell me about the society there... I'm simply dying to know what those in charge have going for the- Daxter, love, stop messing with your cravat! You'll soil it!"
Dax's hooves zipped away from his scarf (cravat?), and went into his lap. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. He looked over at Vylia. "Yes, Mother. Sorry, Mother."
She nodded, and took a sip of her tea. As she did, Dax glanced over at Illiad, and he could feel the young stallion's boredom. It was coming off him so thickly, it almost hurt.
"Anyway, tell me how the better half lives, dear - I may decide that we could use a winter cottage there, should it be so good! I'm sure Daxter would like that idea, and Oglevy always has such a wonderful time making friends, don't you my little sugarbelly?"
That smile didn't waver as he slowly and deliberately took a sip of his tea before he answered. "Yes, Mother... new friends are fun." Illiad felt some sort of intent, vile and wicked, squirming around in Oglevy's mind; it was almost certainly aimed at the unicorn.
I have a bad feeling about that colt. I just wish he'd do something already just to get it over with.
"Of course they are, dearie. Now please, Illiad darling - regale me!"
Between Vylia's foppishness, Dax's discomfort and Oglevy's unnerving attitude, the Empathic wasn't certain how much more of this he could reasonably take.
Illiad held his emotions in check so they didn't show on his face.
"Well, at its base Trojan society is arranged much differently than Equestrian. We don't have a princess to rule over us or decide who will be in charge of areas. Instead we have two levels of councils, one for each city and one that oversees the whole empire. Anyone can be on a council provided enough of the populous agrees that they should be on one. All of the races of the world are treated equally and all residents contribute to, and benefit from, the community agriculture projects."
"Troy as a city, which is the capital of Troy the nation, is very similar to Manehattan. Many tall buildings of glass and marble, two of the most common materials in the area. I can't say I really know what life is like in Troy itself as I live in Deltrot, but I assume the sense of community is still fairly strong there."
Illiad paused, a slightly perplexed look on his face.
"Forgive me, I seem to have hit a blank. Do you have a bit more specific question I could answer? I guess I must not really understand your question."
Vylia looked thoughtful.
"You're describing a communal society - well, how very progressive! I'm not certain how Princess Celestia could ever approve of this, but I suppose she has her reasons, hmm? How wonderful to know that she approves of such an endeav-"
"It was Princess Luna who did it, Mother." Dax spoke up, and Illiad felt a touch of rebellion in that action.
"Luna? Truly? Well, that's... interesting. And Celestia approved?"
"This was before Nightmare Moon, Mother."
"I see... how very interesting. And such a forward-thinking move for such a long time ago... I must say I am duly impressed!"
It was an honest statement; her emotions proved it to the Empathic pony. Vylia took another sip of her tea, pondering for a moment as she seemed to be savoring the honey-sweet taste.
Dax looked over at Illiad, his smile a little bigger now. "If you please, would you be willing to tell her about your job?" He may have sounded like a little lordling, but it was so different from the Dax he'd heard talking earlier, it was kind of funny to hear him speak that way.
Vylia's eyes lit up. "Oh, indeed? Whatever do you do for a living, Mr. Easel? It must be FA-scinating, dearie - please, share with us your profession, if it's alright?"
A bit of honest smile crept onto Illiad's face. I'm amazed Dax remembered all that. Though I suppose it is to be expected.
"Well, Troy isn't entirely communal, just the agriculture out of necessity. It’s a sort of social safety net for those who have fallen on hard times. The rest of the society is all about independence and freedom."
Illiad took a more engaged stance, leaning forward a bit, indicating that the topic interested him greatly. "I am a sort of security artist. For the most part I design security measures like watermarks and seals for important documents. In fact, I am designing a set of Mr. Blackwater at the moment. That reminds me, I need to sketch your and Daxter's marks, Mr. Blackwater requested them specifically. Outside of my work in security I occasionally design inlays for furniture or wall hangings, though I do on occasion make paintings and write short stories, I am much better at security. It pays decently and has loyal repeat customers as it is good practice to update securities every few years."
He leaned back a bit while glancing at his still empty cup. A slight bit of worry crossed his mind as he wondered what could be taking so long. He feared the worst yet hoped for the best.
"Is there anything else you'd like to know?"
"Oh, I could simply listen to you go on for HOURS, Darling! There's just so much we could learn from you, it would be like having a teacher right here at my home! Oh, it's such-"
Call came trotting over to Illiad's side of the table, a decanter in his mouth, ready to pour. At that same moment, only visible from the Trojan's side of the table, Oglevy's hoof slid directly into Call's way. The grin widened as Call tripped over it.
The decanter went end over end in the air, then splashed down into Illiad's lap. The smell of apples was everywhere, and there was an amber stain spreading across his clothing. Beck gasped, Dax covered his face, and Oglevy simply laughed at the butler's misfortune.
Vyila looked angry.
"Beck... go assist Call... with the cleanup..."
Dax leapt up. "I can take Mr. Easle to clean up and change, Mother."
Vyila waved them away, her eyes locked and focused on the two butler ponies, frantically cleaning up the mess.
"Terribly sorry, Sir Easle-"
"- it won't happen again."
Dax motioned to the door, his eyes atomic and his emotions at a fever pitch; Dax was planning this as their escape. Oglevy, sitting perfectly in his seat, gave Illiad a wink as the two stepped into the sunroom, where Dax closed the door.
Well, juice is infinitely preferable to tea in this case. It's a good thing I wove those protection spells.
Once the door was closed Illiad turned to Dax, "I know your entire ploy was to get out of the room and I can't blame you. Your brother is quite insufferable."
He began to activate the protection spells, reversing the stain and removing the juice from the garment. "It's a shame, this looks like quality juice, Apple Family no doubt."
He drew the juice away into a small ball, which he simply held as he had no idea what to do with it.
"Well, there's a bunch of time we don't have to waste actually cleaning and changing. I think there's a good 10-15 minutes before they'll suspect anything. Is there anything in particular you want or is simply avoiding your family enough?"
Dax unceremoniously yanked the scarf off of his neck and tossed it onto one of the chairs, then ran a hoof through his hair to set it more back to how it was. Once he did this, he gave a huge sigh of relief.
"I wanted us to get outta there - Mother's about to give Beck and Call a good yelling; that'll keep her occupied for a while... but it won't be long before Oglevy asks to be excused - and he'll be looking for us."
Dax led Illiad out into the hall, down more stairs, and back toward the front foyer. It was a fast trek, and Dax actually seemed to be grinning as the two of them made their way out like thieves in the night.
"C'mon - we'll go back down to the quarry, like you wanted to, remember? I'll show you around, and we can swing by Silver's workshop while we're there! Forget the tea - Mother won't even know we're gone."
Here was excited Dax again; his joy was near boundless as he led his new friend through Blackwater Manor, bound for the quarry proper.
"I'm really sorry about that; Mother kinda blindsided me, so I couldn't get away. Sorry for Oglevy, too; I warned ya, didn't I? Hope they weren't too bad... and I hope Father didn't lean on you too hard, either. If it's okay to ask, what'd he want? Did he mention the watermark?"
Illiad was a bit apprehensive as to where they were going.
"Now hold on a minute, I understand that your mother's tea party is the last thing you want to suffer through, but if we don't get through it now we may have to do it again to make up for it."
He sighed, "I need to make a good impression on your parents or they will never let you go with me back to Troy, now I am confident that your father has at least a bit of respect for me, as you said he was quite appreciative about my offer and has requested a watermark and stamp set. He wants me to design a symbol that combines his, yours, and your mother's marks. If I can make a good impression on your mother now we will likely have much more leniency throughout the rest of the week."
He sighed again as he came closer, "I know it isn't what you want, but I think we should finish your mother's tea party. I'm sure it won’t take too much longer."
Dax's spirit fell through the floor.
"But it'll take forEVER... Mother doesn't-"
One look at Illiad's face told Dax that the unicorn would brook no argument. He sighed, picked up the cravat (scarf?) and began tying it back into place around his neck. His hooves were quite adept at it; apparently, he'd had plenty of practice. His hair was still a mess, though.
Once tied on, he gave an exasperated look to his friend.
"If we gotta, we gotta. I just wish I didn't have to..."
He did give Illiad a momentary look as he headed for the patio doorway once again. "But after this, we're quarry bound, right?"
A slight smile came to Illiad's face. He was glad to see that Dax could agree with him.
"Of course, I can't wait to see what you have waiting for me at the quarry."
He noticed that he still had the ball of juice floating by him, it would be rude to return with it still in the air. He began a filtration spell to remove any fermentation or contaminates from it before taking a drink of it, he was pleasantly surprised at the taste of it. Good quality indeed, I'll have to ask about it when I can. Perhaps the Appaloosan trade deal isn't so bad after all.
As they made for the porch, Illiad could pick up the muffled speech behind the doors:
"... ever again, DO you understand!?"
"But Mommy-"
"You mean MOTHER, young colt! I won't have you embarrassing Daxter in front of his guest! The NERVE of it!"
"I'm sorry, Mom-... Mother."
"You had best believe it... now, NO more shenanigans, are we clear?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Good... now back in your seat; here they come. And don't slouch."
As they started to pass through the doors, Dax's eyes flew open, and he quickly smoothed his mane back into place, right before he crossed the threshold onto the patio. Vylia and Oglevy were seated at the table; Vylia lounging and smiling broadly like there wasn't a care in the world, while Oglevy was giving Dax a look that could curdle lava. The twin butlers were done with their cleaning, and were standing on each side of Mrs. Blackwater, like bookends. At this point, Illiad had again lost track of which was which.
"Oh, so wonderful to see that the cleaning staff still know how to do their jobs, hmmm?"
She laughed like a tinkling bell at her own little joke, then turned her look on Dax.
"Now, your friend has quite a bit of culture here Daxter; you would do well to pay attention when he's speaking to you about his homeland..."
"Yes, Mother."
"... and always be certain you respect his wisdom - there are so many things you could learn from such a stallion as this! Why, there's every possibility that you'd be smarter and stronger for having listened to his advice!"
"Yes, Mother."
"A whole world full of possibilities at your hooftips!"
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, Mother." Oglevy's voice was whiny and sing-songy as he copied Dax.
"I mean, with the possibilities he could present you with - why, you might make enough friends to help the quarry get by once you take it over, Daxter. I'm certain you'll be amazing at it - it's in your blood, you know."
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, Mother." Dax shot his brother a look; Oglevy just smiled.
"Oh, I do hope you'll forgive my enthusiasm, Mr. Easel - I simply think this whole exchange idea is wonderful, and I'm excited that my little Daxter gets to be a part of it; it's for your own good, isn't it?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, Mother."
"Stop it!"
"Stop it!"
"Will you cut it out?"
Oglevy started to continue the game, but before he could, his mother clonked the back of his chair with her hoof. Both Oglevy and Daxter went stock still.
"Enough - sit and have your tea in peace and QUIET."
That final word came out with a very dangerous and low voice. With the two silenced, Vylia looked to Illiad and sighed.
"Have you ever worked with children, Mr. Easle?"
Illiad kept his slight smile as if there was nothing wrong with the situation in front of him. He took his seat with some grace and was again surprised to see that there was fresh drink for him. He turned to face Mrs. Blackwater directly.
"I must admit that I have not had the pleasure. I have found that children have little need for security measures and by the time they have their marks they have outgrown much of their childishness. Speaking of which I still need to sketch yours and Daxter's marks for the design your husband is having me make. It won’t take long if you want to get it over with quickly."
Illiad took advantage of the question to daintily sample the drink in front of him. He found it tasted much better when not magically filtered.
"This is very nice apple juice, genuine Apple family isn't it?"
"But of course, dear - no other apples taste better! We get at least five barrels of cider from them each year... and our own batch of Zap Apple Jam, when it's in season of course."
She sipped daintily at her tea. For the next hour-and-a-half, Vylia smiled, laughed, chatted and carried on as if he were a full-fledged member of high society... and after a bit, he got the impression that her interest in Troy and its culture were genuine. Plus, she was smart - VERY smart.
Through conversation, Illiad discovered that Vylia is, in fact, the Head Accountant for the Blackwater Quarry - and runs a tight ship. She goes into facts and figures that show the unicorn that this mare not only knows her numbers, but lives by them when it comes to expenses. She funds her OWN account, which she uses to buy all her extravagant luxuries - while the family savings steadily grows, untouched save for one or two major repairs to the property.
During this time, Illiad manages to get the tracings of the other two cutie marks - Dax is a little afraid of it, until he sees that it doesn't hurt; Vylia giggles and says it tickles, her melodious laughter eventually becoming girlish giggles.
Oglevy continues to sit in his seat, though he squirms and rolls his eyes the whole time. Eventually, almost an hour into the proceedings, he asks his mother sweetly if he may be excused. Vyila allows it, and with a naughty smirk at Illiad, he leaves the patio.
Poor Dax. He sits calmly in his chair, only interjecting when called upon, and sips at his tea soundlessly. His eyes keep wandering back to the Trojan, but he softly sighs when they find no sign of leaving, and looks away - only to have him look again ten minutes later. Otherwise, he is the model of a perfect little gentlecolt. His emotions, however, relay his boredom, frustration and personal solitude to Illiad easily. Dax was miserable... but he complied with his mother's wishes, all the same.
Eventually though, Vylia admitted she had an appointment to keep, and as it was about the trade agreements with the Griffon Empire, she would not want to be late.
"Truly, darling Illiad, you simply MUST come to tea with me again! It will be fun; I'll invite Luther... it would be good to see him outside of his office, for once."
She gave Illiad a quick hug, then looked over at her colt, in his limp cravat/scarf/whatever.
"Daxter can escort you to your room; I'm certain he has so much to tell you, and he was most well-behaved today."
RIGHT THERE. At the moment she looked at Dax, though her face was only slightly smiling, Illiad felt an enormous wave of love pour out of Vylia's seemingly cold heart and wash over the young stallion; if it had been water, he'd have drowned instantly. This mare had a love for her child that would not only move mountains... it would obliterate them.
"Go on, now - go and enjoy your fine company." She gave a small, honest grin at the unicorn. "We'll speak later, darling - ciao!"
She sauntered off... still quite a sight to see.
Dax groaned as soon as she was out of earshot. "Why did you make me sit through all of that?" He looked exasperated - but his emotions said he wasn't upset at Illiad for it; merely a little disappointed.
Why did I elect to sit through all that? As much as I appreciate all the secret love that's going around I am starting to get woozy from all these pulses. Honestly I would prefer a trip to Ponyville. If only I were a changeling and could consume all these positive emotions, I wouldn't have to eat for months.
As soon as Mrs. Blackwater was far enough away he transferred all his stored emotional energy into his diamond, it now glowed moderately bright. It could be seen glowing through his robes so he distributed it throughout to make the glow a bit more even.
He spoke a bit faster than usual and with a slight sound of distress.
"Because your parents love you enough to make a changeling fat when they let their guard down. And thus you should do what they want even when you don't want to. If you show them respect they will show you some too and all that."
Dax looked at Illiad like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.
"Love me? I mean, I know they do, yeah, but - I mean, Mother takes care of me, and Father sees to it that we get what we need, but... they never say it outright; are you sure?"
Illiad still felt a bit woozy despite shunting the love. If only I could find a shot of pure terror, that would certainly help. Even a splash of cold fear would do nicely, there is simply too much love here. Illiad began to make his way over to the door, stumbling a bit as he did so. He turned towards Dax.
"I need to burn a vast quantity of energy quickly, so we are going to teleport to my room okay?"
Without a confirmation Illiad grabbed Dax with his magic and teleported the two of them safely to his room. Illiad shook his head and looked about, his head was clear once again as he had distanced himself from the flood of love. He quickly moved to Dax.
"I am so sorry, under normal conditions I wouldn’t use magic on anyone without their express permission but if I didn't leave quickly enough I would have drowned from the sheer amount of love your mother has for you. It’s a major downside of being Empathic. If I didn't have this diamond I would have snapped a long time ago. I really do envy changelings at times like these, I'm sure they would love all this emotional energy."
He shook his head again to clear his thoughts. He quickly ensured that everything was physically fine with him.
"I am rambling aren't I? Sorry again for teleporting you here so suddenly."
Dax looked a bit confused. Illiad could tell that the young stallion was completely caught off-guard by the information; it couldn't hide the fact that, even though he was surprised by this information, he was secretly happy to hear it.
"That was actually pretty cool - I always wanted to try magic, but there's very little of it in my family; we've always been the workers and fliers... I don't think there are any unicorns on our family tree."
He grinned a bit, then looked to the Trojan in earnest.
"So... are we still gonna go to the quarry, or are you wanting a rest?"
Illiad looked at Dax sort of skeptically, "I think I know love when it hits me in the face, I'm very sure and I hope not to run into too much more of it without proper precautions. Now I think we should get to the quarry, it has been a long day already and I am unsure how many hours of daylight we have left. I'm sure what you have to show me will be quite impressive."
Dax's muzzle lit up.
"Right! Okay, then - follow me!"
He led the way, nearly galloping, out of the manor and down the path that led to the busy quarry yard.