//------------------------------// // Season 1, Episode 4: Castle In The Sky // Story: EMPIRE // by JackAnarchy //------------------------------// EMPIRE Season 1, Episode 4: Castle In The Sky There was something therapeutic about well-lubricated gears whirring in perfect unison. Orion leaned his back against the crystal wall of the see-through elevator, watching the holographic digits on the elevator doors climb higher with every passing second. Not to mention trying his very best to ignore the good Doctor, who was looking as if he was being dangled by invisible strings from above. Orion hadn’t the heart to chastise him, though. The earth pony had every reason to be excited. Only a hoofful of individuals had ever had the privilege to visit the President’s office at the very pinnacle of Abrasax Towers. “Oh, I believe I can see my flat from here, right there by Whitehall Park.” The Doctor was practically prancing about the crystal elevator as giddy as a schoolcolt, much to Orion’s amusement. “This is absolutely breathtaking. I’ve never gone past the hundredth floor, myself.” Orion cast a glimpse over his shoulder to the Crown City beneath his feet which was sprawling with life as far as the eye could see. His father had a saying once: From up here, we watch the world turn, masters of our own universe. From up here, in our castle in the sky. Orion had always considered the phrase to be grotesquely arrogant, but from up here, he could at least understand the gravity of those words, and the burden it came with. In the far distance stood the Grand Canterlot Palace, perched magnificently upon the eastern cliff of the Misty Mountain and overlooking the capital in all its grandeur. The last remaining testament of pure Canterlotean architecture preserved through the ages and home to Equestria’s sovereign rulers. A waterfall stood prominently in the background. Its white water cascaded down a series of rocky outcrops, tumbling down the mountain in a series of mini-waterfalls, ever shrouding the palace in a thin silver mist. As such, the keep’s alabaster walls always glistened and shone in the radiance of Celestia’s morning sun. It was magical to say the least. “I would get used to it, Doctor.” Orion slid his hands into his side pockets. “You’ll be making this trip a lot more often, and believe me when I say, it loses its charm after a while.” “I believe I’m beginning to grasp why you would choose to spend your waking hours in Lord Sol’s office.” The Doctor squinted his eyes at the palace’s topmost tower as if to steal a glimpse of Princess Celestia herself. “If it were me in your place, I’d probably never leave.” Orion chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” “Well, that’s easy for you to say.” The Doctor puffed his cheeks and crossed his forelegs. “You weren’t the one stuck underground like a sewer rat the past decade.” “I beg your pardon?” “Nothing, M’lord,” the Doctor replied. The holographic numbers 180 lay splayed on the crystal doors as a chime reverberated throughout the elevator. They were soon greeted by an automated voice of a mare. “President’s Office, Top Floor.” The Doctor’s ears perked. “Wait… was that… was that Sigourneigh Weaver?” “I would so love to tell you, my friend, but unfortunately, her contract demanded her absolute anonymity.” Orion snapped his fingers and flashed a grin. “Oh, shoot, now see what you made me do.” “I am sworn to secrecy.” The Doctor raised his hoof. The doors soon parted. “Welcome back, Lord Abrasax.” As both stallions stepped onto the office’s polished Saddle Arabian marble floors, the Doctor gasped in awe. Orion, however, breathed a sigh of relief. I’m here Papa, I’m home, he thought, making his way to the center of the room. He ran his fingers across the secretary’s mahogany desk. This was where Charity Kindheart used to sit, many years prior to her embarking on her journey to becoming one of Bridleway’s most famous costume designers. Orion sighed at the thought. Charity was one of the few ponies in his wretched foalhood who treated him with kindness rather than scorn. A testament of her namesake. Perhaps I should go say hello one of these days. I wish you the best of health, Aunty Kindheart. The loft was massive. One would even dare to say it rivaled that of Princess Celestia’s throne room. Wide beams of light gushed in through its crystal windows, enhancing the off-white textures of the surrounding walls. The furniture sets were simplistic, minimalist at best, streamlined with polished, smooth and sleek surfaces. Almost a dozen portraits of Abrasax past Presidents lay framed and mounted on the farthest wall, their names carved in gold. “Is that what I think it is?” The Doctor pointed to the grand hickory desk at the far end of the loft. “Is that the Voyager Desk?” Orion rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yes, Doctor. Yes, it is.” The Voyager desk is said to be a gift to Doctor Dorado Abrasax, the first Lord of House Abrasax, by Princess Celestia herself in recognition for his greatest discovery, and for his relentless courage in the face of certain death when all others had failed. It was built from the timbers of the H.M.S. Voyager, the loyal vessel abandoned after being trapped in the ice during the near-suicidal expedition to the Frozen North a thousand years ago. Like the Hermes, and the Abrasax Stones, the Voyager desk stands as one of the many priceless Abrasax Family heirlooms. Orion smiled, it was exactly as he remembered it. Not a pen out of place, nor a book off the shelf. “Oh, sweet Celestia…” the Doctor muttered, looking as if his jaw would come unhinge at any given moment. “To be in Lord Sol’s place of work. His temple of brilliance. This one’s not worthy.” “Just keep your drool off the carpet. It was a gift from King Sharazan of Yakyakistan. Elysium forbid he starts throwing one of his legendary temper tantrums over a bloody stain the next time he decides to visit.” The young Lord then lifted his gaze to the sizeable family portrait which hung prominently above the desk. Painted on the canvas were the regal images of six ponies; their visage captured eternally within the masterful strokes of brush. “Ponies of House Abrasax, I presume?” the Doctor trotted up to Orion’s side. “Well, almost all of them.” He glanced over to the young Lord. Orion offered him a weak smile. “Papa never did manage to get the family back together for another. I’ve lost count on the times I’ve caught him just staring at it in silence, and always with wistful eyes. I’d like to think that this painting reminded him of different times… happier times.” The Doctor rubbed his chin. “I recognize Lord Sol, but sadly not the rest.” Orion was appalled. “Surely you jest, Doctor Whooves.” “Well begging you a pardon, your grace, I have a P.H.D. in Quantum Mechanics and Chrystal Engineering. My syllables, however, did not involve a thorough study of the Abrasax Family tree.” Orion pursed his lips and waved a finger in accusation. “Confess. You’ve been spending time with Clarence, haven’t you?” “I’m not at liberty to divulge any information pertaining to what I may or may not do on my time off,” the Doctor said, a smug grin on his face. “Humor aside, though, I am genuinely curious.” “Cheeky.” Orion grumbled to himself. He then gestured to the snowy pegasus mare with a bright golden mane seated next to Lord Sol. A kind smile gracing her muzzle. “That’s Lady Diana, Papa’s late wife. I suppose you may call her my mother, but unfortunately, we never acquainted. She passed soon after the birth of my younger brother, Leo. Papa used to tell me wonderful stories about her, and that she was the kindest, most beautiful mare he had ever known.” “I’m terribly sorry,” the Doctor said with a heavy sigh. “I’m pretty certain that you and Lady Diana would have gotten along swimmingly.” “So I’ve been told.” Orion then gestured to a pair of ponies, a tawny pegasus colt and beige unicorn filly, seated in front of Lord Sol and Lady Diana. “Those are the twins, Corvus and Carina, and that’s—” he pointed at the silver teenage earth pony with a mane of marigold and lime highlights, next to Lady Diana “—my darling sister, Cassiopeia.” “That’s Lady Cassiopeia?” The Doctor’s stare was so intense, his eyes threatened to pop right out of their sockets. “My word, she was even more beautiful then. You know, as a colt, I used to have this enormous crush on her and—” He stopped the moment he noticed Orion’s deadpan stare and swallowed hard. “Uhm… just forget I said anything.” “My gratitude for sparing me the details of your liquid dreams.” Orion then gestured to the final pony seated next to Lord Sol. “And of course my brother—” A shock, like lightning, ran through him as he balked at the image of a maroon unicorn stallion with a mane of charcoal black, and piercing crimson eyes. A deep scar ran across the top of his muzzle, long and crooked, starting a hair above his left eye and ending on the right side of his jaw. A ghastly medal of honor he had gained during the Dorssian Invasion. The young Lord felt his hand tremble. He curled them into fists, gritting his teeth as he turned away. “My brother… Ares. I think you know him well enough.” His voice was sour as poison. “After all, his colorful reputation has a way of proceeding him.” Orion stepped away in the direction of the crystal glass window. “Ryan…” The Doctor’s gaze softened with concern. “I know that I maybe overstepping my boundaries here, but despite the way you feel about him, he is still your brother.” “If you had seen the way he looked at me at the reading, Doctor, I fear that you may disagree.” His dark violet eyes settled on a group of weather ponies working diligently in preparation for the downpour scheduled later today. “It was as if the wrath of the Maker was given flesh that day… and if not for Clarence…” Orion chest heaved with a heavy sigh. “But then again, perhaps if it were me in his hooves, I would bloody well feel the same way… at least that’s what I keep telling myself.” “Please don’t.” The Doctor took a step forward as Orion glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. The cause of Lord Ares’ grief isn’t a burden that you should bear.” He trotted over to Orion’s side and rested on his haunches. “You said it yourself, Lord Sol chose you for a reason, and it’s about time you start believing, not just in your father, but also in yourself. Just as I believe in you,” the Doctor said with a bright smile. Orion offered a smile in return. “Thank you. A stallion couldn’t ask for a better friend.” “Friend, and accomplice, mind you.” The Doctor nudged Orion’s leg with the butt of his elbow. “If the A.E.G.I.S. Initiative does indeed go pear-shaped, know that I have absolutely no intention of spending the rest of my bloody days in Tartarus by my lonesome.” “Believe me, Doctor Whooves.” Orion tucked his hand into his side pocket, and pulled out a piece of toffee. “Should our plans come apart, prison would actually be the least of our worries.” He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. “I simply must visit this Ponyville one of these days. Bon Bon’s candies are simply to die for.” “Well, well, I see that his eminence, Lord Abrasax is already making himself at home.” The sound of the smoky voice with a Trottingham accent turned their attention to the alabaster unicorn stallion in the midst of stepping out of the elevator. He stood with a sense of bold presence, a clear reflection of both his pride and status as an Entitled. “Hello there, Old Sport.” He wore the warmest of smiles. “Uncle Fancy…” Orion’s face lit up like fireworks. He rushed the older stallion, falling to his knees and throwing his arms around Fancy’s neck. “Uncle Fancy, by the Old Gods, how I’ve missed you so!” He hugged him tightly. Fancy Pants staggered backwards as he fell to his haunches. His face puffed up like toad. “I missed you too, Old Sport, but like all living creatures, I do have to breathe.” The Doctor had to smother himself to avoid sniggering out loud or risk being on the receiving end of Orion’s scorn. “My apologies, Uncle Fancy.” Orion broke the hug and proceeded to pat the wrinkles from stallion’s charcoal tuxedo and waistcoat. “This is most unbecoming of me.” Fancy fixed his wavy azure mane. “Oh, phish-posh, old boy. I’m right as rain, and besides, it’s not the worst thing you’ve done. Remember the time you tackled me into that pool at the Lulamoon Grand Hotel in Haywaii, and in front of the Duchess of Windsor, no less.” Orion groaned. “That was years ago, Uncle Fancy. I was six, and you did promise me a game of Polo.” “You know, the Duchess still brings it up over tea,” Fancy said with a chuckle. “She said it was the most hilarious thing she had ever seen.” Orion sighed. “I miss those days. I miss Papa.” Fancy patted Orion on his shoulder. “So do I, Old Sport. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him. But you’re home now, and that’s all that matters.” He stood up and waved of his hoof. “Now stand up and let me have a good look at you.” Orion’s lips curled into a grin. He climbed to his feet and turned in place, arms spread apart like a mannequin in a boutique. The older stallion studied him from top to toe. His azure eyes followed every curve and couture, from the cross-stitches in Orion’s waistcoat to the golden broach forged in the shape of a crossed star, and the lavender stone encased within. “By Celestia’s rising sun…” Fancy choked up, putting a hoof to his muzzle as he grew misty-eyed. “You look just like him when he was your age.” Orion had to laugh. “Albeit the fur and horn, I presume.” “I can see the years in Stalliongard did little to relieve you of your sharp sense of humor.” Fancy made his way to the center of the loft with Orion by his side. “Although, I have to admit, it was one of the things I missed the most about you.” “Humor, yes. Sharp, however, isn’t the word I’d use to describe it,” the Doctor interjected, sauntering up to the older stallion as Orion’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “Doctor Hooves, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Platinum.” He extended a hoof in greeting. “Oh, Doctor Hooves. What a pleasant surprise.” Fancy took the stallions hoof and gave it a hearty shake. “By the way, congratulations on your new appointment.” “The honor is all mine, Lord Plati—” Fancy Pants lifted a hoof. “Please Doctor, call me Fancy. Formalities are reserved for acquaintances, not amongst friends. Besides, etiquette has a way of making me nauseous.” The Doctor shot Orion a glance and smiled smugly. “Now where have I heard that one before?” To which the young Lord responded with an obvious scowl. “And by the way, Old Sport, your aunt Fleur sends her love, and to tell you that she feels absolutely dreadful for missing your big day.” Fancy shrugged. “I swear that witch Photo Finish works my poor chéri to the bone.” “Please tell Aunt Fleur that I thoroughly understand. I know the life of a top fashion model can be rather taxing, even for her. Besides, she is one of the most sought after mares in all Equestria. I certainly wouldn’t wish to spoil her opportunities. Have you spoken to Ruby and Onyx recently?” Fancy’s eyes lit up at the mention of his son and daughter. “As a matter of fact, I did, and hearing that you were finally coming home drove them absolutely ecstatic. You know how fond they are of you,” the older stallion replied with a grin. “They’ll be flying home from Altissia the week after, and just in time for the gathering.” Orion chuckled. “Altissia? My, those lucky devils.” The sounds of sliding elevator doors and boisterous chatter sounded behind them. Orion, Fancy, and the Doctor each turned their gazes to the sight of half a dozen stallions of different races stepping into the loft. Old Gods above, give me strength, he thought as he buried his forehead in the palm of his hand. The tasteless banter. The extravagant Armane suits. The eye-watering stench of Saddle Arabian perfume and Akkadian tobacco. Heck, Orion would recall his father’s old corporate entourage anywhere. “Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, Old Sport.” Fancy Pants turned to Orion with a cheeky smile. “I took the liberty of informing the company directors that you’d be in your office. They’ve been positively dying to meet you.” “How very thoughtful of you, Uncle Fancy.” Orion spoke through clenched teeth as he forced a smile. “And just when I thought this day couldn’t possibly get any worse.” “The sooner you get this over with, the better. Just think of it as pulling off a Band-Aid. Quick and painless.” Fancy took a seat, ushering the Doctor to do the same with a wave of his hoof, in which the good Doctor complied. “And besides, I’ll be here with you every step of the way.” “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Orion glanced at Fancy, who was looking at him at the corner of his eye, an obvious smirk gracing his muzzle. “Considering how I’ve waited ten long years for this moment. Do an old stallion a favor, and try not to disappoint. Eh, Old Sport?” Orion chuckled low under his breath. “I’ll see what I can do.” The sudden sound of frantic hooves against the floor robbed the young Lord of his immediate attention, drawing his gaze to a young earth pony mare about his age. She was petit, with off-white fur, and cyan eyes. The mare muttered through frantic breaths, saddle bags slapping against her sides as she bumbled her way around the group of stallions. Her two-toned mane and tail were a mess, a reflection of her anxiety. In fact, Orion almost felt sorry for the poor soul. But she is a cute one, if I don’t say so myself “I’m here!” she exclaimed as she slid to a stop, almost tripping over herself. “Sorry I’m late, Lord Platinum—” she turned to Orion and bowed her head. “—Lord Abrasax. It’s my first day, and this whole building is a maze.” Orion stared humorlessly at the older stallion. “If this is your way of implying that I must fulfill my duties as the family heir, know that I find your sense of humor both dark and appalling.” he said as the mare’s eyes shot wide open. “By Celestia, Old Sport, what do you take me for? It’s nothing of the sort, and besides, that’s talk for another time. Preferably over a bottle of some fine Umbran Wine.” Fancy Pants chuckled as Orion rolled his eyes. “And I remember how much you simply adore surprises.” He then gestured with a point of his hoof. “Orion, meet your new personal assistant, Miss Coco Pommel. Miss Pommel will be tasked with devising your personal schedule, and to assist you in any way.” “Oh, that’s just beautiful. I do all the heavy lifting and he gets the personal assistant.” The Doctor grumbled under his breath. “Did you say something, Doctor?” Both Orion and Fancy inquired in unison. “Nothing, M’lords.” Coco beamed. “That’s right, if you need anything. Anything at all, Lord Abrasax, just let me know.” She stepped forward, looking eager to please. “And I’ll be there on the double.” “Tea,” Orion said suddenly. “Um…” Coco’s expression washed blank with confusion. “Excuse me?” “Tea, Miss Pommel, do you make it?” His gaze wandered over to the group of stallions from before for a brief moment, still caught in their pompous conversations, before returning to the mare in front of him. “It’s been a long morning, and I believe I’m feeling rather parched.” “Oh… Oh!” the Coco snapped to attention. “Of course, Lord Abrasax, what kind of tea would you like?” “Surprise me.” Orion’s mouth twitched into a smile, his eyes glinting with a sly humor. “I do love surprises.” “I’ll get on it right away, and by the way—” Coco stopped and glanced over to the group stallions behind her “—shall I prepare cups for your guests?” “Worry not about our little guests, Miss Pommel.” Orion’s violet eyes burned with a subtle glow, like malevolent wisps in the dead of night. “I assure you, they won’t be staying long.” “Um… right.” Coco swallowed hard. “And… and you Lord Platinum… Doctor Whooves, sir?” “Thank you, my dear, but I’m quite fine,” Fancy replied. “Me too, I’m swell,” the Doctor said. “Alright then. I’ll… go get the tea.” The mare darted away. Fancy Pants nudged the Doctor with his hoof. “And here we go. Steady yourself, Doctor Whooves, this is the part you don’t want to miss.” The Doctor glanced back at Lord Fancy with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll take your word for it.” “Gentlecolts!” Orion exclaimed at the top of his voice and the loft fell to an immediate silence. The six stallions, clearly in their twilight years, stood frozen as if Hades had called them by name. “My apologies for having you wait at my account. Please, come on in.” He waved his hand. They shuffled inwards, moving like a herd of cockroaches with spurious smiles plastered on their wrinkled little faces. Orion’s gaze filled with disdain, narrowed in on the worst of them all, a beige unicorn stallion by the name of Dollar Bills, Abrasax Industries’ Chief Financial Officer. Everything about that pompous old windbag caused the young Lord undue irritation. From Bills’ poorly-fitted suit, to his haughty auburn mutton chops protruding from the side of his muzzle like the gills of a fish. As a colt, Orion had desired nothing more than to rip them off with his bare hooves and then relish in his screams. “Lord Abrasax,” Dollar Bills spoke. His voice was coarse, almost like griffin claws to a chalkboard. “On behalf of everypony here, I welcome you back to Abrasax Industries. It has been too long.” He bowed, and the other ponies following suit. “Come now, I’m certain you fine gentlecolts didn’t come all this way just for pleasantries.” Orion tucked his hands into his pockets. His smile glittered like poison. “I certainly did not.” Dollar Bills blinked. “Well, on behalf of my fellow associates and I, we look forward to working closely with you as the new President of Abrasax Industries.” Bills levitated his oaken pipe from his coat pocket to his muzzle and clenched the bit between his teeth. “And like your father—” Orion bent down and snatched the pipe from the stallion’s mouth. “Please don’t.” He then shoved the pipe in Bills’ chest, leaving the stallion looking as dumbfounded as ever. “I believe the air is toxic enough as it is.” “Well…” The old stallion proceeded to clear his throat. “As I was saying, Lord Abrasax.” Bills put his pipe away as he continued. “In the name of your father, Lord Sol, may Celestia bless his soul, we hope to honor his memory and usher in a new age for Abrasax Industries the way he would.” Bills smiled. “By keeping things the way they are.” The young Lord, however, said nothing in return. Silence fell between them like a smothering cloak. “Now that’s settled,” Bills exclaimed with a stride of confidence. “Know that we all support you a hundred and ten percent. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what is your first order of business, Your Grace?” His band of merry ponies proceeded to put on their most eager faces like a pack of starving street dogs waiting on tattered scraps from a messy table. Orion felt his insides churn at the sight of it. “I was saving this for our meeting later today, but since you asked so politely, Mister Bills.” Orion let his mouth turn up at the corner in a bitter smile. “You’re all fired.”