The Pony Dialogues

by Knowledge

Missing Shade of Red 2.1: Machiavelli's Dialogue (Revised)

Author: Knowledge

Editors: waterpear and Rewrite

Revised: 12/18/2015

Chapter Context: 1.2 Tightropist Dialogue

Finally reaching the long lost North Continent, Andrea has finished escorting the horsefly and the unicorn filly. She now makes her way back to her people and kingdom deep in the Everfree.

-------------------------------------Ponyville Outskirts-----------------------------------------------

A lone buffalo looked down upon the equine village and saw a green orb rise from within, heralding the beginning of Ei Rikr's ever-permeating influence on its innocent populace.

Things must have gone badly already, Andrea thought. She was tempted to go back and save them but knew that there could be no danger as long as that the mind magic pacified the ponies. I will return to our camp tonight. If they come back, I will make sure they are okay.

At Andrea’s back stood the Neverending Forest, the forest that the ponies called Everfree. She noticed a figure looming behind her, casting a shadow over her body.

"Machiavelli," Andrea said simply.

Machiavelli was an old manticore. His mane had originally been deep black, but had greyed over time. The scars all over his face and hide reflected many battles with others of his kind. His yellow coat had fallen off in patches due to a sickness. Andrea knew what kind of manticore Machiavelli was from preference for his stinger on his tail to kill his prey over his paws. "It is clean and effortless, but more importantly, venom allows you time to talk to your prey before they die," he had once explained.

During the third year of Andrea's reign over the State of Nature, Machiavelli had offered his services as an advisor. Deep in the Everfree Forest there is a large valley the manticores call the State of Nature. This also happens to be the valley the refugees decided to settle in order to escape the wars of the South Continent. Machiavelli taught Andrea how to solidify her power.

When Andrea asked him why he didn't rule himself if he was so good at it, he replied that he looked too weak. He didn't say he was weak, just looked weak. Because of this, the buffalo always watched her back in case Machiavelli's stinger may one day be found there. She didn't know what would be worse: the venom painfully and slowly killing her while she was too paralyzed to react or listening to the manticore explaining why he had to do it.

The core theme of Machiavelli's teachings was that only rulers ought to know is that morality is just a tool. Like any tool, one must know when and how to use it, and when other tools would be superior. For instance, sometimes the sovereign needs to be merciful to a criminal to make her subjects more loyal and trusting, and other times the sovereign needs to execute an man to make the masses obey. Morality is for the weak and a ruler who obeys morality becomes weak because it prevents her from using all her strength and resources to maintain her kingdom. When Machiavelli was confronted by the idealist Ei Rikr about this, the manticore replied that the State of Nature will always return to a leader who thinks as he does. "Eventually all the moral leaders find stingers in their back and a less moral leader standing over them preaching their 'crimes' to the masses."

While Andrea did not agree with Machiavelli, she was willing to do anything to protect the refugees. She would burn down the forest if it meant they would be safe. Leave all talk of peace and love to foolish philosophers like Plato, Corvo, and Ei Rikr, thought Andrea. The only reason she took over the State of Nature was because the the manticores needed to be brought in line to prevent them from poaching the refugees.

Andrea was a genius with the fractal spear, bound by her parents in the way of nature’s patterns. With her gifts, she had killed the old sovereign of the forest, the Alpha manticore Thrasymachus, in long, bloody combat. She had a scar along her neck which her shawl hid. Daily, she had to return to oversee the manticore pride and motivate them towards a mutual integration with the weak technology-overdependent refugees.

It was essential that this integration occurred as soon as possible because what little crystallized fractal power they had to keep their technology (security, lights, water treatment, automated farming) going would soon be depleted. There were countless sick at the refugee complex who needed medicine they couldn’t synthesize, and the overcrowded conditions were exacerbating this.

The few willing volunteers who dared to venture out in the forest to clear land or to gather much needed resources needed an envoy of one or two warrior philosophers to keep the peace between them and the aggravated natives. Each day, countless natives and refugees died. This led to an uncertainty of there ever being a point the warrior philosophers and Andrea could give authority back to both parties and rejoin with Ei Rikr to make their school again.

Everyday, gifts would be given to Andrea by the philosophers or the people in thanks for her significant contributions to the project. Tonight, Glaucon, the owl-eyed philosopher and inventor, had told her that he was going to make something special for her, something that was complicated but also old fashioned.

The manticore stood quiet for only a moment. "Do you have no fear of an elder of the pride?"

"What need I of fear, when nothing in this forest including the pride could harm me?" the buffalo said, rolling her fractal spear on the ground before her and then kicked it to activate its crystal. The earth around Machiavelli erupted with the branches of the spear, barely grazing his underside. The manticore didn't flinch.

"You need me," Machiavelli replied, calling her bluff.

Andrea retracted the spear's branches back into it after a long moment. She was awfully tempted to kill him right there and then, but it wouldn't do her any good. If she was going to kill a manticore, it would have to be in front of their pride and it would have to be a better specimen than this sickly creature.

Andrea returned her gaze to the village below, looking intently as she saw flying ponies plummet from the sky in exhaustion. There was a cyan one and a lavender one, and even a yellow one. It still amazed her that the ponies were so colorful.

"Machiavelli, what do you make of these ponies?" the buffalo queen asked the manticore.

Machiavelli flew up a bit with his small wings to see the calm carnage below.

"To me, they seem like some combination of ants and poisonous frogs," he observed.

Andrea signaled for her adviser to explain.

"For starters, look at how they swarm in and out of their shelters and move about in organized lines across their town. Now look at how they congregate in places where there is food laid about on tables. This is the ant part." He pointed to a market area, but not the one where the green sun had emerged from. Even Andrea could see the ponies getting their food and walking back into their houses for breakfast or lunch.

"As for their poisonous frog part, see their bright colors. They are obviously prey, but colors that bright always mean there is something dangerous about them. While I could understand the fliers being brightly colored like birds to attract mates, but that is rarely the case for land animals.”

"The ponies may also be like coral snakes and kingsnakes," Andrea mused. She was referencing how the two breeds of snakes looked very similar yet only was poisonous.

The manticore squinted to get a more detailed look at the ponies.

"Clever adaptation that, but I doubt those creatures are mimicking more dangerous creatures. They look too defenseless not to actually be dangerous."

That is probably the most Machiavellian thing Machiavelli ever said, Andrea thought.

"I would suggest we send someone to test how dangerous they are, but it seems you beat me to it. Well done, my disciple," the manticore praised.

"They are friends," I retorted.

"Your point?" the manticore replied oblivious.

"I hope they remain safe in their new home."

"Naturally, pawns may be expendable but that doesn't mean you want them spent."

Andrea sighed.

"I think there is something off this place," the buffalo said in order to change the subject.

The manticore sniffed the air.

"The place rejects the ways of nature," Machiavelli determined. "The air is stale and there is a lonely mountain." By 'mountains are lonely,' he was referring to the lone mountain which stood in the middle of a large plain. A moutain that large and vertical would naturally exist in a mountain range.

Andrea kept watching and observing.

"They also use a dead language but don't know the common language spoken in the forest. I am starting to think these are just branches of the problem with this anti-natural land," Andrea said. "However, from what little I have experienced in the city, they are a simple and silly people. I envy Ei Rikr and Sophia who can just move away from the chaos in the forest."

Machiavelli laughed at this.

"You and I both know the peaceful life wasn't meant for you. I've seen you fight. You are more a predator than any carnivore. And I know you hate it when Ei Rikr takes the easy way out with zir silly peace mind magic. The high we get when we know our attacks are hurting someone, when nature is telling us we are killing the right way."

Andrea stared at the ponies some more. "We all can change." This was one of the few things Ei Rikr had rubbed off on the buffalo bound by the traditions of her parents.

The manticore shook his large head. "Nothing changes. Nature’s patterns are as set as much as the patterns on your dress and in your spear."

Andrea was not convinced.

"Don't believe me? Well perhaps I should do some philosophy to demonstrate my point," the manticore threatened.

Andrea groaned. She knew that Machiavelli did not bluff. If he threatened something, he was going to do it.

"Now listen to this old manticore's wisdom while you are still alive," he said, deliberately saying 'you' instead of 'I'. "Imagined if you painted me pink and then dressed me up like some civilized sheep, would that change who I am? No, of course not. Who we are is not the clothes we wear or how politely we talk or how pink our fur. Give us the scent of blood and our nature is revealed regardless of what we may say otherwise."

"But wasn't it you who went on and on about what the color of fur meant about the nature of a creature. Perhaps the pink fur would change you somewhat," Andrea retorted, thinking of another pink creature who she had met but an hour earlier.

"That is just sophistry, Andrea." Machiavelli finished his sentence with a roar. "I have had enough standing about, talking about this ugly, unbreathable place. I came here to talk about our plans against Rousseau this evening."

Andrea nodded and turned away from the pony village. As she did so, she noticed a white rabbit sitting atop a butter yellow Pegasus off in the distance, coming from the edge of the forest. She seemed to have been attracted by Machiavelli's loud roar, which made the 'perhaps ponies are not dangerous' less plausible as prey would run away. To be fair, they should have assumed this from the powerful telekinetic and geomancy magic that Sophia could wield at a young age.

Machiavelli had not yet noticed the pony, and Andrea felt obligated not to tell him about the pony and her little animal companion. A little revenge for what he had attempt earlier.

"So who is supporting Rousseau now?" the buffalo asked, trying to distract the old codger.

"Maltus and his son Spencer," Machiavelli replied. It made sense to Andrea that Maltus and Spencer would join the rebellion against her rule. Both had strongly disagreed with her policies of giving the weak (prey and refugees from other civilizations) weapons like fractal spear. Maltus believed this would lead to a population explosion of the lower food chain, which would be unsupportable given the potential natural food supply of the State of Nature valley.

Spencer went further, believing that protecting the weak not only lowers the food supply but also causes the whole population to become weaker by allowing inferior traits to survive. The weak would be less productive, thus sustaining them will lower the available food supply in future generations.

They suggested just letting the weak die from natural causes to prevent their population from growing too large. The manticores were very much in favor of this philosophy for obvious reasons.

Machiavelli became enraptured by his act of explaining Maltus and Spencer's abilities and likely tactics of assault. Andrea ignored him and instead watched the pony with bated breath. When the pony finally got to the hill they were on, the old manticore was saying something about Locke probably being a good against Maltus.

The pony then hovered behind Machiavelli trying to get the lions attention. She spoke in the ancient language and received no response. She even poked the lions shoulder, but she was too soft in both respects to get the veteran manticore to notice her.

The rabbit rolled his eyes and made the deepest guttural cough Andrea had ever heard. Another thing to add to the list of all the things unnatural about this place, she thought.

The manticore jumped so fast that it would not have been surprising if the remainder of his fur remained on the ground beneath him.

"Who has dared to sneak up on me!" he roared.

"Oh, is the great and powerful Machiavelli scared of a little white bunny? Oh how cute! If you are not careful, I might have to get some pink dye to test your claim that you are really as fierce deep down as you pretend," Andrea said as she quickly recomposed herself.

"What? How?" Machiavelli looked down at the little pony and the rabbit. "You made that noise?"

"Yeah, what of it? You were ignoring the lady," the rabbit said, pointing down at the pegasus he rode as if he owned her.

Machiavelli warily looked at the pony. Normally, he wouldn't have cared about a prey animal, but ponies were a mystery to him, and he was still spooked by how the both of them had sneaked up on him. Even mice can't sneak up on me, how is this pony more silent than a mouse?

"Speak, pony, and make your words known to me," the manticore demanded loudly.

The yellow pony squeed and started petting the manticore with a hoof. The veteran blinked, unsure how this creature dared to touch him. He was so unprepared for this response that he forgot that, at this point, he was supposed to have maimed the weak creature before him.

"What's going on?" Machiavelli said, his voice no longer threatening but confused.

The pony said some pretty little nothings, which neither the buffalo or manticore understood. Luckily, the rabbit could translate. "She’s wondering what a big tom like you is doing so far from your home in the Everfree Forest and why you are terrorizing this poor buffalo."

Andrea took offense to this. "You can tell this to your lady: I am no poor little thing that needs rescue. I can take care of myself."

The yellow pony looked shocked and then flew to Andrea and started to do some pathetic posturing.

"That Fluttershy understands the forest language perfectly. She is now trying to apologize for hurting your feelings by implying that you were weak," the rabbit explained.

Andrea crooked an eyebrow at this. "If she knows forest, why does she insist on speaking a dead language."

The rabbit blinked his little beady black eyes in genuine surprise.

"Equestrian is hardly a dead language. As for why she doesn't speak forest, I just assume ponies can't."

Forest language or 'common' consisted of mutually intelligible dialects that corresponded to the sounds that each species could produce. For instance, birds speak in chirps, bears growls, and bugs buzzes, and they can all understand one another. Because the language could be used by almost anyone, it was generally used in areas like forests where lots of different species lived in close proximity to one another.

In contrast, the ancient language used by Equestrians was only possible for Equines and some hooved mammals like buffalo. Since most equines moved north during the Ice Age, the language pretty much died.

"Now tell Fluttershy that you were not offended, before I make you," the rabbit demanded without a ounce of fear for the two.

Andrea did not hesitate to reply to the mad mare apologizing for insulting her strength. Nothing was more pathetic to the buffalo than grovelling for forgiveness.

"Fluttershy, I accept your apology."

Fluttershy shook her head, not ready for forgiveness. Andrea gawked at the extremeness of this pony's desire to grovel before her.

"Young pony, I will be offended again if you continue to apologize, and don't you dare apologize for offending me. I will only be happy when you show that you are sorry by not saying sorry," Andrea said forcefully. Gosh, now I sound like a philosopher.

Fluttershy opened her mouth, said something, then immediately put her hoof to her mouth. She started getting more and more distressed as her mind tried to process Andrea's command. Then she just fainted, causing the rabbit to fall with her.

"What the hay!" shouted the rabbit.

"I think you broke that pony with that fancy word play you learned from the bug," Machiavelli jested from the safety of the buffalo's back. He risked a smell and didn't seem offended by it.

"So are you going to eat her or not?" Andrea asked the manticore, causing the rabbit to blanch.

"No," Machiavelli merely replied. "I will wait for some foolish young lion to take the first bite. While it is not customary to give choice meat to the weaker, I feel it is the young's job to make mistakes so the older ones don't have to. Who knows, these ponies might be poisonous in a way I have never smelt before."

"In other words, you want me to eat her," Andrea guessed.

"It is about time you consider meat," the manticore said seriously.

The rabbit had a sigh of relief. Fluttershy remained broken as her mind couldn't handle the logic loop of wanting to apologize and not wanting to offend her, so she didn't even react to the casual talk of eating her.

"I guess we should leave her then. Let's go see about the situation in the forest," Andrea suggested. So the manticore and buffalo left the distraught white bunny and his pony for a dangerous political situation which had the potential to result in the deaths of hundreds of refugees from the Southern Continents and the citizens of the State of Nature. "But lets leave a portal open so that I can check up on Ei Rikr and Sophia tonight at our camp."

Comments

[goddamnAnimal]

damn, angel is a badass.