Chimera 21: Changelings and Ponies
Prophet watched the flames, the events of Silent's dream unseen. The massive gray Alicorn took a pull from a bottle of wine, levitating it to his chest as he snorted. He was laying on his belly, facing his fireplace. To his right, curled up in a blanket and sleeping on his plush chair was the Crown Princess Atalanta.
The ancient creature watched the two shaman utter their chants while Luna was in a trance. Not doubt, he figured she was dwelling within his dreams and opening a door sealed long ago by his very own father. The endless flames within the hearth crackled and blazed in time with the chants, rising and falling as the image displayed the powers of earth and water encompassing the body of the prince as it was held aloft by the spirits of the elements. Silent Wing dangled, as if something held him by the scruff of the neck, but he was not harmed. The smoke from the incense wrapped around his legs, starting at the tips of his hooves and snaking their way upwards until they encountered his body. They split apart, the smoke encircling the barrel of his body and half unfurling his wings.
He knew - had known - Dalesong. Feeling her presence through his scrying magic had brought an old pain to bear. The bottle appeared shortly after feeling her faded aura. Even in death, she exuded peace and love, a gentleness gifted from her own mother so very long ago.
There was suddenly an audible click in the back of his head and Silent Wing lurched in the air. Prophet blinked, tilting his great head to one side. A humorless smile broke through his monotone expression, his swirling eyes speeding up in a flicker of excitement. Something within the prince had just been unlocked. Prophet concentrated on the colt so he might discern exactly what. He already knew, his farsight most often a curse in his eyes than a boon, but to actually see it happen was far more remarkable than knowing in his mind. Still, nothing remarkable had changed, saved for the reintroduction of ancient memories of a past age.
Silent Wing gasped, his eyes shooting wide open, blazing with golden light. His form quivered, but not from pain. Neither was there joy. It was as though his awakened part was taking in its own first breath in thousands of years. Old memories were now flooding the young princes' mind - though Prophet smirked at the thought of 'young' being applied to the colt.
"This is why test tube dragons can't have nice things," smirked Prophet to the sleeping princess. She mumbled something and rolled over, snuggling deeper into her blanket. His smile faded, becoming soft for a moment. He took another drink from the bottle and sighed.
He had seen many different futures, the many different threads branching off from the slightest of decisions, the kicking of a pebble, the ripple on the surface of a pond. This was his gift; to see the possible futures, even if he did not want to. Prophet tried to remain in a state of constant drunkenness to dull the visions. For the most part, it worked. However, there were days he would be drunk and still unable to unsee the terrible futures before him.
Never could he get used to the bleak possibilities.
"Did you know you and the prince are actually related?" he asked Atalanta quietly. Of course, he didn't want to wake her. She was simply too adorable sleeping where she was, her little gossamer wings rising and falling with her breathing form. "Sort of a great-great-great-great-great-great grand-uncle. I'm sure I may have missed a few 'greats' in there."
"Talking to the filly again?" asked a familiar voice behind him.
"Discord, you left me to foalsit again," grunted Prophet, shifting again to the fire. His face reflected the orange glow, the flames dancing in his eyes. "I hate children."
"You two are related," answered the draconequus as he emerged from the shadows and over the Atalanta's sleeping form. "You should spend more time with family. Besides, you're too drunk to hate children." He rested his paw and claws on top of the back rest, peering down at the princess. "Cute kid," he remarked.
"Well, you went to Canterlot, didn't you?"
Discord made a face. "As much as I enjoy a chaotic battle, I really wish Daddy dearest would put some consideration into certain things."
Prophet arched a brow. "Such as?"
"Everything. I mean, I love chaos. I embody chaos. I AM chaos! But I like fun chaos, not destructive chaos. I've never deliberately killed anypony. Well, maybe a few times." He paused, pondered, then shrugged indifferently. "Doesn't matter. The point is, after a thousand years, I do regret my actions. I may not agree with Sunbutt... there are days I absolutely loathe her self-righteous hypocrisy."
"Don't wake the filly," reminded Prophet with a grunt. "She's done nothing but ask me questions all day and I for one am glad to not deal with the pestering. What did you do to Rose? Isn't she supposed to be watching her?"
"Visiting her mother," shrugged Discord nonchalantly. "I really think she wanted to get away from me. Something about me being too dazzling and handsome to contain herself. Of course, constantly turning her needlework into living snakes might have had something to do with it. I'm not sure. Her foal seemed to enjoy it."
"I'm sure. You've become quite taken with Ata." Prophet grinned at the draconequus.
"She's adorable," countered Discord. "I can't believe Tappis and Tappaz want to keep playing manipulative mommies with her. Their condition can be easily fixed if they would take a moment to stop blaming the world for their infertility. Oh, by the way, my half brother finally has his memories. He's really going to hate his family now." A wicked gleam emerged in his eyes. "Should be fun!" he added, thinking of the bedlam to ensue.
"You just included yourself," Prophet pointed out delicately with a grin.
"Oh, minor details. He's never met me, so I'm not too worried about it."
"I know," commented Prophet. Pointedly, almost rudely he leveled a hoof at Atalanta. "Are you here to pick her up and take her home? Those two queens have something they need to do or else all this hell unfolding in my flames won't mean squat."
"Ah, the climax is coming, I know." Discord gently scooped her up, feeling very much like a goofy, loving uncle. "At least she likes my chocolate rain."
"Make it rain bourbon and I'll be your friend for life."
"But I hate you."
"I know. The feeling's mutual, if that makes you feel better."
Discord stuck his tongue at Prophet. "One of these days we're going to have to finish that argument."
"If you say so. Now get out of here and let me go back to my bottle. I'm busy."
Discord glared at him, shrugged, and with Atalanta tucked in the crook of his lion's arm, snapped his fingers with the other and disappeared.
Prophet was alone. Within a few days there would be very special prisoners in the vaults above him. This would mean entertaining more guests. He hated the bother, but it was necessary. Besides, he had always wanted to see them, curse his curiosity! The shadow was going to seek out their friend, Twilight Sparkle and make a try for her. He had seen it, saw what she might become, another Nightmare. Was the world ready for it? There was a lurking danger of what had just ended on the other side of the world paling in comparison to the power threatening to engulf powerful beings.
His horn glowed, focusing on the flames of his eternal fire.
Twilight Sparkle appeared in the flames, her mind still locked down by the will of Flamespyre. No, Prophet rolled his eyes at himself, this was not magic at work. She still had her son Star Journey with her and he was busy with his nose in a book as she looked on dreamily. They lay within the pretty garden prison Flamespyre had ordered constructed, large enough for the mare and her child to exercise, but completely cut off from the outside world. A dozen changeling guards were constantly in the chamber this prison had been built within, watching the Alicorn and caring for her. A doctor and a team of nurses constantly came in and out of the room, taking notes and readings, administering the dosages of both mother and son in their food, to keep them sedate and agreeable. Then there was the giant changeling who constantly stared at her as if she held a secret just for him to discover. There was something else, of course, the so-called Oblivion effect to prevent either mare or colt from using their magic.
Why was Flamespyre terrified of Twilight Sparkle? Of course, Prophet knew why, but the prospect of her bearing the dragon's future children had been some of the more disturbing images the ancient Alicorn had ever seen. Of course, being the Bearer of Magic - the one thing Flamespyre hated above all else - might have been the primary reason. He wanted to control her, needed to control her. To dominate her magic and take it for himself, to take all magic for himself and give it to those fanatically loyal to him was only part of his scheme.
But to sire new monsters through her?
Even Prophet shuddered at the idea of more chimeras crawling over the planet more powerful than a dragon.
Speaking of dragons, they had remained quiet during the whole, short war. It was dying out, the last few battles just looming on the horizon. There were few places left for those still willing to fight to go. They had not been idle and the Dragonking's forces made a point to skirt around the borders of dragon territory. There had been some sort of uneasy truce between Flamespyre and the dragon leaders. It surely would not hold. Once the lesser races had fallen, it would be but a matter of time before the final great clashes of a war renewed would begin. Flamespyre had warred upon the dragons in the past, faring well, but never able to fully bring the great brutes to heel. Though true dragons could not cast magic, they were still highly resistant and could even give the great Blood Assault pause before committing to battle with one.
The Dragonking's brood were only partially dragons; they were all chimeras. They were deadly combatants, but even a few hundred angry dragons bent upon destruction would press the children and their forces sorely. The battle would be even, with no obvious victor.
Flamespyre sought an edge through accruing all the magic in the world so he could have a definitive advantage. In the meantime, for the sake of destruction and mayhem, he would undoubtedly unleash his changelings and their allies upon the dragons, if only to work as an amusing distraction. Prophet knew this and knew the monster's tendencies well. Flamespyre hid his weaknesses by hurling others into his battles, preferring to take a seat in the back and let others do his work.
"Living in a shattered world sucks," commented Prophet with a resigned sigh. This wasn't the first time he had seen madness destroy everything, leaving nothing but pain and misery in its wake. He assumed it would not be the last time. The ancient creature pulled a large tome from nothing and a quill and ink. Through his bleary eyes, he held it open before him, pen at the ready as he gathered his thoughts. History needed to be written and this was his sole purpose in life. Despite his state of inebriation, the Alicorn's script was flowing and very neat, thousands of years and millions of pages having refined his writing skill to a masterful art. Prophet was the finest writer in the world and had been so since even the days of Starswirl the Bearded.
He chuckled at the memory, remembering the pony before he had gotten his beard.
As he wrote, several other volumes akin to the one before him appeared, each one with its own quill and ink. Soon the sounds of scribbling filled the cozy room as Prophet wrote, annotating the history as it unfolded before his mind. He could see it all; from big things to little things. His responsibility to provide the world with the actions and words of its inhabitants for posterity was taken seriously.
Writing of the rise and falls of kingdoms and empires was all well and good, but the remarkable truth in Prophet's words was the neutrality with which he wrote. No one creature could control what he wrote or how he wrote it. To maintain his neutrality in all things, the Alicorn had long ago concluded he had to be away from the influence of others save for a select few.
The Topaz Queens happened to fall in that select group. Not because they were overtly special or had some grand destiny before them, but because Prophet did often become lonely in his chosen way of life. He was actually fond of children of all races and was glad to have met the likes of Atalanta and Star Journey most recently, but the oddity of the twin queens endeared themselves to him, despite their twisted nature. To him, they were fillies with whom he had imparted some of his wisdom, hoping they would overcome the path they followed and choose a different one. To his chagrin, the harder he tried to lead them, the further down the path he hoped they would not follow they did indeed go.
He could not alter the paths once they had been chosen. Blood Assault had molded them, prepared them once he realized his father would soon walk the earth again. For sure, they had their own dose of insanity, mostly due to their particular breeding. Every now and again, symbiote changelings were born, each unable to live without the other. This was even rarer in queens. So far as any history book noted in any of the changeling kingdoms, this was only the second case ever. There was potential in the queens. They had been tasked with protecting the daughter of Chrysalis and the son of Twilight Sparkle. Their ordeal had just begun. Their opponent would be the most unexpected and shocking.
Prophet sighed, feeling a headache come on. Another swig of the bottle did nothing to chase it away. He knew he wasn't doing himself any favors by drowning in alcohol, but being immortal tended to dissolve health issues. His body could heal whatever punishment he threw at his liver, allowing him to drink to his heart's content without worry of permanent damage.
Ten thousand years of practice couldn't be wrong.
Still, living this long without significant powers was an odd combination. Prophet was essentially a glorified historian who could see snatches of possible futures. He made few acquaintances and ever fewer friends because he knew they would eventually fade away and die. On top of that, denying Flamespyre leverage over him was important. The twisted monster used to come to him and demand to know what the future held for him, but the Alicorn resisted. Flamespyre had beaten him, battered him, left him a bloody pulp more times than he would like to remember, but the Alicorn told him nothing. Eventually, long ago, the dragon had left him alone, leaving the old pony to keep the history of the world.
Where he kept the books was anyone's guess. All the world's history could be found here, but nothing in regards to magic unless it was tied to the past in some way. There were no spell books, save for a few for the Alicorn's personal use. Despite his vast age and knowledge, Prophet was actually a poor magician when compared to the skills of fellow Alicorns like Twilight Sparkle. Why, even Princess Mi Amore Cadenza was stronger with her magic. This did not bother him as the possession of great power seemed bothersome and not worth the trouble. Ponies and changelings and other creatures tended to come to powerful figures to either ask for something or try to challenge that power.
"Now this game of life on the road to death shifts, some things set in place while others dangle over the void of uncertainty," murmured Prophet as he closed his massive book. He had waited until the ink was dry before lovingly running a hoof over the cover. His only true love anymore was his writing, the world's history. "The Elements of Harmony are going to come into play, for good or for ill, to heal or damage. I will not look to see. They have been silent to this point, onlookers of the great drama and merely going along for the ride."
He spoke often to himself, having gotten used to it. The silence bothered him, despite his desire for seclusion and separation from the world. The smirk on his face reflected the irony.
"Those fleeing Equestria will go to the one place they feel is safe." Prophet flicked his horn and the books disappeared in a wink of magic, quill and ink following. He mulled through his mind thoughts, then came to a quick decision, setting his lips unhappily as he was about to engage in the art of socializing with a complete stranger. "Breaking my own rule," he complained to himself as he adjusted his legs under him.
The fire flickered as he focused upon it, his horn aglow with magic. The image before him was that of a bed. Within that bed were a pair of ponies cuddled up to each other. Prophet held his gaze for a moment as he struggled as to how he should wake up his target. Shrugging and rolling his eyes, he sighed at himself and his hesitation. "Wake up!" he snapped irritably.
The first pony bolted upright. Prophet could see it was a white stallion with a blue mane. He was clearly a Unicorn. "Who's there?" he called out loudly.
His partner was right behind him, blinking blearily at the sudden intrusion. She was a pretty pink mare, with a lovely mess of bedhead. "Shining, what is it? I thought I heard -"
Prophet interrupted her mumbling politely, "You. Back to sleep." Shining Armor blinked, yawned, and flopped back to slumber, snoring peacefully. "Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, my name is Prophet. I am a long time watcher, first time caller. We need to talk..."
Twilight Sparkle appeared content, unaware from within her prison a pair of bright solid blue eyes regarded her with wary curiosity. She watched Star Journey bound after an illusionary butterfly, her mind not registering it was a false creation, her magic suppressed within the confines of her cell. Her movements were mechanical, controlled, set for her to just be happy and relaxed, her thoughts set to believe this was and always had been her world. The ordeal under the tender ministrations of Flamespyre had left her mind weakened and on the brink of the collapse he did not want. She lay in delightful repose upon a thick bed of green grass as an artificial breeze sent the smells of a late spring day to her senses, leaving her in a state of bliss. In her little false world created by another, all there was for her lay in the form of her equally controlled son. Both were in a stupor of joy and simplicity designed specifically to maintain peaceful compliance.
The former Captain Myzanum was uneasy. There was something unsettling in viewing this from the outside of the cell. He could see in, but Twilight Sparkle and her child could not see without. Placed in charge of her well-being, he could not help but wonder how proficient she was said to be and how easily the Dragonking had broken her. Seeing her somehow made him think of his former queen.
It was a bitter thought, filled with regret.
Dressed in the steel armor of a Topaz officer, the garb was more like overlapping plates of armor, polished to a sheen. Beneath it was thin red padding with dangling straps ending with bronze buttons in a splayed pattern around the openings for his shoulders. His shins and forelegs were armored in the same polished steel, held in place with thin leather straps. The giant warrior knew Chrysalis would soon be in the grip of the Dragonking. Flamespyre had toyed openly to the big changeling the idea of giving her over to him, wiping her mind clean and leaving her an adoring mate.
It was a cruel joke. Myzanum saw it as such and politely declined the offer. No, that bridge had been burned the moment he plunged his spear into her chest.
Tappis and Tappaz materialized behind him in a great puff of smoke rather suddenly, the loud crackle of magic making the big warrior whirl around in alarm. Seeing a pair of battered queens leaning upon each other heavily, he immediately barked out orders to get them assistance. Guards snapped to and disappeared down corridors to fetch help while Twilight's doctor zoomed over from his station, his crooked horn already charging with healing magic for the queens.
Once they saw they were safely within their castle, the Topaz Queens stood tall and proud, allowing the doctor to apply his trade upon them, cowed into silence by the withering stare they both levelled upon him when he started asking questions.
"Attend Our needs in silence," they spoke harshly to him before shifting to Myzanum. "Your former queen is a formidable opponent."
The giant nodded in acknowledgement. "You survived," he remarked with surprise.
"Stay your tongue, Emerald traitor," snapped Tappis as she winced in pain. The doctor was probing one of her wounds. To him, she snarled, "Take care, fool! Your touch brings pain upon Us!"
"Apologies!" he stammered, shifting his energies to being more careful. Fear creased his features as he had never seen either of his queens in this condition before.
"We require love," growled Tappaz, casting her eyes hungrily about. They found and settled upon Star Journey. She licked her lips. Tappis felt her thoughts and was soon staring at the colt. "No, the children are forbidded to us," both said as they shuddered from Chrysalis' reaction to her daughter's essence within them.
Myzanum was stoic, remaining silent for the moment. His presence was ignored.
"Wraith! Our Wraith is no more!" they wailed, leaning into each other. "Our governess is passed beyond, failed in her duties!"
"What news from Canterlot?" he asked carefully.
Dull golden eyes gleamed at him hungrily. "Taken!" they crowed, their lamenting a memory until they chose to remember it again. "Equestria is in the claws of the Master! The Dragonking rules supreme! The fallen queen is his prisoner. Celestia will meet her death at the next eclipse. Dragonking Flamespyre has commanded it."
"Then it is finished?"
"Not quite," replied another voice, more calm and serene. It was also not disjointed. Myzanum turned his head slightly to his right to catch the pale Unicorn form of Draccaria walk silkily into his field of vision. "There are a few loose ends here and there. The last of Equestria's defenders will be brought under heel. One last Alicorn remains against us." She bore concern for her friends, the two queens.
"Dear sister," they greeted her with relief. "Did you see what the Emerald Queen did to us? Our wounds grieve us so!"
She came before Tappis and Tappaz, giving each queen a quick embrace and a smile. "Oh, my dears," Draccaria exclaimed, stepping back to take in their hurts with her golden eyes, "Father was correct to tell you not to feed upon Princess Atalanta."
Myzanum lurched out of his staring with sudden and sputtering outrage, "What?!" Despite his feelings towards Chrysalis, he was very fond of the little princess. Hearing of changeling feeding off the love of another changeling was akin to cannibalism; hearing one royal household feeding upon the offspring of another royal was cause for war. Bristling with indignation, he strode forward, demanding answers, "Explain yourselves!"
Draccaria sighed and held him firm with her magic, her horn having flared to life. "Calm yourself, my dear Myzanum. You're on our side, now. Royal matters of state will remain that. Common soldiers such as yourself simply do as you are commanded and obey without hesitation." Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "Or must I remind you of the treason you already committed in pledging yourself to me?"
He growled, shivering with rage before letting it go forcibly, snorting loudly as his shoulders slumped. "My apologies."
She smiled beautifically at him. "Accepted. Now be a dear and fetch love for the queens. Their magic is exhausted and must be replenished!"
Humiliated to the point of being reduced to a simple servant, the giant stiffened at the thinly veiled rebuke, but bowed to Draccaria. "By your leave," he intoned, then started to go about his appointed task.
"Captain," Draccaria asked him expectantly, "aren't you forgetting something?"
He paused in mid step, turning to face her. "Madame?" His wings betrayed his irritation, buzzing slightly.
"Respect your queens," she said with a sweet smile, her voice dripping with poisoned honey. Her tail flicked at him.
Oh, how she loved to drive the dagger home and twist it!
"Majesties," he rumbled to the Topaz Queens, bowing lower to them then he had at Draccaria, "with your permission."
He was dismissed with unfriendly smiles and curt nods, Draccaria staring after him with dark humor. "Leave us!" she announced to the room imperiously, tracking her thoughts to her beloved queens.
Quietly the changelings departed, some on hooves, others taking flight with their gossamer wings. Once the room was clear, the dragon-turned-Unicorn spun around slowly and went before the illusion-filled prison and gazed within. As she did so, Discord appeared in a bright flash of white light, having placed Atalanta in her room. Placing his paw and claw behind his back, he interlocked them and padded slowly forward, ignoring the sullen glares of the Topaz Queens as he brought himself alongside his half sister.
"Can you feel it?" he asked her suddenly, his voice giddy with excitement.
She sighed at him. "Feel what?"
"Oh, come now. Don't tell me you can't feel it!" he insisted, assuming profound disappointment with Draccaria. "Impending chaos! It's coming in a storm the likes of which makes me want to make the biggest tub of popcorn the world has ever seen!" He threw his right lion arm over her shoulders and hauled her into a gleeful hug, spreading his eagle arm out at Twilight Sparkle. "And she's going to be a big, big, big player in everything!"
"She's practically a vegetable until Father decides to do something to her," snapped Draccaria, throwing off Discord's arm with disgust. "What could you possibly expect Twilight to do?"
"You don't know her mind," he answered, assuming a wounded expression. "We don't hug enough, you know that?"
"Oh, she's got this side of her I'm sure you'll find most amusing."
She gave him a flinty look. "What are you getting at, Disco?" Draccaria used the nickname he hated.
"I've already said more than I should," he harrumphed, crossing his arms over his slender chest. Jutting his lower jaw forward, he returned her stare with literally a puppy dog face. "Let's just say daddy done finally jabbed the hornet's nest with the stick one time too many!"
"There's nothing left for our father to fear," insisted Draccaria half-heartedly, sensing Discord knew something she didn't. Her voice trailed away as she speculated over his words while giving him another hard stare. "What are you hiding, Discord?" she demanded.
He shivered at her voice. "Oh, you sound like Tia!" Swinging his head around, he grinned at the Topaz Queens. "You two. Get cleaned up. You look like you had your flanks handed to you by a raging mother."
They stared blankly at him.
"Oh, wait. You did!" he hooted with laughter. "So tell me, how's her left hook?" Discord suddenly was dressed in a trenchcoat and wearing a battered fedora with a card neatly set in the side of the dark hat band with the bold capital letters spelling the word 'PRESS'. In one paw he held a notebook, in the claw, a pencil. "What round did you go down? How did the judges score it? Was it a TKO or a full on knockout? Were the ring girls pretty? What got you? The Rope-the-Dopes? Did Chrysalis float like a butterfly and sting like a bee?" He scribbled frantically on his notepad, his tongue dangling out from the corner of his mouth in concentration as he nodded at the lack of answers as if he was getting his answers, intense in getting a great scoop.
They gaped at him, completely unnerved by his antics.
Draccaria rolled her eyes and facehoofed. "Father interfered before anything permanent could happen," she told him, her hooves carrying her over to interpose herself squarely between Discord and the Queens. With a flare of her magic, she tore her half-brother's notes from his grasp as well as the pencil, sending them flying across the room.
"Hey! That was front page news!" he protested, tilting his hat forward with a harrumph. An imploring claw followed the trajectory of his precious notes before falling lifelessly to his side. "Well, I guess it's back to the pink cloud business for me."
"Can't you be serious for one moment?" Draccaria demanded of him.
"No."
She flared. "You're impossible!"
"And you're easy!" he shot back with a triumphant grin.
Behind them, Twilight Sparkle played with her son Star Journey in what appeared to be a game of charades.
Draccaria forced herself to calm down, remembering just now how infuriating Discord could be. "I can't believe you managed to hold the world in your grasp for twenty years," she muttered, turning away from him and flinging a dismissive hoof at him.
"Life is to be savored, my dear sister," he shrugged philosophically, his voice full of wisdom and ending with a wheezing sort of chortle. To the Topaz Queens, he levelled a claw at them, becoming quite serious as he drew himself up to his considerable height. Towering over them, he declared, "You two have a task of watching over two children. Come now, girls. Surely you can manage a pair of children as easily as you manage your considerable kingdom! Did Prophet not bestow upon you the doom that will decide your life or death? Was not your encounter with the Emerald Queen not enough proof the path before you is narrow indeed?"
Tappis and Tappaz nodded meekly, violently flinching before his presence.
Draccaria was unimpressed, glaring at him. Just then, Myzanum returned, along with a small army of servants bringing all sorts of things the still injured queens required. As instructed, he carried a covered tray with the sickly green aura of the Emerald changelings as other changelings swarmed over Tappis and Tappaz, clicking and buzzing with fretful worry over the battered condition of their twin monarchs. Draccaria slid a hoofstep or two away, allowing the castle staff to pamper and care for their monarchs.
"Don't," she told Discord, pointing a hoof at him. "Don't even think of it."
"What?" he asked innocently.
"Whatever it is you're planning on doing."
He sighed. "Fine. I won't do what I have no idea what I was planning on doing until you just now brought it up. I'll go throw a few back with Prophet and remind him how much of an ass he is."
"You do that, Disco," she sighed, dismissing him, "and stay out of the way. Father is looking for an excuse to kill you."
"Now you know why I don't hang around you guys. Everything tends to get corpsey around him," Discord sniffed, buffing his claws against his chest. "I'm not going to help him. I'm not going to help Celestia in this. I'm just a partial observer."
"Somehow I have a hard time believing you," she said, shifting her weight on her hooves. "You always want to get involved in one way or another."
"True," he admitted, tugging on his thin white beard. "But I prefer the Butterfly Effect of Chaos Theory."
Draccaria blinked. "Chaos Theory? What's that?"
"Oh, the idea where a butterfly can flap its wings in Ponyville, creating a sandstorm in Kahsoon. Little, subtle things nowadays. Minimum effort for maximum reward. Anything can be used to create chaos. I've already set my little ball in motion. I've just been sitting back and watching everything unfold." Discord grinned suddenly at his half-sister. "I'm going now. Do watch the girls and try to keep them in line."
He paused, almost ready to snap his fingers as something seemed to cross his mind. Tapping his chin speculatively, his gaze fell upon Twilight Sparkle once again, his eyes rolling upwards towards the ceiling as his lips moved, head bounced as if he mouthed out some calculations in silence. He seemed to disagree with himself at one point and even degenerated to fending off a knife attack from himself upon himself until cooler split personalities prevailed and there was suddenly a small cake served. Draccaria was politely offered a slice. She declined, once again facehoofing.
"One more thing," he mentioned with a mouthful of cake. "Keep an eye on Magic girl. She'll give you nightmares if you don't watch her."
Having said that, Discord grinned toothily, winked and gave a snap of his fingers. With a brilliant white flash, he disappeared, leaving Draccaria to wonder just what he meant. Brushing his thoughts off as the ramblings of a fool, she considered Twilight for a moment before remembering the haunting memory of a protector's last moments just after the queens had teleported. The cry issuing from her brothers and even from her own mouth rose with the writhing and mindless creature, the broken mass hurled into the ice, twitching as his life's blood melted the ice pack.
A mother's wail for an unknown child had carried itself away into the night.
End of Book Two
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nice chapter cant wait for the next book
3810692 Thank you. It was hard to do, as I had grown attached to the old guy.
3811940
But Discord's little speech about the Chaos Theory has me standing on my toes, waiting for the next book. You have created something undeniably awesome, and I look forward to the epic conclusion!
Me too, which was why I'm still kinda mad at you for killing him.
You have a fan!
DISCORD! I am disappointed in you...Where are your cultists? I mean, your Daemon Lord of Chaos. You should have cultists everywhere ready to spill blood in your name.
{Also, Tzeentch offers much better worker compensation then your father...and that's saying something.}
*cough*lying*cough**cough*Dislestia is bestia*cough*
{Being a filthy casual? Really Discord? I thought you were a hardcore gamer.}
Looking forward to the next book, liking where this is going.
Start on the third book!
3969233 First impression can be on appearances. Personally, I've spent time in hospitals and I can confirm they use cheap furniture. They spend their money on their medicine and machines, not creature comforts for visitors.
(Besides, I happen to own a very cheap and very comfortable recliner!)
Discord, you magnificent bastard, you'll be there to laugh in Flamespyre's face when his plans crumble.