Accursed Oaths
Blueblood felt a small bit of relief as the first torch flickered into view. Luna’s glowing mane was much dimmer and cooler by comparison, and left him feeling chilled in the subterranean atmosphere. The torch sat beside a crudely-chiseled entryway, which stood stark against the natural smoothness of the cavern walls. The light disappeared beyond the doorway, which opened up into a sizable room.
Blueblood stepped into this room and looked around with searching eyes. It was rounded, with a smooth floor and a vaulted ceiling that the light never quite touched. A number of dark tunnels were arrayed along the walls. Symbols were carved into the stone lintels, and torches lay to either side of each entrance.
The floor held the imprint of an eight-sided compass rose, with four large points and four smaller points. Blueblood recognized it as being coincidentally similar to his cutie mark. Maybe more than coincidentally. A cloaked figure sat at the center, the folds of its cape hiding any indication of species or gender.
“It’s ’bout time you got here!” the voice of the cloaked figure bellowed. “Oi’m keen on gettin’ this show on the road!”
Whatever it was, Blueblood mused, it was a grumpy something.
The Grumpy Something stood. “Wot’re you gawkin’ at, boy? Get your half-baked cutie mark closer so’s oi can get a closer look at you.”
“Boy?” Blueblood sneered. “I’ll have you know that I am a full-grown stallion of very good bree—”
“Oi’m four-hundred years old!” the Grumpy Something said. “Oi can call you ‘boy’ as long as oi darn well please!”
The Grumpy Something shifted beneath the folds of the cloak. “And roight now, oi sees a boy with a half-baked cutie mark, two shiny wings that haven’t seen enough use, and a sparkly horn that sees too much use!”
Blueblood pursed his lips and turned to Luna. “Oh, he’s a right treat to be around, I can tell.”
“Must run in the family,” Luna said with a smirk.
Blueblood brought a hoof up to his eyes, pointed at her, and then turned back to the Grumpy Something. He walked up to the concealed apparition and stood tall. “Bluebones Blueblood, I presume.”
The Grumpy Something’s hood moved, which Blueblood interpreted as a nod. “Aye. Caretaker and warden of this prison. Have been for longer than oi care to remember.”
Blueblood lowered his head to Bluebones’ level. The warden shrunk away, deepening the shadows around his hood. “Until now,” the prince said.
There was a beat of hesitation. “Aye,” Bluebones said. His voice grew a bit gravellier as he continued. “Until now. Now that you’ve come to replace me.”
Blueblood grimaced. “The pretty boy who uses his horn too often.”
“Oi can see the moisture behind your ears from here, boy.” Bluebones turned towards one of the tunnels lining the room. “This is dangerous work. Nightmares are not to be trifled with.”
“I suppose not.” Blueblood glanced back at Luna. “I’ve seen a little of what they’re capable of.”
“That Night Terror?” The hood tilted. “Yeah, the spider-ponies were a nice touch.”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow. “You saw the dream?”
“Princess Luna told me about it.” Bluebones plodded towards a doorway. “Cam on, might as well give you the grand tour.”
Blueblood followed close behind, with Luna picking up the rear. They walked slowly into the darkness, until their way was solely lit by Luna’s starlit follicles.
“Keep your wits about you, boy,” Bluebones said. “These Nightmares are tricky even when behind bars.”
“They live for manipulation,” Luna muttered. She set her teeth on edge. “They’ll catch you at your weakest.”
Blueblood rolled his eyes as a small, barred enclosure came into view. “Please, I’ve seen what these Nightmares do. I highly doubt that they can scare—”
Something dark, hairy, and slobbery flattened its ugly face against the black, metal bars. A sickly growl, like a strangled cat, set Blueblood’s mane on its ends. He shrieked and leapt backwards, not stopping until his rump bumped the opposite wall.
The creature behind the bars bared its buck teeth. Its ears were like those of a bunny, except for their severely mangled appearance. The rest of the creature had the look of a large, fresh, black hairball. Its red eyes glared holes in Blueblood’s chest.
“These’re the first of the lot,” Bluebones said, his rough voice hiding a chuckle. “Bêtes Noire, the Black Beasts. These’re the monsters hiding under foals’ beds, or the things that go ‘bump’ in the night.” He turned to Blueblood, the shadows under his hood deepening. “Did you ever sleep with a nightlight, boy?”
Blueblood folded his outstretched wings with a modicum of pride. “No. Of course not.”
Bluebones continued to walk down the path. “Then you best be gettin’ used to it. You use one now.”
Blueblood gave the Bête Noire a parting raspberry and sashayed on his way. The creature watched him go before it retreated into the darkness of its cell. The bars shimmered a bit, but then returned to their customary dull sheen.
They passed many more cells, filled with multitudes of Bêtes Noire. Blueblood felt a chill run down his spine at every new encounter, though he told himself it was merely adrenaline. The tunnel continued in a straight path until it bisected, heading down both the left and the right.
“The tunnel splits?” Blueblood asked. “Or is this an outer loop that connects the hallways?”
“Both, I suppose,” Luna said. “We’re beneath the edge of the Sleeping Mountain, now. It’s better to have it this way than to need to run to the center of the mountain each time you wish to switch hallways.”
“I can see that.” Blueblood turned from Luna to Bluebones. “What’s next? What other abominations of nature am I to meet?”
“Oi trust you already know a thing or two about Night Terrors?” Bluebones tilted his hood towards the left hallway. “Drifty specters, the lot of them.”
Blueblood looked at Luna out of the corner of his eye. “I seem to recall something about them not possessing their victims?”
“Most Nightmares don’t,” Luna said. “It takes a special brand of scum, I’ve found.”
“Well, they’re down that corridor,” Bluebones interrupted. “We’ll head on to the Phantasms next.”
The only sound that accompanied them was the clip-clop of their own hooves. Blueblood was given a bit of time to think. He’s often discovered it to be a dangerous pastime, if left unchecked.
“So, Bluebones… may I call you ‘Grandfather?’”
Bluebones slowed for a moment. “Oi suppose that’s what oi am. Knock yourself out.”
Blueblood pursed his lips. “Grandfather… May I ask you about the curse?”
This time, Bluebones stopped dead in his tracks. He spun to Luna, his cape swirling around him in an amorphous blob of fabric. “You didn’t even tell him!?”
Luna jumped back. “I… I thought you would have an easier time of—”
“You brought him into this, and he doesn’t even know wot he’s gettin’ into!?” The hood swished back and forth. “You can’t do that! You can’t do that!”
Blueblood’s lips wobbled uselessly. “Did I miss—?”
“Shut up, boy!” Bluebones—well, he didn’t quite yell it so much as cry out.
Fabric filled Blueblood’s vision as his Great Grandfather tramped towards him. “You don’t understand what’s goin’ on, do you? You think this is a fine little day-job. You think everythin’s gonna be awroight, an’ all your friends are just gonna love spendin’ time with you in the ol’ hoosegow!”
“Well…” Blueblood gave an uneasy grin. “They did say they’d visit.”
“Yeah, those lovely friends of yours.” The hood of the cloak fell back. “Do you think they’d visit this?”
Blueblood only just held back a scream as he stared into two very dark, very blank, very dead eyes. Little more than sunken voids in the midst of a pony’s skull. The unintentionally leering, skeletal face tilted to the side. “Oi’m sure the ladies would get a real kick outta this beaut’.”
The skull’s jaw didn’t move as words poured out of the skeleton. “This is why we’re the wardens, boy. This is why we were chosen. This is why nopony can take our place. ‘Honor and privilege’ me all you want, but we just don’t have noplace to go.”
Blueblood sucked in a hissing breath. “You’re a neverdead.”
Bluebones’ jaw opened. “And so are you. Or you will be, once I’m good and gone.”
“B-but how?” Blueblood waved a hoof at his great grandfather’s body. “How are you not dead—er—how can you die? It’s just…”
“Bones don’t last forever, boy.” The cloak fell away from Bluebones entirely. As expected, it revealed the entirety of a pony’s skeletal structure. A crooked spine, knobby knees, and worn texture were all in evidence. “Oi’m old. Oi can’t do this anymore.”
Blueblood’s eyes turned to the skeleton’s horn, which was the only pristine bone to be seen. “I… I am an alicorn. This body will last me a good long—”
“Not if he has anything to say about it,” Bluebones coughed. He lifted a bony leg to point at Luna. “And you! Oi’ve had just about enough of you an’ your sister’s secret-keeping garbage!”
Luna reared up. “Now see here—!”
“You see here!” Bluebones growled. “You wouldn’t even know about Scorpan if oi hadn’t told you about him! Don’t fall into the same sorry trap your sister always tumbles into headfirst!”
“Don’t you dare talk about Celestia that way!” Luna scuffed a hoof on the ground. “We’d both be nothing without her!”
“Enough, you two!” Blueblood shouted. He spread his wings to obscure the arguing ponies’ vision. He lowered his eyebrows and glared at Bluebones. “Perhaps you could teach me to run this sorry trash heap, and just let me worry about how long it takes for me to fall into a deep depression?”
Bluebones was motionless for a brief instant. His horn glowed, setting his cloak about his shoulders, and his hood over his head. “Cam on, then. To the center.”
Blueblood held back a few steps. He tilted his head over his shoulder and whispered to Luna. “I know you didn’t mean it like that.”
Luna’s mouth dropped open. She recovered quickly, slapping it shut with a click. “I am still sorry. Sorry that it’s come to this.”
Blueblood shrugged. “I doubt it could be helped, considering the circumstances.”
“You’d be surprised how well I can hear without ears,” Bluebones said. He entered the great room at the center of the mountain and strode up to the compass rose. “And no, it couldn’t be helped.”
The sound of somepony clearing their throat emanated from Bluebones.
“Neither life nor death
Shall victory bring
Neither love nor friendship
Shall hold relief
A prisoner here
As long as time
Dead to the world”
Blueblood blinked. “It doesn’t rhyme.”
“It’s a curse, boy!” Bluebones said. “An anathema to harmony itself! Held accountable only to the being who casted it.”
He stomped his hoof as his horn glowed beneath his hood. The compass rose shone in response. “You know why Tartarus exists?”
“The—” Blueblood shook his head. “The Nightmares, isn’t it?”
The compass rose lifted into the air, held aloft by gold pillars of magic. Beneath it lay a tunnel going down, down, down. Stairs lay untouched by hooves for centuries.
“It was a good six hundred years between Nightmare Moon’s rebellion and the creation of Tartarus.” Bluebones pointed down the hole. “You can ask him.”
Blueblood stood at the precipice for a bit longer than was necessary. “What’s in there?” he asked Luna.
“I would like to say, ‘only what you take with you,’ but…” Luna shrugged. “Nothing good.”
The prince faded into the darkness. Luna sat, her wings wavering on the edge of flight. “I don't think I like that Scorpan is being held here.”
“Wiffout him, this whole Tartarus situation wouldn’t be possible,” Bluebones said with a shrug. “The imprisoned Nightmares keep him shackled, which keeps the Nightmares imprisoned, which keeps him shackled.” A bony hoof was waved in the air. “It’s all very ‘Perpetual Motion Machine,’ if oi’m not mistaken.”
Luna frowned. “Every machine that advertizes such has ground to a halt sooner or later.”
The hood darkened. “Those machines never used an alicorn as a power source.”
As much as a pony is able to tip-toe, Blueblood tip-toed down the staircase. As it spiraled down, he noticed a distinct raise of temperature. Though the rock was cool at the top of the stairs, it became increasingly hot to the touch the further down he walked. It was as if he was walking right into…
Tartarus, funnily enough. Maybe Hades or Sheol, if he was feeling particularly poetic.
He didn’t care to think of the more common name for such an environment.
He didn’t find a need to light his horn with magic, since the staircase was lit from below. He could see the floor of the lower level, though not the light source. The glow shimmered and danced, as if viewed through an aquarium. An aquarium that held a very powerful fish.
“Weeelll…”
Blueblood felt the voice before he heard it. Far off thunder, mountains crumbling, a dragon choking on gemstones…
“Well, isn’t this a treat?”
A pony sat within chains. Chains upon chains upon enchanted chains. Shackles gripped every inch of available surface area, save for the pony’s face and wings.
They were odd wings. Bat-like, yet most unlike a bat. Bat wings were natural. Bat wings were supposed to be on a bat; it’s what made them a bat rather than a mouse with vision problems.
These wings looked like they had been fashioned from leftover skin and bones. Like they had been pulled together at the last minute for some morbid foal’s Nightmare night costume. They shivered at the pony’s sides, as if daring Blueblood to stare at them any longer.
The pony’s face might have been handsome if he had bothered to trim his beard. A strong chin jutted out from a smiling face. Two enlarged canine teeth ground into the others as they jostled for position. His horn was almost like a changeling’s; craggy and uneven.
His eyes were wrong. Off.
“I haven’t had a visitor for so long,” the pony said. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten.”
“You seem the memorable sort,” Blueblood said slowly. “Who are you?”
The pony drew himself up, and the glow intensified. Blueblood realized that the shine came from the chains themselves. Every movement the pony made strengthened the rainbow of light.
“I am Scorpan, Crowned Prince of Equestria,” the pony said.
“What a coincidence,” Blueblood said with a grin. “I am Blueblood, Twice-Crowned Prince of Equestria.”
Scorpan’s wrong eyes flickered. “‘Blueblood?’ Really?” His smile widened. “I sense a kinship between us, Blueblood.”
Blueblood resisted the urge to take a step back. “Kinship. What for?”
“Aside from the fact that we are both princes”—Scorpan looked down at his chains—“we’ve always been a bit connected. There’s your great-grandfather’s and my clever little rivalry, after all.”
Scorpan’s smile diminished. “But you must tell me: How is it that you have come by your ascension?”
Blueblood’s eyebrows came together for mutual comfort. “I invented a new use for the Come-to-Life spell. That seemed sufficient.”
At that, Scorpan was no longer smiling. His eyes twinkled in an unnerving, confusing way. “Sufficient? Sufficient!?”
Blueblood spread his wings as he pedaled backwards, almost to the stairway. “Nothing”—Scorpan said—“short of the Elements of Harmony is sufficient to ascend!”
“I can only tell you what happened.” Blueblood glanced back at the pony’s wings, a glimmer of understanding taking hold. “I can’t speak for what you went through, or the mistake you made.”
“‘Mistake’?” Scorpan echoed. “No, not a mistake. Through the Elements, I am ascended!”
“It wasn’t a proper ascension,” Blueblood said. “You, as a pony and in so many other ways, are wrong.”
“Perhaps, but who is in control here?” Scorpan smiled, though his eyes did not. “Does it matter if I’m wrong, if I can make it right?”
“I don’t see much power in here.” Blueblood circled around Scorpan, if only to get away from his glare. “All I see is a bunch of enchanted chains that—oh, how nice—are comprised of magic sinks. You’re stuck, and all your power is worthless.”
Blueblood tilted his head up. “Unless we’re using your power for something. Then it’s quite the opposite of useless.”
“I have many uses,” Scorpan chuckled. “A battery is the least of what I am ‘capable’ of.”
“Clearly, if you’ve merited your own little cubby-hole within Tartarus.” Blueblood drew a touch closer. “Are you capable of curses?”
This time, Scorpan’s eyes smiled, and his mouth did not. “Yes. Of course.” He looked upward, as if pondering. “I was always fond of Starswirl’s great ‘mystery spell.’ It’s what interested me in curses in the first place.”
“I beg your—”
“‘From one to another, another to one; the mark of one’s destiny singled out, fulfilled.’” Scorpan’s eyes and mouth smiled in synch, for once. “It is most emphatically not mere poetry.”
Blueblood blinked. “I say, that raises a few questions even as it answers many others.”
“As all good answers should.” Scorpan shook his head. “I regret that I did not have enough power to cast it, not even after my ascension.”
Blueblood’s jaw dropped. “And yet she—”
Scorpan raised an eyebrow. “Who? Who cast it?”
“That’s none of your business!” Blueblood stomped a hoof. “Now, what sort of curses are you actually able to perform, despite your apparent lack of aptitude?”
Scorpan glared. “There are sayings about poking wild animals.”
“There are sayings about everything, I’ve noticed.” Blueblood gritted his teeth in the best snarl he was capable of. “Now, what sort of curses do you cast?”
Scorpan’s face flickered briefly with rage, but soon simmered down. Insincerity took hold as his lips parted. “It’s not so much having the power to cast a proper spell, as it is having the power to see consequences through.”
Scorpan sat in a shimmer of chains. “The neverdead spell is simple enough to cast on a mortal pony. The soul is surprisingly resilient to changes in the body. They don’t wish to die, you see. They’ll cling to the very last vestiges of life.”
He licked his lips. “‘Neither life nor death shall victory bring.’ Easy. The trick comes from the next two lines: ‘Neither love nor friendship shall hold relief.’ That requires a little care; a little prodding. There’s no simple ‘forever alone’ spell. You need to work at it.”
He clanked his chains together. “As you can see, I’m a bit tethered at the moment.”
Blueblood’s face grew gray as Scorpan leaned closer. “But,” the prisoner said, “it wasn’t me who loosened that wagon wheel.”
Blueblood’s mouth dipped open.
“That’s power, Blueblood.” Scorpan leaned back. “To speak, and have your whim acted upon. To think, and have that thought become reality. To hate…” He chuckled, and it rumbled through the cavern. “And have your enemies—sometimes literally—crushed.”
Blueblood rushed forward, his shoulder set to impact Scorpan in the chin. He tripped on a chain and tumbled into the prisoner’s grasp. Scorpan wrapped the chain around Blueblood’s neck.
Blueblood’s stomach tumbled as the chain drank deeply of the magic flowing through his body. His wings flapped vigorously and slapped his foe once, twice, thrice. The next instant saw him released, panting heavily some short ways away.
“You—you monster!” Blueblood roared. “You killed my mother!”
“He’s been down there too long,” Luna said. “I don’t think it was a good idea to send him in alone.”
“Oi don’t think it was a good idea not to tell him ’bout the curse,” Bluebones replied. His body rattled as he shook a leg. “This way, he gets that good old fashioned front row seat you wanted for him.”
“And what better way for him to absorb information than from what you’ve told me is ‘A violent psychopath’?”
Bluebones’ mouth opened, but the voice Luna heard was distant. “—killed my mother!”
She tilted her head. “I beg your pardon?”
Bluebones shook his head. “‘Thou rotten beast, restrained for now—’”
“Awroight,” Bluebones growled, “Oi know oi didn’t say that!”
“‘Who battles won and heroes cowed—’”
Luna and Bluebones shared a short, stark look. The princess’ hooves skidded as she tried to get purchase on the smooth, igneous floor. “Blueblood, stop!”
She half-flew, half-tumbled down the stairs.
“‘Who led the Nightmares in their war—’”
Blueblood’s wings stretched regally for the ceiling. His horn glowed blue with majestic power. “‘Be ye restrained forevermore!’”
Scorpan said nothing, content as he was to watch Blueblood recite the oath.
Blueblood was tackled from behind. He and Luna tumbled, until she gained enough purchase to drag him backwards.
He didn’t stop talking. “‘As long as life flows through my bones—’”
“Blueblood, stop it!” Luna tried to get a foreleg around his throat, but he was far too wiggly.
“‘This Sleeping Mountain shall be your home!’”
“It is not time, you foal!” Luna screamed, dangerously close to the Royal Canterlot Voice.
“‘As long as Nightmares in iron lie—’”
“Enough!” Luna bellowed. It was not enough.
“‘Shackles hold back every sigh—’”
Luna glared at Scorpan with all the fury she could muster. The imprisoned pony merely held her gaze.
“‘Chained to make all ponies free—’”
Blueblood shrugged Luna off as her grip slacked.
“‘The prisoners here: You and me.’”
The whole of Tartarus groaned, from base to peak. The glow of Scorpan’s chains flickered, then steadied. Rubble the size of bits tumbled down atop their heads and clattered to the floor.
“Now it’s personal, you plothole,” Blueblood said.
Scorpan smiled, the wrongness of his being oozing out of every pore. “Dear, darling Blueblood. It’s always been personal!”
Blueblood frowned. He looked into Luna’s hard, blue eyes. “What—”
“Get your bums up these stairs!” Bluebones called out. “We’ve got an emergency!”
“Get going,” Luna said. “I’ll catch up.”
Blueblood galloped up the stairs, sending a few urgent glances behind him. Luna strode up to Scorpan and, without the least bit of ceremony, decked him in the side of the head. The alicorn prince tumbled to the ground, where his almost-bat-like wings got tangled up in the chains.
“We don’t know what thy game is, Scorpan.” She knelt down beside him, her mouth inches from his fuzzy ear. “But whatever it is, thou art going to lose. Thou art going to fail. We shall enjoy thy downfall a great deal. It will be quite the catharsis, thou might say.”
He tried to lift his head, but she held it down with a strong hoof. “No, no. Stay down, for once. It will be less painful in the long run.” She stood and made her way for the stairs. “Now to clean up whatever mess thou hast concocted.”
She didn’t notice as several of his shackles unlatched and tumbled to the ground.
Blueblood found himself adrift in a sea of faces. Not pony faces, or griffon, or those belonging to any other recognizable creatures. These were white, with black pits for eyes and odd squares for mouths. They almost appeared to be masks, though running on their own steam.
“That power transfer,” Bluebones was saying, “it left the whole system unlocked for just a moment! The more powerful Nightmares were ready for it, you great, big ninny!”
Bluebones shifted through the crowd of faces until he was right next to Blueblood. “Congratulations, you’re the full-fledged Warden of Tartarus. You first task is dragging all these Phantasms back into their cells.”
Blueblood nodded as a flying mask bumped into his rear. “And how am I supposed to go about that?”
If a skull wasn’t able to look incredulous, Bluebones’ made a decent effort. “Have you tried askin’ them nicely?”
“Attention, Nightmares!”
The sea of faces froze. They turned as one towards the blue alicorn rising into the air, her wings stirring wind and her eyes incandescent. “You have a choice. The door to the outer world is barred by means both physical and magical. The walls are impregnable, the floors go deep, and the roof has stood for many centuries!”
Lightning flashed from the tip of her horn. “You may try to escape, to dig your way out, knowing that We shall be alighting your rumps with fire! Or, you may return to your cells unmarred! Decide!”
Phantasms rushed in droves towards their assigned corridors. One or two of their number required a small amount of convincing, as the scorch marks on their otherwise pale rear ends attested.
Bluebones leaned towards Blueblood’s ear. “Are you takin’ notes, boy?”
“Mrn,” Blueblood mumbled.
Luna landed beside them and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “This is too easy. Far too easy. We’re missing something critical.”
The last of the Nightmares filed into their cells, their continence abashed.
Bluebones tapped his teeth together. “That was blinkin’ foalish of you, boy. You needn’t have done that.”
Blueblood sighed at his hooves. “I had to take him down a peg. I had to show him he wasn’t in control.”
Bluebones’ bony face turned to Blueblood. “All you did was play right into his cards.”
Beneath the floor of Tartarus, Scorpan stood still as a cacophony rose above him. A few minutes passed, after which a series of chains shot through the air on a collision course with his body. They clamped tightly against his fur and skin, their weight dragging him down to earth.
Scorpan grinned. “Test successful.”
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I feel old. Everytime I read 'Scorpan' I think of this gentleman:
img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130110162504/darke/images/c/c5/Scorpan.jpg
4116264
Just imagine that with hooves and you're good to go.
Hmn, so that bit Blueblood recited, that was him finally taking the oath?
4119126
Yeah. He started saying it in the "The Headaches Have Been Tripled" chapter, but Luna stopped him. She didn't have nearly as much success this time.
Bluebones is such a fun character. I can basically hear the voice in my head. I'm sure now that all pieces of the game are moving it'll be a blast!
4120253
Thank you! It's all in knowing which words to misspell.
Oh, it'll be a blast, but there's still one more piece to get moving. In a couple chapters, at least. For now, we've got a boom to bang out with Redheart and Flash Sentry.
Ah, the long awaited grand tour of the premesis...
if left uncheck.
if left unchecked.
I though you would
I thought you would
So that's the curse, eh? And the easy-alicorn-out, which had to be on our minds, is shot down just as quickly. Nuts.
So he got tricked into reciting the oath... prematurely, I suppose? Or was his replacement itself, later or sooner, pre-planned to enable some mass escape?
4172249
Tame and wussy are two different things.
I'm hoping to spread it around a little more. It's too good to keep confined to one story!
It would be darned creepy if we ever got a scene where Blueblood experienced it, yesirree bob.
Maybe you could use one of those "Oh, come on!" emotes i've seen floating around.
One episode was just not enough.
It is a period of civil unrest. Rebel
Nightmares, striking from their hidden
base in the Everfree Forest, have won their first victory
against the harmonious Kingdom of Equestria.
Ah, the difference between devotion and respect...
I think that Tartarus is funded by the same source that funds all the coronations that have been happening lately... Whatever that may be.
(They're both private, but it hasn't quite come up in any of my stories since the first, where Blueblood funded his own coronation.)
It took about half of the story to get there, but we got there!
Thank you for both of those. The chapter probably could have used another hour of proofreading.
A good author walks several steps ahead of the audience, while making sure they can keep up. I might manage to balance both of those, one of these days.
Ha ha.
Hah hah hah.
Ah HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Heh. Spoilers.
I cannot put into words the hatred I feel for Celestia and Luna in this story. This isn’t tagged as a tragedy, so I’m assuming that — somehow — Blueblood will eventually manage to overcome Scorpan’s curse, but seriously, fuck them. First Celestia lowers the requirements for ascension because her pet student is incapable of doing it on her own. Blueblood, against all odds, manages to reach those “lofty” heights and is granted demigod‐hood. They don’t even attempt to find some other method to replace Bluebones (or Scorpan! Just kill him and substitute with the sudden surplus of alicorns who could take rotating shifts as Tartarus’ battery instead), no, she’s more than content to just consign him to either eventual death (assuming the neverdead curse overrides alicorn immortality) or eternal vigilance (without even the pleasures of the flesh and simple companionship to help keep him sane). Honestly, if I were Blueblood, I’d just let Equestria burn.
4848581
That was a joke someone put in the comments of the background stories. Celestia has absolutely no control over who ascends.
Actually, this is a fault with how I put together the story. Celestia has mentioned seeking other opportunities, all of which had failed. Unfortunately, because this is only my second novel, I botched it up by not actually going into detail about that. This is also not Celestia's fault, it is mine and mine alone. I'm sorry for writing a sub par story in that regard.
As seen in this chapter, every time the cycle of prisoners is broken up, the entire system breaks down. It is an awful, amateur system, devised by a brain that didn't think things through very far.
Celestia didn't build the system, either.
As shown by the way everybody's still afraid of dying, alicorns will live until killed. It would be at that point that Blueblood became a Neverdead.
He would have, too, except that there's people he cares about in Equestria.
And for that I'm sorry. My attempt to paint them as sympathetic failed.
Nice inversion there.
4849947
They seem to come across more as meaning well, but overly fond of huge, unwieldy schemes that prevent them from seeing what the real issues are.
That's my impression, at least.
The way they both seem fundamentally incapable of sharing useful (and often vital) information really doesn't help, either.
*edit*
Almost forgot the point of my response...
All that to say, I think you've done a pretty good job of portraying the Royal Sisters. While Luna does come across as cold in this chapter, anything else would be rather surprising and out of character, given that she has yet to really interact with the "new" Blueblood in any meaningful way.
Blagh. Too much typing. Not enough reading. Onward!
5054746
By Celestia's beard!
Oh, oh! Just like real life politicians!
Well, you know, things happen, and then your student gets abducted by monsters from outer space, and then you have a bad mane day... after all that, exposition gets hard to care about.
Thanks. A big part of this story, I think, is about Luna learning to make friends just as much as Blueblood is. She's been pretty cold in the show overall, when she's not being bombastic or matronly. And she's especially cold to those she finds useless.
She also spent a thousand years on the moon, and that place ain't no sauna.
Oh he's good, though I'm surprised he's a pony not a gargoyle like the G1 and 4 Scorpan, but no matter.
It was his plan all along, this guy is Discord level good.
I was afraid of that, I suspect Discord would both admire him and despise him for that.