X: Blight and Chairful
If Celestia had been somewhat anxious when entering Canterlot a week ago, now she was positively horrified. A meeting had indeed been scheduled, with the intent to discuss a matter of dire importance: herself. At first, it had been called in secret. It was to be a private assembly, in which her fate would be decided behind closed doors, between the frantic debate of an elite few.
Canterlot, however, was still a relatively small establishment, yet to achieve full maturity in keeping with its noble bearings. It had long since been declared a “Royal” city, an honor few places were granted. However, regardless of the title, the residents were still the same as they had been those fifteen years ago. Keeping secrets in such a place was no easy feat. The nobles interacted very closely with the townsfolk, simply because they were the townsfolk. To the surprise of no one, the time, location, and subject of the meeting were leaked. Amongst the curious Canterlot aristocrats, word spread as quickly and easily as wildfire in a forest of tinder. It burned through the townsfolk just the same.
It was the talk of the town, and why would it not be? An alicorn, a living, breathing alicorn had been sighted on the streets of Canterlot City! Politicians discussed how it would affect their standing. Shop owners wondered how it would affect business. Some parents were even afraid for their children. More than all this, though, was the simple gossip. Rumor and speculation flew from left to right, each more wild than the last.
“Is it a stallion, or a mare? Or a foal?”
“I heard alicorns don’t have genders!”
“What if the alicorn is an emissary from the Astral Mountains?”
“What if it wants peace?”
“What if it wants war!?”
“I saw it, last night! It had evil, glowing eyes, and teeth like daggers.”
“Is it true that alicorns have two horns? For twice the magical power?”
“Aye, and four wings, as well. And tall as timber, they are.”
“I hear they’re black as pitch...”
“And doubly foul! Mind your step around Canterlot today. Alicorn’s gonna snatch you up otherwise.”
“Vile creatures.”
It was a week after her conversation with Clover that the meeting was to be held. Until that time, Cotton had convinced Celestia to go into town, disguised, to help her sell her candy. Seeing she was still doubtful, Cotton assured Celestia that nopony actually knew what she looked like. The night she had been seen, she was covered in dirt, blood, and shrouded by darkness.
Celestia had eventually accepted, and at first she found it quite enjoyable. Cotton was beloved by all her customers. She knew each one by name, and held a brief but intimate conversation with everypony that came by. Often, it seemed that some ponies came by just to talk. Cotton was always happy to oblige. To everypony she conversed with, Cotton introduced Celestia as her “new assistant”, boldly declaring her to be “the best helper ever.” Celestia shyly but gratefully accepted the misplaced praise. If they knew the truth, they would not be so civil, Celestia knew. Regardless, she was glad to be meeting strangers who did not treat her poorly.
This had continued for a few days. Cotton would sell cotton candy at Cotton’s Candy, and Celestia would aid in any way she could. However, the object of the city’s curiosity was becoming increasingly apparent, and after hearing countless conversations of which she was the subject, Celestia had completely lost the desire to help. Even the most well-meaning of ponies could be caught up in the excitement. Cotton always gently debunked the rumors when brought up around her stand, but it was not enough to stop Celestia’s stomach from churning whenever she thought of the upcoming meeting. She stopped coming to town. Cotton understood, and told her it was okay to be nervous, and that perhaps she just needed some time.
Celestia needed more than that, though. Generations could go by, nations could be founded, continents could rise from the ocean, stars could take shape, shine, and pass away before there was time enough for Celestia to prepare herself for what news she would soon receive.
This was the second message she had received in the past week. It was Friday, the day before the meeting. Cotton had brought it home where Celestia sat waiting, browsing through her surprisingly intellectual collection of books. Cotton had handed her the note, while happily relating how her day had gone, purposefully neglecting to speak about anything alicorn-related.
The note was tied with a purple ribbon, sealed with red wax, and stamped with the royal insignia. Celestia had curiously and cautiously opened it, as if she were disarming a trap rather than opening a letter. She had subsequently been surprised while reading it, to find that it was an exact copy of the one she had received a few days prior. Her surprise had changed to horror as she continued reading. A single line had been added.
To the alicorn known as Celestia
Our kindest greetings,
Thy presence is requested at an assembly of some significance. We, the Nobility of Canterlot, have desire to treat with thee upon important matters involving the circumstances of our most sacred Equestria, and its relationship with thee.
The assembly shall be held on Saturday, the 21st of April, on the 50th year after our unification, in the Royal City of Canterlot.
The place of assembly shall be the upper district, at the Ponies’ Courthouse.
The assembly shall begin at noon.
The assembly shall be public.
Arrangements have been made for thy security and safe arrival. Our Royal Guard shall accompany thee. Master-Adept Clover shall soon speak to thee about these arrangements. Rest assured, thy safety is all but certain.
These arrangements are subject to change, according to the will and pleasure of the Nobility of Canterlot. Should the arrangements change, thou shalt be notified with all haste and expedience.
Our finest regards,
The Nobility of Canterlot
She stared fixedly at the scroll, reading and rereading that one, condemning line.
The assembly shall be public.
“Are you okay, Celestia?” Cotton called, flinging her apron towards a coat rack, and missing.
Celestia’s eyes only widened further. Her breathing was heavy, and in her head, she could hear their voices.
Monster! Monster! Monster!
“Celly?” Cotton questioned, raising a hoof of concern towards Celestia, who was beginning to hyperventilate.
She looked up from the note. Cotton’s mirror, the one that read “You!” at the top, stood in front of her. She saw herself, and for a moment, gazed at her own damning reflection.
Monster!
Celestia scrambled out of her chair and into the bathroom, tightly slamming the door behind her.
**********
The ceremony had just ended, and the nobles were beginning to disperse. In true military fashion, it had been orderly, uneventful, and utterly formal. He had mingled with the crowd for a while, as was expected of him, but they were leaving quickly, preparing to attend to much more interesting matters.
“Congratulations, Commander.”
Apple Crumble raised a hoof and firmly patted Lucky Break on the back. It was both a congratulatory and consoling gesture.
“And to you as well, Lieutenant-Commander,” Lucky responded, turning towards his friend. His tone was very obviously less than happy, but he did not do anything to correct it. Around Crumble, Lucky did not have to act. “Never thought I’d make it this far.”
“Aye,” Crumble nodded. “I don’t think anypony thought so.”
The two were similarly dressed, both wearing formal red commander’s jackets, Lucky’s appearing a bit more ornate, accented with a royal Canterlot purple. Each jacket sported the appropriate medals corresponding with rank.
Lucky uncomfortably adjusted his newest badge.
“The rank of Commander’s not one to be taken lightly,” Crumble said, “as I’m sure yeh know. But don’t yeh ever slack off, ‘cause if yeh do, I’ll be righ’ behind yeh to kick yeh into shape.” Crumble tapped the tip of his hoof to the ground, where his horseshoe rang with a brief metal clink.
Lucky gave the barest hint of a smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Could be worse, I ‘spose,” Crumble said, looking over the thinning crowd. “Any other day, yeh’d be the talk of the town fer weeks. Righ’ now, they’re all too preoccupied with this… this alicorn nonsense.” He shot Lucky a knowing glance, who returned it just the same.
“You’re right,” Lucky said contemplatively. “The appointing of a commander one day, and a meeting about a mythological creature the next?”
Near the ballroom exit where the ceremony had been held, a mare suddenly, loudly gasped, ‘No, really?’ Her friend nodded, and they resumed their conversation, excitedly whispering to one another.
Lucky and Crumble looked towards them, and then back to each other.
“I’m surprised they haven’t burst from overstimulation,” Lucky murmured.
Crumble nodded. There was a moment of grave silence, before they broke into hilarious laughter.
**********
“Aw, Celestia, come on out of there, silly.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“Ple-eeeease?”
“No!”
Cotton frowned, staring at the closed bathroom door. She paced back and forth in deep thought.
“Why not? Can’t we talk?” she appealed.
Celestia’s answer, though muffled through the door, was clear. “No.”
There was no lock on the door. In reality, Cotton could have simply walked in and cornered Celestia inside. Of course, she would not. She wanted Celestia to come out on her own.
“Oh!” Cotton said, pointing her hoof in the air in a moment of brilliance. She raced to one of her cupboards, and, after a moment of searching, retrieved an item.
“I have cotton candy!” she chimed, her sing-song voice a mixture of enticing and pleading.
“I'm not a child, Cotton,” came Celestia’s terse reply.
Though she could not see it, Cotton waved the stick of sugary blue fluff back and forth in front of the door. “Come on. It’s blue flavored. Your favorite, right?”
There was a pause. “Hmph!” Celestia huffed. It did not sound as resolute as she would have hoped.
“I guess I’ll just have to eat it myself,” Cotton lamented, picking a piece off and popping it in her mouth. She relaxed onto her haunches, sitting in front of the door and snacking on the candy. She ate it slowly and luxuriously, piece by piece, smacking her lips together and chewing as loudly as she possibly could.
Eventually, the door slowly creaked back, opening only a small ways. One of Celestia’s eyes cautiously peered through the sliver of space. Cotton froze and looked back, a piece of cotton candy hovering over her open mouth.
“I suppose you'll find out eventually,” she quietly murmured. Cotton said nothing, but smiled, holding the stick of cotton candy toward the door in offering. It swung open a bit more, and Celestia timidly crept around it, and into the open room. She grabbed the candy and took a tentative, almost shameful bite. Her expression shifted from hesitance, to delight, and back to hesitance.
“May I?” Cotton asked, motioning to Celestia’s nearly crumpled letter in hopes of a trade. Celestia warily gave her the letter, and quickly took another bite, wondering if it was possible to drown her sorrows in fluffy sugar.
Cotton, who, to Celestia’s surprise, was a very fast reader, looked over the note, and gasped.
“They changed it!” she cried despairingly. “Oh, how could they?”
“Exactly,” Celestia said, hanging her head. “Now you understand-”
“The first letter said it was scheduled for the evening!” Cotton wailed, crumpling the letter and throwing it behind her. It landed on the hook of a coat rack.
“This is terrible! I had planned on meeting with Coffee! He was going to come over and calibrate the machine, and I was going to introduce him to you! Oh, I just can’t believe it. The nerve of those nobles.” She put a frustrated hoof to her face and disbelievingly shook her head at the ground.
“What…?” Celestia wondered, lowering her stick of candy and eyeing her friend with confusion. “No, Cotton. That’s not what I’m worried about. At all.”
Cotton looked up. “Huh?”
“The letter, read it again. They did not simply change the time of day. They made it public,” Celestia said darkly. “Everypony is going to be there.”
Cotton looked as though she were about to gasp with concern, but stopped. “And?” she said, motioning her hoof in a forward circle, gesturing her to continue.
“And… that’s horrible!” Celestia said. “The first letter said it was to be private, and that I would appear to everypony later, at a separate event!”
Cotton’s expression was frozen, trying to comprehend it. Eventually, she unfroze, and giggled. “Is that all? Oh, you silly filly, that’s no problem at all!”
Celestia could not believe it. Did Cotton really not see her dilemma?
“It is a problem! I'm not ready! Those ponies… the ponies will…” she stammered, her gaze worriedly shifting away, searching for the words. “They hate me!”
“What? No they don’t,” Cotton said, waving a nonchalant, dismissive hoof towards Celestia. “You helped me at my stand, and those ponies didn’t hate you.”
“They didn’t know I was an alicorn!” she exclaimed.
"And once they do, it’ll be just fine. Think about it, Celestia,” Cotton began, rising to her hooves and pacing back and forth, “you showed them your personality. You showed them you. You smiled, and they smiled back!” Cotton grinned as if to prove her point.
“To them, you were just another unicorn. Somepony they liked! So when they learn you are an alicorn, they will know that you aren’t evil, or a monster, or anything silly like that. They’ll know that you,” Cotton stopped in front of Celestia, poking her in the chest, “are you.”
“What about the ponies I haven’t met?” Celestia said, not daring to allow herself to feel relief.
“Oh, I’m sure word will spread,” Cotton said casually. She threw a hoof around Celestia’s shoulder. “Don’t be nervous Celly. I’ll be right next to you, every step of the way.”
**********
The next day, Celestia’s guard arrived, drawing an armored carriage, and guarded by no less than forty soldiers, all dressed gleaming in armor. Gone was the subtlety of the soldiers of the 21st. Replacing them were what Celestia guessed were the Royal Guard.
With their shining armor, their rigid, defensive formation, and the broad Equestrian flag hanging on the side of the carriage, any thoughts of not being noticed had been thrown out the window. Indeed, it seemed they had already attracted attention on their march beyond the walls. Curious stragglers kept their distance, looking to discover what the commotion was all about, hoping to catch a glance of the rumored alicorn. The only thing they saw was the guards and a pair of unicorns, one cloaked, and one engaged in a heated argument with a frustrated captain.
“What do you mean, I can’t come?” Cotton demanded.
“Sorry, Cotton,” he said defensively. “I’ve got orders. I am to take the… the alicorn only.” He nervously glanced at a devastated Celestia, before looking back.
“Please, Cloudhammer?” Cotton pouted, stomping a hoof on the dusty trail. “I thought we were friends.”
“Look, Cotton, we are…” the white pegasus captain shifted around nervously, glancing at his entourage of Royal Guards. They eyed him questioningly. He turned back to Cotton, and sighed.
“Orders are orders!” he exclaimed, leaning forward with wings flaring, a timbre of authority ringing in his voice. “The meeting is public, so if there is room, you may watch the proceedings from the stands. Otherwise, step aside, or I shall have you arrested for the obstruction of royal duties.”
Cotton did not back down. They both leaned in towards each other, until their noses were practically touching. It was a laughable sight. Cotton was still a young mare, but even for her age, she was somewhat small. Yet, despite her height, here she was, looking up to a military stallion who was by far her superior in size and strength, and doing so with a determination Celestia would never have dared. It was not until the captain’s eyes softened that she backed away.
“Please, Cotton,” he whispered uncomfortably, not wanting his soldiers to hear. Cotton slowly and hesitantly withdrew.
“Fine,” she huffed, not breaking their gaze until the last second. “They won’t let me go with you, Celly.” She turned to face Celestia, who she saw was already lost in a state of hysteria.
“What am I going to do?” she cried. “What am I going to do? Oh, they’re going to hate me, I just know it! They’re going to hate me, and call me names, what am I going to do?” Her breath became quick and distressed.
“Celestia!” Cotton said urgently, grasping her with both hooves, gently shaking her. She looked as though she was going to pass out.
“What?” Celestia said, her eyes remaining unfocused.
“Celestia, listen,” Cotton said. The tone of her voice drew Celestia’s attention. “You’ll be fine.”
Cotton’s tone was one of uncharacteristic calm and sobriety, which inspired something similar in Celestia. It did not completely overshadow her anxiety, but it did help.
“I’ll be waiting there for you. If you get nervous, just imagine them wearing socks. It always works for me.” Celestia gave a nervous, gasping laugh. Cotton smiled. It was a start.
“You’ll be fine,” she repeated.
Celestia took a moment to muster her determination. It was not much, but she supposed it would have to do.
“Okay,” she sighed. The two embraced in a quick hug.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Cotton murmured, as they released each other. Celestia only nodded.
“Alright, come on, alicorn,” the captain said loudly, becoming impatient.
“Hey!” Cotton exclaimed, spinning around and directing a furious glare at the pegasus. He shrank ever so slightly from her gaze. “She has a name, Cloudhammer!”
“Oh. Excuse me, miss,” he murmured, readjusting all fours to resume his imposing stature. For fear of Cotton’s temper, he kept his words formal. “I neglected to ask. Let us not be strangers. I am Captain Cloudhammer, of the Royal Guard of Canterlot. What shall we call you?”
Celestia looked to him, eyes filled with halting fear. She tried to summon a measure of confidence. She was immediately aware of the futility of her attempt, but Cotton’s boldness urged her on, like an unstoppable force pushing her against a nearly immovable object. If for no other reason, and with no other option, she would try to be brave for her.
“Well?”
She gulped, and spoke.
**********
“Celestia.”
“And, for the records of the court, please speak thy surname.”
She felt her mouth becoming dry and stale. “There is none,” she meekly mumbled.
There was a thick silence. Save for the loud scratching of the court scribe’s quill, and the reverent murmurs in the stands above, the room was gravely, anxiously quiet. The ponies above and around were waiting; for what, they did not know. The very nature of the meeting had yet to be revealed. Was it a diplomatic? Was it even friendly? Could they expect a proposal of peace from an unlikely ally? Or a threat of hostility from a probable enemy? Or, perhaps it was a trial, and the council would just as readily issue a sentence of death for this monster, a prisoner of war. Anything was possible, and if that white-coated, pink-maned, timid little mare was what they thought she was, it was all equally likely.
“C-e-l-e-s-t-i-a,” the scribe enunciated, speaking each letter individually. “Is this correct?”
Celestia gave an almost imperceptible nod, fixedly staring at a knot of pattern on the marble floor.
“And, for the records of the court,” the scribe slowly started, only half sure that she had actually affirmed his spelling, “please speak the date of thy birth.”
For a long time, Celestia was unsure of how to respond. She gazed at the twisting knot, squinting and searching for answers, as if the secrets of her life were held in its patterns. Was she, technically, only a week and a half old? If she told them that, Celestia knew they would think she was making a mockery of them. She looked up to the scribe, and just as quickly averted her eyes.
“I know it not,” she murmured, her gaze dropping even lower than before. The onlookers whispered to one another, while the scribe calmly resumed his writing.
For the citizens of Canterlot, a courtroom proceeding, especially one of this magnitude, was a welcome break in the mundane goings-on of everyday life. Celestia raised her head to cast another nervous, trembling glance around the courtroom. It was big, bigger than she expected it to be. There were two levels. The ground level, where she was, was where the action took place. On an open floor, there were over a dozen tables placed in a square formation, spaced out just far enough for privacy, and just close enough for conversation and debate. The chairs were all placed in such a way that everypony on the floor was facing inwards, towards one another. At the head of the square was a larger stand with a dozen seats, where sat the scribe, the governor of Canterlot, and the Royal Council.
The governor, a grey-coated earth pony with a bouncy beige mane, held herself with diplomatic poise, no doubt the result of years of experience. She was, Celestia had been told, akin to a judge, keeping order in the discussion and playing a large role in the ultimate decision. The Royal Council would vote on a course of action, while the scribe, a gangly white, bespectacled unicorn, would make a complete, written copy of the proceedings for later review.
On the tables placed around the room sat the nobles and their entourages, each with a different title and area of interest. There were representatives of all kinds. A young unicorn princess coolly leaned back in her chair, aloofly examining her company. An earth pony chancellor, wrinkled and ancient, patiently waited for the meeting to proceed. A military pegasus, dressed in traditional, pre-unification armor, sat with a stiff back, alert and ready. The Commander-in-Chief, an old but stout earth pony who acted as leader of Equestria’s combined armies, sat stoically at his table. Across the room from each other, Lucky Break was seated to Celestia’s left, and Clover the Clever to her right. One spoke for the elite of Equestria’s army, and the other, for the Royal Magi. They were positioned directly across from each other, and seemed to stare each other down. They showed no clear animosity, but the friction between them was evident nonetheless.
Besides that, there were other nobles, leaders and politicians and captains of industry, each of them itching to contribute to the upcoming discussion. All of the representatives had one or two ponies sitting next to them, fellow agents of their organization. For Lucky, it was his newly promoted Lieutenant-Commander. Clover sat next to two other unicorns, who were no doubt high ranking mages.
Celestia had nopony.
“And, for the records of the court, please state thy place of birth.”
Celestia’s gaze dropped even lower, until her chin was practically against her neck.
“I know it not,” she whispered. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to go unheard. The ponies around her again murmured conspiratorially amongst themselves.
On the first floor, elevated slightly above the diplomats and their tables, was a stand of benches. It completely encompassed the courthouse, and was packed to the absolute brim with curious townsfolk. It was similar on the second floor, where a balcony seated ponies in a full, three hundred and sixty degree radius. It was extremely crowded, and all of them sat haunch to haunch. The courthouse had opened that morning, and, starting the very second the doors had parted, ponies had been pouring in, eager to get a seat. It became so crowded and overflowing that the guards had to boot some very disappointed ponies out, so as to avoid injury from being accidentally pushed off of the balcony.
None of the spectators had any personal space, and none of them cared. It very much reminded Celestia of a griffon’s coliseum, and she was the unfortunate gladiator. Any second now, a manticore would spring forth from the gates, and she alone would have to fight it. The onlookers did not care for the outcome; they only wanted a show. Celestia thought she could understand their interest, but even still, it made her feel less like a pony, and more like… entertainment.
The scribe’s quill stopped as he finished writing his note. He shuffled a few pieces of parchment on his desk, before clearing his voice. The murmuring crowd immediately silenced.
“Governor Bottom Line,” he announced, “The last of the marks have been made, and all those in attendance have been accounted for.”
For speaking to a pony that was right beside him, the scribe spoke much louder than was necessary. Celestia knew he was addressing not just the governor, but the crowd as well. For them, it brought about a still excitement. For Celestia, it brought on a shock of fear, as if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on her head. It was starting. The meeting was actually starting. Her body shook, and her teeth chattered. She whispered Cotton’s words to herself. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine. Imagine them in their socks. You’ll be fine.” It was not working.
The governor gave a small nod, and the scribe continued.
“Allow me to introduce the representatives,” he began, bringing his list up and pushing a pair of glasses further up onto his nose. “Princess Obsidian, of the United Council. Chancellor Cookie, of the United Council. Commander Cyclone, of the United Council.”
He paused after each one, allowing the pony to stand and be acknowledged as their name was called. “Commander-in-Chief Hatchet, of the Equestrian Army. Daybringer Flashbang, of the Order of the Sun. Nightbringer Wisp, of the Order of the Moon. Commander Break, of the 21st Mixed Unit Division. Master-Adept Clover, standing in place of the regretfully absent Arch-Mage Shimmer, of the Royal Magi.”
The list went on as the scribe continued to announce names and titles, none of which were familiar to Celestia. She stopped listening, instead focusing on calming her devastated nerves. She tried to pretend she was somewhere, anywhere but here. She attempted to call to mind pleasant memories. There was not much to draw from. She searched the room once again, looking for Cotton. She was nowhere to be seen. In the crowd of one thousand ponies or more, spotting her was impossible. Perhaps she did not get a seat.
“Miss Celestia.”
She snapped back to reality. Her name had been called. She looked away from the crowd, and toward the representatives. She inhaled, exhaled, and gently folded her hooves on the table in front of her. Everything was okay. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.”
Celestia caught the governor casting her a strange look, as if she was waiting for something. Her name had been called. What did that mean, again? All eyes were on her, and they were all waiting. Was she supposed to say something?
“Um…” Celestia choked. Was it hot in here? She began to feel sweat form on her brow. She looked left and right, wondering what she was supposed to do. After what seemed like an eternity, Clover caught her attention across the room. She frantically motioned upwards with her hoof, and mouthed some word Celestia did not catch. After a moment of pressured contemplation, she realized it. She was supposed to stand.
“Oh!” Celestia barked, louder than she probably should have. She quickly bounced out of her chair, and stood. In doing so, she knocked it over. It fell to the ground, and clattered against the stone floor, echoing in the silent chamber.
“Oh,” Celestia quickly turned, fumbling with her chair. “Er, pardon me, just… one moment…” She picked it up, dropped it, and picked it up again. Her trembling hooves could not get a proper grip on it. Finally, she set it up, and turned again to the governor, bumping into the table as she did so. She steadied the table before it could fall, gave a frantic, polite bow, and returned to her seat.
There was once again silence, but the echoes of her blunders still rang heavily in Celestia’s ears. The deep, crimson shade on her cheeks bore a powerful testimony to her embarrassment. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Her face scrunched into a tight, pained expression, recoiling from an emotional judgment she could practically feel.
Governor Line tactfully continued, pretending not to have noticed the disturbance.
“My thanks, Scribe Blot,” she said, nodding to him. “And my thanks to all who have found time to attend this day. Especially to thee, Celestia, our honored guest.”
Staring intently downwards, Celestia did not see the governor’s graceful motion towards her, and barely heard her greeting.
“Word has no doubt reached the ears of those invited, but to the rest of our company,” the governor said, motioning to the stands above, “the significance of this meeting will no doubt come with immense shock.” There was a trace amount of sarcasm in her otherwise diplomatic tone, barely detectable, but still there.
“We have, in our presence, a very special pony. Words fail me. Celestia, if thou wouldst be so kind,” she said evenly, “aid in the divining of my meaning. I prithee, remove thine cloak.”
Celestia’s eyes snapped open. This was it. The moment she had been dreading. The manticore was emerging from its cage. She stood, and reached with both hooves to the clasp around her neck. They were trembling, and fidgeted furiously with the chain. Her breath stuttered in and out through her nose, and sweat dripped down her brow, as if the room were simultaneously stifling hot and freezing cold.
The clasp came undone. Her black cloak fell from her shoulders. Her wings briefly fluttered at the contact. Celestia braced herself.
There were gasps and exclamations of surprise, fear, and affirmation. The courtroom, both the spectators and the diplomats, broke into an excited buzz of conversation. Celestia could not bear to look up, to affirm what she already knew: all eyes were on her. She had wings, and a horn. This was no trick of the light, no thrice-recycled rumor, no foal’s fairy tale. Before them stood a real, live alicorn.
Celestia heard somepony say it, very quietly, very distantly, but very distinctly.
“Monster.”
“Order!” the governor shouted, loudly stomping her hoof into the table. “I will have order!” The crowd quieted, though not quite to same the level of silent, anxious breathlessness as before. Murmurs and whispers still rippled through the stands.
“Now!” the governor boldly began, regaining control of the courtroom’s attention. “Now, this is a very special occasion for us. An alicorn has not been sighted in over two centuries. The opportunity to reconnect with our vanished brothers and sisters should be a joyous occasion! This happy day gives us a chance to show them just how much Equestria has grown in their absence.”
From one of the tables came a haughty snort. Governor Line shot the noble a quick, disapproving look, and continued.
“It has come to my attention that a few of thee may have doubts about our guest’s intention. To assuage thy fears, she shall speak a few words to us.” The governor motioned to Celestia. “If thou wouldst be so kind?”
Celestia’s gaze remained plastered to the floor, but she slowly rose, and cleared her throat.
“My thanks,” Celestia said in a tiny voice. The governor nodded, and sat.
“B-brothers and sisters,” she began, stooped and cringing, “I come unto thee with open arms. I bring nothing… nothing…” Celestia stopped, trying to recall the words of her recited speech. “I bring nothing… but the sincerest tidings of peace. I understand your hesitation, but I hope… no…” she shook her head. “No, uh… um… I understand your reluctance, but know that my only desire is thy understanding of my goodwill. Alicorns do not have the greatest of reputations, but as their sole representative, I give unto thee a promise, that I shall change that unfortunate fact.”
Becoming more confident in her speech, she looked up. She immediately wished she had not.
“I extend a gracious hoof…” She froze. Everypony was looking at her! And not a single gaze held empathy. Soon, they would call her names, mock her where she stood.
“I extend a gracious hoof…” What came next? It was the last line, and she had forgotten it. She backed up a step, and then another. Her eyes began to tear up. This was terrible!
She was on the verge of bursting into tears and running out the door, when she spotted somepony. A sliver of cyan wriggled through the balcony, and popped into the front row. It was Cotton, a paintbrush in her mouth. She held a slab of wood, which she struck with furious, speedy brushstrokes. She quickly scrutinized her handiwork, before turning the sign around and holding it over the railing. She rapped on it with her hoof, displaying it to Celestia. In large, bold lettering was a brief, shortened sentence, keywords to the next line.
“…I extend a gracious hoof of camaraderie and peace and only hope thou shalt do the same and thanks to thee for thy time,” Celestia blabbered, finishing her sentence and sitting down in the same stroke. She shot a look of unrestrained gratitude to Cotton, who returned it with a wink and a smile, before burying her head in her hooves.
“We thank thee, Miss Celestia,” the governor graciously said. “Keep this in mind, as we proceed-”
“Oy!” came a voice from across the room. A unicorn at one of the tables, a richly dressed businesspony, stood up. “’Ow come she can’t ‘member her age? Or place of birth? That’s right fishy, if you ask me!”
“Know thy place, Lord Pick,” the governor sternly chided. The authority in her voice was enough to make him sit. Empowered by his boldness, another rose.
“Does she mean to make war with us?” a pegasus noble asked.
“Wast thou not listening?” the governor scolded. “She said so herself, she means only to-”
“Will she be a citizen of Equestria?” another asked.
“That is not the point of this meeting-”
“That creature does not deserve the same rights!”
“Remain seated, all of you-!”
“The alicorn speaks naught but lies!”
“ENOUGH!”
The crowd was suddenly silenced, as Governor Line’s voice boomed throughout the courtroom. It was unnaturally loud, so much so that Celestia’s ears rang from the noise. Some papers had been blown off of her desk, a result of the pressure that followed her shout. No doubt the sound could be heard to the ponies waiting outside, and for miles beyond that. The governor stood with her hooves on her table, staring down each and every noble until all was quiet.
She sighed, putting a hoof to her face. “In the interest of time and clarity, allow me to read what exactly the situation is.” She cleared her throat and motioned to the scribe, who handed her a roll of parchment. She unrolled the scroll, and began to read.
“An alicorn is a creature with the body of an earth pony, the horn of a unicorn, and the wings of a pegasus. Before thee stands one such creature, and, within the boundaries of Equestria, she is the only one of her kind. Her name is Celestia. She means no harm, and shall enjoy fair treatment and equal rights as a full citizen of Equestria.
“Through means of magic, Celestia has been summoned to us, to aid us in our hour of need. Magic, unpredictable as it is, will have left her with little knowledge of her own self. Her memory may fail her, but I give my utmost assurance to anypony who reads this, her intention is true. Indeed, it is perhaps the truest any intention can be.
“Once summoned, Celestia is to assist in the war. She is to be given high authority, and to be hastily elevated in a chain of command.
“Most importantly, she is to be taught about herself. If she is to efficiently serve her country, she must learn to understand and control her powers. They are well beyond the grasp of any unicorn’s, both in greatness and in scope. Her value lies in more than simple war-magic.
“Celestia shall be the greatest possible asset to our cause, and will be treated as such.
“Gods bless our sacred Equestria,
“And Harmony guide our steps.”
The governor paused, allowing the message to sink in.
“Signed, Arch-Mage Midnight Shimmer.”
She set the scroll down, and looked at the courtroom, both at the spectators and the diplomats.
“That,” she aggressively began, addressing everypony, “is what this assembly is about. Not about the nature of our guest, or her intention. Thou art to assume what is written here. The purpose of this meeting is to decide the fate of Miss Celestia. If anypony has a problem with that, allow us a favor, and make thyself scarce.”
Bottom Line was silent, as was everypony else. Nopony moved, not even to adjust themselves in their seats, for fear of it being mistaken as a motion of self-dismissal.
“Splendid,” Governor Line said, clopping her hooves together. “Then let us begin in earnest.”
The ponies of the courtroom allowed themselves a collective exhale, as the proceedings officially began.
“As per magical law,” the governor began, slipping back into her neutral, diplomatic tone, “a summoned creature, in particular, a creature summoned for the express purpose of battle, is treated as the property of the summoner. However, there are a few peculiarities to this case.”
“I’ll say…” somepony murmured. The governor ignored it.
“As many of you are aware, summoning is an extremely imprecise magic. In all cases, summoned creatures are merely manifestations of the summoner’s power, given form and pattern, but lacking true intelligence. All cases, save for this.” The governor vaguely motioned to Celestia, not wanting to throw much more attention on the already nervous wreck of a mare.
“Furthermore, Arch-Mage Shimmer is absent. In any other circumstances, we would await her arrival, but it would seem she is unable to attend. She is in seclusion, engaged in an effort that requires her utmost concentration. Therefore, it falls upon us to interpret the Arch-Mage’s instructions, and decide our next course of action involving our special guest.
“Before,” she quickly spoke, cutting off an eager noble who appeared to have something to say, “we begin, I would like to remind the court that the ultimate decision lies in the hooves of the Royal Council. Prior to that, we shall hear thy opinions on the matter. And before,” she repeated, stopping the same noble from speaking, “we hear anypony else, we have a prepared response, ready to be presented. Master-Adept Clover, if you would.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, as ponies guessed on what Clover the Clever would say. Some made bets on the final verdict. Clover rose from her chair, and slowly made her way to the center of the floor. She stopped, and looked around with a careful gaze, waiting for silence. She ended on the elevated chairs, where sat the governor and council members.
“My thanks, Governor Line,” Clover said, her tone diplomatic and conservative. “And my thanks to the Royal Council. I prithee, hear my message.”
She adjusted her cloak, and began to pace. By the way she spoke, it was obvious that she had done this before. At her age, and with her prestigious rank, Celestia would have been surprised if she had not. She did not appear to enjoy it, but she certainly knew how to speak publicly.
“Allow me to bring to thy attention some truths, things I am afraid will be overlooked should I not,” Clover began, addressing the nobility around her. “Celestia is young. She is scared. Her intention is grand, but her power is grander. And I assure you, she does have power. It would be folly to shun her, but to be cautious about her potential is wise.”
She stopped her pacing, and eyed the council, briefly locking eyes with each one.
“These are thy fears, are they not?” she asked rhetorically. She resumed her pacing.
“And so, my request is simple. Let Celestia with me. Properly learned, hers is a power that nopony can match. Properly controlled, hers is the power of Harmony itself. Properly utilized, hers is a power to achieve victory.”
She extended an upturned hoof, a gesture of inquiry. “But I ask of thee, who shall teach her the skills that shall bring us victory? Earth-tribe warriors? Pegasi fighters? They lack the knowledge. The unicorn war-mages? They lack the precision. Could she teach herself? Perhaps, in the same way a unicorn foal teaches itself: unpredictably and, in some cases, dangerously.”
She turned, appealing directly to the council stand. “I am not foalish, and, dear council, neither art thou. I know that there are two options here. Only one will bring us victory. Consider my involvement in the Arch-Mage’s summoning. Consider my experience. Consider my age, if thou must. I am the only teacher with the knowledge to safely and effectively guide Celestia’s gifts. Leave her with me, and thou shalt know the fruits of patience and diligence. Send her to the front, and thou will only live to regret it.
“She is not a soldier, and I beg of thee, do not treat her as such.” Clover glanced at Lucky, who kept a neutral face, if his constantly stiff, lightly-scowling frown could be considered neutral.
“That is all,” Clover quickly finished. “I appreciate thy consideration.” She bowed as low as her old legs would allow, and shuffled back to her seat. The council members nodded in approval, sharing whispered opinions between each other. The spectators did the same.
“Thank you, Master-Adept Clover,” Governor Line spoke, breaking through the anxious buzz. “Before aught else,” she continued, cutting off a noble whose hoof was raised in declaration, “we shall hear another prepared response. Commander Break?”
The governor motioned to Lucky, who nodded in acknowledgement. Apple Crumble gave him a short, encouraging pat on the back as he rose from his seat, and trotted to the center of the floor.
“I shall make this simple and brief,” Lucky began. “I agree with Master-Adept Clover. I do.” He shrugged, his tone light and nonchalant.
Celestia, having hidden behind her hooves almost the entire time, raised her head in interest. Clover eyed him with an expression of caution. Even the council members did not seem to expect his response.
“I agree, Miss Celestia has power. Incredible power. Unpredictable? Maybe. Unrefined? Most certainly. Does she need tutoring? Absolutely.” Compared to Clover’s slow, methodical debate, Lucky was lively, full of energy and commitment. He elevated his voice, speaking not just to the council members or nobles, but to the crowd of townsfolk as well.
“Clover and I, we are not enemies. We both wish for the same thing. How could we not? We wish to end this war, just like everypony in this room. By extension, we want Celestia’s talents to be utilized the most useful way possible.” He paused, and glanced at Clover.
“There is one point, however, on which we differ,” he said, his tone dropping. He turned to the council bench. “My dear council members, let her with me. Under my supervision, she will prosper, and she will learn things far beyond the teachings of an old mare in a dusty classroom.”
He turned away, pacing back and forth, eying and gesturing to individual members of the nobility.
“‘Celestia is to assist in the war’,” he said, quoting the Arch-Mage’s letter of instruction. “Celestia will, therefore, become a soldier. And before any objections are made,” he added, “I am quite aware that there are more ways than one to assist. I would follow that up with this: does anypony suppose that the Arch-Mage put forth the effort to summon an alicorn so that she could become a basket weaver?”
He let his rhetorical question hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
“Sooner or later, Celestia will become a soldier. Even the esteemed Master-Adept will admit as much.” Lucky briefly met Clover’s scowl before turning away.
“So yes, the Master-Adept and I agree, Celestia has incredible power. Power that would be wasted, were it not used. Now is not the time for relaxing study sessions in the castle garden. Everypony must contribute, and Celestia’s contribution shall be made on the battlefield. With her consent, of course,” he added, eyeing Celestia, who shyly looked away from his gaze.
“I need not recite my qualifications to anypony here. My expertise is at least somewhat renown. I have been a member of Equestria’s most elite fighting force long enough to know that the best soldiers are not trained in the barracks. They are forged in the crucible of battle.” Lucky turned to the Commander-in-Chief, partially directing the statement towards him. He received a stoic nod in return.
“Of course,” he continued, “I will be cautious. I have trained many soldiers in my lifetime, and I know how to keep ponies alive on the job.”
He lightly smiled as he saw nods of concession come from around the room.
“Then explain Daylight!”
His smile was instantly gone, as he wheeled around towards the sound of the voice. It had come from a member of the United Council, the pegasus. To his dismay and anger, there were murmurs of agreement coming from the crowd. A brief, intense flash of fury crossed his face, before he smothered it in diplomatic neutrality.
“The passing of Commander Daylight was an unfortunate accident,” he said calmly, speaking directly to the pegasus. “The soldier’s way of life carries unavoidable risks. She knew that, as do I, as does everypony in this room, or so I hope. Risks that, unless taken on by brave ponies, would be the undoing of our nation. As for caution, Celestia will not be a part of the first charge, she will not be leading a battalion, and she will certainly not be fighting the enemy alone.”
He stared the pegasus down for another moment, who tried to remain unimpressed. Lucky turned away, taking a moment to breathe and regain his control.
“So,” he sighed, attempting to regain his previous vigor, “will you leave her with me, or will you leave her with Master-Adept Clover? The same question might be asked: will we win the war, or will we lose it?” He said it with a drop of venom.
“Magic without practicality ought not to be practiced, and this is exactly what the Master-Adept will be teaching Celestia. The idle pursuit of useless knowledge has no place, now more than ever. The war is raging and the danger is close. It is a small thing for Clover to sacrifice a hobby, when my soldiers are on the battlefront, sacrificing their lives.” Lucky spoke with zealous conviction. Celestia could see it in his eyes; he believed every single word he said.
“Nopony grieves the Maiden’s death more than I,” Lucky said, his voice lowering to a mournful tone. “It is saddening, to lose a hero, and a dear companion. In the wake of her death, what inspiration can we draw from? What can we even begin to do?”
His gaze slowly rose to the council seat, and his voice gradually rose in clarity and volume. “I shall tell thee,” he murmured, “We can fight. We can win! And Celestia can help us do that. Who better to inspire the soldiers of Equestria than the most powerful soldier of all?”
He took a courageous step toward the council, seeming to embrace his own declaration. “Allow her with me, and thou shalt have thy hero!”
He fell silent, letting the excited crowd do the talking for him. They chattered animatedly amongst each other, no longer bothering to police their noise. The way the volume was increasing, they seemed to be on the cusp of cheering.
“Order! Order!” the governor shouted, pounding on her stand.
“My thanks for thy time,” Lucky muttered, a half grin on his face. The governor had no chance of hearing him. He left the floor anyways, and quickly trotted back to his seat.
“I WILL HAVE ORDER!” the governor’s voice sounded, once again quieting the room through sheer loudness. “The council has heard its arguments, and shall reconvene in half an hour to relay its decision. Those wishing to leave for a brief recess may do so. Dismissed!”
**********
The recess, for Celestia, was no recess at all. Upon the insistence of whomever had made the arrangements for her security, she was to be under guard at all times. Celestia knew it was for her own safety. She recalled the angry accusation in their voices and honest fear in their eyes. Lucky may have spoken well, but she felt that, to the crowd, he was a more of a lion tamer than a civil representative. In that line of thought, as the royal guards closed in around her, Celestia got the unnerving sense that they wanted to give the impression of imprisonment, rather than protection. It was almost as if the spectators needed some assurance that she would not lash out at them, like some kind of wild animal.
Regardless of her close formation of guards, the moment she set hoof outside, they were swarmed by curious ponies. Nobles, townsfolk, reporters, and even other guards all pressed in to get a closer look at the alicorn, perhaps getting a chance to touch it to see if it was real. After a minute of this, Celestia saw the crowd would not back away any time soon, and frantically elected to go back inside. She waited another twenty-nine minutes in claustrophobic silence at her table.
She saw some of the nobles who had been on the floor try and approach her, but the guards would not let them past. For that, at least, she was grateful. Regardless of their intentions, she had no desire to talk to anypony.
The room began to fill back in, and soon, it was again packed to overflowing, resuming with its familiar dull chatter. The Royal Council was the last to appear, followed by the governor and her scribe. They took a seat, traded some paperwork, and prepared their notes. Eventually, the banging hoof of Governor Line rung throughout the room, calling everypony to silence.
“Order!” she demanded. Anxious to hear the verdict, the crowd immediately obeyed. “Welcome back. The Royal Council has voted upon a decision. However, they will still hear suggestions. If anypony has an opinion to voice, they may do so now, and we will take it into consideration. The floor is open.”
And they did have opinions. All of them. Housing, economy, politics; somehow, they were all affected by Celestia’s appearance, and every issue from every noble was brought to attention. A wide range of emotions stemmed from their questions and suggestions; worry, concern, outright fear, and even a few words of support from the old earth pony chancellor.
Celestia herself experienced all of these, and more. She was unsure of how to feel towards what was presented in the meeting, particularly towards the solutions proposed by Lucky and Clover.
Celestia wanted to help, she really did. With what, she did not know. Anything. Everything. Following the suggestion of Clover, she wanted to discover and experiment, to learn about magic, to master her own self. She wanted desperately to rid herself of the out-of-body sensation she felt whenever she tried to fly, or use magic, or a thousand other things. It was borne of a deep desire to prove to both herself, and to all other ponies, that she was not a monster. Accepting Clover as a teacher seemed like the perfect solution to that.
But then, she remembered. All it took was one stray thought, one errant daydream, and her mind was swept away, taken completely elsewhere. Memories of fire, chaos, and war brought her blood to a boil. Memories of him put a fire in her heart. She did not simply want to help; she wanted to fight. Her own interests could wait; there were things to be done! And what better way to quell the chaos than to travel with the Maiden’s Battalion, the greatest fighting force that ever there was?
Celestia silently groaned. She did not know who to follow, or what to choose.
“Order!” the governor yelled. “A decision has been made!”
Celestia shook her head. Of course, it was not like she had a choice.
“All arguments have been heard and discussed. After much deliberation, the Royal Council has come to a decision.”
As a summoned creature, she was, after all, somepony’s property.
“Though we value all opinions, and they shall all be addressed in their own due time, the decision was made between the two original appeals.”
Lucky Break and Clover immediately locked eyes. Their expressions were perfectly mirrored; on the face of each pony was doubt, worry, and dislike.
“The council has decided…”
Celestia could have sworn she saw sparks fly across the room, as the mage and the soldier engaged each other in a contest of wills, made manifest in a venomous staring contest.
“…in favor of Commander Lucky Break, of the 21st Mixed Unit Division.”
The contest shifted in favor of Lucky, whose features eased into a look of subtle triumph, while Clover simultaneously looked down, disappointed. The crowd began to mumble, and money began to change hooves.
“With,” Governor Line sharply interjected, immediately regaining everypony’s attention, “one provision.”
Lucky’s gaze immediately snapped to the governor, a sudden twinge of fear in his heart. Clover slowly, cautiously, hopefully turned to face the governor as well.
The governor cleared her throat, and unrolled a scroll. She began reading in a projecting, official tone. “Miss Celestia shall accompany the 21st Division, with Commander Break as her host. He is to ensure her education in the art of war, whether her tutor be himself, or another, equally competent battalion member. This is to be among the highest priorities. It is to be treated as a primary objective.”
That was nothing unexpected. Lucky stared intently at the scroll of parchment. One of his ears nervously twitched, anxious to hear the rest.
“Upon attaining a proper degree of excellence, both in leadership and prowess, Miss Celestia is to be given an appropriately elevated rank. This is to be at the discretion of Commander Break, but the title given shall be no lower than the rank of Captain.”
Clover listened closely, patiently waiting for the words she wished them to speak.
“If it is her desire, Master-Adept Clover shall accompany the 21st, to school Celestia in the ways of magic.”
Lucky’s gaze immediately dropped. He grimaced and slapped a hoof to his forehead in dismay and frustration. He made no effort to conceal a disheartened sigh. By contrast, Clover looked positively… peaceful, Celestia thought, with a trace amount of smugness slipping through as she answered in the affirmative when asked by the governor if it was indeed her desire.
“Very well,” Governor Line continued. “Master-Adept Clover shall accompany the 21st, and will aid Celestia in the understanding of magic, and, at her discretion, in other fields applicable to the task.
“The training of Miss Celestia is to proceed with all haste. Therefore, arrangements shall be made, and she shall begin on the morrow.”
The governor’s eyes reached the end of the scroll, and she set it down.
“Such is our decree. We shall reconvene at a later date. Until further action is required, this case is on hold, and this court is dismissed. Meeting adjourned!” She stamped her hoof on the desk in a gesture of dismissal.
Lucky’s face was buried in his hooves. Celestia could have sworn she saw Clover chuckle, just a bit.
**********
“How did she do that?”
Princess Celestia paused.
“How did who do what?” she repeated back to her student.
“You know,” Twilight Sparkle said, gently setting her quill down. “The governor, how did she… how did she do…”
Twilight vaguely gestured in the air with her hooves, trying to think of a proper way to explain. Eventually, she opened her mouth as wide as it would open, and thrust her hooves out.
“Bla-ahhh!” she said, softly simulating a shout while miming a wave of air with her arms. For good measure, she created a magical airburst above her desk. It gently fluttered her notes out of their neat piles into piles that were only slightly messier. She quietly squeaked at the result, and frantically began shuffling them back into perfection.
“The shouting thing,” Twilight finished, still realigning her papers.
Celestia smiled, half in realization, half in amusement. “Oh,” she chuckled, “you mean the Royal Canterlot Voice.”
“The what?” Twilight asked, slowing her organizing and gazing confusedly at her teacher.
“Oh, yes,” Celestia nodded, her tone informative, “the Voice has been around for centuries. It was discovered in Canterlot, crafted by the governor previous to Governor Line. It was originally developed to gain the attention of loud courtrooms, but some adapted it for use in other situations, such as issuing orders over a noisy battlefield, or when speaking to subjects of lesser rank.” Celestia scowled at some bad memory, shaking her head. “Horrible use for it, really.”
Twilight still appeared to be confused, head tilted with a searching frown.
“I believe my sister showed you the technique, at one point,” Celestia said. “When was it… Nightmare Night, I believe?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think Princess Luna ever…” Twilight began, but trailed off. Her eyes widened in realization. “Ohhhh…”
Celestia nodded. “Yes, that.”
“Horrible use for it…” Twilight murmured. “I see what you mean. But wasn’t the governor an earth pony?” Celestia nodded. “Is the Voice non-magical?”
“Oh, no,” Celestia said, “it is quite magical.”
“Then how?” Twilight simply asked.
“Not all pegasi and earth ponies are magically inept, just as not all unicorns are as talented as you are,” Celestia said. Twilight blushed, but listened intently. “Every race has a sort of magic, unique to them, but the Voice was something anypony could do.”
Twilight took a quick note. Celestia immediately knew why; her student was now determined to learn how to shout unnaturally loudly.
Celestia continued. “And you’d be surprised, Twilight Sparkle, at just how much magic even an earth pony can master.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.05 seconds
Total duration
996 users online
352 hits today, 2,314,256 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I can see Twilight's mind at work with that one now.
"SPIKE! I NEED (insert book name)!" AND HURRY or URGENT LETTER TO THE PRINCESS SPIKE!!
>Opens Firefox
>Before doing anything clicks the bookmark for this story
>Almost chokes on taco when realizing it has been updated
I love the chapter! Especially when Cotton lured Celestia out of the bathroom with the cotton candy.
Though I will admit, I thought that it was about to get serious when someone called out Lucky for his commander dying.
You've made me want more now...
890385
pfffffffffft
Good heavens,Celestia save us.
I love this story.
really I wonder why I bother with writing comments on anything I read, I suck at commenting.
But, I really love this story.
Yay! An update! xD
I have to say I think this is one of my favs that I'm reading at the moment.
I knew that the counsel would side with Lucky. I'm disappointed that they did too, however I can understand their logic and I'm glad that they at least saw fit to have Clover come along
Looking forward to reading the next chapter! But be sure to take your time! I'm happy waiting a little while for chapters when you keep the good quality! ^.^
Another great chapter, cotton is really growing on me. Also haha lucky, you have to travel with clover
890385
I lol'd! Oh dear, what has Celestia done...
891076
Remember, chew, then swallow. Then read!
891399
Oh dear. No, kind reader, allow me to correct you. You do not suck at commenting. So far, on my story, nobody, not one single person, has sucked at commenting. Some may have been more insightful than others. Some may have been funnier than others. But by writing something, anything, in that box, and clicking that "add comment" button, you are automatically considered ULTRA-MEGA-AWESOME at commenting, simply because you took the time to leave one.
I love and appreciate every one of my comments! Even if I don't reply to every single one.
(Unless they're trolling. I don't really appreciate that. But my luck has held up so far.)
All I can think of after that last paragraph is, once Twilight learns the voice, she'll probably want to verify that earth ponies and pegasi can do it. Eventually...
Pinkie: YOU KNOW WHAT THIS CALLS FOR?
Twilight:
“Know thy place, Lord Pick”, I honestly read Lord Prick the first time I read that sentence.
I have this sneaky suspicion choosing that name wasn't an accident.
894327
Somewhere along the lines of having "Filthy" as first name, isn't it?
894327
You certainly aren't the first to make that connection.
894457 Yeah that one raised an eyebrow when I heard that name in the show.
890385
...
...
May Celestia have mercy on Spike's eardrums.
894457
Same thoughts here. Had to reread it.
Excellent chapter, I get so excited when I see this update.
Why am I dying for some CelestiaxLucky action?
I just can't help it.
I mean, he pretty much asked all of Canterlot if she could be his property.
901611
CelestiaXLucky!? Son, the only ship we support around here is CottonXCelestia!
(...I'm totally joking. No one, myself included, supports CXC
)
Ending the chapter on a funny note, nice one! I didn't even associate the Governor's loud voice with the Royal Canterlot Voice at first, but then it clicked.
Can't wait for the next chapter :D
903929
It is traditional to use THIS MUCH VOLUME WHEN ENDING A CHAPTER!!
Am I correct assuming that Arch-mage Shimmer is trying to "summon" Luna?
919365
Well, you're not correct that she isn't. I mean, it wouldn't be inaccurate to assume that I couldn't exactly not say that that is or isn't almost partially incorrect. I'm possibly, more or less, not definitely rejecting the idea that in no way, with any amount of uncertainty, that I undeniably do or do not know what she isn't probably doing, if indeed that isn't what she wasn't doing. Probably.
Do I have any idea what that means? No. No I do not.
Thanks for reading! (And commenting!!)
I won't ever confirm theories, except through the story, but I do appreciate them!
Edit: I've decided that this ^ is now my go-to comment for speculation. I am so smart! S-M-R-T!
Well now, we're going to be going into military situations and shenanigans?
Oh, this is going to be good.
Still not liking Lucky all that much, his goals may be right, but his way of doing things is out of place. And the rivalry between himself and Clover is going to no doubt lead to both hilarious laughs and disastrous bouts of rage.
Eh, and here we have fun little Cotton leaving for now as well. Oh well, that just means we'll make way for new friends and experiences. I'm sure there will be some kind souls in that regiment, right? Right? Hopefully, I couldn't stand to see Celestia miserable and more or less alone...
901846 Speak for yourself man, Celestia x Cotton all the way =P
(There can never be enough shipping)
927962
Keep it up.
I love comments like these. I really do.
You got praise, critique, character analysis, and a healthy dose of speculation!
You, sir/ma'am/potato, are an awesome commenter.
(If you wonder why I care, I'm the chief editor guy)
928353
)
'Das coo', man, you can ship whatever you want.
(YES! Someone ships CXC!
Did I just reply to the same person's two comments with one comment?
What heresy is this!?
928759
This isn't heresy, it's straight up sorcery! How'd you do that
And you're welcome, chief editor guy! What does that make Neighkodemus, though? Does he work under you, bring the coffee? I know editing can get tiring at times, man what I wouldn't give for a lacky
(If you read this, Neighkodemus, please don't hurt me
)
Anyway, that wasn't really even much of a comment, honestly. I normally praise just a bit more and ramble to greater lengths, and normally dash my coherency aside every so often for even more speculation. And yes, character analysis is always present (If you ask me, most story should revolve around stong character development anyway). Come on chief editor guy, you know that!
And I am neither man, nor misses, nor potato. I am actually a rare type of radish that grows in dark caves under ground, feeding off of the occasional bit of well written literature that falls my way. It's actually quite dark... and lonely... and I'm running out of flashlight batteries...
...You wouldn't be able to send a care package, would you?
928826
Well I'm like the idea guy, co-author, editor, being awesome guy...
According to Neighkodemus himself, he is a "zombie editor."
Honestly, though, he's probably a better editor than me. But I have a say-so in the plot, so
Well, I liked your comment
Oh, man! Character development! I knew we were missing something! FUUUUUUUU
Well, I can get you some D batteries and a moist towelette.
929019
I see, so you have some sway with story, hmm? Well then, when I see something amiss and everything gets horribly derailed, I guess I know who gets the blame
And a zombie editor? What does that entail? Does he kind of walk around the office and groan a bunch, occasionally throwing his grammar nazi, undead gaze onto the story, and then slowly - yet menacingly - limp away? 894594 Dude, what's a zombie editor? You guys sure have some odd titles for yourselves, that's all I know
And thank you for appreciating the comment anyway
The batteries I could use, those would be nice, but not so much the moist towelette. It's kind of damp down here anyway, seeing as it's a cave and all. Don't really want more excuse for mold to grow, do we?
929019
Bad editor! Bad! Stop stealing my commenting thunder!
Ahem...
928353
Everything he said.
I don't think I'll ever be able to accurately describe just how awesome it is to receive comments like that. It is the best kind of motivation. You rock! Woo hoo!
As far as editing... we are what a wise (Ger)man once called the A-Team of ponyfiction.
Listening to this while you read may or may not improve your experience.
Cheesedork: Editor-in-chief. The idea guy. Keeps track of the outline so I don't have to. Close combat specialist. Spent 10 years punching the ironwood trees of the Jade Palace. Now, he feels nothing.
Neighkodemus: Editor-in-grammar. The technical writer. Makes bad prose good, and good prose great. Decent with a sniper rifle, but his stiff zombie joints really get in the way sometimes.
Elusive Shark: Editor-in-ponypony. The historian. He is constantly reminding me that ponies didn't have mech suits way back when. Drives the getaway car/truck/helicopter/fighter jet. Don't make him turn this vehicle around, mister.
TheUrbanMoose: Author. The author. He authors the story. Sits in the command center, carelessly issuing orders and drinking Sprite. When he's feeling exotic, he'll drink Fanta instead.
929075
I was forced to commit ritual suicide when I repeatedly misspelled "repetition" during my first editing run, but my strong desire for pony fiction and quality writing brought me back from the dead as a zombie editor.
Now, I lurk in the shadows, waiting for my unsuspecting prey. Bad prose, mediocre descriptions, redundant information, inappropriate tone, none are safe. I'll inevitably find them all, hunt them down, feast on them, and spit them out again as higher quality suggestions.
I don't bring anyone coffee, though, and any claims to the contrary will be met with gratuitous violence.
PS: While I'm decent with a sniper rifle, my true forte lies with rocket launchers. When I'm not reading, editing, drawing, playing videogames, or am otherwise occupied, I run around the internet, shooting explosive missiles at people and demanding they give Moose's story more "STARS!".
932641
Ah, yes, inconsistent speech patterns. You'll get that a lot with the first few chapters. They underwent some pretty heavy dialogue revision, some of which made for awkward phrasing. I promise it gets better as the story progresses, not just because its more interesting, but it gets progressively better written as well. When I started this, I was a bit rusty, and the simple act of writing it has polished me up a little. That, and I now have a few good editors that tell me when my metaphors are dumb. Honestly, sometimes I read the first few chapters and just... cringe.
Anyways, thanks for reading. I do hope you enjoy the rest!
CANT STOP READING THIS FIC!!!!!!!!!!! oh srry had the Royal Canterlot Voice key turned on
948750
THANK YOU FOR READING, I'M GLAD YOU ENJOY IT!!!
*ahem*
I mean...
Thanks.
Govenor Bottom Line?
______________________________
Me wonders as to when Luna will appear.
Excellent piece of work there son. I know this has been said before, but would cotton happen to be one of Pinkie's early ancestors?
And if that is true, how exactly do you think her story would develop over time? Just curious. Keep up the great work
Did you choose the name Cloudhammer by chance or is this a stealth reference to my good friend Cloudhammer?
1944770
Huh, I almost forgot about this. It is a stealth reference, believe it or not! It was a long time ago, but I believe I had just finished (or was in the process of reading) this story when I wrote this chapter. I needed a name, and "Cloudhammer" was the first thing that popped into my head. I figure the reference is innocuous enough, but I hope he doesn't mind!
Want to take nap before next class....but can't stop reading....
Oh dear.
Mmm, blue. An excellent vintage of artificial coloring, don't you agree?
I'm glad to hear the voters eventually figured out who was doing the real work.
I like how we get back to the framing narrative relatively often. It anchors the story nicely, I think.
Burro Bandito,U bet!
I can't help but think that Celestia could have refused to accompany the guard without Cotton, but in her state of mind it's no wonder that didn't occur to her.