Interviews
Reddux the Tyrant
Chapter IV
Interviews
Fleur sagged, weariness overcoming her. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bed and sleep. Her heavy-lidded eyes roamed the halls of the castle outside the war room as she waited. The servants had to have been working throughout the night. Gone were the mildew and mold; the dust had been cleared and the images replaced with newer, improved variants.
It was an impressive job. Having once worked as a maid, she could appreciate the effort made, if not the pony who'd given the order. She turned her gaze to the door leading to the war room, eager to listen in on Fancy's debriefing. That wasn't possible, though, not with four guards watching her like hawks.
The first two had arrived sometime in the night. No doubt Sir Deeds claimed he was protecting his 'pretty little niece' and last living relative. Fleur was so desperate to get out of this city, but escaping a second time would not be easy.
A pegasus soldier came trotting through the halls, her expression stern. She went directly to the guards by the door and whispered something to them. They'd been given strict orders not to let anypony interfere with the questioning, but they let her through nonetheless. Fleur stood straight and watched the door, knowing something was about to occur; she knew enough about military insignias to recognize the pegasus as having come from Canterlot.
Minutes passed in silence. Fleur frowned; perhaps the pegasus had only been sent to deliver a message?
At last the door opened. Sir Deeds’ officers stepped out, muttering among themselves. Some appeared agitated, but most seemed worried. Fancy Pants walked out, and she wasted no time approaching him.
"What's happened?"
Fancy's face had gone an extra shade of white. "Celestia has come back from the ruins. She wants to meet me... in private."
She blinked. "Just you? Doesn't she want to see me too?"
He gave her a curious look, his anxiety fading as his confused eyes set on hers. "I... would think so. Perhaps she is to interview each of us separately, just as the officers here are?"
Fleur considered this for several seconds as she rubbed her chin with the back of a hoof. "I suppose. Perhaps this is my uncle's doing?"
Fancy tilted his head with a frown. "I don't follow."
She opened her mouth to reply, only to back away swiftly: her uncle stood just behind Fancy. Her mouth dried up and her eyes widened at the sight of the big stallion's pleasant smile.
"You should get going," Sir Deeds told Fancy, who didn't seem at all surprised by his sudden appearance. "It's never good to keep the princess waiting."
He turned to Fleur and his smile grew just a little. "Fleur, my pretty little niece. I think it's about time you and I had a talk."
Fleur's stomach churned and a thread of panic crept into her mind. She took another step back, distinctly aware of the two guards just behind her. "I... I think I'd rather go with Fancy Pants."
"That's impossible," Sir Deeds replied, not losing his smile. "The princess only requested his presence. She'll get to you eventually, Fleur, you just need to be patient. In the meantime, you have a lot of explaining to do. We're going to your room."
Fleur's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widened. She took a step towards Fancy, stumbling on her wobbling legs. "N-no, I... we can talk later. Maybe over... um..."
Sir Deeds' smile faded, replaced with a stern stare. "No, Fleur. Your room. Now."
A shuddery breath flew from her lungs and she fought down the shout building in her throat. If only she could flee, if only there was some way to stay safe! Her stomach churned and her tail slipped between her legs as she turned to Fancy with imploring eyes. Let him remember his promise, let him be a halfway decent stallion…
Fancy shifted from hoof to hoof and adjusted his uniform. He stared at her, lips working as he struggled to make a decision. “M-my lord, surely Celestia will want to talk to both of us. I really—”
“This is a family matter, Mr. Pants.” Sir Deeds’ voice wasn't harsh, but it was commanding. "Celestia asked for you only, and that is what she will get."
Fancy hesitated as Fleur took a step closer to him. She mouthed please a couple times while her eyes flitted to her uncle and she trembled. She could see that glint in his eye, the harsh desire that had become the product of nightmares. If only somepony else could recognize the intentions in that smile…
“I must protest," Fancy finally said, though his voice lacked conviction. "I am sure the princess would like to handle this with the utmost efficiency, and—”
Sir Deeds turned to the soldiers at the door. “Escort the First Lieutenant to the princess's chambers immediately.”
Fleur watched, her heart pounding as Fancy was left with no choice but to be herded away. He looked back with uncertain, apologetic eyes before disappearing down the hallway. Her body lowered and her chin trembled as she turned back to her uncle, whose smile returned.
He stepped forward, close enough that his hot breath was on her cheek. His terrible eyes bored into her, cowed her, sapped her mental strength.
“Now then, shall we pick up where we left off?”
Though her lips were sealed, in her mind Fleur was screaming.
Fancy's brain thrummed with indecision and conflicting priorities. He'd seen the fear in those violet eyes and knew Fleur was terrified of her uncle, though he couldn't fathom why. He'd wanted to hold back, to press the issue, to honor his promise to Fleur. Yet at the same time, was it really his place to debate with a hero of Equestria? Surely a pony of such reputed caliber as Sir Deeds had only the best intentions... but there was no denying what he'd seen in Fleur's face at that final moment.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, his mind was frantically trying to prepare itself for a meeting with Equestria's very own princess. Her request came so suddenly, he had no time to prepare! He wanted to look and act his best before Celestia, and thanks to her sudden arrival at least one of those options was out of the question. Not that his appearance was improper, not at all... but he was a nervous wreck, regardless.
This was the state he found himself in as he stood before the massive door to Celestia's temporary chambers, his mind struggling to settle itself into a proper display of calm. He wasn't ready when the soldier knocked on the door and announced his arrival. They had to give him an encouraging nudge before he could approach and push his way inside.
The room was large, but not as much as he’d anticipated. There were no windows, but the table at the center of the room and the shelves on the walls suggested this might only be an entryway. To the side was a smaller door, which Fancy assumed led to the actual bedroom. Celestia was nowhere to be seen.
The door closed and Fancy found himself all alone. He glanced about with a small frown, tail flicking the air, but then the other door opened.
Fancy felt his heart hammering in his chest as the princess entered the room. She was tall, her pearly coat immaculate and her form pleasantly slender. A radiance of colors cascaded from her ever-flowing mane and tail as she moved to stand before him. She had incredible magenta eyes, and it took everything he had to tear his gaze from them so he could bow properly.
This wasn’t his first time seeing the princess; as a Canterlot native, he’s spotted her on numerous occasions. But those were always from a distance, safely ensconced within the ambiguous crowds as she passed on parade or spoke from the castle. To be so close, alone and at the center of her attention made his legs wobble.
“Rise, Fancy Pants, and please, relax.”
As if he could! Fancy rose as ordered and sat before her, but he didn’t dare meet those eyes again. He said nothing, deathly afraid of what might come out of his mouth.
Celestia sat before him. A moment of quiet passed. Fancy fought as hard as he could not to fidget. He abruptly remembered all the teasing Lance and Sparks put him… used to put him through and couldn’t resist a blush.
“Fancy.”
He jerked his eyes to hers. She held a warm, disarming smile.
“Relax.”
He did. He didn’t know why, but he did; the tension in his shoulders eased, his heart rate slowed and he released a breath he’d not known he’d been holding.
Celestia nodded. “There. That’s better, is it not?”
“Y-yes…” He somehow managed to smile for her. “Much better. Thank you, Princess.”
Celestia giggled, a delightful sound. “I did nothing, Fancy. I have simply learned that it often takes my little ponies a moment to get over what I like to call ‘first contact.’”
He chuckled along with her. “I think I understand.”
For a brief moment, everything was pleasant, but then a frown formed on Celestia’s lips. She turned her face away. “I have been to Mirar el Cielo. I am sorry that you have to meet me under such circumstances.”
The happy bubble burst, and Fancy slowly lowered his head. “As am I, Princess… As am I.”
She turned her eyes back to him. “I am truly sorry, Fancy, but I must ask that you recount the events.”
He sucked in a deep breath and shuddered. “I understand. My recollection is… vivid, but I am not sure what information you can gather from me. I honestly don’t know much about dragons, your highness.”
“That is okay,” she said, voice reassuring. “Any small amount of information could be helpful in solving this terrible ordeal before it escalates. Come,” she turned back for the door, “let us get more comfortable.”
He followed her to a much larger room, lavishly decorated with ornate purple and red tapestries and brightly illuminated by a tall, wide window. A canopy bed sat in one corner, tall and comfortable-looking. Celestia guided him to a trio of pillows, taking for herself the one closest to the window. Fancy sat on one opposite her, the soft touch of velvet failing to ease his mind.
“Would you like anything before we begin?” Celestia leaned toward him. “Something to drink? Or eat?”
Fancy felt at his stomach almost instinctually. “N-no, thank you. Food and my memories don’t go well together.”
The princess bowed her head and closed her eyes. A deep frown touched her lips and her brow furrowed. “I understand. Once again, I apologize for asking this of you.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, his eyes drifting to the window. He already felt tired, and he hadn’t even started. “I know it is necessary.”
She opened her eyes to study him. After several long, terse seconds she nodded. “You may begin when ready. Please, take what time you need.”
Recounting the attack was almost as harrowing as the real thing. Fancy recalled the initial shock, the terror that came to him upon realizing what was happening. He could still see Sparks’ eyes at that last moment – so alarmed, so confused. The echo of screams haunted his ears as he told of rescuing Fleur from the flames; his stomach churned when he envisioned the bodies falling from the sky like rain; he could almost feel his hair shrivel at the intense heat of a dragon’s breath.
Lance’s death rendered Fancy silent for a time.
He moved on, the dismay fresh in his mind as he re-envisioned the collapse of the fort’s great balcony and the shrieks of the ponies in the water.
Celestia spoke little save to ask a question or two, her expression a mask devoid of emotion.
Fancy ended his story with his falling unconscious in the shed, emotionally and physically drained. His head hung loosely, his mind slowly and uncontrollably going over and over the scenes he couldn’t get rid of. He didn’t want to tell her what he saw after he woke up; the very memory brought him to the verge of vomiting. He had tears on his cheeks, though in his vivid retelling he couldn’t remember when he’d started crying.
Seeing that he was done, Celestia bowed her head. “Thank you for telling me this, Fancy. And I thank you, also, for saving the life of the young Fleur; that anypony survived at all is a miracle.”
He nodded, rubbing the moisture away. “P-Princess… why would the dragons attack Equestria?”
Celestia turned her gaze to the window once more and regained her solemn frown. “I do not know. First Fang Blazen has ruled the Burning Lands for nearly eight centuries, and was always reasonable during our negotiations for the dragon migrations. I can’t imagine he would attack us for no reason.”
He tilted his head. “First Fang Blazen?”
She nodded. “I understand that you do not know of him. The average pony knows nothing of the dragons, and my own knowledge is distressingly limited. Blazen is the leader of the dragons.”
Fancy scowled. “I wonder if he was at Sueño.”
“No.” Celestia’s frown deepened as she thought. “Blazen is orange. You did not see any orange dragons.”
“I see.” He followed her gaze to the window. The ocean was visible in the distance, shimmering in the afternoon sun. Fancy saw it and recalled his many mornings on the balcony. He sought to recapture that image, that moment of calm and comfort, but it was elusive.
Even so… he glanced to the princess, noted the slight sag in her shoulders. He knew there could be no real cheer in this day, but still… he might never get another chance.
“I wanted to thank you.”
Celestia shifted, coming out of her thoughts slowly. She turned to cock her head. “Thank me?”
He nodded, blushing as he kept his eyes on the window. “Every morning, I would wake early and go to the eastern outlook of Mirar el Cielo to watch the sunrise. I’m going to miss that balcony.” He bowed his head and pawed at the floor as his cheeks burned. “I… I love your sunrise.”
There was a moment of quiet. He fidgeted and kept his eyes on his hooves.
“Thank you, Fancy.”
He glanced up to find her beaming a smile so radiant it might have melted his heart. “You’d be surprised how little I hear that. It is always a delight to learn that somepony appreciates my art.”
Fancy averted his eyes once more, knowing his grin looked foalish. Then he recalled how he’d never get to stand on that balcony again, and his pleasure collapsed.
He sighed. “So… what happens now?”
Celestia regained her serious frown. “Now I send couriers south with messages of peace.”
Fancy’s eyebrows rose. “Is that wise? What if the dragons—” He clamped his mouth shut and bowed his head; he knew he might have just stepped dangerously out of bounds. What was he thinking, questioning the princess?
Yet Celestia did not seem at all offended. “You are correct, I may be sending those ponies to their deaths, but I must try to forge a peace as soon as possible. Equestria cannot survive a war against the dragons.”
His head rose and he gaped. “Even with you here?”
Celestia grimaced as she stared out the window once more. “Despite how ponies use my name in their oaths, I am no goddess. My magic has limitations. No, Fancy: if the dragons invade in force, I will not be able to stop them.”
“Oh…” He took this in, stomach tight as he considered the potential consequences of this revelation.
She leaned forward a little, a frail smile on her lips. “Take heart, Fancy, for the dragons have not invaded. This may only be the actions of a small rogue force, and that is something we can stop.”
Fancy wanted to smile for her. He couldn’t.
“Princess, I was there. I’ve seen firsthoof what a mere three dragons can do. They wiped the island out in minutes. I… I don’t know what good the army can do.”
She sighed and nodded. “You are right. Even one dragon is a match for an army of ponies. We can stop them, Fancy, I know it… but the cost will be high. This is just one more reason I must try to contact the First Fang. If it is a rogue force within the Burning Lands, he might be able to help us put a stop to it.”
Fancy shifted from hoof to hoof. “And… if it’s not a rogue force?”
The princess remained silent for several long seconds, her eyes fogged over with thought.
“Then pray, Fancy. Pray for us all.”
Night had fallen over Estéril Pezuñas. Fancy had spent the day alone, thinking long and hard on his meeting with Celestia. There was no escape from the nagging worry; it ate at him like a parasite, churned in his stomach and invaded his mind. He realized that Equestria could very well be facing its end, but he didn’t dare share this with anypony.
He ate dinner in the commons in a corner on his own. He watched the other soldiers and nobles, saw how they laughed and joked and talked about their petty, everyday troubles. It all seemed so unimportant. Did they not understand that an entire island of ponies had been slaughtered only a couple hours away? Were they not aware that a dragon could reach this city within two days of leaving the Badlands?
Yet Fancy said nothing. Let them have their pleasures and think nothing had changed. They would understand soon enough. Perhaps their morale would be higher this way. Besides, Celestia wanted things quiet. She hadn’t said as much, but her intentions were clear.
When would the dragons come? Would they come at all? Was Sueño just a one-time thing? He didn’t dare to hope, but the thought was still there.
Heart heavy, he made his way back to his room. Once more he paused, for there were still two guards outside Fleur’s door. He’d tried to go in and speak to her earlier, but they’d turned him away. Now he eyed them curiously as he entered his room. Were they protecting her… or trying to make sure she didn’t run away again?
Which led to another thought that had been tormenting him all day: why had she fled the castle? What was Fleur doing in Sueño, living on the streets and starving?
Fancy stepped up to the window and gazed at the city below. Fleur was Daring Deeds’ niece, so surely she would have everything she could possibly want. Something serious had to have driven her away from this life of luxury. He closed his eyes and pictured her face from when he’d left her that morning, and one he again he saw the fear.
He had to talk to her.
“Good evening, son of Bright Plume.”
He spun about, horn glowing and eyes sharp, and found a short pegasus standing before the closed door. Fancy almost had to shield his eyes against the hideous mix of grey coat and pink mane.
“Who are you?”
The pegasus’ face was hard as a rock. “I’ve come to ask a few questions.”
Fancy sneered and kept his horn glowing. “Answer my question.”
“No. You’ll answer mine.”
“I do not take orders from civilians.” Fancy stepped forward, pointing his horn at the stranger’s chest. “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”
The stranger’s expression remained unchanged. “I am in the service of Equestria, that is all you need to know. And I need to know what you do if I am to do my job.”
“Which is?”
“Making sure the dragons don’t destroy Equestria.”
Fancy considered him for several long, tense seconds. He wasn’t sure he could believe anything told to him by a strange pegasus who randomly trespasses on ponies’ privacy. Then again, if the pegasus wished to kill him, why announce his presence?
Knowing he might need to call upon his magic at any time, Fancy kept his focus as he let the energy in his horn die. He stood tall and maintained as solemn and commanding a presence as he could. “I’ve already told my story twice now. I have no intention of repeating it.”
“You don’t have to,” the stranger said. “I’m looking for a few specifics. I don’t have many questions.”
Fancy nodded. “Ask.”
The pegasus observed him, his hard eyes never leaving Fancy’s. “Three questions. First: did it seem to you as though the dragons were seeking anything specific?”
Fancy tilted his head. “You mean were they searching for something?”
“Or somepony.”
Fancy had to admit, that was something that hadn’t been asked by the officers or Celestia. He tried to think on the attack, working to ignore the worst memories. “I… no. They seemed interested in little but wanton destruction and slaughter. It never appeared to me that their aim was anything more than that.”
He shivered as the memory of a street full of dead bodies came to mind.
The stallion set the back of a hoof to his lips as he thought on this. If he had any great revelations, however, he kept them to himself.
“Two: did the dragons say anything to indicate their purpose? A reason for the attack, for example.”
Fancy cringed; those deep, hideous laughs echoed in his ears. “Only taunts.”
As expressionless as ever, the pegasus nodded. “Very well. Three: do you know what killed the ponies on the ships?”
Fancy blinked, not sure what the stranger meant, but then he recalled the bodies he and Fleur had found. He bowed his head with a frown; he’d not thought of that since they’d left. The dragons had been such a huge problem by themselves…
“No, I have no idea what did that. I just know it couldn’t have been the dragons.”
The pegasus stomped his hoof with a snort. “Damn.” He turned for the door.
Fancy raised his head. “Wha… that’s it? You ask the questions and leave?”
“You were one of the only two witnesses,” the pegasus said, bitterness reverberating in his voice. “I was hoping to get much more information than that out of you. Yes, I’m leaving. I have more important things to do than sit around and have tea and crumpets with a pretty rich colt.”
He was out the door before Fancy could respond.
Fancy sat and gaped at the closed door for several seconds. He wasn’t sure what to make of this odd encounter. He would have expected a clandestine interview to be much more than just three questions. Who was that pony, anyway?
Fancy turned to gaze out the window, his eyes on the calm sea. An intense disquiet filled him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something obvious. Should he be concerned about this? The stallion had been brusque, but he’d not tried to harm Fancy. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps he worked for Celestia… although Fancy highly doubted she would approve of the pony’s methods. Well, at least he’d come to Fancy and not—
He stood up with a jerk, eyes wide; Fleur. She was the only other survivor. Why wouldn’t he go to her?
Fancy didn’t know why the idea scared him, but he wanted to check up on the filly. Maybe he was being silly – after all, the stallion had only asked a few questions – but something about the whole ordeal made him uneasy. He turned and went to the door, telling himself that he would just look outside and see the guards. That would be good enough confirmation she was safe. That might even be why the stranger had come to Fancy; he probably couldn’t get to Fleur.
He opened the door, prepared to speak—
The guards were gone.
It took a moment for Fancy’s mind to process this fact. He stared at the spot that was supposed to hold the left-side guard, now empty. A look down the hall revealed nothing; no guards, no servants, not even his brief visitor.
Fancy knew he was being foalish. Fleur had probably left her room, and the guards would of course have to follow. For her protection. Even so, he crept up to the door and pressed his ear to the solid wood.
Muffled voices reached him. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but he easily recognized Fleur.
He didn’t recognize the male voice.
Pain. Pain and soreness. These things made up Fleur’s world. She lay on her bed, face buried in her pillow. She kept her forehooves still, resisting the urge to feel at her stinging flanks or rub at the spot between her hindquarters.
That part was especially raw.
She wouldn’t acknowledge it. The bastard had forced tears out of her, but she would not cry now. Even if it was only a small resistance, at least it was something.
Her world was blackness. She stared into it, unable to get his grin out of her eyes or his panting out of her ears. There was a ghostly sensation on her back, reminding her of how he’d pressed her down.
She wanted to scream.
She refused to do that, too.
Slowly, her forelegs aching, Fleur forced herself to a sitting position. She winced at the pain in her withers where she’d bent just a little too much, yet there wasn’t a mark on her. There never was anymore.
Her head rose slowly to the mirror in the corner. She looked a mess, her mane having gone wild and her face set in a long, dismal glower. She still had the streaks on her cheeks. She reached up to brush the moisture away… and froze.
There was a stallion standing right behind her.
Fleur let out a small shout and practically leapt from her bed, but her forelegs gave out and she fell. She jerked to her hooves and turned to back away from the stranger until her hindquarters bumped the stone wall. The contact made her wince and tuck her tail between her legs.
He was a unicorn, above average in height. He had an unusual, mottled brown coat and a black mane, and his rosewood eyes were downcast to the bed. He didn't look directly at her, and he had a certain unpleasantness to his frown that kept Fleur on edge.
“K-keep away from me,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare come any closer.”
His eyes met hers, cold and serious. “Or you’ll what?”
She chewed her lip and her eyes moved to the door. “I’ll… call the guards. My uncle—”
The stallion reached up to tap a black knife hanging by a necklace. It swung in a wide arc... like a pendulum.
“There are no guards tonight.”
Fleur’s eyes widened, her breathing grew heavy. She knew she was in no position to defend herself.
“L-leave me alone. Please, I don’t have anything.”
The stranger grimaced and pressed a hoof to his forehead. “Relax, Miss Purpurnyj, I’m not here to hurt you.” His unpleasant eyes fell on the bed. “Looks like you’ve already had enough of that today.”
She sneered and didn’t move. “How am I to believe you?”
He considered her with a contemplative frown. “Hmm… good question. There’s really no good answer, either.”
He raised his head to lock eyes with her again, though they lost some of their harshness. “Look, you answer my questions, I leave. That’s really all there is to this.”
“Questions?” She tilted her head. “What kind of questions?”
The stranger averted his eyes. “About Sueño.”
Fleur blinked. “The dragon attack? Do you work for Celestia?”
His eyes met hers once more, and this time they were hopeful. “Will you answer my questions, Miss Purpurnyj?”
He wouldn’t say it, but in Fleur’s mind it was as good as a confirmation. Could she trust him? Would he just go running to Sir Deeds? Her eyes drifted to the door, to the window, back to him. This could be an opportunity.
She didn’t dare pass it up.
“Only if you help me.”
His ears perked. He leaned forward with a frown and examined her. “Help you?”
She nodded firmly. “Get me out of here. I don’t care where you take me, as long as I’m not here. You promise to do that and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t make deals, and you’re not my responsibility.”
“Do you want my answers or not?”
“Do you want Equestria to burn?”
Fleur’s heart hit her throat. She stared with wide eyes. “Surely what I have to say isn’t so valuable as to stop the dragons.”
“I don’t know, you won’t tell it to me. But, if you really think what you have to say holds no value…” He turned and trotted for the door.
“Wait!”
He paused, not bothering to look back. Fleur held her hoof out as if to catch him, her mind working frantically. “P-please, at least consider. I’ll answer your questions, just… just think about it. Please, I can’t stay here.”
He turned to her, his expression entirely unreadable. Seconds passed in silence as he studied her. Fleur bowed her head in shame, aware that he had no reason to help her.
“Did you hear or see anything to suggest why the dragons attacked?”
She sighed and turned away, her stomach churning. “No. I… to be honest, I panicked. I wasn’t paying much attention to anything aside from staying alive.”
“Are you sure? They didn’t say anything during the attack? Think hard, Miss Purpurnyj.”
She bowed her head and tried to focus, but the attack was something of a blur. The only thing she readily remembered was being trapped under the wooden beam, the heat at her back so intense she actually thought she was on fire. The screams of those already burning filled her ears as loud as the ones from her nightmares, and she couldn’t resist a shiver.
Yet she also remembered seeing Fancy. His face, desperate and determined at once, his horn glowing like a beacon.
After that? A blur of fleeing and crying and screaming and flames. It wasn’t until they’d reached the tunnel that she was able to readily recall anything, and that was only due to her wonder at the shield Fancy had formed to protect them.
“I…” Fleur shook her head and refused to let her tears emerge. “I’m sorry. I just remember that they laughed.”
She turned to the stallion with a feeling like something had a grip on her chest. “They were slaughtering us, and they were laughing. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound.”
His eyes shifted just slightly as he stared for a couple seconds.
“I see. I apologize for having to ask about it.”
She snorted and turned her eyes away. “At least somepony did. First my uncle’s soldiers, and then Celestia. Do they think I can’t handle it? That I’m too young and fragile to cope?”
The stallion blinked. “You mean you wanted to be asked?”
“I wanted to be included,” she snarled. “I’m not some feeble filly. I’ve already been through far more than the average pony goes through in a whole lifetime, and they treat me like a child.”
She stomped her hoof and glared at him. “Give me a chance to fend for myself and I’ll show you all what I can do!”
His eyes widened slightly, but the moment passed quickly and his expression became hard. “There was something else I wanted to know about: the bodies in the ship.”
Fleur growled and turned her head away once more. “So you don’t care, either? Fine; I don’t know anything about the bodies.”
He stepped forward. “Are you sure? You didn’t perhaps see any markings, any indications at all of—”
“No.” She bared her teeth but refused to look his way. “Maybe they died of fear. You probably think that’s a ridiculous notion, considering it came from a feeble filly.”
There was a pause. Fleur let the burning anger fester in her gut for a few seconds, but finally turned to gauge his reaction.
What she saw knocked her anger away: he was staring at her with an expression so dark, so menacing that she felt herself pressing against the wall. His eyes pierced her and made her feel terribly small. Even from across the bed, there was a sensation that he was pressing tight against her.
“Don’t ever make light of fear, Miss Purpurnyj.” His whispering voice clawed at her brain and made her gasp. “I have seen how it affects ponies. It can kill you, just as sure as any dragon.”
She lowered her head, not wanting to look into those eyes any longer than she had to. A tremble coursed through her body as she fought to push down the fear that he had somehow managed to implant in her mind. Ponies had sent her ominous looks before, but never had one managed to push this kind of reaction into her. It wasn’t like what her uncle could do, and it was as confusing as it was terrifying.
“I apologize.” She glanced up to find him turned away with his head low. “That was uncalled for. You’ve been through so much as it is, I don’t need to add to it.”
Fleur bowed her head and said nothing. A long, anxious silence came between them as she slowly beat down her fear.
His question came abruptly: “Tell me, Miss Purpurnyj, do you know how to copy spells?”
She turned to him with a questioning frown. “You mean… to see a spell being cast?” He nodded. “I understand the concept, but never tried it.”
He tapped his horn with a solemn nod. “Try it now.”
She cocked her head and wondered what he was going to do. She didn’t know if this was some trick… but at the same time, she didn’t think she had much to lose. This in mind, Fleur locked her eyes on his horn and concentrated. She tried to focus her magic on it, not attempting to achieve any particular spell.
Seconds passed. “Do you have it?”
She kept her focus as she whispered, “I… I think so.”
He nodded once more. “Watch what the magic does.”
His horn glowed a dark red, and Fleur’s eyes widened at the sight of strange shapes. Circles spun about the horn, lines shifted up and down its length, a pulsing glow started at the tip and gradually descended to the base. It was the workings of magic, that ethereal energy that nopony could see, but every unicorn could feel on their own horn.
Fleur realized he was offering her something, and strained her eyes to take it all in at once. It couldn’t be a simple spell, the motions were far too complex. A bead of sweat slipped down her cheek and she gritted her teeth as she committed every tiny motion to memory.
The magic slowly faded. Fleur blinked and shook her head before giving him a quizzical look. “What was that?”
His expression was as solemn as ever. “I left out one small part, which I think will be obvious to you. This—” he closed his eyes and lit his horn once more, “—is what it does.”
She gasped as he began to sway, like she was looking at him through a veil of water. Slowly he began to fade, and after only a second he'd disappeared. Her eyes went to the floor and slowly rose up to the ceiling, but there was no sign of him.
Her heart began to pound, her lips turned up into a smile. “An invisibility spell?”
She jumped as his head appeared. The neck ended as if it had been neatly cut off.
“A mirage," he said. "Anypony looking at you from beyond it will not see you.” He disappeared behind the unseen veil, then his head and shoulders appeared sideways as if from behind a curtain. “Limited cover, but effective in corners and small spaces.”
Even if it wasn’t an invisibility spell, Fleur could see the incredible potential of the magic. A big smile formed on her lips as she crossed her eyes towards her horn. “W-with this… I can hide. If I use it properly, I might never be touched by my uncle again!”
She looked down and gasped when she saw the unicorn heading for the door. “Wait! Y-you have to show me more.”
“I don’t have time,” he replied, not bothering to look at her. “I’m a busy stallion.”
She took a daring step closer. “Then take me with you.”
“No.”
She fell to her haunches and stared at his back. “But… but why give me this if you don’t want to help me?”
He sighed and shot her an apologetic look. “That’s not my job. Now I have to go.”
“No!” She took another step forward, a sneer on her lips. “Help me! I know you can!”
The stranger shook his head and turned for the door. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Fleur’s mind worked frantically. Her eyes darted about the room for inspiration. How to stop him, how to get the help she needed?
Reacting on gut instinct, she reared her head back and fired a spell. It was a thin beam that cut through the air and hit him right in the back of the head. It was gone as fast as it had come.
The stallion turned on her with a snarl, his horn shining. Then he blinked and touched the back of his head. The glow of his horn faded as he shot her a questioning frown.
“What was that supposed to do?”
Not what he was expecting, that she knew. She pouted and bowed her head, making sure to sag her shoulders and lower her ears to complete the effect.
He sighed. “Not even strong enough to cause pain. I wish I could help you, Miss Purpurnyj, but it’s impossible. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He turned away and, horn glowing, disappeared from sight in a manner not unlike the mirage.
The door opened, and Fancy spilled into the room with a shout that made her jump. He jerked to a sitting position, cheeks red as he quickly brushed back his mane and looked to her with wide eyes.
“Fleur, I am so sorry, but I saw your guards were missing and… and…”
His hasty explanation petered out as he peered around the room, all anxiousness fading. “Who were you talking to?”
Fleur took a moment to compose herself with a hoof to her chest and a deep breath. She eyed Fancy, who scanned the room like a hawk seeking prey. She appreciated him, for without his help she’d have died on that island.
But she couldn’t trust him.
“Nopony. There was nopony here.”
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So Fleur's uncle turns out to be abusive after all. Not so much a hero as one fallen. We could kinda sense that from him since he showed up but couldn't be sure, so good job there. His first meeting we see with Fleur leaves me confused, though; he's not as careful around her as I would expect for someone with his reputation at stake. A conversation for elsewhere perhaps. A depressingly interesting subject.
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Daring Deeds is another sore issue for me. I have a very specific scene in mind for him but, like with Hoofknife, he's going to spend most of the story off-camera. So, when the moment finally comes, I dread that it won't have the same impact as it could. I'm still trying to figure out something to fix this. A similar situation also exists for Reddux.
Maybe I can squeeze in a chapter or two from these characters' perspectives, but I dunno if that would really be beneficial in the long run...
Oh wow! I completly forgot that this was a thing!
Anyhoo, good start. Little more violent than my usual fare, but its pretty cool to see the final Boss from twilights inferno in his own story.
Oh wow! I completly forgot that this was a thing!
Anyhoo, good start. Little more violent than my usual fare, but its pretty cool to see the final Boss from twilights inferno in his own story.
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Despite the violent opener, things have been going kind of slow.
Glad you could join us!
Well, there's one more 'slow' chapter and then the proverbial fecal matter will hit the equally proverbial spinning blades. Afterwards I will be looking for ways to enliven the entire story.
Ahh, I figured this was Fleur's issue but it was still so hard to see it. That's so brutal. Hero or not, her Uncle is real scum and should get screwed over sometime.
It's neat to see Fancy and Fine's differing views on Celestia, that's definitely not gonna cause friction between the two of them when they start working together. Definitely.
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Yeeeah, about that whole 'hero' thing...
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...
Good. Hope Reddux eats him.
Rapist: Confirmed.
Dick: Confirmed.
Double Agent for the Dragons: Still callin' it.
As much as Moonbutt is best Princess, I'll always enjoy a good Celestia scene. It's unfortunate most Celestia fics that I've enjoyed ended before their time.
I can't wait for some form of ironic justice to put an end to Daring Deed.
"An intense diquiet filled him" found a typo
I knew it, the bastard is a rapist...Fuck him, I hope Reddux gets ampiece of him before he bites it too.
I loved the scene with Celestia. You captured her..gentleness I suppose I would call it.
Also, I bet that Fleurs uncle didn't ever really kill a dragon. That's probably horse shit. Grrrr this bastard pisses me off! I hope his death is very slow, painful, and vividly described!
Fancy sees Celestia as all that is good, fine and dandy, and Fine resents her for her treatment of the less fortunate ponies like himself. This relationship shall be interesting..
Don't think this slipped my notice.
Oh, like this?
img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140106100125/mlp/images/thumb/9/9c/Prim_Hemline_speaking_S4E08.png/640px-Prim_Hemline_speaking_S4E08.png
That's just a tiny bit cliché.
Enter Fine Crime. Also, you bastard. (No, not you, the other one.)
A pity that Fancy was forced away from Fleur when she needed him most. Now they're both being punished for circumstances beyond their control.
You wound me, Paul. And yet I love it.
That would read better as his, or he whispered.