Argóint
The air above the plains of northern Equestria was cold and thin, though it was bearable on account of the lack of clouds, which were normally thick and cold with snow this time of year. But the clouds had decided to move elsewhere, or else they had been moved, and the sun shone weakly on the deck of the RES Mercy as she soared gracefully through the skies, her nose pointing straight towards the mountains which had appeared seemingly overnight, while most of the occupants of the boat were asleep. It’d be less than a day before the Mercy returned to her berth in Dawndale if the wind held, and the pegasi on board made sure it would hold. There was a young Lady on board, after all.
“Hold it steady, dammit!” the young Lady in question shouted to her companion, as the basin full of bottles wobbled yet again, threatening to spill the carefully arranged pile of glassware onto the deck and spill their contents.
Cobblestone grit her teeth, trying not to say anything as she focused harder on keeping the uneven weights attached to the sides from pulling it in one direction. “Maybe,” she growled, “If you removed them with a bit more urgency, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”
Serale lifted her horn, a green aura surrounding one of the bottles as she lifted it from its resting place and placed it back in the box lying at Libra’s hooves, a box filled with hay and several compartments for the bottles to reside in. “I can only do one at a time,” she grunted. “Or else I’ll break them. Unless you have a better idea?”
“Two minutes have passed,” Libra said calmly, checking her watch. “You have two remaining.”
Cobblestone bit back another string of curses as she felt the wind tug at the basin yet again. It was as low as she was allowed to take it, a good twenty feet from the deck, and she fought for every inch the wind tried to send it plummeting down towards her. The weights swayed dangerously, and she felt her horn twinge in fatigue as the basin tried to sway with them.
“I’ve almost got them,” Serale said, her voice tight with strain. “Just three more.”
She carefully removed another flask, this one full of a putrid-looking green fluid, and placed it in the box delicately. The consequences of dropping one here did not appeal to her or any of the several spectators who had gathered around curiously.
“Hurry up!” Cobblestone snapped. “This thing is bucking heavy!”
“Language!” Libra warned. “I’ll not have foul language from my apprentices where I can hear it.”
“Then tell Serale to move it!”
Serale’s eyes flared dangerously, and she grabbed the next bottle harder than she meant to, pulling it from the basin quickly. The bottle wobbled dangerously, creaked as she brought it down, and before she could do more than get it close to the deck, it shattered, spilling most of its contents over Cobblestone.
Cobblestone stood, blinking and soaking, covered in a vile purple substance that smelled of rotting fish. It took a moment for her to realize what had happened, and then her face contorted with anger, as she tilted the basin towards her fellow apprentice, spilling the last bottle over the edge. It hit Serale squarely on the head, covering her in what both appeared to be and smelled like rotten tomato juice. The basin thudded to the deck unceremoniously as Serale’s mouth opened in shock, and with cries nearly identical in pitch and tone, the two ponies began to wipe the fluids from themselves while the gathered crew attempted not to snicker.
“Why did you do that?” Serale demanded, trying not to retch.
Cobblestone removed her hat, mopping her face with it. “Because you did that on purpose!” she shouted. “For the third time, too!”
“Then you lift the bloody bottles, and I’ll hold the tray up,” Serale groused, shivering as cold slime slid off of her back. She turned to Libra. “Can we go back inside and change, Magus?” she asked.
Libra sighed, shaking her head. “You two go down and get changed. No more practice today,” she said. “When you’re done, meet me in my cabin before dinner. We need to discuss your performance over the past week, you’ve been useless since we left Ponyville.” She looked each of her apprentices in the eye, the two of them looking miserable and cold, but most of all, distracted. Her horn flashed, and most of the liquid disappeared from the deck, though a lingering odor of fish and burned garbage still hung in the air, and her apprentices were still covered in muck. “Go,” she said. “Now.”
The two apprentices stormed off towards the hatch to the hold, neither of them looking towards the other as they did so. Perhaps it was a hoof put wrong, or somepony slipped in a bit of muck, or a strong crosswind caught one of the two of them off-guard, but there was a collision. And then everything went south with remarkable rapidity.
“Watch where you’re going,” Cobblestone muttered. “You don’t have your nose in a book, so there’s no excuse, you priss.”
Serale stopped short. “I beg your pardon?” she demanded. “Some of us actually value our education enough to bother learning how to read, you boor!”
“Oh, is that so?” Cobblestone demanded. “Because the only one I see trying to accomplish something out here is me!”
“Please,” Serale retorted, “Any dumb muscle can hold a bloody tray.”
Cobblestone’s nostrils flared. “Says the little Lady who packed twenty dresses and no winter clothes!”
“Says the gutter thief who wouldn’t know taste if it bit her in the flank!”
“I’m twice the mage you are!”
Serale snorted. “You’re an idiot who couldn’t find her flank with both hooves and a map.”
“Oh, get down of your high horse, your Ladyship,” Cobblestone said, ignoring the scandalized looks being directed her way at her bold manner of address. “We wouldn’t even be on this damn airship if it wasn’t for you.”
Serale stepped forward. “And what do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.
Cobblestone stepped forward, lowering her voice so it was scarcely above a whisper in her ear. “We’re up here,” she said, “Because your mother wanted you out of the capital. Because of that business in the arena, which makes you an embarrassment. Your mother wanted you gone because she’s ashamed of you.”
Serale rocked back as if Cobblestone had physically slapped her. Her eyes welled up with angry tears, but she managed the last word. “At least I have a mother,” she spat, and bolted for the entrance belowdecks, leaving a seething Cobblestone behind.
“So,” Fidelis said, his tone blunt. “Let’s address the elephant in the room. One of our number is a traitor.”
Vino looked at the floor and said nothing. As the one of the only two captains involved in the raid on the train, he had expected to be called into Fidelis’s office for a debriefing on the incident, and had spent most of the past week alternately hoping for and dreading the call. This was not the direction he had expected the conversation to go. Fidelis examined him calmly, waiting for a sign of guilt from him, and found nothing.
“I don’t sense anything untoward from you,” he said. “That’s a good sign, at least. I had a feeling that since you and Afi were the only two actually attacked during the raid, you’d be clean.”
“Sir,” Vino said, “When I suggested that we had a spy in the ranks, it was only a suggestion. I’m not sure…”
“Lady Serale, Magus Libra, and Lady Everstar agree with your assessment,” Fidelis replied offhandedly. “I happen too as well, but that’s not my business. Nor is it yours, Captain, I certainly didn’t begin an investigation based solely on your years of work in the field of Royal Intelligence. I’m telling you this because I think you’re least likely to be the turncoat in the ranks. Frankly, you’re an open book to most, and I’m not just saying this because I’m a Changeling.”
Vino started at that, and Fidelis eyed him curiously. “Will that be a problem, Captain?” he inquired.
Vino shook his head. “I have nothing against your kind, sir,” he said truthfully. “It’s just that most Changelings don’t announce themselves so openly.”
“I’ve never hid my heritage from anypony,” Fidelis replied. “The reason I wear this…” he gestured to the blue of his coat and the black of his mane, “Is to keep ponies comfortable. Lady Everstar insisted that a Changeling be included in the command staff of Lady Serale’s Guard, and I happened to be the most qualified. That’s also why I’ve been cleared of suspicion. If I’d turned…”
“Your hive would know,” Vino guessed quickly. “Of course. That’s why you were able to communicate with Lady Everstar, too.”
Fidelis nodded approvingly. “Sharp,” he said. “I got the message this morning, probably one of the last I’ll get for a while, seeing as we’ll be around Dawndale for a few months. Princess Cadance allows very few Changelings in her lands, she doesn’t like them much.”
“Will you be hiding your identity there, sir?” Vino asked. “So I know whether or not I should bring it up?”
Fidelis’s expression was neutral, as unreadable as any Vino had seen. “I will not order you, or any pony under my command, to lie about my heritage in conversation,” he said. “But your discretion with that information would be appreciated. Your discretion would also be appreciated in the days to come. I have an assignment for you.”
“An assignment?” Vino asked curiously. “What kind?”
“Lady Serale has authorized me to bring in another pony on the investigation,” Fidelis said. “After some consideration, I decided on you, for reasons I’ll specify in a moment. Come tomorrow, I’ll call a briefing with the other captains, you included, and announce we found the source of the leak back at the castle, a filing cabinet that was broken into and some missing documents. Hopefully that’ll be enough to lull our spy into thinking they’re safe, at least for the moment. The next part is where you come in.”
Fidelis leaned back in his chair, contemplating the ceiling. “You’re a very junior officer, Vino,” he said. “I’ve brought it up before, and I will again. You show promise, but you lack experience. Your little stunt on the bridge, when we were supposed to be moving and you stopped to fire, proves that. Tomorrow, I’ll call you on it. I’ll then assign you to shadow the other captains, in order to better learn from their example.”
“I take it that’s not the only reason you’re doing it,” Vino said.
“Watch them closely,” Fidelis said. “Don’t be nosy, but note what you see. Any strange behavior you notice will be reported to me in a prompt and discreet manner if it cannot wait for the weekly ‘performance assessments’ I will be having with you behind closed doors.”
Vino grimaced. It wasn’t going to be any easier to do his job with the ponies under his command second-guessing his decisions based on those meetings. Not to mention it was likely that Fidelis wasn’t joking about his performance, and he really would expect Vino to be learning how to properly command those beneath him while he was gathering information.
“With respect, sir,” he said carefully, “And understanding that this isn’t me trying to avoid anything, why did you pick me for this? You said it yourself, I’m an open book. I’ve never had any kind of aptitude for this kind of work.”
Fidelis leaned forward in his chair, tapping one hoof on his desk contemplatively. He looked to be on the cusp of making a decision of monumental import, before coming to a conclusion and opening a drawer on the desk, withdrawing a small folio and laying it out before him.
“Your file paints a very specific picture,” Fidelis said. “Not necessarily a military one, but a certain kind of soldier nonetheless. Would it surprise you to know that I was once a member of Royal Intelligence before I started a military career?”
Vino looked at Fidelis more closely. He didn’t look like much of a spy, but then, Changelings had a knack for disguise by nature, even without their ability to change shape. And Vino supposed that the earmark of a good spy would be that he didn’t look like one at all. Frankly, Captain Fidelis looked like a career officer and nothing more.
“I spent two decades in service to the Lady without wearing a uniform, or a particularly permanent face. Eventually, I decided on a more regimented lifestyle, but I still have a few contacts in intelligence, both Royal and Military. One of my jobs near the end of my career was scouring the Kingdom looking for new recruits. They gave us profiles to look for, profiles that I have to admit turned out to belong to very good agents, assuming they remained alive long enough to make something of themselves.”
He opened the folder with a crisp snap and began to leaf through it. “A promising record, to say the least,” Fidelis said. “Third in rifles and pistols, third in close-quarters combat, first with bladed weapons and other sundries like maces and hammers. Not particularly gregarious, understands social cues well enough, but a bit rough around the edges. A natural leader, but understands how to work alone.”
He lay down the file, looking at Vino. “Before I left the service of Intelligence in favor of the Army, I personally examined a hundred files like this one, all of them remarkably similar. It would seem that, despite the Lady’s efforts, ponies are still in some ways creatures of predestination. Coupled with the more…exhaustive efforts the Lady Serale put into place in order to construct cohesive profiles for my examination, I’ve a fairly good idea of your innate capabilities.”
“I’m no spy,” Vino said flatly. “I’m a knight, and knights swear to live lives of honesty and forthright behavior.”
“They also swear to defend the innocent and serve the Lady,” Fidelis rebuffed. “And I happen to agree with you not being a spy. But then, you’ve not been trained to be one, have you?”
Vino wasn’t sure of how to respond to that remark. Was Fidelis offering to train him as a spy?
“That answer to that would be no,” Fidelis said. “My goodness, you’re easy to read. If I were to train you, that’d be the first thing we worked on. The term I’m looking for in regards to you is ‘informant’. You are not to attempt to uncover information, you are not to investigate your fellow captains, you’re only to observe and report.”
Vino felt uneasy at the prospect of ratting out a fellow captain, but then he recalled the explosions that rocked Starfall, the screams of ponies caught in the blaze of an airship, and the desperate flight beneath the trees of the Everfree. His jaw tightened, his eyes gleamed with steely determination, and Vino stood up a bit straighter. “Just the captains, sir?” he asked. “It’s possible that it might not have been just us.”
Fidelis chewed his lip contemplatively. “No,” he said, and paused again, eyes narrowed. “Only the captains would have been present, but we would have passed the orders to our sergeants as well. Assuming that our traitor would have been able to either sneak away to inform the ambushers, or potentially send a message via magic, we could be looking at another two potential informants in each rifle group. Fifteen ponies, then, instead of five. That makes more work.”
“Speaking of magic,” Vino said, “What about the mages? If anypony could have sent off a message, it’d be a magically gifted pony who was just as privy to our plans as we were.”
“Magic users are tricky,” Fidelis said. “One of the first lessons learned by each prospective mage is how to control their power, which, by necessity, translates to control of their emotions and thoughts. For somepony like you, Vino, they’d be very difficult to read, and even if you did find something, you’d be in danger of them finding out and acting to remove you.”
Vino shuddered at the prospect of facing the mages of their Guard. He hadn’t seen the tryouts they’d participated in, but he’d heard descriptions of what they were capable of. The thought of that kind of power being directed at him made him more than a little queasy.
“So who, then?” Vino asked. “If I can’t investigate them, and one of the mages could be to blame, who would find it out?”
Fidelis smiled thinly. “I said mages were tricky, and a pony like you would have a hard time with them,” he said, his voice humorous, but with a darkness edge lurking beneath every word. “But for something like me? I think I can handle them ably.”
The otherwise peaceful atmosphere of the tiny cabin was broken by a sudden slam as Cobblestone burst into the room, muck and sweat dripping from her apprentice’s robes and her teeth bared in a grimace. Her horn lit, flickering as it did so, and the door slammed behind her, ensuring that the black tom on the bed, if he hadn’t awoken at the first percussive opening, was surely awake now. Without preamble, Cobblestone stripped the robes off, tossing them into a corner of the room, where they lay in a heap. Rummaging through her traveling chest, she began to withdraw various articles of clean clothing, throwing them onto the bed to be worn after she cleaned herself.
I take it practice went the same as usual? Hob asked dryly from his position on Cobblestone’s pillow. He winced slightly as a set of winter boots tumbled through the air, bouncing off of the headboard with a muffled clatter, but otherwise didn’t move. Hob’s nostrils flared once, twice, and he sneezed irritably. What in the world are you covered in?
“I don’t bucking know,” Cobblestone said, “But it smells like hot garbage and I need a moment before I have the strength to get it off.”
Perhaps if you had spent less of your magical reserve attempting to splinter the door?
The look Cobblestone gave Hob could have stripped paint. Focusing what little of her magic remained to her, she let a wave of magic wash over her, a band of bluish energy spilling from her horn and spilling around her neck, across her shoulders and chest, and back towards her flank. Streaks of filth and bits of detritus traveled with it, leaving a coat that looked presentable enough, if a bit rank-smelling. The spell vanished into thin air, leaving a small pile of dust on the floor that could be swept up later. Cobblestone had made several such piles.
Frowning at the state of her coat, she contemplated her next move. It occurred to her that a few months ago, she wouldn’t have minded the smell, or even noticed it. But after spending such a long time clean, in more ways than one, she avoided dirt, a thrill of disgust running through her whenever she might get unnecessarily filthy. Not that she shied away from getting dirty when it was needed, of course.
So what was it today? Hob asked from his repose. Juggling weights? Lifting basins of kitchen grease?
“A combination of the two. I held up a basin with weights attached, Serale took glass vials from the basin and put them in a box.”
Did you drop the basin first? Or did she break a vial on you?
“For a Lady who’s just starting out with magic,” Cobblestone growled, closing her trunk, “She’s got a good grasp of how to break things. Get under the bed.”
Hob did as he was advised, having seen what followed more than once since they had left Ponyville. Cobblestone waited for him to hide, and then set her hooves, gritted her teeth, and with a herculean effort, began to siphon magic into the air. She closed her eyes, feeling the currents of the air around her, the particles beginning to rub together, movements that would normally take massive amounts of air and water aided by her will. Clouds began to form above her, and there was a small and quiet rumble of thunder followed by a flickering that cast eerie shadows on the walls.
Feeling the storm reaching its breaking point, Cobblestone released the tension that had been steadily mounting in the air. A small torrent of rain splashed down on her, soaking her quite thoroughly and taking with it the stench which had stubbornly clung to her coat. There was a tiny spark of lightning, and the clouds dissipated, leaving her wet and shivering. With a final effort, Cobblestone called forth a little ball of light and heat, the act of which left her truly drained and ready for a meal or a nap, or both.
“You can come out now,” she said conversationally, steam rising from her coat. “It was only a little shower.”
It’s not the shower that bothers me, Hob said, slinking out from beneath the bed, avoiding the quickly-spreading puddle on the floor, It’s the static that comes with it. Despite how effortless I make it seem, I do work hard to keep myself well-groomed.
Cobblestone wobbled over to her bedside table, breathing a bit heavier than normal, and withdrew a hairbrush, which she began to run through her mane. As she brushed, her shoulders began to slump, and her breathing became a bit deeper. The tangles of her mane began to unravel gently, and she privately resolved to see if she could find oil or something similar to keep it from tangling. Such thoughts helped her keep her mind off of the events of the day.
So, was it really that bad? Hob asked, padding over to her and rubbing up against one leg. I’ve seen you peeved, but today seemed like a particularly stellar example of you throwing a fit.
Cobblestone chewed on her words for a moment, still brushing her hair, before she set down the brush and removed a comb from the drawer. “Serale and I fought today,” she said. “Not a physical one,” she added hastily, “But we were out on the deck, and all the deckhands were watching us practice with Libra, and I got tired of holding the basin up because of those stupid uneven weights.”
She sighed, bone-tiredness mixing with regret, exasperation, and maybe a lingering bit of anger. “I told her to hurry up, she panicked, and I’m sure it was an accident when she broke one of those vials over my head, but it didn’t really feel like it at the time.”
You reacted.
“I tipped the contents of the basin over her head,” Cobblestone said with the barest hint of satisfaction. It flickered and died as she remembered what had happened next. “She claimed I did it on purpose, which I had, and I said she’d done the same. She called me a boor, whatever that means, I called her a priss, and then we started shouting at each other on the deck.”
There was a silence. “She called me a stupid criminal,” Cobblestone said mournfully. “And she made fun of me for not being able to read well.”
Hob leapt to the top of the table, looking at her with his amber eyes, and spoke to her very seriously. I am a solitary creature, but I am given to understand that one of the downsides of fighting with a friend is that they often know very well how to hurt you.
“Well,” Cobblestone replied, “She certainly seems to know how to hurt me.”
And how did you respond?
“I told her that I was twice the magician she was, even if I couldn’t read.” Cobblestone closed her eyes and shuddered. “Then I told her the reason we were going on this trip is because her mother is embarrassed of her and wanted her gone.”
You spoke the truth. Hob said, his tail twitching.
“Maybe,” Cobblestone acknowledged, “But that doesn’t make what I said right.” She scuffed a hoof on the floor. “It was cruel.”
Hob butted her chin gently with the top of his head, and purred contentedly as she reached out to stroke him. The truth often is, mistress. But what is passed has passed. What will you do now?
“What I want to do is crawl in bed for the rest of the evening, skip supper, and forget this ever happened,” Cobblestone groused. She put the comb back in its drawer, quite done with her ministrations. “But what I should do is swallow my pride and talk to her.”
Hob pulled away from her, leaping to the bed, where he settled once more on the pillow. Then, mistress, he said, you had best hurry before she goes for supper. And bring me back some scraps, will you?
“Haven’t you been living off of rats?” Cobblestone teased as she walked to the door. “The crewmembers told me they’ve seen you in hot pursuit of rodents more than once. If you eat much more, you’ll get fat.”
She pulled open the door, only to find herself face to face with Serale, one hoof raised to knock. Serale’s face flushed with faint embarrassment as she lowered both her hoof and her gaze, contemplating the floor with determined interest.
“I came to apologize,” she said quietly. “I…”
“Look,” Cobblestone said. She put a hoof under Serale’s chin, meeting her eyes. “What I said today was stupid and wrong and I didn’t mean a word of it. For somepony new to magic, you’ve come a lot farther than I ever did the first few months I started. And you’re kind of a priss, but that’s okay. And your mother is proud of you, too, I know it and I shouldn’t have said otherwise.”
Serale’s mouth worked in surprise for a moment. She had clearly had a speech memorized on the way down, either to tell her off or to make amends, and it was just as clear it had flown out the window. She closed her mouth whit a click and took a deep breath.
“Just because you didn’t grow up in the palace doesn’t make you a boor, you’re one of the smartest ponies I know, you’re doing really well with your reading, and I actually think some of the criminal things you do are really cool,” she said in a rush, like she was trying to get all the words out at once. “And I should have moved the vials faster today. I’m sorry, I’ve been up reading until late every night this week.”
“And I shouldn’t have tipped the basin on you,” Cobblestone said. “Can…can we just agree we’re both idiots and lay this stupid fight to rest?”
Serale smiled and nodded demurely. “I’d like that,” she said.
“Good,” Cobblestone said, her mouth curling in a relieved grin. She ran a hoof through Serale’s mane, the normally flowing curls tangled and bedraggled. She stepped to one side, opening the door wider. “Come on in,” she said, “Your mane’s a mess. I’ll brush it out.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.023 seconds
Total duration
999 users online
1,387,582 hits today, 2,004,447 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.®
Of course they made up quickly. They're fifteen year old girls, magic or no magic.
6112955 Hooray! (I absolutely love authors who stay in touch with their audience)
Then they went into the room. Cobby brushed Serale's mane. Then they made out on the bed before Libra came in to find out what was taking them so long, catches them making out, and punishes them by summoning a tenticale monster to teach them not to be late for dinner.
6113651
Good things happening to good ponies?
Okay guys go to Defcon 1. Something bad is going to happen.
6114818
Would you believe me if I told you delicious cake was next chapter?
6115290
That depends.
Is the cake poisoned?
Probably.
"Arguments" among friends and potential "arguments" in the ranks. At least the friends one got resolved before it had time to truly fester.
6115646
6115290
Who cares. Cake is cake, so just have an antidote ready and you'll be fine. It's what comes after the cake that we should be worried about. Will they even have enough time to enjoy it before the screaming starts again?
6115290
No changelings allowed in Caddy's kingdom? one may think after so many centuries the prissy alicorn would get over Chryssy crashing her wedding.
I mean, come on! It was only one tiny time
6121930 Only a few, if you go back and re-read it. I'm sure the ones that are allowed into her lands are watched closely, their every movements scrutinized.
Must be great for the tourists...
HUZZAH i finally remembered there was a sequel to stormsinger and just found it downloading to read at work <3
That insult competition seemed for all the world like it was leading up to a kiss. So did the apologies.
Am I bad person?
6115290 I would believe you. But it's probably poisoned.
"I happen too as well" - to?
Vino is obviously a sleeper agent. Not that he knows of course. Must be Aura's little 'gift' to him somehow spying on everyone.
This almost, almost confirms that Cadence is evil or at the very least is working against our heroes.
I mean, who else would/could manipulate their emotions like that?
~Leonzilla
please don't kiss please don't kiss
6442384 Uh, you ever had a high stress week, with high stress activities involved? I know I've torn into some of my best friends in similar situations.