• Published 29th Mar 2015
  • 8,143 Views, 421 Comments

The Tempest - Carabas



Upon Discord's release, the leaders of other nations must unite to curb the threat he poses.

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At Least Their Absence Can Sometimes Bring Others Closer Together.

In the long instant of teleportation that followed, Burro tasted the sound of a saw cutting wood, heard fuchsia, and saw flashes of cloying sweetness interspersed with splatters of jolts from an electric prod. His unconscious mind screamed all the while, and his conscious mind was quite inclined to go along with it.

Then clarity, sweet as pelting sea air and as shocking as a kick to the danglies. Discord’s grip around his middle vanished, and Burro tumbled in freefall. Given air at last, he opened his mouth to release a pent-up yell.

“Aa - unk!” emerged when he abruptly greeted a solid surface face-first. Burro rolled onto his side, blinking away stars, spitting away the taste of pennies from his bitten-on tongue, and trying to make sense of the pinkish-blue-white haze all around him. A groan sounded at his side, and he recognised the great white form of Celestia.

Burro shook his head and blinked. His vision cleared, and the open sky greeted it. An expanse of blue, marbled with white clouds. A high and cold breeze cut across his back, and he shivered. He looked down, and immediately regretted it. A vertigo-inducing distance down, there sprawled a pastoral landscape of gently rolling hills and ant-sized villages, currently rocking as if in the grip of the tide. By a ridge of mountains, a great white city ambled around on stubby white legs, its footfalls like distant thunder. It carefully skirted any small villages, all the while grumbling to itself about these flimsy modern steadings.

“Canterlot?” muttered Burro, rising to his hooves as he regarded the city and tried not to throw up. No respectable donkey, barring aeronauts of course, had any business rising higher than a lookout point. “Equestria?”

“Ucchk,” came from beside him. He turned to see Princess Celestia, her mouth restored, rising to her hooves with some difficulty and blinking drowsiness from her eyes. She glanced from side to side, and her mouth set in a hard line. She jabbed at the air in front of her with a hoof, and the world shimmered pink around them. Burro peered closer, and saw it was made of thin intersecting lines. He glanced down, and saw the same grid pattern running under their hooves.

A cage in the sky. The pink lines began to fade away, absent any impact. The sun overhead casually rotated on its axis, blithely whistling.

Burro realised his mouth was still open and drooling a little blood. He closed it, swallowed, and tried to cast his mind away from its immediate environment and back towards recent events.

“What?” he managed.

“Hmm,” muttered Celestia. “Not promising. He wouldn’t do this unless ...” Her voice trailed off, and a sudden flash of light filled the air between her horn and the cage surface. It thundered off to no avail, apart from briefly making the cage light up again. A kick from her forehoof followed, and the unmarred cage shimmered. She gazed around, examining the wide extent of the shimmer with a clinical regard. “We’re trapped. Unless there’s some way to break this. Not that I’ve had much luck in the past trying to match his sort of magic directly.”

“What?”

“There’s invariably a loophole. If we simply go around ...” Celestia focused, gathered magic, and was surrounded by another flash of light. The cage grid blazed vivid, and the flash faded away. Celestia was left where she’d been standing, and staggered for a moment before regaining her composure. “Ah. No teleporting out, it seems.”

“Celestia, listen to me. What?”

Celestia breathed out and turned to Burro, as if only now registering his existence. “We have been trapped by Discord, Burro.”

“I’d gathered!” The air was bitterly cold, his tongue ached, his city had just been subject to forces most likely beyond description, and it had been at least an hour since his last cup of coffee. If there was a more justifiable time for snappishness, Burro couldn’t conceive of it. “Perhaps there’s some important background to all this I ought to be privy to!”

“There is, Burro. Time and the need for discretion have prevented me from telling you before,” said Celestia, now the very picture of calm and composed dispassion. “I ask for clemency, and for a few more minutes before I delve into the details.”

The aggravation boiling in Burro settled down to a low simmer. “Why a few minutes?”

“Because I strongly suspect that we’re going to receive more company in short order. And I suspect the same details won’t be any more palatable for constant repetition.”

On cue, a sharp crack sounded and a broad slash suddenly opened in the air next to them, multicoloured flames rippling around its edges. It widened, and a griffon suddenly came tumbling through it with a discombobulated squawk. The slash slammed shut and winked out of existence as abruptly as it had appeared.

“Gellert!” said Burro, starting forwards. The griffon sprackled on the ground before pushing himself up with his powerful front claws. Chieftain Gellert of the Fivecrags Tribe - and suzerain through vassalage of nearly every other griffon tribe on Ungula - gathered himself, brushed his rumpled feathers down, and greeted Burro with a weary grin.

“Burro, you old bag of bones, it’s been a fair while,” croaked Gellert. He took in the surroundings, brow-feathers furrowing, and said, “I shan’t lie, under the circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded it being a somewhat longer while. What just kidnapped me?”

“Excellent question! I have no idea.” Burro gestured at Celestia. “A full account of sorts has been promised. By certain parties who are apparently completely in the know.”

Gellert stared up at Celestia, who nodded down at him. “Chieftain Gellert. I recklessly assume I find you well.”

“Princess Celestia,” replied Gellert. “Under the circumstances, I’m sure you’ll understand if we omit the pleasantries and skip straight to the colourful blasphemy. What in the name of the Simurgh’s saggy paps was I just -?”

“A spirit of chaos and disharmony known as Discord, unwittingly unsealed from captivity,” said Celestia. “The fuller explanation may have to -”

“Wait? Depths take it, Celestia, your two closest allies are here,” said Burro. “Let us know anything crucial or necessarily discreet now, before anyone - or anything - of a less benevolent disposition shows up.”

As he said it, there came another loud crack through the air, and Burro turned to see another portal opening, from which feathers and a choir of aggrieved squawking issued. The sinuous shape of Discord appeared first, its hand and claw pulling on some circular object. A magical aura surrounded the object, which twinkled under the sunlight. Burro’s heart sank.

“Listen,” said Discord to some unseen creature on the other side of the portal, “You’re being very inconvenient about this and I think I’m being exceptionally patient, so if you could just put the crown down now -”

“No!” wailed the unseen creature, whose head became visible past the portal’s edge - a female ibex whose servant’s livery was covered in loose feathers, a magical aura around her horns seething with effort and her hooves digging into the ground even as she was pulled along, inch by inch. “Put the Unfettered Highness down! Please!”

“You could do very well to listen to the menial, interloper,” rasped a voice from the crown’s depths, the tone of it incongruously bright and cheery. “Did you know that each second you maintain an unpermitted hold on me adds another hour to the time between now and your death? I employ some very capable caprids who have got that down to a fine art. A science, even.”

“Yes, yes, that’s adorable. Do shush,” muttered Discord, who grunted and yanked sharply on the Crown. The ibex tumbled into the cage with a terrified squeak, and Discord tossed the crown to one side. It clattered upside-down on the cage’s floor, to be left ignored while Discord rounded on the ibex.

“Honestly. This was an exclusive affair I’d planned. But if you’re going to insist on gatecrashing, I suppose you’ll just have to fit in. Does Antlertis still exist? No matter. Hear ye, hear ye, I do proclaimeth What’shername to be the new Queen of Antlertis, long may she reign over the earth entire and all that tosh. There. Are you happy? Now go play with the others.” Discord stalked off through the portal, which vanished behind him.

Celestia, Burro, and Gellert all turned to the crown on the floor and to the wide-eyed ibex, who met their gazes fleetingly and then made a valiant attempt to hide in open air. They were interrupted by a cough from the crown, the jewels covering its sides gleaming red for an instant.

“So tell me, menial,” said the Capricious Crown of Capra, “How long are you planning to leave me like this?”

The ibex paled with terror and hurried over to pick the Crown up within a magical grasp, holding it upright at a safe distance before her as if handling an irritable scorpion or alchemical explosives. Burro looked to the Crown. He felt its own attention fall across each one of them, like cold water trickling down his spine, as pale blue jewels around its rim glittered.

“My word, the whole gang’s on its way,” remarked Gellert. “At least this Discord doesn’t seem to be discriminating on the basis of species. Or allegiances. Or sanity.”

“How lovely to see you too, my fellow sovereigns. What a pleasant day for an unexpected meeting.” The Crown’s voice had lost its brightness, and was now a mere flat rasp. “But I can’t help the impression that there’s some minor notes of context I’m missing. Such as, what in the Blackness Beyond was that thing? Why have I been brought here? Why have you been brought here? Is there some entity or entities behind all this in dire need of a throat-slitting?”

“That thing was Discord,” replied Celestia calmly. “A powerful and ancient spirit of chaos, beyond our immediate means to fight. I promise a full account once he’s finished collecting us and will be less likely to intrude.”

The Crown’s attention seemed to fall upon Celestia, and then withdraw in what passed for chary silence. “Goody. Full accounts. I do so enjoy those in due course. Superb for whiling away captivity. By ‘us’, I take it you refer to each sovereign on the continent?”

“Yes.” Celestia looked to one side, past the fading suggestion of the cage bars and to the open sky. Her expression ever-so-slightly darkened. “And maybe beyond.”

“Spirit of chaos, spirit of chaos,” mused Burro. “I suppose it makes sense to target us, then. No need for any leadership anywhere, if simple anarchy is your objective.”

“We could be something like a stabilising influence, if regarded with a charitable squint,” said Gellert. “Or at least, he wouldn’t want our particular blend of disharmony mucking up his own. Good thinking, that Discord.”

“Yes, a great thinker. Masterful tactician. Clearly, turning Bellbylon into a flock of budgerigars was some move in a game beyond our feeble understanding,” said the Crown. Behind it, the ibex suppressed a sneeze and tried to discreetly wipe a feather off her snout. “The creature’s motives are plain. I find his means rather more interesting. Indeed, I find it fascinating that he was able to capture and contain dear Celestia.”

“Regrettably, dear Crown, none of us are invincible.” Celestia didn’t turn to speak, her gaze still somewhere past the sky. “Even if we come close to it, in practical terms.”

Celestia’s expression then softened, and she turned her gaze towards the ibex. “I’m exceedingly sorry you were pulled into this mess, my dear. All of us here will try to solve it as soon as possible. May I ask you your name?”

The ibex’s mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before she mustered a reaction. “I … ah, Your Grace, I am ...”

“Unimportant,” said the Crown. The ibex fell silent. “Spare us your manipulations and coy wee ingratiations, Celestia. For whatever follows, at least.”

The silence that descended then lasted only for a moment, before another sharp crack and flourish of light ended it. The portal opened, and out from it tumbled a massive quantity of dirt, spraying with abandon across every corner of the sky cage. Burro and Gellert cursed and recoiled, the ibex hopped back and positioned herself between the dirt and the Crown. Celestia stood still, and any splatters that hit her vanished in a flash of golden smoke.

The portal vanished, and at the centre of the dirt pile, a large, dark figure writhed and turned the air blue with archaic blasphemy. A large pickaxe glinted in its grasp, and Burro found his attention drawn to it as it whirled in the air.

“...Dwellers Below encoil thee in their squamous grasp and indulge their ardour in unseemly ways!” blazed the figure, mud streaming off his shaggy coat. “Vánagandr assail thy nethers with a pointy stick until th’art sorry! Firedamp fill thy lungs and -!”

“Lord Alpha!” said Celestia. “Lord Alpha Rex! He’s not here any longer. Command yourself.”

Burro’s ears pricked up as he recognised the looming figure as a Diamond Dog. He’d exchanged correspondence, but had never personally met their leader - or at least, the first among equals from those who ruled each of the great Diamond Dog underholds. His attendance at the irregular conferences in the Circle Chamber had left something to be desired. Burro had put it down to simple reclusiveness, and not wanting to be embroiled in wider affairs.

Given the circumstances, Burro couldn’t much blame him.

Rex, Lord Alpha of the ancient underhold of Beryllium, settled. Mud continued to drip off his shaggy black coat and sturdy waistcoat, only a few embroidered gems here and there betraying his rank. His cold blue eyes radiated malice.

“There I was,” Rex snarled, gesticulating with the pick-axe, his guttural voice inflected with High Canine. “There I was, sounding out a new channel with a team of Dig Dogs. Fine new fat seams of copper, zinc, and mithril, gleaming away. A decade’s worth in them. Easily! Ask me what transpired!”

In the brief battle of glances between those present in possession of eyes, the ibex servant lost. She ventured, ”What transpired, Your Gra-?”

“The mithril turned into kittens! Hast thou ever tried to mine kittens? They just splatter everywhere and their kin attempt to claw at thine eyes! Doth thou call that ideal mining conditions? I bloody well do not!”

The ibex started to mumble that she’d both never tried to mine kittens nor did she consider that their presence would assist the mining experience, and was overwhelmed by another tide of invective from Rex.

“And then what should add itself to the list of woes but this accursed chimeric thing rising from a sundered kitten and informing me that I was required here and that my opinion on such a matter was perfectly free and good but would not actually affect a damned thing! We checked the thaumic signatures before beginning the delve! It couldn’t have been a Dweller Below or any such eldritch thing! What was it?”

“A spirit of chaos, known as Discord,” said Celestia calmly, a sudden dam against the ranting tide. Rex fell silent, and his eyes narrowed as the pick-axe fell to his side. Celestia continued, “He has been released, and is intent on bringing all who rule to this place. I am sorry he forced your involvement, Lord Alpha. If it’s any consolation, none of us have received any gentler treatment.”

Rex’s posture relaxed then, and the fire in his expression diminished. “Queer sort of consolation, but I shall accept it. For the time being. Dost thou vouch for the trustworthiness of those here unknown to me, Princess Celestia?”

“All those present share a common predicament, Lord Alpha. Collaboration and mutual amity will be required of us all,” replied Celestia. Burro observed that no direct answer to the question had featured in the answer, and mentally thanked the Depths that he’d never have to run against her in Parliament.

Rex grunted and sat down at one side of the cage, his paws experimentally tapping at the floor. A moment’s hush passed before he said, “So, who else is yet to -?”

“The Tyrant of Ovarn. Bullwalda Greenhorn of Bovaland. The Fire Queen.” Gellert scratched his head. “Has a new Cormaer arisen in Corva? They might get roped in as well.”

“Yes,” Burro said grimly. “Received word just a few days ago. At least that particular problem’s been overshadowed for the moment.”

“Queer consolation,” grunted Rex.

The Crown deigned not to comment, beyond a few of its jewels briefly glittering golden.

The air stirred then, and the portal reopened with a sound like a drawn-out yawn. Burro turned his attention to it, praying for someone sane and helpful. The Tyrant, with any luck.

Sometimes, providence delivered. A diminutive elderly ewe wearing pince-nez spectacles and dark velvet robes trotted primly through the opening, paused upon seeing them all, and didn’t show any reaction as the portal at her back slid shut with a prolonged satisfied groan.

Tyrant Fairy Floss of Ovarn cast a critical gaze over each member of the company. “Princess Celestia. Arch-Minister Burro Delver. Chieftain Gellert. Lord Alpha … Rex, I do believe. Crown. Crown’s servant, I presume. I’d express sentiments to the effect of what a lovely surprise this is, but I’ve spent a few decades too long in the game for that to be sincere.”

“Likewise, Fairy Floss,” said Celestia, nodding her head. “May I enquire after your own off-kilter circumstances?”

“Well, since you ask, dear, all the statues in my palace became animated and very much alive not ten minutes ago. Along with all the mosaics, tapestries, frescoes, and associated decorations. That sufficiently loosened my suspension of disbelief for when the city walls and towers turned upside-down and fell up towards the sky, which itself had started singing indecent albeit accurate limericks about my past personal life.” Fairy Floss’s gaze sharpened over the top of her spectacles. “Can I infer everyone else here has experienced something of a similar nature?”

“Broadly, yes. I got ship-krakens,” said Burro.

“Mithril into kittens,” grumbled Rex. “How is one to work with kittens?”

“Bloodily, I imagine, dear. Regardless, I then did the sensible thing and sent telegrams to the thirteen Archons, ordering the imposition of martial law in their cities and to mobilise their deme’s phalanxes until the crisis was resolved.” The Tyrant took a steadying breath. “Whereupon my telegrams turned into butterflies in mid-air and began systematically swallowing surprised members of the Black Company. So you can imagine I was somewhat out of sorts when some creature calling himself Discord materialised in my office and promised answers on the other side of a portal.”

“And you took him up on that?” Gellert’s head was cocked to one side.

“Not until after some token hoof-pointing and some blood-curdling threats were issued, of course. But when one is alone in one’s office with an omnipotent assailant and one’s personal guard are preoccupied trying to kick themselves free from the stomachs of butterflies, there’s really only one sensible option. Regardless, I would rather like some answers. Celestia, I hope you’re not too offended if I choose to stare hard at you at this juncture.”

“No offense taken. I do know more about this situation than others here.” Celestia sighed and shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, drawing Burro’s attention to the packed saddle-bags on her back. “I beg a reprieve until everyone’s here, though. I’ll rather start explaining once Discord’s less likely to jump in and interfere.”

“Hmm. Granted, then.” Fairy Floss lay down, her motions deliberate and trembling, and tried to make herself comfortable on the cage floor. “But I do hope the others do arrive soon. Else, I may start pressing -”

Desecrator!”

The portal announced itself with a shout of fire and a burst of mad cackling, and a huge figure trailing smoke came skidding out from it. Burro recognised the form of a huge bull - an aurochs in heavy metal barding - before magic suddenly flared around the bull’s horns and teleported him straight to a standing position, his armour clattering all the while. He rose, steadied, and pawed at the ground, steam blasting from his nostrils.

The Bullwalda of Bovaland didn’t seem on his best form. The young aurochs' decorated barding was battered and scorched, and his quivering muscled sides and red eyes betrayed recent exertion. His unblinking attention was fixed on Discord, standing in the portal’s opening, clothed in a toreador’s outfit and waving a red cloth.

“‘Toro’ is the phrase, isn’t it?” said Discord innocently.

You!” snarled Bullwalda Greenhorn.

“Me!”

“The bones of my ancestors cavort through the streets of Cromlech Taur! The dead disturbed! Desecrated! You named yourself responsible!”

“The skeleton of your dearly-departed great-grandfather showing your great-great-great uncle’s skeleton a good time may be a thing I bear some degree of responsibility for,” said Discord. “And I think I deserve a round of thanks for -”

“Stand and face me!” Greenhorn’s red eyes bulged, so far that Burro felt they might pop right out from between the slits of his visor. He broke into a trot, then a canter, and then a full-blown charge straight at Discord, gathering speed with all the stately unstoppability of a locomotive.

Discord remained still. Then, as as the bellowing Greenhorn was about to descend upon him, he snapped his claws. The floor beneath Greenhorn’s hooves turned into another portal, and Greenhorn fell with a cry of “AAAAAaaaaaa...”

The cry diminished for a few seconds, and then Discord snapped the claws on his other hand. Another portal opened in the cage’s top, parallel to the bottom one, and Greenhorn descended from one into the other. “...aaaaaaAAAAAaaaaaa...”

“Well? I’m standing, as asked,” said Discord, his arms outspread as Greenhorn’s falling form swept past once again. “Honestly, some creatures ask you for things, and then just don’t account for themselves. Rude, I call it. Rude.”

“Enough, Discord.” The cold voice was Celestia’s, and she stepped past Burro to stare down Discord. “You have made your point. You don’t need to wallow in it.”

“Don’t I?”

“...aaaaaaAAAAAaaaaaa...”

At his left, Burro felt Gellert tense and flex his wings. “Don’t mind me, old boy,” the griffon muttered. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to calculate this sort of timing. Can’t let the daft lad fall forever.”

“Be careful,” whispered Burro. “Being hit by the better part of a ton of armoured aurochs seems like something best avoided.”

“Celestia’s distracted, and the ibex’ll catch hell if she drops the Crown. Who else will?” Gellert grinned. “I’ll be alright.”

To their front, Discord and Celestia were all but muzzle-to-muzzle. “Celestia, Celestia, Celestia,” said Discord, “Who are you to stop me wallowing now? I can indulge fully. I can … well. I can do whatever. I. Want.”

Celestia looked to the falling Greenhorn. And then back to Discord, unflinching. “And this especially pleases you, does it?”

Discord seemed to consider the question, and shrugged. “Not particularly. But look at the expression on his face!” Two claws bent to form a circle, and a small image of Greenhorn’s face mid-fall appeared in it, spittle flying. “Look at those cheeks wobble!”

Celestia’s expression remained unmoving. “The Discord I knew and fought was a great many things. Callous. Unthinking. Directionless,” she said. “But sadistic was never amongst them.”

Gellert lunged in that instant, just as Greenhorn fell from the top portal with a heralding cry of “...aaaaaaAAA-” The griffon’s bulk slammed into Greenhorn’s armoured form in the air, sending the two tumbling off to the cage’s side in a cursing, flapping, lowing heap.

Discord quickly turned from Celestia to regard them with a crooked smile, shaking his head and holding up a finger. “Tsk. Spoilsports, all of you. Without exception.” He turned back to Celestia, his expression betraying nothing, before another portal opened behind him. “I’ll be back. With yet more of your friends.”

He stepped back and vanished with the sound of a blown raspberry. Celestia’s form slumped, and she bit back a sigh as she stalked over to Gellert and Greenhorn’s slumped forms.

“Out cold. Must have landed head-first,” said Gellert, motioning at Greenhorn’s still and faintly groaning form. He pushed himself upright with some difficulty. “I’ll expect tea and possibly cake for my heroic action there, of course. And even a medal.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Celestia, leaning and inspecting Greenhorn briefly before rising again. “We’ll leave him in peace for now. Even my healing magics sometimes fail to beat an old-fashioned rest.”

“And it defers your ‘Discord, chaos spirit, explain later’ spiel, of course,” said the Crown.

Celestia didn’t respond, insteading trotting to the other side of the cage to regard the sky once more. “A little more time,” she muttered. “Just a little more.”

“A little more time for what, precisely?” said Fairy Floss. Past her, Rex had opted to disregard proceedings in favour of experimentally tapping at the cage side with his pick-axe. After a few initial swipes had availed nothing, he drew out a few oddly-glistening pebbles from a pocket and placed them on the floor, watching them with a hawkish expression.

“A little more time until I can act in confidence. And explain matters as well. Time has cultivated my ability to multi-task, if nothing else.”

Rex brought his pick-axe down on the pebbles with a sudden bark, connecting with a flash of light and small peal of thunder that did an admirable job of temporarily blinding and deafening Burro. The old donkey blinked and shook away the latest assault on his senses, and found the Diamond Dog critically regarding the patch of floor where the pebbles had sat.

“Unmarred,” said Rex approvingly, before his face fell into a scowl. “And likely unbreachable. If I possessed more firestone, or perhaps some corvid black powder, then it could be surmountable.”

“Hold that thought,” said Gellert, as another slash of light appeared in the air. “If the next one in is the Cormaer, you might just get what you wish for.”

The portal opened, and a black, feathered shape was flung through as if released from a slingshot. Burro started and then peered closer - it was a raven, if he was any judge. It righted itself in the air with a mad flourish of its wings and dove straight at the portal with a rattling, furious caw.

Discord’s laughter sounded in the instant before the portal closed, and the raven flew through empty air, barely correcting itself in time to avoid bouncing off the opposite wall. It alighted on the ground, body seething with agitation, and then let out one last hiss before turning suddenly to the others.

Burro had rarely encountered a corvid. Asincittà had its properly cosmopolitan share of the species, but at a definite - and in his view, rightfully - minority. The raven stood upright on two thin, lean claws, fixing each of them with a cold, black regard. Wings at its powerful body’s side could have spread into a wingspan rivalling Gellert’s own. Sharpened steel sheaths covered its claws and a thin plaid sash was draped tightly around its body.

The Cormaer of Corva’s beak seemed to tighten at the edges of the flesh, as if in mockery of a smile. “Guid to ken confusion loves company,” she said - for past the rasping, nigh-indecipherable burr, the voice was female. “Ye’ve all been similarly kidnapped?”

Burro noticed Celestia’s expression darken imperceptibly, saw Gellert and Fairy Floss tense, saw the Crown’s jewels lighten with interest, and saw Rex and the ibex simply looking confused. Appointing himself the group’s diplomat in that moment, he stepped forward. “Yes. With varying degrees of sense in the world before said kidnapping in each case. This Discord’s apparently set on imprisoning each leader on the continent. You’re the new Cormaer, I take it?”

The Cormaer’s smile sharpened. “Aye. Ye take it right. And I think I ken ye. The Asinial high heid yin?”

Burro hesitated. “Yes, I think.”

“Affa dab. And tae yer rear, we’ve got … the Ovarn Tyrant. The griffon laird. The Capric’s crown and some flunkey.” Her smile somehow managed to sharpen further upon seeing the slumped form of Greenhorn. “Och, the wee kye king’s not fared tae well. Pity, that. And lastly ...” She looked up, and yet further up, to meet Celestia’s gaze. “Cuddy queen.”

Celestia nodded, her jaw’s lines set.

“Well then.” The Cormaer continued to meet Celestia’s gaze. “Whit lofty company. Pleased tae introduce myself. For my part, by right of ability and conquest, the Eighth Cormaer.”

“I am aware,” said Celestia. “I killed the Seventh.”

The Cormaer’s smile fell then, but was quick to reassert itself. “Tae yer credit. A hundred years since, aye? We’ll dae better next time.”

“Will you now.” Celestia’s voice was as cold and unyielding as an avalanche. “For my part, I would advise peaceful diplomatic overtures, Cormaer. Choose your approach, and you will find us willing to respond in kind.”

The Cormaer’s black feathers bristled and her dark eyes narrowed. “If ye respond,” she growled. “There’s mony a debt that collects, cuddy.”

Further reasonable diplomatic discourse was drowned out by the sound of another portal opening. And a great deal of deafening roaring.

Burro recoiled away from the newly-opened portal in the air, his ear drums all but shrieking at the sheer volume coming from it - as if a volcano was making its displeasure known at point-blank distance. He was vaguely aware of the others falling back alongside him, as well as of Discord emerging from the portal’s opening, heaving something massive and red over his shoulder. Something like the bladed end of a dragon’s tail, hued red and embedded over with glittering gold coins, larger than a respectable building.

Burro’s gut turned cartwheels in him as he realised who Discord was bringing to the meeting.

“Not the Fire Queen!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, and barely registering himself past the sheer din. “This is not that big a cage! This is not that big a cage!”

“If the naysayers could stop harping at the draconequus in the arena,” snapped Discord, heaving on the colossal tail. From behind him, a tide of coins and jewels flowed, followed by a billowing, forge-like heat. The roar resumed with greater force, and Burro all but felt his ear drums whimper, curl up in a corner, and beg for death.

Discord glared up at the cage ceiling, seemed to mutter something under his breath, and looked back at the Fire Queen’s larger form behind him - Burro gauged her to be on a scale comparable with Asincittà itself. Discord threw up his arms, snapped, “Oh, for goodness sake!” and dropped the thrashing tail to the cage floor. He marched back through the portal while Burro and the others desperately shimmied back to avoid the tail’s motions.

The tail shivered. Then it rapidly withdrew back through the portal, seeming to shrink as it went.

The roaring vanished as well, and Burro almost collapsed with the sheer comparable euphoric bliss of quiet hitting his ears then. All other considerations went clean out the window.

A moment later, Discord’s claw shot back through the portal, holding a small red figure, and dropped it on the cage floor. The portal closed, and Burro and the others were left staring at the Fire Queen.

A tiny red dragon whelp with huge reptilian eyes and little vestigial wings stared up at them, and then down at herself. “What in Stygia is this?” she hissed.

“Och,” said the Cormaer, beating the rest to the punch, “She’s adorable.”

The Fire Queen boggled up at the Cormaer, small flames lapping along the length of her little forked tongue. She then looked to each other member of the company, her eyes widening all the while.

What in Stygia is all of this?”

“A kidnapping, by a spirit of chaos long-hoped to be sealed,” said Celestia quickly. “Old as you are, I’m sure you recall what I speak of.”

The Fire Queen paused. “I do,” she said. Her tone lowered. “I certainly do. Why be coy around the others, though?”

“Because I’ve yet to give an explanation to them, and waited before I’d have to repeat myself over and over,” said Celestia.

“The gang’s all here, everyone from Ungula worth mentioning,” said the Crown. “Stop dithering and tell us what’s happening so we can contrive something so arcane as a solution.”

The look Celestia gave the Crown was as briefly frosty as a winter wind, but she sighed and took a breath regardless. She sank to a lying position, levitating the saddlebag off her back as she did so. “Assail me with questions,” said Celestia. “Pardon me if I work on other things as we speak.”

“I’ll take first crack at that, if you don’t mind,” said Fairy Floss. “Firstly, what is that creature, Discord? Where did he come from, and what are his -?”

At one side of the cage, there was the sound of the portal opening. Celestia rose in an eye’s blink, slinging the saddlebag back onto her back. “Later,” she hissed at Fairy Floss and the others. “Later.”

“You didn’t think I was finished, did you?” came the sing-song tones of Discord. “There are other continents out there. And so much space in this cage to fill.”