The Blue Rose

by Chicago Ted

Canto VII

First Thorn look’d to the left, then to the right–
What else but sand and air, with water none?
The ground was colored, red along with white,
And date-palms shaded from the harsh sonne.
Celestia made her presence with her light,
Enough to boil liquids, whether dram or tun.
Whatever, Thorn ask’d, was this sealess shore?
“Saddle-Arabia” it was called– naught more!

The library was in the town ahead of the foal.
One thing more was needed in his spell
To enter Tartarus– to make it whole,
And to sound the villain Quivett’s knell.
It seemed to Thorn to be just a casual stroll
Across the sand– it was just as well;
How long would the librarian require
To get what Thorn needed to acquire?

A earthen-built city, Thorn saw, was erected
A bit off from the ship, along the horizonline.
Beams of wood, and walls of dried mud,
Baked hard where the Sun did shine.
The walls were straight, the streets crooked.
The town itself was of a haphazard design.
Market stalls were scattered here to there,
Though, like the town, they were all bare.

A scene he saw, one he saw twice before:
An empty void– ghost-town number three.
He wondered if something was amiss, or
If this was naught but a conspiracy.
Thorn put his hoof on Tânadain once more,
To fight any danger that he might see.
Only Ninlil dared answer Thorn’s dispute,
But not with a fight– but with her flute.

If Thorn could, he would have asked a local–
But, as I said, none were there to greet
Thorn. More and more him this did baffle.
Was it Celestia’s Sun? Was for them the heat
Too great? Otherwise, the plaza would be full.
He turned around the corner, to the next street.
“Look!” said the Blue Rose. “There it lies!”
Such magnificence in front of Thorn’s eyes:

No mud here, but instead a spiraling bergfry
Made of marble, glistening in the sunlight.
Inside? Scrolls and codices abound aplenty!
Twilight Sparkle’s Paradise was this site!
O Twilight, if only this place you could see!–
Such scholarly splendor!– of high might!
Aye, we are now at the Saddle-Arabian library.
Thorn knocked– but the reply was quite wary.

The door opened up, and there stood
A young unicorn filly– an apprentice.
As such, she wore a cloak with a hood
Covering her horn and the grayness
Of her fur. “Young being, you should
Not be here!” she warned with distress.
“Why not?” asked he. “I’ve simply come
To access your archives on this diem.”

“Closed are we!” she then quickly spoke,
Before shutting the door on Thorn’s face.
“What! By Celestia!” he did invoke,
“Why doth she treat me with utter disgrace?”
Then she said through the door of oak,
“’Tis Grogar– the bandit is near this place.
If he finds this, he’ll burn it to the ground,
So go away, I do not want to be found!”

“Grogar? A bandit?” Thorn wondered aloud.
“What if I tell to you that I can bring him
On his knees before a Saddle Arabian crowd?
“Stranger, I don’t want to go out on a limb,”
Said she, “But if that be what you vow’d,
Then may your future be not at all dim.
Hasten now! Surely Grogar cometh now!
Nothing but silence I must only allow!”

Thorn then stood guard, with Tânadain
Ready to fight, whenever Thorn needed it.
Per the apprentice’s word, silent he did remain
As he watched the desert– though he did admit
That Grogar was taking his time in the plain.
What crimes did Grogar plan to commit?
It was a while, but then Thorn remembered
That his hired ship had still not stirred!

Surely that was to be Grogar’s next target!
Thorn rushed back to it at breakneck speed.
The raider’s next move Thorn felt in his gut;
Their motives are ever powered by greed.
Soon Thorn arrived– but already the pirate
Had boarded the yacht, looting it indeed.
“Grogar!” shouted Thorn. “I command thee
To disembark the ship– and face me!”

Grogar’s head then poked out of a porthole–
“Hark!” asked he. “Who now to me calls?”
Then he looked down. “Thou? A mere foal?
Young one, thou hast some great galls
To entangle thyself in my rightful control
O’er this desert! Any of thy brawls
Thou dost propose, I easily shall deflect–
Then the rest of the cargo I shall collect.

“Hussárs!” he cried. “Move forth! Attack!”
Out of another porthole a cloudy swarm flew.
When Thorn saw them, he was taken aback–
Breezie warriors? Whatever can they do?
Small as they are, when together, they lack
Not a great strength. This fact Grogar knew!
Fœs Thorn’s size were barely beatable at all–
Could Tânadain face these, so many, so small?

“Breezies are delicate, no?” said the Blue Rose.
“They easily fall to even the smallest flame!”
With this in mind, Tânadain struck its pose,
Waiting to strike. –Then the Hussárs came!
They surrounded Thorn, lifting him by his tœs.
Tânadain swung, and missed– for shame!
To Thorn, the Hussárs were naught but mist–
He could barely see– if only one could assist!

But this battle was his own, and his own only–
Instead of remaining, he lept off and bit forth
With Tânadain– it sizzled, ever so slightly–
He attacked a second time, a third, a fourth,
Dividing the cloud around him so broadly.
Burnt Hussárs fell into the sand thenceforth.
But more were elusive, dodging his swing–
But they were not the only ones with a wing:

One roundabout swing brought Thorn on high.
The same swing brought him back to low!
The cloud was parted, but the end wasn’t nigh.
They reattached, reclumped– like loose snow.
Tânadain lashed back out, intending to fry,
To no avail– past like the wind they did blow.
Whichever way Thorn faced, they were behind,
Remaining in the spot where he was blind.

Small as they were, they stung like bees;
Thorn can tell of this agonizing experience.
The pain was so great, Thorn was on his knees,
Before the ship, giving Grogar assurance
That he may, with impunity, go and seize
Whatever cargo he may without hinderance.
Tânadain, though, was a rabid watchdog,
Snarling and biting with fiery teeth at the fog.

It was despite this gripe that back up Thorn
Leapt, and anew Tânadain’s heat did blossom.
He realized that a fog was not meant to be torn
By brute strength, nor anything like that item.
Instead, after that fight left him so war-worn,
He held out Tânadain, and gestured to come.
The Hussárs went around, avoiding the bait–
But Thorn nudged left– for them, too late!

The whole swarm of Hussárs was slain.
Now for the larger issue: to beat back Grogar!
“Come forth, Grogar!” Thorn shouted again.
“I’ve faced and have defeated your Hussár-
Swarm! Now you! Ignore me not in vain!”
Silence from the ship. “That, villain, is by far
The most arrogant response returned to me!
Coward, come and fight– ’tis me and thee!”

Upon this high insult did Grogar burst out
Of the ship, with two swords in his force!
“Your outlandish chivalry loses this bout!”
Said Grogar. “For you see, here in at the source,
Those who know what lawlessness is about
Are ever-victorious! The world’s a cruel course,
Where the strong live and the weak perish;
This you may do so yourself, if you wish.”

Grogar’s swords then clashed with Tânadain.
“What you say may be true,” Thorn conceded,
“However, life needn’t all be naught but pain:
Allies rise and fall, whenever this be needed.
Defend them like brothers, and you shall attain
Victory, for they too shall have interceded!
Now have at ye!” –Thorn rushed forthward,
And Tânadain’s flaming jaws snapped forward.

Ah, but Grogar was a bit mæ clever than this.
He stepped aside, and Thorn hit only sand.
Then he noticed what sword he did miss–
’Twas Tânadain, the greatest blade in the land!
“Gurun’s sword, used by a pony? That’s amiss!
How did you steal that from the dragon-band?”
“Simple,” said he. “I am one of them now!
You’re mistaken if you think there was a row!”

Thorn charged forth, and locked swords again.
Grogar fended back with only one blade,
“Be that so?” Grogar inquired. “Pray, when?
As a pony, you should have been afraid!”
With his other sword, Grogar right then
Nearly made his sudden victory made.
However, it merely grazed by Thorn’s mane–
But, Thorn decided Grogar’s victory to feign.

He collapsed to the ground, and the sword
Tânadain went out, so as to play along.
“At last!” said Grogar. “He falls to the lord!”
To the ship, “Your cargo now does belong
To me! Everything you have, offboard!
Thorn’s dead!” “That’s where you’re wrong!”
Thorn leapt back up, and Tânadain reignited,
And Grogar faced a fate for him that abided.

Tânadain then carried the colt high aloft,
Then dove like a hawk, onto Grogar’s back.
“Alright, Grogar,” said he, “I won’t be so soft.
Good trumps evil!” And with one swift whack,
Grogar’s horns from his head were torn off!
Thorn then slipped them into his sack.
Grogar turned and ran, having been beaten,
Tânadain was sheathed, no more action.

“Thorn!” said the captain. “Such braveness!
Thank you for saving this gryphon-clan!”
“No longer shall I require your service!”
Shouted Thorn. “Set your course for new fan!”
The ship lifted up, and by its compass,
Turned to Gryphonstone, according to plan.
That settled, Thorn returned to the town,
To announce victory, and lift the lockdown.

The town looked the same as was before,
Which was good news– Grogar was alone.
One villager saw who had come ashore,
Then went back in– Thorn was unknown
To him. Thorn, though, was not sure
Why they were still scared to the bone.
It mattered not! –The library stood waiting,
Under Celestia’s Sun so bright and blinding.

Thorn knocked, and the apprentice answered.
“Hail!” said he. “Look at what I bring!
These are Grogar’s horns. You’ven’t misheard;
I have slain the long-terrorizing bandit-king.
Now then, after I have spoken my word,
Shall you open the library?” he was asking.
“I shall,” replied she. “Please, come inside!”
With the danger ceased, the door opened wide.

“We host the collections of every major mind–
From Haycartes to Zamenhoof, and all betwixt!
Just state what you want, and I’ll go find
Exactly what you need– even if it be mix’d
In some giant mess!” “Well, that is kind,”
Replied Thorn. “But my thoughts are fix’d:
The dragons say that you have a certain spell
That, whenever cast, opens Tartarus’ well.”

“Ah! Yes!” came her reply. “I know the one!”
In her aura, the bookshelves then came alive:
Scrolls and codices were shuffled in the action,
Haphazardly, and yet as well like any beehive.
She then came across a scroll titled in Latin:
“Jánós Ignis Aperí”– three words were five:
“Open the Gates of Fire”. “I have found it!”
Announced she. “This scroll here shall fit!”

“I do thank thee,” a grateful Thorn said.
“But, pray tell, what art thou named?”
However, the apprentice replied instead:
“With such an inquiring mind you are framed!
’Tis wise, also, to be just as well-read.
(Ishtar’s patronage is not to be shamed!)
But, if you do insist, my name is Kealm.
Thank you for visiting this literate realm!”

As Thorn stepped back outside into the village,
The Blue Rose spoke up to congratulate him:
“At last, Thorn! Few had had the courage
Like you to face so many fates so grim,
Fighting forth so oft, and all to salvage
Puzzle-pieces, even when chances be slim!
Come now, let us finally solve this enigma
From what is detailed in the dragons’ quota!”

The saddlebag was opened, and contents spilled
Out onto the sand. First came the Gatekey,
Laid out flat. Next the Janus stones, instilled
Into the Tartarus-Gatekey– one, two, three,
Four, five on the outside. And a sixth filled
The center. The jar, placed near, became antsy.
With the arrangement perfected before the foal,
Thorn read the spell aloud from the scroll:

“I say unto you, Tartarus:
‘Form the Gate, the Ring, Inferno!’
O Celestia, be my Ægis.
Bring me now from High to down Low!”
With words echoing, Tartarus responded thus:
The lightning-jar broke, and Adad did bellow.
The sky darkened, freed of Celestia’s light,
While the ground under Thorn grew bright.

Then a circle of fire surrounded the colt,
As Tartarus’s arms came to retrieve Thorn.
From the sky came a red lightning-bolt!
It struck the Gatekey, and the sand was torn.
The Janus stones lit up from the jolt,
And the ground opened up beneath Thorn.
As the underworld responded to his spell,
Into the bowels of Tartarus Thorn fell!