Chapter XXVI: Dreamchaser Stargazer
Chapter XXVI: Dreamchaser Stargazer
* * * * * *
All the townsfolk, they are fast asleep
chasing memories or just counting sheep
but I don't need it. I don't think so. I'm not crazy. I don't think so
Though she'll never get to dream
who needs all that forgetting
there's a tapestry of stars
look how thankless they are
These eyes these eyes
so heavy heavy heavy
make time make time
I'm ready ready ready
All the townsfolk, they say rise and shine
chasing daylight or just killing time
Is it secret? I don't think so. Am I selfish? I don't think so.
— “40 Winks,” by Griffinilla and SoGreatandPowerful
* * * * * *
He saw the forms shining in the shadows. Ideals in the darkness.
A red-haired woman was kneeling in a cave, in pitch blackness. He could barely see her at all, but from her hand he saw a spark. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes she was gone, but deep inside that pit the spark remained, growing and growing until it nearly blinded him. He struggled to continue looking at it, as the darkness was banished away.
It begins here, he thought. It was difficult to keep his thoughts in place while he was in the middle of a vision, but he had to try nonetheless. Spiritually, if not chronologically, everything I know began here. The Lady is the incipient point. The spark.
Then, he was somewhere else.
He knew this place. Cold stone, cold walls. Grey, so much grey. He was in a hard bed, alone, struggling to live. No, no not this again, he thought, trying to move—it was like was chained down. He was trapped in his home again, confined to a sick-bed.
Straining against invisible bindings, he broke free. The moment he did, the world around him changed in a blink. He was in a frozen wasteland, surrounded by a blizzard. The cold was crushing him, the wind scratching at his face. He looked behind him and saw it—the dismal, snow-capped towers, the ring walls. The tomb-city, his home. He knew that beneath his feet, the bones of the dead were used to ward the living from harm, keeping his brothers and sisters safe. He had stumbled outside that protection.
He clutched himself, lightly-dressed and ill-equipped for the cold. He was going to freeze, and soon, but he had known that when he came there. I came here to die, he remembered sadly. He hadn’t known back then what was needed to conquer despair. He recalled words that he had not yet written—‘It is a terrible thing for a man to be alone.’
A figure approached him out of the blizzard, one wrapped in long, fur-lined robes that whipped in the wind. “On your own, you’ll die,” his teacher said.
I know, he wanted to reply, but the words caught in his throat, frozen to death.
Suddenly, the snow around him melted away, the blizzard ended, the man disappeared, and the tomb-city was a memory. Everything had changed, changed into something he had never even dared to imagine before.
There was green all around him. A field, but one different from anything he’d seen before. More clear, more… real. He looked in the distance and saw blue mountains, with an ivory city suspended on the side. And there, just out of reach, he saw them. The friends he had always lacked, but had never known he missed until that moment. His eyes burned with tears, and he reached out, desperate to stay with them, but it all vanished before he could.
He was on a ship, wispy brown hair tossing in the wind as he stood at the prow. The stars above him were connected with lines of light, and those lines pointed towards a black island that was coming swiftly into view. The spark, that same brightness he had glimpsed in the Lady’s hand, was there, just a bare pinprick in the distance.
Suddenly, in the dark, far away, there was a voice. Or many voices, all speaking at once. “The Star shows it,” it said, powerful and distant, “the Star shows you what is Six and One. Can you see it?”
The visions he saw were no longer of his own past alone—he was thankful for that. It was the others he wished to know of, and it was them he saw. A slender girl hearing voices in the wind, tasting colors in the air. A young lady, teary-eyed as she hugged her family and said goodbye. A woman clinging to wreckage, swirled in an ocean storm, while others drowned around her. A man with blue eyes in a white-and-black uniform. A man kneeling, staring, weeping as a building in front of him burned, flames and screams coming out.
They were all coming together. Six colors, then a thousand colors, then ten thousand, all together, all swirling around an impossible future. Six towers, reaching up towards a twilight sky. He saw again that pinprick of light, glowing ever brighter at the center in a flash.
A different kind of spark, he recalled. Virtues brought together, bound in friendship. Together, not apart.
The scene shifted beneath him. The world became a noble court, cast in glaring sunlight. Before a dais of black figures stood a beautiful lady with violet hair, and a man, tall and troubled, with a golden eye. There was a whisper in the vision. The Dreamweave, it said.
This was precisely what he had hoped for, and now images were cropping up wildly, running past as he tried to study them.
Three figures. One in blue, one in gold, one in white. All in red. The facts sprang to his mind without warning, and so he tried to peer closer, to learn who these three were. He managed to see the gold one—a giant, wading in blood, protecting Lady Violet from enemies. Honesty, he knew, just as it faded away.
“The first rule of fighting: win…” he heard a familiar voice say.
More visions. A fleet of ships with blue sails, charging towards a distant, red horizon. A nightmare surrounding a city. Cyan and crimson shadows circling one another, waiting for weakness.
Three men. Garbed in black-and-white, thinking in black-and-white. One carried the disappointment of his father, one the scorn of his son, the last a hatred for all. The last one is the greatest danger, he realized.
“What a man wants does not matter…” a bitter voice said.
He saw a man lying down, a dog futilely licking at his hand as his life faded away. A woman with a crossbow, fighting desperately beside strangers. A hammer pointed at an innocent, condemning him to die.
Three strangers. Yellow, sick. All of them marked to die. The last one raged and cursed and lashed out, but his black heart would never save him. Hatred cannot save anyone.
“One every day, every day until you surrender…” someone said, voice mocking and cruel.
Men in cloaks hid in secret under the earth, helping to save their friends. A changeling, turning into a man, one warped and twisted and stamped with a tattoo. A figure writhing and screaming, consumed by fire from his hands, from his wrists, from his mouth.
Three faces. One had a tear on his cheek, weeping for his regrets, knowing the consequences. Another had a manic grin, but it was hollow—he was hollow. The last one had three faces all of his own, straining against one another, biting and tearing away for control.
“Make me an instrument…” a man said, sorrowful. He knew that voice.
An old scholar, bent over from age, trying to find the key to save him from death. A man who wanted to die, just to cure the evil he’d done. A monstrous blasphemy, never to die, waiting to be unleashed on the world again.
Three masks. Rage and fear and vengeance were their names, no matter how they tried to hide them. Forced from their homes, forced from their hopes. Across the sea, and out of time.
“Dark days are coming…” one of them murmured.
The vision was starting to come apart — he strained to hold it together just a little longer. He needed this information. They did.
He was standing on black water, floating weightlessly above the surface of the crashing waves. The island in front of him stood broken over the sea, shattered under the moon, as the Mare Who Waited wept oily tears. The four stars will aid in its escape, She warned.
“In what’s escape?” he asked.
Suddenly, he plunged through the water, sinking, drowning. He drifted down and down and down, but in the blackness there was a light. Nothing like the spark. It was sallow and sickly, ancient and vile. Its eyes were staring right at him. A voice echoed in his mind, impossibly old, every word toxic with loathing.
“Know… you cannot hope to know.”
The voice was an assault on him—it was poisonous, tearing his mind apart. He tried to maintain a grip, just a little longer. I need to see it…
The last of the images were flashing wildly, out of place. A bronze key, opening the way in the dark. A kneeling man, praying for redemption, with a silver knife in his hand. A single slash, and a golden eye was all that remained...
He strained, struggled to remain in place for only a few seconds more. He was in pitch, oppressive darkness. Then he saw it.
The fourth mask. Written upon it were secrets, terrible ones, lies that could be believed or condemned, and its name was death. From its head sprang horns, one a crooked antler and the other like a twisting spiral. It grinned hideously with bared teeth and empty eyes, looking right at him. I know that mask, he thought, alarmed.
“It’s a shame,” the horrible thing said in a cold, sad voice. “I would have preferred that you lived…”
He raised his hands to defend himself… but saw there was no need. The spark had returned, exploding in color and lighting up the dark. “Do you see?” it asked. Before its light, the smiling mask crumbled away, powerless. Within the star, he could see that green place, his friends. He reached out, tears in his eyes, just trying to…
Feylen Mars opened his eyes, awoken. He blinked in confusion, trying to get a bearing on where he was. Am I still…?
No, the dream was over now. He was back in his office, sitting at his desk, surrounded by papers. A single candle burned in front of him, his hand hovering over it closely enough for the flame to lick his palm. Mars pulled the hand back, rubbing the burned spot gently—though truthfully, he was long used to that small pain. The room was dim, and the hour very, very late—the rest of the Magic Wing was asleep, no doubt.
Mars did not waste a moment: grabbing a pen and a paper swiftly, he began frantically jotting down everything he had seen, leaving nothing out. Far more than last time, he thought proudly. And more detailed as well. His friends needed to hear of it immediately—he was not certain how much of it was related to the mission in the Dreamweave, as it was always hard to separate such things, but anything might be useful.
What he had glimpsed, though, had been disturbing. The voice in the dark… the fourth mask… He shuddered to remember it. He had an instinct as to what both might mean, but he had to research it first. He only hoped he was wrong.
Mars rubbed his eyes, exhausted. He had been born with the gift, and was trained in it, but that did not make it easy nor without cost. Mars felt drained, and stretched thin. I’m thin enough as it is, he thought with very faint amusement, looking down at his bony wrist. Jestin would tell him to eat more, he knew.
After he finished writing down everything, Mars checked over it again, then a another time, making sure that he left nothing out. All of this would have to be sent with a datagram as soon as possible, if it were to reach Violet and Honesty. He was in the middle of transcribing it when the door to his office opened.
His head shot up, to see a woman in a purple robe, with a green hood and green patches on the sleeves. A messenger. “My lord?” she asked hesitantly. “I was not sure if you were still awake, but—"
“I am, friend,” Mars said, giving a tired smile. “Have you some news for me?”
She nodded. “From the Dreamweave, my lord. There has been an incident.”
Mars’ heart stopped for a moment, but he did not let himself show it. He motioned for her to continue.
“We only just received the update. A riot broke out in the city. Several Bronies were injured, though none killed, praise the Six.”
Mars let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding. That relief was swiftly replaced by indignation. A riot, he thought bitterly, and my friends injured. He wondered what in Faust’s name the Moderators and nobles of the Dreamweave were playing at, allowing something like this to happen, after safe conduct was promised. “Have you the names of those hurt?”
“We have a more detailed report for your review, my lord.” She hesitated a moment, before continuing. “It would seem, my lord, that the Lady Violet was caught in the middle of this. She might have died, had it not been for the Warden of Honesty.”
Mars’ eyes widened. “Then is she…?”
“Unhurt, my lord,” she replied quickly, before realizing that she had spoken out of turn. “Apologies, I did not — “
“You committed no wrong,” Mars said, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. Her relief at the Warden of Generosity being rescued was palpable, and he would hardly criticize her for that. “I will take the report. Now get some rest, friend.”
She bowed, departing. Alone with his thoughts, Mars could not help but feel vindicated. I was right! he thought with enormous relief. The Warden of Honesty had rescued Violet. Reading over the report in detail only confirmed his hunch. Mars had known it was a gamble, sending his honest friend to the Dreamweave, but now knew that it had been the right choice. He had sensed danger from that city, and the Warden of Honesty had worked against it. It was his talent, after all.
The attack had changed things, however. Before, the troubles had been small-scale, easily dispersed, with no injuries. Mindless rabble violence. This, on the other hand, reeked of an organized effort. That required new precautions.
I need Madelin, Mars realized, rising from his seat. The Loyal Wing was some distance away, but he did not intend to wait, not when he needed his loyal friend so urgently.
The Citadel was slumbering, that night. The Mare Who Waited still had some Bronies awake during Her night, moving quietly through the halls or hunched over desks. They would all bow in respectful greeting to Mars as he passed by, but it was hardly like one of Jestin’s parties. The Warden of Magic traced his way silently through the building, legs hurting slightly as he did so.
Mars had been expecting to walk all the way to the Loyal Wing. As it turned out, it wasn’t needed: when he passed by the council room, he happened to hear noise coming from within. Opening the door, he saw none other than Madelin Wright, his loyal friend, fiddling with the chairs idly.
“Madelin,” he said with a smile when he saw her.
She gave a start and immediately dropped what she was doing. “Balefire! You gave me a scare there, Mars. I wasn’t messin’ with the chairs or anything,” she said, lying badly.
“I see you couldn’t sleep?” Mars asked. It was hardly surprising, considering the sheer amount of energy pent up in Madelin on a daily basis.
She snorted. “Sleep’s for people who can lie down. I’ve got a million things firing off, so how the Hell am I meant to stay still? Ha!” She grinned at Mars eagerly. “I see you’ve got the wakey-bug too, pal. You know Lilly’s gonna freak if you’re not restin’, right?”
Mars sighed. “She really shouldn’t be worrying about me.”
“Eh, maybe. Course, she really hits the nail on the head most times, with the healthy-livin’ stuff I mean,” she said, speaking at lightning pace. “Remember that time I got that concussion jumpin’ off that stage into the meal wagon? Balefire, that was stupid. Anyhow, who even knew they had potions for that? Medicine’s just unbelievable, ain’t it? It’s a neat time to be alive, really. Lilly’s a real sweetheart, too. Whenever I cut people up they just die, but she can do it to patch ‘em up. You gotta envy that, y’know?”
Mars knew Madelin well enough to realize that, all too often, she jumped around topics when something was gnawing at her. Nerves, though ones that she, as a soldier and commander, had covered very well. He gave a reassuring look. “What’s on your mind, Maddy?”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Hmm, guess I showed that one on my chest, didn’t I? Alright, fine. Well, you’re up in the middle of the night, obviously, and you’re not in the Magic Wing. Which means you must be goin’ to one of the other branches, which means that something urgent is happenin’.” She started to wave a hand around as she spoke with increasing speed. “But you didn’t call me and Jestin and Lil altogether at once, so the way I see it you’ve got a problem for only one of us. And I’ve got a whole crisis-containment mentality-thing going on. So when you walked in I got the feeling that you were up in the middle of the night to come and see me in the Loyal Wing, and if that’s the case then something’s happened that needs doin’ and such a thing requires a… a less diplomatic approach. Not medicinal, I mean.”
She took a deep breath after the lightning-fast analysis, and fixed him with a hesitant look. “Am I right?”
“You aren’t wrong,” Mars replied, putting the report down on the table. “A datagram from the Dreamweave.”
Madelin snatched it up immediately, eyes scanning through each page in seconds as she sped through. Her face was blank until the moment she finished, slammed the message down on the table, and sprang up from the chair she had sat in. “Dammit,” she muttered, turning her face away from Mars. “Dammit all. Pack of savages thinkin’ they can… I shoulda…” She grimaced, scratching her chin thoughtfully. “That thing with Honesty tagging along, protectin’ V? Remind me to never second-guess your decisions again.”
“The day you do that is the day I lose some of my best counsel,” Mars replied, earning him a bashful smile from Maddy.
“So,” she asked as she fell back into a chair, her leg bouncing up and down unceasingly, “what’s the game-plan? I’m ready, whatever you wanna do.”
“Our units in the Devien Isles must be put on alert,” Mars insisted. “This attempt on our friends’ life has all the signs of conspiracy, and we must have every precaution. Should the situation deteriorate, I want your forces to be able to respond immediately.”
“Right, ah… yeah. I’ll do that. Straight away, y’know.” She coughed. “Alright, ‘bout that, I kinda… already did. Like, a month ago.”
Mars just looked at her. “You’ve had our fleet in the Painted Sea on high alert for a month and didn’t tell me?”
“Yeah, and here’s me ownin’ up to it. Gave the order a while before V and Honesty arrived in Indelio. Scrambled our operatives and everything.”
Mars gave her a stern look. “Is there a reason you did not grace me with this information?”
She matched the look, and drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “I figured if I asked you’d say no. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“There is a reason why I would have said no,” Mars replied with no undue emphasis. “Having your troops on stand-by for an imminent fast strike before our diplomats even arrive is a signal that we have no faith in the talks even occurring.”
“Their only objective was to be ready to move in case anything happened, and only then. They were secret orders, Mars.”
“And what if the Authority intercepted the codes? Or the Chamber planted a man on the inside to leak information? Or someone spoke without thinking? It might have caused a scandal.”
“I run a tight ship,” Madelin responded, respectfully but firmly. “The only people that knew about the whole scope of it were people I know and people I trust. People I picked. There are no leaks in the Loyal Friends. Hence the name.”
“Madelin, we’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah, and you were right then, Mars,” she admitted, leaning in close. “But don’t think I’m charging in without thinkin’ again. I spent a week locked in my room with every intelligence report, history book, and court record I could find on the Dreamweave. Every detail, and the more I read the more suspicious I was. That city is serious trouble, and two of our best friends walked right in the thick of it. I wasn’t letting that go without some back-up. You can’t say I wasn’t right, seein’ that you’re ordering the same thing now.”
“After we were provoked, and thus had a legitimate reason,” Mars replied, being as clear as he could. He sighed. “You still should have at least told me earlier, Maddy. I know this is your area of expertise, but we can’t function as leaders if we’re not relying on one another. That kind of separation, not strengthening ourselves with our friends at our sides, begs for trouble.”
Madelin chewed on that thought, leg still bouncing. “Alright,” he replied with a nod, “I see the point. You’re right on that. But if we’re sharin’, I’ve got another… line of inquiry.”
Before Mars could react, Madelin snatched his hand and forced open his palm. She saw the burn mark in the middle immediately. “Yup,” she said, allowing him to pull his hand back, “thought as much. See, now it’s my turn to be worried.”
Mars looked at the hand she had grabbed. The burn on it was square in the middle, tiny, hardly even noticeable. “You have nothing to be concerned about.”
“Huh, weird,” Madelin said with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t have to worry about you summoning some bizarro magical vision-quest-thing that’s literally powered by pain? How did you figure that?”
He rubbed the burn. “The pain simply shocks the mind to attention. I use it to summon dreams on command—in my control. Entirely manageable.”
Madelin looked at him skeptically. “I wonder if that’s what Lilly thinks. How about Violet? That’s why you two kids were fighting ‘fore she left, ain’t it?”
Sometimes Mars truly wished that Madelin wasn’t as savvy as she was. “I know how this works, Madelin. Trust me, I’m in control, and our friends need every advantage.”
“What I’m hearin’,” she replied plainly, “is that you’re doin’ some clandestine such-and-such, but it’s for our friends, which makes it OK. And you aren’t sharing that with the rest of us.” Madelin gave him a pointed look. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mars, but that sounds a bit familiar.”
Mars wanted to say that the two were not comparable. Instead, after thinking about it more, he groaned. “Very well, I’ll concede that point. I’m sorry for not letting you know I was doing it again—that was wrong of me.” He sat back and massaged the burn. “Truthfully, I didn’t want you all to worry. But it’s important that it be done.”
“Mars, I…” She bit her lip, looking nervous. “OK, once in awhile, that’s fine. Yeah, the future, woohoo. But you get obsessive with that… that. You say that Lilly shouldn’t worry, but she’s right nine-out-of-ten times, and she says it’s unhealthy the way you’re diving into it.”
He tried to stand firm. “It is nothing that I cannot—"
“Listen. Listen to me, Mars,” Madelin insisted, genuine anxiousness creeping into her expression. “I don’t know much about healing or your whole… ‘gift’-thing. I’m admittin’ that much. But I do know that it’s my job to keep my friends safe, and it doesn’t take an expert to see that this is taking a toll on you. Like you seeming like you’re on death’s doorstep every time I see you.” She stood up and started pacing back and forth. “It’s wearing you down. We all see it.”
Mars thought about that, carefully. He rolled up his sleeve a little, and looked at the mark on his wrist, the one that would never leave him. Orbs and circles, pierced by jutting lines that terminated at the base of his hand. Runic geometry, traditional for his people. A registration tattoo required of all cybramancers, with a designation number printed on the side: T1-1236. He remembered how much it stung, the first day he had it. It never did afterwards.
Madelin kicked at the ground. “I did some homework, of course. A long time ago, actually. Cybramancers goin’ ill. Dying young. Losing their minds.”
Mars flexed his hand. “Insanity is not on my schedule, as it is.”
“I didn’t suspect you were given a choice, when it happened,” Maddy replied seriously.”Mars, it’s just… it worries me, alright. It worries all of us.” She crossed her arms, and looked at the floor. “I don’t think we could lose you,” she said quietly.
Mars looked at his loyal friend, feeling more guilty than he ever had. Have I been hurting them that much? he thought, sick at the idea. He had told Violet that there was nothing to worry about, that he wouldn’t get out of control. Now he was wondering if he’d gone back on his promise.
He stood, putting a hand on Madelin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I was thinking too much of results, and not enough about the people I wanted them for. If I truly need to dream again, I’ll make sure all of you know. It won’t get out of hand, I promise.”
Maddy spun around and wrapped him in a hug, the short woman’s arms squeezing the air out of him. She was grinning when she let me go. “Thanks, Mars. Now don’t go tellin’ anyone I was all touchy-feely tonight. The Loyal Friends prefer their leaders badass and surly, so I’ve got a reputation to keep.”
Mars smiled. “I’ll be sure to not let it slip just how caring and sensitive you are.”
Madelin snorted. “Sure, Mars, sure. You try to get some sleep now, y’hear?”
“You too, Maddy,” Mars replied quietly as she left for the night. He looked around the dark room, silent, and sighed.
He made his way back to the Magic Wing, resolving to spend the rest of the night resting, if not sleeping. Lorelove would probably be overjoyed to know he was taking time to lie down, between everything.
Mars passed through the Magic Wing, and came across the Orrery, that great model of the heavens, sitting dormant in the center. They had not come across a sign of a new Season yet, no trace of it in the stars. We’ll see it soon, Mars thought, eager for the day to come.
On a whim, he stepped inside the device, and approached a pale silver orb. The Mare Who Waited. He laid a hand on the moon. What would you say of my dreams? he wondered. Her domain was in sleep, but he knew his were different. His always came true.
He looked up. There was a large skylight above him, showing the cloudy night sky overhead. Stars were peering through, looking at him.
‘Cybramancers goin’ ill. Dying young. Losing their minds.’ Madelin had asked him about that. He knew those fears all too well. The gift was powerful, but it was fueled by life, and it would rob a man of his strength, physical and otherwise. Forty years old, perhaps fifty. Mars had met one cybramancer who claimed to be sixty. Most young men imagined they would live forever. Mars knew that he would be lucky to see another twenty years. Abstaining from his dreams might lengthen that, but it couldn’t fix it.
Mars knew that he had been dreaming to help his friends. But he also knew that he could not let it drive a wedge between him. Everyone had their own strengths, their own weaknesses, their own frailties. Bottle them up and never share them, and they’d tear you down. You needed friends to hold you back, and make you aware of your limits. By cutting himself off, Mars had been ignoring his. He was grateful that the Collective had more than one Warden, and that those Wardens were friends. Otherwise, they’d have all fallen in some way.
His thoughts turned to two of those friends, far far away. He hoped they remembered as well. He hoped that Honesty would rely on her for when words ruled the day, and that she would trust him on the days that they failed. He hoped he could hear about that, when they returned.
Together, not apart.
* * * * * *
Galaxy gazed out the window at the shimmery stars before crawling into bed. "It must be fun to twinkle in the sky," she thought dreamily, then fell sound asleep. A little star heard her thought and twinkled at her window. "Come out and play," it whispered in a tinkling voice. Still asleep, Galaxy followed the little star up to the sky where all the stars had gathered for a midnight party with the Big Dipper. To her surprise, the Little Dipper sprinkled stardust on Galaxy, and her eyes twinkled as brightly as the stars around her! At exactly one minute before midnight, the little star led Galaxy back to her bed. "It must have been a dream!" Galaxy yawned when she awoke in the morning. When she peeked at herself in the mirror, her eyes still twinkled brightly, and she realized that her midnight adventure had been real!
— Copied from “Galaxy,” by SoGreatandPowerful
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End of Part II
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Glad you enjoyed it, friend! I hope the rest of the story holds up just as well. Please, feel free to leave more comments as you read further in - I love having a chance to hear from readers about all this!
Ah, good to check back on the home base.
So far, as you've said was your goal, you've done well at making the Wardens distinct original characters but somewhat reminiscent (to varying degrees) of their counterparts in the Six, and that discussion between Mars and Madelin feels like something we might see on the show, with both sides having the best intentions but falling short in their own ways.
A look at Mars' cybramancy. Very nice, and as disjointed as a vision should be.
Well, 'twould seem we'll be facing off against something out of the Deep Webs before this is all over. I knew that raid our former mod took part in would be important.
Great chapter, lots of foreshadowing and some good character development.
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Glad to hear that I met with some success! I adore writing all of the Wardens, but I was very glad in this chapter to flesh out two of the ones we haven't seen nearly as much of recently. This certainly won't be the last time we see these two, not least because Madelin is one of my favorite characters to write in this whole story.
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Yeah, this chapter was definitely unusual compared to most of the other ones. Honestly, I liked the change of pace - Mars vision is a unique opportunity to break out a lot of the crazier stuff that ordinarily would be out of place.
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"I met a man from the land of masks,
Whose wooden visage held the task
To hide his heart and soul away
From the lamp-light eyes of the Beast in the Bay."
I won't say you called it... but you totally called it.
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Ha, you're far too kind, friend! Honestly, I couldn't be more flattered to know that someone is enjoying the story so much - please, don't hesitate to keep leaving comments as you work through the story! I'd love to see how your thoughts on all this progress as the plot develops.
Your assumption would be 100% accurate. Obviously there are more details to come, but that dream basically shows the big turning point in Proximo's life that turned him into the character we now know. His family never cared for his attitude before the duel, but his father and older sister have scarcely improved their opinions of Proximo even after he reformed, not least because that reformation involved joining up with the "horse-lovers" (but I'm getting ahead of myself - you'll see more of that later).
Ha, well now you have to ask yourself: if he chose to rename himself "Coin Counter," how bad did his old name have to be?
I absolutely adore Fallout: Equestria, so my writing ever becoming even an inkling as brilliant as that story would be a dream come true. Honestly, I consider Kkat's work to be not only one of the best stories I've read on this site, but one of the stories I've ever read period. Since WWW involves a lot of celebration of Brony works and culture, I thought it only natural to include my favorite Brony writer in it just as much as I included my favorite Brony musician, SoGaP. I was thrilled when Kkat gave me the go-ahead to use the quotations you've seen thus far, and I promise it won't be the last reference you see!
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To be perfectly honest, I'm not altogether fond of Project Horizons either. One of the things I loved most about the original Fallout: Equestria was that it was dark but with a great deal of hope, balancing gore and grimness with genuinely good heroes and a sense that things can and will get better because of their sacrifices. Somber's work seemed more like darkness for the sake of darkness: nothing but constant, grinding unpleasantness done by characters that I had no reason to sympathize with. There's such a thing as being way, way too hopeless and caustic in a story like that one... and way too long as well. Don't get me wrong, Kkat wrote one heck of a door-stopper, but by the end of it I was sure that every single word and sentence was necessary - I wouldn't have cut a single thing out. Project Horizons is absolutely laden with unneeded fluff. So yeah, not really a fan.
That didn't mean, of course, that it couldn't make for a pretty good reference in the title of that chapter.
What was that quote from Homage? "Sometimes being honest is knowing when not to be." Our own warden might just learn that before this is all over.
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Well, I won't flatter myself by pretending to have even an ounce of the foresight and eye for detail that Kkat had in making her story. Still, keep an eye out for the small stuff that comes up in these early chapters - a few things might come back around to surprise you.
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"Star" in this case refers to the Citadel of the Six (which is shaped like a star). The datagram operators here are using it the same way people nowadays might refer to "HQ" in their own communications, just like you said. As for your other questions... that'll come later.
Man, I am so glad that someone called that out!
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"When the Bronies come into the Dreamweave, they aren't sendin' their best. They're bringin' ponies, they're bringin' friendship. They're horse-lovers. And some, I would assume, are good people."
"We need to build a wall around the Dreamweave, and make the Bronies pay for it!"
Honestly, I have no idea how things like internet fandoms and brief references to the show would be covered in copyright law if this story was ever sent to a publisher. Are the short quotations included in the story enough to qualify for the almighty Hasbro banhammer? Or would it skirt by? Furthermore, I have to wonder how a story based entirely around the Brony fandom would perform among a wider audience. It's hardly a secret that our fandom isn't held in high regard by some, and the subject is pretty esoteric to begin with.
Well, either way, that's all speculation for now. For right now, all I'm worried about is writing the best story possible for my fellow Bronies on this site, and all other plans can wait 'til that's done.
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Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! Yeah, sorry about the tease there - I couldn't resist having at least one. Rest assured, the next chapter will be an illuminating one, though obviously not all mysteries can be resolved early on.
7665286 Yeeeaaaahhhh.... me and The Abomination... let's just say my and Somber have an antipathy towards each other that is rather well known in the FOE community... to that point we've actually had Kkat herself step in and try to get us to back off each other in the past... I do not like him, I find his views on what makes a 'good' story to be antithetical to story telling in general and be just horribly cynical, and that story...... well it's an Abomination. If this was in The Web and there really was some Fire War between the adherents of the Book of the Lightbringer, and the Apostates of the Security Mare.. I'd be one of the ones leading the assault agsint the latter. Pretty much for the reasons you listed, but above and beyond those, the retcons and the constant "My story is the REAL version of events" need to shoehorn Somber's OC's into having been behind EVERYTHING, and to always need to one up the original story.
The rest, whelp was right about "HQ", and a few other things it seems, and yeah not expecting FOE levels of, one single line from chapter three can come back and be the key to victory type levels of foreshadowing and set up, but already noting quite a few little details I'm expecting to come back up, if only for how precises and carefully placed they were.
And the last bit, it was mostly tongue in cheek, that type of stuff does annoy me a bit, but it works. And way better then some of the stuff iisaw pulls in his stuff.
Anyway back to the story.
7676658 RE: Halforth and proving their case. that does make sense, and was mostly what I figured was the case, at least the unable to question his trusted advisor, did not think about the 'Seen it all" aspect, but that really works too. Still feels a tad odd they haven't even tried but, not a major thing, more, something that could have been fixed by one of them just bringing it up and him being direct and upfront and telling them exactly why he would not. Still, let's see how he reacts if he ever finally gets to interview the accused......
Arcadio, I was hoping there would be more coming, and I totally get not wanting to make them sympathetic, just, yeah went a LITTLE to far towards that. And, as I've said it really is not overall all THAT bad, and they do work, it's just, when compared to such amazing level of nuance, and detail, and well done all around presence and believably as Halforth, they really do not stand up well. Still, looking forward to more.
And like I mentioned before, what I'd put as my gold gold standard for how to make a character wholly, utterly and completely VILE, no sympathy at all, no redeeming features, just out right loathsome on every level as a person... and yet still work and be so damn well done as a character Salrath from Days of Wasp and Spider. I have never hated a character so much, with absolutely ZERO of the hatred being in anyway on the story, but fully on the character as a person. (Also, you really should read it, is is AMAZING! And while not written as an FOE story, it fits in so so well and feels like it should be. It's a prequel to the show telling how Equestria as we know it came to be, Ponies were not the first to dominate, that goes to "The Masters" a race of bipedal, canine like creatures, that yes do have an affinity for gems and seem unable to use pronouns. They created a vast, ultra high tech global empire... built on the backs of the "Servitors"... Ponies. The entire race enslaved, not just in body, but every one of them forced to be imprinted with a magical construct "The Blessing" that punished them with intense pain if they even think of disobeying or failing their Masters. Pain they have been condition to believe is punishment from The Maker himself for failing their duty. So for generations they have been used, discard, mistreated.. until an experiment accidentally causes one young, white coated, pink maned filly to lose her Blessing, to for the first time, see the world with her thoughts unclouded, see the harsh reality of what her race is, the way they are treated, and with her younger, darker coated sister at her side, set out to free their people. And yeah it feels a lot like FOE, above all being sharing one all important theme... sometimes, when things are at their worst.... no matter how dark things are, how grim.. no darkness can ever fully extinguish the light of Hope. All it takes is one tiny spark. The sometimes, all it takes to change the world for the better, is one person, or one pony, willing to stand up and say "No! This. Is. WRONG!" So damn good...)
Okay fic plug over for now.
Heh.... heheh... hehehehehehehehehehehe
have you seen what I've done so far? this is me summarizing... and It's still been how much I can talk about? overthinking stories is what I DO, and having one with this much to look at... well.. once I finish catching up and you get back to updating.. well.... http://www.fimfiction.net/story/234937/fractured-sunlight Just scroll down that comment section a ways...... Just a warning what your in for. 
Proximo, yeah that works, again minor annoyance not a major issue by any means, even something as simple as, they had heard the rumors of a conspiracy, but this was the first he's heard the name would have worked better IMO, but eh, minor quibble.
Dreamweave.... I guess that makes sense, just trying to make a statement more then anything. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? I mean, it's not like.... IRL.. the entire world would be plunged into years of Warfare affecting every nation on the planet in some way or other and forever altering everything, all over some random idiot killing a somewhat important person in some backwater city in the middle of the Balkans... nah nothing even close to that is possible......
Well feel free to use it if you want.
Hopefully be caught up over the weekend, generally read at work on my Kindle, either during breaks... yeah totally during breaks only....
This whole opening was so so beautiful......
So the brony Fleet attacking or heading to Dreamweave... with something very, very wrong going on around it.....
Scardy Mod (Forget his name), Halforth, and asshole Mod. And the last.. so the most dangerous of the three.... or of this whole deal? Was him being sent not just luck of the draw? A Mod, already in low esteem, disgraced once.. looked down on... maybe lashing out, becoming so bitter he has his own plans for revenge..... ones that might be in part of what is going on in the larger view? I can see this very well...
So, Sir Depravity going to end up biting it? Seems to be the hint. One of the other PK's joining to fight with the Bronies? And that last..... Halforth sentencing an innocent? Maybe one of the Bronies to set this all off? Or, could be the Warden, about 70/30 on Halforth/Warden.
The Martes? The last being Arcadio?
Well that is damn ominous....
So, Ott is one of them, and they are going to work to hide away a 'Friend... maybe the one condemned to death while innocent?
Wait.... waaaiiiittttt,,,,, "Three faces"... three.... Hollow.... Instrument........Cure the evil.... avoiding death..... and that last one.... with the stuff from the anon chapter......... That..... this.... this is making way way to much sense.... ohhhhh I think I see what you are doing story...... still eager to see HOW this all fits together but.. I think I see what is going on... somehow...Ohh this is going to be one hell of an explanation.....
Okay and the Anons...
Discord.. and that picture Coin noted just before overhearing things... but.. they are well past the point Discord reformed......so... metaphor for something else?
So... much.... tension! Just... so much hinting, so much buildup, so damn GOOD and... starting to see a bit of a pattern in the dream/vision, hints.. and... if I'm right about things... it does all line up.... and yet does not even begin to answer... HOW!?!?!?!?!? Well looks like we are in for one HELL of a story...
As to the rest, just the whole going over the true strength of the Six, about trusting in others, letting them help you, not neglecting their concerns...
Just... so so amazingly put so well done..so.... the very core of the fandoms greatest strength. and the show.....and SO getting a very very heavy FOE vibe from this as well, the breaking up of the Mane 6, how they separated, how the War went as it did becuase they tried to take it on each on their own, not as a group, broken apart...... and here... learning from that and making sure to avoid that mistake this time.
Seriously this whole chapter was just... so so damn beautifully done.
And now. all caught up and ot begin the wait for MOAR! so much amazing.. EVERYTHING and so much to look forward to.... you really have one hell of a.. unique, amazing, engaging, fun, exciting... just all around masterpiece of a story and can't wait to see more and make your eyes bleed with some REAL commentary....... you have been warned....
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Very much intentional. The Channic are... difficult to get along with. Vaath, Syll, and Boar can barely stand one other even when they all have the same goals, so you can imagine that they rarely engender good feelings with anyone else (even readers).
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Well, why not both?
Me too! Her sincerity makes her a lot of fun to write. She's earnest, but practical; scrupulous, but able to take a joke; very uptight, but mostly just because she's eager to do her job properly and impress her teachers, all on top of being dutiful, honest, and a little oblivious. You can see why Halforth is so fond of her.
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That wasn't something I would have been able to write if it weren't a bit autobiographical. so I know exactly what you mean - I've been in my own share of Coin-esque encounters. And Bronycon! I admit, I'm jealous - I've never had a chance to attend a Brony convention, but I've always wanted to. Someday!
In all honesty, these last three chapters are probably the ones I enjoyed writing the most, not least because of moments like that one. After a few dozen chapters setting pieces up, it was great to cut loose and just show a few scenes of fun characters trading jokes, huge fights breaking out, and a couple mystical visions along the way.
God, I wish. I have a feeling that if Littlepip and Co. stopped by the Dreamweave, a lot of problems there would be solved very quickly.
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I'm not sure which of the Six Wardens is my favorite (I love writing all of them), but Violet might be the one I would trust the most were she in charge of something. She knows the stakes, understands the job, and gets things done. Honestly, writing her gave me a new appreciation for Rarity.
I won't say too much, except for this: you will be seeing plenty of Honesty, Halforth, and their weird friendship in the future.
Without meaning to spoil the upcoming part of the story... not long.
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One of the things I loved most about Fallout: Equestria was that it was about something. Most fiction on this site is made just to kill time or explore a funny idea, but FE had a genuine moral and message behind it, as shown by the heart-breaking backstory of the Mane Six and the triumph of Littlepip and the gang. I don't know how this story will look by the end of it, but I hope I can make my 'about' something as well.
And I'm looking forward to reading all of it, friend! Honestly, reading all this great feedback from you and every other commentator has been an absolute joy, so I only hope I can keep up writing a story worthy of all the attention.
Oh, and all this...
... is wonderful. I think you're picking up on what's being thrown down, so to speak. Keep theorizing!
This story is honestly amazing.
The characters are all rounded out and mostly likeable, although not extraordinarily so.
The plot is also compelling and very good, but again, while definitely significantly above average, still not what I would classify as extraordinary.
What however, makes the breaking point for me, is the worldbuilding and general writing style. The way and pacing you put into describing the history and current state of affairs is just incredibly compelling to me.
7740906 Worldbuilding is, by far and away, my favorite thing about writing, so I'm glad that shows! I love setting up the plot and characters as well, of course (writing dialogue is probably my second favorite thing), but putting together a whole setting, laying out history, and trying to decipher which pieces of the real world fit with which aspects of the Internet is a whole other category of fun for me. Trust me, there'll be plenty more to come!
Out of curiosity, are there any particular details or historical accounts from the world that interest you especially? Since I'm in the process of writing future chapters now, it would be helpful to know which parts of the backstory people wish to know more about, so I understand which to emphasize in what is left of the story (several people have mentioned wanting more about the Brony War, for example).