The Price of a God
Button Mash’s eyes fluttered open at a faint pressure on his foreleg. A white hoof carefully connected a tube to an assembly of bandages and plastic. A cooling sensation flowed beneath his skin, accompanied by a magical tingle.
“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Nurse Redheart smiled, checking the IV connection. “You were pretty banged up when they brought you in, but you’re already looking like yourself again.”
The air smelt of honey. He leaned his head against the pillow of his hospital bed and got a look at the liquid they were pumping into him. It was golden, shining in the harsh light. Ambrosia, then; that fantastical medicine brewed by Breezies. Keenly engineered to increase cellular production a hundredfold.
His free hoof traced across his chest. A cushion of bandages covered the ugly laceration. “Who—” His voice was a croak. His throat felt like the Sandidry Desert had moved in and made itself comfortable.
Redheart looked up from her work, her smile turning to a small frown. “Tell you what; I’ll be right back with a cup of water you can sip. Just hang tight, okay?”
Button tried to move, but the sharp bolt of white-hot fire in his chest held him in place. He blinked around the room, sighing as the lights dimmed a bit at Redheart’s exit.
“As first dates go, I’d say you win the prize, old bean.”
“Pip.” Button Mash lolled his head around. The short, sturdy colt himself was seated beside the bed, black rings around his eyes.
Pipsqueak offered a grin. It didn’t do much to hide his furrowed brow or warbling speech. “You’re… you’re looking like you could take on an army. With one hoof tied behind your back. Or hooked up to an IV.”
Button didn’t have the strength to roll his eyes, so he shot for candidness. “How bad… was it?”
Pipsqueak’s ears drooped in concert with his lips. “You looked like a deadpony. Pale, bloody, smashed to all heck. Nurse Redheart wasn’t joking when she said you looked better. It’s not a hard thing to do.”
Button rubbed his face and was rewarded with the sensation of several bruises dotting his muzzle and cheeks. “Oooow…”
“Snips is headed to your house to notify your parents.” Pipsqueak tapped his hoof against the armrest. “The poor fool volunteered, bless his heart. Can’t imagine that they’ll take the news well.”
Judging by their history with such, no, no they wouldn’t. Button’s ears perked up as Redheart returned with a foam cup. She flipped a folding table over his chest and set the beverage on top, within easy reach of his lips. She trotted back through the door, easing it closed behind her. “I’ll be along to check up on you in an hour or so. If you need me, just ring the bell above your bed.”
Button wished with every fiber of his being to guzzle greedily, but though the first sip felt like the best thing ever, the second sent nausea rolling through his body. Still, he could already feel his throat opening up and smoothing out. Just enough to make polite conversation.
“Did you see them?” Button said.
Pipsqueak jolted, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. “See who?”
“The ponies that took Sweetie Belle.” Button Mash stared at the ceiling tiles. Something coiled in his chest, tight and choking. “Th-they… did you see them?”
Pipsqueak rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as he found the knot he was looking for. He pressed with the edge of his hoof and looked away. “No. It took us a few minutes to realize what the emergency bell was for, and by then you were the only one in the house. Featherweight flew off to get a hospital wagon, while Snips and I…” He cleared his throat. A long exhale found its way between his pursed lips. “Tried to stop the bleeding.”
Button Mash pressed his teeth together. He took a slow sip, filling his mouth and sloshing it around. He ran his tongue over cracked lips. “I appreciate that.”
“Figured.” Pipsqueak’s smile returned, weak but earnest. “Gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day Button Mash got into a fight. I’ll bet you gave the dastard a run for their money, hmm?”
“I never laid a hoof on him.” Button Mash rested his head against the pillow, letting his ears bunch up beside his head. He gazed at the infinitely uninteresting ceiling tiles, faintly wishing they would collapse and end it then and there. “He was in control the entire time. We never stood a chance.”
Moisture pooled at the edge of his eyes. A biting pain rallied behind them, forcing its way into the open. “He took them and I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t do a darned thing.”
“Hold up, now.” Pipsqueak sat up, half-reaching for Button. “There’s no need to beat yourself… up…”
He slapped himself in the face. He slumped back into place, rubbing the edge of his muzzle. “In any case, you did more than most would.”
Button tried and failed to hold back sobs hiccupping their way out of his chest. Each gulp of air stretched his ribs. Each tear pressed past blackened bruises. “I couldn’t do anything.”
Pipsqueak sighed. He shook his head, turning it towards the floor. “Maybe we both need some rest.”
Their ears perked up at a thump from the doorway. Button saw a flash of purple scales beyond the crack. “Button? It’s Spike.”
Button opened his mouth, but found it harder to find the words than when his throat was dry and aching. Pipsqueak raised an eyebrow, and Button nodded.
“Button says come in, Spike.” Pipsqueak leaned his cheek on a hoof, waving the dragon in with the other. “Just don’t expect the best company.”
Spike eased himself inside, careful to avoid scratching the floor with his lumbering claws. His tail snaked behind him, twitchy and shaking. “Holy cow. Button?”
Button Mash took a sip to calm his nerves a smidge. “Mostly in the flesh.”
Spike dropped to all fours and scuttled up to the bedside. He looked Button up and down, his jaw hanging loose. “Whoa. Are you gonna be okay?”
“Full recovery, the nurse said.” Pipsqueak waved a hoof, his eyes tracing a line on the far wall. “Physically, he’s gonna be fine.”
Spike rubbed the scales on his forehead. A soft breath blew green fire between his lips. The flames rolled and spun in the air, transforming from cinders to a pad of paper and a feather pen. He caught the both of them and stood ready to write. “I’m going to help them Button, but I need you to tell me what happened. Who took Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo?”
“Scootaloo?” Pipsqueak snapped his head around, his ears lowered. “Did I miss something?”
“They took them both,” Button croaked. His breath shuddered on its way out. “They took them both.”
“Who?” Spike’s claws closed tight around the paper, pocking holes through several sheets. “Who was it, Button?”
“You’ll never believe me.” Button wiped his eyes on his sheets. He stared at his hooves, one battered and the other pumped full of medicine. “I don’t believe it myself. It’s too stupid.”
Spike gritted his teeth in a dire grimace. “I’ve seen my fair share of stupid stuff, and it hasn’t stopped it from being true. If we’re gonna save Sweetie and Scoots, I need to know.”
Button looked from Spike to Pipsqueak and back again. He heaved a sigh, a fresh wave of nausea kicking him in the gut. “They called him ‘Caballeron.’”
Pipsqueak might have snorted, but he cut it short enough that it was hard to tell. He turned red-tinged eyes to Spike. “You may want to come back later, when he’s had time to—”
“I’m not crazy,” Button said. “And I’m not making it up. He looked like he was pulled right from the page, too. He smashed me into the ground, cut me open, and carried Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo away.”
Button shut his eyes tight and swung a hoof. “And I took it like a clod!”
His foreleg bumped against the cup, sending it tumbling towards his lap. Spike caught it with a snap of his wrist and set it back on the folding table.
“Thanks,” Button mumbled. He fell limp across the bed, resting his aching limbs. The ambrosia tingled within his body, coursing through the fairy strings that carried magic from his heart. “What are you going to do? What can you do?”
Spike smirked, grim and growling. He scrawled the pen across the page with swift, spiraling strokes. “The first thing I always do when the going gets tough. ‘Dear Princess Celestia…’”
***
Sweetie Belle held her head in her hooves, fighting back a headache to end all headaches. The world around her was dark and cold, wet to the touch. Stone sat beneath her. And above her. And to every side. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, raining mineral water to a haphazard drum beat. She leaned her back against the tall wooden stakes caging her in.
Her glasses were smudged. She tried to wipe them on her coat, but it was matted with grit. She settled for getting them mostly usable and set them on her nose. “Hello? Hello! Is anybody there?”
“Sweetie?”
“Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle hopped to her feet. She spun in place, seeking out the source of the heart-warming voice. “Are you okay? Can you see me?”
“Nah. Been awake for a few hours now.” There was a clatter as Scootaloo kicked a rock across the stone floor. “Nothing but nothing. Haven’t even seen Caballeron since he threw us in here.”
“Caba-what?” Sweetie Belle shook her head and instantly regretted the rattling in her skull. “Ow. Never mind. Do you know where we are? Do you know why they took us? Do you know what they’re going to do—?”
“Sweetie, Sweetie, Sweetie! All these questions!” There was a halfhearted laugh. “What do I look like, an encyclopedia?”
Sweetie Belle let her horn tap against the wood bars as she slumped forward. “That wasn’t funny the first twenty-million times we made that joke.”
“Yes, it was. It totally was.”
Sweetie took a deep breath. She felt her heart pump slower. Stronger. A methodical, controlled beat. Her limbs tingled with the magic churning through her veins. It collected at the tip of her horn and manifested as a bright, shimmering green orb.
Scootaloo’s smiling face appeared on the far side of the room, sporting a black eye and a mussed mane. “Nice glowstick.”
“Thanks.” Sweetie Belle crossed her eyes to see the bulb of pure magic. It held steady, illuminating what little there was to see in the room. A pool of water separated the two of them, collecting the pitter patter from the overhead stone. “I’m not sure how long I should hold this, though. Without my medicine, it’ll start to hurt pretty quick.”
“Just hold it for as long as you’re comfortable.” Scootaloo bit her lip, looping her forelegs around the bars of her cage. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”
“Likewise.” Sweetie felt a painful twinge ram through her gut. Button Mash. Last she’d seen of him was… “Do you think Button’s okay?”
“I…” Scootaloo shook her head, flicking her feathery mane. “I think I was out cold. Didn’t see him.”
“He was hurt.” Sweetie Belle rubbed her nose. Her horn dimmed, just for a moment, as she lost focus. “He looked bad.”
Scootaloo forced a grin onto her face. She swung a foreleg. “I’m sure he’ll be fine! The fire volunteers were on their way, right? No way they didn’t help him out.”
When Sweetie didn’t say anything, Scootaloo whispered, “No way they didn’t.”
“Right.” Sweetie Belle turned her head to light up the bars. They were thicker than a pony’s leg and—from what she could tell by leaning her weight on one—strong as heck. Oak? Cedar? Ironwood? Enchanted balsa? “Have you tried to get through the bars, yet?”
“Not since the last thousand times I ran head-first into them.” Scootaloo paced around in her cage, tossing a blob of water to herself. She caught it on the tip of her wing and rolled it from feather to feather. “They’re sunk into the ground. Damp, too, so they expanded to fill the space. I’ve seen cement that didn’t stick so hard.”
“Is there a door?” Sweetie Belle backed up to the center of her cell. The bars went right from the ceiling to the floor, like trees that had grown straight through the stone. “They had to get us in here somehow. Is it in the ceiling?”
“Shine some light on me.” Scootaloo hopped up with a powerful flap of her wings. She pressed her hooves between the hanging stalactites and came away muddy. “Nothing up here but us chickens. Not that I can see, anyway. Maybe there’s a password.”
A light flashed in Scootaloo’s eyes. She crossed her forelegs over her chest, shut her eyes, and shouted at the top of her lungs. “Kroota!”
The plink-plink-plink of the mineral water continued unbroken while Sweetie looked on in silence.
Scootaloo opened one eye. “What?”
“What the hay does ‘krudda’ mean?”
“Kroota.” Scootaloo grinned. “It means ‘friend’ in Griffish.”
Sweetie rolled her eyes. She rubbed her dirty mane and plodded around the edge of her cell. “Sometimes I do not understand you.”
“Different password, then.” Scootaloo clomped her hooves together. “Swordfish!”
Sweetie threw her head back. “It’s not gonna work, Scootaloo!”
“Abracadabra alakazam!”
Sweetie snickered. “Seriously? Are we making a serious effort at this?”
“Darn right!” Scootaloo grasped the bars with her forelegs and yanked. “Open Sesame!”
Sweetie couldn’t help but smile. “Shazam!”
“By the power of Brayskull!”
“Hocus pocus!”
“Allons-y!”
Sweetie Belle placed her hoof over her heart and sung aloud in her crystal clear voice. “Shoo be doo, shoo-shoo be doo!”
The stone rumbled. Ripples ran across the pool against the current created by the droplets. Scootaloo hovered just above the ground, staring wide-eyed at the jumping pebbled. “Wha—the heck?”
“Um.” Sweetie Belle wrapped her forelegs around a nearby pole to keep her balance. “Did it work?”
A wall fell away, revealing a door made from bronze and filled to bursting with clockwork. It disassembled itself more than it opened, sending pieces receding into the stone floor and ceiling. When the clack of gears and chatter of metal ceased, a coltishly-handsome pegasus stallion walked in. He tipped his sunglasses onto his forehead and flashed them a wink. “’Fraid not, lovely mares. Opens with a key.”
He strutted past, his head high and his shoulders wide. He pointed a wingtip at Sweetie Belle. “Wonderful song, by the way. Quite catchy.”
Sweetie Belle furrowed her brow, lowering her head to aim her horn in his direction.
He stopped before Scootaloo’s cage and leaned a knee against a sturdy bar. “Hello again, beautiful. Long time no see.”
“Waitaminute, waitaminute.” Scootaloo held her hooves out, swaying them back and forth between her and the stallion. “Waitaminute, are you seriously trying to flirt with me?”
He cupped his hooves beneath his chin and smiled. “Is that not a thing that a young stallion does when he meets a young mare who captures his fancy?”
Scootaloo blew a raspberry. She flapped her wings to get an additional couple meters of height on him. “Buddy, hate to break it to you, but clubbing a mare and dragging her back to your cave ain’t exactly in style nowadays.”
Sweetie Belle tried and failed to contain a snort. “He doesn’t strike me as the cavepony type, Scootaloo.”
“Ah. Scootaloo.” The stallion took to the air as well, swaying gently as he climbed to her level. “Scootaloo, Scootaloo, Scootaloo. The name just rolls like honey off the tongue.”
“Seriously, ew.“ Scootaloo flapped away, putting as much distance as possible between her and the stallion. “Seriously. That’s all kinds of nasty.”
He flipped onto his back, the pegasus magic in his wings holding him high above the ground. “Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Rhombus, and I am very, very pleased to meet you.”
Scootaloo stuck her tongue out. “The pleasure’s all yours. Now scram.”
Rhombus sighed and leaned against the bars, holding a hoof out to her. “I don’t mean you any harm. I just wish to have a chance to learn just who is this amazing mare that has left me enraptured.”
“Don’t mean harm?” Sweetie Belle’s horn flickered as she reared up against her cage. “What part of you kidnapping us doesn’t reach through your thick skull?”
Rhombus chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder. His eyes glinted in the light of Sweetie’s magic. “You’re an awfully accusatory mare. These circumstances are a wee bit beyond the ordinary, miss. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
He favored Scootaloo with a smile that might have sent Sweetie’s heart fluttering in a different time and place. “But now I find myself unable to fight these feelings inside. I have to let you know what an amazing pony you are. I need to let you know.”
“Number one,” Scootaloo said, “you freaking kidnapped me. Number two, you’re a total psychopath. Number three, do I even need a third reason? Number four, my boyfriend will totally beat you up.” She punched the bar beside his face, gritting her teeth. “After I break your nose again.”
Rhombus’ smile shattered as his teeth ground. “Boyfriend, hmm?”
“Yep.” Scootaloo’s smile grew as his crumbled. “Twice your size, way more handsome, didn’t beat my friend’s date into a bloody pulp.” She tapped her lips, turning her eyes upward. “He’s in the Royal Guard, too, you know. Big-time hero. He’s already reached the rank of pony-at-arms.”
“Really?” A laugh popped from the back of his throat. It was swiftly followed by a spattering of giggles, quiet yet clear. “Dear me, how impressive. The single lowest rank assigned in the military. How long’s he been in? Six months? Seven?”
“A—” Scootaloo’s face went red. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
Something struck the bar beside Sweetie Belle’s face. She screeched and stumbled back as her horn went out. The cave returned to dripping darkness.
Mustering her reserves, Sweetie Belle stood up and sent power through the coils of her horn. A glint of metal sat inches from where her face had been. Ripples ran across the surface of the sharp, comb-tipped blade.
“It means, dear, darling Scootaloo, that I have a great deal more experience than your beau.” He smiled with his teeth as his eyes trailed down her body, studying every inch. “In terms of prowess in combat… and romance.”
Scootaloo glanced at the blade embedded in Sweetie’s cage, then gaped at the score of similar blades glinting throughout Rhombus’ feathers. She flew back, her voice trembling. “You don’t touch me. You don’t get to, you freak.”
“Not until you ask me, no,” he said quietly. “Not until you want it.”
A ball of water splashed against his face. His mane hung limp around his nostrils. He snorted water and parted the damp hair with his hoof.
Scootaloo hefted a second bubble of water, aimed with pinpoint accuracy. “Get out.”
His hooves tapped stone as he reached the ground. He saluted her with his wing. “It’s meant to be, dear one.”
“Scram.”
The bubble of water impacted near his hooves as he danced out of the way. He laughed as he trotted for the door.
“The type of mare that I did fear
I’d never meet in a thousand years
Her beauty, her beauty
Has reduced me to tears
Her eyes are shining with a light
And in my heart I know ’tis right
I’ll love that girl with all my might
This lovely darling mare”
He skidded to a halt just outside the door. Caballeron blocked the way, his mouth a sour curve holding a smoldering cigarette.
“Poni.” Rhombus bit his lower lip, fluffing his feathers. “How are you?”
“Peeved.” Caballeron shouldered his way past the young stallion, smoke wafting in his wake. He tipped his Ponyma hat at Sweetie Belle. “I apologize for my compatriot’s unwanted advances. He shan’t be doing that again.”
Rhombus scowled. “Now wait just a—”
“Shut up.” Caballeron flicked his tail, bringing himself close to Sweetie’s cage. He nodded to her glowing horn. “Don’t waste your energy. There’ll be light soon enough.”
He stood beside the pool to address the both of them. “Ahuizotl has demanded an audience with the both of you. I suggest you cooperate to avoid unnecessary injuries.”
“Yeah.” Scootaloo landed hard and flared her lavender-colored wings. “Yeah, how about no? How about you—?” Her ears leaped up as the hair on her neck rose. “What was that name you said?”
Caballeron’s cigarette carried a soft-glowing arc from one side of his face to the other. “Ahuizotl.”
Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. “What, like the Daring Do bad guy?”
“Please don’t say that name.” Caballeron rubbed beneath the brim of his hat. “Just come quietly.”
“No really.” Sweetie Belle caused her horn to glow all the brighter. The bright, green light coated Caballeron in a sickly pallor. “Owie… owie… That monster is from a kid’s book, right?”
“Um.” Scootaloo’s throat bobbed. “Um, Sweetie Belle?”
Caballeron kicked a pebble into the pool. His reflection was distorted by the splash, waving and stretching. “The monster is no fantasy, no children’s tale. He is as real as any of us. He wants to see you badly enough to force my hoof into all this.” He spat into the water and turned his attention to the door. “I suggest you do as he says.”
“But…” Sweetie Belle looked to Scootaloo. “What?”
Scootaloo tapped her hooves together. “Soooo… Rainbow Dash told me this funny story one time. Like, there’s actually a pony named Daring Do.”
Sweetie frowned. “What.”
“Yeah, and all her villains?” Scootaloo waved at Caballeron, who stood stone-faced and silent. “Totally real, too.”
“What?” Sweetie gave Caballeron a double-take, following it up with a glare at Rhombus. “What the heck?”
Rhombus snickered. “You know, that reaction never gets old.”
“Shut up.” Caballeron turned an ear, snuffing his cigarette into the dirt. “They’re coming.”
Sweetie Belle lay on the floor, perhaps from of some instinct to keep herself out of sight. It was pitiful, she figured, but she felt just the slightest bit better. Hoofsteps rattled from the corridor beyond the door. A cloaked figure lead a line of ponies—earth ponies all—through the entrance. The ponies were coated in paint, spiraling designs and jagged patterns. They spread out to fill every corner of the room, leveling spears at their captives.
Kiln took up the rear, coming alongside Caballeron and Rhombus. He brought his brows together and shook his head. “This is when we sell our souls, Poni.”
“Hush.” Caballeron lowered his head, glaring at the cloaked pony out of the corner of his eye. “Let them do their work.”
The cloaked figure threw his purple hood back. His face was painted in a similar design to his fellows, with solid green around his eyes and yellow bars across his cheeks. His cape was trimmed with blood-red, the seams lined with gold thread.
Beneath the paint, Sweetie could see that he was an old pony. ‘Granny Smith’ old. His neck was sagging with loose skin, and his eyes were foggy and pale. He spoke words that Sweetie had never heard before, and she was pretty sure a pony’s throat was physically unable to make the sort of strange, throaty, garbled noises he was spewing.
The bars of her cage came to life. Green returned to the deadwood. Buds sprouted along their lengths. The lengthy trunks wriggled from the ceiling to the floor, like an octopus squirming through a sunken hulk. Sweetie screamed, scooting herself to the middle of the cell. The two bars in front of her, now living vines more than anything, parted and retracted from the ceiling. They formed a round doorway in the cage, and the pony beckoned her out with a hoof.
She felt a spearhead nudge her in the back. She felt it prudent to step through the gap before she was skewered.
The cloaked pony spoke another incantation. The vines returned to their placed, becoming firm and dead once more. He pulled the hood over his eyes and spoke to the painted ponies. “Take the prisoners to the audience chamber.”
His bitter, milky gaze chilled her to the bone. “Caballeron, you will accompany them.”
“Will the surprises never cease?” Caballeron nodded to his cohorts and took his place at the rear of the procession. Kiln and Rhombus eased themselves into place at his side, their ears low and their tails hiked.
Sweetie Belle bumped shoulders with Scootaloo as they were shuffled along at spearpoint. “You can’t be serious about the Daring Do thing, can you? Do you realize how crazy it sounds?”
“Crazier than being kidnapped by a murderous cult?” Scootaloo tried to spread a wing and nudge one of the muscle-bound painted ponies away, but the stallion nudged back with the butt of his weapon. “It’s sort of an open secret among the higher-ups in the military. Since Rainbow Dash bears an Element, I guess that puts her pretty high up.”
Sweetie Belle shook her head. Her glasses slipped down her nose. “And she told you why?”
“’Cuz sisters talk about awesome stuff like this.” Scootaloo gave Sweetie a grin that seemed to be more bravado than happiness. “And I swore on my pinions I’d never tell.”
Sweetie looked back to see Caballeron looking right at her. She wondered if that was as creepy as the fact that Rhombus had never let Scootaloo leave his sight. “So all the books and movies and stuff are…”
“Autobiographies.” Scootaloo tilted her head. “Kinda. Historical fiction? Yeah, that’s it. Historical fiction. Embellished reality.”
The walls were smooth, carved and polished. Arches of stone blocks stood at even intervals, on which torches were mounted. Heavy drum beats rumbled through the hallways and tunnels. Leading them towards what Sweetie could only assume was the central room in the maze. Chanting joined the din, striking her to the core with cold shivers.
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“It’ll be cool,” Scootaloo said in a hushed whisper. Her head swiveled every which way, her ears tilting to listen to what she couldn’t see. Her grin fell by the second as her wings vibrated against her sides. “Daring Do’s gonna come save us. With a whole army behind her. And, like, the Elements of Harmony, too. So, Rainbow Dash’s gonna be there. We’re cool. Totally cool.”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Be still,” the cloaked pony said. “You shall speak only when spoken to. Otherwise you shall merely listen. When the Great God Ahuizotl speaks, all must take heed.”
Scootaloo snorted. “Yeah, right.” She was rewarded with a jab in the side, sharp enough that the spear drew a trickle of blood. “Ow! Watch where you point that thing!”
“Enough of your nonsense.” The cloaked pony stared straight forward, waving the painted pony off. “You invite the wrath of our Lord of the Sun.”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
The chant reached a fever pitch as they drew upon the end of the hallway. The drum’s frantic tattoo climaxed in a rumble like thunder. Hooves stomped, voices screeched, and one final wail was heard before all fell silent.
The rounded room was dark, with the only light coming from the torches lining the single curving wall. Painted ponies stood on a ledge, three meters high, which ran across the entire circumference. A drum the size of a pony hung from the wall to the right of the entrance. In the middle of the room there lay a large stone block, blank save for the aged cracks that slithered across its surface.
A throne carved from the same stone as the cavern walls sat opposite the entrance, empty.
Sweetie Belle shivered. Cold, tired, hurt, hungry, and the sole focus of a completely unwelcome audience. The expression was the same for all of them: Cold disdain. Judging her as something inferior. Something unwanted.
Then why was she even there?
The cloaked pony stepped forward and lowered his hood. His ragged, oily mane flopped against his neck. “Almighty Ahuizotl, Rightful Raiser of the Sun, Lord of the Jungle, God of the Painted Ones. Your loyal servant Dissero speaks. We have brought you the mare Sweetie Belle exactly as you desired. Alive and unharmed.”
Sweetie Belle held her breath. The throne held no sign of life. The stone block was plain and unchanging. She chanced a glance at the ceiling and saw nothing but smooth bricks. It was impossible to shake the unease flowing through every fiber of her being, oozing from every pore.
Now there’s a nasty analogy, she thought, but still accurate.
She heard a faint splash. She tilted her head to look past the massive block, and found a small pool like the one in their prison.
The water exploded in a fine spray that spread across the entire room. Sweetie flinched back, but found herself completely dry. She glanced at Scootaloo to see her holding back the deluge around them, her wings spread and shimmering with the magic of the pegasi. Scootaloo winked and let the wall of water drop.
Sweetie smiled back. When she returned her thoughts to the pool, any hope for relief was murdered in an instant.
At first, it was merely an oppressive, dark shape. A thing that haunted her in nightmares and lurked on the edge of perception. When it stood up, and she saw the rippling sinew, the jagged grimace, the fierce claws, the piercing yellow, glowing eyes, it became something worse. It became unavoidable, horrifying reality.
A paw smashed the floor beside her. A head the size of a pony grimaced down at her, opening a mouth with more teeth than a family of sharks.
The cloaked pony, Dissero, drew to Ahuizotl’s side. He glared at Sweetie with his milky eyes, his mouth a sinister sneer. “You, Sweetie Belle, have the power to unite hearts with song. Ahuizotl desires this power be made of use to him.”
Sweetie Belle shook her head, turning away. “No! No way I’m helping him with anything.”
Dissero’s sunken eyes flashed. He reached back to slap Sweetie across the face. “You dare speak against the Al—”
Ahuizotl spoke with a bellow. “Dissero!”
The cloaked pony shut his mouth and all but shrunk back into his cape. He bowed his head until it was nearly touching the ground. “Master.”
Ahuizotl’s tail snaked around. She nearly gagged when she saw it was tipped by a hand with four grasping fingers. The monster extended the index finger and beckoned her forth.
A beam of brilliant white shot down from the ceiling. Sweetie took a gulp of breath and eased a hoof up.
“She doesn’t have to do anything you say, scum-wad!” Scootaloo broke free from the Painted Ones. She shot forward with hooves swinging. “Daring Do’s gonna—!”
The monster flicked the wrist of his tail. Scootaloo spun out of control and crashed against the side of the stone block. She groaned and clutched the side of her face, tears streaming across her cheeks.
“Scoot—!” Sweetie Belle reached for her friend, but was stopped by the mighty paw of her captor. Her mouth hung open at his size, his strength, the wicked glee in his eyes.
Ahuizotl stood over Scootaloo, his teeth dripping with ichorous drool. “Daring Do is an aging mare. Weakening by the day. Slowing by the hour. Dying by the second. If you expect her to rescue you, you shall be sorely mistaken.”
He grinned his jagged, hunger-filled smile, placing a paw against his chest. “She could never keep up with the might of her immortal foe.”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
“Ahuizotl!”
He held up a paw to silence his sycophants. Ahuizotl gestured with a finger once again in the most unnerving way possible. “Step into the light.”
Sweetie did so. While normally her coat would all but sparkle in the bright light, the hours spent underground left her dulled and ragged. She resisted the urge to tuck her tail between her legs, but only just so. “W-what do you want with me?”
He leaned close, and she smelled decay on his breath. “I seek to use your gift for a greater purpose than mere radio stardom. With your help, Sweetie Belle, I shall become…”
He lifted his forelegs and shouted at the top of his lungs. “A god!”
Scootaloo snorted with laughter, spitting something out onto the ground. “You? A god? The god of what? Boring monologues?”
Ahuizotl looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “That’s very funny.”
His tail snapped out and snagged her underneath her chin. He lifted her by the neck, growling deep in his throat. “I will become God of the Sun! Lord of Equestria—of the world! I will take the rightful throne denied me time and again by that oaf Celestia, and that fool Daring Do!”
A ruffle of feathers near the rear of the procession stole Sweetie’s attention. Rhombus surged forward, his face a picture of handsome, fiery fury. “Someone has to stop this—!”
A spear butt to the gut sent him to his knees.
Sweetie Belle stumbled out of the light, sending magic flaring through her fairy strings. Her horn lit with whatever spell she could think of—a telekinetic bubble. She snagged a rock and tossed it at Ahuizotl, who batted it away effortlessly. “Put her down!” she screamed.
“Be still!”
The volume of Ahuizotl’s voice caused her heart to skip a beat. She sat down hard, her magic squelched, her breath stolen.
Ahuizotl climbed atop the stone block, Scootaloo struggling in his grasp. He placed his paw across his chest in a tight fist. “You, Sweetie Belle, have a voice that absolutely captivates the heart. Who spreads love through a crowd with a mere word. The very sound of your voice unites hearts.”
He placed a claw on either side of Scootaloo’s head and squeezed until she yelped. “I require a source of great power, Sweetie Belle, and pony hearts shall supply that power.”
“No.” Sweetie stomped her hooves. “No! I will not! I refuse! There’s nothing you can do to change that!”
Ahuizotl raised an eyebrow. “Indeed not?”
He smiled at Scootaloo, tickling her beneath the chin. “And you, dear Scootaloo. Your medical records state that you are the most powerful pegasus mage ever studied. How did you come to be so very lucky?”
Scootaloo pressed against the vice-grip of his fingers, scowling with all her might. “Clean living, little-g. What gives, anyway? What makes you think you’re a god? I don’t sing songs about you every Sunday Sunrise.”
Ahuizotl chuckled. “Am I not? Do I not have worshipers? Do I not have an immortal lifespan? Do I not have powers far beyond normal ken?”
He raised his paws to the ceiling. “Then please, explain; what separates a god—” A thunderous crash echoed through the room as he brought his fists down on the slab. “—from a mere immortal?”
The Painted Ones glanced at one another, none daring to speak. Dissero receded into the mass, leaving Sweetie alone in a sea of unfamiliar, hostile bodies. She could only stare as Ahuizotl laughed, swaying Scootaloo back and forth, his claws grinding into the stone.
“Omnipotence?
Celestia raises the sun
With a flick of her horn every morn
Yet holiness lacks
In her meaningless tasks
When it comes to gods, she isn’t one
”Omniscience?
Luna can read all your thoughts
When she writes your dreams every night
Yet mistakes, they were made
A deep price was once paid
And infallible, that she is not”
He drew a sword from his back; a large, curved saber, bedecked with a red pommel stone. He spun it through the air and caught it with his other paw, whirling with a flourish.
“Their followers are frenzied and ever so quick
To shower with praises and lauds
But if they aren’t divine, I’m left groaning to ask…”
“What
Is the price
Of a god?”
Scootaloo’s eyes widened as the blade reflected the white light from the ceiling. “Keep that thing away from me.”
“Don’t worry,” Ahuizotl said. “I’m not going to kill you.”
He threw the saber. It buried itself into the seat of his throne, half the length of its blade. The stone cracked in a spidering pattern, leaving the metal unmarred.
“Omnipresence?
Discord makes physics decry
The worth of its forsaken birth
But a tender heart hides
Beneath bluster and lies
Mere mortals can constrain his mirth
“He wouldn’t dare try to step out of line
Not even for thunderous applause
And deep in my mind I know he’s not divine, so…”
His voice grew quiet as he caressed Scootaloo’s cheek. She tried to bite him to no avail.
“What
Is the price
Of a god?”
His tail swept down to slam her back against the harsh stone. She let out a gasp, not having the breath for a scream. Sweetie Belle cried out and rushed forward, but was stopped by a wall of spears.
Ahuizotl held Scootaloo down with his paw while his tail snaked to his back. He drew a dagger from a sheath, letting its curved blade hover near Scootaloo’s throat. The tip touched her neck and slid to the middle of her chest, leaving a scratch but never breaking skin.
“Princess Twilight is an arrogant fool
Squandering powers obscene
With a single command Cadenza would rule
And become some untouchable fiend
“King Andean Ursagryph
A mighty warrior is he
But motivationally there’s a rift
Betwixt him and me!”
Scootaloo’s eyes widened. She looked down at the dagger and back to Ahuizotl’s mad yellow eyes. Tears welled up as she whispered, the barest of breaths taking her full effort. “Sweetie… Sweetie, whatever he says, don’t—”
Ahuizotl plunged the dagger. Light—bright, piercing, brilliant light—poured from Scootaloo’s chest. The monster reached through the glow and brought forth a purple gemstone, one that perfectly matched her eyes. Trails of magic wound their way from the stone to the dagger in her chest. Ahuizotl tugged, but the gem refused to pull away.
A roar erupted from the depths of his core. He pulled at the heart with all his might, his eyes flashing, his tail thrashing.
“Tonight you shall be mortified!
Overflowing with magic inside!
Glowing, pouring from within your hide!
Leaving all who will see terrified!
And truly I’ll be deified!”
Scootaloo turned her head to look right at Sweetie Belle. Her lips shuddered. “Don’t do it—”
A final tug pulled the heart away from Scootaloo. She fell mute, staring into the middle distance, her eyes lifeless and blank. The heart glowed all the brighter, striking Ahuizotl with thousands of tiny thunderbolts. His fur rose on end, prickling and crackling from the overabundant magic.
“What
Is the price
Of a god?”
Sweetie Belle ran. She ran as hard as she could and slammed her hooves into the side of the block. She reached as far as she could, sheer desperation lending her the strength needed to climb up. She fell beside Scootaloo and cupped her head. “Scootaloo! No! Scootaloo!”
Scootaloo continued to stare at nothing.
Sweetie screamed, holding her friend close. “What did you do to her? What did you do?”
Ahuizotl tucked the dagger away, holding the heart in the palm of his hand. “A pony is made up of three vital portions. There is the body, there is the mind, and there is the heart. If any one of these things is missing, or damaged, the pony ceases to be as they are.”
The magic tumult from the heart faded. A ripple of magic washed from the core, causing Ahuizotl to wince. “I separated Scootaloo’s heart from her mind and body. She is yet alive…” He tilted his head with a knowing smile. “For now.”
He climbed from the block to make his way to the throne. He wrenched the sword from its spot and returned it to his scabbard. He eased himself into the stone chair, which seemed a bit too small for him. “Though she can process information, though she must eat and sleep to survive, her memories of you, and Equestria, and all emotions thereof, are intrinsically tied to this heart. Her very spirit.”
Sweetie hugged Scootaloo tight, running her hoof over her friend’s wings. “It’s gonna be alright…”
“You shall do as I command, Sweetie Belle.” Ahuizotl extended a claw to tap against the heart. “Or I shall make Scootaloo’s very existence nothing but pain. Suffering. A loveless anguish.”
He nodded to Dissero. “So let it be written.”
Dissero snapped a sharp salute, his hoof held out from his body. “So let it be done!”
Painted Ones grasped her around the forelegs, pulling her away from Scootaloo’s body. Dissero barked his orders from the base. “Bring the pegasus to the mines and put her to work. Take the unicorn—” He spat the word. “—back to her cell to await the whim of Ahuizotl.”
Sweetie felt numb from her head to her toe. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Her heart was too light. Her mind was too foggy. Her legs were boneless and weak. She was dragged away, her eyes locked tight on Scootaloo as the pegasus stood at a command from Dissero.
As she was lead to the hallway, she heard one last breath from Ahuizotl.
“What could ever
Be the price
But a spotless sacrifice?
“That
Is the price
Of… A… God…”
***
Cadence—along with Celestia, Luna, and Chrysalis’ entourage—had the tremendous honor of joining in the proceedings. The long, boring, legalistic proceedings. The minutia of governance. The cherry-picking of provinces and states.
“In conclusion,” Celestia said an hour too late, “is that the Badlands would receive aid in agriculture, weather control, and trade. You and I would work together very closely as we get you off the ground in economic terms. The changelings will be the most wealthy they have ever been.”
Chrysalis II shuffled in her seat, sending a glance at her advisors. “And Equestria would station a garrison of soldiers in our lands.”
“It’s hardly a unique thing.” Celestia spoke with a soft, yet strong voice that Cadence envied every time she heard it. “Equestrian Soldiers can be found all over the world. I make sure to keep tabs on them personally to see that they only act as they are mandated. Peace keeping. Search and rescue. Security.”
Cadence glanced across the room. They were in one of Canterlot Castle’s stateliest ballrooms, with bright, golden chandeliers and majestic tapestries. Heroes of old looked down on them with smiles. Grand deeds were celebrated with artwork. No less than five different portraits of Celestia from four different artistic eras were on display.
Andean watched from a balcony, as he had been invited. His beak clicked as he ruminated, his talons combing through his beard of feathers. He growled at Celestia’s words, enough so that Cadence felt the noise rumble through the air.
“I will have to consider this proposal. With my advisors.” Chrysalis II brushed a silky lock of her pink mane behind her ear. Her strange eyes flitted from face-to-face. “I… I did not intend to make the changelings part of Equestria. Just… just allies with it.”
“I understand completely.” Celestia smiled, spreading her soft-glowing wings ever-so-slightly. “We do not seek to infringe on your rights as a sovereign power, but to assist in your integration with the world at large—”
She paused, her ear cocked at a sound Cadence couldn’t make out. She turned her head and let out a tiny murmur. “Actually,” Celestia said, “perhaps now is a good time for you and your advisors to discuss your options. Perhaps we could reconvene in, say, two hours?”
“That.” Chrysalis II nodded. “That would be acceptable. I shall see you then.”
“Please enjoy the refreshments I’ve had brought to your room.” Celestia stood up and bowed at the neck. Chrysalis did the same and allowed herself to be ushered out by the Royal Scheduling Advisor, Natter.
“That was abrupt.” Cadence glanced up at the balcony. Andean had vanished. “What’s wrong, Aunt Celestia?”
“My emergency line.” Celestia’s horn lit up to open a window. A trail of smoke, sparkling with magical embers, swirled into the room and halted before her. They shifted and whirled into the shape of a scroll, which landed softly in her hoof. “Spike’s not one to send a message if it’s not something that requires my attention immediately.”
She gave Luna a wink. “At least, not in recent years.”
Luna nodded, stretching her four legs in time with her wings. “What does our young friend have to say? I know Twilight was working on a new breakthrough in vocalizing technology, but—”
“No.” Celestia held up a wing, hushing them. “No, it’s not that. Something’s wrong.”
She lowered the letter, her eyes unfocused. Her mouth worked quietly for several moments. “Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo are missing. Kidnapped, according to eyewitnesses.”
“What?” Luna’s eyes flashed with pure magic. Her hooves ground into the marble floor. “Who would dare? Who would dare to—?”
“He’s not sure. He—the witness mentioned the name Caballeron.” Celestia shook her head and folded the letter up. A spell turned the paper into dust, which drifted away on the breeze from the open window. “Is Captain Carrot still in Canterlot?”
Luna nodded. “She should still be here, yes.”
“Have her go to Ponyville and question the witnesses.” Celestia produced a new sheet of paper to scribble her notes on with a scribing spell. “When Daring Do arrives, I’ll put her on the case as well. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and if Caballeron’s around, Daring will best know how to deal with him.”
Cadence shrugged. “Bringing the old team back together again?”
“Blankety Blank makes three.” Celestia rolled the page up and shunted it to Nowhere. “And I expect they’ll seek out your mother-in-law’s input.”
Luna held her head high, her mouth a grim line chiseled in solid rock. “The Knights of Harmony ride again, and may the Creator have mercy on the souls who stand in their way.”
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For some reason, I kind of imagined parts of Ahuizotl's song (namely the verses that start with Omnipresence) having a beat and tune similar to parts of the TF2 musical Medic!. (The actual musical, not the song from the soundtrack of the game itself.)
Of course, Rainbow Dash leaked this to Scootaloo...
I find myself interested in how Spike reacts to Aunt Yearling... given that he might already suspect that Daring Do is real... and that he's going to meet Carrot Care again!
And Apple Bloom isn't there yet and I bet she will be. And Button is probably about to move to the next stage of his determination, the one of realizing he wants to change!
I think the term for what my mind is doing is "brimming with possiblities."
Of course, things are far worse for Sweetie and Scootaloo... and that worries me.
This was pretty cool. I have to ask though, if part of the reason the bars were so tight was because they were wet, how come Scootaloo didn't just, you know, unwet them? And that's only if she could use the water itself to burst them apart.
I still say Scoots would have had a chance if she had been willing to grab Ahuizotl's blood, but it looks like she won't be able to even try now. I like how her heart kept trying to zap him, but once it lost the mind and memories of who he was "she" stopped going full force. On the upside, it sounds like so long as body, mind, and spirit remain unbroken they can always put them back together again.
I'm really curious how you intend to have Button Mash join the adventure. I get the sense that he will end up joining the Knights on this quest, but he doesn't really have skills to contribute. He might sneak after them, but that's a little too similar to "If You Weren't Afraid". Like I said, I'm looking forward to seeing how this goes.
Did Rhombus just try to protest Scoot's treatment? He still deserves to get his tail handed to him, but it's nice to know he's not completely evil. Just a really, really, big jerk. Actually, a better fate for him would be for him to find a girl besides Scootaloo who he'll stay with. Best of both worlds there.
I noticed parts of your song were in limerick form, and I tried reading it as such.
Thanks for the chapter, looking forward to more!
Man was that an exciting scene! Up 'til now I had been thinking "oh, I can't wait to see that whacky, bumbling villain Ahuizotl, I wonder if he'll have his little kitten with him when he arrives." Well this Ahuizotl is not whacky or bumbling at all. Great work with the detail that this Water-dog is amphibious. The lore of the Painted Ones is fascinating too.
Button raised the alarm, significantly hastening the pursuit of Caballeron. He also got a name and description of the attacker. Without Buttons people would not have noticed they were missing for days, let alone who took them.
I love this sequence! Missed "Alohomora" though.
Meh, not that impressed. If wingblades are such an awesome weapon, then they'll train the Royal Guard in how to use them. I do hope to see Rumble introduced to Rhombus.
Saying the P-word in front of minors! I think this is Caballeron's moral horizon moment.
I just realized, Poni probably has to go around disguised in Equestria, just like Daring Do does. I wonder if he has some version of AK Yearling, a harmless non-criminal identity he buys train tickets and rents hotel rooms with.
This was SO COOL! I can't really think of anything to compare it to, but Ahuizotl is officially the new Big Bad.
Well that's weird. What did he think was going to happen?
The one thing I'm disappointed in was that I was sure Celestia would take this moment to go into an exposition-y speech on Poni's checkered past. Aw well, I suspect that will come soon enough. When Daring Do is speaking to Twilight Velvet, she will need to give every biographical detail possible to help find this fiend!