Truthseeker

by RB_

Celestial Checkers

Lyra opened her eyes. A field of stars greeted her sight. The ground beneath her was cold and soft.

“Hello, young one.”

Groaning, she sat up. She blinked.

“Apporoth?”

The god of truth nodded. He was sat beside her, his eight legs curled up beneath him. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Lyra rubbed her forehead. “So, uh… am I dead?”

She looked around at her surroundings, an endless, moonless night’s sky stretched over rolling hills of grass and greenery. “This doesn’t look like the old place,” she said.

“Worry not; we are merely elsewhere.”

“It’s nice.”

Apporoth smiled. “Thank you. No, you are not dead. If you were, it would not be me who would be greeting you.” He stood up, slowly. “Come, young one; walk with me a while.”

They set off together, along the hillside.

“So, then…?”

“You are unconscious. Your friends are taking your body to a hospital as we speak.”

Lyra winced. “And how is my body?”

“It has been better. You’ll live.”

“And Pinkie and Winter Bell, they’re okay?”

“They fared better than you did.”

A gentle breeze blew past, jostling the ends of Lyra’s mane and carrying with it a pair of voices:

“Is she breathing?”

“Uh… uh…”

“Bloo, is she breathing!?”

“Uh, y-yes, I think so!”

“Lyra, hold on, just hold on Lyra, we’ll get you help, just hold on…”

Lyra shivered. The breeze passed.

The two walked on in silence for a time.

“Where are we going?” Lyra asked. Apporoth gestured towards the horizon, and something Lyra couldn’t quite make out in the low light of the stars.

“Nowhere in particular, but there will do,” he said. “I know you have questions, young one. Ask them now, before we arrive.”

“I have three,” Lyra said. “Where have you been, why are you here, and what is H—”

“I have been watching,” he said, “and I am here because I cannot answer your third question, as much as I would like to. And when I say ‘cannot’, know that I really do mean that I am unable to, not that I am choosing not to.”

“That… doesn’t make any sense,” Lyra said. They were coming closer to the crest of their hill, now, and the indistinct shapes from earlier had begun to take shape. A trio of standing stones, formed of flecked marble and arranged roughly equidistant from one another, reached up and into the sky. “You’re you.”

Apporoth stopped just in front of the frontmost stone. “Indeed. That is part of the problem.”

“And that problem is?”

“That would be me.”

Just the voice itself was enough to cause Lyra discomfort, a sudden sense of wrongness that shot down her spine as her blessing activated. But when the speaker strolled into view, seeming to materialize from around the other side of the marble, the sensation worsened. It was as if his presence itself was a lie.

“Lyra, this is my brother, Torropoth,” Apporoth said, “God of Falsehoods.”

“I apologize,” he said. “This must be somewhat uncomfortable for you.”

Lyra grit her teeth. “Just a little.”

“I’ll endeavor to keep my presence here to a minimum, then.”

Torropoth was slightly smaller than his brother, and skinnier. A straw hat with a red and blue band was set crookedly on his head, so that it hung slightly over his left ear. He spoke quickly, and his smile matched his hat.

“Apporoth, I don’t understand,” Lyra said.

“Then allow me to elucidate things for you, my dear,” Torropoth said. He said it as one word: ‘m’dear’. “You see—”

Apporoth cut him off with a hoof. “She asked me.”

He turned so he was facing Lyra. “Young one,” he said, “You aren’t going to like what I’m about to tell you.”

“But you’re going to tell me anyway,” Lyra said.

“Would you prefer me not to?”

“Of course not.”

Apporoth smiled. “Atta girl.

“Lyra, when I gave you my blessing, you became my champion. And I became your patron. Effectively, that makes you ‘mine’, at least in the eyes of the gods.”

“…Like an employee,” he added, seeing Lyra’s expression.

“Continue,” she said.

“Unfortunately, you being in my employ like this opens us up to certain complications.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “And those are…?”

“Other gods can champion mortals against you.”

It took a few moments for what Apporoth was saying to click.

“So… so then, so then Hollyleaf, is…”

Her eyes darted from Apporoth to Torropoth. “Hollyleaf… is yours?”

His grin grew a little more crooked. “Indeed. I have chosen to become her patron, though she is entirely unaware of the fact.”

Lyra’s mouth opened slightly, closed, and opened again.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why?”

“Hm? Why what?” Torropoth asked.

“Why would you do that? She—” the words were coming out just fine now— “she enslaved the entire town against their wills, she attacked Twilight’s friends, she just attacked me! She tried to kill me, to kill all of us! And who knows what else she’s been up to—she’s a monster!”

She planted her hoof. “Why would you want to help that?”

Torropoth chuckled. He moved closer to Lyra and brought his face down to hers, looking straight into her eyes, grinning all the while. “For the same reason Apporoth wanted to bless you in the first place, m’dear: entertainment!”

Lyra recoiled. Her discomfort seemed to grow stronger as the God of Falsehoods drew closer.

“Entertainment?”

“Yes!” Torropoth exclaimed. He took a step back, raised his frontmost hooves into the air. “Do you have any idea how thoroughly dull the life of a god can be?” he said. “An eternity of free time, but how to spend it?

“There was a time when we had duties to occupy us, but those are long passed. Equestria has how many alicorns now? Five? Five and three thirds? Ponies need us like they need the old queens of Unicornia, and most don’t remember that we ever existed in the first place!”

He drew close to her again, and she stepped away. “No m’dear, this, you, are a prime opportunity. One that doesn’t come around very often, and I intend to capitalize on that opportunity for all that I can.”

“So this is just a game to you?” Lyra asked, horrified.

“Precisely!” He swept Apporoth into an uncomfortable side-hug. “A grand game between gods, what could be more captivating? Surely you can relate.”

He leaned forward, his grin widening even further. “That is why you entered your current line of work, isn’t it?”

Apporoth pushed his brother away. “Enough of this. You’ve said your bit.”

“Indeed I have, brother.” He stepped towards the standing stone, turned, and tipped his hat. “I expect big things, m’dear. Please, give us a challenge.”

And with that said, he departed back the way he’d came.

Lyra slumped as the effect of his presence faded. She turned to look at Apporoth.

“Is this a game to you, too?”

“Not anymore,” he said. He offered her a hoof for support, which she took. “It stopped being a game as soon as you could lose.”

“And if we lose?”

He grimaced. “We lose if you die.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence.

“And how do we win?”

“You prove definitively that you can defeat his champion,” Apporoth said, “to the satisfaction of the judge.”

“And that is?”

“Her,” Apporoth said, pointing to the top of the closest stone. Lyra followed his gesture.

Something sat perched atop the stone like a crow. Lyra couldn’t see what it was, only that it was black in colour, and that its starlight-reflecting eyes were trained on her.

“Our mother, Sharasaad. Apparently, she volunteered.”

The thing on the stone turned and fled. A glitter of gold caught the light as it moved. Something primal within Lyra caused her to shiver, though she couldn’t say what or why.

“It seems like I have a lot more on the line here than you do,” Lyra said.

“I don’t have a lot to lose,” Apporoth said. “You’re about it.” He sighed. “I really didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t think it would.”

“Well, it did,” Lyra said.

“It did.” He sat down on the cool grass, and Lyra joined him. “There’s more bad news, I’m afraid—although it’s good news, as well.”

“Just tell me,” Lyra said.

“Because I gave you my blessing when I took you on as my champion, my brother is allowed to give a boon to his champion as well. But before you worry,” he said, cutting Lyra off at the pass, “I already know what it is, and it is not a blessing to work against yours.”

“It’s not?”

“It’s not. Instead, he’s used his domain to cloud mine. I cannot see anything his champion does, nor can I know anything about them. Everything I did know about them has been hidden from me, as well.”

“And that’s why you couldn’t answer my question about Hollyleaf earlier,” Lyra said.

“I didn’t even know that name existed until you said it to me. And being the god of Truth, that is a very unpleasant thing to be aware of. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you except as a mentor.”

“I’d kinda figured that,” Lyra said. “You don’t seem like the active type.”

“You should have seen me in my youth,” he replied, which earned him a weak smile.

Lyra sighed and thought for a moment. “So if Hollyleaf didn’t receive a blessing, then… how did she come back from the dead? But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“No,” he said, “but I can tell you with absolute certainty that that isn’t Torropoth’s doing. However she’s managed this, it is of her own will and means.”

“Another mystery to add to the pile,” Lyra said. She rolled onto her back so she could have a better view of the sky. She’d never been much one for astronomy, but something told her this wasn’t the same night sky she was familiar with. Another breeze blew past.

“Redheart, prep a table!”

“Yes, Doctor!”

“Is Miss Lyra going to be okay?”

“She’ll be fine—Nurse, in here, quickly!—she’ll be just fine. I promise.”

“We’ll get through this,” Apporoth said.

“We will,” she said.

A thought struck her. “Hey, how long do we have before I have to wake up?”

“Some time yet,” he said, “though I would recommend you not stay too long after your body is healed. Your friends will worry about you.”

“Can you show me what Bon Bon’s doing right now?”

“Of course,” he said.

With a whisper, the ground fell away. The stars shifted, sorting themselves into more familiar patterns as the moon rose into the sky and clouds drifted into view. A new floor faded into existence, abundantly verdant with a carpet of leaves and foliage. Trees unfolded from the ground and grew tall over them, blotting out the sky. Insects made lively chatter from their hiding places in the brush.

“I’ll leave out the humidity,” Apporoth said. Lyra nodded, her attention elsewhere.

Movement, through the leaves. She could hear it even over the cacophony of the jungle’s inhabitants, like a wrong note in their symphony. Then, a voice:

“…and if you relied on your brain as much as your brawn, cabot, you might actually make for an effective fighter.”

A sword slashed through part of the curtain of foliage, and through it stepped Fleur, followed closely by Octavia.

Octavia, half-shifted, growled. “I am a lycan. My claws are sharper than most of your swords.”

“And my mind,” Fleur said, “is twice as honed as all of them.”

The rest of the team filed in after them, Bon Bon trailing at the rear. Lyra rolled over, stood up, stretched, and trotted over to them. Her legs passed through the assorted brush as she passed it, some of the higher shoots phasing through her torso and even her face. The experience was less odd than she’d have expected.

She walked in front of Bon Bon, who was trailing at the back of the group.

“Remember, we aren’t actually here,” Apporoth said. “She can’t see you.”

“I know.”

She looked at her friend. Bon Bon’s face was just as troubled as it had been when she’d last seen it, though it was obvious to Lyra she was trying to hide it. “Oh, Bonnie…” she murmured.

Then Bon Bon took a step through Lyra, and it was every bit as odd as she’d have expected.

Comments

[Darkest Dreams]

My one complaint with this story is that I have to wait to read more. I wish time was simultaneous and not linear.

Damn good story, keep it up.

[FanOfMostEverything]

Well now. This is a most interesting wrinkle. Good thing Lyra went home; she's the best equipped to deal with this. Especially since Hollyleaf doesn't realize the game is in session.