Chapter IV – The Coils and the Brands
“No signs were found? No tracks?”
“Some by the line of the trees, but not further on, Your Majesty. The vegetation of the White Tail Woods makes it difficult to locate a path that miss Roseluck took through the thicket itself.”
Bulwark stood at attention alongside his comrades, his expression perfectly inscrutable. It was a mark of a diligent Royal Guard to assume the perfect, emotionless stance. Eyes forward, face firm. Not one move, not one twitch.
Inside his head, however, thoughts ran rampant. Bulwark felt... ashamed! The detachment spent the entire day trying to locate the missing mare in the woodlands, but it had been entirely unsuccessful. Clearly she couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air, but despite the combined effort of all of them...!
No wonder, White Tail Woods were lush, Bulwark could testify. His horn still hurt a little, right midway up it. Damned bushes. It was enough that the unit failed, he did not need to feel it so physically.
This failure seemed to have been only fueling his conviction, however. He felt that he needed to do something about it. And soon.
Right after listening to this vital debriefing between Sergeant Stone Heart and Her Majesty, Princess Twilight Sparkle, that is.
“No signs of any dangerous animals, or worse?” the alicorn asked, clearly worried, but within the royal composure. Her presence was meant to and was inspiring, especially in such sudden and troubling moments. “We must not rule out the possibility that a creature from the Everfree Forest decided to forage in White Tail.”
“Numerous signs of fauna, Your Majesty, but nothing more than that. For the moment our search have not revealed anything that would indicate the presence of a predator or another sort of dangerous, or monstrous creature.”
“Can we absolutely rule out that we are dealing with a creature that leaves little signs of its presence, or can cover both its and Roseluck’s tracks well enough?” the Princess’ stoic response came.
Stone Heart stayed silent for a breath. “No, Your Majesty, but we cannot rule out that miss Roseluck simply lost her way in the dense foliage, especially if she went out at night. She could have been easily turned around.” As the officer continued, the alicorn pondered, trotting in place in deep thought. “I believe this to be but a case of broadening the search area, Your Majesty.”
Princess Twilight looked back up from her deliberations. “Additional rescue parties?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the sergeant affirmed. “And, as it happens, a vast group of citizens of Ponyville approached us and offered their hooves and eyes. We denied them for today, but their aid might make the search quicker indeed.”
Civilian help could be useful here, but would happen tomorrow at its earliest. And, as the Celestia’s sun was disappearing below the horizon, Bulwark’s need of action only grew.
Maybe he could—
“I will converse with the Mayor and we will both come up with a decision soon, sergeant,” came to him the Princess’ voice. “The safety of all of our citizens is our priority and we cannot put them in unnecessary danger.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Stone Heart gave the alicorn a perfect salute.
“Let your ponies rest, sergeant. I will reach out to you soon.”
And with that, the briefing was concluded, with the Princess of Friendship returning to her Castle. Her and the other Elements of Harmony gathered there to discuss this unfortunate disappearance of Miss Roseluck.
“Royal Guard, listen up!” Stone Heart’s voice focused everypony’s attention. “We have done as we were asked and we shall perform better still. Miss Roseluck, wherever she is, shall be found and the Royal Guard will fulfill its promise to always keep the ponies of Equestria out of harm’s way! Make sure to rest and catch some shut-eye! We move out from the Town Square right at sunrise, with, or without civilian support! Dismissed!”
Bulwark joined his colleagues in a group salute, then stood at ease, letting out a long sigh. This was not a great day.
“You look down, Bull.”
He turned his head, spotting Sortie making her way towards him, her lithe, peach, pegasus body quickly evading past their comrades leaving for their homes. The detachment’s scout looked as tired as Bull was, but her gaze was still keen... and her observations were, as per usual, on point.
“Shouldn’t I be? We were told to find the pony, we have not found the pony. I mark it as a washout,” Bulwark admitted, shaking his head and taking off the helmet. His short, coffee brown mane did not really care. And his head still felt shackled, even after he freed it.
The mare took care of her own gear, her cerise mane braided in a short fishtail. “Oh, come on, Bull, you’re the big colt about, don’t be such a downer. We have not found the mare today, we will do so tomorrow and that’s that, pretty much.”
Tomorrow... no, he had to do something this evening still. “Ever the optimist, Tie...”
She laughed. She always had a nice laugh. Honest and colorful. “We are the Royal Guard, Bull, you say it often enough yourself. We do our part and we are good at it. It’s just a matter of time. And motivation, no?”
She came a bit closer, her periwinkle eyes glinting playfully. Something about them... made Bulwark want to stare.
Want to act.
She cocked her head. “Bull? Bull, are you even listening?”
“Huh?” He shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, I am... Just tired, I guess.”
It was past nightfall. He needed to hurry.
The pegasus giggled, unaware of his brooding. “You say that, but it seems to me like you simply saw something you liked, stud,” she teased him, turning around to swat at him with her tail, her lidded eyes still locked on him. “How about we both find some respite after this long day? Together?”
Bulwark blinked and opened his mouth to answer. Sortie was a nice mare. And fit. And he would lie if he were to say that he was not interested in her. He was. A lot. He had been for some time, too.
And yet... he had to be alone after nightfall tonight. He knew he needed it.
“Sorry, Tie, maybe another time,” he finally replied, almost against himself. And much to the pegasus’ visible displeasure.
“Well then suit yourself, Bulwark!” she told him, frowning and trotting away in indignation.
He... should have pursued her, actually. He would not mind some quality time with her at all. But it was past nightfall and he just had to run. He had to.
Bulwark’s house in Ponyville was not grand, but at least it served as a decent place of rest. It was pretty close to the Guard Station, so he usually did not have to worry about being late. And yet tonight he felt that he was.
The unit was unsuccessful, but he needed this success. He needed to try, he knew it, his mind was convinced of that. He had to go to the edge of the White Tail Woods, near the town and... and he would figure out what to do from there. Who knew? Perhaps he was destined to find the mare, or at least something in the thicket that they had all missed before.
Like in a haze, Bulwark quickly trotted to his bathroom, grabbing whatever supplies he possessed. He had to bring soap, shampoo... He had some moisturizer for keeping the mane nice, due to long times under the helmet. There, in the purple bottle. That would do it.
He put everything in a lighter set of saddlebags and reached for the zip...
... why was he taking those items, really?
He blinked and shook his head. He... was going out, to the edge of the forest, past nightfall, to... to...
He looked down into the sack, right at the purple container. Purple... purple and...
Something clicked in Bulwark’s mind. Of course. He was going out to try and find miss Roseluck, right? She would clearly need to freshen up, after spending all of this time in the forest!
He was tired, by Celestia... But tiredness could not stand in the way of duty and obedience.
Locking the door of his house behind him and ensuring that he was on his own in, Bulwark quickly made his way through the less-frequented streets, hoping for his armor not to gather unnecessary attention. He needed the usual protection, but could not have any company for this. It was his attempt at glory, his very own chance to redeem the unit.
The shadows of the night helped him, thankfully, as he crossed the borders of the town and reached the edge of the forest. The night was still clear when he approached the first trees of the Woods. He would have to focus his gaze to see through the leaves and the shades, regardless.
A sudden wave of cold engulfed him, like a harsh, biting wind.
But... but the weather was calm, it was a warm evening, actually. What was this...?
Another pulse of cold. Bulwark’s eyes crossed from the sensation that continued to wash across his mind. He looked around, in confusion, the chill settling in the very middle of his brain.
... where was he...? The... the forest? Why was he here? And... at this hour?
He looked all about. He was in uniform, he had... his saddlebags with him? Why?
A quick motion revealed that they were full of... shampoo bottles?!
Bulwark looked about, his thoughts running rampant, his mind scrambled. Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong! He assumed a battle stance, his training kicking in immediately, his eyes scanning his surroundings.
Two beads of brilliant, kaleidoscopic light that appeared in between the trees caught his attention first.
... and everything made sense again.
***
Roseluck dreamed of joy. Of the wonderful numbness of her limbs, the heat of the pelts keeping her safe... It was heavenly. It was blissful. Her mind was asleep in this deep, profound pleasure and she loved every moment of it. Every slow inhale and exhale that fueled her fantasies and kept her in this heating slumber. She could stay like this forever. She wanted to, until being told otherwise.
Something shifted right next to her and through the veil of sleep she felt scales and muscles slithering across her back. With whatever strength she could muster through the dream, she scooted closer and sank into that familiar and divine touch. She was rewarded with a soft hiss and murmur of approval, which made a groggy smile pass through her lips, just before they parted, limp once more, in the embrace of slumber.
The forelegs of scales encompassed her sides, holding her close. She did not know for how long, but she could not have enough of this wonderful feeling. She was exactly where she belonged. Held safe. Offering her heat.
“Wake up, Roseluck...”
A velvety whisper slithered through her mind and caused it to sober up from the intoxicating warmth. But even this, usually oh so terrible process felt right. Her eyelids fluttered before finally opening, taking in the gentle light of the luminescent minerals. She stretched and let out a yawn, shaking off the sweet lethargy. It helped that a scaled hoof caressed her cheek.
Her Master... telling her to awaken...
And she woke, joyously... and she shuddered, fearfully.
“It is me, my Servant, no need to be alarmed...”
Cyrus’ words resounded through the cavern, though they have not achieved their goal, as consciousness and realization came to Roseluck.
She... she fell again. She lost once more.
Faster this time. With less resistance, instead... instead even with some measure of joy. Divine joy.
She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “Good... morning? Master.”
... her lips added his title to the question without her consent...
“Eve, actually, but greetings to you as well, Roseluck...” The naga’s torso was still pressed to her body, but his size was allowing him to look down upon her. She could see his piercing eyes in the corner of her own. She could see his tender, benevolent smile. “How did you slumber?”
In one moment, with one falsely innocent inquiry, Roseluck’s mind was flooded with emotions and thoughts. One more profound than others.
She had to do better... and worse.
She had to play her part just well enough. She had to avoid being subjected to his Gaze. Whatever it took, she had to be smarter. She had to.
And why...?
Cause she could not lie to herself when he asked. This had been the best sleep she had in years. And the path towards it, being constricted by his scales, feeling her mind succumbing to the trance...
It felt three times more pleasurable than before. Those thoughts, those suggestions in her mind, the ones she had taken notice of before, they seemed... brighter now, even if she had just woken up. Clearer. More... persuasive.
She looked up to meet the naga’s eyes. It seems there was... little room for mistakes from now on.
“It was... amazing, Master. I do not think I have ever slept better. This was more than a reimbursement, it was a gift...”
She weaved her words in between deception and... and those suggestions, whispering to her. Hissing in her mind.
Cyrus looked pleased with her answer, his expression softening still. “But a modicum of my generosity, one born out of experience,” he augustly declared.
Roseluck bit her lip. Slowly, trying not to move away from him out of sheer revulsion, but keep close to his scales, she shifted herself under the pelts, onto her back, pressing her forelegs to her torso.
She figured it would make her look more... submissive...? A blush crept on her muzzle, she did not have to fake it.
“I... am honored to receive your kindness, Master,” she assured him, keeping her side pressed to him. “And... I hope that the heat of my body can be a... sufficient tribute for it...?” she replied, her voice cracking a little at the very end.
The naga, however, seemed to drink from her every word, the fake devotion fueling his satisfaction. “Your veneration and obeisance are welcomed and appraised...” he said, hissing joyously, “... even if I shall not be tricked by them.”
Roseluck felt like the entire warmth of her body just escaped out. “... M... Master?” Her heart stopped when the naga leaned in.
“You shall not entice me to grant you the Gaze quite so abundantly... but feel free to continue in your attempts.”
Roseluck never thought that she would have to hold in the sigh of relief quite so desperately, ever. But... it looked like she had just bought herself at least some time. Some time to find out how to keep resisting both him and the hisses in her head.
“I... ah...” She decided to chuckle bashfully, averting her eyes. “Forgive me, Master, but, please, don’t be surprised.”
The naga laughed as well, his voice slithering all over the cavern. “Oh, not at all, Roseluck. I know the secrets of the Gaze. I am aware of the wonder and bliss it brings to the young ones. And if it is anything like our own exhilaration that comes from branding a mind and claiming another possession, it is of no surprise that you would crave it.” He shifted amongst the pelts. “I want to believe that is pretty much the point, actually.”
She nodded, nervously.
She was never going to crave it. Never. No matter what the... other thoughts wanted.
“But...” Cyrus moved his torso away a little, much to Roseluck’s hidden comfort. “... it is beneficial we are tackling this topic exactly, for I will ask you to advise me, my Servant.”
“A-advise?” she parroted. She was to advise a naga on... on the matters of the Gaze...? It could work like that?
“Yes, indeed...”
Cyrus moved his massive tail, making the muscular, hyacinth coils visible to her and Roseluck bolted up in record time, her mouth opened in dread.
In the prison of scales, held firmly, was an armored guardspony, a unicorn stallion of gray coating. His expression was blank and his, known to Roseluck, laurel eyes were gone, hidden behind the tricolored veil of Cyrus’ enchantment.
“B-Bulwark!”
“Ah, so you are familiar with him. Superb.” Cyrus contorted his body almost unnaturally and brought the trapped pony closer still. “What can you tell me about him?”
Roseluck could only stare at the bewitched stallion, as he remained motionless, without recognition of his situation. She felt the chill settle in her gut. Is... is this how she looked when the naga...? Is this how... how everypony would...?
“My Servant, I requested insight.”
“Uhm, sorry, sorry, Master!” Roseluck quickly replied. No mistakes. “He... he is a member of the Royal Guard, our local unit.”
Cyrus rolled his serpentine eyes. “That much I can trivially deduce myself. First I wish information on him as a member of your community. Does he have relatives? Close friends? Ponies he often sees?”
“Ah... he lives here alone, I think? He is from Whinnyapolis, it’s far away from here. I... I did not see him with anypony else than the other guardsponies, so...”
“That’s moderately beneficial...” the naga assessed, giving the stallion a closer look, his expression inscrutable.
And Roseluck? She felt... distraught. Every piece of knowledge given to Cyrus, it... it scarred her. It made her appear like... like an accomplice! An informant! Like a traitor to her friends in Ponyville!
She hated herself, but... but how could she not tell Cyrus? She had to be a loyal Servant after all.
N-no, that was not right, she was not a slave! She was just trying to save herself, appear faithful, nothing else!
“How... why is he here, Master?” Roseluck escaped from the doubts in her mind with a question.
Cyrus was holding the stallion’s chin and inspecting his muzzle, his eyes squinted. “In some extent because of you, my Servant. He was one of the search party.”
... a search party. “They... they are looking for me...” she mumbled. Of course they were looking for her... And her friends—
“Quicker than I thought. You seem to have an organized, tight community about. Something to bear in mind,” Cyrus stated, lifting Bulwark’s upper lip and checking his teeth. “Hmmm... His bearing is sufficient.”
“He... could not have been alone...” Roseluck did not pay attention to the naga’s examination for the moment. “What... what happened to...?”
“The rest of his team was unaware. The Endless Coils granted me an opportune moment to entrance him, but him alone. And, since it looks like he followed my exact orders, none of the young ones is any wiser.” Cyrus smirked in satisfaction and tightened his coils.
The pained sounds of armor clasping and grinding together caused Roseluck to cringe. She wanted to protest, but felt petrified by Bulwark’s face warping in discomfort, then pain. Despite Cyrus’ body mercilessly pressing against the stallion, the trance seemed to hold firm... And Roseluck could only clench her hooves and grit her teeth, containing the outburst that would only make matters worse.
Thankfully, the naga soon loosened the hold and rubbed his chin. “He is physically ample, resilient. Trained, a spellslinger. His willpower is lacking... and his oaths of servitude might stand strong even under duress...” Cyrus mused. When his eyes landed on Roseluck, she swallowed hard, such was the keenness of them. “Second insight I need, Servant. Is he funny? Or of agile tongue? Can he keep up a conversation?”
“Uh... I... don’t know, really, Master...” she muttered, looking away.
“Hmmm... Ah, very well, I have made up my mind. It shall be a safer choice for the moment anyway.”
Cyrus brought the pony closer to his torso, at the level of his piercing eyes, but Roseluck heard herself asking. “What... are you going to do with him, Master?”
She had to know. She had to be aware of what to expect and how to react.
For Bulwark’s sake as well.
The naga paused and again faced her, his stare sharp, but his expression kind. “Rejoice, Roseluck, for I am going to expand my entourage by elevating this young one. He seems like a useful acquisition. Especially now that your kindred decided to look for you, my Servant. Preparations must be made.”
Preparations? “Will you be... employing him as a Servant as well, Master?”
“No, that is what I have decided against...” Cyrus answered, glancing at the entranced stallion. “You have embraced your role and are doing your best to understand it. But him? A protector’s oath is binding in all the cultures, as it should be... Rather than convince him to break it, I prefer to replace it with a more fitting devotion,” he declared imperiously, again assuming his position in before Bulwark. “Yet I have need of him that exceeds simple force of labor... So I will be making him a Slave, as guides me the Hiss of the Coil of Acquisitions.”
“And wh—”
“Be silent, Roseluck.”
She looked down, mumbling an apology. She did not have the strength to contest him. She could only watch... and hope to learn something about this. Something that would help her... and then help others.
She observed in silence, right from the fur pile where she was still sitting. Cyrus leaned towards Bulwark’s muzzle, the poor stallion not reacting until the naga’s eyes filled to the brim with the Gaze. His head followed immediately, but Roseluck instinctively looked away...
... surprised that she had managed to do so with such... ease?
And not the ease of fighting the suggestions in her mind. Those were, unfortunately, holding strong. But... she did not experience any pull of the naga’s magic, even though she saw those three, enchanting and terrifying colors.
Which... which could mean that, unlike that mineral on her yoke... Cyrus had to look directly at somepony to entrance them...? Lock stares with them?
... and... speaking of suggestions and someponies... a peculiar realization came to her. Why was Master not looking at her...? Why was he gifting the Gaze to this... random stallion, he had to capture and force into submission? This future Slave... rather than her, his first, loyal Servant?!
N... no!
Roseluck almost knocked herself on the temple, bringing a hoof up to her head.
No, no, no, those were not the right things to think, those were not—
She shook her head, focusing on what was happening in front of her rather than in her head. Even if it was not in any way better. And was filling that foreign part of her with... envy...
Cyrus’ eyes pulsated with power. She knew that tempo to the spell. That slow, throbbing rhythm that was emitting forth. The naga used that on her when her resistance had already crumbled. She recalled that irresistible pull. This... ecstatic feeling of surrender that accompanied it.
... she wanted that again...
This must have been the very moment that meant being... “elevated” by a naga. A deeper, more profound enchantment, which meant being claimed as a private possession.
... nothing more than a private possession, no matter the title that came with it.
Roseluck was watching Bulwark too. His lips parted and he was breathing heavily, the colors in his eyes reflecting those in Cyrus’ perfectly, without a moment of delay. The stallion was entirely captivated, and his expression was slowly melting into bliss. Into mind-numbing, endless bliss.
... she wanted that again!
She cringed at her own thoughts, and bit the side of her tongue.
After a while, without any warning, Bulwark threw his head back as much as the coils were allowing him, his eyes vibrant with the shackling spell. She could see the muscles of his neck tensing, his expression locked in a soundless scream. He remained in this rigid posture, this paralysis, for a few seconds before falling limp in the naga’s coils, like a loose puppet.
Roseluck grimaced at the stallion’s elated, soft smile. She... she must have looked exactly like that. Defeated... Violated.
... divine...
“You look displeased, my Servant.”
“Uhm!”
Cyrus, still holding the stallion in his scales, had twisted his torso her way and the visible satisfaction on his muzzle from having acquired another retainer was now quickly morphing into dangerous interest.
No mistakes.
“Forgive me, Master...” Roseluck spoke, trying not to pay attention to poor Bulwark, limp and comatose, or her own nagging and alien wants. “It’s... it’s nothing.”
Cyrus cocked an eyebrow. “I might not have the wisdom of a priest, but I know better than to ignore that sentence. Tell me what is on your mind, my Servant. I suppose you were watching quite intently.”
Roseluck’s lips opened before she could react. She, thankfully, managed to stop the honest words of disgust at what she had witnessed.
“I just... this,” she managed to utter in the direction of Bulwark’s motionless body and that soft smile which adorned his face.
The naga titled his head. “ ‘Just this’...?” He looked confused for a moment, his violet eyes going back and forth between the two ponies. “ What do you mean by ‘just this’? ‘This’ this?”
Roseluck had no idea where was his logic going, so, like with her awakening, she decided on a whim to put those treacherous suggestions inside her to good use after all.
“I just felt... I don’t know, Master...” she told him, making sure to put that little pause there and season it with a small pout.
Cyrus’ head tilted the other side. “You... Ah!” Realization must have dawned upon him, for he chuckled warmly. “Now I understand! You are being jealous, my Servant!”
Roseluck was not going to correct him in his mistake, that’s for sure.
... it was not a mistake entirely...
“Forgive me, Master. I am... I guess it is rather nice to be... exclusive?”
The naga hissed in laughter, as his mood was back to merry. “Oh, Roseluck, you are a true treasure. But, you have no need for worry. Your position shall not be endangered by the presence of other courtiers. Nor will I forget to indulge you, it is your right to be taken care of, as befits your role!” He slithered closer and actually cupped her cheek, summoning a vibrant blush from her. “And a naga’s Gaze is indivisible. It does not dilute in the number of young ones subjected to it. As long as I have the warmth in my body to support it and the will in my mind to fight the fatigue, I can use it indefinitely...”
Roseluck did not move back, instead listening carefully to those words. Very, very carefully.
“I... shouldn’t worry, then...?” she sheepishly asked, meeting his stare.
“No,” Cyrus replied. “I do not forget to reward loyalty. Not anymore...”
Before Roseluck could inquest this declaration, a faint mumble came from behind the two.
Bulwark was shaking his head, blinking constantly, with every second dispelling the magic in his eyes. He appeared befuddled about his situation at first, but when Cyrus turned his torso around, all the uncertainty morphed into relief.
And Roseluck hurt on the inside.
“Master...” Bulwark spoke, his voice tired, but clear.
“He has awoken, good,” the naga replied majestically, slowly releasing the stallion from the scaly prison. “Is he ready to serve?”
Bulwark almost fell down onto the floor, without the support of the coils, but it looked like he could still move on his own. He stretched his limbs and saluted slowly, his knees shaking a little.
“I am ready, Master.”
There were no signs of the Gaze anymore, no. But Roseluck felt her lower lip shake a little. Bulwark was...
“Miss Roseluck, it is wonderful to see you safe and sound!” the stallion spoke as soon as he spotted her presence. “Everypony in Ponyville is worried about your disappearance, even the Princess. They will be happy to know nothing bad has happened to you.”
... he was not aware of his tragic situation...
“The Slave will answer me first,” Cyrus’ hiss filled the air, and Bulwark resumed his salute without delay, even looking slightly fearful. “Who does he belong to?”
“You, Master.”
“Who does he protect?”
“You, Master, and all that is yours.”
Cyrus pointed at Roseluck gracefully. “Can he recognize the Mark of my Gaze upon my Servant?”
“Yes, Master, miss Roseluck is yours, as am I,” Bulwark’s immediate response was.
Only then did the naga smile widely. “Seems everything is as it should be, praise be to the Endless Coils.”
Roseluck could not agree less, but she had little to say in the matter now.
For, as Bulwark was speaking, she realized something. Looking at him, she could almost feel a... connection. Not a pull, no, but a... notice. An understanding. Was it the way he stared, or the way he spoke... or something else entirely. But as soon as he had mentioned recognizing her as a Servant, she discerned that strange sensation.
She knew he belonged to the naga. Just like her. It was like... a brand, a hidden, but present brand. A spectral leash on both of them.
The mark of Cyrus.
“So... he is now yours too, Master...?” Roseluck asked, trying her best not to sound terrified by this revelation.
Cyrus nodded, his face an icon of satisfaction. “Indeed. My court grows, and so does my splendor... You can tell yourself, can you not?”
“I... I can, Master. He does not... look different,” Roseluck admitted, with Bulwark listening attentively, but remaining at attention. “But I can tell.”
“Indeed. The Mark of my Gaze is upon you both. You, as a Servant, experience it differently, of course. Even if bound by my will and whim, your mind is free to make all decisions, for your loyalty is chiefly a matter of choice...” He pointed at Bulwark, who looked beaming at the very attention from the Master. ”A Slave remains under the spell of the Gaze constantly, even if the Trinity of it is not visible. Though they act and behave as if unclaimed, their obedience is assured and their mind is ever-shackled.”
All the details were vital to Roseluck now. She realized just how important her position truly was, in this strange, abhorrent system. If Thralls were even below Slaves, and only Servants were in near-full possession of their faculties... it would come to her to help those unfortunate ponies like Bulwark, should Cyrus were to decide to... expand his retinue.
She had a pretty good idea that this was his plan...
Cyrus himself, in the meantime, turned around to face the pile of furs and began slithering in, soon disappearing between the pelts, burrowing for heat, quite likely. After emerging on the other side, he pointed to the edge of the cave where, as Roseluck spotted, discarded saddlebags lay.
“Bring forth the possessions,” Cyrus commanded, his torso appearing right next to her, which would cause her to jerk back, if not for her keeping up appearances. “Has he acquired all that was requested?” the naga asked as Bulwark rushed to retrieve the sacks.
“Almost, Master! I brought moisturizer, instead of mane conditioner, it was too late to buy some and follow your other orders still. Forgive me, Master...”
The stallion rushed back, opening the bags and offering them forth to Cyrus, like he would be holding a tribute and a gift.
The naga spared the contents a glance. “He has done well enough, he is forgiven.”
“Thank you, Master..”
Roseluck would cringe at Bulwark’s docile and relieved tone whilst trying to comprehend the contents of the sacks, but Cyrus’ attention forbade her from showing discomfort.
“Looks like this will suffice for the moment. Please, Roseluck. These are all yours.”
“... what is this again?” she inquired as Bulwark put down the bundle in front of the fur pile.
“Care products,” the naga replied with a smile. “A Servant must look the part, and you, accurately, pointed out the lack of such supplies. It has been remedied now. And I would expect you to utilize those sooner, rather than later.”
So this really was... shampoo? Soap...? Cyrus... actually recognized her earlier remark...?
That... was a nice gesture, even considering the circumstances... right?
“Thank you, Master...” Roseluck spoke, bowing her head. “I will make sure to take care of myself for you.”
Cyrus smiled widely, his eyes glinting with joy. “Good. And, speaking of taking care of you...” He shifted, leaning back on the pelts, showing well his burly torso. Without asking any permission, he extended his foreleg, looping it around Roseluck neck and pulling her tenderly in, until she had to rest the side of her head right against his firm frame.
She was of two minds about that, but had little choice.
... she must have looked pretty...
... pretty ridiculous, that is.
Cyrus, in the meantime, addressed Bulwark, who was back to his obedient salute. “The search for Roseluck was unsuccessful. What does that mean? He will tell me what the plans of the young ones are now.”
“Of course, Master. The search is supervised by Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, and—”
“The local leader, I presume?”
“Yes, Master, the Princess of Friendship.”
Cyrus smirked, his tone patronizing. “What awe-inspiring appellation... But, at least there is a reason for the community’s mobilization... He continues.”
“She and my commanding officer... my ‘former’ commanding officer, Master, pardon me... plan on continuing the search tomorrow, right from the morning. Bigger area to cover in search of tracks.”
Roseluck carefully listened, being held close by the naga, the side of her head pressed against him. His body felt cold, harsh and repulsive. And his heart was beating so slowly and faintly, she could barely hear it even being right there.
How... appropriate.
Cyrus squinted his eyes. “First of all, Slave’s ‘still’ commanding officer. He was elevated accordingly to hide amidst his kin without suspicions... And what about my glorious presence? Any suspicions there?” the naga inquired.
Bulwark quickly shook his head. “No, Master. Princess Twilight recommends caution, suspecting a monster from the Everfree Forest, but—”
Cyrus chuckled actually. “But she gets a different monster instead, rather than a mindless beast. He is still a Royal Guard, he is to join the search tomorrow with the others?”
“You are correct, Master. The entire unit shall be participating again. But, considering the requests of Ponyville’s denizens, we might be reinforced with civilian aid in the search through the Woods.”
“Is that so?”
Roseluck shivered at those words.
She might have been a simple florist, not an ancient creature keen on enslaving ponies for the sake of satisfaction and megalomania. But she could connect the dots quickly enough.
And so Cyrus’ smile was not a surprise to her, as he clasped her a bit closer to himself still, a flourish of colors passing through his eyes.
“How selfless of them...”
And to those of you who did not yet have a chance of experiencing it, behold Cyrus' glorious likeness, by the wonderful DoeKitty!
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Is this going to start leading somewhere? So much time is spent on the repetitive hypnotic stuff, the story itself barely moves.
8508495
I'm afraid if you are searching for more "daring" material, like you have hinted at in the previous comments of yours, you might be somewhat disappointed, friend.
He has hands? Weird.
Bulwark sure is easily brainwashed if even sex didn't compete! I like Roseluck's role even more. She has a smart head on her.
8508495
??? There wasn't actually much hypnosis until the end of this chapter, and a lot happened in terms of narrative. We learned the upcoming plans for both sides, got a better idea of his powers to enslave, learned that Twilight is the leader of the Ponyville efforts and probably a major obstacle for the villain even if he seems unimpressed, and see Roseluck struggle internally while resolving to take a role in stopping the villain.
8508499 No, I'm just wondering if the plot is going to go anywhere, or it's just going to be snakepony hypnotizing ponies over and over in a very drawn-out fashion with hardly any effort. It's not the sort of thing that leads to any sort of build up of tension or drama, or comedy or anything else for that matter.
8508538
What's left to do if you cannot use strength to overpower? Well, you need wit to outsmart.
I'm really enjoying this story, Roseluck's divided nature on it and hiding her issues behind the hypnotized personality quirks is a fairly delicate dance for her character. I just wonder how much she will be able to properly resist, or if that corrupted part of herself will grow with each gazing until it becomes the true part of herself, with only her going through the motions of resisting to give the proper illusion of independent while still being a Servant.
Though the better question is, will she be able to make a difference with that resistance, or if she will just play the role of a reluctant observer to Cyrus' growing number of followers.
8510069
All of these questions, and more, are going to be answered as the story goes. Stay tuned and I am glad you are enjoying the tale!
Very slight nitpick: princesses and princes are titled "Highness." Majesty and Imperial Majesty are for kings/queens and emperors/empresses respectively.
8589203
Quite right, but as a sign of reverence in a society that grew to regard the title of "Princess" as the highest, I think it is warranted.
8589208 Interesting thought. The only time Celestia has been called "Majesty" in the show was by the Cakes (serving her tea), and she looked a little embarrassed at it, deploying humor to relieve the tension.
I am not reading quickly (I tend to stick to books mainly), but I am interested to see where this ends up.
8589212
There are different ponies, different states of reverence and different reactions to the title, I would presume. Celestia has a very motherly side to her, that must be said.
Don't worry about the tempo, I am taking my time with this one. Glad you are enjoying it, though.
8589213 Our snek-friend, for me, is painted firmly with villainous tones right now. I can see a path for redemption, but he is going to need to find a humble-banquet and eat and eat until he can't continue, and when he wakes from the ensuing coma, he must take another bite.
At least my opinion on it. He may stay firmly in villain territory, which is also fine. I normally prefer my "heroes" with a little more consent in their thoughts, however.
8589218
I am not a fan of redemption pushed down one's throat. There might be dilemmas, but, ultimately, who can comprehend the mind of a naga? This is just my little attempt at providing a more intricate tale to the trope.
And I do love a competent, complex villain.
8589228 I have spent many words making one-dimensional villains rich and complex. I look forward to reading more.
8589232
Right back at you.
Will the story continue?
8826414
Yes, yes, at some point. Simply other projects having a priority in my schedule right now. But I haven't forgotten about poor Roseluck.
What are the odds!
In my search for a new fic Ive come across you again.
And I must PRAISE your ability to write once again.
Here's Roseluck
8966571
Oh, that is precious!
I am glad you have enjoyed this so far. As I have noted on my latest blog, I need to just... pull myself together and I shall be adding more to this story, I promise.
896658
I just read your blog and i have to insist you Take all the time you need.
Health and wellness always comes first. And I hope your situation improves.
We'll be waiting with baited breath for the next installment.
8966717
Thank you very much.