The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi

Meanwhile, Concerning Goddesses...

Bubbles rose through a cylinder of liquid and glass, positioned in a wide, dark room. Toward the dim edges, squat machines slowly turned, chunky fanblades in metal casings that pushed air from one large pipe to another. Metal hoses snaked carefully along the ceiling and floor, linking the cylinder and the fans, water flowing from the center outward and back in like a heart that never beat.

A hiss of sliding metal sounded from one side of the room, a rectangle of golden light falling on a catwalk that crossed the hoses and led straight to the center. Soft paws on metal padded in, and the door shut in their wake, locking out the light. In response, the cylinder lit up, reflecting teal light against the newcomer's toothy smile.

Gazelle didn't hold the look for long. "It's been three days," he whispered, walking to the center with a concerned swish of his tail. "Yet you're still here, in such a depressing atmosphere. You and I really have to talk senses of style! I'm worried about you, my dear."

In the center of the tank, surrounded by swiftly-pumped water, the object of his attention floated. A respirator with a hose covered Meltdown's muzzle, the only thing covering her body as she floated upright in the cool blue light. "Gazelle," her voice said, projected over speakers embedded into the walkway, magical amplification making up for a noticeable lack of spirit or effort behind the words. "I can... talk..."

Gazelle put his paws up on the railing of the platform and leaned toward the glass, getting close enough his breath could cloud the surface if it wasn't enchanted to resist that. He reached up regardless, Meltdown's limp form suspended in coolant before him. "Can you come out? I want to hold you."

Meltdown floated like seaweed, her legs slowly drifting as she moved them... or as they were moved by the currents. Underwater and suspended in motion, her coat stood straight around her, each hair uniquely visible in the light. Even with the fuller appearance it lent her, she was still thin, undeniably weak before she had been felled on the ship. Gazelle put a paw to the glass, tracing it around her visage.

"I've been following intelligence in your stead," he murmured. "The Varsidelians Wallace saved ought to have a safer time with their return home, not courtesy of us. I asked... her to intervene on our behalf. The sarosians will leave that area alone for a few days."

"We should plan better than that," Meltdown weakly replied. "Did you get them any sort of armed transport? You know how important it is this reaches Varsidel."

"Hmm." Gazelle stepped back, nodding. "I'll see if I can pull some strings in Everlaste or Wilderwind, if it makes you feel better."

Meltdown was still. "...Thank you," she said after a while. "I'm scared, Gazelle. I haven't been this powerless since..."

"You could be powerless for me," Gazelle offered. "I've taken great liberties to ensure we won't be interrupted. Pretty please?"

For a moment, Meltdown hovered in her coolant tank... and then sighed through the speakers. Machinery clicked into motion and gears began to turn, and slowly the coolant flow shut off, the top of the cylinder detached from its roof and it began to lower into the ground. Soon it was a pool on level with the railing of the platform, and Meltdown floated to the surface, still tethered to her respirator. "Going cold," she warned, and then the respirator slipped off, her head breaking the surface.

"I've got you." With expert grace, Gazelle leaned forward and fished her out, pulling her dripping body onto the platform. It was grated, so water leaked through to the floor below, and he made no effort to dry her as she soaked his coat with her own. He frowned. "Maybe a little heat."

"Don't t-trust myself to r-regulate like this." Meltdown spoke with a stutter. "It's so slow..."

"Yes." Gazelle started cleaning her coat, beginning with her ears and slowly working his way down. "But now you get to be held by me instead of drifting in that wimpy tank. Isn't that wonderful?" He pressed his muzzle against her fur. "I think it's very wonderful."

"E-Enjoy..." Meltdown managed, her voice faint. "I trust you, as always."

Gazelle did nothing. For a long time, they sat there, the only source of light coming from the lowered cylinder behind them.

Hours later, the door slid open. Gazelle's head immediately snapped upright with a jerk, and he glared at the figure that stepped through. "I thought I ordered we weren't to be-"

A pair of draconic eyeslits above sharp white teeth froze him in his place. "...My lady." He bowed quickly and subserviently, though didn't break eye contact, moving Meltdown to bow with him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

The figure glided forward, roughly the same size as he was, a hooded robe obscuring her legs. She stopped three pony-lengths away from them, just farther than she could have gone while still remaining outside their personal space, and waited, seeming to expect something.

"N-Not now..." Meltdown clenched her eyes. "Careful. Heating."

A wave of warmth billowed out of her frail body, and Gazelle shivered in the heat, but the coolness of the water in their coats saved him from having to let her go. Meltdown looked at the newcomer without the strength to move her neck, but her voice was better than a whisper. "...What may I do?"

"One hundred and seventy-seven," the figure on the catwalk replied, slitted pupils dilating slightly. "One hundred and seventy-seven of her children no longer cry out to me. Their souls have grown cold along the network."

Meltdown folded her ears, still looking uncomfortable and weak despite the all-encompassing heat. "If you deem this a transgression, I will accept any responsibility you place upon me."

The cloaked figure looked on in interest. "You don't even try to justify yourself to me. Do you have doubts about your choices? Or have you finally accepted yourself as my equal?"

Meltdown cringed. "With all due respect, it isn't fair to ask me this when I am not in my right mind... Night Mother."

"Oh, I'm not here to judge." The cloaked mare bowed her head ever-so-slightly in respect, the shifting of her robes causing a paw to become visible for a moment underneath. "Only to tell you the exact consequences of your actions... to your empire alone. I could tell you their stories. The hopes and dreams and aspirations of each and every one slain... but you don't need that to get the point, do you?"

She turned her back on the pair, beginning her walk back toward the exit. "If you feel you need to be judged, you'll have to judge yourself. That is the duty of a goddess, after all."

Then she was gone, a small sliver of gold glinting on the ground where she had stepped. Gazelle frowned at it, then lashed out with a wing, trying to blow a miniature swirl of air that would move it closer. When it didn't work, he got up, slunk over, and retrieved it, settling back beside Meltdown and holding her to his side.

"A Golden Regent," he muttered, stowing it beneath a wing. "Fitting, given what she's asking you to do."

"I-I-I..." A shudder shot through Meltdown, once again without her heat.

"I judge you innocent," Gazelle declared, tossing the regent away behind him. "You performed wonderfully out there. All of your actions were perfect."

"I-I shouldn't do this..." Meltdown started to cry, though she was too weak to cling to him. "You say that, but I can't see it. I can't fit all of the plan in my stupid, feeble brain at once! I forget one half and get the rest backwards and all I can do is trust that you and I know what I'm doing when I'm at my best... One hundred and seventy-seven deaths, and I can't understand what I killed them for. I'm just a weak, scared filly that doesn't know how to handle the brand of a goddess..."

"Shhhhh." Gazelle stroked her back, lifting her towards the cylinder again. "You'll always be a goddess to me, love, at your most powerful or most powerless. Let's get you back in your cooling tank. You'll feel much better with a little clarity in your head."

"Please..."

Gazelle landed on the rim, dipping her inside and working to re-attach the respirator, making small talk as he did so. "Your armor is broken enough from the fight that it might be time to remake it entirely. What do you say to that? Perhaps you can change up your image, or make something sleeker and less-bulky..."

Meltdown sank into the tube and the speakers activated again. "Thank you, Gazelle. Could you stay here and keep me company a while longer?"

"Of course. Anything for you."

Comments

[Sharp Quill]

Okay. Didn't see that coming. Brand of a goddess? Raises so many questions. And the Night Mother isn't Luna?

[Zapdroid]

Is this similar to what Shinespark’s brand is I wonder? Both of them have an extremely powerful brand, called “one of a hero/goddess”. Perhaps there is some bigger picture here...

[Hap]

Intredastinger and intredastinger.

[Alchemik]

When one question is answered, two more take its place. Well done, wordsmith, I'm thoroughly curious and rather confused. The Night Mother has an avatar, or is just totally not who I thought? Meltdown has some sort of dangerous uber-brand of destiny, not unlike Shinespark in a way? Fascinating.

[blankity-blank]

Lots of interesting things here. Is a sphinx pretending to be the Night Mother for some reason? Can Garsheeva shapeshift? Also, their relationship here is pretty cute.

[Venlinelle]

So the Night Mother has reptilian eyes and sharp white teeth, but isn’t Nightmare Moon (unless Nightmare Moon has grown paws and left the moon a decade early). Or is somepony else impersonating her?

[whizzball1]

Is Garsheeva acting the part of the Night Mother? She knows everything that goes on in the empire, as the bat ponies say of her. And she just dropped a golden regent, which only she can do.

[sploopy slooder]

what the fuck is this idiocy? they got all those people killed, fucked around this much, FOR NO REASON?! if the point was to get us to hate Gazelle , you succeeded. he seems fucking obnoxious.