The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi

Your Best Friend

A cacophony of voices surrounded Valey from every angle as she stood in a line, twisty and looking like it was set up to encourage as much cutting as possible. Her ears folded beneath the sunlight, trapped in the middle of the Stormhoof Colosseum. Tournament registration day was here.

It had been explained simply enough: with hundreds and potentially over a thousand challengers, the tournament organizers needed a headcount and official entrant names so fighters could be scheduled across multiple weeks of bouts. But she was starting to suspect the registration was a preliminary in and of itself: in the pushy, shovey chaos of the line, anyone whose diplomatic skills weren't as up to par as their combat would soon find that combat tested in a free-for-all brawl. Almost constantly, small scuffles erupted throughout the colosseum bowl as one fighter took issue with another, and they were resolved just as quickly by more fighters still.

There were three types in the line, she soon realized. Hotheads who started fights based on race, costume or whatever else: she suspected they were the ones without a proper cause to fight for. Professionals who actually could handle many opponents at once; they never started anything and only butted in when someone else disturbed the peace in their space. And then there were quieter ones like her who did nothing at all, and those were complete unknowns.

The earth pony in front of her wore a colorful, jaggedly-patterned costume that covered his entire body and identity. The big batpony behind her carried a tired look and seemed perfectly relieved to be next to someone who left him alone. There were actually a surprising number of batponies in the line, and Valey drew comfort from it, figuring this kind of event must have drawn them out with its promise and that she could blend in with the crowd for a while longer being targeted because of her leafy ears.

Without even a breeze to help things along, the line slowly pushed itself forward, and Valey patiently continued to survive.

---

"Next!"

The griffon in front of Valey finally was summoned as the head of the line fed into an array of processing tents, ten fighters able to be registered at a time. She had preferred standing behind the costumed earth pony to him, but when he shoved his way in, she hadn't cared to punch him out and the pony hadn't either. It didn't add much to her waiting time, though, a tent at the end of the row flagging her down for entry.

She broke into an eager trot, slipping away from the line and making for that cool, shady entry. Oh boy she had survived-

"Well. I wondered if I'd see you coming through here," a familiar voice greeted from inside the tent, and she froze at who she saw inside.

"Come in, come in!" Chauncey waved her in, seated behind a desk with dozens of boxes for sorting note cards stacked behind. He still wore his zealous, burgundy pontifex's robes and miter, looking for all the world like her friends hadn't promised a month ago to bring back his windigo and granddaughters and never showed their faces again. "One in ten odds, am I right? Let's get you signed up."

"Uhhhhh..." Valey hesitantly stepped in, not wanting to turn her back on the crowd for long. "Long time no see? What are you doing here?"

Chauncey nodded. "A month is a long time, isn't it? As for your question, the Empire sources talent from all over the provinces for running this event, administrative included! Still a coincidence for us to run into each other like this, though! I take it you're doing well enough in Stormhoof?"

"Uh huh." Valey held out her Regent in a wing, hoping he'd hurry through with this. "Got this thing here, you already know my name, yadda yadda yadda."

"You're right. I do know your name." Chauncey scribbled something down in fast, meticulous handwriting, leaning forward briefly to check the golden card Valey offered. "But we're in no hurry. I bet you'd like to hold up that line anyway, stopping to talk for a bit. Take out some stored resentment for it after sitting through so many hours. It's never been an elegant part of this whole competition."

Valey raised an eyebrow. "It's your call, pope dude. I wanna register and I'm not waiting through that again for a different tent, so stop beating around the bush. What do you want from me? And don't ask for something I can't do."

"You don't trust me at all, do you?" Chauncey chuckled, then hardened. "Is there a reason for that? You were foalnapped on my lands. Your friends might have made a promise to me they were unable to keep and then not returned to tell me about it, but Gazelle and Meltdown were there, and Wallace too. I'd have to be completely unreasonable to hold that against them, but you don't owe me anything at all, Valey. Why the long face?"

"You're, uhh..." Valey fidgeted. She wanted to say 'creepy,' but thought better of it. "I'm kinda hinging something I really wanna do on you signing me up properly, there, and things have been a little rocky between us in the past. You know? And I just made it through that line. No offense, but you try not being on edge."

Chauncey continued his grandfatherly chuckle. "This isn't information I tell ponies freely, but a long time ago, I used to live in Mistvale. I know a thing or two about meditation and emotional control." His brow shadowed. "There. You're all signed up. As a show of trust, I won't keep you here." He held up a card for Valey to inspect momentarily, then dropped it in an organizer. "But I would appreciate it if you'd hear me out for just a moment."

"Okay..." Against her better judgement, Valey paused, watching him instead of leaving out the back.

"Thank you." Chauncey nodded appreciatively. "I do want you as an ally, Valey. You have a lot of public relations potential after your role in the Ironridge events, and while I wouldn't do anything to put you in the spotlight without permission, I'd love for you and Izvaldi to be on good terms. I'm not asking anything except a hoof in friendship, and I'm willing to go far out of my way to prove it. Even now, I've been using a little influence and pulled some strings with a mutual acquaintance of ours to try to give you a small edge in the tournament, here."

Valey's brow furrowed. "Nothing that would draw attention to me or get me in trouble, right?"

"Valey, please." Chauncey beamed. "I just miss having someone to dote on these days."

"Oookay." Valey slowly nodded. "That's cool. Anything else?"

Chauncey gently shook his head. "No, you can go be on your way. I just wanted to let you know I was rooting for you. Tell your friends you're all more than welcome in Izvaldi at any time."

"Will do." Valey frowned, unable to resist a parting prod. "Dunno how much it'll do, though. One of my friends is kind of super spooked and has a bad taste in her mouth about Izvaldi right now. Something about a mine poisoning the river, she found out about?"

Chauncey's mood dropped. "I see. Well, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who knows and doesn't feel that way. Lord Percival's had a lot to rebuild his province from. With the job he's done, it's understandable why he'd want to keep it."

Valey nodded, but the invitation to leave had been there for a while and she didn't feel like answering that. Nothing stopped her from slipping out of the tent, nobody halted her when she spread her wings and flew away, skipping the crowd and the line and making her way directly back to the Dream. Did he just want to be on her good side because he thought she'd win and wanted his wish granted instead? Or was this like with the pirates, where batponies seemed magnetically attracted to her for no good reason at all?

She sighed, feeling patronized. But that could all be thought about later. Right now, she needed a nap.

Comments

[Czar_Yoshi]

9352644 Lots. I'll probably get squeezed at the end by fimfic's 1000-chapter limit.

[Lab 39]

9353574
I didn't know that there was a limit?