Tales from Everfree City

by LoyalLiar

15-2

XV - II

A Capital C

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

After a night of my body sleeping without my soul (awaiting my first lesson in oneiromancy) and working with Vow and Wintershimmer on some means of having the latter present in our workshop space without my needing to constantly maintain a half-casting of the Razor, I heard the ring of a guest bell at the door, and the magical opening of the doors.

"Chrysoprase, no doubt," I noted, nodding to Vow as he left the workshop room. I, meanwhile, flicked a little bit of magic from the horn of the candlecorn I was occupying and popped into another one elsewhere in the house. It came as something of a shock to me that, while said candlecorn was not in flagrante delicto, and had not been for several hours, it was in the process of reapplying one of the non-enchanted copies of my signature jacket and sash in a guest bedroom where some mare I didn't recognize was sitting upright in the bedsheets. I frowned for a moment at my reflection in the vanity mirror the golem had been using to pass itself off as me (possessing a bit of my idle soul… look, we'll get to it eventually; it was the same parlor trick I used at my party in Chapter Twelve). Then I closed my eyes to commune with that partially separated bit of my myself, and came up with the name—along with a surprising fondness and emotional bond for the mare that, for just a moment, the two versions of my soul fought over whether to find very positive in a 'very equine' sort of way, or duplicitous. But then, at the end of the day, it had been me the whole time, even if I was otherwise occupied.

"Well, Lady Chamomile… It has been a delight to share your company, but duty calls. May I show you to the door, or would you prefer one of my golems get you out more discreetly?"

"Oh, don't think you're getting away from me that easily, lover-colt." Chamomile, who was a little older than I, winked a sandy-colored eyelid.

With that affirmation, I adjusted my cuff, and then offered my right foreleg to escort her; together, the two of us headed out of the guest wing and down to the foyer and its grand staircase.

Both Grand Duchess Chrysoprase and her grandson, Duke High Castle, were waiting on one of my couches (sipping mimosas from a tray Angel was balancing atop his halos) when we arrived. The younger of the two raised a brow at my companion. The former maintained a completely still expression—no surprise, certainly no scandalized outrage—as she spoke up. "Lady Chamomile—I am surprised your family would welcome you visiting with Earl Dust given his recent… poor decisions."

"Grand Duchess!" Despite her insistence that she wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with me, the noblemare flushed quite red. "I, um…"

The old mare shook her head. "I don't mean to scold you; if anything, I am exceptionally Earl Dust has turned his attention to you. I give you my word, my lips are sealed."

We arrived at the bottom of the grand staircase, where I boldly (leaning on Vow's lessons) gave Chamomile a peck on the lips. "Well, My Lady, it seems the time has come for us to part. I do apologize for the urgency, but my…" I'm sure, for just a moment, my expression soured. "My liege is not somepony I have the luxury of keeping waiting. Would you like me to arrange a carriage home, or—"

"Oh, no need; our city house is only the next street over." Chamomile smiled at me, kissed me back, and then stepped away from my embrace and towards the magical doors.

Castle waited until she was through the doors, but not until they had closed, to note quite loudly "Coil, you dog." It wasn't in a tone of admonishment, but a sort of faux-fraternal encouragement that he delivered those three words, and bluntly I wish he'd been judging me negatively instead.

"You seem to be getting over your pursuit of Her Majesty well," Chrysoprase noted. "Lady Chamomile might be a good choice for you; her family is below your station, but not so far as to be scandalous."

"I'm glad you approve, Grand Duchess," I answered back utterly dishonestly. "Shall we be off to—"

I was cut off by a young mare's voice at the top of the stairs. "Ah, Grand Duchess!" The three of us whirled together, in equal surprise, to see another copy of me escorting an avocado-colored mare on his foreleg. I closed my eyes briefly to sync our minds and got the name 'Baroness Urban Commons' for my trouble. She was somewhat objectively more beautiful than Chamomile, but I found my other self liked her less than half as well for her beauty. I resolved to ask Vow what a 'pillow princess' was, as clearly he'd shared that term with the other golem, and it hadn't embedded itself deep enough to transfer via my scattered soul.

That golem-me proceeded to say similar goodbyes to the ones I had just given Chamomile; in the brief distraction that (much to my satisfaction) left Chrysoprase and Castle mostly speechless at my audacity, me-me snuck over to Angel. "Where's the Professor?"

Angel nodded his central core toward the servant's hallway, whilst keeping his halos still to balance his tray. "I'm afraid Graargh is having a bit of a row with Cherry whilst getting ready for class, and he excused himself to keep them out of your mane so you could get out the door with the Grand Duchess."

"Stars; not what I need right now." I all-but darted away, trusting other-me to keep the room busy with small talk, and shot into the kitchen.

The scene was rather calm, given what I'd been expecting. Graargh was standing rather close to Cherry, trying to loom over him but rather failing thanks to Cherry's earth pony size. Cherry didn't seem especially scared or angry, but he did wear a look of puzzlement at the confrontation in front of him. And Vow… well, Vow didn't have a face, but given he had basically frozen in place a few strides away, looking as if he was ready to pounce between them to prevent the altercation turning physical, it wasn't hard to read some worry and discomfort into his posture.

Cherry was the first to see me, and he smiled. "Master! I didn't think we'd get to see you today. The Professor said you were busy."

"Morty!" Graargh bellowed, spinning in place, before the previous sentence was even done; then he bowled into me and only failed to fully tackle me by virtue of the fact that solid candlewax is quite a lot denser than flesh and blood. "Can you tell Cherry I am little brother first? I get teaching time next!"

Cherry sighed and frowned. "Master allocated a dedicated tutor for you, and you've been able to work with her every day, Graargh. I'm struggling with Archmage Grayscale's glyph theory, and I don't have anypony else to ask. And it's due tomorrow!"

"I don't care!"

I glanced down at Graargh with a raised brow. "Your Equiish has gotten a lot better, Graargh."

"Thank you!" Graargh grinned at the small praise, though his expression was short-lived. "But I haven't gotten Morty teach time in weeks!"

I glanced to Vow; the golem-nee-warlock managed to give me enough of a brow to convey sympathy and a bit of guilt when he finally spoke up. "Good morning, Master Coil. If I may be so bold, you have better things to be doing than checking in on us back here. I may not be especially well suited to this sort of… stuff, but I will manage."

"Another of me is out there with them for the moment," I told him, even as I wrapped one foreleg around Graargh for a sort of hug. When he took a deep breath in, the sort one draws after a large sip of a hot drink in the chill of winter, I looked down. And there, much as I had when our journey together began in flight from the Crystal Union months earlier (how had it not been years?), I saw the outline of Graargh's ribs showing through his coat. The ensuing pang of guilt hit me like a warhammer to the temple. "I came because Chrysoprase and Castle just saw another mare I apparently spent the night with!"

Vow formed the cheek of a grin. "And?"

"Maybe I'm misunderstanding, but that seems enormously scandalous. I was hoping you might come deal with that attention before it turns into the news."

"Oh, it will certainly be a matter of gossip," Vow agreed. "Which is by design. This is good! Just act like you have nothing to be ashamed of; toss out your wit, break the ice, and be proud of it. Now go back out there!"

"Right." I glanced down to Graargh. "Come on, kid. You're coming with me today."

"I beg your pardon, sir!" Vow snapped.

"I'll explain later," I told Vow as I turned back to the kitchen door. To Cherry, I added "I'll help you with your glyphs later, but three bits says the problem is sloppy hoofwriting again. Use the compass."

Graargh was so attached to my side that he tried to fit through the kitchen door with me and we only avoided collapsing through in a pile because my body was unusually compressible. Still, once the kitchen door shut behind us, I spoke to him in a hurried whisper—to fit what I had to say into the short bit of the servant's hallway between the kitchen and the foyer. "I'm taking you because we're gonna go see Gale, ok?"

"Okay!"

"But today is very important to me, so I need you not to interrupt when we're talking business; ok?"

"Yes!"

"Promise?"

"I promise, Morty!"

"Thanks, Graargh." I pushed open the door back to the foyer just in time to see other-me walk Baroness Commons out of the house. Chrysoprase and Castle nursed their mostly-emptied mimosas and whispered scandalously to one another—an adverb I assign with certainty because they immediately stopped when I stepped into their line of sight again.

"Earl Dust," said the Grand Duchess. "I… forgive me, who is this creature you have with you?"

Castle chuckled. "I believe it's his… is the term 'familiar', Coil? I understand wizards bond with animals and grant them unusual intelligence, Grandmother."

"I'm not familiar," said Graargh. "I—" and then, of course, he bellowed.

"Graargh," I 'translated'. "I call him Graargh. He's my adoptive little brother. And I suppose my ward. But he also accompanied Her Majesty and I dealing with Wintershimmer, and he hasn't had the chance to see her for quite some time. Graargh, this is Grand Duchess Chrysoprase and Duke High Castle."

"Oh!" Graargh's widened in recognition. "This is pony you were so mad at?"

I winced; Castle raised a concerned brow, but the Grand Duchess herself had the wherewithal to chuckle. "Foals, or in this case cubs, are so honest sometimes. So long as this… 'Grawrgh' is on his best behavior, I suppose I can tolerate him accompanying us. As for you, Earl Dust, there are some matters of decorum and self-restraint we will have to discuss in a future lesson, but I suspect from his grammar that this is not the right audience."

"I appreciate your discretion," I answered. "As do my companions. Shall we?"

Chrysoprase nodded, and the four of us made our way to house's main doors. We were almost free when, behind us at the top of the stairs, a third mare's voice called out "Oh, Grand Duchess?"

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

When we arrived at the Equestrian throne room, two of the three thrones were empty. Gale sat alone, clad in attire that would have been scandalously mundane for any other unicorn monarch, which is to say that the outfit was really her putting a reasonable hoof forward. The base of the outfit was a rich purple dress with sleek-cut foresleeves. In keeping with her increasing preference for asymmetry, she'd tossed an ermine shawl over one shoulder, and then wrapped the other end around her waist. In keeping with the statement she was making with her investment in the idea of the Royal Guard, her other shoulder was glimmering with a gold plated pauldron.

I grinned across the room. She grinned back, before returning her attention to the mare in front of her. That pony, to Chrysoprase's visible surprise (but not my own), was Celestia. The incarnate deity did not seem especially concerned with making a show of what modern writers on the state of monarch would call 'soft power'; she spoke to Gale in hushed tones, standing at the foot of the throne dais, and so actually managing to be (slightly) lower than the unicorn queen's eye level. Unlike our last discussion, the fullness of color and unreal wind had returned to her mane and tail.

All dignity in the quiet throne room was stolen when Graargh broke into a full sprint. "Gale! Slestia!" I lunged to try and grab my little friend, but there wasn't much to grab onto on the bear's furry back with a hoof. Worryingly, while I couldn't stop him, two unicorn knights sprinted into the middle of the room and pointed halberds straight at my little friend. My wax horn flared to life, and I found myself horrified that it lacked the strength of my real horn to actually stop his momentum.

What protected him was a calm voice from the throne. "Let him pass."

The guards stepped aside swiftly and silently, and then in something of a slip of what I had learned was royal protocol, Gale accepted a hug whilst sitting on the throne. She and Graargh shared some words I couldn't hear across the room, though they made her smile, and she rubbed her hoof on his fuzzy scalp endearingly, making his little round ears drop down in irritation. After a few words, Gale gasped and smiled, exclaiming loudly enough to hear "Wow! You've gotten a lot better, Graargh."

Then, after a few more words to Graargh, she finally looked down the long carpet away from the three thrones. She glowered. "Grand Duchess. Duke. Earl. Approach."

"Your Majesty," Chrysoprase greeted, speaking first as she offered a bow—or as much of one as her age would permit. And, in due deference, whereas I have described an awful lot of old and crotchety ponies in this history who struggled with bowing, the Grand Duchess was able to get quite properly low with her neck; the motion just came in more fits and starts than it might for somepony younger. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

"Your Majesty," High Castle repeated the motion, as smoothly as would be expected. "May I say you are looking especially potent this morning?"

Gale did grin at that, begrudging though it may have been, from one corner of her mouth. With a gentle nudge, she guided Graargh away from the space directly in front of her throne (amusingly leading to him sitting down in Chancellor Puddinghead's chair, and needing Celestia to delicately pull him away from that egregious ursine faux paw). Then Gale nodded to Castle. "I'm surprised you're here, Castle. I would have thought this was between Earl Dust, your grandmother, and I."

Chrysoprase spoke up at that. "If that's true, do I have the good fortune of understanding that Lady Celestia is here for unrelated business?"

Gale glanced to Celestia. Celestia nodded to Gale, and then offered Chrysoprase a very flat glance. There was, in retrospect, quite a lot of implied judgement in it. It seemed to answer Chrysoprase's question.

Finally, Gale's attention turned to me. "Your Majesty," I greeted her.

"Mortal fucking Coil," Gale replied.

"Ahem," said Chrysoprase. "I must insist—"

"Grand Duchess, respectfully, shut up." Gale didn't even look at Chrysoprase as she said those words. "Morty, you really fucked me, you know that?"

High Castle leaned down to his grandmother's ear and whispered "She means metaphorically."

"I'm sorry—"

"No, you're not. Because you don't understand. Because a couple weeks ago, I didn't understand, and I've been learning how to do this my entire fucking life." Gale's horn lit, at which point she pulled a small steel comb—looking to all the world like a parrying dagger for its slenderness—and idly adjusted a few locks of her mane that had fallen across her face in the force of the motion with which she had chastised me. "Star Swirl is my best ally in the Stable right now. When he's crippled and can't show up, we get to walk through his succession. Clover's out dealing with the dragons, and then we get Grayscale—you remember him? Well, he'll be around eventually, but he can't drop his classes at the college on short notice. So when I was well and set up for a session of the Stable with Star Swirl at my back, instead I got a vote with Lady Fess representing the House of Zodiac. So lo and behold, the votes I promised Peanut and Puddinghead to deal with inflation that were supposed to be a three-two split in my favor went three-one against, with your new evil mentor not even having to vote on the fucking record!"

"I—"

Gale stabbed her comb through my face, spearing my muzzle and my tongue. A few globs of wax ran down my neck.

After a long silence, Graargh asked "You knew he was candycorn?"

"No." When Graargh responded to that dry sarcasm with a look of absolute horror, Gale showed a flash of genuine worry and patted the little bear on the shoulders. "I'm kidding, Graargh. Morty forgets to let his candlecorns have the bags under his eyes."

"Bags? Have you been having trouble sleeping?" Chrysoprase asked.

I raised my eyebrow as glacially as it would move whilst turning my head to stare directly at her in silence. Then, with a flash of magic from my horn, I removed Gale's comb from my face and offered it back to her, 'hilt' first. "How can I make it up to you, Gale?"

Chrysoprase coughed heavily.

I sighed. "Your Majesty, how can I make it up to you?"

"If you know any spells to control macroeconomics, you'd better pretend you fucking don't. You can't do anything about this, Morty. I know we met over Wintershimmer, but you really need to understand: there aren't actually a lot of problems I'm responsible for solving where 'obscene violence' is the right answer. I'll deal with Peanut…" Then she chuckled. "It'll be six months before Stable rules say I can bring the issue up again. So until then, you can go on a date with him, if you want, to soften the blow."

High Castle failed to properly suppress a laugh, and when Gale's attention snapped to him, the stallion awkwardly explained "I assure you, Your Majesty, Earl Dust's predilections don't align with the Speaker."

Celestia shot me a subtly threatening glance that I didn't fully understand at the time.

"Well, a mare can dream," Gale answered. "I'm very tempted not to grant you a domain at all right now, but seeing as the Grand Duchess was the one who asked, I'm assuming it's bad for you?"

"She made that very clear yesterday," I answered. "I'll be expected to spend time attending to it, so I won't be available in Everfree City."

"Ah," Gale nodded. "So that's the play." Then she snorted back a hint of laughter. "Alright, let's get this shit over with."

Grand Duchess Chrysoprase nodded, and cleared her throat. "Your Majesty, as the Duchess of the Great House of Gullion, of whom Earl Dust is a Banner, I formally beseech the throne to request the allotment of a Domain. While Earl Dust may not be in the best standing with the Stable, I believe the responsibilities of overseeing a domain will see him well, and his unique magical talents will likewise be of service in protecting one of our new frontier domains from the threats of monsters and hostile beasts. May I suggest the Domain of Equinox Valley?"

"Your advice and your request are granted, but your suggestion is denied," Gale answered bluntly. "Earl Dust, step forward and be seen."

Chrysoprase, as she stepped back, spoke again. "Your Majesty, I should warn you: your own standing with the Stable after the most recent vote is not entirely stable. If you're considering something as… radical as reallocating any noblepony's assigned domain, I would encourage you to exhibit restraint."

"I'm not stupid, Aunt Chrysoprase." Gale ignored the wince that the familiar address won her. "But there are more unassigned domains than just Equinox Valley. There are three south of here in the badlands, even after Rain and Grainwood got theirs, plus that island to the southeast."

"Ah," said Chrysoprase, her worries at ease. "My apologies for second-guessing Your Majesty."

"However," and here Gale put on a voice as if she was reading off a script in a play she was not especially invested in. "Before I assign one of those domains, I do want to ask if anypony present objects, or wants to do anything unprecedented and drastic, or whatever."

Celestia said "Ahem".

Chrysoprase winced. "You cannot be suggesting—"

"Her Majesty," Celestia interrupted, with quite some satisfaction, "does not actually have a say in this. When Luna and I came to Equestria with Hurricane, I explained that what you call 'the Mountain of Dawn' was my home. Queen Platinum made it an official part of Equestria's domain charter to carve out the mountain, and its surrounding foothills, acknowledging that I had been living there quite a bit longer than this country has existed. It's my land, not the crown's."

Chrysoprase scowled. "If you yield it to the crown, then she absolutely does."

Celestia nodded. "If I were yielding it to the crown, she would. But I'm not. I'm giving it to Morty."

"Then that's an unprecedented gift, but it isn't a domain."

"No," I agreed, though as I did so, I pulled a piece of parchment in Vow's script from my front pocket. "But the Act of Dominance authored by… let's see… one Grand Duchess Chrysoprase, I believe, states that anypony being of standing with noble title, and already being in possession of land not less than than fifty thousand acres, shall be entitled at their presentation to the crown to submit said land unto the crown, and be recognized for their holding by taking that land as their lawful domain."

After a moment of silence, Celestia noted "You read that very well, Morty."

"I wish I could say I hadn't practiced," I answered. "Thank you, by the way, for the gift."

"Surely you're both joking," said High Castle, looking between us (though the look up at Celestia made his haughty tone easy enough to disregard). "That part of the law only existed because some of the nobles had already come over and purchased land around Everfree before Equestria was properly established. It wasn't meant to last forever."

Gale shook her head with some satisfaction. "The Stable has had nearly twenty years to adjust the law. What would it look like for the stability of my rule if I changed it now? The law doesn't—or as the books would say, must not—bend just because it happens to serve the purposes of an egotistical, self-serving little bastard of an earl."

"Okay, Your Majesty, the act is wearing thin." Though I was being quiet genuine in my frustration, Gale seemed to take more satisfaction at my protest than at the joke in itself.

High Castle was clearly not done with his own protest, even daring to rise one step up the dais towards the thrones. "He wouldn't even have any subjects!"

"Wards, Castle," Chrysoprase corrected tersely.

Celestia chuckled. "I prefer that term as well. But regardless, he would have one."

"You can't be a ward! You're… You're a goddess," Castle snapped at her without really thinking.

Those three words earned a huff of frustration from Celestia. "I am no such thing. And even if I were, that is not a title that this frustrating petty system of guardians and servants recognizes. For all my age and my magic, as far as noble titles go, legally speaking I have no title at all. And—" Celestia sighed and turned to me. "Morty, if you let this go to your head, so help me, there will be words." Then, back to Castle and Chrysoprase, she said "If the ancient point of a noblepony is to be a protector, then I have to grudgingly admit that Morty protected me against Wintershimmer, and to that end, I owe him a certain loyalty and gratitude."

Chrysoprase scowled. "You are indulging his worst impulses. Clearly, given what you said to him, you know you are doing it. And yet you persist. I meant what I said in court the other day."

For just a moment, something weighed on Celestia. Then she stiffened her back and nodded. "I know you think you're doing the right thing, Chrysoprase. I can understand, however regressive the thought might be, thinking that you were doing right by making this play to keep him away from Gale. I understand even a bit of fear for how he reacted. Yes, Morty is a powerful young pony. I asked nicely for you to end this false power you've gained over him. But this—this trick you're trying to pull to banish him to the edge of Equestria, to strip him away from all the friendships he has overcome his repressive foalhood to build against all odds—I don't use the word 'evil' lightly. But I will use it here. This is slavery, and it's not something you're doing in a mistake, in the heat of passion, like his outburst with Star Swirl. I know you sat and calculated this." Celestia took a step forward, and then another, and then sat down directly in front of Chrysoprase and put a hoof on the old mare's shoulder. "I still believe that behind your actions, however much I disagree with your methods, there is a well-meaning mare who believes in the system she fought to build for Equestria. So if you never give Morty another order under the power of that vow, I will honor that life of sacrifice on the day you die, and I won't even look twice before you go to the Summer Lands. But if you prove me wrong, and you give even one more order with this… disgusting perversion of an oath you've snuck onto Morty's back, then you will be in welcome company with slavers like Warlord Halite and manipulators like Solemn Vow. Do I make myself clear?"

Chrysoprase's eyes widened, and then narrowed. And then, to a gasp from her grandson, she said aloud "Coil, I release you from any orders I have given you, save that you not pursue Her Majesty's hoof. You may treat any further direction I give you as a request." Then to Celestia, she said "Are you satisfied? Or would you damn me over that?"

"I am more than satisfied," said Celestia.

I scoffed aloud. "It's a start. But as Wintershimmer was fond of saying, 'apologies do not stitch wounds'. Neither you nor I can break what you wrote in the contract."

Chrysoprase fully refrained from turning to look at me. To Celestia, she said "If my apologies are not wanted, I trust you won't stop me from taking my leave?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Celestia answered.

Absolute silence filled the room for a solid ten seconds, save the subtlest click of Chrysoprase's hooves on the strip of carpet that led out of the room. Then, frantically, High Castle rushed after her.

Celestia slowly nodded to the throne. "Gale, you were saying?"

Gale's eyes, like saucers, took a moment to shrink. "Holy fuck. Aunt Celestia."

I simply said "Thank you, for that too."

Graargh, amusingly, spoke up the most bluntly. "What did you mean, Celestia? I didn't not know all those words. Why do she get so scared? And who is 'Halite'?"

"Graargh," said Gale gently, when Celestia's answer was a moment of silence and a sharp inhale. "She was saying she'd send Aunt Chrysoprase to Tartarus when she died, if she didn't lay off Morty."

"Please don't repeat that," said Celestia. "Any of you. Even if it is a statement she deserved to hear, it is not one I'm proud to have associated with me."

"Why not?" I asked plainly. When Celestia looked at me—not scoldingly, but with a sort of mixture of pity and shame—I pressed "Let's be honest, it was the right thing to do. I mean, I understand you personally don't like being thought of as a 'goddess', and that's exactly what ponies talking about you admitting to judging souls openly would lead to. But it's you making a personal sacrifice for, as ashamed as I am to have to admit it, somepony who couldn't help himself. I know it is you making a sacrifice—even if a lot of ponies wouldn't mind the kind of worship you get—but a very wise pony once told me heroes deserve to be proud of themselves."

Even as Gale rolled her eyes on the throne, Celestia smiled (though a wistful smile).

"Ah, oh… um, right. Fuck. Er—Morty, I guess the answer to this is fucking obvious, but do you want the mountain as your domain?"

I nodded. "It would be pretty ungrateful to ask for it and then not use it, right?"

"Good. Then I officially assign you the Domain of the Mountain of…" Gale's voice trailed off, and she frowned. "Well, actually, that's kind of a good question. Usually, domains are named after their primary settlement. Even the ones out on the frontier have one of Ty's forts or a trading post that gives us a name. So 'the Domain of the Mountain of Dawn' sounds really weird. Do you want to call it something else?"

"Morty gets to name the mountain?" Graargh asked next to Gale.

I shook my head. "I think the mountain will probably keep being 'the Mountain of Dawn'; that name's older than history. But we probably need to stick a city on it. Or at least a castle or something. Maybe—"

"Call it Canterlot!" Graargh insisted brutally. "Like in the stories!"

I winced; Gale outright laughed at the suggestion, and even Celestia gently chuckled.

The Queen reached over from her throne to scratch Graargh between his ears as she explained "Graargh, you can't reuse the name from the storybooks. It's cute, but ponies wouldn't take it seriously."

"Aww…" said Graargh. "But it would be good. You could have knights, and Morty could be Hourglass, and—"

"Oh, sweet stars…" I muttered to myself. Apparently, given all three other ponies present turned to me, I hadn't been as quiet as I had imagined. "Fine, Graargh. You win. We'll call it Canterlot."

Gale arched her brow for just a moment, and then shrugged. "Alright. The 'Domain of Canterlot' it is. Don't come looking for sympathy when the Stable chuckles behind your back. Is there any more to this little scheme you two put together, or are we done here?"

"That's all I needed, Gale," I told her with a smile. "I assume you're rushing off to more crown business?"

Gale let out a hollow huff. "I wish it was business. I'm rushing off to ceremonies. A library uptown to dedicate, dinner with Somnambula and a delegation from Mahrdina… that kind of shit. And I apologize in advance, Aunt Celestia, but there's a service for one of the old fucks in the Stable at your temple. So… if you actually do hear prayers, I guess at least you know I don't mean it."

Celestia chuckled. "Thank goodness I don't. It's hard enough to get a moment's quiet in my own head. As I suspect you are starting to understand, Gale. Or you, Morty, for that matter." Celestia winked at me.

Gale cocked her head. "What's that supposed to mean? Did you do some magic bullshit again?"

Rather than explain Wintershimmer, I simply told her "You'd have to be more specific, Gale. I'm pulling a few threads right now—actually, probably literally; my real body and the other candlecorn are probably at work at home. But I can't check in from this far away to guarantee that. I probably ought to get back to them, and start hunting for an architect to help put 'Canterlot' together."

"Rain and Finder know another old pegasus who's pretty good," Gale suggested. "Or if you want a more unicorn style, I can ask around the stable. But if you're building up the side of the mountain, I suspect you're probably not wanting to build out of ground stone."

Celestia cleared her throat heavily. "Actually, on that subject… Gale, I apologize for putting you in this position, but if your day is purely ceremonial duties, would you mind taking Graargh with you? There are some things Morty and I need to discuss about the mountain before he starts bringing anypony else up there."

"Hmm?" Graargh grinned. "I get to spend the day with Gale?"

Gale chuckled. "Sure, it probably won't hurt, as long as you're on your best behavior. I do have to warn you, though, Graargh: some of it's going to be boring as fuck."

"That okay," said Graargh, dropping the contracted 'S' without apparent awareness. "I missed you."

Celestia smiled. "I promise I won't keep Morty all day. This should only take a few minutes; maybe an hour or so." Then Celestia walked over to my side and extended a wing. "Shall we?"

As golden magic coalesced on her horn, Graargh gave us these eloquent parting words: "Try not to get stab while I'm gone."

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

With a flash, once more I found myself on the mountainside of what you, reader, know as Canterlot. Below me, and behind, stretched the vast plains and forests of Equestria. Before me lay the cave. Celestia's old home.

"So what did you want to talk about?" I asked.

Celestia gestured to the cave with a wing, and then took a commanding step forward. "I think I alluded this to this before, when we were talking to… whatever you want to call what's left of Wintershimmer. But while I've preferred to keep to myself for these past centuries, I haven't been completely isolated. As you've described it, I've been a 'wizard'; I would step in when there were magical threats or problems that I didn't think ponykind was prepared to solve."

I nodded as we passed the threshold of the cave. A few enchanted candles flared to life, set into little hoof-sized alcoves in the granite. I was struck, as the warm lighting illuminated a short entryway-type of space, that there was no way the number of candles present would provide so much light, at least without being quite unpleasant to look directly into—but then, they'd lit themselves, so it was hardly a surprise there was more magic at play.

Celestia continued without comment on the candles. "Sometimes, those problems are living beings who need a chance to change, and be rehabilitated. Sometimes, they are objects, or phenomena that can be suppressed but aren't easily destroyed. Regardless, when I've had to contain something, I've done so here."

We stepped next into a wider open room that was, if you know anything about Celestia, utterly baffling. What I mean by that, for those without such familiarity, is this: Celestia is, for all her numerous virtues, undeniably a mare of comforts. Celestia thrives in Everfree (or, I suppose in the future of this writing, likely in Canterlot) in rooms decorated with ornate beds and lush cushions. She favors strong flavors in her foods, whether they be sweet or savory, or even sour, spicy, or bitter; she only demands they not be unduly subtle. She drinks a veritable torrent of tea, and collects its varietals from distances that exceeded the Equestrian's state's knowledge of geography, at least as of the time of our story. Her libraries are replete with writings in every genre, every imaginable subject, and any number of obscure styles.

Knowing all that, I cannot imagine how she survived in the homely cave that she claimed was her home. It had only three major features of note: a large cloud, beaten into a wide flat disk that seemed to serve as a bed for her; a small (by her standards) pool filled by water trickling from the wall—visibly steaming by some unseen geothermal or cloud-architectural mechanism; and a bookshelf with a scant few dozen books and scrolls. There was no food to speak of, nor a shelf or larder in which to store it, nor table from which to eat.

The last feature of note, though one can hardly call it an attraction of the room, was a tunnel on the opposite wall leading further into the mountain.

"You lived here?" I asked as I looked around, and I fear some incredulity slipped into my tone.

Celestia nodded. "For… longer than I care to admit, yes. I had a few guests over the centuries. King Malachite. Roamulus. Crab Apple. And, most recently, Hurricane. But otherwise, just me, for… well, I didn't bother to keep track, but since a little after the pegasi flew south."

"That's…" I frowned in thought, and swiftly gave up on the right words. Equiish, like most products of civilization, is the result of a relay race. The dozen-or-so of us running it as a marathon ourselves have no business enforcing our unique experiences on its development.

I got a chuckle for my uncharacteristic speechlessness. "A lot of ponies say death is what gives life purpose."

"Pathetic," I muttered.

"Well, that's rather harsh, isn't it?" Celestia gestured down the further tunnel, and started leading the way again. As she spoke, she pulled a candle from an alcove with her wingtip and held it aloft. "There's nothing wrong whatsoever with living a good life in the years you have. However, if you suddenly find yourself without that restriction, it can be quite easy to become aimless. You have to ground yourself. You have to find a purpose."

"You say that like I'm gonna live forever," I joked. "Not that I mind the idea. But there aren't a lot of old wizards."

Celestia chuckled. "If you live to have a thirtieth birthday, Morty, you'll have a three-hundredth. But, for once, somepony in the same room as you wasn't talking about you—I know that's hard for you to believe, but it does happen."

I fully stopped in my stride; Celestia did not acknowledge my surprise at her barbed words in any way.

"The point I was building to is my purpose. Please, keep up."

Under Canterlot today—the city, not the palace—the next room we entered still exists. A huge, towering vault of a room, with a smooth stone floor, but stalagmites hanging from the ceiling, covered in ropes of green moss. Celestia had fabricated a fireplace in one wall, and apparently gilded the mantle, alongside a railing that separated a gallery around the edges of the room from the lower floor. The walls were covered in shelves, though comparatively few were populated. What I did see were obviously spellbooks, and enchanted items, and vials of bubbling and viscous liquids that my alchemically challenged eye did not recognize at a glance.

"I trust I don't need to tell you not to touch any of it," Celestia told me matter-of-factly as I swept the room—so taken in that, for a good few moments, I did not see the room's most notable occupant—one which, I can assure you, is no longer present today.

Set standing beside the hearth, though there was no fire within at the moment, was a statue depicting a long and serpentine, with mismatched legs and hands and horns. He was positioned facing toward the fireplace. An opulent cloud cushion, Celestia's side, rested on the floor beside him, easily in hoof's reach of the statue's base.

"Is that a statue of the draconequus?" I asked with a worried tone.

Celestia chuckled. "Ah. I forgot I didn't make this clear. That is Discord."

"From your story? Discord… wait, you fought the draconequus?" My head swung back and forth between the statue and my mentor, who winced at my disbelief—or, more likely, my admiration.

"Yes, Morty. Discord is the creature you have heard of as 'the draconequus'. I knew him to describe himself as 'a' draconequus… but I've never heard of another one."

"Okay…" I felt the need to sit down, and obliged it. "Right. You… okay. So… So why do you have a statue? You don't seem like the kind to make trophies."

Celestia sighed. "You weren't listening Morty. I don't have a statue."

"You don't…?" I turned to stare again at the statue—the petrified spirit—and I suddenly felt a very real urge to turn and run. "That's… That's really—"

"He can't hurt you, Morty," Celestia assured me. "Remember my story? After the Elements of Harmony stripped him of his 'sparks', he still managed to steal one back from Megan. So we used the Elements again, and they trapped him in that form. Since his power comes from the chaos he causes, trapped as a statue there's nothing he can do."

I glanced at the cloud cushion, and then raised a brow toward Celestia. "So you sleep next to him?"

"I… Even after everything that happened, I do pity him. It's suffering for him to be trapped like this. Not that I think I could free him, even if I wanted to. But sometimes I kept him company. Sometimes he kept me company."

I glanced around the very subterranean cave again. "I don't want to speak for you too strongly, but if you were talking to a statue of your worst enemy, maybe Hurricane bringing you to Equestria was a really good change for you."

"Oh, he can talk back," Celestia assured me. "If you touch the statue. Go ahead, if you like. He can't hurt you. And if he wants me not to toss a blanket over his head, he'll be on his best behavior." The latter sentence she spoke directly toward the petrified spirit.

Tentatively, I walked toward the statue. Rather like a mother bird, Celestia nudged me forward with her wing tips encouragingly. I extended a hesitant hoof…

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

…and the moment it came into contact with stone, I was suddenly standing on a plain of gray, featureless mist, stretching off into forever.

"Oh my, and who do we have here?" The rich timbre of a surprisingly 'normal' stallion's voice issued from behind me, and I whirled in place to find an empty statue's plinth on the ground. "Oh—sorry; back here." I turned again, and where I had already been facing, I beheld the draconequus in the flesh. And fur. And scales.

"Mortal Coil!" Discord exclaimed, extending a lion's paw, picking up my right foreleg, and beginning to aggressively shake it up and down. "Oh, I'm a huge fan. Celestia's told me all about you! Well, that and I can see scenes of chaos even when I can't cause them, so you've been my favorite channel for quite some time now."

The words flowed like a particularly rapid river, though as he spoke, Discord stepped away from me—ripping his own arm off in the motion (though it emerged with a 'pop' and seemed to connect to his shoulder with a sort of rounded peg rather than muscle and bone). The dismembered limb kept shaking my hoof enthusiastically, even as his avian talon (his other forelimb) sculpted some mist into an especially tall and narrow throne, into which he reclined. It squeaked, rather like a mouse, when he found his ease.

Taken aback by the sensory assault, I uttered only the first thing that came to mind. "Channel?"

"No, no, I'm Discord, a majestic and powerful—though momentarily inconvenienced—spirit of beautiful chaos; a channel is a divot in the ground you run water through. Honestly, that's a weird mistake to make. Do you need glasses?" Discord snapped his talons, and a pair of springs launched out of my skull, pushing my eyes out of their sockets (curiously missing their optic nerves). The disconcerting thing was, I could still see out of them, and the sudden violent motion caused me to try to empty my stomach. I found, to my gut's disappointment, that there was nothing to release in this demiplane of horror.

"Ah, sorry," said Discord. "I do forget how easy it is to upset those little rocks in your ears. Here, let me get that for you." His disembodied limb finally released my foreleg (which I had begun frantically fighting to free), floated over, grabbed both my exposed eyes, and pushed them back into my head. "So… what brings you here to visit little old me? Celestia telling a carefully edited story you wanted to verify? Looking for a hoof-up in your little spat with Looney? Or… oooh!" Discord smiled, and the crease of the edge of his lips against his cheeks wound up like a spiral as his eyes eyes narrowed. "Do you want to make a deal?"

"I trust I don't need to warn you about this," said Wintershimmer. I had the keen and sudden sensation that I should have heard my old master's voice in my head, but instead, I heard it clearly in my ears, slightly off to my left side. I glanced over to find the old stallion looking down at a very corporeal form with a blend of confusion and horror on his expression.

"Ah, your hitchhiker," said Discord, leaning forward on his throne. "Wintershimmer, I have to say: I really never liked you. So much order… and worse, inspiring it with fear and murder? Utterly tacky." Discord's floating limb rose up to Wintershimmer's muzzle, where his thumb (the bit of flesh on the side of his dew claw) bent to touch his middle claw, forming a circle just an inch from Wintershimmer's fur. Then he flicked Wintershimmer, like a foal might flick another foal on the tip of the nose.

Wintershimmer was flung away from us into misty 'forever' at a speed that produced a crack rather like thunder, and left my ears ringing for a couple of seconds thereafter. Discord seemed very amused with himself, putting his foreleg back in its socket, and then tucking both behind his head—or, given the length of his head above his shoulders, more like his lower-middle neck. "Well, there's one favor for you. I'm sure stuffy old Merlinchavelli never shuts up." (Eight centuries and I still don't know what that name is supposed to mean, so don't ask).

"Did you—"

"He's fine, Morty," Discord assured me. "I hope Celestia didn't mislead you when she told you a no-doubt one-sided story about our oh-so-fascinating shared history, but I don't kill anypony. Even… him." Discord's muzzle wrinkled up as he said that. "But enough about that. I wanted to talk about you. I've got a present for you, Archmage."

"What?" I shifted back and pointed my horn. When I focused to let the tip light up, paper streamers and confetti erupted with a sort of trumpeting whistle.

"That won't work here. Honestly, for all your fancy tricks, you couldn't hurt me in the real world either. Or maybe you could; it'd be an awful chaotic outcome, so maybe it'd work." Discord's entire body except his shoulders dipped down, creating the effect of a shrug, but also sending his hind-quarters through his chair as though it were immaterial. "As I was saying, I have a gift for you."

"Do you think I was born yesterday? To accept a gift from you? Even if Celestia hadn't told me your story, I'm a wizard."

"Ah, ah, ah; ego, Apprentice Coil." Discord waggled his finger. "And I think you will accept a gift from me, because it comes with no strings attached. No deals needed, no promises sworn. In fact, you could say it's negative-one oaths sworn. And I know you're willing to kill for what I'm offering."

I frowned, and cocked my head just a bit. "You're… referring to my cold iron vow?"

"Bingo! Spot on! Third dog's name that means 'right'!" Discord clapped his mismatched hands. "I can't lift your vow—not without you breaking me out, and I'm not stupid enough to ask you for that. But even like this, I'm pure chaos enough that I can at least give you a reprieve." Discord leaned forward. "Say… one act that breaks your written oath."

"And if I say no?"

"Who said I was offering?" Discord snapped the talons on his avian hand.

"You did, by calling it a gift."

"Then call it 'an offer you can't refuse'," the spirit replied. "I'm really not asking anything in return. No obligation, no strings attached, no secret influence on you. Ask little miss fibber when I let you out of here in a sec; once you're away from my rocky little private Tartarus, I won't be able to do a thing more than watch." He grinned, showing off that one snaggle-fang at his lips in a way that convinced me he was not a carnivore, and yet still seemed to threaten to bite me. "Oh, and one more thing before you go, Morty: I know you know spirits aren't really bound to 'space' the way you fleshy mortals are. I'm even less restrained than other spirits. So if you ever want another chat, I'm in every picture of me. Heck, even a stick in the mud will do in a pinch. And speaking of which, here's yours." Discord clapped, and a screaming Wintershimmer came flying into view from the distant void, landing in a crumpled pile at my hooves. "Ta ta."

Clap, clap.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

"So, what did you think?" asked Celestia, as I stumbled back.

"...I don't know." I swallowed. "He, um… He gave me a gift."

Celestia arched her brow. "I would hope you know better than to make deals with—"

"He didn't give me a choice," I interrupted, and then explained what had happened. Celestia nodded sagely through it, and then chuckled. I asked "I take it he was telling the truth then, about no strings attached?"

"None magical, at least," Celestia agreed. "So long as you don't find yourself in desperate need of a second exception, clawing back to him, you should be fine. My advice would be not to use this first exception he's given you. That way, if you accidentally break the wording of your agreement, it will protect you from the ramifications, and you and I can come back here and talk to him again to see if he can bend the rules in your favor a second time. If you want to use it in your efforts to permanently break the bonds, I admit I understand, though with Chrysoprase's relenting on further spoken orders, I would hope you can live with circumstances as they are, at least for the time being."

"I still can't be with Gale," I observed.

Celestia grinned out of the corner of her mouth, and actually moved a wing to hide it. "I see she really does mean a lot to you, if you're willing to tangle with Discord for her. But yes, I understand. All I ask, Morty, is that you not bargain with Discord without me present."

"Of course," I agreed. "I'll do everything I can not to be bargaining with him at all, if I can help it."

"Wise." Celestia nodded. "Well, the point of bringing you down here wasn't actually talking to him, though that does seemed to have turned out well. I'll give Discord the benefit of the doubt that he wasn't trying to manipulate you and tell him some more stories out of Equestria to reward him for his good behavior. As for you: whatever 'Canterlot' you build here, I only ask that you preserve this place, while also keeping it well sealed and hidden from prying eyes."

"From outsiders getting in, or him getting out?" I asked.

"Both," Celestia answered, and then shrugged as she started leading me out of the room. "Well… I'm not so worried about him getting out, but behind that shelf over there, there's a pit that leads down to the portal to Tartarus under the mountain."

Comments

[RoboRed]

Ah yes, what a bit of info to drop oh-so-casually. "Yo, I got the stairway to hell behind my bookshelf".
That was a fun interaction with Discord there, and it was satisfying watching Chrysoprase getting chewed-out and one-upped. So begins the unexpected beginnings of Canterlot...

And man, I missed Gale's refreshing brand of bluntness.

As golden magic coalesced on her horn, Graargh gave us these eloquent parting words: "Try not to get stab while I'm gone."

[Noobblue]

"Well… I'm not so worried about him getting out, but behind that shelf over there, there's a pit that leads down to the portal to Tartarus under the mountain."

👁️‍🗨️👄👁️‍🗨️

[Raugos]

Huh. Discord's seems remarkably sincere in granting Morty a boon. Though, I suppose he's anticipating that any situation in which Morty plays his get-out-of-jail-free card is guaranteed to lead to chaos, so it's ultimately still self-serving.

Also, dang, Celestia. You're all about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, huh?

[Farenth Vega]

I gotta admit I'll send you to hell is a pretty damn strong bargaining chip. I wasn't expecting the portal either. Talk about leading to chaos. Great to see another chapter so fast! Hope to see more soon. I can't say enough how much I love this universe.

[616e6f6e]

I missed this story. Welcome back!

[duckmagee]

so if Coil comes back fully in modern times, he be lord of the most important piece of real estate in equestria, and have the entire canterlot nobility as his wards, i dont know if to laugh or feel sorry for Coil

also the way celestia described her talks with discord, made me think she put the statue on it side snuggles up to it and has gossip session with Discord like it a sleep over

[CopperTop]

Realtor Celestia: "Solid construction, great mountain views, quiet neighborhood, only one previous owner. The hellgate in the basement can get a little drafty in the winter though..."

[Sweetblue]

"Coil, I release you from any orders I have given you, save that you not pursue Her Majesty's hoof. You may treat any further direction I give you as a request."

I am unsure if this is weak release or not. Is he still bound to will of her successors? Are his children still bound to the oath as he was previously? I do note the "You may treat any further direction" is rather loose here. Does this mean Morty can just take any poorly worded direction as order if he wants to, and then disregard any further ones if he chooses to do so? What does "directions" even mean!? Are they seperate things from orders? Would his written oath prevent him from destroying the Dusk family if he decides to not to treat direction as a request? I mean "Just take my gold" might be seen as literal order, and since she is head of Dusk family all the gold they have belongs to her no? And since it is Cold Iron order from his liege what laws could stop it?