Discordant
The siblings silently watched, gazing down at that unique figure as it slowly moved towards the palace again. They had no concerns about being spotted: most of the recruits who exited the gardens after their tour would trot with their heads lowered, everything within them weighed down by long thoughts. In this, as with so many other things, the girl was no different.
And in the event that she had looked up... not only would she have needed to randomly pick the balcony of exactly the right tower to gaze at, but she also would have been up against the most talented illusionist Equestria had ever produced.
Celestia had actually asked the younger about that: whether the girl might have any capacity to pierce illusion. Luna had thought about it for a time, then replied in the positive -- a rather tentative version. A touch from the sword would likely cancel out the magic holding a false vision together. But when it came to perceiving the true without the use of that thing -- illusions created by ponies were manipulations of light and, for those with the talent, sound. They didn't pass along their lies through a direct tap into the target's senses: that was a changeling's dominion, and so pony illusions didn't include scent. Luna could create a perfect mirage, as with the one which currently displayed an empty balcony (as long as those hidden by that veil didn't move too much). But it could only fool sight and hearing. It was possible that Cerea would be able to smell their distant presence, where a pony could not. And an alicorn's natural scent was a little like that of the other three races combined, with unique factors added in -- but it also smelled like nothing else in the world.
They were several stories above the ground, cloaked by illusion. But they still weren't entirely sure what the girl was capable of, and so Celestia had also redirected the wind. Just in case.
Eventually, the centaur was close enough to the walls to be hidden from sight. And about a minute after that, they heard heavy doors close.
"A longer tour than most," the younger quietly noted, her horn beginning to dim. "And that without having covered the entirety of the gardens."
"She had a lot to think about," Celestia softly countered. "I could almost see her counting statues on the way back, at least when it was possible to see her. And... she hasn't been outside in a while. Not by herself."
Luna's sigh wasn't truly chill: the younger's body warmed the air within her lungs, the same as every other pony -- but it was almost always a little cooler around her, and so that warm breath wafted through an aura of concern-created cold, becoming briefly visible as a rising cloud of personal mist. "Something for which there are currently very few solutions."
"Yes." The matching expression from the elder didn't quite manage to emerge as steam: she wasn't upset enough for that. But the siblings had been mutually dealing with various sources of stress, and Celestia was all too aware that she had to get back inside and under a tighter degree of control. By her rather experienced estimate, the two of them were one more piece of bad news away from potentially beginning to produce their own fog bank.
Wryly, "Want to talk about some of the other things we can't solve?"
"Ah," Luna sarcastically considered. "So with my already having been awake beyond my normal hours, you wish for me to both remain alert for a longer period and have reasons for a rather poor sleep, if only so that your personal state might gain company -- and what is that thought?"
"Sorry?" Celestia automatically asked.
Evenly, "Doctor Bear has his own way of indicating when an inner vision has taken him away for a time. As do you."
Which was when she realized that her head had gone up, and it made her look as if she was examining the sky -- but the purple eyes were fixed upon that which no longer existed.
White lids slowly closed.
The voices were soft, decibels worn down from the effort required to cross centuries. "I was thinking about how we used to push our beds together. Or the blanket nests, after we lost them. Under a single blanket on the best nights, when we were traveling. When it was all getting to us, when we had to hang onto ourselves. We had to know something was real, and the best anchor was... each other. Just sleeping with our bodies pressed up against each other. So it would feel safe enough to sleep, and... like we would still be ourselves when we woke up. But with the cycle, it's almost impossible to do that now. Something else which changed..."
The elder was now looking directly at Sun, and did so without pain. She was the only one in the world who could. And still the tears rose in her eyes.
A smaller body pressed against hers, and there was a moment when she could not reconcile the weight of the wings.
"You shared my bed," the younger quietly reminded her. "On the first night after the Return."
Automatically, "You were exhausted. We both were. I couldn't get you out of Ponyville for hours, I knew you'd been under Sun too long --"
"-- even knowing that the Nightmare was dead," readily interrupted the flow, "and I would be the one who woke." Nearly a whisper, "Or did you fear something else?"
The elder closed her eyes again.
"Fear." The word was almost heavy enough to crack the marble. "I was afraid that when I woke up -- it would be just that. Waking up to find that everything which had happened was no more than a dream." Whispering now, as the flow of semi-tangible mane and tail slowed, "Because I had that dream so many times, Luna. I didn't know who the Bearers would be, and when it came down to the last few years, my mind started to put Twilight into the group. But most of the time, you were saved by phantoms. There were nights where it happened in the ruins. One had the final confrontation at Star's old workshop. He was there in some of the dreams, with the others. And sometimes... you would be there. All of us together, facing the Nightmare. Dream logic, what there is of it: we were all together, so you had to be there. But I would always wake up, and it wouldn't be time yet, I didn't know if anything would work, and... I would always wake up. Wake up, and... you would be gone again. I..."
She took a breath. The huge rib cage shifted, and two sets of foreign feathers brushed against her fur.
"...shared a bed because you were back. Because it had been a thousand years, a thousand years, and I can barely think about that number. Not when I had to live through all of it, one second at a time, just for a chance. I stayed because I had to know you were really there. That it had worked, that I had you back after my mistake --"
Two sets of tears were falling.
"-- you did not know, Tia. It was the last thing you had to try --"
"-- I could have thought of something else --" And had spent a millennium of nightmares in wondering what 'something else' could have been.
"-- and I," the younger softly countered, "might have done a better job of seeking out somepony to speak with, in the last nights before it all took place. Before speaking with the last entity anypony should ever trust. I could have turned away. Question your actions as much as you might wish, sister: I had sufficient time during --" dark wings trembled "-- internal burial to do the same. But there is a saying in Protocera, is there not? Something which has never entirely taken root here, and might benefit our own citizenry if it had. We look back, we consider what might have been different --"
The younger's eyes closed, and every star dimmed.
"-- 'And no one would have suffered had they not been born.' The past is fixed, Tia. We cannot change a moment of it. But we are here, and this is now --"
"-- and that's what I was afraid of," the elder's pain broke in. "That I would wake up, and it wouldn't be now. It wouldn't be time yet, because getting you back was just another dream. I wanted to wake up and find you there. I needed that anchor. I..."
They stayed there for a time, pressed against each other. It was necessary and, just as much to the point, it was once again possible.
"More than four years," Celestia eventually whispered. "I should be better at dealing with this --"
"-- four," Luna interrupted, "weighed against a thousand."
Not without humor, "Everypony usually expects me to resolve a year's worth of disasters in about two seconds. I'm still off the pace."
"Yes. Well, we have what might be disaster sufficient for a decade brewing at our own gates," Luna wryly observed. "But as I have some personal experience with such things, I am prepared to allot us well over a minute. Shall we?"
They were using some of the secret passages. It granted them privacy and, in the cases of those travelways where they were the only ponies who ever used them, offered the opportunity to dust.
"I am hoping that the Tattler pursued its typical course of exaggeration," Luna declared as a field-held rag wiped down a trigger plate. "Even after having read both the article and the transcript of the palace's own interview with the one who was so unfortunate as to provide its base."
"A 'faction' within the palace," Celestia semi-quoted as her horntip scraped some built-up gunk out of a narrow crack in the stone. "Of true loyalists to Equestria, and that even fits in with the Tattler's usual definition of loyalty to the nation: going against everything we stand for."
"I regret not having been present when that one reporter expressed the sentiment in a way which Rainbow Dash understood," Luna dryly stated. "Fishing her out of the dam afterwards was somewhat less entertaining. Regardless, when it comes to our own staffs, I accept that there are those who are less than comfortable with Cerea's presence, and wish that she was not here at all. But I hardly believe they are working from within to rid the nation of centaurs. Orders have been followed: our keeping her within the cells would have 'leaked' long before the sighting. Those supposedly wishing to operate directly against us simply would have needed to capture a single image and send it to the press."
"But there were rumors," Celestia countered. "That we had her. Those were going around before Wordia."
"It was public knowledge that we were involved in the hunt," Luna reminded the elder. "To that degree, the presumption was a natural one."
"Rumors," the white mare darkly stated as the temperature flared within the shadowed passage, "still require ponies to spread them --"
Stopped.
"-- and this," Celestia quietly said, "is what they want. That we'll start doubting the ones who've sworn oaths, looking for enemies among those closest to us, and working to undermine them before they can do the same. I believe there's ponies on our staffs who wish she had never come here, Luna. Who hate coming to work in the palace during cycles when they know she's in it. But I'm not about to start questioning everypony as to where they stand, especially not when we know where this article came from. The numbers are being exaggerated."
Softly, the touch of moonlight sliding across stone. "And if they are not?"
"Then we," the elder declared, "are still in charge. Anything done has to get past us. They've been following orders, Luna. I'd prefer them to be happy about it -- but in this case, I'll settle for following."
"You will understand," the younger stated as the passage and cleaning efforts began to slant upwards, "if I continue to keep my ears rotated. In the event that we happen to be wrong."
With a small smile, "I don't expect anything else."
Several ancient layers of grime found new homes on cloth, which was followed by enjoying a fresh existence as ash. It was easier than sending anything through the laundry sixty times.
"How's Nightwatch?" Celestia checked. "I did see your notes."
Luna sighed. "'Stubborn' would be an accurate description. I have attempted to provide her with multiple courses of action. The first was to abandon the apartment for a time, while we set up surveillance to see who had been entering the building." Darkly, "Something which does very little if the one posting threats lives within, but hiding somepony on her floor would require an empty space. Such as her abandoned apartment."
"And she said no?" There was some genuine surprise in that, enough that it echoed longer than the accompanying hoofsteps.
"Even when offered the option to live at the palace," Luna confirmed. "I also stated that we would pay for a hotel room. Her excuse for refusing that was to say it could put the rest of those in the hotel at risk."
"Which doesn't apply to the palace, when they can't get in --" Celestia began to protest.
"-- and her excuse for that was that she did not wish for the threatening party to feel they had made her retreat. You might imagine that she combined the arguments when refusing to request the hospitality of another Guard. And as a final option, even knowing that you have had your eye on her at least once before with the prospect of cross-staff filching -- I proposed that she simply, and temporarily, move to the Solar shift. Twisting the hours in which others would expect her to be at home." Luna sighed. "However, 'stubborn' continued to apply. I did not quite reach the point of a direct order, not at this stage: some degree of her life away from the palace should remain her own. But I am sorely tempted. She believes they will do no more than threaten and leave behind things meant to trigger several kinds of nausea. And I would hope that she is correct, but..."
The younger fell silent, and so new echoes reached them.
"How far away are we from Apex Tower?" Celestia asked, because she knew the answer and several kinds of company were desirable when approaching the heart of expected misery.
"Another two minutes," Luna replied.
"And we're hearing them. Across that distance, through this much stone..."
"Yes. I suspect we will be soundproofing the forward offices tomorrow. This must be rather distracting."
And then they were looking at it. Something which took a lot of head turning and examination on multiple elevations.
The majority of the protestors were unicorns, because it was Canterlot and on her best day, Mrs. Panderaghast considered just about anypony cooperative from the other two races to be extremely temporary allies of convenience. It was in the same way a dirty face tried an allied napkin.
(It was rather hard for an organization which promoted the inherent superiority of unicorns to fundraise from earth ponies and pegasi: simply ordering them to donate didn't work, saying they weren't intelligent enough to decide how their own bits should be managed tended to backfire, and door-to-door visits meant talking to your lessers while being in range of the more physical counterarguments. However, CUNET did have a few non-unicorn members, which they trotted out at every opportunity to prove they weren't speciesist. Those ponies were real, tended to blush when somepony deigned to actually speak with them, and had signed on because anypony possessing that combination of deepest horn envy and near-fatal low self-esteem generally found a way of taking it out on themselves.)
But Canterlot had pegasi and earth ponies among its population. The capital had also been one of Tirek's first targets, and the sisters blamed themselves for that: all of the device and wonder shops in the Heart, the concentration of magic within the armory, and the chance to drain them. They'd done everything they could, and some of it had helped -- but the evacuations hadn't been completed in time. He had arrived much more quickly than they'd expected, even with everything they'd kicked at him in the name of mere delay, and...
It could be said, with complete accuracy, that nopony in Canterlot didn't know a minimum of one pony who'd been drained: the actual low number was closer to fifteen. Extend the connections across the social web, and it was also true that just about everypony had been at least passingly familiar with somepony who'd died.
They had been violated. They had lost friends, family, and lovers. The one who had done it was beyond their reach, and so all they had been able to do was seek help for their pain as best they could, at least for those who had been willing to admit help was needed.
But now there was a centaur in the palace.
CUNET's line was closest to the gates. Behind them, the diversity was considerably more scattershot: earth ponies, a number of unicorns who'd decided they had to be there and weren't going to get caught dead in the other line, those pegasi who'd reached the point where they needed a ground rest... and then you had intermingled zebras, yaks, several buffalo, and the city's one and only kudu family had decided this was a worthwhile use of a morning out. Higher up, pegasi were flying in protest formation, occasionally pausing to make room as the Aviary continued to empty itself out and Canterlot's near-microscopic griffon neighborhood found a new residence in the most mobile of the lines.
The first line started about six body lengths back from the gates. The ground-based crowd only began to thin out after an additional thirty, although part of that was because a buffalo was always going to want as much space as possible and few crowding ponies ever tried to deliberately trigger that droning protest chant twice unless they had found a way to use it as a weapon. And when it came to the air... they were looking down at all of it through a mobile cloud of feathers and fur. Along with a new veil of illusion, because neither sibling was stupid.
Both kept looking for a while. There was a lot to see.
"There are," Luna finally said, "rather more than I had expected."
Celestia nodded.
"Admittedly, there have been other times when the trend was for initial increase," the younger went on, keeping her words low. "Some are simply late to their public rage. Others wait for time off from work." She hesitated. "Regardless..."
"The numbers are going up faster than we thought they would," Celestia finished.
Darkly, "At least we are not at our theoretical maximum yet."
"Wait." And the elder failed to find a single tombstone's worth of graveyard humor in her own voice. "There may be ponies coming in on the next few trains."
They kept watching. Several zebras had brought cauldrons along, which turned out to be mostly full of water: this was the primary refreshment area for the non-CUNET protestors. Celestia wasn't entirely sure what was in the last specimen and 'lunch' was a possibility, but she didn't like the way in which the red smoke spiraled off the surface.
"We may have erred," Luna quietly considered. "I had hoped that our citizens would be able to see through the veil of their fear. But there are more ponies there than would be expected from the most local Tattler districts. More species. We brought her into the light, and they jump away from shadows which exist only in their memories..."
"You know what the other choices were." But the elder couldn't block out all of the doubt.
"Isolation," the younger nodded. "Two varieties from which to choose. But they remember Tirek, and apply all of it to her. Because they have no experience of her. They perceive a centaur, not even the same kind as before, and fail to see the girl..."
The smaller alicorn shivered.
"We must arrange for the first public meetings," Luna stated. "Quickly."
Celestia distractedly nodded, continuing to look down --
"-- oh, great." It was half a moan.
"Sister?
"Approaching on the far left. First touring class of the day." She was already turning. "I may need to send some Guards out there to make sure they get into the palace without a problem." Groaning, "And if there's anyone in that crowd who's angry enough, that makes them a target. With children around..."
"The police?" Luna inquired as she matched direction and pace.
"Already out there, at the edges. Supervising. And ready to make a move, but they're not wearing armor. The other option is that I go down there --"
"-- we --"
"-- my hours. You've arguably been awake too long already: you need rest." The mirth of the dead finally slipped in. "I'm also the bigger target."
"Who is seen as the lesser threat," Luna countered. "However, this is your part of the cycle, so the lead is yours. I simply stand ready to follow."
They hurried.
"I'm going to meet them in the gardens," the elder sighed. "Once they get through. Sun and Moon, anypony blocking them will just say they were trying to protect children from having to deal with a centaur..."
"I will join you."
"You," the elder firmly said as her right forehoof tapped the stone which opened the passage, "need sleep --"
"-- they are children," Luna evenly replied, slipping behind her sibling into the shadows. "The opportunity to meet the young seldom arises." Dark eyes closed. "And perhaps there will be no screams."
"Pegasi are usually the biggest problem," the sergeant snorted, wiry legs accelerating as he led the lone recruit towards the center of the racing track's oval and the new flock of training dummies which had been set up there.
There were also two buckets. It was very easy to spot the buckets, because they were the widest objects on the ground.
"Tell me why that is," Emery Board ordered, and did so without looking back. The words would come or the shout would demand to know why: either way, eye contact wasn't required.
It took a moment for the girl to sort it out.
"Range?"
"Is that a QUESTION? An observation? Or a GUESS?"
"...they can fly," Cerea tried, because experience was a teacher and in this case, the lessons came in the form of some very humiliating memories. "I've -- had to fight flying opponents before, and..."
That made him glance back, doing so just in time to spot the first wave of blush.
"What were their attacks like? When they were in the air?"
"...minimal," the centaur admitted. "One of them was capable --" her skin was beginning to provide an interesting contrast to the sweater "-- of sending insects out to attack for her. Stinging ones. I tried to block as many as I could, but... one got through, and --"
"One out of how many?"
She didn't know, and said so. "It was a swarm." Something which made it impossible to truly count.
"One," he repeated. "Out of a swarm."
The sweater was going to begin smoldering from the heat suffusing her skin at any second. "Yes. It meant I failed --"
"-- how were you fending them off?"
She briefly raised the sword.
"A swarm," the sergeant said. "Directed by an enemy, so it probably started going in from the front, then split off and went for your flanks. Trying to sting you in the areas which couldn't be reached. So you would have been moving all over the place to compensate, which meant continually exposing new vulnerable zones. Fighting them off with a blunt blade."
Cerea was silent. He'd described the situation accurately and as far as she was concerned, that removed all need for her to speak.
"And one got through."
Humiliation weighed down the nod, turning it into more of a head dip.
He was quiet for a moment. She wasn't sure how to deal with that.
"How about the rest of the fliers?"
"They had to descend to attack. Swoops, mostly. They relied on their talons. One of them had claws to go with them, but she also had six limbs. But none of them carried weapons, or tried to drop anything. The talons are weapons." Papi was kind, gentle, extraordinarily good with children -- and could gut most living creatures from shoulders to hips with a single swipe. "So they rely on hit-and-run tactics. It meant they had to close in before they could hit, but they'd also retreat if they thought I had a chance to intercept them."
"And all you had was the sword?"
"Usually, sergeant."
He stopped in front of the left-side bucket, which required some maneuvering to get around all the poles. "Look up."
She did. A dozen training dummies failed to look down.
There had been some extra attention paid to detail on the latest versions. They were meant to be pegasi and so they had been placed high in the air, with a single support pole under each belly -- but there were also wings. Flexible metal frames stretched out from the sides of every false pony, and each was adorned with what almost looked like the proper alignment of feathers.
Alignment -- but not hue. Just about every pegasus she'd seen had wings of a single color: the lone exception had possessed two. The training dummies had been decorated with the donations of dozens, and so the whole array looked as it had recently been assaulted by a suicide mission of psychedelic parrots.
"With one exception, your fliers had to close in," the sergeant summarized. "Tell me about pegasi."
"They... don't," she tried, and before the next shout could get past the inhalation phase, "They can attack from the sky and stay in it, because their attacks move to ground level without them. Wind, rain --" she hesitated, because there was something in her which really didn't want to say the next word any more than it wanted to experience being on the receiving end. "-- lightning..."
"They can," the old stallion allowed. "But it's more limited than they want you to think."
She held silent. Waiting.
"A pegasus works with what's in the environment," Emery Board told her. "They compress, disperse, and relocate. They can't create. A pegasus in the desert, with the sun blazing down and no humidity to work with -- the only cloud they're going to be weaving would be made from their own sweat. And the best can pull that off, but there won't be much in it. It means that most of the time, they'll rely on wind: gusts are something they can send ahead of them. But it takes a lot of wind to disorient someone your size. They'd have to get up to a tornado if they were going to get you off your hooves, and a funnel is something they have to stay with, flying around it to maintain the formation. Won't stop the smart ones from trying to drive dirt into your eyes -- but you're big enough to be wind-resistant, and you're not going to see tornado-level talents that often anyway."
He nodded towards the left-side bucket. She moved closer to it, carefully working her way around the poles so she could approach from a different angle.
"Any pegasus," the old stallion educated, "can learn any technique. All of them, if they care to try. It's not like unicorns, where they all have a personal capacity. But they don't necessarily have the strength to power the magic. Doesn't mean much if you understand how to create a funnel when you can't get the wind speed together. But there's another way they're different: they can operate in groups. Unicorns need to know a working just to put their strength together, that tops out at three, and everypony has to know the merger spell. Pegasi -- they just need to have the technique, and then they can contribute. But it's not unlimited, because magic is personal. Everypony works it in a slightly different way, and when you get enough differences in a small area, clashing against each other -- well, that's their backlash. It's called a tangle, and that's something Nightwatch can tell you more about. For now, I want you to focus on what a truly cumulative effort means when it comes to shutting it down."
He looked at her, eyes so close to stone under the brim of the unmoving hat. It was the sort of look which wanted an answer.
"Disperse the flock," Cerea said, "or lessen the numbers."
The sergeant nodded towards the left-side bucket again. "Take one. Don't squeeze it."
She looked down.
The light beige wood had been almost perfectly carved and fused into sphere form: she could just barely see the join lines on some of the closer balls. Each was about the diameter of her palm, and the first one she cupped shifted slightly against her skin as a tiny bubble of air allowed some of the internal liquid to move.
"A pegasus can send her weapons ahead of her, staying in the sky," he instructed. "But the only one most of them can really aim is wind. Unless you're dealing with one of the best, lightning does what it always does: seeks the tallest object, or goes for the right kind of metal. Guard armor is enchanted: it doesn't serve as a beacon. It means that unless you're the biggest thing in an open area --"
She wished he wouldn't talk about her size so much.
"-- there's no guarantee it'll hit you. Somepony with a mark for lightning -- they're the ones to watch for: they can pick out trees, and the best could choose a big branch. With the rest, most of the contact is going to be pure bad luck. But it can still put you out, if they're strong enough. So you need to shut that down. There's a few ways of doing that. And rain... heavy enough can disorient you, but it also makes it harder for the pegasus to see, even with their vision. Cools you off on the surface, brings you closer to the same temperature as everything else --"
She was staring at him.
"-- right," he brusquely declared. "Nopony got around to that with you yet, and Nightwatch didn't mention it because it's so natural to her, she didn't think about it. Pegasi can see heat. The adults, anyway. It's blurry for the youngsters, but it clears up when they're old enough for their own magic." Almost casually, while her eyes still refused to blink, "Can't shift the temperature around when you can't spot what you're working with. They'll maneuver on it as a last resort when the light goes bad, but the average flier hasn't practiced. And both of the Generals have their own version of a flash-bang trick to take that out."
She'd known Miia's vision went into the infrared: it was what allowed the lamia to home in on any source of heat in a room, such as a sleeping centaur who had retired to her rest with no expectation of being wrapped by scales. Cerea had once asked her what the colors looked like. Miia had thought about it for a few seconds, and then asked Cerea how grass tasted.
Miia could see heat -- and the tongue which occasionally flicked against the air possessed almost no taste buds. Lamias were just about pure carnivores: they could consume a few grains, but vegetables did nothing for them. They had no objection to half-rotten meat, because their bodies could process the stuff while never telling the brain just how foul it truly was. That was one of the factors which made Miia such a horrible cook: the inability to truly taste-test as she went along, and it was something she never seemed to truly learn from --
-- but she didn't know what grass tasted like. Or apples. Miia would never be capable of seeing a carrot as anything more than an annoying root which someone else insisted had to be added for imperceptible flavoring. And every so often, living among the other girls... the lamia would wonder what she'd been missing.
How did you describe a sense to someone who didn't really have it? They'd both tried. But all Miia had been able to manage was describing heat as being like the sort of chili pepper burn you could see, and only because she knew Cerea was so vulnerable to chili peppers. The centaur had tried to tell the lamia that grass was probably like having the world being carpeted in small mice. And that had been it.
Nightwatch could see heat, and hadn't mentioned that because it was natural for her. Cerea didn't talk about arms and hands and breasts because it was too awkward, and... she didn't know any other way to be.
"The worst they can usually do is hail," the sergeant continued. "Hail's the real nightmare, especially if they can get the stones up to hoof size. Hail can send an army running for cover. But unless they're hitting you on just the right day or got the area ready in advance, they can't set up for hail in a hurry. It takes at least a few minutes to tweak things that much: the hotter it is, the longer they need. And again, they need the moisture. So overall -- they can hit you from the sky, but the aim's usually bad. Unless they've got the whole area set up just right, they need to see you, and that means staying low enough that you might be able to spot them. A pegasus can look for heat through vapor -- but that's not always easy. So if they're looking down at you, it's probably through a hole they kicked in the cloud. That means you can see them. And once you see them..."
He nodded at the sphere.
"Checked with a zebra after the General contacted me," he told her. "I wanted a fresh batch for this. What you're holding is one of their weapons, and it's meant for use against pegasi. Closest translation in Equestrian would be whiffwings. Move out of the poles. Take the buckets with you."
She easily carried the twin masses along: the flat center of a raised grip meant for a jaw worked perfectly well for hands, and the weight was minimal. He stayed within the little jungle of poles.
"Stop." She did. "Take out the sling. I want to see how many tries you need to hit a wing."
The answer was three: the first sphere cracked open against a dummy's face, and thin purple liquid began to soak into the fabric. The second took a journey to the land of Utter Miss, and the last burst on impact as readily as the original --
-- the liquid thickened. Drips became stretching tendrils, those tendrils contacted the dummy's flanks, and artificial wings slammed against wooden sides.
Emery Board didn't look up. Didn't move, and certainly didn't smile. He just focused on the shocked expression of his recruit.
"Harmless until it touches feathers," he stated. "Then it turns into glue crossed with springs. A pegasus hit by this can flare their wings out enough for a glide, if they act fast. But it's going to be a constant strain, and as soon as they release the effort, that's it. Can't fly. The less they can move, the less magic they can access. So the natural followup, once you've got them on the ground, is bolas. Still waiting on those." He snorted. "Hard enough to find them around here in the first place. Needed to get those commissioned, and it's going too slow. But you'll try them out, once they show up. Brings us to the second type of sphere. That's the one I want you to squeeze."
She looked down again, face still locked into stun. The other bucket had white wood, even more fragile-looking than the first. She could see places where it appeared pre-cracked, and they almost seemed as if they had been arranged to line up with her --
"-- sized that for your fingers," the old stallion confirmed, and snorted again. "You give it one good grip before you load it into the sling: it'll crack on its own about ten seconds after that. The contents are called drydust. Sucks up moisture, holds it in a gel where the pegasi can't get at it. A cloud that's low enough for them to be confident in hitting you is one that's low enough for you to hit. Get enough drydust into the air and there's no cloud. Stationary targets today. Moving ones later. SO START THE SLING GOING! I WANT TO SEE WHAT YOUR ACCURACY RATE IS! AND THEN I WANT TO SEE HOW IT GETS BETTER WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE AN EXCUSE FOR IT! SCOOP, LOAD, SPIN, AND RELEASE! AGAIN! AGAIN! OH, FOR SUN'S SAKE -- AGAIN!"
She wasn't quite sure what gave out first: the contents of the buckets, the last of what had been in her stomach, or her eardrums. In the end, he allowed her to rest near the cottonwood long enough to take care of the second factor.
How to take on unicorns. How to neutralize pegasi...
"Sergeant?" His ears completely failed to perk. "Nearly everything we've been practicing is for... fighting ponies."
The old stallion nodded.
"We'll get to the other species," he steadily told her. "I've been working on that. You'll meet someone in a day or two. But we're starting with what you'll see the most of."
Someone: a sapient who wasn't a pony. But... "Are there other nations with ponies? Places which don't get along with Equestria?"
That triggered a snort. "Prance is just about all ponies. But having them separate is a case where we're all better off. Prance is... don't know if you've got it where you come from: that part of a country which everyone else wishes was outside the borders?"
She tried to tell herself the name was just a coincidence, and only mostly failed. Osaka. (It was supposedly full of idiots.) The United States was said to have Alabama, which didn't want anything to do with the other forty-nine anyway. And it was best not to bring up Belfast around Lala, because you really didn't want to hear a self-titled psychopomp talk about why an entire city needed to die. "Yes."
Another snort. "We got lucky. They never came in during the Unification, and they've spent centuries telling us it's because they wouldn't lower themselves far enough to be equal. But we've never had a war against them. They kick out insults, they tell us how inferior we are -- and they also know they're outnumbered twenty to one, so they usually say it while they're backing up. Prance's idea of a fight is to say they'll meet you outside and try to lock the door behind you." He slowly shook his head. "Came as a real surprise to the three I nudged out first. For the rest of the nations -- Protocera/Griffon Republic has a pretty significant pony minority, and we've had wars. Not for a couple of centuries, though. And the reason they've got so many ponies is because they don't leave kids behind. Anypony's or anyone's. The generations which grew up there... they just think like griffons. That modifies the tactics, and we'll go over that in a few days. Most of the other countries have at least a few ponies around. There's some exceptions. But you won't find many places that are just one species."
Except for the mountains. But that was presuming --
"You're starting with ponies," the sergeant neutrally stated the most basic of facts, "because the worst problems begin at home. That's how it's always been. Ponies are most of what you'll deal with. And with what you are -- there's going to be ponies trying to fight you. Because that's how they'll lie to themselves about not being afraid, or they'll decide it's the way they can get you out of the Guards." (She once again missed the implication.) "Because you took a swing at a local who'd tried to electrocute you, and they'll always find an excuse for their part: you're the one who's wrong for trying to live."
How do I go into the city?
How can I talk to anypony at all, away from the palace?
How do I make them see anything other than a monster --
"Lost a lot of Guards over the years, for a lot of reasons," and she tried to look as if she hadn't picked up on the scent again. "I'm not losing one to civilian stupidity." The old stallion slowly shook his head. "You know you're going to be fighting ponies soon. Guards. Already got a few lined up. But there's still some problems. Biggest one is armor."
Her ears perked.
"Armor?"
"DID I STUTTER?"
"...no, Sergeant..."
The living statue broke its one-pony formation, and began to pace. Back and forth, five of his own body lengths in each direction.
"Can pad you for the live combat exercise," Emery Board stated. "Just a matter of getting somepony to sew it all up, and you've already got a mare who knows how to fit you. Trick is not having it restrict the joints too much. But that's not what we'd normally use. Ponies don't come in the widest range of sizes: we can usually find armor that fits, or adjust a few pieces until something custom gets kicked out. But you --" his pace was accelerating "-- you're a set of engineering problems that nopony's ever seen before! Extra-flexible jointing on the arms! Sight lines like nothing they've worked with! And the upper waist -- what kind of musculature do you even have going there? How does anypony rig metal to turn that way? There's problems to solve, hundreds of different problems, and just because I can fix my own armor in the field doesn't mean I can stomp out yours! Been to five different smithies so far: three of them tried to close up on the spot, one of them is now booked for the next forty years, and the last stallion decided his mark wanted a change of career! Palace forge is the one which should do it and they can't say no, but there's too many problems for one smith! Nopony even knows where to start --"
He had been turning at the moment he said that word, each movement machine-precise. It meant he was equally smooth about coming to a rather sudden full stop.
"-- that's a smile, isn't it?"
She nodded.
"That's what a smile looks like on you," the sergeant observed. "You haven't smiled once since you got here. Why are you smiling?"
Cerea took a slow breath.
"I need some quills," she requested. "And ink. Plus a lot of paper. At least sixty pages. Please."
"And why," the old stallion asked in what might have been a false calm, "do you need all of that?"
"Because there are a lot of problems," the trained blacksmith told him. "But they've already been solved."
Celestia carefully nosed over to the next sketch. More staring ensued.
She was looking at the centaur's creations in her throne room, as the last minutes of her scheduled time ticked away. The throne's cushions didn't seem to be doing anything for the fast-building headache.
...I think that's for the fingers. Minotaurs didn't armor their hands: the general sentiment was that doing so cost them some degree of refinement for pressure and leverage. So if we split up the smaller pieces between multiple shops and don't tell them what they're working on, it'll go faster. But she wants to make the -- breastplate? -- and main back piece herself, along with the helmet. Which helps, because those are the giveaways on who it's for, and Barding is going to have his hooves overloaded with the lower portions. But... She cautiously flipped back a few pages. ...what does this even mean? Folding the steel and then reheating it, over and over? Adding a coating layer of carbon?
She'd never seen a forging process like this, not with extra ingredients and acids and just turning the metal repeatedly in on itself. But it was something the girl knew how to do...
An exchange student. But one who had been trained in blacksmith arts, who just knew how armor was supposed to be put together. Emery had come as close as he ever had to capering in place when he'd passed over the sketches: the hat had shifted by a whole quarter-hoofwidth. Who knows how to fight, who can make her own weapons and armor...
Was that what the summoners had been looking for? A new source of weaponry? A means of creating more and more things which could stand against magic --
...no. The girl had told the sisters that she couldn't replicate the sword's material. The armor was normal metal, albeit with a treatment which Celestia had never seen. The usual myriad of protective spells would need to be cast by others, and Celestia was dreading the discovery of how they reacted upon contact with the blade. The best hope was temporary neutralization.
We may need to layer this. Put most of the protection on the thinnest inner portion and hope the effect doesn't conduct. Her field took up a quill, added a few notes --
-- and the Sunrise Gate opened.
She recognized the hoofsteps before her head came up. "Hello, Glimmerglow," she smiled. "I know: I need to go greet my sister in a little while, and then there's dinner to consider. I promise I'll eat --"
But the pegasus said two words.
"He's back."
There was always a wind backblast associated with takeoff: the most anypony could hope to do was moderate it and in her rush to get off the throne, Celestia neglected any and all attempts to do so. The hardest-hit papers wound up plastered against tapestries, and most of the ink bottle was left soaking into the cushions.
She just didn't care.
"Where?"
"On his way up to the tower," the pretty mare said. "He thought you'd want to meet him along the way --"
-- and a very large body went directly over her head.
He had groomed himself before entering the palace: not because she expected him to, but because he had likely decided it would reflect poorly on her if he didn't. It meant that his clothing was fresh, the jacket elegant -- but he only had so many monocles, and nopony could wear one which was chipped around the edges without doing damage to fur and skin. Those which had been cracked were simply kicked away, he was waiting for his prescription to be ground, and...
The unicorn stallion squinted somewhat, when he turned to look at her landing upon the ramp, and it was the first thing he apologized for.
"Three weeks," he declared, "and it still wasn't quite ready when I returned. But she's the only one I trust to do it. She's simply been rather busy this season. Even so, Celestia, I should have been the one to take a chance on another, and so --"
She leaned in, nuzzled him before he could say another word. The nuzzle meant for friends, layered with heavy relief.
He nuzzled her back in the same way: one of the few who ever did. One of the only ponies who'd earned the right.
The white mare pulled back, looked down at him.
"You've lost more weight," she observed. "You can groom your fur, but not the body underneath. And there's fresh bandages under that jacket: I see the bulge." More softly, "You can't keep this up, Fancypants. Not indefinitely --"
"-- it won't be indefinite." It wasn't so much an interruption as smoothly tipping an extra ingredient into the conversational mix. "It ends eventually, one way or another." His head dipped. "Hopefully in success."
"You still can't keep this up. You're not meant for this --"
"-- speaking on another's behalf? Asking for help, when I can't explain exactly why I need it?" He slowly raised his gaze, focused directly on her in that special way: the one which made it feel as if they were very nearly the same height -- only with so much more determination in his eyes. "No, I am suited exactly for this. And before you can resume the remainder of the argument about how somepony else should take up this quest --"
He didn't stomp a forehoof: it wasn't in him. He simply leveled his voice, and that was worse.
"-- to the best anypony can determine, I was the last pony he spoke with before making his decision. I am responsible. And so I will not stop." The noble head inclined, and a foreleg briefly touched the bulge of a pocket. "Two."
"Two," Celestia breathed. "All right. Let's go up there."
"I am only here to pass these over and resupply," he told her as they moved up the spiraling ramp. "I believe I have a lead on another one. That requires setting out as soon as possible --"
"-- I need one day," Celestia cut in. "One day over and above what you intended, even if that was only an hour to start with. I don't know how much of the news you've heard --"
He didn't pause in his tread, and had to trot rather quickly to keep up with her longer legs in the first place. He simply suggested it in his tone.
"Yes," Fancypants said. "The girl." And with those two words, he reminded her of just why she cared about him. "I should have thought of that. My apologies. You need me to try and give her a chance among my own, yes?"
"As much as you can," Celestia agreed, picking up her pace. "You may wind up meeting her tonight, if you're ready for it."
The smile was a fairly weak one. "I've seen worse. Especially over the last few moons. A single centaur may turn out to be an improvement. How is she doing?"
"We'll talk about that on the way down." Because the top of the tower was coming into sight and with it, the edge of the carefully-constructed pegasus weave. "I have to let us in."
Her wings spread, began to subtly shift.
Two.
It was something. It just wouldn't be enough.
There was air in the tallest tower of the Solar wing, and it did not move.
The two ponies had half-bubbles clinging to their snouts. Air shifted within them, and small portions escaped to the world when each exhaled. But that air emerged into the tower, and -- froze. They did not move the atmosphere as they came into the room: they slid through it, and so all disturbance was minimized.
One of the most complicated pegasus techniques, to not only still all natural atmospheric movements within an area, but to have the air automatically shift in a way which allowed passage while nearly eliminating disruption. Something hardly ever used, because there was no need for it.
But it had been needed here, for the remnants of the storm were fragile.
It did not drift: it could not. Thin tendrils of vapor were held in place by the air, their colors twisting about each other. (The center had, over the course of several moons, assumed an increasingly-brown hue.) Tiny sparks occasionally showed themselves within the interior. They did so in the place of what had once been another kind of lightning, and always faded quickly.
The position had been oriented to the horizontal: if made to twist, it would be somewhat taller than Celestia. There were little suggestions of denser material within the curling mass, and hints of shape along the borders. It was possible, if squinting somewhat (which one was already doing), to imagine that some part of the western edge resembled a rather warped shoulder. An extension of mist and weakened, flickering energies suggested a tail.
But it was a storm, albeit one with odd colors. One where any air which touched it occasionally found itself trembling, nearly shifting to a liquid state. There had been a moment when Celestia had thought she'd briefly seen oxygen as pebbles, but -- it was too weak for that.
A storm resting upon an old, soft, salt-stained fainting couch.
The stallion's horn ignited, and two emeralds were brought out of the pocket: one roughly spheroid, with the other conical. But by the time they reached her, they were garnets, and they came to rest on the fabric as rubies. Something just as red as the twinned spots which sometimes appeared above the pillows.
The storm did not move. Did not respond in any way. The Doctors Bear had reported that there were times when one portion contracted and expanded, but -- irregularly, of course.
Charged. She'd had to train herself to sense the energies: it was a process which had a lot of vomiting involved. And now...
Her horn ignited. Sunlight licked at the edge of the shifting gems, sunspots flared --
-- something came out of the changing jewels. It was the sight of the invisible, the sound of vacuum, the heat of absolute zero, and it merged with the storm.
They watched as two small areas of vapor thickened, shifted, coalesced. One now looked something like the tip of a talon, and the other could be said to resemble a bit of antler.
But it was all that happened, and so they left the tower.
"We're running out of places to look," Fancypants softly told her once the bubble was off. "Safely, for the definition which can apply when searching for them. It won't be long before I have to sneak into places which are less than friendly towards Equestria, and then we'll be setting off for the unknown. And no matter what, there's only so many to find, Celestia, at least for what we can reach. It..." The breath came across as forced. "...may not be enough."
"Not enough on land," she corrected, her field setting the custom breathing mask down. "We know they're in the ocean. Mazein's supposed to be working on something which can stay underwater. I can talk to the Referee --"
It made him smile. "I suspect Rounding Moonsault will be less than happy if you request something without explaining why. Again."
"Then she won't be happy." Celestia was used to that. Mazein was Equestria's oldest ally -- but that was for the nation as a whole. The current Referee generally cooperated (and had to go along with the public vote), but had a few generally-unanswered questions regarding royal motives. "But I don't think most of the nations would donate willingly if they knew what we needed them for. They weren't happy about the parole to begin with: that's never changed."
I hated you...
She knew the thought had been in the past tense, and that it had also had the option to slip back into present at any time. But just then...
"They weren't there," the oldest mare in the world softly said. "They didn't see. I want the search to continue, Fancypants. I just don't know if you should be the one doing it. Going under the waves..."
"Something which can stay underwater," he repeated.
"Some kind of metal tube," Celestia reported. "With thick windows. Which may not completely work."
He considered that. Smiled.
"It sounds interesting. So. Is there a proper etiquette for greeting a centaur? Preferably one which Ms. Manners has taken no part in determining?"
It was a joke, and she wanted to laugh. But...
They keep asking about his condition.
Everypony who was there.
I hated you.
I hate you.
I don't want to owe you...
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Not taking a potshot at Florida and New Jersey must have taken restraint.
There are many, many things to talk about but I'm focusing on:
Did Rarity donate her fainting couch? Whatever The Mighty D did really inspired all of them.
Oh, jeeze. Did Tirek shatter Discord?
Hoo boy. That is some backlash right there. Public interaction should help, but first the public needs to be in a state where they won't attack Cerea on sight.
All these anti-pony tactics... I do have to wonder how Sergeant Board will handle any uncomfortable questions about earth ponies. And what happened in the past that led to the creation of those anti-pegasus potions.
And that last scene... yeah, bit of a problem there independent of Cerea. I suppose if Doctor Gentle's reserves are at all available, they've already been raided. We'll see where it all goes from here.
10254462
As I've had some evidence to suggest the rough majority of readers on this story are here for just this story, I'm going to explain this one for the room.
In my ongoing story Anchor Foal -- set before the appearance of Tirek -- there is a chapter where Fluttershy is on a date with Caramel. (This is not the story's ship.) Basic dinner-and-a-movie stuff. And in the name of getting a terrified mare to press tightly against a brave stallion to seek reassurance, Caramel makes the rookie move of taking her to a horror movie. The Beast With Five Fingers, which is built around a centaur rendered from exceptionally poor practical effects. The equivalent to a rubber suit, only with mouth-gripped zippers and a poorly-attached upper torso.
Caramel is expecting Fluttershy to freak out upon seeing it.
Fluttershy is a naturalist.
Her first reaction to seeing it is to begin considering its potential biology. And in short order, she diagnoses it with chronic joint pain, adds on breathing problems caused by having the nose that close against the face, then finishes off the whole thing by figuring out why it's the last of its kind. All of the others died from bowel torsion.
So from then on, every time the prospect of centaurs appearing in my work arises, there's a chance to get a local version of the fight, or someone's just anticipating Fluttershy meeting Cerea -- someone will state that at some point during the encounter, 'Shy is going to trot directly up and inquire, quite naturally and with little-to-no fear, whether that centaur is suffering from bowel torsion.
This is the kind of running Comments gag you get in my catalog.
...aren't you glad you're only reading this story?
Discordian era pegasi tended to be raiders, and they didn't necessarily limit themselves to what became Equestria. There were a few groups which tried to take their chances in unsuspecting territory, and that led to the zebras finding ways to knock them out of the sky.
This honestly makes me wonder how much Equestrian metal is compensating for technique with magic.
There is so much going on in this chapter! And it's great! Protesters in mass, a plausible traitor in the palace or at least a severely disgruntled pony, training, talking species tactics (love that by the way, it gives the verse substance I find. Great world building), shooting Zebra weaponry, armor and smithy, a secret mission for Fancy pants to find people or other stuff and talk of submarines!
This chapter is so full of plot tread and I love it.
But Man... Discord is in worse shape than I thought. What happened?! The plots thickens some more... and poor Fluttershy, must be worried sick. And wait... Discord is like a djinns or an Elemental, he IS magic given form and thought... is it because he is in such a state that those phenomenon where magic is all weird are happening? (Oh boy, better get my tinfoil hat
)
But what is Fancypant is searching for? Hybrids? Underwater? At that point I say Celestia should ask for help from Queen Novo or recruit Stevens the Sea Serpent for this quest.
As Estee ever done a Story with Steven? I think not sadly...
"Discordant"... Oooh... Is it gonna?
Yes! Woo! Oh, damn. That's a horrific reveal. Great writing, but
The Triptych readers know, about the violation... I assume this was similar, but hopefully just shorter...
And from that, we know he can regenerate... But it's just slow... But again, this is worse...
----
Discord being so prominent... This is a story about Cerea's appearance in Equestria, at least at first... So, how are the stories of these two characters related? Or, are they not?
Cerea is sure causing a lotta chaos.
Wait... ... Did the summoners want to summon an alternate Discord? Cerea is sorta like a chimeric being like Discord...
...
Hmm... Cerea's gonna be fighting guards... Is that gonna be a way for the guards to know her better?
10254493
Do you mean using enchantments to improve metal strength instead of making better metal? Or replacing physical / chemical techniques for better metal, with magical techniques of improving the raw material?
IIRC, ponies do have basically all the metals we do, except the radioactive ones... So I think they have titanium? *Not sure how good that really is for armor* ... We do know they have platinum...
10254518
from the sound of it, they have very little metallurgical experience. They have steel, but that looks about it. probably pre-industrial methods of production.
Cerea's process descriptions are rather basic methods of improving the metal. namely pattern welding or laminated steel. usually seen more in weapons, but probably improves armor qualities as well.
the carbon coating is a method of face-hardening, and can be incorporated into the above method.
i assume the acids are for examining crystal structure, or cleaning scale.
...so the whole array looked as it had recently been assaulted by a suicide mission of psychedelic parrots.
Reason #129 of Why I Love To Read Estee's Work.
...Prance's idea of a fight is to say they'll meet you outside and try to lock the door behind you.
Sounds like perfectly intelligent folk there. Practical. (Yes, I've done that)
You know, for Cerea's best weapon against unicorns, all you need is a bunch of Flim Flam's Amazing Wood Spackle from Twilight Spackle. Batter up!
(Another FFine Product)
Excellent chapter. Any time with Fancybis good and we get more Emery Board. The combat world building is interesting and we learn a bit more about Discord. The scattershot adoption of canon events after the first couple seasons has vexed me in some places within the ‘Verse, but this is a change I can get behind. It really wouldn’t work, after everything this version of Discord has done, for him to make a face-heel turn. I much prefer the thought that he fought for his friends and got disrupted badly. Discord can be much improved over his canon counterpart.
We’ve been getting a bit more of Cerea’s past. I am particularly grateful that this story is written in such a way that I don’t need knowledge of the Monster Girl universe to understand it. Kudos for that.
10254462
The smart thing to do is be upfront about it.
The pony thing to do is let it blow up in her face and nearly kill her, causing her to yell at someone for the first time in her life for letting that happen.
Sounds like F is looking for Chaos Gems. They did come from Discord, after all
A little surprised Daring Do isn't helping
10254645
Of course! That make lot of sense actually.
when everything else in my world is going to shit finding another chapter of one of your stories always makes it better. thank you for another wonderful chapter
10254507
"But what is Fancypant is searching for? Hybrids? Underwater? "
No, he's searching for chaos gems, [1] like the ones Celestia just used to boost Discord a bit. Man, no wonder Fluttershy is down on Centaurs.
I wonder if Estee has any French fans, and if so, how thick their skins are? Somewhere between "rhino" and "walrus", I figure.
[1] Also known as Deathstones, they play a prominent role in "Triptych"
10254716
As a french Canadian, we have have very thick skin and can feel some empathy for our cousins overseas too.
We know we are the part the rest of Canada would like we didn't exist and like the French, when we are faced with the insults and jeers from the rest, we goes for the same answer: the feeling is mutual!
Edit: I also read Triptych. I just didn't make the connection with the jewels scene, associating the changes to the rocks to Discord unfocused state.
I think Emery's swiftly discovering a hatred for her mother, Cerea would be even more of an astonishing candidate if she wasn't so browbeaten. I wonder, does this offend his Mark, working with someone who was so plainly trained in the wrong fashion?
Oh? So ponies never invented Damascus then? This will be a revelation indeed, and everypony with a smithing Mark will be horrified that it was a centaur that had to show it to them.
Aiet. Discord, what did you do?
Gonna love moment when Cerea tells Celestia that steel armor is completely obsolete and no one is partaking in glorious hand to hand combat (hoof to hoof?) anymore
I suppose if you can strengthen armor with overlaid spells, there's less incentive to develop advanced metallurgy: although in that case one wonders why the less magically ept Griffons and Minotaurs didn't do so. They hire Unicorns to enchant armor for them?
Random thought: Tirek was able to swallow Discord's magic with no trouble in his initial show appearance [1], but we don't know how that works in the Triptych-verse: maybe Discord saved the day by sacrificing himself, feeding his magic to Tirek until he exploded into circus peanuts or something?
[1] In the final episode it was shown that using Discord's power deliberately is pretty much impossible (save for Pinkie Pie), which would seem to contradict this, but I suppose you can excuse this by saying "Tirek stole it but didn't actually use it".
If that's discord she's talking about, I wonder if he's still cognizant
Cerea hasn't told anyone about her knight heritage yet has she? Also do they know that she can smell emotions? And finally, upon hearing a description of tirek I'd be surprised if she doesn't sound like the centaurs version of the devil.
Unless you wander into Ponyville, in which case you've got Rainbow Dash and then Scootaloo.
And I say that with all seriousness. "Monsoon Season" had her generate an EF-0 dust devil while on the ground, standing still.
10254456
I don't think that's Rarity's...I think it's Fluttershy's
Ohhh damn that end...
Also as I have started rewatching forged in fire I’m now imagining a non human version of it.
"He slowly shook his hand." Emery Board has hooves, doesn't he? Or maybe that is a typo for "head"...
10254493
Ah, you noticed that too huh? I mean, in a word where magic is so prevalent it is only natural for the ponies to leverage it in every way they can. But that doesn't change the fact that their nation (and the world) has stagnated technologically as a result. I'm kinda wondering exactly what palace smith's reaction would be to seeing these techniques, awe at something so groundbreaking or derision at something so obviously inferior? And I kinda had a daydream where the smith derides it and Cerea asks for a test. Have them strike their unenchanted armor, their enchanted armor, her unenchanted armor, and her enchanted armor with a war hammer and take note of the results. I'm imagining that there would be a NOTICABLE improvement with Cerea's version.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Also, yeah, Emmery has certainly noticed Cerea's issue with her confidence. Seriously, she was ashamed that a single insect got through out of an entire swarm. She's literally incapable of understanding how impressive a feat that is. I'm curious t see how you have him address this as the training goes on.
And lastly, you apparently had Fancy be the last individual Discord talked to before he was... indisposed? Interesting to think of what that conversation would have entailed that made Fancy believe he was responsible for what happened. It is certainly ironic that they're trying to figure out a way to search the sea but don't know how to creat such an invention. And this comes just after Celestia noted Cerea's skill as a blacksmith, yet they simply would never even think of asking her. Cerea might not know much at all about how submarines work, but she would have a general idea and at least confirm that it is possible. The needed information is so close to them, yet still so far away.
10254518
Titanium is exceptionally resistant to deformation, but it isn't hard enough to function as armor, at least against ballistics. Its main use is for lightweight structures. It also becomes very soft when heated, so it's easy to shape when forging.
Boron carbide is an extremely hard ceramic used in various forms of armor, but I doubt Cerea knows how to make that.
Pattern-welded carbon steel is what she's teaching Equestria to make. A proper suit of plate can't be pierced by blades, even if you strike at a perfectly perpendicular angle; the blade will just flex and deflect, so you have to go for joints and other gaps in the armor. Arrows and crossbow bolts, as well, will bounce off unless they strike perfectly, and even when they do, they won't penetrate far enough to inflict a serious wound.Blunt attacks to the joints and head are the way to go, but ponies have enchantments to deflect and disperse impact energy.
Add those enchantments to a coat of plates made with modern techniques and you'll have quite the robust centaur.
What in tartarus happened to Discord?
A (extraordinarily) bad reaction to Tirek stealing his magic, maybe?
I hope to hear Emery's opinion of how Cera's mother trained (and broke) her ... even more I want Cera to hear it.
Chaos emeralds.... of course.
10255069
No! Stop! We will have a red 'punching everything" echidna and a blue hedgehog running around! This story can't take another crossover.
it be funny if one of the first steps to stopping ponies seeing her as a monster she did unintentionally, as they get some blacksmith specialist ponies in to assist her in making the Armour bits, and of course they start of terrified of her but as she starts folding the metal and doing her blacksmithing, they get so caught up in the techniques and unknown methods that they forget that, become enraptured students watching a master,
10254784
Which is what the show did with Tirek saying he didn't directly use it.
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Titanium is more than hard enough to function as armor. The reason we don't is how it transfers kinetic energy, namely in a straight line, which is very bad for whatever happens to be beneath it; be it soft squishy organs, or sensitive electronics. There's also the fact that titanium is far harder to work than steel. Mix those two together and that's why Ti isn't used as armor.
10255037 You said, quote:
Hence why I replied to "drowning", YOU brought it up.
Not just the media is working on that crowd? Or are there groups using rail and mail to raise qorries excessively in towns and countries to attract numbers far faster? Or am I badly underestimating the shere demand, even given Canon occurances which were not anywhere near as descibed ijn this AU?
Looking at Boards description of Pegasi Lightning jokeys made me think of something. On Earth, if Cerea has seen the documentary or otherwise aquired the information, The Cloud to Earth lightning stroke is the low power Feeder, searching out the weak transmission channel in the atmosphere. The Psychotic Return Stroke, starting at the Ground and screaming upwards along the preionised plasma channel at a sizeable fraction the speed of light is the one that carries mind boggling energies and power levels.
Pegasi have the Thunder head to source Lightning. an Earth Pony has the Ground? All of It?
I wonder what happens on Equestria if the planetary currrent flow between Ground and Sky could be focused down into one single Arc?
Dont know much about titanium except things like its expensive, said to be difficult to machine? Used as the armoured tub for the pilot in the A-10, and in the last year, shown to be duplicatable by carefully processed bulk wood? As in strength to weight, bending etc, and quite definitely extremely fire resistant due to having little open structure for air to get in and combust with?
Its a pity that Pinkie, if interacting with teh energies and her capabilities, couldnt grow the required gems on her farm. Maybe if Cerea has heard of Liquid Crystal Displays in passing from her time in Japan, even just the name would do, because Liquid Crystals are naturally occuring in increadibly rare occurances, and might have the properties required? Or at least might only be fractional properties, but being able to be mass grown could compensate in quantity?
As for searching the depths, better to use cut and polished gems than glass. In fact, depending on availability, might end up making the living bubble or even the entire vehicle out of a prepared gem, given Sapphire etc is a Lot stronger than steel, and is the definition of Crystal?
At least the Zebra anti pegasi devices didnt include the third option, which started off by throwing flour around? Dry dust to absorb water, makes great water gel based armor, but if thats flour dust, and you ignite it before it manages to get wet. Well, generally Pegasi is one of the last things you have to worry about. If you survive it, your next problem is dodging all the Kenturky Fried Chicken?
Should that perhaps be "takeoff" instead of "takeover"?
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"Wait, are you telling me those monkeys can do WHAT with aluminium?! For cheap, in mass scale of production, and WITHOUT MAGIC?!"
Not only metallurgy. For example, Most Earth Pony farmers are ignorant of agriculture techniques like crop rotation.
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My understanding of that is that the mental instability caused by Discord’s magic is why Tirek started blasting random trees for no reason.
That was one of the factors which made Miia such a horrible cook: the inability to truly taste-test as she went along, and it was something she never seemed to truly learn from --
this reminds me of a silly story called "cooking roach" by Bucking Nonsense, where a Changeling named "Rochelle" gets involved in a cooking contest, even though she has no taste buds...
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The Cornucopia Effect does tend to compensate somewhat for that. Again, it's a case where magic is the "tech tree", so problems like that end up being attacked in completely different fashions than a magic-poor or no-magic society would.
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It sounds like the steel is being case hardened too.
"They didn't pass along their lies through a direct tap into the target's senses: that was a changeling's dominion"
Oh, interesting.
"Fishing her out of the dam afterwards"
...Was that supposed to be "reservoir", or something, or was this incident, ah, particularly energetic?
"And the reason they've got so many ponies is because they don't leave kids behind. Anypony's or anyone's."
Also interesting! I don't recall whether that was in the blog post covering them; it's been a while...
I can also think of a few possible meanings for it.
"to begin with: that's never"
"to begin with; that's never"?
Well, quite a bit of stuff in this chapter! Thank you for writing. :)
(I also tried to put some more effort into error-spotting-and-reporting this time, after what you said before; sorry I may have let it slacken sometimes in the past.)
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I've always assumed that Tirek's power and the Bell work differently. Tirek uses magical energy as fuel to boost him innate abilities making him stronger, bigger and able to fire power blasts. The ball transplants the abilities of the previous victim onto the target. Thus when Tirek absorbs Discords power he gets a huge charge but not actual access to Discords reality shaping abilities where as the bell gives you all Discords abilities which then cannot be controlled because control is an invalid concept to the powers of chaos.
Since this chapter appears to have inspired interest in armor I would recommend the YouTube channel Knyght Errant as an excellent starting point for people who want to know more.
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Okay, yes, it is plenty hard enough to serve as armor against melee weapons; I guess the effectiveness against modern guns isn't relevant here.
And by easy to forge, I guess I also meant that it is very soft at the proper temperature. Thin sheets for plate would cool more rapidly than an anvil block, so you're right about it being hard to work with for anything other than a huge, solid block.
Nevertheless, it really isn't suitable for armor except as structural framing. In any case, I doubt that Equestria has large quantities of titanium lying around in storehouses.
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I don't think 'offend' is the right word. However, I don't have a single word for 'that delicious, small little shiver you feel deep down in your gut when you find the place where the maths/structure/art went wrong and NOW you can start putting it right'.
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I mean, she was moving her wings, at least. That only makes it SLIGHTLY better, though.
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Just for clarification, the way it transfers kinetic energy is still a problem in melee. If you look at modern live-steel events, most fighters still shy away from Ti in favor of Steel for the same reasons you wouldn't want to use it in a gun fight. It's got some amazing properties, unfortunately its one detractor is a HUGE one. :\
Furthermore, the hardest part of working it is the required temperatures of ~3000F (~1650C) that's notably higher than Steel at ~2500F (~1370C). It's not so big a deal with modern tech, but barring any magical forging methods, getting that kind of heat in anything other than the modern era is going to be prohibitive. In fact, my favorite part about the SR-71 project is the fact that they had to invent the engineering techniques to make the frames of the aircraft out of Ti. Prior to its development in the 1960's, there wasn't any practical applications of Ti.
Edit for clarification: No one had used Ti for frames prior to that. Small, temperature sensiive components like the ducts of jet engines and fans in said compressors, etc had used small amounts of Ti...but nothing on such a large scale.
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Well, ripping on Jersey is kind of cliche' nowadays, and most of the unpleasant aspects of Florida are just too weird to hate properly.
You see a headline where some dude shoots up a bridal shop because he decided to marry an alligator while high on shrooms, but was turned away when he tried to bring it in for a fitting.
(not an actual story, but that's the level of WTF we're talking about)
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It gets worse when you consider that Discord in this verse' is made of chaos magic rather than just having magic. Missing magic means missing chunks of whatever his version of organs are. Maybe brain damage as well.
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My headcanon for centaurs is that the human torso is all heart and lungs, with the digesting bits in the equine half. The manga has Cerea being a strict herbivore, which suggests a single digestive system, and you having her being extra bendy at the "waist" suggests that there aren't any organs in the way.
Weird chemical weapons do seem to be the sort of thing zebras would come up with.
If they were feeling especially nasty they would poison one or two of their crop rows so any raider has to play Russian roulette with whatever they steal.
A zebra with cooking pot should be considered armed and dangerous.
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I've commented before that the general trend for ponies in this verse' is to use enchantments as a substitute for proper design and manufacturing.
It's a little weird that ponies don't know the fundamentals of metallurgy, because they can crank out enough steel to build railroads and one would think that minotaurs would have figured out proper blacksmithing.
Are ponies using magic to purify the ore, or are they just enchanting crude iron to be tough and shiny?
Magic should let them get the smelter hot enough to cook off impurities, and once you can do that, you can skip a lot of the other things smiths had to do to make good metal.
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At minimum, Nightwatch knows: