In a story, the filly would have turned the page. Something which might have been interpreted as a major scene had just ended and unless she was starting to feel some major concerns about being caught up reading far past her bedtime, the most crucial thing to do was clearly starting on the next chapter. Besides, if it was a decent tale, then continuing to follow the adventurer on their path was clearly prioritized over mere sleep. Especially when a truly quickening plot pace could easily do the same to the filly's heart. It was rather easy to become too excited to sleep, when stories were just about all you had. And besides, her mother was a very large mare. One whose natural instinct was to move with authority. Solid, heavy-hooffalled authority. When they were both inside the house, the filly could hear her mother coming from what felt like a kilometer away: something which had allowed lights to be extinguished, books to be hidden and, if the door was opened, sleep to be faked.
Make everything which had happened from the start of the party into a story, and the filly would have just turned the page. A simple rustle of paper, and there would be a meeting with new companions. Perhaps the author would skip ahead, bringing matters back to the reader's eye once everyone was on the road. But... all it took was a simple movement. Stories progressed in a way which life did not.
Place the same events within reality, and Cerea wound up with time to kill.
The Princesses had told her that there was a full briefing being prepared. There had to be a briefing, because whatever Tirek was doing hadn't attacked a settled zone yet. It was something which appeared to give the palace some time. Of course, it was possible for things to change at any moment and should events surge to the level of immediate crisis, then royalty would act accordingly. But for now, they had to arrange the materials for a briefing. One where there would be more than just Cerea present, because the Princesses were calling in the Bearers.
(She didn't know very much about the Bearers. Based on what little had been mentioned, she'd been picturing an elite military unit: a direct Equestrian equivalent to the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales. The fact that nopony seemed to want them at any parties only served to reinforce that impression. Everyone knew about the kind of property damage which a good special forces unit could create just by going on vacation.)
But the alicorns hadn't been able to tell her exactly when that briefing would take place, and there was very little point to having her stand around the Solar throne room until everything was ready. So, with no real orders beyond not leaving the palace and being sure to come back when she was called for, they'd sent her out the Sunrise Gate. And she'd managed to exit with all four hooves moving in some kind of rhythm, closing the doors behind her.
She'd kept her bearing more or less steady until the moment she was blocked from sight. Checked the hallway for staff ponies and Guards, seen nopony at all, been briefly grateful for the holiday...
...so much of what Cerea felt herself to know about humans came from their stories. A number of the better efforts had been rather good about describing posture. When she pictured what a human would have done after receiving that kind of news... in a story, they would have found a private spot. Something with a wall. And then they were supposed to sort of sag backwards against it. This tended to manifest as a lean, where most of the contact with the supportive surface would come at the scapulae and bracing palms. The head had the option to either press the rear of the skull against the wall or have the chin tilt down: either was acceptable. But at the core, the posture was meant to represent several kinds of exhaustion, along with trying to remain standing under the burden and crushing weight of responsibility. Telling the reader that, at least for a moment (because a hero would always find a way to rally), the wall was just about the only thing holding the character up.
There were very few positions which would allow a centaur the chance to brace the back of her shoulders against a wall, nearly every last one involved a very short-term sort of verticality and, outside of the palace, most of what they would have done was allow Cerea the chance to crack her skull on the ceiling just before she crashed to the floor.
In Japan, she constantly compared herself to the humans. Everything about her body, along with the way that form moved.
She had applied for the program, and began to think about herself in terms of what humans wanted. Desired.
Shortly after coming to the household, there had been dreams --
She probably watched those from a cloud too.
Or not. Cerea was sure she would have noticed a cloud in most of those scenes. There just wasn't enough ceiling height available in the household's master bedroom.
The long body turned. The left flank leaned against marble, and the palace readily took her weight. One shoulder awkwardly turned somewhat inwards, and one breast was pushed into the other: something she could clearly see because her head had dropped, and that was most of the resulting view because her hair hadn't fallen in front of her eyes. There seemed to be very little point in trying to get an ear against the wall: anatomy still posed problems in that area and in any case, the marble was thick. She probably wouldn't be able to hear what anypony was saying.
That was how a centaur collapsed against a wall, when pressed down by the weight of a burden which might be too great to bear.
A hero would rally.
A knight.
I'm not --
It felt unnatural.
There was... a certain vibration in the marble. Something low-level, which she could only detect when this much of her form was in direct contact. It was similar to the little rumble which seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the air. Another reminder of the protests outside.
How many...?
She only held the position for a few seconds. There was a chance for somepony to come down the corridor at any moment and besides, every breath seemed to make things that much worse. And then she pushed herself away from the wall, hooves sounding on marble as she began to create some distance between herself and the throne room.
It was a rather slow walking pace. There was nowhere to run.
Time to herself. Time in which the same thoughts could just keep going around in her head over and over and --
-- I need something to do.
She couldn't go back to the gardens. It had taken enough effort just to give her a path the first time. Families had been displaced, families who were touring on a holiday because they hadn't seen a newspaper yet. She'd had to force her way out the first time and --
-- it was a bluff.
Her actions of the previous night had already reflected -- 'rather poorly' felt like it deserved its own category of understated -- on the palace. Creating a second riot prior to the next sunset --
-- Sun-lowering --
-- fire engines, maintain orbit, cross horizon --
-- had felt like a rather bad idea. But she'd needed a plan for dealing with royalty. An exit strategy, and just as with any other plan she'd ever come up with for leaving a gap, it had existed as something which could be defined by its flaws.
She'd attacked her liege and she hadn't been discharged from the ranks.
She'd disobeyed direct orders and nopony had turned her out.
It had left her in a position where she'd wound up conducting a frantic mental rundown of every offense she knew which was guaranteed to get a human fired.
Cerea didn't even know how to commit sexual harassment against a pony.
Maybe it had something to do with the buttocks. Squeezing a buttock was considered to be just about universally offensive across nearly all cultures and species, including liminal ones. It didn't happen often with centaurs because it took an exceptionally stupid stallion not to recognize that most of the positions which allowed them to squeeze were also the same positions which allowed the mare a rather swift retaliation, but it was certainly offensive.
Except that ponies didn't really possess squeezing capabilities.
...it had been a stupid thought. (She often felt like nearly all of her thoughts qualified for that status, especially when she was trying to make a plan.) It had just been one of the few she'd recognized as being such before it had broken all the way out of the gate.
Cerea had left the barracks on a quest to accomplish a single goal: to be removed from palace service. She understood what the position of Guard truly meant now: taking responsibility for the safety of the world. It wasn't just something she couldn't manage: it was a task no one of sanity should have ever assigned to her in the first place. She wasn't suitable. And she'd felt that way before learning a little more about the nature of the entity she was supposed to be guarding...
...her mind felt as if it was moving in circles. It wasn't leaving her hooves with much of a direction. The palace seemed to be flowing past her like a river, and it was hard to find any true features within the stream. Every so often, she would place a palm upon the nearest wall. A moment of bracing, or -- seeing if the vibrations had changed.
It was also possible that she was regularly checking her distance from the wall because if exhaustion and burden ended with her slumping over, at least the wall would be right there.
She'd created a goal for herself: to be discharged. And just like her plan to escape from her gap for a single day, it had arguably worked. With both goals, there was an argument to be made for a spectacular amount of unintended fallout.
Cerea had gotten exactly what she wanted. (In fact, there was a way in which she'd oversucceeded: she'd had no intention of trying to keep the disc.) Perhaps Mazein would welcome her -- or at least, not be quite as openly terrified. And all she had to do in order to take her out of a position where she seemed to be creating a new disaster every week and, just incidentally, had assumed some degree of responsibility for the entire planet -- was to go on a mission which had the potential to create endless disaster, because merely participating seemed to indicate a chance of having just assumed responsibility for the welfare of the entire planet.
But once that was wrapped up? Goal achieved.
The girl had a certain talent for self-directed dissection. This came with a lesser skill in locally-targeted sarcasm. The two often teamed up. And in the wake of that meeting, Cerea couldn't even manage to darkly congratulate herself.
Do something. Don't just trot. Find something to do. Something which isn't thinking.
But it couldn't be the gardens. Princess Celestia had given her the destination she'd never truly intended to reach, and...
...what had she been seeking, huddled in the shadow of the statue at the summit of that cold peak? She'd spoken to the stone, because it felt like something she was supposed to do. Trying to explain her reasoning, how she felt about all of it, failures and intrusion and everything which meant she had to leave, and she'd said it all to the statue instead of Nightwatch because stone ears didn't truly listen. A smiling mouth made of rock couldn't deliver a counterargument.
Don't go to the barracks.
Don't wake her.
Let the medication keep her asleep until I've left.
I've done enough damage. Her apartment. Her injuries. Her life.
Don't wake her because I did all that and if she knew what was going on, she might still try to talk me out of it.
That's what a true knight would do.
If it all works out, then I leave before she ever knows I was going at all.
Without my getting the chance to hurt her any more.
It's... better that way.
The girl hadn't been seeking counsel from the statue, not in the sense of expecting to get any words back. You could speak to the dead forever, and it would just provide the chance to reflect on how certain parties had a distinct advantage in maintaining long silences. After a while, you started to fill in the other side of the conversation on necessity, and what was better than the words which were already moving through your mind?
What had she been searching for, huddled in the snow upon the little mountain? To be told the decision to leave had been the right one, and Cerea would have been the one telling herself that. Affirmation, delivered from within. Echoes.
But echoes distorted.
There had been more than one voice to hear in the snow. They just hadn't been Cerea's.
"Do the job."
She couldn't.
"What if the world needs a centaur?"
Then the world had exceptionally poor ways of judging its needs.
"I don’t want that to be me. A Guard who... abandons somepony.”
They were better off --
What if I make the LAST mistake?
How could anyone take on the duty of a Guard, knowing that one error could mean the end of the world? Especially when it was someone who, when it came to making mistakes, seemed to do very little else.
I'm scared.
'Terror' was more appropriate.
I think that might be a good thing.
It wasn't...
But all the silent statue had done was take its eternal stand.
More hoofsteps. She found a ramp, went up without much thought, made the next turn with even less. Empty hallways. Closed doors. Heartbeats drowned out by the steadily-increasing noise, and she desperately longed for the same thing to happen with the endless thoughts.
The girl braced her right hand on the wall again. Felt increased vibrations moving through her palm, even as the rumble in the air started to hiss...
Overlapping terms. Not unfamiliar words. It's like what happened at the press conference. There's too many things to translate.
There was a curtain up ahead, less than two meters away. Something where the fabric looked both heavy and new, with oddly greyish sunlight trying to fight its way past the folds.
She didn't recognize this part of the palace. Not in daylight. But a window meant she had to be up against one of the outer walls. And if the rumble was this loud, with the translator fighting to isolate words, then the protesters --
-- the girl had longed to stop thinking and for the most immediate part of her next action, she received her wish.
The centaur stepped forward. One hand grabbed the curtain --
What's the population of Canterlot?
The girl doesn't know. It's the sort of thing she'd expect to come up in her citizenship classes, and that means it's probably in one of the textbooks. But she can barely read any part of them, hates asking her only friend to help her look ahead in the course. It means she's been waiting on the teacher and based on the way Mr. Trotter likes to illustrate facts by telling a story about a relative who had to deal with that aspect of Equestria's society, she suspects at least one percent of the total is composed of his uncles.
She doesn't know how many sapients live in Canterlot. So she can't know what percentage of that population is represented by the screaming mob outside.
However, a reasonable estimate might be 'all of them'.
...which might be understating the case. After all, the newspapers do get some distribution outside the capital. Given the amount of time that's passed since the initial printing, Ponyville's probably received a few copies. Allow those citizens to get on the first trains out...
There's no hope of making an actual count. Her window isn't at the absolute front of the palace, but off to one side, near the forward edge of the Solar wing. It leaves her viewing at an angle (and serves as the central reason why nopony spots her: they're largely staring, chanting, and screaming more or less straight ahead). So she's seeing a slice of the pie. Take an entire society, bake at the high temperatures of terror and watch it erupt through the crust of civilization.
The terror is a presumption on her part. Normally, even with some of the better-built human residences, she would be getting some impression of the scents outside. But this window isn't just closed: it's sealed. Perfectly airtight: something where pegasus magic can assume responsibility. It leaves her with nothing more than the visuals, because the audio has yet to resolve out of overlap and endless hiss. But she knows that terror can wear any number of masks. The majority of those teeming outside the gates (and some press against them, cause the metal to sway) have donned an exceptionally thin veneer of incandescent anger, and some of the rest... haven't even bothered with that much.
They're terrified. Because it happened before. Because they've just been told it can happen again. And now they want to know what their rulers are going to do about it.
The girl cannot scent what's happening outside, and there's a moment where she's grateful for that. The sheer intensity would have a chance to overwhelm her.
The portion she experienced within the walls was bad enough.
It's why she doesn't believe the alicorns were lying to her.
She did briefly consider that they were trying to lock her away in a rather more final manner than before. Make her trot into her own prison. But it would have been too complicated. Facing both of them at once -- she feels like she barely held off the intruder during a dream. Both of them at once -- they would have attacked her as a team, knocked her out and then dragged her to the true cell. But...
...she's picked up other signatures from the Princesses in the olfactory world: concern, tension, traces of amusement. And it's possible to fake a scent. There are chemicals which can do it, although you'd have to know the exact breakdown of the mood you're trying to simulate. The easier method is to determine the emotion you want to project, and then bring up a memory connected to that mood. Relive it, over and over. Work yourself into an artificial frenzy and eventually, the body will respond appropriately.
With the dark mare, she might have believed it. (Present nearly anything negative about that one in the wake of what happened in dream, and the girl just might believe it.) But the white alicorn... the girl wants to think better of the elder and, after learning that Princess Celestia knew about the invasions, is having some trouble with that. She is no longer fully certain regarding either ruler's benevolence.
They could have been lying about the offered deal: easy enough to go back on your word, when you lead a nation and nopony has the authority to override you. But for what they said about everything which had happened in the wild zone...
The words, for the most part, had been measured. Calm. Even. But in the olfactory world, the alicorns had reeked of worry. And... beyond.
The girl is staring out the window. She can't count bodies from her angle, not with the way they're all moving. But there's barely any space between them. The ground is covered by a multihued moving carpet of fur and fear.
There's a little more space available in the air, but no pegasus is in the right place to spot her. The vast majority seem to have remained on the ground. Most of what's in the atmosphere consists of those who are desperately wrangling in cloud cover, clearly intending to rain the whole thing out. The few protesters who've taken to the air are screaming at the weather team. Sometimes they do so from a few meters away. Less than one. Close enough to have feathers threatening to intermesh.
Those curses are scattered, disorganized. The ones on the ground seem to have settled into a chant and after a few seconds, something begins to resolve from the cacophony of waking nightmare.
"...centaur/centaur/centaur/centaur/centaur..."
They aren't demanding to learn what their leaders are going to do about it.
They want to know what the palace is going to do to it.
I'm not him.
They don't understand that.
They can't.
Right now, they don't want to.
She doesn't have to know the formula for gunpowder to recognize what's happening outside as a leaking powderkeg.
One spark...
It's more than that. The news of her mere existence had triggered suicide attempts. With a story spreading about magic drain...
Ponies are being hurt in every moment she exists here.
More ponies may have already died.
Tartarus is for those who actively attempt to destroy the world. She has merely shaken it to the foundations. Societies built on different principles, ideas, hopes and dreams -- but perhaps they all share the same base. Magic. Something which feels as if it can collapse.
There are times when it just makes sense to think about herself in terms of what the majority population wants. Believes. It's a means to try and find a way of fitting in. To survive.
Everypony outside believes she's a monster.
At least one pony inside thinks she's --
-- she can't fix this.
She can't explain herself.
She can't make them see her.
Nothing could.
Integration. A joke spread across two worlds.
I hurt two worlds.
It may be a record.
All she can do is... try to give the Princesses what they want. And she's terrified of failing yet again, but -- it's a scouting mission. The sort of thing you give to a squire more than a knight and at the moment, that may still be expecting too much of her because she doesn't feel like she's worthy of being a page. But there's still only so much you can get wrong on a scouting mission.
In and out. Descend into torment, and then leave again. Taking most of it with her is just incidental.
She's still wrong for the mission. For anything. But the fact that she desperately wants to get away from at least half of the leadership doesn't mean they didn't get one thing right. There is exactly one sapient being on this planet who lacks magic. The mission can go wrong in a thousand ways, and none of them include Tirek gaining any extra strength from her. There's a single thing she can't do wrong, and that makes her crucial.
The girl understands that.
She still dearly wishes it was anyone else.
It's a scouting mission, to check on the one who ended so many lives. Who responded to questions with laughter. A being who doesn't care.
There are three wishes in the girl's mind: the traditional number. She could place them all in one cupped palm, and spitting into the other would still fill it up first. But... three wishes...
She wants to go home.
She's desperate not to make another mistake.
And she really wants to get in one good swing at Tirek's skull. At a single source of her pain.
It may say something about the day that all three seem equally unlikely --
One good swing...
-- she closes the curtain.
She's been looking for something to do. If she's working, maybe she won't think. And now she has a destination or rather, she has two.
The first... that has to be a kitchen. She's been offered a chance to directly damage the world again, a world where every effect she's had upon it has been negative, and -- she's tired. She didn't get very much sleep (and there's obviously somepony to blame for that), and she's awake fairly deep into the day after so much time as a Lunar. Going into the kitchens will let her use the espresso machine -- although if the holiday's short staff means the kitchen is empty, that's assuming she can pick out where it is. And what it is. The chefs keep tinkering with their design, and discarded parts tend to stay in the kitchens in case they're used for the next iteration: something which gives her a little trouble with tracking by scent because too many things smell like coffee.
But there may be no chance to rest before the briefing, and a short nap could leave her too groggy on the exiting side. Besides, she... has reasons not to sleep right now. So into the kitchens, and look for the strongest concentration of glass tubing. But after that...
It's almost a funny question. On a holiday dedicated to family --
I want to go home.
-- where would Barding wind up? He's never mentioned having any relatives, because it's not a subject which readily intersects with metal. Perhaps he spends some time with the next generation, which probably means visiting a mine.
The forge may be occupied. But she feels it's more likely to be empty. Because Barding is effectively divorced from the news cycle --
-- she can't say goodbye to him either --
-- the main difference will be the time required to prepare the fire. And either way...
The monster in Tartarus is no part of her herd. The only links with her species are in form and name. But she still has to go see a stallion. There are certain things which mares do, when they have to deal with stallions.
It won't take very long to make a weighted baton.
The mare didn't quite manage to sneak up on her.
With the baton finished and the empty forge shut down again, Cerea's next priority had been to get out of the lower levels. It was unlikely for Nightwatch to wake up and decide to take a trot, but -- if she did, one of the first places the little knight might look for Cerea was the forge. And the centaur didn't have to pack for the mission: if anything, she was waiting to be told what she couldn't bring.
It left her without anything to do, and a mind without a task was going to start thinking again. Dreading.
The most sensible action seemed to be returning to the palace's base level. Get that much closer to any possible location for the briefing, as she really didn't think it was going to be held in the basement. But it left her wandering again. Waiting to be called.
Or 'summoned'. That felt more ironic. To the presence of the Princesses, and -- the Bearers.
At least Nightwatch won't be assigned to the mission. Not when she can't fly --
-- oh, good. There was a side benefit to having attacked her only friend...
...the girl didn't hear the hoofsteps coming towards the hallway intersection, not even with the marble in play. Most ponies made some degree of noise when they moved through the corridors, but -- this mare's most natural condition existed in a state very close to silence. It just didn't do anything about her scent.
Pegasus mare. Unfamiliar. Frightened...
But there was something strange about that fear. Cerea had become reluctantly accustomed to the reek of pony fear: it was the background scent of her existence. It was just that with this approaching, unseen mare, the scent existed as something which seemed to have been laced into the olfactory signature. A potentially permanent, low-level aspect of the mare's very being, waiting to be called forth into prominence at any moment. And there were other emotions detectable in the mix: fierce determination was very nearly dominant. It still took second place to the --
-- which was when the unfamiliar mare reached the intersection. Turned, saw Cerea, and every muscle and feather seemed to go tense at once. It created a moment where there was another statue silently passing judgment on the centaur, one where the eyes were somewhat more liquid and yet colder than stone...
The centaur almost lost that impression in the first moment of sighting. There was another sense calling for her attention.
Visually... the yellow fur had been carefully groomed. Somepony was clearly taking care of the coral-pink mane. The body was well-proportioned, although something about the posture suggested a mare who was somewhat more ready to flee than the usual: it was a certain bracing in the knees. But the wings would have been a better fit on a pony ten centimeters taller -- while the tail required its owner to be around Princess Celestia's height. Cerea had never seen a tail like that. It dominated the mare, the hallway, and probably most of the conversation. It was a tail which possessed its own gravity. An effort was required to pull her gaze away from it --
-- the girl awkwardly, subconsciously recognized some level of base irony --
-- but that just left Cerea looking at the mare's eyes.
They were a rather light sort of blue-green. They possessed most of the qualities for the shallowest parts of the ocean, and seemed to have all the impact of a crashing wave.
The pegasus had an aura. Most of it was being projected through those eyes.
They locked onto Cerea's own. Neither mare moved.
After a moment, the pegasus tilted her head slightly to the right. It made part of the mane fall in front of the opposing eye, partially obscuring the pony's features. The remaining gaze slowly wandered across Cerea. Hooves to head, then front to back, and she finally spoke.
There was also something odd about the mare's voice. This pegasus wasn't just soft-spoken: she had vocal tones which existed at the bottom of the disc's detection range. Nearly every bit of speech required a short delay before it began to emerge, as if scant decibels had been scavenged from the air -- and yet every syllable carried the force of a hammer.
"...bowel torsion," the pegasus said. And just kept looking at Cerea, with that one visible eye.
The girl blinked.
She wasn't sure there were any reasonable responses to those words. As such, a bewildered "What?" was no worse than anything else.
The scent of the mare's fear didn't increase. The determination stayed right where it was. The dominant aspect surged.
"...I have a lot of roles on missions," the pegasus softly told Cerea. "One of them is to be the emergency medic."
This is a Bearer.
It meant the briefing might be ready. The pegasus had potentially come to fetch her. But that scent...
What did I do to --
"...and I don't know your species," the pegasus went on. Thoughtfully, "I don't think anypony does, really. The Doctors Bear will probably talk to me before we go, just in case. But I was looking at you, and... I thought about how long your digestive system would have to be. Stretched out. That can create problems. And I thought... that with a centaur, the first medical issue anypony might have to look for was bowel torsion. So is that common? For your species?"
Cerea blinked a few times. It hardly helped.
"No," eventually risked making its way into the world.
She could hear hooves on the approach, moving rather quickly. Cerea decided it probably wasn't a rescue.
The shoulders shrugged. "...oh." Twice. "...it was just a guess. So in that case..."
Which was when the pegasus took a step forward.
Her volume never changed. Simply the emphasis, as the blast of fury surged through the world, combined with the aura to make Cerea's hooves skitter backwards, trying to maintain the distance as the pegasus advanced, the centaur doing her best not to fall --
"...since I would have to treat it... if somepony wanted to hurt you -- needed to make you drop -- where would they start? The knees? Yours have to carry a lot of weight. Can you support yourself on three legs? Two? What about the neck?" The head tilt increased. "Because that just about has to be the same, doesn't it? For every species. There's so many interesting things which pass through the throat, and a kick to nearly any of them can be crippling. And I don't know much about breasts, because I've never needed to. How do they compare to the rest of your body for density of nerve endings? If you hit them against something, which looks very easy to do, would you say it hurts --"
-- which was when the second mare reached the corridor.
"Fluttershy."
It was easy to look at the new mare. Just about nothing in the world would have been easier, because it meant not looking at the pegasus any more. And with this mare, there was a lot to look at. For starters, you had the height. Factor out the alicorns, and this was the tallest mare Cerea had ever seen -- something which meant even more when applied to a member of what was usually the shortest species. She hadn't known unicorns could be this tall.
But it was more than that. It was the proportions of the limbs, the liquidity of pale violet eyes and the elegant streaking of the carefully-styled mane and tall. There wasn't a strand of fur out of place, and every eyelash had its marching orders. Features which had been biologically micrometered. And the gaze was cool, calmly evaluating, like a predator who'd caught something new on her territory and was making a rather passive decision on what to do about it -- while giving up no ground whatsoever. Just in case.
I don't know what ponies find attractive in each other.
...that's it.
That is all of it.
The pegasus turned her head. Casually glanced back at the natural wonder.
"...is something wrong?"
"You got away from us," the unicorn said. "From all of us. We looked away for a second, and you were gone."
"...I just thought I'd trot around a little," the pegasus lied. "Before the briefing started."
The unicorn instantly picked up on it. In tones of warning, "Fluttershy..."
Which was when memory flared.
Fluttershy Phylia.
The one Fancypants named in his letter.
Discord's friend.
Oh no...
"...what?" the Bearer asked.
"You were looking for her," the unicorn stated. "We all know it --"
"-- and I found her," the pegasus countered. "So now we can go back. To the briefing. Together."
The unicorn took an exceptionally deep breath, something which almost seemed to ripple from head to tail --
...what?
Her mark...
...how?
Maybe... maybe there were only so many shapes in the world. Square. Circle. Triangle. Gallop far enough away from the basics and you might eventually get to -- that. An echo which had followed Cerea across the void...
Not without irony, Maybe she's just a foreigner. Even though the disc wasn't rendering an accent, the unicorn obviously had to be from Prance.
"They're going to send us out," the unicorn told the Bearer. "Soon. We came to the palace so we could see you off, and..." Another, smaller breath. "...that's it. I can walk you both back to the briefing room. And then I have to go."
"...walk us both back," the pegasus semi-repeated.
"You both need to be at the briefing," the unicorn observed, and an exceptionally thin smile momentarily manifested on her lips. "Which means you both need to get there. In one piece."
The pegasus quietly nodded. The unicorn turned, swished the elegant tail at the other two mares. After a moment, the pegasus began to follow.
Down the corridors. Past artwork. There were places where the arranged air currents brought the pegasus' scent back to Cerea, and she had to push on through the cloud of rage. And eventually, there were new doors.
The unicorn stopped. Turned, looked at the pegasus again. The foreknees bent a little.
Softly, "Come back to me."
"...I'll try. I always try..."
"It's Tartarus -- "
"...we're just getting her in, Fleur --"
The wires didn't hiss.
The disc went directly for that.
The disc has a sense of humor.
Who knew?
"-- and that's supposed to be it..."
"It still could be Tirek," the unicorn quietly insisted. "Watch out for each other. Watch out for yourself, Fluttershy. And... come back to me."
It took a second before the pegasus nodded. The unicorn leaned in...
...oh.
Okay.
If I had that kind of snout, and I made contact with a pony in exactly that way, it would be sexual harassment.
...extended sexual harassment...
Cerea began to shuffle portions of her weight from hoof to hoof. It didn't help.
Finally, the unicorn pulled back. Nodded once to the pegasus, looked up at Cerea --
"Bring them back."
The elegant tail lashed, and the unicorn trotted away.
It left the pegasus looking at the centaur.
...staring. The pegasus hadn't tried to take off once. But she was at a distance which allowed a careful neck angle to get past all obstructions, and she kept staring...
Cerea managed a breath. On the third attempt.
"Diamond told me about what happened."
Silence.
"...I..." It had been, at most, eight minutes since she'd met the pegasus, and she already had the inadvertent imitation down. "...I am sorry. I -- am aware that it does not mean all that much, as mere words. But I respect his actions, I honor his sacrifice and regret your loss. But it is nothing I did. I understand why you wish to lash out at me. I do. I am here, and -- he is not. But -- for the mission, for the sake of everything, we have to... to..."
The emptiness echoed for a while. It filled Cerea's ears, while never doing anything to mute the force of that stare.
The girl took another breath, and pushed everything which was left of her into three words.
"I'm not him."
The pegasus didn't move.
"...I don't know what you are," Fluttershy said, and finally turned towards the door. "I guess this is where we start to find out."
I getting sick and tried of twilight and friends deciding that she must be bad because triek was bad. He made his choice as every other villain.
11032969
I mean, they do only have a sample size of one to go off of, and it was a catastrophe level sample to boot.
Dang it Flutters, the poor girl needs you. Why you gotta be doing this now?
Also, hello Fleur.
Wow, Fluttershy's in full Batman mode.
And again, Cerea picks up on what nobody else notices within seconds.
Did Cerea sustain the full blast of The Stare?
And really, how is Fluttershy still the Element of Kindness?
Yeah, the Bearers didn't save the day that time didn't they? They failed and were never able to work out the terror they felt with their usual victory over their foe so they are still stuck there in their heads.
And now Cerea is getting all their shit thrown in her face. Poor girl don't deserve it and they don't deserve her.
And I hope Tirek get to taste the stick.
11032987
It's also worth mentioning Fluttershy in particular is essentially the most intense case of a nationwide PTSD event, in a world where the physical form of a creature is (usually) indicative of what they can do...
...I have a feeling that, if it weren't so personal, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Twilight would be in the best situation to empathize with her. But pain and fear can overheat even the coolest of heads, so we'll have to see how it goes.
Let the hate flow through you.
It’s great to see Best Blender. Fluttershy’s questioning is downright unsettling. ‘Incidentally, what’s the best way to cause you physical pain?’ With all the buildup I kinda expected the built up expectations to be subverted, but for the moment kindness is suppressed by unbridled rage.
I find I like anger as a motivator for Cerea, it’s more palatable after everything that’s happened. She has earned some outward rage, especially with more animosity seemingly on tap. She needs to make it clear that she has one friend, just like Discord, and like him she’s willing to risk herself for that friend. Afterward, though, she expects to be freed. Mazein is definitely a better place for her.
The rest of the Elements might be able to present a better hoof forward.
Fleur, though, anything with her present is amazing. It was a sweet goodbye, although I was hoping for a foal bump. 😜
Please I’m begging it’s almost painful to watch let just one bearer be on her side please please please I’m begging you😭
11032969
And OBVIOUSLY there is pony racism in play.
Tartarus is for those to attempt to destroy the world? Seems to be missing a certain Nightmare Moon...oh wait, ponies get a pass, nevermind.
While I'm very glad to see both of these two again, I feel like, of all of the Bearers, the veterinarian should at least be the one that can tell that Tirek and Cerea are two completely different species that just happen to have the same limb configuration. It's not like all quadrupeds, or even all equines, are the same. But, I know, she's nursing a whole lot of despair right now and isn't thinking clearly.
11032969
Prejudice are something strong. The first meeting of a creature taint the next one. I think that the meeting with Cerea is exactly what the bearers need. Something to give them perspective. A occasion to see a different way of how the centaur race can be. If they can see how Cerea is as an individual. She become somepony and not just a part of Tirek specie. Fluttershy could learn to see her as a worthy friend after this adventure.
11028363
Yeah, when it's Fluttershy being this insanely belligerent during a first meeting, the stage is pretty much goddamn set. Cerea's going to go through hell here, and I'm not even referring to Tartarus.
Ah. It's FLUTTERSHY I want to strangle first. Yay.
I can't wait for Cerea to find out Fleur isn't from Prance.
I want to know how long ago that scene was written, too. 😈
well if were going to judge an entire race based on one member of it all unicorns need to die because Sombra existed
Hmmm, this is after season 4 (Tirac is *back* in Tartarus) so Sparkle has some knowledge of 'human' in general (Season 3/EQG1), now whether this is after season 5 (& Friendship Games or just Rainbow Rocks) is up for grabs ...
She'd created a goal for herself: to be discharged.
Failing at failing is a new low, like three lefts make a right. All she has to do is fail at failing all the time and she'll be a smashing success.
It won't take very long to make a weighted baton.
Um. Anybody remember the bit about Cerea playing baseball? Batter up. (bonus points if she names the baton Home Run)
11033146
EQG isn't a thing in the Esteeverse, and even though this story isn't strictly canon, I don't think that's changed.
Maybe this was already shown, but I'm glad to see that this is in the Fleur timeline. It's just nice to see the two of them again, even if Fluttershy is being a little overly terrifying at the moment.
11033173
Ah...hard to keep track of which stories are alternates when not marked ....
11033193
It was hinted at.
In the Discord flashback he describes his need to save Fluttershy's "half-tamed pet" and "semi-feral—" whatever (which isn't "the rabbit"). At the end of Anchor Foal he calls Fleur "something half-feral, barely tamed".
Word of Estee is that
Fluttershy, you’re being a bully. You’re better than that.
Nice to see Fleur again, as well as her cooler head prevailing. And speaking of heads, I look forward to Cerea using her latest creation on Tirek’s!
11033082
Fluttershy is likely familiar with sexual dimorphism among other species, so really one couldn’t rule out that it would account for the differences between Tirek and Cerea. It may actually be a case where someone who knows *less* about biology would more readily suspect that they’re truly different species.
11033064
I think Spike will be sympathetic to her plight to some degree, based on his own experiences. I would hope some others would be as well though.
Welcome to Equestria, where evidently 98% of the population has terminal foot-in-mouth disease.
"Fluttershy come to the palace quick, I need you and the centaur to save the world"
"'Accost, threaten, and harass the person I'm going to be working with using mind games and spooky eye magic' you say? CAN DO!"
And I get that she lost the person most (or up there at least) important to her, and I'm trying to translate that into a more salient human experience in my head but coming up short given the whole race vs species thing. As it stands I'm sitting on a blend of "an exotic animal--let's say a dolphin--tried to kill (here 'drown') my friend and now I've sworn an eternal crusade against all dolphins" and "someone of a disproportionately small ethnicity/nationality--let's go with 'Bhutanese' for this example, as a random small country--pushed my friend off a cliff and now I've sworn an eternal crusade against every Bhutanese person (Wikipedia says 'Drukpa') in existence."
Both of these are flawed in their own way, given that Tirek was probably assumed to be the only centaur prior, but it's the best I got.
BTW is doing the magic STARE on a person assault in this universe? What's the legality for a gryphon doing their comparable racial magic?
11032586
I disagree. At the very least, Judaism doesn't really see an issue with the existence of non-human sapients. The question would be whether they, as non-humans, could become members of our tribe/faith/people, and whether they'd be obligated in any commandments, not whether they're people deserving of life. It may help to know that there's a long tradition in Judaism where we see demons as often mischevous, sometimes malevolent (to humans) entities with magical powers who nonetheless are often deeply faithful and devoted to God, complete with their own halls of Torah study... despite demons not appearing anywhere in the Jewish Bible (and no, the Satan is not a demon). Just because something isn't described in the holy texts doesn't mean it can't be a thing.
11033010
Cerea still has her hairpins in from her meeting with the princesses, so the plastic no-sold the magical aspect of the Stare. Of course, Fluttershy's plenty intimidating even without the voodoo, but Cerea didn't respond the way you'd expect someone throwing off a debilitating psychic attack to respond.
I'm sure this won't be misinterpreted.
11033270
Part of the problem may be that you’re trying to imagine encounters with existing species here on Earth. Centaurs aren’t that for Equestrians… they’re alien.
So I suppose you could imagine a big-eyed, gray-skinned alien had come to Earth, horribly violated every one you know through “probing”, and flat out murdered a person dear to you who gave his life to stop the invasion and conquering of the planet.
And now a second one has come to Earth.
I'm going to break silence, just for a moment, because it's to early in the morning and I apparently failed my "do not engage with people" will save (possibly because I'm up far too early to have to go and do that professionally), and mostly because this is bugging me.
Ponies generally are as stupid and judgemental and factional and pathetic as humans, I get that.
But from even a BASIC zoological standpoint, compare Tirek to Cerea. Go look a picture of Tirek. And then a picture of Cerea. (Yes, it is hard to find one that's not fanservice-y).
They are CLEARLY not REMOTELY the same species. They share the same body plan, and that's IT; and on that basis, they are MORE DIFFERENT than horses are to ibex. The skull structure alone is ENTIRELY wrong. They can't be the same species, since even with significant sexual dimorphism in a species, you just don't GET that sort of variance. The head shape is completely different; Tirek's is much longer. The nasal structure is completely different. The ears are significantly different in shape and size.
While an ignorant human or a pony will lay judgement based on body plan because there is no bottom level to which petty factionalism and othering will not sink to (presumably, a stupid pony traumatised by a cow is forever afraid of deer, antelope and other cattle, because they are all totally identical in body plan are clearly all the same species), but for anyone with even a laycreature's understanding of biology (which is less than Fleur or Fluttershy have), it should be instantly obvious that Tirek and Cerea CANNOT be the same species.
Hell, given that they both actually DO come from entirely different worlds, they CANNOT possibly even smell the same, given that, despite what ignorant ponies assume from ill-informed visual appearances, they genuinely ARE entirely difference species that only have the same body plan through convergent evolution (or possibly, convergent design as I don't know the precise origins or either species and whether they are natural or the result of magical creation/experimentation).
I have been expecting at LEAST ONE pony with some level of education to go "yeah, hang on a mo, they can't be the same," but apparently not.
There really is no hope in any Reality, is there?
(I mean, I knew that already - the very premise of Gen 5 already proved that nothing anypony ever did in the Gen 4 ever mattered, as we already know the bigots win in canon, but...)
11032987 11033341 This is just bullshit, defending Fluttershy's actions. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Just because the ponies have PTSD, doesn't give them a pass to treat Cerea like this. It explains their actions, but doesn't excuse them. Cerea has bent over backwards to prove to these shit-heads that she's not like Tirek, and they still treat her like the antichrist.
Frankly, Cerea needs to finally grow a pair and stand up for herself. if she just rolls over and lets that shit pass, I'm calling it for this story, I have no interest watching her being a whipping boy. It was one thing to watch her being depressed for several hundred-thousand words - I held out on the vain hope that she'd find a way back home, or at the very least some friends to heal those wounds - but now after everything she's been through, everything she's done to assuage their fears, to be openly abused? Nope, that's a bridge too far, ESPECIALLY coming from KINDNESS. If this is what 'Harmony' looks like in the grimdark future of Equestria, the ponies deserve what they get at this point.
Fuck the xenophobes and fuck anyone who defends them.
Oh shit. Definitely didn't expect Best Pony to make an appearance, but I knew Fluttershy was gonna be like trying to hold a rabid dog on a leash when it came to Cerea, so Fleur is the one who could most calm her down (relatively). Their little exchange at the door was as heartwarming as it was amusing to me. I was just waiting for the pin to drop about the similarities between armor and mare. Wait until Fluttershy sees Cerea's armor. Better, Fleur seeing it. That'll be a shitshow. It makes so much sense why the Bearers would have trouble accepting Cerea but maybe if this goes slightly well even at all, their perspectives on her might shift. Liked the opening describing things in terms of stories and how humans would tell them. Thank you so much for the chapter!
A pretty consistent thing in both proper canon and Estee's universe is that the Bearers can exemplify their Element -- but they can, on occasion, show a complete inability to turn that Element on their own personal life.
Rarity, the Element of Generosity, has greed and selfishness as a terrible and recurring vice.
Applejack, the Element of Honesty, keeps secrets all the time (and, in Estee's work, Secrets).
Rainbow Dash, the Element of Loyalty, can be incredibly thoughtless and self-centred.
Pinkie Pie, the Element of Laughter, is so often a hair's breadth away from terrible, crushing depression.
And now? This is Fluttershy. The Element of Kindness. Who, so many times in the show proper, could be cruel with the tiniest prompting. And not always by accident, either, because the point of being Kindness is that you have to know where it ends. So when she's got cause to be cruel, like right now, this is what we see. Is she being unfair? Obviously. Is she being cruel? Absolutely. Can her actions be excused? Of course not. But her actions can be explained. And just as Applejack can be dishonest, just as Rainbow Dash can be egotistical, sometimes even Fluttershy can lash out when she's hurting. Right now, she's hurting, and Cerea is a nice big target to kick.
Understanding her actions here isn't the same as defending them. Acknowledging that what she's doing is because of circumstances isn't the same as saying it's alright. And feeling sorry for her being in pain doesn't excuse her cruelty to Cerea. But right now, it's definitely hard to be angry at Fluttershy when she's in mourning, no matter how unfair it's driving her to be.
Cerea is going to be so disappointed
11033378
I considered listing true examples of sexual dimorphism, which include significant differences in head shapes (quite often with major features… horns, tusks, etc… completely lacking from one sex to another), huge size differences, color variations, and so on… but then realized that it would be silly.
This is a fantasy world where ponies can be born of any color combination, with or without feathered wings or horns. They can have crystal coats, or metallic ones. Go look at a picture of Snips and Fleur. Those are the same species and even the same tribe. Beyond ponies, look at dragons and realize that the main characters don’t blink at Torch being Ember’s father… or that Spike is the same species as the dragons from the Everfree or the mountain in Season 1.
(Hell, look at Tirek before and after consuming magic…)
Equestrian biology is complete fantasy… of course they’re not going to be overly hung up on the differences between Tirek and Cerea. They see bigger ones every day. In the end, I guess it’s either something you just go with or something you don’t.
11033382
Hey, I’m upset with Fluttershy too. And having also read the many chapters from her perspective, I’m on Cerea’s side just as we’re intended to be. But I also know Fluttershy, and I know that we’re seeing Fluttershy at her worst. And it’s helpful to clarify her mindset to understand why. A singular alien with a horrifying appearance (an entire bizarre torso sprouting from where it’s head should be) invaded her world, cruelly violating the populace as it conquered and destroyed, and her dear friend ultimately sacrificed his life to end this invasive rampage, and still this creature laughed and scorned them before being imprisoned in Tartarus. And now, despite that desperate and costly win, a second alien has arrived, and there’s evidence of the violations starting again.
This was a terrified Fluttershy doing what terrified Fluttershy does when confronted with a threatening creature that she associates with hurting her friends… she pushes through the terror and turns on the intimidation fueled by the anger that’s simmering beneath the surface. She wants this alien that she doesn’t trust to be afraid as well and know that she’s watching.
This was Fluttershy in the wrong, though… and we’ve seen that with Iron Will. She can tip over into being a bully when she overcompensates, and her blinders from fear and anger are keeping her from seeing past the big scary alien facade to the innocent girl beneath.
11033382
Regarding Cerea, she is suffering from depression, inferiority complex, and other mental issues from a very long time. So is not as simple as "growing a pair". Gosh, just remaining functional after so much shit raining on her is already a feat beyond what many of us would accomplish if in her horseshoes.
Regarding Fluttershy, I agree her circunstances explain her actions yet not excuse them. Cerea doesn't owe her anything: nor an apologize, much less the obligation to prove herself "a non Tirek".
Frankly, I only wish a certain black pegasus mare had been there to smack Kindness in the face.
11032987
At the same time if every centaur was bad they would have been attacked by them a dozen times by now. Considering that he was locked up years ago in the first place and no other centaur has shown up. Considering that its unlikely that he never had parents Considering he had a brother who tried to help him stay on the right path.
11033146
There is no mirror portal on the Verse. In ‘Proof of Concept’, we learn that mirror experiments led to other things.
Fleur's physique is so powerful that it not only transcends species boundaries, but comes with a self-decoding program so that even simple unawareness can't persist.
Which leads me to two thoughts:
One, I really worry for Fleur's and Flutter's kid. When you breed for a characteristic, you get that characteristic. Move over Heartbutt, we may be looking at the Alicorn of Attraction come the next generation...
"...and on the fourth day of that cycle, their foal was brought into the world. A ripple spanned the populace in that moment, a wave of tails hiking a notch higher, and all new the change as they looked upon each other with new appreciation."
Two, what did Fleur see? Not even see-see, but just... she's so painfully observant about many things. I can't halp but imagine Fleur would be just as good for Cerea as Fancy should be, and it would start in those moments with Fleur seeing Cerea and figuring some things out.
Fleur versus The Tattler. And Fleur has shown skill as a herdbreaker. Hmmmm...
I wonder how close Fluttershy just got to losing Kindness. Of attacking an innocent girl stolen from her world, family and loved loves, stuck in a world where almost everyone wants her death, traumatized and depressed, having just lost faith in her one Liege and hurt her one friend, one of the beings most necessitated of Kindness in the entirety of Equestria.
I wonder how she'll feel when she finds out what she almost did. What she wanted to do. And how Discord would be saddened by that.
I wonder if she'll be brave enough to ask for forgiveness. She better, if she wants to keep worthy of what she is.
Cerea faces the bearers. The centaur girl, stolen abs shunned, faces the heroes of the nation. Let's see if said heroes can reign in their fears and prejudices. Let's see if they'll have the sheer decency of being for forgiveness if they don't, once it's all said and done. Let's hope they're worthy of anything but contempt once they realize they made the innocent prove herself over the sins if the guilty.
For if they don't they're no Bearers of Harmony and the soul of Equestria is irrevocably lost indeed.
Fluttershy, even in canon, has serious anger issues. She's kind, she's the bearer of Kindness, but she's still an imperfect pony, and not the unchanging Element of Harmony she represents.
Also, damn. 'Shy can be scary when she wants to.
Humm. What will Cerea be able to bring in her trip to Tartarus? Her armor, sword and baton for sure but what else could she need? Those anti Pegasus and gel grenades she trained with? A map would Tyrek be placed deep in it? Some food? A way to call when it's time to get out?
That first paragraph had me wondering about Twilight Velvet for a bit, at least until kilometers got involved.
I mean, she's not wrong, per se...
The thought occurs that Cerea may not understand what all the fuss is about with Tartarus. There may be nothing the place can do to her that would top what she does to herself.
She said the thing!
... Oh dear, she said the thing.
I understand Fluttershy's stance here. I'm not saying it's right, I'm saying it's understandable. For one, let's not forget who we're dealing with:
Now, she hasn't been on a frustrated boil until the pressure cooker exploded this time. It's been more of a low simmer... but it never stopped. It's just been getting progressively more bitter over time. (We are apparently simmering tea in this analogy.) All throughout the story, whenever we hear about Fluttershy in the context of Cerea, everyone involved is very nervous. Shy is not in a happy place right now. It's not going to break her attunement to her Element. Everyone has their low points and off days. But she finally has a centaur-shaped outlet for all of this resentment, and she has clearly been spending a lot of time thinking about how to use that opportunity.
Also, and this cannot be emphasized enough, this is the first time they're actually meeting face to face. How about giving Fluttershy a bit of time to get to know Cerea before judging her for mourning a friend? (To say nothing of giving the other Bearers any chance to interact with Cerea before deciding they're just as bad.)
In any case, definitely looking forward to seeing if the other first impressions turn out any better.
Oxford comma please!
Uhoh.
I dont know which is worse, Cerea being in a position to be possibly spotted by the riot outside, or almost being on the full recieving end of Grey Shy.
11034281
Nah. It's fine.
11033295
I agree with you regarding how most modern Jews would think of Liminals if they were discovered, and on the general concept of "non-human sapient" in Judaism, but the perception of (in this case) a half-human-half-horse could make it a different kettle of fish for extremely reactionary Jews.
Not a Judaism expert, let alone a Torah or Ancient Israelite expert, and I know that practically all Jews living today do not follow the Torah with Levitical (sorry, I couldn't help myself) strictness, but from what I have read, the Israelites had this very authoritarian conception of purity, where everything was expected to stick to its "kind", and things that seemingly mixed kinds were seen as unclean or abominations.
There are prohibitions against mixing two kinds of fibre in a fabric, mating "diverse kinds" of livestock, sowing two kinds of seed in the same field, etc.
Likewise, the uncleanness of pigs has been interpreted as coming from the fact that by having cloven hooves, it seems to be a ruminant like cattle or sheep, but it does not "chew its cud" and therefore is also not a ruminant.
Even the prohibition of male homosexuality has been interpreted as such (ie, that by a man "lying with a man as one does with a woman", he is causing the other man to become a part-woman ambiguous being).
Deviating from one's "kind" through deformity or injury is also considered offensive by these purity laws, as seen in the famous prohibition of Israelites with damaged genitals from "the assembly of the Lord", the prohibition of tattoos (presumably as a form of self-vandalism), and its apotheosis in the "Red Heifer", who must be entirely free of imperfections, even the almost imperceptible wear-and-tear caused by having been yoked (such Platonic perfection was so difficult to achieve that, according to Jewish tradition, only nine such animals were found in one and a half millennia).
(Of course, many scholars argue that the taboos came first, possibly as ways to differentiate themselves from the neighbouring Caananites as Maimonides argued in the specific case of Shatnez, and that the purity philosophy was an ex-post-facto rationalisation.)
By either criterion, Liminals would be abominations by definition.
Come to think of it, if they were exposed to attitudes like that, no wonder they hid themselves in the Gaps.
"At times it felt like I spent half my childhood being made to go to bed when I wasn't sleepy and the other half being made to get up when I was."
Mark Twain
11033539
As I said before, the why is in consequential. She's blaming the actions of another on Cerea. I had empathy for Fluttershy right up until the moment when she took out her fear and anger on another. Now she's just another shit-head shitting on Cerea, the only difference is that the Crown let her into the castle.
11033551
The comment about growing a pair is in reference to the fact that (narratively) if she doesn't, she's just a doormat and a whipping boy, there to have others take their anger out on her. Narratively, she has to do something, or else she spirals down into an ever darker, more depressed state. She HAS to stand up for herself here, or how the hell will she be able to stand up to Luna and tell her how VIOLATED she feels by her Lady's actions!?
11033477
I don't find it hard at all. That was fucking sociopathic.
11034223
If Cerea had any spine whatsoever, she'd tell Fluttershy off and tell the Crown that she was out - or at the very least wasn't going to go with that walking liability.
11034348
Speaking as an Orthodox(-ish) Jew, uh, no.
Yes, there are prohibitions on mixing things of different kinds, but only in specific contexts and specific types. For instance, it's not a prohibition against mixing any kinds of fabrics, it's specifically linen and wool. Mixing linen and cotton, or wool and cotton, or any other fibers for that matter, is and always has been permissible. You're also mixing up different laws into a false category of "purity." Sha'atnez is not "impure", it is simply forbidden to Jews. A castrated man is not "impure," he is merely not permitted in certain types of sacred space. Certain animals are inherently impure, but while none of them are kosher, not all non-kosher animals are inherently impure, either.
Also, while hybridization (including grafting trees) is forbidden, owning hybrids is acceptable. Jews are not commanded to kill mules and uproot apple orchards!
Centaurs being a thing would be shocking, sure, but there's nothing about them as a concept that would render them abominable to a Jewish perspective.