Acrimonious
The eldest alicorn had been alive for nearly thirteen hundred years. It hadn't taken all that long before she'd started to feel like most of that time had been spent in trying to train herself out of reflexes acquired during the first twenty.
Look up at the sky. Most ponies would be watching for pegasus traffic, seeking a contemplative moment with the aid of a helpful cloud, or simply checking to see if the Weather Bureau had events proceeding on the posted schedule. (For those outside the palace, the current answer to that last was NO.) But something deep within Celestia would forever be taking note of the hue. As a general rule of her youth, if the daytime atmosphere (for whatever variable value of 'daytime' was currently in play) was approaching blue, then the direct influence of chaos was fairly distant. And it was a rule you could never quite count on, because it was a rule and at some point, he would inevitably decide to break it.
Subtle vibrations in the ground? In the modern day, that came from the nearby passage of cart wheels, citizens moving in bulk, or earth ponies practicing in secret. In the early part of Celestia's life (and more than a few times since), it usually just begged the question of just what was trying to work its way up from underneath, and did so in a hurry because wondering about it too long could cost her the precious moments required to move. Place too many ponies in a confined space, have them all moving in rhythm at once, and the world would term the results as a dance. But for the oldest survivor, the first recognition would be of the vibration. And no matter how much time might pass, there would always be a few neurons waiting for the emergence of the root angler.
So the bulk of her recognized the source of the sound which split the outside atmosphere, blasted its way through marble walls and echoed through the briefing room: after all, she'd been the one who'd ordered the conditions which allowed that false explosion to exist. She understood its nature, and it meant that she did not move. Most of the Bearers moved somewhat, the centaur's ears twisted backwards and down, and Spike's handling claws tightened on the wood -- but Celestia waited for the last of it to fade.
It was simply thunder. She knew that. And yet deep within her soul, the ghost of a filly who'd grown up in the heart of insanity insisted that the mare look up. See if wings and terror had come raiding from the sky.
The pegasus who potentially would have been some part of that ancient army simply snorted with irritation. The expression of somepony who, despite what all of the complaint letters sent to the Bureau might claim, considered herself to be a master of the occupation and didn't understand why everypony else insisted that the work hours come off exactly on time.
"Somepony's clumsy," Rainbow irritably declared. (She had been visibly irritated from the first moment of arrival, and the alicorn was just waiting for the inevitable to kick its way through.) "I saw them setting up for the rainout when we were on the way in. Giving the protesters a nice, cold wakeup call. But that's just a downpour." With another snort, "Letting that get involved..."
"There are no uses of magic," Luna calmly stated, "which are not subject to emotional resonance." The younger didn't so much as glance up at the weather coordinator when she spoke: the visible portion of her attention was still focused on watching the illusion complete itself. "We asked the Canterlot team to stay in the sky for a time, when nearly all of them had already learned of the most recent incident -- and those who had not were undoubtedly briefed by the herd. It is a situation which creates stress, Rainbow Dash. Something which leaked into the storm." The star-streaming tail slowly swayed. "With the rain in progress, the thunder should do no more than briefly frighten a few. And as for the electricity... that would be the reason why the palace has its own lightning rods."
It still wasn't so bad that one sister couldn't take a moment to needle the other...
"One of the reasons," Celestia placidly said.
The glare was automatic, and wound up being absorbed by a falsely-relaxed white body. Rainbow snorted one more time, and then settled back down -- or rather, went back to the previous pattern of restless movements. The wings kept twitching.
At least I know why you're unhappy.
It's not going to get better any time soon.
The last of the thunder faded. A new sound took its place: something which was individually small. It was also repetitive and taking place in fairly loud bulk.
"...how heavy is the rain," Fluttershy slowly asked, "that we can hear it in here?"
It was like being at the center of a stone barrel. One which was being constantly hit by thousands of small hammers.
"As much as the available moisture would allow," Celestia quietly replied. "Added to everything we told the team to pull from the garden lakes. There's probably going to be a few opinion columns about that tomorrow. Talking about how we've been abusing our control of the Weather Bureau, just so we could clear out ponies who -- had a few legitimate concerns. But at least one of those pieces may wind up with a substitute writer."
The elder had almost wound up taking custody of a dream. The questioning had left Wordia exhausted on several levels: allowing her to personally celebrate its conclusion through finishing the bottle hadn't helped. The self-titled journalist had needed a place to collapse, and there were fully-furnished cells on the lower levels --
-- which weren't all that far away from the forge. The armory. The barracks.
Wordia Spinner was currently sleeping it off in one of the palace's guest bedrooms. This had led to a pair of postings: two Solar Guards outside the door, and a freshly-written sheet regarding exactly what constituted illegal entry on the inside.
With a very soft snort, "I expect tomorrow's group to show up with back-mounted rain canopies." And without pause, "Which I'll treat as a win, because it means we have a tomorrow."
Cerea just shivered. Is Luna --
-- no. Neither of us is radiating. She's just scared. Trying to hide her reactions, and she suppressed that shiver as soon as she recognized it, but -- scared.
Celestia couldn't quite manage to see that as a bad thing. At this point, being afraid was a sign of sanity.
"Let's start working on that part," the elder told them. "Princess Luna?"
The younger nodded. Looked down at the illusion, and some of the contour lines began to glow. Several ponies arched their necks. The centaur leaned forward a little, visibly noticed how much of the table had been placed in a personal shadow and pulled back again.
"The classified area represents what we know to exist of the deep place's spread along two axes," the younger began, "plus a considerable margin of hoped-for safety around the borders. From what we have been able to determine, the overall size of Tartarus is relatively stable -- except upon the vertical."
Twilight swallowed again. "...the vertical," emerged as something which really hadn't wanted to come out.
"Providing subjects for incarceration seem to encourage some degree of extension into the earth," Luna clarified. "Working deeper." The illusion raised itself from the table's surface, and new lines began to work their way back down. "In the time since the first mapping was attempted, we have been able to verify the presence of two additional layers. This is being monitored. A fresh survey is made at regular intervals: the next was scheduled to take place in eight years, with the explorers reinforced by every thaum of magic we can provide. The deep place has not reached the core of the planet, Twilight Sparkle. Nowhere near."
Celestia looked over to the girl.
"Which does mean we have maps," she told Cerea. "And you'll be issued one. We'll illustrate the fastest way to reach Tirek. But -- you have to treat the route as a suggestion, not a guide. One of the other reasons why we have to keep making surveys is because the caverns have been known to warp."
The girl nodded. Something which, to Celestia, felt as if it had been forced.
"Approach and examine," Cerea carefully said -- and then the girl swallowed. "There is..."
Her head turned, as did the upper waist. Blue eyes reluctantly surveyed the full, rather extensive length of the strange body, and then forced themselves to look at Celestia again.
"...a potential -- issue," the very large girl reluctantly tried to finish. "Centaurs are..." and stopped.
Not designed for stealth felt like a strong guess. "We'd rather he didn't see you," Celestia admitted. "But it may be unavoidable. You'll be carrying a light source: Tartarus will decide just how visible that's going to be. The same thing may apply to your final approach angle. So if he does spot you, then -- see if he'll talk."
"Interrogation." (The alicorn wondered just how much work the disc had to do, in order to uncover the reluctance in the girl's tones. Or if there was any effort being made at all.) "When the palace had failed." And her features briefly hardened, skin going tight over cheekbones and what any pony would have considered to be an extremely minimal chin. "When intrusion into dreams had undoubtedly learned nothing, something which could have continued after he had been imprisoned --"
The Bearers were staring at the centaur again. Luna took a slow, measured breath.
"Those within Tartarus," the dark alicorn told the group, "cannot be found through dreamwalking. The deep place serves as a barrier."
Celestia still wasn't sure whether she was reading all of Cerea's expressions correctly. Something about the one which briefly flashed across bare skin still suggested a girl who had just darkly recognized the potential for a certain level of refuge.
"Before he was placed within," Luna added, "there were attempts made, for there are ways in which the dreams of all sapients are the same. I was able to enter. But he was aware of my capabilities. He made no effort to expel me: he simply used certain mental disciplinary exercises to create some degree of control over his nightscape. Determining setting and topic." With a soft snort, "Let us simply say that there were two central subjects, and that which was not excruciatingly boring --" a quick glance at Spike "-- shall not be discussed within this room. And because of those exercises, any attempt I made to twist his nightscape resulted in his immediate awakening. As we had no knowledge regarding the potions which might be able to keep a centaur --" and this time, the dark eyes briefly flickered to Cerea "-- of his type within a dream state, I was unable to gain any information prior to his incarceration."
"It's similar to the problems we've had with your medical treatment, Cerea," Celestia quickly added (because the girl didn't look any less angry). "There are a few potions designed to encourage truth, but they all have some fairly nasty side effects: ones which negate just about all of the benefits. And they're species-specific. No one had ever needed anything for a centaur."
"Spells?" Twilight rather naturally asked.
The white alicorn's lips briefly quirked. "To encourage honesty?" Followed by an automatic look towards Applejack. "That working exists. But it's like any resonance bomb: if you know the projected emotion is being inflicted from the outside, you can try to resist. He succeeded. And the Seeds don't mean anything when you have someone who won't talk."
Farmer and librarian both nodded. Celestia turned back towards Cerea.
"Attempts to sneak up on him may be impossible," she told the girl. "But if he does see you -- try to talk. Maybe you can get a little more out of him than we did."
"And what reason would Tirek possess for ever speaking with me?" Cerea softly asked.
You're scared.
You're also still angry. And you've been --
-- punishing yourself.
That's part of this, isn't it? You've been looking for pain. Because of what happened at the party. Because you hurt Nightwatch. Luna finally told me about your dreams, Cerea. There's a lot of self-blame in them, and that's an assessment which comes from two mares who can have a lot of trouble with not treating everything in the realm as their fault. Especially when so much of it is --
-- have you already realized it, and you're just trying to make me say the words aloud?
To see how much it'll hurt you?
The pain you think you deserve?
"He sees us as the enemy," Celestia quietly answered. "The world entire, as his enemy. Every species, because we all would have tried to get in the way of what he deserved. But you might be a little more..."
Everything about the girl's face was steel.
"...familiar..." the alicorn reluctantly finished.
It was strange, watching the centaur's face. It wasn't just that singular configuration of features, or the way Celestia could only recognize half of what might be taking place under the skin. With the disc in play, the movement of the minimal lips never matched the words.
And there were times when the words themselves made no sense.
"A cat," the girl decided, "may look at a king."
Everypony blinked.
"They can?" Pinkie immediately asked. Curls contracted with careful thought. "I think a cat could look at anything they liked. Including kings. Anyway, where would you even find a king --"
"-- and one monster," the girl tightly cut the baker off, "may speak to another."
Celestia winced. Twilight pulled back a little more. Trixie's tail twitched, Applejack and Rarity looked equally worried, Pinkie flashed into instant concern while Fluttershy's features were rigid, Rainbow's feathers shifted a little faster, Spike's claws made little gouges in the wood, and Luna took one breath. It was a breath which temporarily confiscated most of the oxygen in the room, along with three suddenly-crucial degrees. Celestia immediately began to compensate.
"We will discuss this," the younger quickly said. "But not during the briefing --"
-- the girl abruptly blinked, and the right arm lifted.
It was a strange thing to watch, if you weren't used to minotaurs. The fluidity of the movements, a touch of automatic angling to one side in order to avoid the side swell of her own breasts and once that obstacle was cleared, fingers curving without visible thought until the tips lightly touched the disc which had been bound against her throat.
"Talk." It was barely a whisper. "How? I am being sent within because I possess no magic. Nothing he can steal and add to his own strength. But in order to maintain that status, I can bring no magic. None at all. And without the disc... I understand so few words, communication will be impossible --"
Twilight was starting to nod. The eldest alicorn simply cleared her throat.
"You'll be able to speak with him," Celestia stated. "With perfect clarity. Comprehension will be automatic."
The girl was staring at her.
"How?" was a slightly louder whisper.
"You're entering through a Gate," Celestia told her. "It creates a translation effect. Anyone inside Tartarus can understand anyone else, for as long as they're all within."
There were more stares now. Just about everyone, with a single dark-eyed exception. And she was warming the air, compensating for Luna -- but it did nothing to affect the chill which soaked into her next breath.
"Tartarus," the eldest quietly said, "finds it advantageous for one inmate to recognize when another is screaming."
The blue eyes seemingly hadn't blinked for some time --
-- Luna stood up.
"I will understand," the dark mare softly offered, "if you do not recall the entirety of our first meeting. You were rather ill at the time, and fever has a way of stealing memory. But the topic was introduced. Five devices survive to the modern nights, only five. And part of that is due to the scant number who can cast the most advanced of translation spells, with another portion due to the scarce quantity of device-makers capable of rendering that working into something which can be expressed through the inanimate. But there is a third factor. Because when one enchants a device, it is best to work with -- suitable materials. Something which already has an affinity for the desired effect, even if using it means the best possible channel needs to be... cleansed."
The girl didn't move. Didn't speak. Frozen in place. And at some distance around the table's curve, Twilight was starting to look sick.
"Three factors to affect scarcity," Luna steadily continued. "Place them all against each other, watch their edges cut the numbers down. And then imagine how few have been willing to venture into the only place in all the world where the core of the device might be found. To stay, to search..."
Slowly, the girl's fingers shifted. Moved across the surface of the disc, until a single nail just barely touched the black opal which rested at its heart.
"We did request that you take care with it," the dark alicorn evenly finished. "Should the mission succeed, and you assume full possession -- consider that to be an ongoing recommendation. They are -- rather difficult to replace."
They won't look at her.
They don't want to look at the disc. But she's going to think of it as not wanting to look at her.
Luna sank back into a resting position, with everyone watching. Twilight swallowed, and then repeated the action until everything which had been rising was sent down again. The girl's hand simply jerked away from the disc at a speed which suggested the fingers had just been burned.
Celestia remained silent. Giving the group a chance to recover, as much as they could --
-- Applejack cleared her throat.
"Y'all said somethin' jus' then," the farmer carefully offered. "Ain't sure everyone caught it. An' it adds onto some other stuff. That the place changes, warps, an' -- wants anyone inside t' hear the screams." The hat vibrated. "Wants. So Ah've gotta put this out there."
I know what you're going to say. I've heard so many ponies say it before, and I was expecting it to come up here. But I should have realized that this time, it was going to come from you.
You can always count on Honesty to bring up an ugly truth.
"Is Tartarus alive?" Applejack asked. And the farmer waited, as the rope loops slowly vibrated their way towards the ends of bound mane and tail.
They were all looking at the sisters. Every last one of them, as the eldest alicorn thought about the girl. Someone whose dreams included scent. Because when the fear was this strong, rising this fast, even in a group which had been through too much to break... that was when Celestia could detect it. Something at the edge of her awareness, waiting for its chance to claw at her sanity.
What was it like for the centaur, to be caught in the middle of the storm? Something where the lightning could never strike her, but the flood water might still find some way to make her drown?
The rain pounded on the castle walls. Another burst of thunder shook the room.
We had a tapestry on those hooks once. It would have shaken from that.
Another map, woven in fabric.
The only image we had for the interior of the fortress, just before the final assault.
Five ponies died to get it to us.
I remember their names.
I remember all of the names.
"You're not the first pony to ask that question, Applejack." Nearly thirteen centuries. Getting this degree of control over her own voice felt as if it had required at least four decades. "Or the first sapient. Tartarus has been studied for -- a long time. And everything we've learned -- or think we have -- still doesn't let me provide a definitive answer."
Pinkie was shivering now. One of the worst signs.
"All I can give you," Celestia finished, "is this: it isn't awake. We can prove a degree of awareness for what takes place within, but -- it's limited. Most actions seem to be reflexive. If there's a mind present, it operates on a subconscious level -- and nothing anyone has ever done was capable of changing that."
The hat required five adjustments, all in quick succession. Only the last one worked.
How do you read the moods of a centaur?
Maybe it's a combination. Treat the lower torso as a pony. The upper like a minotaur.
You're clenching your hands too tightly. Your fingernails just bit into your palms. Hard.
You're going to draw your own blood --
"Which kind of says that someone tried," Applejack forced out. "Maybe a lot of someones."
"The incarcerated," Luna took over. "Trying to -- negotiate with their own prison. Offering to bring back more to feed it, if only it would let them go into the world and seek its meals. None succeeded, Applejack Malus."
"There's been escapes." Which had come from Trixie. "Twilight wrote me about something which happened last year --"
You're trying not to look at me.
I assigned your probation. You're terrified that I might revoke it.
The only pony to wear the Amulet and not kill.
Part of you wants to be recognized in this group, doesn't it? To be recognized at all. But the responsibility scares you.
And then we have where I'm asking you to go.
"-- and she would have told you the how, along with the fact that no lasting harm was done," Celestia carefully cut in. "You could call it... a prank of sorts. Or -- an attempt at intimidation. One which failed. And when it comes to the current situation, as with the possibility of a second intervention... that factor does not apply."
Fluttershy's one visible eye slowly closed.
"And Tirek?" Rarity pointedly asked. "Was he not within, before emerging to treat the world as his meal?"
The sisters reluctantly nodded.
"We thought we understood how he escaped," Celestia sighed. "The initial assumption was that it was because the Gate's guardian was briefly absent. We examined everything --"
It was Rarity. You had to watch the eyes and fast-expanding rib cage, and then you had to move ahead of the followup.
"-- and we locked that down. We made sure it wouldn't happen again. No, Rarity: we did not put him back in a prison for which he was still holding the key."
"Except," Rarity pushed on, sharp eyes quickly narrowing, "nopony was able to ascertain why the guardian left in the first place."
Luna's head shake indicated the reluctance had been doubled.
"We managed to prevent a future exit," she told them. "But -- yes, we did not find a cause." The next tones were falsely light. "If you wish to lure the guardian through the screen and render him into what I shall term as 'his lesser self,' then feel free to use the opportunity for questioning. Our own efforts in that direction encountered a number of barriers. Be warned that the lack of actual language was less than helpful -- but perhaps you can do better?"
Rarity went silent. Celestia took over before the condition had the chance to wear off.
"However," the eldest alicorn admitted, "we have to recognize the possibility that he may have gotten out. If the expedition locates an empty cave --" stopped. Sighed. "-- we're working on that part. But if he was on the loose, this would be unusually subtle for Tirek. And then there's the fact that he would have left witnesses. I don't think he would want word of his activities reaching the palace. We have a lot of questions, Rarity. Evaluating him may start to answer a few of them. But there's only one way to find those answers..."
She made a point of looking at the map. Multiple sapients followed suit.
"We're going to put Cerea in through the Aornum Gate," she reminded the Bearers. (Luna put a spot of glow on the relevant portion of the map.) "That's the one Twilight is familiar with, and it's also the most reliable of the entrances. It means dealing with the guardian -- but that's something we know how to do." A glance at Cerea, accompanied by a quick evaluation for the exact degree of whiteness which had taken over the knuckles. "When we use the Gate, with the right ritual, it tells Tartarus that the one who's going in gets to come out."
"Ritual," the girl repeated.
"Yes --"
Both hands very slightly relaxed.
"...good," Cerea breathed. "Ritual magic. That -- makes sense..."
Don't ask. Just go with it. "It doesn't mean Tartarus won't act against you," Celestia immediately cautioned. "Once you're inside, it will do whatever it can to go after you. We're hoping the sword stops some of it --" and paused. "You may need to take the hairpins out for a few seconds before you go through. And kick the sword in ahead of you."
The "Because?" was as immediate as could have been expected, and twice as harsh.
"You're going to need the translation effect," the eldest carefully explained. "I'm not sure it'll take hold if everything is in place."
Eventually, the centaur forced a nod.
"But you'll have to leave by the same Gate," Celestia told her. "The others will try to block you."
"Unless," Luna suddenly considered, "the sword can bring you past them." Two more points on the map glowed. "You will be provided with marked routes to those as well. But I would advise against attempting to negate those barriers, even temporarily. There are -- those who might sense the moment of weakness. They will do their best to follow."
"Which brings us to how we're doing this," the eldest resumed control. "The only magic we can use is to put Cerea through the Gate -- and Cerea, you don't need magic to leave again once the ritual is in place. That means the protections we would use for a survey team or a normal prisoner check won't work. Or rather, they will -- and if Tirek is active, that just gives him more to draw upon."
"However," Luna added, "the sword has displayed the ability to disable any kind of magic it encounters."
I saw your face just then, Cerea.
What was that thought?
"Any magic," the younger of the siblings emphasized. "This can, to some degree, be tested before the Gate closes. I wish to be fully certain that it can battle against Tartarus. But if it is capable -- then we proceed."
"Normally, the sword would present transportation issues," Celestia noted. "But in this case, we can't teleport in and out of Tartarus. The entire deep place represents a lockdown zone." And with a direct, deliberately-piercing look at Twilight, "Don't. No matter what happens. Don't try it, Twilight. Not even if Cerea is three body lengths away from the Gate and you're just trying to get a good line of sight on anything which might be coming up behind her. I've seen the results of attempts. This isn't the palace lockdown, where an alarm goes off and unauthorized parties just get bounced back to their starting point. It's worse. Don't."
The thunder, momentarily outclassed, waited its turn.
"...I won't," the little alicorn finally said. "I swear..."
Celestia nodded.
I don't know how many more years I have before that stops working on you.
Probably not enough.
"The plan is to use air carriages to bring you into the general area," the eldest went on. "Flying low. We're working with a fairly strong deduction of the ground carriage's trail --" Luna obligingly lit up the path "-- but we need to verify it, and we're asking you to inspect the region." With a frown, "Because once you get away from the Gates, the territory above Tartarus is supposed to be a normal wild zone. As you saw in the summoning scroll -- Cerea got this in the Solar throne room -- that's not what Wordia described. Dead trees, warped limbs, and edged ground."
She successfully fought back the groan.
"That last is the part which worries me," Celestia told them. "Trees die. Branches can look strange. But there's never been any surveys showing jagged terrain in that area. And she felt like the rock serrations were almost aiming for her frogs. Something which makes it sound as if Tartarus was leaking."
"...which is its own problem," Fluttershy whispered.
One disaster at a time.
It's a nice philosophy.
It also doesn't work.
"Yes."
Spike learned forward a little more. Scale-covered elbows went through the illusion, planted themselves on the table.
"They're all going to need shoes," the little dragon announced. "Something like the tool ones, where they're slip-on and the entire bottom of the hoof is covered by metal. Rarity has everypony's sizes."
Something very strange began happening to the centaur's face, and Celestia almost missed it. She was too busy beaming with pride.
"Thank you, Spike," she sincerely stated. "We might have missed that. Hopefully there's enough in the palace to outfit everypony -- but if there aren't, I can send somepony on a supply run."
"And yourself?" a lightly-smiling Rarity inquired.
"I should be okay," Spike insisted. "It's just some points --"
"Scales are hardly proof against the world entire." The smile was getting a little stronger. "I can improvise something for you. Especially as we already have a base design..."
Which triggered a groan. "Rarity, you swore you'd never -- not again, not with the sandals --"
The amusement was open. Most of the cruelty was illusionary, but the key word was 'most'. "Flip-flop," the white unicorn half-chanted. "Flip-flop --"
It was a rather welcome moment of levity. It made ponies begin to smile, Trixie's eyes twinkled, all of the Bearers started to relax, and it lasted less than two seconds.
"-- your pardon."
And then they were all staring at the centaur.
Pony plus minotaur. That's not the whole of it, because the face is wrong and the lower-body reactions may not match. But it's a place to start.
Clenched hands. Hard-set shoulders. The tail is lashing.
...she's angry. It can't be anything else.
Why --
The right arm came up. A furious finger jabbed into illusion, pointed at the little dragon. The furious glare, however, made a turn and went directly for the sisters.
"Why did you bring him here?"
Celestia was still learning to read the centaur's expressions. Spike was a different matter. She'd spent moons with the little dragon, understood fully when he was confused, a little bit afraid and internally flailing for words. It was the set of the shoulders, the slight wilting of the crests and the droop of the auditory spines. He didn't know what was happening, hadn't figured out what to say, and had no means of buying time.
Centaur expressions were a work in progress. Dragons had been an education. Ponies, however, were automatic.
Six tail-lashing mares took exactly the wrong kind of inhale.
"That's Spike!"
"He has always been a part of this --"
"...you can't tell us who should..."
"And who are you to ask that? I should get a cloud going and --"
"Ah think maybe you'd better jus' let us decide whether anypony gets t' be at this table."
"That's mean! You don't know him! You don't know anything about him!"
Celestia was never certain as to whether the centaur heard all of it: the disc was known to have problems when several parties were speaking at once. But she knew which one had gotten through.
"I know he's a child!"
...oh no.
I've worn the translator. I know how it works.
It always assigns tones appropriate to the speaker's place in their life cycle...
"Thou art sending a youth into danger!" the centaur declared. "Asking a mere stripling to risk his life! Hath thou no shame? He should be in school, at play, anywhere other than here --"
-- Twilight was standing, and that was just the start of it.
"You don't know him!" the little alicorn shouted as wings flared, elevation gained in an instant as her eyes began to pale towards white. "You don't know what he's accomplished, everything he's done with us! You don't know anything about my brother --"
"-- I am perfectly aware of thy guilt!" the centaur shot back, and now Cerea was on her hooves: something which, for base altitude, meant considerably more. "Thou reek of it! Say what thou wilt, but in thy heart? You are all too aware of the possible consequences --"
The girl blinked.
"-- brother? He is thy --"
"SIT DOWN."
Wings refolded. Knees crashed. Selected portions of the room jumped.
Both standing sisters briefly glanced at each other.
The chorus, however, Celestia noted, may hang on for a while longer. Which was followed by "Spike has a place in this group, Cerea. One which he has earned. Age is no part of that."
"The Protector," Luna put in, "has his own role. You shall not counter it."
Perhaps it was all of the previous offenses added to the new one, or the simple fact that there was a child involved. Either way, the girl almost rallied. "BUT --"
"-- so," Luna coolly said, "that would mean there are two minors on the mission."
Seven mares and one dragon immediately focused on Cerea. For those who might be trying to learn centaur moods, it was a rather instructive view.
"Thou --" the girl sputtered as the rising tide of red suffused her skin. "Thou..."
"As I believe you had said something about graduating from your secondary school in the spring? Of course," the dark alicorn added, "that does disallow the possibility of your having been held back by a grade. Or three. But as I choose to believe in your intellect, I now ask you to consider mine. Thought and memory alike, because I rather distinctly recall sending out additional orders to Ms. Garter -- in order to accommodate someone who is still going through puberty."
Verbally, the centaur went silent.
"When I asked you to serve in the Guard," Luna stated, "I chose to stress what I had hoped would be mental maturity over physical age. Spike's lack of calendar years is balanced by a certain wisdom: an aspect which some ponies fail to acquire across a full lifetime. I would appreciate it if you would currently make some degree of effort to match a fraction of him. Do not question the Protector's place again."
There were still no words. The blush said it all.
Both sisters returned to their places among the floor cushions. Celestia took a moment to center.
"Spike has a vital role in multiple missions," she told Cerea. "For this one... he's our communications link. And our first sign of trouble."
"Communications," eventually emerged in a rather toneless way.
...right. You've never seen it. "Spike has the capacity to send scrolls to the palace via a form of teleportation," Celestia explained. (The centaur didn't blink.) "And we can reach him in return. Tirek demonstrated the ability to drain magic from every species in Canterlot. If he's active, then it's fairly safe to assume he can take Spike's."
"And if he can't," the little dragon softly said, "then that's another piece of information. Something we need. I'm supposed to send a scroll every hour, Miss Cerea. We'll be outside the Gate, and I can move outside of the lockdown. As long as I can send a scroll, the palace will know we haven't been drained. If he gets everypony except me... I write that down, and I send the alarm. Otherwise, even a blank scroll means magic is working. I have to be there. It's the only way..."
The centaur said -- something. Wires hissed, and continued to do so for a very long time.
Eventually, Pinkie's ears strained forward.
"Tin cans," she carefully said, "with a metal string between them. Only it's gallops long, and it has little bits of lightning going up and down. Somehow. And that lets people talk to each other? But you could never keep it completely taut across that much distance! Especially not when our end would have to keep moving! And there's all sorts of trees in the way, and what if we had to cross a river? You'd lose the lightning in the water!"
The girl sighed. And her lips moved, but no sound came out.
"We cannot," Luna stated, "use a 'hand-held movie camera' to place an image onto a distant hanging screen. Spike is all we have. He knows that, and he is willing."
The centaur's mouth framed the same set of syllables for the second time, only with a whisper of breath behind them. Celestia squinted, tried to guess at the muted sounds which lay beneath the translator's soft hiss...
'fild telə fəʊn'?
The newest mare to find some sort of place at the table visibly forced herself to shift forward on her bench.
"The Great And --" The unicorn stopped. Glanced at Twilight, then brought up her own left forehoof and very lightly rapped a light blue snout. "I..."
"If there's something you need to say, Trixie," Celestia gently encouraged, "then say it."
The performer took a breath, and then recruited three more for reinforcements.
"...I don't think Spike's going to be enough." And before the rest of the table could react, "Not because he can't do it. Because there's more reasons than Tirek for him to be incapable of sending a scroll. There could be a fight where he gets knocked out for two hours, or he runs out of flame, or -- there's reasons, that's all." The long streaked tail was twitching. "I spend half my life on the road. I've met most of those reasons. We need a backup."
"I can project bursts of field into the air," Twilight quickly said. "Send a signal --"
Trixie shook her head. "No magic. We need something any of us can use." And forced herself to look at the sisters. "I want to prepare some smoke signals. It'll take about twenty minutes, with the right chemicals. You put observers at the edge of the classified zone, watching. We can set up a color code system. One hue for no status change, another for an emergency, and something for All Clear." There was a small shudder. "If we get the chance to use that. But it's a backup. Something Tirek can't touch."
The sisters nodded. So did all of the Bearers.
"Whatever you need, Ms. Lulamoon," Luna gently said. "Write out the list of ingredients. Barring emergency, the mission will not proceed until your signals are prepared."
The performer shakily nodded back. Celestia scooted forward slightly on her cushions.
"We were starting to discuss this earlier," she told the group, "and Trixie's just brought the core issue into play again. This is a no-magic run --"
Feathers rustled. Wings twitched. And then the weather coordinator finally exploded.
"-- this isn't fair!"
It had been a shout, and it had been delivered from just below the ceiling.
"I know what I'm doing out there!" Rainbow yelled. "I always do! You can't tell me that I'm grounded! What good am I gonna be, stuck on the stupid ground the whole time! And now everypony's saying the ground is trying to hurt us, we need at least a few ponies off it, there's pressure carries, I can take Spike on my back and we can all stay off the dumb ground --"
Ponies were getting up again. The centaur, whose only place in the outburst seemed to be as incidental extra target, didn't move.
"-- Rainbow," Applejack firmly shouted, "half the deaths from Tirek were pegasi: y'know that! Pegasi who got caught in the air an' couldn't manage a glide in time t' get back down! We've already got at least one case of drain, an' even a temporary one is gonna drop you!"
"I'm better with glides than just about anypony!" the pegasus raged. "And I can stay low when I need to! It's just a short drop, I go through short drops all the time --"
"-- onto a patch of ground that's like a thousand little knives?" the farmer challenged. "Y'drop a lot, but y'don't always land on your hooves, Rainbow. Even a little crash is gonna leave y'bleedin', and a big one --"
Frantic wingbeats briefly slowed, then accelerated back to the speed of denial. The earth pony simply shuddered.
"-- a big one," Applejack finished, volume dropping as the hat shifted forward to shade her eyes, "could have y'hittin' throat-first. Big one means we lose you, Rainbow. So Ah ain't askin' here." She stared at the floor. "Ah'm beggin'. Stay on the ground, much as y'can. Please."
Silence.
"Rainbow...?"
A four-tap of hooves touched down on the section of marble next to the farmer.
"Since you're scared," the weather coordinator brashly decided.
Without making eye contact. "Ah am. Could get a little tired of ponies questionin' that sort of thing..."
"Just because you're scared," Rainbow added. "No other reason."
"Rainbow?"
"Yeah."
"Y'still ain't Honesty."
Multiple feathers briefly bristled.
"Yeah," Rainbow admitted. "It's too hard."
The nuzzle was quick. Ponies returned to their benches. Celestia put another completion check into the internal list of the inevitable, then resumed.
"We have to leave every possible thaum outside the gate," she told them. "Cerea has no magic -- but under any other circumstances, she would be carrying it."
"Which brings us," Luna continued, "to the substitutions."
The aura around the dark horn became slightly more intense. Several glassy tubes were levitated away from the floor, brought into view.
"Your primary light source shall be chemical," Luna announced. "Glowsticks -- good: I see that translated. Fire can be used, but the radius of such light is often less than would be expected on the surface, and -- heat will generally be minimal." Looking directly at Cerea, "Generally. Once Tartarus determines what sort of environment might disorient you, then that is what it will try to inflict. A torch might gutter -- or flare to the point where you must drop it. The glowsticks are somewhat more resistant to that effect. However, you shall carry at least one unlit torch. In case it is needed."
Rainbow twitched again. Fluttershy was silent. Pinkie watched them all.
"You also need your own means of communicating with the outside," Celestia told the girl. "We can't offer much -- but we do have this."
Her own horn ignited, and a small metallic cylinder was levitated above the rim of the table. Something roughly the length of the girl's bare palm, with a second, slightly larger piece of spring-attached metal almost fully surrounding the top: the exception was a triple-ridged hole at one end, where the interior was laced by thin gold reeds. It floated towards the centaur.
"A canister of compressed air," Luna explained, "attached to a -- whistle, of sorts. Tartarus has ways of muffling and enhancing sound, for that too can bring torment. But there is one thing it will always allow to pass. Apply pressure to the top, and that sound will move through the caverns. It will reach the Gate. And given that, it is simply a matter of applying Ms. Lulamoon's system to the duration of each blast." She paused. "We will give you multiple canisters, in case one or several should be lost to the deep place's machinations. But you should only use it in either a time of great need, or -- if you are close to the Gate, and must let the Bearers know that you are coming out. Because this sound will always be heard. And there are things within which will be listening."
The girl slowly extended one arm --
-- most of the Bearers were still having trouble looking at her for very long. Perhaps it was only the sisters who noticed what it took to make the trembling stop.
The centaur took it.
"We had to choose the sound carefully," the dark mare told them. "Along with the frequency. We know that Tartarus allows it to pass. But we do not know if sound or frequency have any effect upon centaurs. And --" she was looking at the Bearers now, one at a time, took a moment for Trixie "-- for ponies, the sound can be traumatic. You need to be prepared. And we have to know whether there is any centaur reaction. So..." A thick wad of cotton was raised, floated towards the girl. "...it is your choice. You may leave for a moment, find an empty room and set off a muffled version. Test yourself in isolation. Or do it here, while we stand ready to help you with anything which might occur. Because we do not know how you will react, and -- it is possible that assistance might be required." Back to the mares. "And you should hear this, so you will recognize it at need -- but you must brace yourselves for the experience."
The Bearers nodded. Luna turned to the centaur.
"I would prefer to do it all at once," the younger of the Diarchy told the lost knight. "In a single location, in case of distress. But the choice is yours."
The girl briefly looked at the others in the room. Three of them flinched.
"When you are prepared," she softly offered. "Not before."
It took a minute before the final nod emerged. The centaur held the cotton tightly against the gold reeds, squeezed the cylinder --
-- Pinkie's full-body jerk nearly put her off the bench. Fluttershy's tail splayed in six directions at once. Nearly every pair of furred ears in the room slammed flat against the skull: those of the girl merely went back. Spike got out of his chair, moved to his sibling's side and gently rubbed at trembling flanks.
"...that," the centaur shakily said, "is the sound of a pony screaming."
"Yes," Celestia quietly replied. "Tartarus will always let that go through." And before anypony else could speak, "We're sending you in with food, of course. And insulated canteens. We just have to make sure the containers are scentproof. It..."
She stopped. Purple eyes shifted down. Looked through illusion, wood, floor, and centuries.
"...won't matter once you open them, naturally," the oldest mare in the world made herself go on. "And you shouldn't do that unless there's no other choice. Because there are things in there which will smell food, real food, and..."
She was barely aware of her own movement. Of the little shake of her head, the stillness of her mane, or the light contact of her sister's extended wing.
"...they'll -- react," Celestia finished. "We're mostly giving you those supplies in case you need a distraction. But don't eat anything you find in there, Cerea. Don't. We have a treatment for those who consume something in there and come out again, but -- we don't know if it works on centaurs. And when it comes to your own needs... you won't really have any."
They were all staring at her now. All but one, who had simply shifted that much closer.
"No needs," Twilight said. Because it was Twilight, and there were times when knowledge was horrifying -- and yet, knowledge was still sought.
"As long as you're in Tartarus," Celestia told them all, "you won't need to eat or drink. You can, but... you don't need it to live. Nothing there does."
"No hunger." Pinkie now, perhaps because the idea was so strange. "No thirst..."
"Oh, you'll be hungry," the oldest alicorn steadily said, inner vision burrowing through the weight of time. "Enough time in there and you'll be so thirsty that you'll feel like you're on the verge of death. You just won't die."
And finally, Fluttershy, and Celestia knew it wasn't from any kind of desire to hurt. It was the caretaker speaking, with a hope which rose from the mark itself. Begging for a single place where the most desperate cases could find a little more time, even when the price was so very high.
"...no death?"
This time, she felt her own head shake. The slight coolness of her sister's form, pressed so tightly against her own.
"You can die in Tartarus."
The rising residue of ancient agony manifested upon her features as the ghost of a grim smile.
"That is to say," Celestia clarified as her ears tilted backwards into the temporal abyss, "you can be killed. For the incarcerated, for the ones who tried to end the world... enough time, and every moment might be spent in wishing for a death which never comes. Because that would be release, you see. The final escape. And the deep place would never allow that. You can be killed in Tartarus, and there's so many ways to die there..."
There was a breath caught in her throat.
"...but nothing you can do will ever let you take your own life."
It had been meant as a final one.
"I... I know you all care about me," the oldest mare in the world eventually said, with every word brought forth from the large body by the pressing weight of external terror. "Everypony here. Spike, you're included in 'everypony': with you, it's an honorific. And -- Cerea, I want to believe that before this happened, I... had your respect. Those were the sort of words which raise questions. And if you care about me, if you ever respected me at all... you will never ask me how I know that."
It wasn't hers.
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So, pony screaming whistle of terror, a place of pain and despair with an indeterminate size and depth that is probably alive, and the unfortunate inability to die on one's own terms should things get bad within. I don't know if everyone is getting paid by the crown for this, but if they are then they sure as shit better be receiving a hazard bonus. If they aren't, then it's time to move. Excellent work!
The hints of the deep past have me on the edge of my seat for future chapters...
This version of Tartarus is more disturbing than any horror movie depiction of Hell I've seen. And we haven't even gotten there yet.
They seem fairly prepared and Trixie idea seem sound. Seeing they do expedition in Tartarus, at least they know what to expect.
They really should install a semaphore or something for emergency cases like this for magicless communications. It's less fast than teleportation but it would be something.
Must be frustrating for Cerea to express all those exotic concepts like a telephone and not being able to get the words through. And with two of the most inventive mare in the world... when it comes to magic at least. Cerea ideas would require a lot of someponies with different expertise.
Maybe Cerea will find some of the components required for new communications devices?
Am I the only one who wanted her to get smacked across the face here? Delivery aside, she completely dodges the actual substance of Cerea's accusation. Whatever his qualifications, Spike is a child, and the fact that they consider exploiting him to be a necessity doesn't make it ethical.
This Tartarus sounds a lot like a ‘dungeon core’ novel from the LitRPG genre. I wonder if it plays by the same rules, or any rules? Estee is sure ratcheting up the tension in any case!
You know, for the sake of the mission Luna should point out three very important aspects of centaur cultural. (Luna should know these facts after being inside Cerea's head) just so the mission would have a higher chance of going smoothly.
1. centaur's have strong maternal instincts, meaning that she will prioritize spikes safety above all the others, even herself.
2. Under no circumstances so they try to force a ride on a centaur's back, A Centaur will only allow his or her master ride on their back as forcibly riding a centaur is the same as... Violation. There are exceptions to this rule such as the case of emergencies or allowing children to ride.
3. One should be very careful about possibly inserting a centaur's mother. Depending on circumstances, this and the previous rule can cause a centaur to be honored bound to cleave the head from the body of the offender.
(This information is taken from multiple sources)
11056780
That section was infuriating. Shouting her down like that shows a continued lack of respect. Spike has earned his place, but the method of their expressing that was grating and it’s sad that Cerea is cowed into taking the abuse. They begged her to do his, emotionally blackmailed her by invoking the one friend she has, and when she voices one objection to the methods by which she is being asked to /walk into Hell/, they take that tone? I’d have been happy if she’d have said “Then maybe I shouldn’t go either.”
I hope at the end of this briefing she lets them know in no uncertain terms that “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this to be /through/ with you.”
11056834
It's another reminder of how much mental trauma lies within the diarchs in Estee's 'verse, and how their development has been severely retarded if not arrested. Despite their chronological ages, the elder diarch presents at best as someone in early middle-age maturity-wise, and the younger diarch goes from mid-young adulthood all the way down to still-adolescent behavior. It's somewhat surprising that Equestria has held up as long as it has, as well as it has.
And that's not even tossing the Bearers' own stew of immaturity and trauma into the mix.
Hmmm, interesting, though I believe that Tartarus would allow any scream to be heard (but since this is ponies, it's going to be pony basis) ...
As for Spike, his age against dragon culture is 'baby' or 'young' but against pony culture,. maybe not so much. Since we don't know when Twilight was accepted into the SCU, we can't just take that from her current age to find Spike's (if Twi is mid-20's and she was admitted to SGU at 5, then Spike is 20ish by pony standards). Plus Equestria looks to be starting Industrial Rev with a bit of Renaissance thrown in which could mean apprentice/journeyman (and no child labor laws?) allowing for things to be younger than we think (10 for apprenticeship and 15 for a talented journeyman could mean Spike is 15 with the Mane 6 at 20ish for the show's beginning) ...
People in the fandom had long debated Spike’s role before the show ever got around to addressing it at all… was he Twilight’s servant? Sibling? To me, his role seemed to be formed from a fairly classic type from fiction (historically accurate or not): he was her squire. Often portrayed as a younger relative who attended to a knight, doing the chores required to keep that knight able to answer the call readily, and in turn learning the skills to be a knight himself someday. Cerea’s big on the knighthood…. Maybe once she gets to know him she can be more comfortable with his role.
Good stuff…. Nice to see them planning ahead for contingencies. I wonder what percentage of it will go horribly wrong…
11056916 This is Estee ... figure 60% and then aim upward.
The point about the diarchy having stunted development (perhaps by our own human standards by necessity) due to trauma still being dealt with in the present day is well-said. They've been described as younger than what they really are in terms of how they act or present themselves before. Many characters have serious issues they're still dealing with. What I like about Estee's work is they always let the characters act how they're gonna act even when it gets them in trouble that has to be resolved. You have to have trust that the audience will have the nuance to understand and see things through to the conclusion. Even with the in the moment actions feeling bad.
11056877
Luna has a certain mentality of "the world screwed me up big time; why should it play nice with anyone else? toughen up you foals!" which is coherent with her character. But doesn't always excuse her.
👍
The Estee-flavored Tartarus is sounding absolutely frickin' horrible.
11057098
11056720
It speaks volumes about Tirek's focus and determination that he endured centuries trapped in Tartarus with his sanity more or less intact. I give him that.
Shouldn't the Sisters give prisoners at least the choice of execution (assuming they can die) before sending them to such place?
Spike is so much magic, but depends if runs Dragon heat, that plastic would melt on contact, and glue to him, before charring or burning off, depending?
To Cerea, Tartarus is Return To The Gap, Nightmare Mode?
Her mother is going to be there?
11056877
Agreed, the more we get to see of the Diarchy, the more flawed they are. It is great characterization and I’m glad they get to be characters in Estee’s works and not just benevolent, omnipotent set pieces. It’s understandable why they would have a strong defensive reaction to Spike’s value to the team being brought into question, but it’s still infuriating. Better would have been Celestia giving a simple “I understand what voice the disc likely gives him, but know that he is, from what we can surmise, older than you. The length of a dragon’s natural lifespan is simply that long.”
It’s a thought that she had but instead they went with ‘don’t you dare question us or our methods!’ and ‘you're only a senior in high school, and your boobs are still growing, your concerns are /invalid/, BABY!’
The way they bullied her into silence feels abusive, much as their manipulating her into doing this task does. We know they feel horrible about having to take the methods they did to convince her, or at least Celestia does. Realistic characters in very difficult situations don’t always do the optimal thing and how they act in a moment of high emotion goes to show flaws and the effects of past trauma. I love that the heroes here are allowed to be /imperfect/. It gives an amazing realism to the characters that makes Estee’s Diarchy so much more interesting than many interpretations. It also makes me hope that should Cerea prove her heroism in Tartarus, battle through adversity, and return to cheers, adulation, and a stained glass window commission, that she still says ‘remember our deal and set me free.’
I wouldn't say invalid, just "you really have no idea what they went through and are poking a bee nest of trauma and hardship, for your and their sake don't". It is rather insulting to them to hear that, after all.
I expect the opposite. I expect the girl that always dreamed of being a knight to get the answers and the respect she deserves, to have the most empathetic liege she could dream of and recognize her own self worth.
Because going away would be running from all of that. Abandoning her dream for a misunderstanding born out of miscommunication. A thing every single human being (and therefore people that think like us) has to deal with in their lives. Running away would look like holding her ground, but truly would be an infantile behavior she'd come to regret unless she also abandoned her dream and values.
And Cerea would die before turning her back to her perceived duty.
Obviously Tartarus is the kind of place that just needs a better tourism board. The description sounds horrible but I'm sure it's not that bad.
Regarding the Spike argument, it is a red herring. Notice that it takes an argument, child, and conveniently leaves out the argument, child of what. None of the ponies realized that Cerea is also a child until Luna brought it up. They just got centaur and assumed adult, as that was what Tirek was.
Making both sides too angry to talk is likely to advance the plot as Cerea is less likely to realize Spike is a Dragon until she thinks child first. I’m not sure if the revel is in Tartarus or on the way there, but I think the setup is she doesn’t learn Spiks’s species until after the meeting. This is coming from a show that has many episodes and problems that could be resolved if both sides just communicated with each other vs a show where miscommunication is the point and viewers want to see problems occur.
Harem Fantasy can explain the last point better than I can.
11057205
I’m writing this from a tarsands strip mine in Ft. McMurray, Alberta. In -25C weather with blowing snow. “It just needs a better tourism board!”
Walk without rhythm and you won't attract the worm.
Well, that raises some interesting questions about this Cerberus...
Ah. A canned scream.
Yup.
"Even the pomegranates?"
"The what?"
"Never mind."
The nature of this Tartarus raises many other uncomfortable questions, but they're outside the scope of the meeting. For now, it's once more into the breach. And it's one heck of a breach. We'll see how it goes.
(And yes, shutting down Cerea on what she sees as concerns over a child soldier could've been handled with a bit more grace, but it's clear that Luna isn't just defending Spike here. Celestia's not the only one with lingering scars from the Discordant Era.)
11057250
Iirc, last chapter, she recognized the sulfur scent that means "dragon"
11057359
It's going to take some time, especially when she has to sort through the other natural odors which surround him. She suspects that she's the only one in the room who can detect any of it, but -- there are traces of strange chemicals, laced within hints of sulfur.
(This is something which becomes a little worse when he speaks. The voice initially keeps her from noticing that. Initially.)
Where does the lizard come from? Does his species hold its own nation? Nopony's mentioned a land of reptiles. And he's so small, even smaller than the little alicorn. Given some of what she knows is out there in the wild, what kind of magic would allow that species to prosper? There are so many questions, and...
Actually, in the previous chapter, It is pretty clear she’s made no such connection. The only connection she has made is reptile, wingless, and sulfur breath, the last of which is obscured until after the voice is recognized as belonging to a child.
Now if he did have wings, Dragon would have been in her thoughts, not reptile.
11057102
king will."
"He is a man of focus... commitment... and sheer f
~Dude who wouldn't last in Tartarus, on the subject of one who would give it pause
11057102
If they're world-ending threats, I'd say that most of them can't be killed. Tirec's an exception because they wanted to find out how his magic worked.
Can I just say I love how you handled Spike's role on the team being an issue here? You hit it from three directions one after another and landed every one of them.
Cerea questions Spike's presence and the Bearers LEAP to his defence because how dare someone imply he's not one of them or doesn't belong?
And then Cerea clarifies she has an extremely valid reason, and she's not worried ABOUT him, she's worried FOR him, and it shuts them all up except for Twilight Sparkle who's clearly trying to deny her own concerns about exactly the same issue.
And then lastly Luna steps in, points out that Spike is present of his own free will, he's proven himself time and again that he has every right to be there and that he could walk away if he wanted, and Cerea should respect his choice, his independence, and the fact that the Protector is as much a part of the team as any of them.
All three bringing excellent points to the table, all of them completely validated, and it ends with the final word being that Spike himself is the one who gets to decide his role, as it should be. And that his youth isn't a barrier to him playing a part.
Really, genuinely well done.
11057137
Very much so. And the situation with Spike reminds me of a few pages from Superman/Shazam: First Thunder. Annoyingly, I can't find them all in one place, but here they are in order:
https://arousinggrammardotcom.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/shazamsuperman12.jpg
https://arousinggrammardotcom.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/shazamsuperman13.jpg
https://arousinggrammardotcom.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/shazamsuperman14.jpg
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/E3ta6n4XoAEMb3d?format=jpg&name=small
https://pbs.twimg.com/media/E3ta7DKWYAIJTY5?format=jpg&name=small
"Who did this to you?" is one of the best wham lines I've ever seen in a comic.
11057195 Empathetic? You're not talking about Luna, are you?
Random thought: I wonder how the griffons would deal with having to combat a group that includes Spike, given their attitude towards harming children.
11058098
Within her mindset? Yes. She wanted to tell Cerea she understands, to build rapport upon their shared feelings. She failed miserably at it, but that doesn't mean she doesn't emphasize with Cerea the best out of anyone else even if by dint of being the one that feels the same about herself.
"The pegasus who potentially would have some part of that ancient army"
"The pegasus who potentially would have been some part of that ancient army"?
"And then there's the fact that he would have left witnesses."
"And then there's the fact that he wouldn't have left witnesses."?
"She'd spend moons with the little dragon"
"She'd spent moons with the little dragon"?
Well, those lines near the end ("There was a breath caught in her throat.", "It had been meant as a final one.", and "It wasn't hers.") could be interpreted in a number of different ways...
In any case, thank you, as usual, for writing, Estee!
I think it's interesting to note that it's an earth pony asking this question. Menajeria itself is alive, at least to a certain degree, and the earth ponies know that to the bottom of their souls. So what would it mean, to an earth pony, for Tartarus to not be alive?
And yet again Cerea gets walked all over. No sympathy, no empathy, even when she has a valid point. I agree that she's wrong, Spike does deserve to be there, but that does not mean she's without a point, especially in the face of her ignorance of who and what he is. Instead their reaction is to immediately shame her, by pointing out how young she is. It wasn't the wrong thing to say, it was the wrong way to say it.
I reiterate, Cerea should just walk. Fuck Equestria, they don't deserve her help.
You know, it's really nice to see the Princesses you love stomp all over someone's legitimate point about involving children in incredible danger just because they did it when they were young. Especially when the crux of their argument is: "You're a child, too, you have no place to complain about how we do things."
Like- first off:
1. Spike is a small child forced to grow up too fast because the adults who raised him did so ineptly. The only reason he's "ready" to face the challenges his adult friends are forced to is because the people who were supposed to be there for him failed.
2. Cerea is not a small child, she is only a year away from being a grown-ass woman in the eyes of the law. Even if her upbringing ensured that she's less equipped to face the challenges of the real world than a neglected child is, that doesn't mean Luna looks particularly smart or morally upright by pulling a Well Ackshually.
3. Rather than addressing Cerea's point with a legitimate counterargument, or even a concession that the whole situation sucks but they don't have any alternatives, the Princesses just used a technicality to shame her into silence. That only reinforces that what they're doing is wrong, they know it, and they will not be taking questions on their actions.
When Cerea sees Spike breathe fire, she'll realize he's a dragon.
11059891
Snerk… interdimensional anxiety attack on hooves…
Honestly though, that could be pretty much any of them.
Is Spike's protector title/role from Triptych?
11056877
I don't recall whether it's in one of Estee's or Carabas' stories, but I remember one or more embassies advising their ambassadors to treat the Princesses as if they were merely young adults rather than the millennia plus ancients that they are.
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I don't think it's in Triptych specifically, but it's been mentioned and built up in a couple of other stories. I think in a couple of stories, (A Mark of Appeal maybe?) Celestia and Luna talk about the Protector in their time who was a minotaur named Render.
Actually, it's been a while since I last read Triptych, so I may have forgotten it being in there.
Spike having a defined role with the Bearers is one of the things I appreciate about these stories.
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I see your reference, and I appreciate it wholeheartedly.