CH 53.2 Risen Hope
The thick pile carpet was a luxury for his tired hooves but one that could only do so much. With each motion, small spikes of pain bit into his overtaxed flesh.
Blueblood was not accustomed to pain, nor the hard labour that had birthed this incarnation of it. It was just something he would rather not have to deal with, and yet nopony had forced him to help. He insisted.
The scented waters of his personal bath called with its siren song even as his hooves carried him further away from his personal chambers.
The now familiar energy caressed him. Cool magic with its feather-light touch banished every ache and pain. The simple lack of suffering was the greatest luxury his tired mind could conceive.
Platinum’s refined scent arrived moments before her words. “You have done well, my Prince. But there is yet more to be done.”
Blueblood nodded, a subtle smile on his muzzle. Any observer he knew would have simply seen him spend a moment to gather himself. To him, even without a reflection, she stood beside him, her pose and grace unmatched by any of the modern pretenders.
He straightened. His hooves carried him onwards with a much steadier gait.
The early morning sun cast long strips of alternating light and shadow throughout the corridor. Platinum paused, her head turning upon her graceful neck. Her perfect horn practically pointed at the window as she regarded the estate’s grounds below.
Outside, his ponies still toiled. None of them had even slept a moment since the new work started. A second and far simpler airship sat next to the unrecognisable form of his former personal yacht. It was nowhere near as impressive as Wayfarer, the still incomplete light warship.
Pegasi zipped about as they fastened the last of the ropes. Hammers and paintbrushes danced in many hues of auras. Even the smallest Earthponies did by main strength what no two other ponies could.
“Not even twenty hours of work,” Blueblood said, not even trying to keep the pride for what these ponies had achieved from his voice. It was amazing what only two dozen ponies of all tribes working together could do.
A tilt of Platinum’s horn guided him to the tail of the almost functional airship. There, proud as could be, was his mark.
“I did not ask them…”
“You did not have to. For once, my Prince, they are proud to work for you.”
Then he saw it. Despite the tired eyes and determination in the way their leadened limbs moved, they smiled, they talked, some even sang though the sound of it could not beach his warded home.
“They’re happy?”
“They are doing something they know is right for both a cause and a pony they believe in.”
Something stirred in Blueblood’s chest. “I only hope I can be worthy of them.”
“Come, my Prince.” Platinum said as she headed deeper into the house.
Blueblood followed.
The golden framed mirror was an oddity in a typical armoury. In a noble’s one, in a time that had seen no real conflict in generations, it was but an expected feature.
Platinum’s magic finished fastening the last of the straps. The links of finely made chainmail moved against each other, allowing a flexibility of motion no solid plate armour could match. If it was not for the unfamiliar weight that pressed down upon him, he could almost have mistaken it for mere clothing.
Finally, his blades settled in place, one pair to each side. His armament of two long slender rapiers and a pair of sturdy spell daggers was twice that permitted in his old duelling circuit.
A brush worked through his mane. Its effect was somewhat cruder than normal. After a moment, he could see what Platinum was trying to achieve. He stood a little taller.
The stallion that looked back at him in the mirror was not the stuck up Blueblood of just weeks ago. Instead, there was a brave hero of a pony, slightly overworked, yet still firm in his resolve.
Platinum Check nodded.
With the final weather sealing applied, the salvage and reclaimed materials appeared uniform. You could not see the hodgepodge and improvised nature of the new airship.
“Is she airworthy?” Blueblood asked, trying to keep any misgivings from his tone.
The aged stallion nodded.
Blueblood looked over the two flat-packed armoured wagons and literal tones of mixed supplies. “And she can take the weight.”
“I don't know who you got to enchant your air carriage, but the work was top-notch. Each piece was individually enspelled, and the runes were inlaid with an alloy of gold and platinum.”
“A multi-million-bit carriage turned into a hundred thousand bit airship.” Blueblood shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “What would my father think?”
Blueblood rocked forward. The light supportive tap was almost enough to drive him to the ground. The aged stallion snorted. “If he is half the stallion you are, he'd tell you that you done right.”
“What should we call her?”
The stallion hummed. “Well, I can think of many names, most that would not exactly be polite.”
“Go on.”
“Well, given the rushed nature and the scavenged source of parts, it’s not exactly a thoroughbred airship.”
“That just means there is never going to be another like her.” Blueblood took on a contemplative pose as he regarded the ship. “With nothing but our hard work, our resolve, we achieved something others thought impossible… Risen Hope, that will be her name.”
Blueblood’s eyes tracked over the scroll once more. By Royal order, he was to use Ponyville as a base and establish an armed caravan to the surrounding settlements that lacked a direct rail connection.
This is what we want. Platinum said, her beautiful eyes looking into his from the reflection.
It is?
Yes, my Prince. Not only are you doing your duty to Equestria as any true heir of the Platinum line should, this way, we are out from under the tyrant's gaze.
The last of the supplies and equipment had been loaded. Each and every luxury in his home called to him. His four newest hires for his guards waited aboard.
A dozen ponies waited for him, unicorns all. For once, the single tribe nature of this group had nothing to do with tribalism or unicorn superiority. No, there were simply fewer unicorns out in the rural areas. They would be the ones most needed to restore the harmony and potential that could be achieved by all three tribes working together.
Aged ponies stood beside ones barely more than foals. Two of the young ones happily chatted, apparently oblivious to the tragedies unfolding below the peaks of Canterlot. The ones who had helped with the construction should have been dead on their hooves, yet they stood tall.
As he approached, they formed into a rough line. On paper, each was equipped the same, a nimble sword, a spell breaker dagger, a buckler and flexible light armour. In reality, it was a riot of colours and style.
Each weapon was a unique family heirloom or a prestigious blade wielded by those who claimed the championship. The light fabric armour they wore was reinforced with metal threads, scales or sometimes small plates. Each colour on the brave ponies spoke of their house or instructor.
Blueblood stood before them and, one by one, met each of their gazes. There was no condescension in his eyes. Each of these ponies were about to put themselves in harm's way. Each was as untested as he was, a few masked their fear behind bravado, but firm determination looked out from each set of eyes. Each had heard Celestia’s call to action, and each had answered.
A moment like this needs symbolism. Platinum moved so close her breath tickled his ear.
He faithfully spoke each word with conviction as she whispered it into his ear. The words flowed from his lips even though they were not his own. He was an actor following Platinum’s script.
Enchanted silver hissed as it left its scabbard. With a flourish, his aura drew his heirloom blade and rendered a salute. Their response was not as crisp and unified as the guard could manage, but each pony before him returned it. In that moment, they were not random ponies. They were those willing to be heroes, protectors of the defenceless, paragons of what ponies could be.
Blueblood dropped the salute, weapons found their sheaths and his ponies marched aboard the Risen Hope.
That could have made quite a painting for the family gallery.
I will see to it, my Prince.
You paint?
Platinum’s laugh was sweet and playful, yet so different from her normal attitude, but it still utterly suited her. Yes, I used to paint whenever my duties permitted… but it has been such a very long time.
The deck was crowded as the city retreated below them. The ascent was so much slower than by pegasus pulled carriage or chariot. His two pegasi guards stood, eyes closed, channelling their magic into the ship. The enchanted remnants of his luxury air carriage did their job, spreading the pegasus magic over the craft.
The turn was slow, each motion was cumbersome, but now they were on their way to Ponyville.
“Sir, rest while you can.”
The deck was not the most comfortable place to lay his weary body, but it hardly mattered. As soon as he stopped moving, heavy eyelids fell like portcullises hiding the world away.
Sweet dreams, my Prince.
A few hours of sleep had worked wonders on his tired body. If he did not know better, he would have thought he had a full night's rest.
Blueblood nodded to their escort. Two armoured pegasi flew just the other side of the railing. “Is that the barding from the games?”
“Yeah,” The closer one, with the comically small wings compared to his massive bulk, said.
The other one slammed an armoured hoof against the thick front plate. “When Twilight makes something to keep a pony safe, she doesn't mess around.”
“Princess Twilight does constantly impress,” Blueblood said.
The normal proportioned guard let their head lower. “A lot of ponies are alive who would not be if not for it.”
Blueblood followed the escort's gaze and took in the landscape below. It had changed since he had taken his personal air carriage on this same route. Ponyville was nothing like it had been during the tournament held to honour Luna and Twilight’s courtship.
War had come to the small town. Powerful magic had carved still smoking gouges into the landscape. Craters marked where deadly spells had detonated. Ash and the skeletal remains of both buildings and trees marked where fire left a reminder of what it could do other than provide warmth or heat food. The scene was one from ancient paintings, the ones carefully hidden in dark corners or so deeply buried in the museum that a pony would have to know they were there to ever find them.
Another I will add to your gallery.
Why would anypony want a painting of this?
To know why we fight, to know what we seek to prevent.
Far below, Twilight walked out onto her balcony, standing between a pair of red-painted cannons. Even from here, he could feel the weight of Twilight’s regard. Judging and yet compassionate, powerful and yet gentle.
Her horn lit and magenta magic enveloped multiple ruined buildings. With a flick of her horn and just a casual toss of her head, the land was scraped clean. All the debris gathered to the side, leaving a wide open area, flat and level, perfectly sized for the Risen Hope to land. With a nod and a graceful sweep of her wing, she bid them do just that.
Turning, the princess strode back inside, vanishing from view.
Just how much more could I do if Aunty had not stolen my birthright?
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Nightsclaw
I have found more errors in this than in your other chapters.
You okay? O.o
gait not gate . . or is he carrying a doorway on his back? O.o
r missing, strips not stips.
of earthponies? and what is main strength supposed to mean?
i think there may be a word missing here?
is check her name?
surrounding not sounding
would was not be correct instead of were here?
fell instead of felt?
tournament not torment.
aand that is all the nitpicking to be done i found.
An absolutely beautiful chapter. Really showing Blueblood's development. The question at this point is if that memory Platinum showed him of the mirror's reflection is a true rememberance, or a falsehood. Does he truly have the spark to earn alicornhood? Or is it just a fanciful manipulation by the fragment given to him by the dark unicorn?
Maybe after he is battle tested, we shall see if twilight sees fit to unlock his potential for his own sake, rather than making him one of her chosen.
Damn, Blueblood really is going full on hero-of-Equestria mode.
Blueblood, the Swashbuckling Aid Relief Worker. Nevertheless, its glad he finally had a reason to get away from Canterlot and set up shop in Ponyville, not only for his own peace of mind but to help do his part in the 'Fuck Celestia' Club. I'd suppose Rarity would be happier for it, too
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Face hooves. Sorry about that. Thank you for pointing out the errors. I'm well thank you for your concern. How are you?
By main strength: by sheer strength. For example to lift a heavy weight by main strength.
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No Problem.
Tired mostly.
Ah thank you.
I don't know why this only came to me now, and I am reasonably certain that this has not been discussed previously, but, how much does Candice need to eat? By my count, she has two minds, (at least) two souls, and three or four different racial magics at her disposal (to varying degrees), yet I cannot recall a single mention of a strain on her body or wellspring nor a risk of malnutrition at any point in this story. (I say this in the nicest way possible) What kind of abomination has Harmony produced?!
As much as Blueblood is typically the horrible butt of every joke, I love what you're doing with him! The growth, personality, and depth of character he shows now that he's freed from Sunbutt's mental tyranny is astounding!
Unfortunately I can see how this can go wrong, in so many ways, since his freedom is from a Changeling construct. I hope I'm wrong, but I'm worried.
Thanks for the story and this update!!!
I love how Blueblood just changed manipulators. I really like the way you've taken him. It's awesome.
my 4th reread... and i must have had a clearer head this time.
A checklist popped up in her mental space. Held in the hooves of a little unicorn Twilight. Is my host insane, or am I? She thought before discarding the idea. Like it mattered.
'in her mental space'
-
She looked at the unicorn she was imagining. If this little foal is going to be my mental assistant, I will have to name her. She considered for a long moment.
"I shall call you Little Star" The Spirit spoke.
Star did a little happy dance, "Yes Princess Nightmare," joy radiating from Star's tone.
-
"Princess, Princess." Star bounced up and down, splashing in the blood seemingly without care waving a new scroll.
was already discussed in later chapters comments, but i wanted to put this here, (for anyone curious, source is ch2)
but i figured this was more solid confirmation to what little star is compared to the characters guessing.( even compared to my own previous guessing, where i only paid attention to the process of events after twi was reunited with her friends an dwhat not.) since that version had it mentioned there was one of the 5 who was just a filly. no different than star.
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CH 33 Nightmare's Vault
...So when Blueblood dies, will Luna find a new fragment? After all, I think BBEG used one of Nightmare's spells to make her...
I wonder if this really is the corruption spell, or something in Blue Blood truly was unlocked.
I love anything involving an underdog guy slowly building himself up in the darkness, it just ticks all my boxes for some reason.